Drive Screwtape Mad

I have been re-reading C.S. Lewis's classic The Screwtape Letters.  It's a series of letters from Screwtape, a senior demon, to his junior nephew demon Wormwood on how best to tempt Wormwood's human "patient".  Screwtape and Wormwood are basically the opposite of a guardian angels.  They are - quite literally - hell's angels.  And Screwtape is passing on the tricks of the trade.  

Lewis's insight into the spiritual life was absolutely brilliant.  In The Screwtape Letters Lewis has Screwtape reflecting on the ways Wormwood might seduce his subject into perdition through the most ordinary of events.  Sin isn't always what we humans think.  In fact, Screwtape suggests that it is actually beneficial to the forces of darkness that we humans stand guard against mortal temptation in order that our more venal sins can slip through the back door.  "Murder is no better than cards if cards can do the trick," Screwtape writes.  "Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one - the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts. . ."

In one particularly vivid seen Screwtape tells of having once had as a patient an atheist, who while studying a book suddenly began to ponder spiritual questions.  Fearing that he might be in danger of losing the patient to heaven, Screwtape acted fast through a gentle pang of hunger.  Having been diverted away from the consideration of deeper, more eternal matters, the patient never turned back again.

Falling out of relationship with God is so seldom the result of one singularly grave or heinous sin.  Really, its generally a lot more dull than that.  It's one step at a time, one glance at a time, one simple diversion from which we never come back.  

Counteract this: stop right now and center on God for a couple of minutes.  Sing an old hymn.  Pray for somebody you love.  Pray for somebody you don't.  Do this again for two minutes before the day is out.  Repeat tomorrow.  

Screwtape hates that!

What Difference Does Baptism Make?

   Sunday I taught the first of a two-part series for children who have either recently been baptized or are considering it.

 

   We began by talking about decisions. Each of the kids talked about a decision they had made that morning - the decision to get up and come to Sunday School, the decision to wear the clothes they were wearing, etc. We then turned in our Bibles to the third chapter of the book of Luke where we read about all the people of Judea and Jerusalem who came down to be baptized by John the Baptist in the Jordan River. We read how John was "preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins," and I told them how I believe repentance means turning away from selfish ways and deciding to go where God wants us to go and become who God created us to be. We talked about what that would look like in our lives. There was lots of talk about being nice to siblings and obeying parents. An especially precocious boy talked about being productive and "contributing to the economy". His dad has an MBA. Then there was the funny moment when the three boys in class who have been baptized were asked if they still sin. They're gaping eyes and mouths gave them away.

 

    Then yesterday at our Tuesday morning men's breakfast the lesson was again on baptism. This time Penny Vann was leading and he was using theologian Jim McClendon's idea of baptism as a "performative sign". By that McClendon meant that like a stop sign tells us to stop, the sign of baptism tells the world that we intend for our lives to belong to God. At baptism we declare ourselves - in the words of the Apostle Paul - "dead to sin and alive in Christ."

 

    Well, the two conversations - one by 10-year-olds and another by 50, 60, 70 and 80-year-olds - were certainly on different levels. But the questions were substantively the same. What is baptism? What does it mean to repent of our sins? Can we be so alive in Christ that the sin in us truly dies?

 

    These questions make me think of a scene in one of the great Texas films of all-time Tender Mercies. Robert Duvall plays a broken down, honky tonk cowboy named Max Sledge (can you think of a better name for a broken down, honky tonk cowboy?). Duvall meets a woman whose love and gentle spirit set him in the right direction. Soon we see him in church being baptized along with his new stepson. On the way back the two ride side by side in Max's pickup. Max looks over and asks his stepson, "Do you feel any different?" "Nope," the boy says. "Do you?" "Not yet," Max answers back.

 

    The key word I think is "yet". Max and his stepson and the boys in my class have all just recently declared who they are going to be. They've just decided. Now all the decisions that follow are to be based upon that first, big decision. They don't feel any different yet - but they have made it known that their intention is to be different.

 

    As I looked around at those men on Tuesday morning, I know they still sin. But I also know they are indeed "different" from what they once were. They're gentler now. They're more loving now. They're sober now. They're no longer consumed with success now. In other words, they've been baptized - dead to sin and alive in Christ.

 

    I remember what some saint somewhere once said, "I ain't what I ought to be. I ain't what I'm gonna be. But thank God I ain't what I was." It's true for the men on Tuesday morning. May it be true for the kids on Sunday also.

A Sprig of Life for Muslim/Christian Relations

On Monday I was a guest alongside Imam Samer Altaaba on Fox Talk 950, a local morning radio talk show. We were invited on to discuss the need for increased Muslim-Christian relations in the wake of the violent Middle East uprisings which ended in the murders of Ambassador J. Christopher Stevens and three other Americans in Libya.  (A link to an audio recording of the interview is available at http://www.centralmediaserver.com/kjtv/radio/monftim2.mp3 until next Monday.)

 

The imam has condemned the embassy attacks and similar acts of violence. Like most Muslims, he is a person of peace and goodwill.  Unfortunately, religious extremists and political opportunists overshadow the vast majority of Muslims. I hoped the interview would help Lubbock hear another voice.

 

In our conversation I spoke about a man named Krister Stendahl, a Lutheran priest who served as Dean of Harvard Divinity School and did much to promote inter-religious dialogue last century. Stendahl said that when we enter into conversations with people of other faiths we should follow three principles.

 

1.  We should listen to them directly — not to their enemies.

 

2.  We should not compare our own religion's best to the others' worst. This would help us come to terms with the fact that all religions have their good and their bad, their exemplars and their extremists.

 

3.  We should seek what Stendahl called "Holy Envy."  By this he meant we should look to others' religious devotion and practices and seek to find in them what might inspire our own.

 

The conversation with the imam went well.  We told stories of our own friendship and spoke of ways our two communities have remained open to each other in these turbulent times.  At the conclusion of the interview I talked about losing Ambassador Stevens and our need to honor his sacrifice by seeking to be ambassadors of goodwill ourselves. For with half of humanity being either Christian or Muslim, the fate of the world depends upon it.

 

But perhaps most gratifying about the experience was the Facebook message I received afterward. It was from Justin Gornto, one of the kids in the youth group I once pastored in North Carolina. Justin grew up and joined the Army. He served a tour in Afghanistan, where he was wounded and almost lost his life in an IED attack. Justin learned about the interview on Facebook and streamed it from North Carolina. He wrote me to tell me he appreciated the conversation and hopes for more like it.

 

As I read that note from Justin a wave of hope washed over me. Justin knows first hand how dangerous these days are; yet he remains open to the possibility — indeed necessity — of peacemaking.
 

In the midst of so much violence, terror, and death, it was a real sprig of life.

-Ryon Price

Turning South

   Yesterday was bookended by two events that have me thinking of making the most of our time together.

First, during staff meeting I opened our website (www.secondb.org)to see Amy and son Landon Gantt right there on our homepage.  Knowing that the Gantt family moved to Portland, OR, two months ago, I asked the rest of the staff how long we could leave former members' pictures on our homepage? The consensus was not long.
 

Then, last night I read in Texas Monthly online that famed Texas novelist Larry McMurtry is closing down his iconic bookstores in his hometown Archer City. I thought again of the Gantts and a road trip Amy's husband Joe and I took to visit McMurtry's bookstore.

 

Last June, Joe and I hopped into my Subaru wagon and headed east to the campus of Austin College in Sherman to join our youth at camp. Joe was serving as a youth sponsor and agreed to keep me company as I couldn't leave until after church on Sunday. We drove down Hwy 82 towards Wichita Falls and our talk turned to McMurtry's store and how it was the perfect store for both booklovers and Texans. We didn't see how we could profess to be either one if we didn't stop by in Archer City on the way back.

 

Five days later, with a map of Texas in one hand and the steering wheel in the other, I turned off at Wichita Falls and headed south for 25 miles past the burned grass and frozen pumpjacks that constitute what is left of Archer County, the one exception being the town square of Archer City itself, which still has some life because of McMurtry's bookstore and lore. We pulled in and looked off to the left of us where we saw the burned out hull of the Royal Theatre, which was made famous by McMurtry's book The Last Picture Show and the movie it inspired.  We parked across from McMurtry's Bookstore Number One and went in.
 

What we found when we stepped inside was part bookstore, part museum with enough Texana history and movie memorabilia to make us both salivate. We knew our wives would not appreciate our lollygagging, so we limited ourselves to thirty minutes in the bookstore. I perused the miles of racks and found an Oxford sociology of American religion and an old Barclay's New Testament commentary. I can't remember what Joe bought, but I bet it had something to do with his favorite subject — politics — preferably of the leftward-leaning variety. When our thirty minutes were up, we met back at the register, and there behind the counter was McMurtry himself.  He was stacking books and never turned to look at us — a perfect statue of himself, just the way we wanted to remember him. We walked back out into the hot sun, crossed the street to a local cafe, sat down and ate potato salad, then loaded up for the trip home. We talked all the way home about camp and the church and where we had been and where we might be going.

 

What we didn't know at the time was that Joe and his family would definitely be moving to Portland. We knew about the offer there, and he had accepted it. But we were still holding out hope he might get a counter-offer here in Lubbock. We didn't know for sure. And we certainly didn't know that McMurtry would soon be closing down the bookstores. We didn't know that a road trip like the one we were on just wasn't going to be possible for much longer. Today I'm really grateful we shared that experience together.

 

I guess the point of all this to say turn south — take the long way, the road less traveled. Go ahead and hop in the car and make the memory. And talk and get to know each other along the way. You'll be glad you did, and our church will be stronger for it.
 

 

For as McMurtry once said, "If you wait, all that happens is that you get older."

Public Schools and Christian Ed

               Monday saw Lubbock Independent School District start back to school and our daughter Gabby begin her first day of Kindergarten. There were pictures in the home before we left. Pictures at the car when we pulled up. And wailing and gnashing of teeth when we left. O.K., there wasn't really any wailing and gnashing, but if there had been it would have come from her mother and me. Gabby was just fine with the idea of beginning a new adventure away from her parents.

                Part of this new adventure means a new wardrobe. Gabby’s school has instituted a uniform policy for the first time this year. Her school is a public charter school. That means kids come from vastly divergent families, neighborhoods, and socio-economic classes. The common uniforms bring a level of unity to the students and school spirit within the halls. The idea is that kids sacrifice a degree of individual self-expression for the sake of the community as a whole. (Though in the first week I have seen plenty self-expression in places where uniformity is not required — topping off Gabby's Plain Jane khaki pants and blue polo t-shirts has been lots of hot pink, polka dot, and rainbow ribbons, and spearmint belts. Come winter I'm sure she will exercise creativity in coat color and patterns as well.)  
                Setting aside whether or not school uniforms are a good idea, they are for me a sign of our society's willingness to compromise certain individual prerogatives for the sake of the well being of the community at-large. This is especially true when it comes to religion in our public schools. 

                On Monday as I was walking Gabby into the school I was met at the door by another dad who was escorting his son and daughter into the building. The three of them appeared to be of perhaps Thai or Indonesian descent and the daughter, who appeared to be about age 9, was wearing a scarf to cover her hair. "Muslims," I thought. "Isn't it great that we live in a country where a Baptist preacher and a Muslim man can meet and walk their children through the same school doors."

                It is great; but it necessitates some real give on both our parts. Because we live in a country where no religious sect or faith can be established, our kids are not being taught much — If anything — about the Bible, the Koran, the Muslim and Christian faiths, or any other religious traditions or history for that matter. That Muslim father and I know that when the kids come home and we ask them what they learned in school they will not be telling us about Isaac and Ishmael.  
                Some think this is the only way to progress in an increasingly pluralistic society. I, however, believe we absolutely need some non-sectarian religious instruction as religion has been and will continue to be such a powerful force in history. In fact, one cannot know very much about history without knowing something about religion. Nevertheless, my real point is not so much about what secular public schools should or should not be teaching our children about religion, but rather what we as Christians ought to be teaching them. 

                As Christians we are at a level of Biblical illiteracy that has not been seen since at least the advent of the printing press in the 16th century, if not the 4th century. Any young person reading this (Does anyone read this?) is likely not to know who the heck I am talking about when I mention Isaac and Ishmael. Imagine what they would think if I had mentioned Balaam's ass! In this brave new world our children live in, we have got to tell the old, old story.

                This semester Second B is working hard to put together more basic Bible study opportunities. Our children's pastor Judy Bryant continues to provide basic Bible story instruction throughout the course of our Sunday and Wednesday night children's programming. Our youth pastor Ben Ondrak is including more Bible study on Sunday nights for youth, with a recognition that we have to make the most of every opportunity to expose them to Scripture. On the adult side, my wife Irie and some others are beginning a women's Bible study on Thursday nights. On Wednesday nights Steve Rogers will be teaching a series on Science and Faith and will be letting modern topics such as bioethics, astronomy, and evolution be in conversation with Scriptures. I will follow up later in the semester with an introductory study of the first few and very profound chapters of the book of Genesis. If you are interested in learning more about or getting involved in any of these opportunities, please contact us. We need more teachers for our children and welcome more participation from our adults.
                This summer I marked 19 years since I first gave my life to Christ. I did so after someone told me about a conversation Jesus had with someone in the Bible. That story changed my life. And I still believe that old, old story has the power to change lives.

                I was happy to meet that Muslim father at the door Monday morning. And I can live with the fact that neither of our kids will get the kind of religious instruction we might wish they had in school. It's what we as individual families sacrifice for the sake of unity. But the uniforms come off at home. And I would be remiss — way remiss — if I didn't tell Gabby about Isaac and Ishmael and Isaac's grandson Joseph who also had a flair for accessorizing with a coat of many colors.

Charlie Johnson On Gender Equality in the Bible

   A Biblical case for Gender Equality?  That's the case my friend and former Second B senior pastor Charlie Johnson makes in this latest podcast conversation.  

   Listen to the conversation with Charlie Johnson and be transformed by the renewing of your male or female mind.

Second-Mile Service at Chick-fil-A

   Last summer I asked the teenager behind the counter at the local Chick-fil-A what it is that makes it possible for his restaurant to be so dang busy all the time.  Without even a second's hesitation the kid had his response:  "Second-Mile Service," he said.

    I admit I was a little ambivalent about the answer.  On one hand, I thought it was pretty cool that the company had taken a Biblical principle and successfully applied it in the business world.  Walking the second mile is a metaphor for doing more than you have to do.  And that's what it takes to succeed - going above and beyond what is required.  But another part of me thought taking a teaching from the Sermon on the Mount - where Jesus told his followers not to worry about food - and applying it to selling chicken nuggets might be stretching things.  Was something being lost in trying to make Jesus' teachings "work" in such a practical way?

   I suppose my main misgiving had to do with what I feared might be a cheapening of Jesus' radical social teachings.  When Jesus took his disciples up the mountain he preached a sermon that imagined a whole new ethic for a whole new stage in human history.  Before, the prevailing wisdom of the world was to "love your neighbor and hate your enemy."  Jesus said we must go beyond that.  "Love your neighbors and do good to your enemies," he said.  That was what was meant by going the second mile.  In those days, Jews could be conscripted to carry a Roman soldier's pack for one mile.  Jesus taught his disciples to carry it a second mile.  By teaching his followers to go above and beyond what was required of them, Jesus was teaching his disciples to respond to oppression with a nonviolent resistance which affirmed the ultimate dignity of both oppressor and oppressed.  It just seemed a little thin to turn such a radical and world-changing ethic into a customer service policy.

   But I am beginning to realize some Chick-fil-A employees have taken Second-Mile Service more deeply.  During the midst of so much protest and counter-protest over Chick-fil-A President Dan Cathy's statements about the restaurant opposing same-sex marriage, I read about at least one Chick-fil-A franchise operator who is walking the second mile not only to serve chicken, but - more profoundly - to serve an adversary.

   Recently my friend Grace Rogers, who coordinates the local chapter of PFLAG - Parents, Families, and Friends of Lesbians and Gays - sent a coupon she received in the mail back to the new Chick-fil-A in town along with a note saying she and her husband would not be eating there after Cathy's statements.  She says she was pleasantly surprised when she received a personal letter back from franchise operator Tim Odom inviting Grace and her family to come and eat at his franchise.  Though Grace ultimately decided not to eat at Chick-fil-A and even chose to stand outside one of the franchises on Wednesday in protest, nevertheless during the midst of her protest she chose to tell our local paper about Tim's gesture as she saw it as one that was both gracious and kind and perhaps the way out of a cultural impasse.

   "He was inviting us to come and told us that gays are welcome at Chick-fil-A," Grace was quoted as saying.  "It was a whole different point of view and although I personally made the decision not to eat at Chick-fil-A, there is middle ground and I'm open to having a dialogue with him."

   Dialogue is what I think Jesus was hoping for when he told his followers to cover a second mile's worth of middle ground with the Roman soldiers.  I imagine it was quite surprising when those Jewish peasants offered to carry those soldiers' packs a second mile; I imagine it surprised the soldiers much in the same way Odom's letter surprised Grace.  And something profound happened along the way.  As Jesus' followers walked with the Roman soldiers, they also talked with them.  And after a couple of miles walking and talking perhaps those soldiers saw those Jews a little differently than they had before.  Perhaps for the first time they saw them as human beings.  And maybe it was the same for the Jews.  All their lives they had looked upon the Roman soldiers as one giant legion of occupation and brutality.  But somewhere along that second mile the soldiers began to wonder why these  Jews were doing what they were doing, and some even asked that these Jews tell them about their leader Jesus of Nazareth.  These questions put it into these Jews' minds that perhaps even these Roman soldiers could be God fearers.  In fact, some even began to realize the truth: these Gentiles were children of the same Heavenly Father that they as Jews were.
 
   It's been a pretty heated week with all the protest and counter-protest.  Sometimes the vitriol has been out and out toxic - especially on the radio and on Facebook.  But hidden beneath all that have been some real stories of kindness and compassion.  There was Grace and Tim story.  Then there was the story a gay friend of mine shared about being out front of Chick-fil-A picketing in the scorching sun when a man walked up with a cooler full of cold water.  The man said he was straight and didn't approve of gay marriage.  Nevertheless, he wanted to do something Christ-like.  "My savior tells me not to judge," he said.  I hear these stories and in spite of the vitriol my heart is gladdened because in spite of the vitriol common ground is being found dialogue is happening, and people with very different opinions are seeing each other as human beings and as fellow children of God.

   "What makes it possible?" I wonder.  And then, without a moment's hesitation the answer comes: Second-Mile Service.

 

    

A Joyful, Hard Week

   Well, I am happy to report we survived another year of camp in always hotter-than-blazes, and this year now dryer-than-blazes Brownwood, TX.  To my knowledge, we came home with the same 31 kids we went off with.  And to my knowledge, they each had a fantastic week.

   Thanks and kudos to our children's pastor Judy Bryant, who truly did an outstanding job as the camp director this year.  A huge thanks also to our youth pastor Ben Ondrak, who rolled in on Saturday after having been gone on our mission trip for 10 days, and then turned around on Monday and rolled out with us for a week's worth of rest in a smelly cabin with a dozen plus elementary-age boys.  The summers are very demanding on Judy and Ben and their families.  Yet it is evident that what they do is a labor of love. 

   Then there were the adult sponsors.  We may well have some of the most-selfless, most-loving, and least-gripeless youth leaders I have ever seen.  Most of these people gave up a week's worth of vacation for the sake of our kids, and I never heard one single complaint.  If there were complaints, they were about adult bodies' not being what they once were.  I most definitely did not hear complaints about camp food, "kids these days", or the fast one our pastoral staff pulled to get them into this. 

   As I watched these counselors pouring themselves into these kids, I saw Christ standing amidst children two millenia ago, saying, "Let the children come unto me and do not stop them."  The sponsors had their their backs climbed on, and their arms leaned, their shoulders cried on, and their patience pushed on all week.  They wiped tears away from kids' eyes, snot from their noses, and blood from their scratches.  They sat down to study the Bible and talk about Jesus' great love and then stood up to do something called the "Chicken Dance" - what happens at camp stays at camp!  It was truly a great week and these were truly amazing sponsors. 

   As we boarded the bus to head back to Lubbock on Friday, everyone was all smiles.  We put a worship CD in and the kids clapped and sang.  We watched as the boys and girls passed notes written to each other in Spanish.  This was especially enjoyable to watch since the kids don't even speak Spanish.  After things settled, I talked with the kid across the aisle about her desire to be baptized sometime in the future.  I then turned the other way and talked to the kid next to me about his grandpa, whom our church buried just a few months passed.  Before we knew it we were already in Abilene and I sat in a Subway and watched as one of the adult sponsors bought lunch for one of our kids who didn't have enough money to eat.  Then we all loaded back into the bus, and we adults took two Advil - one for the shoulders and another for the back - and then closed our eyes.  When we opened them again, we we could see the roof of the church.  We were glad to be home, indeed.  But we were also glad we went.

   Not long ago I was talking with Helen Moss, resident woman of abiding faith and sage-like wisdom.  She was telling me what the minister who officiated the wedding of her son and his wife said at the service.  "Marriage is joyful, hard work," she said.  As she said that, I thought to myself that that pretty much says everything I've been trying to say about following and trying to be like Jesus.  It's hard work to labor in this field - two Advil hard work; but it is also such a joy to be here.

   Camp was hard work.  But it was joyful, hard work.  And I thank God for it. 

   I thank God for every bit of it.

Generation to Generation

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   On Sunday we dedicated to the LORD two children, Aurora Skye Burns and Irie's and my third child, Emmanuel Boaz Price. What a blessed and holy day it was.
    It was also a much needed day in the life of our congregation. In recent months we have suffered the loss of so many beloved members and friends of Second B; we needed a couple of babies to be born.
    There is a phrase in the Scriptures which speaks deeply to me in these days of loss and new life: "Generation to Generation." Even as one generation now closes its eyes, another generation opens. Meanwhile, you and I, the generation which stands between, must see that the same faith and hope with which those who have gone before us have lived and died shall be imparted to the next generation.
   In a sermon about Moses atop Mt. Nebo, the great 20th century pulpiteer Gardner Taylor spoke of Moses' long journey toward but not into the Promised Land. In reflection Dr. Taylor preached these words, "It is a mystery, a blessed mystery, of how God does give us the capacity, the unselfishness to participate in efforts and causes whose fulfillment must lie so far beyond our mortal span."
   I ask that you might consider your own life; are you entering into the fullness of this "blessed mystery"? Do you make worship a priority for your family? Do you read the Bible to your children? Have you decided to leave a legacy gift to Second Baptist in your will? Do you speak to your children and grandchildren about how important belonging to the church is to you?
   If so, then wonderful. If not, then please consider doing so. For there really is only one way to pass this faith along,generation to generation.

Worshiping God the Gardener

Here's an image of God that might be new: God … the gardener.

Actually, the image isn't new at all. It goes all the way back to the beginning — to the Garden of Eden.  

"God is in the garden with hands in the dirt, holding the soil so close as to breathe the warmth of life into it."  So says Duke Divinity School professor Norman Wirzba — also known as "the dirt theologian."

Wirzba's earthy theology challenges the Greek Platonic notion that the material world we inhabit — our bodies and our planet — is all a kind of unfortunate imprisonment for our souls. Wirzba says that idea is patently unbiblical. He writes, "Scripture is clear that we are supposed to share in God's love for the ground. Adam is created from out of the soil (adamah) and then is promptly told to take care of the ground," (Genesis 2:15). Wirzba says the devaluation of the material world has ended not in caretaking for creation, but rather in environmental exploitation, overconsumption, and neglect. And the church has contributed, in seeing its mission as solely limited to salvation in the spiritual realm and not taking into consideration our call to help redeem the physical world as well.

Wirzba and many other theologians and practitioners say in order to turn this environmental degradation around is a robust theology of creation care.

Why am I telling you this? I would like for us to discern a call to build a garden on our land at Second B.

When I traveled to Israel I was struck by how much the land and the people are a part of one another; they are the chosen people in the holy land. As such, they take seriously the Biblical idea that salvation is not only about saving souls for heaven, but about bringing the kingdom of heaven down to earth. As we toured all around the countryside I could see groves, gardens, and vineyards, all supplied by slow-drip irrigation lines and interspersed with parks and other open greenspace. Our tour guide Laura noted there is a Biblical impetus behind all of this. "We are trying to make the desert blossom," she said, "just like the prophet Isaiah said would happen when the kingdom of God comes."  


When Laura said that, something clicked in my brain. "I know of another place that is increasingly becoming desert like — home," I thought. "I could see home looking something like this."

Water — or the lack thereof — is increasingly becoming the number one issue facing our community and the rest of the Southwest. On April 1 the city of Lubbock instituted new water restrictions for homes and business using municipal water. At church, we have our own well, so we are legally exempted from most of these restrictions. But we are not morally exempted. It is really God's water; and we are called to be good stewards of it.

One way to do that would be to put our water to more productive use with a garden. We could start with a few raised beds which might be used to grow vegetables and herbs which we could then donate to the Food Bank to help feed our city. Perhaps we might even open a few beds for people in the apartments behind us to use for their own family gardens. It would truly be a community garden. We would still have plenty of greenspace for our youth to play on and our neighbors to enjoy with a sense of hospitable welcome. Imagine what it would be like for those driving around the Loop to look over (quickly I hope) and see a church taking creation care seriously. And on Wednesday nights our Mission Friends program could take the children out to help dig around and plant seeds, hoe weeds, and harvest plants. It would be hands-on theology. It could be, well, Edenic.


I am sounding a call here. A few people have already expressed an interest in helping to envision this project. One even suggested we should ask MiracleGrow to sponsor us! We will be meeting sometime this summer to invite others who may have ideas to join us. All we need is a few green thumbs and lots and lots of workers.

Of course, we are not going to feed the city with a small garden. Nor are we going to solve our water shortage crisis. But we could model the way.  


We could be the Church that the 21^st century needs — a church that knows that its role is to care for all of creation — body and soul . . . and soil. A church that worships God the Gardener.

The Eastertide

We are still in the Easter Season and this means the Sunday Gospel lessons continue to tell of the appearances Jesus made to the disciples after his resurrection. He came to them on the mountain at Galilee, he walked with them on the road to Emmaus, he cooked fish for them on the beach at daybreak, and he broke bread with them at table in Emmaus. The Gospels clearly want to show that Jesus was raised from the tomb.

Last Sunday I preached on the resurrection. My text was from Luke 24, when Jesus came and stood among his disciples and invited them to touch and see that it was indeed he and not a ghost. "Look at my hands and my feet," he said, "It is I myself. Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have."

After church a woman from the congregation met me in the Grand Hall with a profound thought. The story from Luke reminded her of another resurrection story in the book of John -- when Jesus appeared before all of the disciples except for the disciple Thomas. Thomas didn't believe a word of it. "Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe," Thomas told the other disciples.  

A week later Jesus came and stood among them again and this time Thomas was present. Jesus showed Thomas his hands and his side. "Stop doubting and believe," Jesus said.

"My Lord and my God!" Thomas exclaimed.

"Isn't it interesting," the woman on Sunday said, "how even though Thomas did not believe what the other disciples were saying about the resurrection, he was still allowed to be with them."
  

Her point was clear. One does not have to believe in order to belong. The early church left room for doubters; today's church ought to do the same.

               
 I've been reflecting on that conversation ever since Sunday. It was a week later that Jesus appeared to Thomas. On one level that tells me that a lot can happen in a week. Somebody shows up Sunday after Sunday because they want their children to be taught good Christian morals in Sunday School, but he really doesn't believe — never has. Next Sunday something happens. Suddenly he's walking the aisle and the preacher has that deer in the headlights look like, "What is he doing? We've talked, I know he doesn't believe." But he does. One Sunday he doesn't and the next he does. A lot can happen in a week.

               
In the liturgical calendar Easter is more than one single Sunday. It's fifty days — seven whole weeks. Easter is a whole season.

                
The church mothers and fathers used to call the Easter Season the Eastertide. I like that. Easter is like a tide. It doesn't come all at once. It washes ashore, wave after wave. It doesn't hit everybody at once. The tide is inevitably rising, but it comes in its own time. You can't rush it.

               
I imagine that there are plenty of folks reading this who feel a little like Thomas — doubting, skeptical, not quite sure about all this Easter business. If so, then I ask that you go ahead and give yourself permission to be a Thomas. Go ahead and doubt. Insist on proof. Wait and see. But wait with us. Don't leave. There's room for doubters among us and we will give you that room. Wait and see and we'll wait with you. Because a lot can happen in a week. A lot can happen this week.

                
And just imagine what can happen in seven weeks . . .

On the Freedom of Forgiveness

Here's something to think about during Holy Week . . .

Will Willimon, Bishop of the North Alabama Annual Conference of the United Methodist Church, says a few years back he got a call from a Methodist parishioner who was just livid her pastor had the gall to stand up in the pulpit on a Sunday morning and pray for Osama Bin Laden. Willimon picked up the phone and called this pastor to see if it was true and to see if the pastor could under- stand how this woman and others might have been offended. The pastor said it was true and that he understood how offensive it might have been. "But," the pastor said, "the only one I have ever known God to raise from the dead was the same man who taught us to pray for our enemies."

Jesus did indeed teach us to pray for our enemies. And more than that, he prayed for his own enemies — even as they mocked, flogged, and crucified him. As the nails could be heard driving into his hands, "Father, forgive them," was heard coming out of his mouth.

Jesus lived by his own teachings. He died by them also. And that is the reason God raised him up also. As Peter it in his sermon before the very same people who conspired to have Jesus killed, "This man was handed over to you . . . and you, with the help of wicked men, put him to death by nailing him on the cross. But God raised him from the dead, freeing him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him" (Acts 2:23, 24).

Are there people in your life you need to forgive? Have you been wronged or betrayed or utterly abused? Holy Week is the time to pray for our enemies. It is the time to put into practice Jesus’ teachings — even his most of- fensive teachings. It is the time to say, "Father, forgive them."

A people who dare to forgive like Jesus are already raised like him also. When we pray "Father, forgive them" we unlock the door of sin and death, not only for them, but also for us. In other words, it is impossible for death to keep its hold on forgiveness.

And so in forgiving we are made free —- and we are free indeed.

The deaths of two Martins: A Call for a New Nonviolence

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. died forty-four years ago today. Given the momentous life Dr. King lived, and the place of honor he has come to receive, it is easy to forget how young he died - only 39 years of age. Like Jesus of Nazareth, Dr. King was struck down before even turning forty, and yet like his Lord and Savior, his life, legacy, and dream lives on.

As we solemnly remember Martin Luther King's death this year, we cannot help but also having in our minds another Martin who died too soon - Trayvon Martin, who was killed by George Zimmerman, a neighborhood watch captain was appointed to help protect the neighborhood after a rash of breakins. For reasons we are all speculating about, Zimmerman found Martin suspicious, followed him, and claims he was then attacked by him. When police arrived Martin was lying in the grass in a pool of blood.

We will never know exactly what happened between Martin and Zimmerman which led to Martin's death. Whatever did happen, we can all agree it ended in tragedy. I would like to suggest this tragedy underscores our need to learn more creative and non-violent responses to crime, suspicion, fear, insecurity, and intimidation - the kind of creative and non-violent practices Dr. King himself embodied throughout his life and ultimately even up to the day of his death.

Most people know that the King-led Montgomery Bus Boycotts of 1955 were Gandhi-inspired demonstrations of non-violent, direct resistance to evil. It was Dr. King's insistence on the power of non-violence which began the Civil Rights movement in earnest. What most people do not know, is that it was Dr. King's continued belief in the power of non-violence which brought him to Memphis on that fateful day thirteen years later.

In March of 1968, Dr. King was planning a "Poor People's Campaign" where he intended to bring busloads of poor people to the Mall on Washington, DC in a massive demonstration against policies which Dr. King saw as keeping millions of Americans endemically poor. Prior to the Washington campaign, however, Dr. King answered a plea from Rev. Jim Lawson to come and assist Memphis sanitation workers - mostly black - in a protest for more decent pay and working conditions. On March 28 Dr. King led an ill-prepared march which was interrupted by rioting and mass looting. Dr. King left the march and soon Memphis and 4,000 National Guardsmen were called out to quell the rioting.

The March 28 march would be King's last. It was perhaps the nadir of his involvement with mass demonstrations. Never before had a march led by Dr. King broken out in violence among his own ranks. The lack of training among the marchers on March 28 is rightfully considered a blunder on the part of the King and the other march leaders. Critics seized on this as an example of Dr. King's waning ability to lead mass groups of young blacks. If this is what happened in Memphis, what would happen in Washington?

Dr. King needed to act quickly to come back to Memphis with more staff trained at leading non-violent demonstrations in order lead a more disciplined march through Memphis, lest both the campaign in Memphis and also in Washington be lost. This was the reason why Dr. King was back in Memphis on April 4th - to continue his insistence in the power of nonviolence and to put it into better practice.

For as Rev. Dr. Benjamin Elijah Mays said in his eulogy at Dr. King's funeral just five days later, "[Dr. King] went up and down the length and breadth of this world preaching nonviolence and the redemptive power of love . . . Nonviolence to King was total commitment not only in solving the problems of race in the United States, but in solving the problems of the world."

George Zimmerman insists he does not have a race problem. He did, however, have problems for which more creative and nonviolent solutions must be sought out. Breakins were a problem and a neighborhood watch program was a good response. Vigilance is needed; vigilanteeism is not. The purpose of watch programs is to reduce incidents in a neighborhood. Zimmerman failed flat out on that and it came at a great cost for him and an even greater one for Martin. On the flip side, if we take Zimmerman at his word and suppose he is telling the truth when he says Martin attacked him, certainly we could understand the desire to defend oneself from a perceived threat. Yet, I have to wonder what else would be expected of Martin in response to being followed by an armed man? Run away? That's pretty unlikely.

The killing of Trayvon Martin underscores just how desperately we need alternative solutions to the violence in our streets today. Dr. King, Rev. Lawson, and the other leaders of Gandhian resistance, knew that nonviolent direct action takes creativity and discipline that must be learned and practiced in advance of an incident. Turning the other cheek, and walking the extra mile do not come naturally, but they are necessary tactics for survival in volatile situations.

Perhaps what is most needed is a new generation of such leaders who can teach neighborhood watch groups disarmed and disarming ways to deal with criminals in their neighborhoods. Likewise, they could teach young people like Trayvon Martin the skills necessary for engaging antagonistic situations without either suffering the indignity of running or the danger of fighting. What we need is the "third way".

The Quakers have a saying: "If in seeking to kill the beast, you become a beast, then beastiality has won." We must confront the beasts, but we cannot confront him by becoming him. What we need is another way; the nonviolent way - what Dr. King called "the only road to redemption."


For a great essay from King on nonviolence please see his article "Nonviolence: The Only Road to Redemption" at:

http://teachingamericanhistory.org/library/index.asp?document=1426

For more information on King's role in the Memphis sanitation workers' strike and the place where I got much of the history for this essay see and listen to:

http://americanradioworks.publicradio.org/features/king/

Prodi-Gay Son Returns to Ordinary Family

Correction: The after-film discussion will be with Robert Peaslee, assistant professor of Mass Communications at Texas Tech, and not Bill Kerns.

Today I interviewed actor and Lubbock native Chad Miller about his role in the indy film An Ordinary Family (trailer above). The film depicts the lives of a gay man, his priest brother, and their struggle to reconcile with one another.

The film is hyped as, "A cross between Modern Family and Guess Who's Coming for Dinner". In our interview Chad and I talk about some of the religious themes in the film. Chad says the story depicts what he called the return of the "Prodi-Gay Son". Whoa.

The film shows as a part of the Flatland Film Series next Saturday, April 7 at 7pm at Firehouse Theatre. Flatland Film Series is presented by The Louise Hopkins Underwood Center for the Arts.

A conversation will follow between Chad and Lubbock Avalanche Journal Arts and Entertainment editor and Second B member Bill Kerns.

I will be there no doubt.

Click here for my interview with Chad.

Remembering a Moses at Mt. Nebo

Below is an excerpt from my Holy Land travelogue. Though Second Page articles are usually not publications of thoughts I have shared in sermons, I thought many former Second Ber’s across the country who knew Everette Abernathie would appreciate reading it. Everette was truly a giant in our church. He is already missed dearly.

We got word last night that Everette Abernathie had passed away. Everette was the first person to sign the charter on our church and the man behind the Sick Children's Clinic for all these years. A true pillar.

I once listened to the tape of the memorial service Second B had for Bob Hearn, our first pastor. Charlie Johnson read from a letter Bob had written to Charlie upon his arrival as Second B's third pastor in 1990. "Trust the spirit of Anita and trust the Spirit of Everette," Bob told Charlie. Now both Anita and Everette are gone.

I hate it that I am missing Everette's funeral tomorrow. But if there were any other place around the world I might wish to be it would be right where we were today at Mt. Nebo. The Moses on Mt. Nebo story is the story of the great leader whose time has come. He goes up Mt. Nebo, sees all of the Promised Land, but cannot go over Jordan with the rest of the Israelites. Instead, he goes to be with the LORD.

On Mt. Nebo today the Catholic priest indulged our group by giving us a few minutes in the chapel "for a Mass." We began with Becky Corley reading a call to worship from the Book of Common Prayer's preface for All Saints Day based on Hebrews 11: "Who, in the multitude of thy saints, hast compassed us about with so great cloud of witnesses. . . ."

I then told the group about going to see Everette in his room at Crown Point Rehabilitation for what would be the last time. He was asleep in his room and so I sat down at his bedside and held his hand and began to sing all the hymns I could remember. I sang Amazing Grace, and Sweet, Sweet Spirit. Everette was only semi-conscious. I didn't know if he could hear me. But when I sang the old Negro Spiritual Swing Lo, Sweet Chariot, Everette's mouth opened and his tongue began to move with the rhythms of the song:

I looked over Jordan,
And what did I see,
comin' for to carry me home?
‘Twas a band of angels comin’ after me,
Comin’ for to carry me home.
Swing Lo, Sweet Chariot, comin’ for to carry me home.
Swing Lo, Sweet Chariot, comin’ for to carry me home.

There in that little chapel, we sang that spiritual and then I read from Deuteronomy 34:8: "The Israelites wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days, then the period of mourning for Moses was ended." And then I added the first word of verse 9, "Joshua." I talked about how this last chapter of the book of Deuteronomy is a hinge. It serves not only as the final chapter of the whole Exodus story, it also serves as a segue into the first chapter of next book and next generation: the Joshua generation. Deuteronomy describes how before Moses went up Mt. Nebo, he first sang a song. Then he gathered all the Israelite tribes before him and he blessed them — he blessed the next generation.

At the conclusion of the service I invited everyone to come forward and receive an anointing with oil upon their forehead. "Moses gave his blessing to the Joshua generation," I said. "Now Everette gives his blessing to us. The chariot has swung lo; we wear the mantle now."

After the service we went out to the western edge of Mt. Nebo, just above Mt. Pisgah. The day was hazy and so we could not see all that Moses saw. In fact, we could see very little really. Yet, we could see enough; the rest we took on faith. In other words, we trusted the Spirit.

And now we move forward. We are the Joshua generation, moving from the wilderness over Jordan into the Promised Land. And we are blessed to carry Everette's song with us:

If you get there, before I do, Comin’ for to carry me home
Tell all God's children, I'm comin’ too
Comin’ for to carry me home.

Remembering Innocents

Last night Second B's sanctuary was the site for a vigil to remember the hundreds of children who were killed by child abuse in 2011. We co-hosted the event in partnership with Family Guidance and Outreach Center of Lubbock and about 300 bikers.

Yes, you read that right, bikers - as in motorcycles, bandanas and lots and lots of leather. Interestingly, the biker community has really rallied around the cause of child abuse here in our community. Whenever someone is on trial for child abuse, bikers clad in black leather wearing bandanas and goaties show up in court to watch. The point is clear - if you mess with kids, you mess with bikers also.

Before my invocation, I told those gathered that they didn't look like the usual Sunday crowd here at Second B. They laughed in agreement.

But, I said, it is appropriate that a church be the site for this kind of event. I told them about having just come from Bethlehem, and the church of the Nativity, the place where Jesus was said to be born. Beneath that church there is a cave, which serves as a crypt. And there is buried there in that crypt the bones of the children who were killed by King Herod when he came after baby Jesus and ended up killing all the children two and under in and around Bethlehem.

"Nowhere else in the history books is that event chronicled," I said, "except in the Bible. The people of God remember."

The Church calls that event the Slaughter of the Innocents. Truly all those names which were read and remembered were indeed innocent. And truly we will continue to remember, until the slaughter of innocents ends. Because when you mess with kids, you mess with bikers - and you mess with the Church also.

Redeeming Mulatto

For those who are mixed race or have mixed race children, here is a theological reflection by Brian Bantum (black/white) on the meaning of Christ's mulatto (God/human) nature.

Redeeming Mulatto: Race, Culture, and Ethnic Plurality from Quest Church on Vimeo.

We Have Seen Emergence Christianity & It Was Once Us

I began last week's reflection with a quote from our 2012 Adult Retreat leader Phyllis Tickle: “If ever I saw an Emergence bunch of folks, it's you all!”

That makes me feel good. It's exciting to think someone from the outside looks at us and thinks we are about the things that make for a cutting edge church. Everybody likes to be seen as being relevant to the times. Thank you. Phyllis.

And then she hit us with a blindside. She called us the Jerusalem Church.

The Jerusalem Church?

In the book of Acts, the Jerusalem Church was the church led by James the brother of Jesus and a number of other conservative Jewish followers of Jesus. They were the ones who took issue when newer churches like the one at Antioch started allowing Gentiles to come into their fellowship without having to observe Jewish customs like circumcision and dietary law. The Jerusalem Church was the conservative "home church," while Antioch was the cutting edge, Emergence church.

How can this be? How can we be both an Emergence church and also the Jerusalem Church?

The answer is time. If you remember, when the Jerusalem Church was first founded at Pentecost, it was the cutting edge, church of the Emergence. But a quarter of a century passed between that day and the time the Antioch Church was founded. The same is true for us at Second B. When we were founded in 1958, we did indeed have all the charismatic characteristics of Emergence Christianity (you can read these in last week's article). We still do. But now we also have the institutional characteristics of a Jerusalem Church — an aging congregation, high operational costs, established forms of organizational structure, decision-making, and worship —which are said to define "who we are", etc.

None of this is bad in and of itself. It's simply what happens to the Jerusalem Church in the pages between the Day of Pentecost and the founding of the Church at Antioch. The task of a Jerusalem Church like ours is to remain open to new movements of the Holy Spirit which will certainly move us from "who we are" in the present toward what God calls us to be in the advent future.

We call such movements "renewal" — a making again. Renewal is the re-making of the Jerusalem Church, not into the Church of Antioch, but rather again into the Church of Pentecost — a church ready to be born again by the wind and flame of God's power.

You can read more about what this renewal might mean for Second B next week.

We Have Seen Emergence Christianity & It Is Us

Phyllis Tickle said it herself: “If ever I saw an Emergence bunch of folks, it's you all!”

And that is no doubt true. We were born in 1958 and set out very early to be a different kind of Baptist church. Let me name just three such ways in which we were different that immediately come to mind and which embody Emergence Christianity.

Tickle talks a lot about the "erosion of Sola Scriptura" in the church. She says the end of slavery, the evolution of women's roles in society, the prevalence of divorce, and now the traction of gays gaining more acceptance in society have all worked to erode the notion that we must abide by the strict letter of the New Testament. Very early on we affirmed our love and respect for the Scriptures but freed ourselves from wooden interpretations which suffered no women to speak in church (much less pastor one) and excluded divorcees and gays from the life of our church. Of course, we have no slaves in our pews.

Tickle also says we are entering into a "hyphenated" world where strict denominational lines will be blurred. Early on, we recognized that Jesus has "sheep not of this fold" (John 10:16) and therefore embraced Christians of other denominations. Accepting non-Baptist baptisms — it was called "alien immersion" — was one thing that got us into hot water with other Baptists way back. As our former senior pastor Hardy Clemons once put it to me, "We thought it was more important to be Baptist than to be Southern Baptist, and more important to be Christian than Baptist at all." This kind of attitude allowed us to adopt the liturgical calendar and various liturgical elements in our worship which we share with Christians across denominations, geography, and even time.

Finally, Tickle suggests that the core theology which is driving Emergence Christianity is Micah 6:8 theology. I like it in the King James: "He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?"  Micah 6:8 theology rejects Christian triumphalism that so colored Christian missions like that of the Crusades and replaces it with an open-handed witness that seeks to show Christ through our efforts in building the kingdom of God in our own community and beyond.  In other words, we are not just about getting the world saved for heaven, but rather about seeking to bring God's kingdom "on earth as it is in heaven." I can think of no more beautiful ways that has happened than through our Sick Children's Clinic since 1961, and, more recently, our  St. Benedict's Chapel, Kids Hope, and jail ministries.

Given all this, I think Stephanie Nash nailed it on the head when she said something like, "At Second B, we may already be an Emergence church — I don't know if that is good news or bad." It's good news of course if we want to feel like we've been steadily moving with the Spirit through our past. It may be disappointing news, however, if we were looking for a magic bullet which would rip open a hole to our future.

Instead, what we have been given is just a peep hole into that future. Next week, I will try to peek through that hole and tell you what I think I see. And the surprising thing is, the lens I'm going to use will come out of our past — the book of Acts and another book The Incendiary Fellowship, written by Elton Trueblood in the 1960’s, in which there is a chapter provocatively titled "Conditions of Emergence."

The Pillars of the Church

Doug and Thelma Wright lived in Doug's grandfather's old farm house up East Road about a mile from the church. They were both born and baptized in our church, and they got married there right after Doug returned from building ships during WWII. They never left after that. They remained until we buried Doug in 2009. They had been married for 63 years. Thelma died last year. They were both in their nineties when they passed. They had been members of the church all their lives.

One of my fondest memories of being as pastor, was walking through the kitchen door into that old farmhouse and smelling their big, wood burning stove. Many wonderful things happened next to that stove. This is one of them:

Afterward, I stood with Doug in the middle of the kitchen next to the stove. I took his hand in mine and prayed for this family and his health. At the end I concluded by looking him in the eyes and making the sign of the cross across the top of his freckled, balded forehead. "You are a pillar of our church," I said. "After 90 years, you are a pillar." I looked down. Thelma was seated in the chair at the table. I turned and crossed her forehead as well. "And you too Thelma."

"Well," Doug said slowly, "we're not as involved as we used to be. Can't come to all the meetings like we used to could."

"I know," I said, "but that's the thing about pillars. They're often hidden; but everything you see depends on them. If they weren't there everything would fall."

Thelma rose up from the chair to her full stature of 4'10'' tall. She was old and frail, but the Spirit was still strong.

"Well, she said, "then I hope we're strong posts."

"You are," I said. "You are."

(Re)-Emerging Seasons

I promised a second installment on Phyllis Tickle and "The Great Emergence." I do have some thoughts on what "Emergence Christianity" might look like at Second B, and I am going to share those more broadly here next week. But since this Sunday is the first Sunday of Lent I want to offer some reflections on how Emergence Christianity is rediscovering ancient spiritual practices like the liturgical seasons.

In his letter to the Galatians, the Apostle Paul was writing to new Gentile Christian converts who were being taught by some unknown Jewish Christians (yes, Jewish Christians!) that they should follow the Jewish laws, rituals, and feast days as part of following the way of the Messiah Jesus. Paul saw this as a limitation being placed upon the Gospel, and if you know anything about Paul you know he did believe in limitations on God's good news. He wrote, "Formerly, when you did not know God, you were enslaved to beings that by nature are not gods. Now, however, that you have come to know God . . . how can you turn back again to the weak and beggarly elemental spirits? How can you want to be enslaved to them again? You are observing special days, and months, and seasons, and years. I am afraid that my work for you may have been wasted" (Galatians 4:8-10).

The Church for its part has mostly taken what Paul had to say on matters like these with a grain of salt. A liturgical calendar was created which did set aside certain seasons and days as unique. Advent was a time of preparation for the coming of the Christ at Christmas. Lent was seen as a season of reflection and penitence leading up to Easter. The Church has therefore followed a certain rhythmic liturgical calendar of one sort or another for almost all of its history.

With the appearance of Martin Luther's doctrine of Sola Scriptura, this all changed. The invention of the printing press in the 15th century put the Bible in the hands of the masses and they began to read and interpret it for themselves. Emboldened by Luther, many concluded that the Roman Church had misled them in all manners of things — including the Church calendar. So out went Advent and Lent in a lot of Protestant churches — including all Baptist churches. And our Puritan forbears even went one step further. They did away with Christmas and Easter. For 22 years in Boston there was actually a law banning the celebration of Christmas. To borrow a line from C.S. Lewis, it was "always winter, but never Christmas."

But now "The Great Emergence" is happening. We no longer live in small religious enclaves like the ones our Puritan forebears created in Massachusetts. We Protestants have Catholic neighbors, bosses, sons-in-law, and even a former president. And we are beginning to see that just because it is Catholic does not necessarily mean it is suspect. So most Baptists can now admit that Easter and Christmas are church holidays we received from the Catholic liturgical calendar! ("Honey, did you know that?") And Baptists like Second B have even gone so far as to recognize the place for special seasons like Advent and Lent, where we take time to reflect and observe through spiritual disciplines like prayer, fasting, and service.

So what then do we do with the Apostle Paul? I suspect "Emergence Christianity" will take Paul much like the Church has historically taken him — with a grain of salt. We will heed his warnings not to be enslaved to the merely religious. In other words, we need not be slavish about the way we practice Lent. But we will not be bound to the wooden dogmatism of Paul's words when it comes to slaves obeying their masters or women obeying men or special days, months, or seasons.

For as the wisdom of Ecclesiastes says, "To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose."

-Ash Wednesday 2012