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 . . .