March 2007 Archives

I read Elie Weisel's Night as part of a literature class in 11th grade, and ever since, I've been drawn to Holocaust literature. It's not fun stuff to read. It's pretty horrifying. What draws me? Probably the question which thunders to the forefront with each book: "How could people do this?"

How, indeed. But they did. And they could do it again.

Two weeks ago I finished Ordinary Men, an astounding book which focuses on a reserve police battalion--ordinary men holding ordinary jobs, most too old for the regular army--who got called up as reserve policemen and stationed in Poland. There, they participated in the deaths of 85,000 Jews, either directly executing them or herding them into trains bound for Treblinka and Sobibor.

The author asks:

How did these men first become mass murders? What happened in the unit when they first killed? What choices, if any, did they have, and how did they respond? What happened to the men as the killing stretched on week after week, month after month? [What were] the personal dynamics of how a group of normal, middle-aged German men became mass murderers?

The author magnificently weaves the recorded testimony of numerous men (they went on trial in the 1960s) into a chilling narrative.

Two weeks ago, I posted about my disappointment of setting up a meeting with several 20-something young men, and then nobody showed up. I said I'd give it another week.

Well, last week three guys showed up. Dan, Allen, and RJ. We sat around a table in the sanctuary (our sanctuary seating includes four large round tables, and people flock to them), and I walked them through the bridge illustration. I just wanted to determine where they were in their understanding of the Gospel and their personal experience with Christ. I wrote out some questions for them to respond to before we started chatting, things like: "I consider myself a Christian," "I think I'll go to heaven when I die," "It's possible to know for certain that you're going to heaven," and a couple more. Each question had four possible responses: Yes, No, I Think So, I'm Not Sure.

I tell you, it was a lot of fun. They all drew out the bridge, and then we moved on to the three Campus Crusade circles (with Christ on the throne, with Christ at the foot of the throne, and with Christ not even in the circle). I find those very helpful in picturing the three types of lives.

We talked about sin and forgiveness and Christ's death and eternal separation and "accepting Christ as Savior." I did a lot of probing, and by the end of the hour, I felt confident that all three were, indeed, Christians. So I guess I'm not gonna get any notches in my belt.

This past Monday night, Dan and RJ showed up. I had typed out about eight subjects on a sheet of paper, and we informally discussed four of them--The Church, the Holy Spirit, the Bible, and Witnessing. I am very comfortable leading a free-flowing, unstructured discussion, and that's what is required with these guys. I learned a great deal about them, things that surprised me. And they want to keep the discussion going next week.

So, disappointment turned into great reward for me.

Pastor Tim wasn't supposed to preach today. He and Tara were supposed to have their new baby last week, and Tim's dad, Gerald, was slotted to speak in his place. But the baby, alas, seems in no hurry to greet the world. And so there he was, speaking about pride, one of the Seven Deadly Sins in this "Vice-Busters" series.

He's been using a Bible figure with each sin, and today he used Joseph--that spoiled kid who thought he was better than his brothers (and was, actually, but that's beside the point)--to go along with pride. As an aside, Tim pointed out that, if you want good models of family life, the Bible is not the place to go. That's certainly true. You don't find healthy families in the Bible, just lots of dysfunction.

Why is that? When God put the Bible together, he was fully aware of what he was leaving out.

We're big on the family--family time, family values, strengthening the family, protecting the family, etc. We want our churches to be family-oriented, and we constantly stress the need for strong families. We take the gloves off in the political arena to protect our view of the "traditional," as-God-intended-it family.

The last thing I do each day, before leaving work, is check my email. Well, almost the last thing. I then close the email program, start the screen saver, and put the rechargeable mouse in its cradle. Then I leave.

It's a nice, liesurely, 25-minute drive home, during which I typically listen to ESPN, which has nothing new to contribute to my life. Upon arriving home, I turn on the computer and...check my email.

Because, after all, it's been a full 25 minutes since I last checked.

Does anyone else find musical ringtones annoying? You're in a meeting, or a church service, and somebody's phone goes off with a a vaguely familiar tune. It's loud, and the person takes forever to silence the thing. A few weeks ago in church, we heard Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie" several times (since the phone's owner was out of the sanctuary at the time). Ringtones are like fonts--there are zillions available, and you've got to try them all. So the theory evidently goes.

But the advance of technology has now created something even more annoying. At BP stations, when you start pumping gas, a voice from a speaker at the pump intrudes into my personal space with verbal advertisements. Thankfully, you can hit a "mute" button to silence the voice, an option I always take (as I did this morning). But I find this intrusion to be entirely diabolical and evil.

I thought nothing could be more annoying than pop-up ads. Then along came ringtones, and now these spoken ads at BP stations. I can hardly wait to see what's next.

I now officially like Mike Huckabee, who is running for President. I don't endorse him, and may not vote for him. But I like him. Why? Because he plays bass in his church's praise band.

Time magazine has a very interesting column by Joe Klein called The Second Commandment Republicans. Klein contrasts what he calls the "grace" views of Huckabee and Sam Brownbeck with the "condemnation" proclivities of Jerry Falwell, James Dobson, and Pat Robertson. I think that's a bit simplistic and unfair, but there's only so much you can do in a short column. And it does point out something worth pointing out.

Huckabee attends a church in Little Rock, Ark., which he describes as "very similar to Rick Warren's. We've gone from 25 members to 5000 in eight years. Our focus has been to minister to people who were otherwise neglected....We are a multicultural, multiracial congregation, with rich and poor."

I like that. I feel like Huckabee is a lot like me, and a lot like the new wave of Christian leaders, who emphasize causes that previously were the habitation of Democrats--concern for the poor, the environment, AIDS, etc. Rick Warren is perhaps the foremost person in this movement of new leaders, though he's not particularly leading anything (except by example). It'll take a long time for displace Falwell, Dobson, Robertson, et al, but the day is coming.

Klein mentions heaing Huckabee speak to the National Review's Conservative Summit, and stressing his views on feeding the hungry and healthcare. A person told Klein, "I think he's in the wrong party."

We've got a highly committed Christian interested in the poor, and Republicans are saying he sounds ilke a Democrat--that he doesn't belong in a Republican setting. Yes, there's a change coming, and it's a good one.

This really made me laugh. It's from my brother Rick's blog, Rick's (not so) Deep Thoughts, and it concerns his young son, Cameron.

I was home alone with Cameron the other night and Dorene called. When I hung up the phone, Cameron asked me who it was. I said, "It was the Pink Panther." Cameron said, "He's not real, who was it?" I said, "It was the American Dragon" (a cartoon Cameron likes). Again, Cameron said, "He's not real, who were you talking to?" I then said, "The Easter Bunny," to which Cameron replied, "He's real, but you weren't talking to him."

R. Albert Mohler Jr., the president of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Kentucky, opened up a can of worms. He said that if a gene is found that controls sexual orientation, he would support efforts to alter that gene inside the mother's womb, thereby changing a person from a homosexual to a heterosexual. He likened it to supporting "any appropriate means to avoid sexual temptation and the inevitable effects of sin."

So is he saying that homosexuality is genetically based? That that's how "God made me"? Such an admission will upset some Christians, who view homosexuality as changeable behavior. (Please, I'm not making any personal statement on the subject--just reporting what I read.)

But beyond that, it raises lots of ethical questions. What about doing other gene tampering with unborn fetuses--increasing intelligence, enhancing athletic ability, decreasing any disposition to violence? All kinds of possibilities arise. Since the avoidance of temptation is an issue, how about cutting the sex drive of all humans, regardless of sex or sexual orientation, while they are still in the womb?

The thing is, before I depart this earth, these issues will have gone beyond theory. People will actually have listings in the phone book as "Meddler in Human Genetics."

Tonight we held our fourth community Lenten service, this one at the Mennonite church. I had never before really noticed the Church of Christ, the Presbyterian church, or this Mennonite church. Nor have I noticed the Methodist church where we'll be next week. That's pretty sad. These are fellow churches trying to reach our community, and I've been insulated from them. Sad.

But we're getting past that. We're learning a lot about each other, and that we have much in common.

I appreciated the Mennonite pastor and what he told us about Mennonite history and beliefs. Their pacifist stand is, obviously, a central piece of their puzzle. I do appreciate how the Mennonites are consistent in their pro-life ethic, as opposed to us "Republican evangelicals" who mix-and-match, depending on what our religious leaders tell us to believe--be anti-abortion but pro-death penalty, for instance. The Mennonites are consistent.

Today I played in my first table tennis tournament, a big annual tourney in South Bend, Ind. Since I am unrated (you need to play in a sanctioned tournament to get a rating with the USA Table Tennis association), I played in the two lower categories, for persons rated under 1000 and under 1200.

They put you in groups of four, and you play a round robin--three matches, best of five games each. Whoever wins that table advances to the next round. Unless you're unrated, in which case you can't advance. Such was my lot. I won my table in both categories, the under 1000 and under 1200 (actually had much tougher competition in the under 1000). So I felt quite pleased with myself.

My toughest competition came from two girls--or, one teenage girl (who beat me) and a thirty-something woman who took me to a fifth game and I had to come from behind. We don't have any females in the Fort Wayne club.

So it was an interesting, fun experience for me. Next tournament, I'll be able to advance after winning my table (should that happen again).

I don't like being called a missionary, because I'm not. Don't tell me, "You can be a missionary right here in Fort Wayne, Ind." No I can't. It doesn't equate with relocating to Mozambique.

Anyway, I once wrote an article about this, sort of a rant, as my editorial in a denominational magazine I once edited. The piece was subsequently published in some other magazines.

Anyway, I posted in here for your glorious edification.

You may be surprised by the author I am about to recommend: Angelina Jolie. Yes, that Angelina, the Hollywood wild-child. Lately she's been getting some attention because of her role as Goodwill Ambassador for the United Nations High Commissioner on Refugees. I've been aware of that for some time. Her movie "Beyond Borders," with Clive Owen co-starring, involved UNHCR work in Ethiopia, Cambodia, and Chechnya. The DVD extras, spotlighting refugee crises in the world, were illuminating.

Then I read her 2003 book, Notes from My Travels. It's wonderful--just observations, journal-style, from travels to Africa, Cambodia, Pakistan, and Ecuador. She travels without an entourage--just herself, meeting up with UN people, and often finding herself in potentially dangerous places. Her eye for meaningful detail is impressive. She doesn't take potshots at America, as you expect celebrities to do. She doesn't pontificate, doesn't act like an expert. She just writes what she sees, and with great humility and compassion. And it's fascinating.

In the book's third paragraph, as she prepares for her first foreign visit--to Sierra Leone, in West Africa--she writes:

"I honestly want to help. I don't believe I am different from other people. I think we all want justice and equality. We all want a chance for a life with meaning. All of us would like to believe that if we were in a bad situation, someone would help us....I don't know why I think I can make any kind of difference. All I know is that I want to."

I was skeptical initially. But she won me over with this passage from a stopover in the Ivory Coast, while en route to Sierra Leone. She is standing in a marketplace, watching people.

"Contrary to our image of this country, it's people are civilized, strong, proud, stunning people. Any aggressive feeling is pure survival. There is no time for casual or lazy behavior.

"As I wrote that, I realized I am writing as if I am studying people in a zoo.

"I feel stupid and arrogant to think I know anything about these people and their struggles."

I feel downright sad for Sanjayah. The poor kid knows he shoulda been gone a long time ago, and that he's only in because of jokesters. He's trying his best, but he just doesn't have it. Yet he keeps getting voted to the next round. I'm guessing he'll be greatly relieved when he's finally let go...or IF he's finally let go. I'm sure Simon's nightmare is that his record company would have to try to make a star out of Sanjayah if he won the whole thing. It's nice, at least, that tonight the cameras weren't turned to Simon, Randy, and Paula when Sanjayah was told he's staying once again; we had two weeks of their open-mouthed gasps, and that was enough.

I wish the people who vote for Sanjayah would take this more seriously. And yet, It's sad, even pathetic, that Steve Dennie takes American Idol so seriously.

So much for this week's fluff report.

Last night was one of those disappointing ministry experiences. I talked to five young men in our church, all twenty-something, about getting together to talk about things related to the Christian life. They all said they were interested.

I was very excited about this. For the first meeting, I just planned to walk them through the bridge illustration, to determine their understanding of the gospel message.

I showed up at the church at 6 pm, anxious but a bit nervous. And waited. And waited. Nobody showed up.

I've had this happen before in ministry. You get all excited about something, and nobody shows. Or the one person you really wanted to be there doesn't show up. This stuff just goes with the territory. You realize that after it happens so many times, but you never enjoy it.

At our previous church, after Pam and I moved out of our apartment and bought a house, we were excited about hosting our Sunday night small group, which had about eight couples. We spent the weekend cleaning, bought plenty of snacks, and had everything ready, anxious to show off our new abode. And nobody showed up. Every couple in the group found something else to do that night. Yeah, that one stung big-time.

But last night--that didn't sting. It was just a huge disappointment. The stakes are high on this one, much higher than just showing off a new house. So I'll connect with the guys again, and we'll try next Monday night. Again. I really want this to happen. And maybe I'll spend a bit more time in prayer about it this week. That wouldn't hurt.

We just got back from Grace Presbyterian Church. Five churches in our community are hosting a Sunday night get-together during the Lenten season, and tonight--the third week--was Grace's turn. They're part of the Presbyterian Church USA.

They have a woman minister, which is a problem with a lot of people in my denomination. But not with me, and not with my church. Pastor Barb is a wonderful person with a sharp sense of humor. During the question and answer time, she gave a superb answer to the question, "How to Presbyterians explain pre-destination?" (It was evidently a planted question designed to stump her, but she was game.)

The Presbyterians also put out the biggest spread. This is supposed to be just a soup supper, to keep it simple. But they pulled out the stops with the dessert table. Wow, what a feast! I had one bowl of vegetable barley soup, and then hit the dessert table several times.

I thoroughly enjoy these folks. My denomination began when a German Reformed minister and a Mennonite minister, sensing that they shared the same heart for God, embraced and said, "We are brethren." Well, that's how I feel about these Presbyterians.

It's tragic that in so many communities, churches located near each other don't make any efforts to get acquainted. The pastors may get together, but the congregations keep their distance. But as we've discovered with these five heretofore-unknown quantities in our neighborhood, churches of different denominations are much more alike than they realize. Pastor Barb talked about their structure, how they have elders and deacons who serve for life, and all of this was totally foreign to me--very different ways of doing things. But nothing I found disagreeable. They have a strong process for identifying and shepherding persons who feel called to the ministry--something that is a huge weakness in my denomination.

And as Barb talked about God's Word, and about people coming to faith in Christ--this is what it's all about, and, indeed, "We are brethren."

I came across this quote from the blog of a North Carolina pastor, who went on an excellent rant against church-shoppers:

The church is a battleship, not a cruise ship. Pastors and leaders are generals to equip you for battle in the trenches, not cruise directors to make your stay more enjoyable on the Lido deck.

I have little patience for church-shoppers, those shallow Christians who "try out" churches as they search for the illusive perfect one for them. Maybe they'll settle into a church for a few months, maybe a year, but they keep the escape hatch open, ready to bolt if they get restless.

At some point, you just need to muster some maturity and commit to a church. Roll up your sleeves and declare, "This is my church. This is where I'm going to find nurture, and where I'm going to minister. And I'm not going to jump ship if the church falls on hard times, the pastor leaves, a new church with flashy promotion starts up nearby, or I just plain get upset about something. I'm committed to this church, whatever might come."

My first post-college abode was a house divided into three apartments: I occupied the upper level, another guy about my age lived right below me, and Don Brown lived in an apartment jutting off the main porch.

Don was an angry, bitter, disagreeable fellow. I met him one night as I returned from a church meeting. He stood at his screen door grousing about something--either about me or the landlord, I don't remember which--as I approached the door to the upstairs.

"What did you say?" I asked with good humor, walking to his screen door. He repeated it. Whatever it was. I joked back, and it disarmed him. He calmed down a bit--just a bit--and I asked him if I could come inside and chat. He hesitated about that, but relented with a gruff "Sure." Or something like that. It was 27 years ago. He opened the door, and I found a place on the couch while he settled into a recliner. He wore white shorts, probably boxers, but nothing else. No shirt, no socks. I remember his skin being very white and pale.

You need to read "Gordon MacDonald's 2008 Questions," a superb list of 11 questions he would ask of presidential candidates. He begins by referencing a secretive meeting some evangelical string-pullers held at a hotel in Florida, where Dobson and Falwell types (and probably Dobson and Falwell) were determing whom to annoint as the Christian candidate. MacDonald says, if he had been invited to that meeting, these are the questions he would want answered. It's great stuff. I'm right there with him.

Sadly, the answers to these questions that would satisfy me most likely would not come from Republicans.

Recently I told my brother Rick, a fellow blogger, that it had been a while since I had posted an anti-Bush rant. At this point, it almost seems like piling on. Most people now realize what a hideous failure the Bush administration has been and how it has severely damaged our place in the world and destroyed any claim to moral authority. The exceptions would be people who:

• Watch Fox News 24/7 and/or worship Rush Limbaugh.
• Have been kept in a medically induced coma.

I continually read stories which reference blunders by the Bush administration, but it's done in almost a so-so way, as if Bush's incompetence is old news and there's no sense dwelling on it. We're just killing time now until he leaves office and someone new can try to restore some sanity to what has been a self-indulgent, arrogant romp. Things which might have disturbed me in previous years now seem ho-hum, just more (as if we need more) evidence of how severely Bush has botched up my country.

Church services have changed greatly during my lifetime. I occasionally find myself harking back to services of my earlier, formative years. And yet, I like today's services. I thought I'd draw comparisons between today's church services and those of, say, the 1960s and 1970s, and see who wins.

Keep in mind that I'm speaking in generalities, and only from the tiny United Brethren corner of Christendom. So this is basically useless drivel with no statistical accuracy. As if that ever stops me.

Sermon content. Sermons have become (in general) shorter and more relevant to contemporary life. Less theology (not good), but more practical application. At the same time, sermons are more "sensitive" and less hard-hitting, less no-nonsense about what it means to be a Christian. Overall: it's a draw.

Last week, as Pam and I set the VCR before heading off to Wednesday prayer meeting, we decided we'd had enough of "Lost." So we skipped it. I noticed that in last night's episode, according to TV Guide, Hurley found a car. Yeah, I'm a tad curious. But not curious enough to resume watching. We're done with "Lost."

I'll keep a casual interest in what's happening, and will want to know how the series ultimately ends. But I suspect that when we discover what this whole island was about, it'll be intensely unsatisfying, and that the final explanation won't account for all kinds of things that have happened during the course of the show. Just like X Files.

Besides, I grew real tired of the main characters being couped up in cages through the entire fall. I loved the show for a long time. But my interest in remaining a regular viewer is gone.