I have a confession to make: I have been blogging elsewhere. I've got a bunch of posts at my church's web site but I've failed to put them up here. I'll start adding them later. But for now I wanted to add this blog post from Max Lucado that I found very helpful. It's on the presidential campaign that's being waged and on Mr. Trumps behavior in particular. I'm not going to apologize for being a Christian. This blog is designed intentionally to be sensitive to those who don't have the same faith as I do. And for that reason, I rarely put up posts that are political. I just don't think its always helpful. But truthfully, I'm so disgusted with some of the political antics going on, I'm putting this one up. Lucado, who by all accounts is a gracious man, takes Trump to task; and well he should. Read the post. If you disagree with me, fine. But at least consider it.
Decency for President by Max Lucad
As the father of three daughters, I reserved the right to interview
their dates. Seemed only fair to me. After all, my wife and I’d spent 16
or 17 years feeding them, dressing them, funding braces, and driving
them to volleyball tournaments and piano recitals. A five-minute
face-to-face with the guy was a fair expectation. I was entrusting the
love of my life to him. For the next few hours, she would be dependent
upon his ability to drive a car, avoid the bad crowds, and stay sober. I
wanted to know if he could do it. I wanted to know if he was decent.
This was my word: “decent.” Did he behave in a decent manner? Would
he treat my daughter with kindness and respect? Could he be trusted to
bring her home on time? In his language, actions, and decisions, would
he be a decent guy?
Decency mattered to me as a dad.
Decency matters to you. We take note of the person who pays their
debts. We appreciate the physician who takes time to listen. When the
husband honors his wedding vows, when the teacher makes time for the
struggling student, when the employee refuses to gossip about her
co-worker, when the losing team congratulates the winning team, we can
characterize their behavior with the word decent.
We appreciate decency. We applaud decency. We teach decency. We seek to develop decency. Decency matters, right?
Then why isn’t decency doing better in the presidential race?
The leading candidate to be the next leader of the free world would
not pass my decency interview. I’d send him away. I’d tell my daughter
to stay home. I wouldn’t entrust her to his care.
I don’t know Mr. Trump. But I’ve been chagrined at his antics. He
ridiculed a war hero. He made mockery of a reporter’s menstrual cycle.
He made fun of a disabled reporter. He referred to the former first
lady, Barbara Bush as “mommy,” and belittled Jeb Bush for bringing her
on the campaign trail. He routinely calls people “stupid,” “loser,” and
“dummy.” These were not off-line, backstage, overheard,
not-to-be-repeated comments. They were publicly and intentionally
tweeted, recorded, and presented.
Such insensitivities wouldn’t even be acceptable even for a middle
school student body election. But for the Oval Office? And to do so
while brandishing a Bible and boasting of his Christian faith? I’m
bewildered, both by his behavior and the public’s support of it.
The stock explanation for his success is this: he has tapped into the
anger of the American people. As one man said, “We are voting with our
middle finger.” Sounds more like a comment for a gang-fight than a
presidential election. Anger-fueled reactions have caused trouble ever
since Cain was angry at Abel.
We can only hope, and pray, for a return to decency. Perhaps Mr.
Trump will better manage his antics. (Worthy of a prayer, for sure.) Or,
perhaps the American public will remember the key role of the
president is to be the face of America. When he/she speaks, he/she
speaks for us. Whether we agree or disagree with the policies of the
president, do we not hope that they behave in a way that is consistent
with the status of the office?
As far as I remember, I never turned away one of my daughter’s dates.
They weren’t perfect, but they were decent fellows. That was all I
could ask.
It seems that we should ask the same.
© Max Lucado
February 21, 2016
Friday, February 26, 2016
Friday, May 29, 2015
The Seven Deadly Sins--Greed
Been
preaching on the Seven Deadly Sins—really interesting study. Just finished the
sermon on greed. Here is a quote on greed from Clement of Alexandria, a second
century theologian, that I found really interesting. I think that this was
taken from a sermon he did from Mark 10 on the Rich Young Ruler. Clement notes
that by making God your
treasure we defeat the life stealing thief of greed. Here is what he says:
“For he who
holds possessions and gold and silver and houses as gifts of God, and from them
ministers to the salvation of men for God the giver, and knows that he
possesses them for his brothers sakes rather than his own, and lives superior
to the possession of them; who is not the slave of his possessions, and does
not carry them about in his soul, nor limit and circumscribe his own life in
them, but is ever striving to do some noble and divine deed; and who, if he is
fated ever to be deprived of them, is able to bear their loss with a cheerful
mind exactly as he bore their abundance—this is the man who is blessed by the
Lord … a ready inheritor of the kingdom of heaven, not a rich man who cannot
obtain life.”
Challenging thoughts. Greed is so much a part of our lives, we are completely unaware of it.
Saturday, November 29, 2014
Welcome Kaylee Becker
The Philly Marathon, Life, and Ministry
Labels:
Ministry,
Personal,
Race,
Running,
Spiritual life
Monday, November 17, 2014
Losing Weight--Again!
I’m
losing weight, again. An elbow injury is keeping me from lifting weights, my
schedule is keeping me from physical therapy that would put me on the path to elbow
recovery, and my marathon training is cranking up the mileage and I’m burning
thousands of calories at a time (Last Saturday I estimate that I burned 2200
calories in three hours). I’m having a hard time replenishing. I’m so busy I
just don’t eat enough. One lady at church looked at me Sunday and said, “When
you get back here, I’m going to fatten you up!” Hmmm. For what?
So I’m going on a see food diet. If I “see food” I’m going to eat it. I’m also going to put fasting on hold—something I did for a number of weeks. (I’d preached on it so decided to practice it leading to the inevitable loss of even more weight)
Here’s the plan: I’m going to eat smaller meals more often, and get physical therapy to get healed up so I can start to lift weights again. But the challenge to keep weight on when in serious training for marathons is really interesting. In High School and College I competed as a wrestler where I had to lose roughly fifteen pounds to make weight. The struggle to keep the weight off was sometimes brutally painful. I remember stepping on a scale once and weighing 140 lbs. I had to cut down to 118. The fear of losing 22 lbs in a short amount of time put me immediately on a diet. Now, I can’t keep weight on for the life of me. Not sure why. Wrestling practice in college was twice a day and was considerably more difficult than what I’m doing to train for marathons. I don't get it!
Oops. Got to go. Time to eat. And for those of you who read this post and struggle to take weight off? Please don't hate me. When people don't like me, I lose weight.
So I’m going on a see food diet. If I “see food” I’m going to eat it. I’m also going to put fasting on hold—something I did for a number of weeks. (I’d preached on it so decided to practice it leading to the inevitable loss of even more weight)
Here’s the plan: I’m going to eat smaller meals more often, and get physical therapy to get healed up so I can start to lift weights again. But the challenge to keep weight on when in serious training for marathons is really interesting. In High School and College I competed as a wrestler where I had to lose roughly fifteen pounds to make weight. The struggle to keep the weight off was sometimes brutally painful. I remember stepping on a scale once and weighing 140 lbs. I had to cut down to 118. The fear of losing 22 lbs in a short amount of time put me immediately on a diet. Now, I can’t keep weight on for the life of me. Not sure why. Wrestling practice in college was twice a day and was considerably more difficult than what I’m doing to train for marathons. I don't get it!
Oops. Got to go. Time to eat. And for those of you who read this post and struggle to take weight off? Please don't hate me. When people don't like me, I lose weight.
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Exercise--the West's New Religion
In
the front of his book, The Reason for God,
Tim Keller notes that both orthodox Christianity and Secular irreligion
(Atheism in some cases) are gaining footholds around the world. This sets us up
for a philosophical and political clash of the Titans which we experience in a
variety of ways. What I never expected, however, was to experience it in
exercise.
Behold, the new religion of exercise. This religion has all the makings of a cult with its stringent orthodoxy (training with sledge hammers and tires), its well spoken advocates (coaches and workout instructors), and its more than willing participants (normally younger men and women). This is of interest to me since in the past ten years of my life I’ve dabbled in the extreme sport of marathon running. Now it would appear that training for marathons, and even running them, is really no longer extreme. It’s something people do to check off their “bucket list.” However, the new paradigm of exercise has taken things to another level. It’s not conditioning to accomplish a sport but conditioning for conditionings sake and often in the most extreme fashion. What is valued is the exercise for exercise itself. Instead of preparing us for some athletic competition, it drives the one exercising to what is ultimate, provides protection for a future apocalypse, and seeks to provide answers to life’s real meaning
New York Times writer, Heather Havrilesky, in an October 14, 2014 article entitled, Why Americans are so Fascinated by Extreme Fitness says this about this new tendency towards physical fitness:
“…our new religion has more than a little in common with the religions that brought our ancestors to America in the first place. Like the idealists and extremists who founded this country, the modern zealots of exercise turn their backs on the indulgences of our culture, seeking solace in self-abnegation and suffering. ‘This is the route to a better life,’ they tell us, gesturing at their sledgehammers and their kettlebells, their military drills and their dramatic re-enactments of hard labor. And in these uncertain times, it doesn’t sound so bad to be prepared for some coming disaster — or even for an actual job doing hard labor, if our empire ever falls.
It makes sense that for those segments of humanity who aren’t fighting for survival every day of their lives, the new definition of fulfillment is feeling as if you’re about to die. Maybe that’s the point. If we aren’t lugging five gallons of water back from a well 10 miles away or slamming a hammer into a mountainside, something feels as if it’s missing. Who wants to sit alone at a desk all day, then work out alone on a machine? Why can’t we suffer and sweat together, as a group, in a way that feels meaningful? Why can’t someone yell at us while we do it? For the privileged, maybe the most grueling path seems the most likely to lead to divinity. When I run on Sunday mornings, I pass seven packed, bustling fitness boutiques, and five nearly empty churches.”
Did you get that? People rather suffer the extreme pain of “hard labor physical fitness” than the emptiness of religiousity. Very interesting. Truthfully, I agree with them. Churches are empty for a reason and exercise boutiques are full of people for a reason. Maybe we should consider why. After all, while exercise may prolong your life, it never promises to save your soul. If anything, it delays the inevitable. So why are churches so empty and exercise facilities so full? Maybe its because churches have lost their way, like everyone else, and haven’t figured it out yet. Check out the article. It will be worth a read.
http://www.nytimes.com/2014/10/19/magazine/why-are-americans-so-fascinated-with-extreme-fitness.html?module=Search&mabReward=relbias%3As%2C{%221%22%3A%22RI%3A8%22}
Behold, the new religion of exercise. This religion has all the makings of a cult with its stringent orthodoxy (training with sledge hammers and tires), its well spoken advocates (coaches and workout instructors), and its more than willing participants (normally younger men and women). This is of interest to me since in the past ten years of my life I’ve dabbled in the extreme sport of marathon running. Now it would appear that training for marathons, and even running them, is really no longer extreme. It’s something people do to check off their “bucket list.” However, the new paradigm of exercise has taken things to another level. It’s not conditioning to accomplish a sport but conditioning for conditionings sake and often in the most extreme fashion. What is valued is the exercise for exercise itself. Instead of preparing us for some athletic competition, it drives the one exercising to what is ultimate, provides protection for a future apocalypse, and seeks to provide answers to life’s real meaning
New York Times writer, Heather Havrilesky, in an October 14, 2014 article entitled, Why Americans are so Fascinated by Extreme Fitness says this about this new tendency towards physical fitness:
“…our new religion has more than a little in common with the religions that brought our ancestors to America in the first place. Like the idealists and extremists who founded this country, the modern zealots of exercise turn their backs on the indulgences of our culture, seeking solace in self-abnegation and suffering. ‘This is the route to a better life,’ they tell us, gesturing at their sledgehammers and their kettlebells, their military drills and their dramatic re-enactments of hard labor. And in these uncertain times, it doesn’t sound so bad to be prepared for some coming disaster — or even for an actual job doing hard labor, if our empire ever falls.
It makes sense that for those segments of humanity who aren’t fighting for survival every day of their lives, the new definition of fulfillment is feeling as if you’re about to die. Maybe that’s the point. If we aren’t lugging five gallons of water back from a well 10 miles away or slamming a hammer into a mountainside, something feels as if it’s missing. Who wants to sit alone at a desk all day, then work out alone on a machine? Why can’t we suffer and sweat together, as a group, in a way that feels meaningful? Why can’t someone yell at us while we do it? For the privileged, maybe the most grueling path seems the most likely to lead to divinity. When I run on Sunday mornings, I pass seven packed, bustling fitness boutiques, and five nearly empty churches.”
Did you get that? People rather suffer the extreme pain of “hard labor physical fitness” than the emptiness of religiousity. Very interesting. Truthfully, I agree with them. Churches are empty for a reason and exercise boutiques are full of people for a reason. Maybe we should consider why. After all, while exercise may prolong your life, it never promises to save your soul. If anything, it delays the inevitable. So why are churches so empty and exercise facilities so full? Maybe its because churches have lost their way, like everyone else, and haven’t figured it out yet. Check out the article. It will be worth a read.
http://www.nytimes.com/2014/10/19/magazine/why-are-americans-so-fascinated-with-extreme-fitness.html?module=Search&mabReward=relbias%3As%2C{%221%22%3A%22RI%3A8%22}
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
The Leaf Blower from Hell (or Heaven)
It
happened last Sunday (Sept 7). I was preaching, which is normal for me on a Sunday, and
just as I was heading into the punch lines of my sermon, it started: the leaf
blower from hell.
I don’t know what possessed the guy to turn it on at that time, right next to a church—on a hot day with the windows open—but he did. If you do any public speaking, you know when you have most people’s attention. In this case, while not everyone was locked in on my biblical exposition, I had most of them in spite of just explaining a very difficult concept. But when the leaf blower started, people were looking towards the windows, and glancing around at each other with curious looks on their faces.
I immediately got flustered and started sweating. I sweat very little so when I sweat, I’m uptight. It was so annoying I lost my place in my notes, couldn’t think straight, and essentially read the rest of the sermon directly from the notes so it would at least make sense to those who could actually hear it, or who tried to pay attention despite the distraction.
It was irritating to say the least. What was more irritating to me later was why I let it irritate me to begin with. Psalm 119:165 says, “Great peace (rest) have they who love your law, and nothing can make them stumble.” Clearly, my rest is not found in God’s providential work of leaf blowing. While I doubt very much that the person blowing leaves was antagonistic towards us as a Christian church, he or she was clearly used by God to teach me a lesson. Rest and peace is not found in a tranquil environment where I get my way all the time. It's found in the middle of God’s will. Humorously, last Sunday, that included a disruption in the middle of a sermon with a leaf blower. Why not laugh about it? Why not rest in Him in the midst of it? I choose to do so. So next Sunday Mr. Leaf Blower, bring it on!
The gospel says that its not how people respond to my preaching that makes me loved in Gods eyes but Gods dealing with the real issues in my life—my sin, my depravity, and the radical self-centeredness of my heart. So Mr. Leaf Blower, I invite you back (should you read this blog)—this time come to church (and leave your leaf blower outside) but should you turn that noisy thing on again, I’ll preach, laugh, and rest in Gods presence and not in whether or not I’m popular because I preached well.
I don’t know what possessed the guy to turn it on at that time, right next to a church—on a hot day with the windows open—but he did. If you do any public speaking, you know when you have most people’s attention. In this case, while not everyone was locked in on my biblical exposition, I had most of them in spite of just explaining a very difficult concept. But when the leaf blower started, people were looking towards the windows, and glancing around at each other with curious looks on their faces.
I immediately got flustered and started sweating. I sweat very little so when I sweat, I’m uptight. It was so annoying I lost my place in my notes, couldn’t think straight, and essentially read the rest of the sermon directly from the notes so it would at least make sense to those who could actually hear it, or who tried to pay attention despite the distraction.
It was irritating to say the least. What was more irritating to me later was why I let it irritate me to begin with. Psalm 119:165 says, “Great peace (rest) have they who love your law, and nothing can make them stumble.” Clearly, my rest is not found in God’s providential work of leaf blowing. While I doubt very much that the person blowing leaves was antagonistic towards us as a Christian church, he or she was clearly used by God to teach me a lesson. Rest and peace is not found in a tranquil environment where I get my way all the time. It's found in the middle of God’s will. Humorously, last Sunday, that included a disruption in the middle of a sermon with a leaf blower. Why not laugh about it? Why not rest in Him in the midst of it? I choose to do so. So next Sunday Mr. Leaf Blower, bring it on!
The gospel says that its not how people respond to my preaching that makes me loved in Gods eyes but Gods dealing with the real issues in my life—my sin, my depravity, and the radical self-centeredness of my heart. So Mr. Leaf Blower, I invite you back (should you read this blog)—this time come to church (and leave your leaf blower outside) but should you turn that noisy thing on again, I’ll preach, laugh, and rest in Gods presence and not in whether or not I’m popular because I preached well.
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