Recalling a Father's Lesson in Words of Shame

     "Just wait until your father gets home!”  Those words, even today, strike a sense of fear and foreboding deep down within my soul. 

        Corporal punishment was a way a life, a rite of passage, in the non-politically correct world of the 1950s and 60s.  While I only recall a few times receiving an all-out, down-home, honest-to-gosh “whooping,” the mere threat of such a cataclysmic occurrence was enough to keep me walking the straight and narrow most of the time.

        But without question, the most severe punishment I ever received from my father came not from the force of his hands but in his words of shame when I acted most inappropriately at a football game. We had traveled to an out-of-town game one Friday night; I must have been around 12 or 13.  I saw some of my friends and asked my dad if I could go and see them.  “Just be back in time for kickoff,” he said.  Football was like church, when the main event started you were expected in be in your seat paying close attention. 

        There were several of us who were horsing around near the end zone while the teams warmed up.  We were having a grand-old time when the band marched out onto the field and prepared for the national anthem.  One of my friends had the bright idea that when the band started playing we should march like soldiers.  Then one of the guys said, “Hey, I know what would be even better.  Let’s do the goose step!” 

        The PA announcer asked the crowd to stand for the national anthem.  Everyone stood, placed their hands over their hearts, and faced the flagpole at the end of the stadium.  As the band began playing and the American flag started to ascend the rusted pole, a group of boys performed the goose step march for all to see. 

        We only marched two or three steps before we stopped in a fit of laughter, but it was a nervous laughter, because we immediately knew we had done something terribly wrong.  I hung my head and went back to the stands to sit beside my father.  I expected a harsh reprimand with a promise of a “whooping” when we got home, but my father didn’t say a word—he didn’t have to.    

        We sat through the entire game in total silence.  Like a condemned criminal on death row awaiting his execution, I somberly pondered by fate.  When the game was over we quietly walked to the car.  The tension was palatable.  I’m sure my dad was carefully choosing his words as he smoked a cigarette, the smoke being pulled out of the little vent window, the steady sound of the wind whistling through the car until my dad finished his smoke and pulled the window shut creating a sudden ominous silence.  My heart was about to burst. 

        “Son,” he said sadly.   “I was ashamed of you tonight—very ashamed.” 

        I tried to hold back the tears as my father spoke of the war veterans who had been at the game, including some who had been held by the Germans as a POW.  He told me how many of those men had seen their best buddies slaughtered by those goose stepping Germans.  He talked about the high price of freedom, of the blood that so many had shed.  He told me that I had disrespected every man who had fought for our freedom, and while he didn’t mention himself, he was one of those veterans, too. 

        His final words were, “Don’t ever make me ashamed of you again.” 

Whenever I honor our veterans in a worship service, write a newspaper article on the significance of Memorial Day, or speak on the precious gift of freedom I think of my father and the powerful lesson I learned that night.  I know there were many times I did not live up to his expectations after that painful event, but I don’t think I ever gave him a reason to be ashamed of me again.  He died 18 years ago.  I will be thinking of him tomorrow on Father’s Day.  I hope I have made him proud.

The Saga of a Light Momentary Weird Affliction

        Dear friends, for the past two weeks I have been wallowing in the valley of what the Apostle Paul termed as “a light, momentary affliction” on the road to glory.  And it all started with something that was just plain “weird.”

        About five years ago I noticed a small growth forming on my right wrist.  My first thought was, “This is what happens to old people.”  Then I remembered that I am one of the old people!  So I went to see my good friend, the founding father and grand potentate of all things orthopedic, Dr. Gordon Kammire who did a thorough examination and x-rayed that sucker before making his bona fide diagnosis.   “Ray,” he said.  “That thing is just plain weird.”  Now that I had the official medical ruling I decided to leave weird enough alone.

        Over time it grew larger and a second growth was forming.  I tried to recall if I had been abducted by aliens as I searched for a rationale for this enlarging weirdness.  People were starting to notice my abnormality and comforting me by saying:  “What is that weird thing on your hand!”  I went back to Dr. Kammire who said we could either whop that sucker with a big, heavy Bible (KJV-Red Letter Edition) or he could cut it out.  Not wanting to endanger a Bible, I opted for the latter.  The good doctor proceeded to prescribe some high octane pain killers and told me he would see me at the hospital.

        Now friends, I must tell you that I was treated like royalty when I arrived at Lexington Medical Center for my surgery.  They commenced to work me over from head to toe, telling me that everything was going to be all right, and asking me if I had any concerns.  “My only concern,” I said, “Is what my sermon is going to sound like after I take those heavy duty pain killers?”  They said they sure would like to be there to hear it!

 They explained that they wouldn’t be putting me to sleep, just my arm.  This was fine with me.  I could see myself back in surgery shooting the breeze with Dr. Kammire while he was whacking away on my hand.  They starting poking around in my shoulder and told me if my arm started twitching, that was a good sign.  Well before I could announce the hymn, my arm was flopping around like I was directing the choir. 

Everything was looking good, and I kept waiting for my arm to go night- night, but it didn’t happen.  They were getting ready to roll me into surgery and Dr. Kammire was raring to go, but my arm was no more asleep than a kid on Christmas Eve.  I mentioned it to a nurse who told me not to worry; they always had a backup plan. I could see them giving me a shot of whiskey and a leather strap to place between my teeth as I would say in my best John Wayne voice, “Start cutting Pilgrim, and don’t stop until we send that sucker back where he belongs.”

As they rolled me into the operating room I told everyone how much it reminded me of the embalming room where I used to work in my former life in LA (lower Alabama).  I remember saying that our patients never talked back.  That was when they put this mask on my face and told me to breathe deeply and I quit talking back.

Well friends, things got interesting after they hushed me up.  Dr. Kammire cut that growth wide open and what he found inside was weird.  He sent that sucker to pathology and after running a myriad of tests they agreed, it was just plain weird.  Meanwhile, I woke up to find my right arm bandaged up like an Egyptian mummy.   I’ve been totally helpless since my surgery which has been both humbling and enlightening.  Believing that God brings good out of every situation, even weird ones, I found this scripture:  “Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts: and in the hidden part thou shalt make me to know wisdom.”  (Psalm 51:6 KJV)

I could not have asked for better medical care.  Dr. Gordon Kammire and his colleagues are the best orthopedic surgeons you will find anywhere.  The entire outpatient staff was exceptional.  From the minute I walked in the door I was treated with kindness, respect, and compassion.  Everyone was friendly and showed genuine concern.  I’m healing up nicely and believe it or not, I haven’t taken a single one of those pain killers.  We are blessed in Lexington to have such an exceptional hospital and compassionate heath care professionals.

Celebrating Twenty-Nine Years of Faithful Service

Change doesn’t come often to venerable First Baptist Church on West Third Avenue. There have been two senior ministers in the past 54 years; Jean Ashley, the Martha Best Children’s Center director, has faithfully served for 33 years; and only two associate ministers have served in the past 40 years. But if you feel the Earth tilt next week it is because change is a coming, and this old preacher is having a hard time believing it is true.

Our associate minister, Tommy Wilson, my good friend and trusted colleague, is retiring after 29 years of faithful service to our church. For the first time in over 26 years, I will be flying solo; I’ll be sailing in unchartered waters, and right now, I can’t imagine life without Tommy. Ask any member of First Baptist who the glue is who holds our church together, the stabilizer who keeps us on an even keel, the navigator who keeps us on a true course, and they will quickly answer, Tommy Wilson.

When Dr. Hoke Coon called a young associate from First Baptist in Albemarle in 1987, the church was preparing for an ambitious building renovation and addition. Tommy had been trained to be a pastoral minister, but little did he know he was about to receive a new education in building construction, renovation, administration and maintenance. When Dr. Coon announced his retirement, Tommy was suddenly in charge of a multi-million-dollar building campaign. And he excelled in every way.

Not every minister can serve as an associate. In many ways, it is a thankless job. The senior minister is always in the spotlight, the associate is often hidden in the shadows. But Tommy had found his niche and settled comfortably into the role of the church’s business administrator that evolved from his experience in the renovation. People have commented that Tommy and I have always been a good team, and I think we have. Part of it is because our gifts have complemented one another, but the bigger part is total trust, respect and loyalty. And there is no place in teamwork for competition or inflated egos.

I could not have asked for a better associate. I was quick to tell people that Tommy ran the church, and I meant it. He ran our church with competency and efficiency. He guided us through the recession years with an artist’s precision to detail. But Tommy is much, much more than a business manager; he is a compassionate and accomplished minister, and that is a rare combination. Tommy faithfully visits the sick and those who are in nursing and rehab facilities. He performs weddings and funerals. He is a great preacher. He genuinely cares about his flock.

Having such an amazing associate has enabled me to focus on preaching, teaching and community service. There is no way I could be as involved in the community without such a trusted colleague. But that doesn’t mean Tommy hasn’t made a difference in our community. He has been a driving force behind Habitat for Humanity. He has chaired the CROP Walk for hunger, served as president of the Greater Lexington Area Ministerial Association and served on the boards of the Department of Social Services and The Life Center. Tommy’s wife, Sandra, works with Pastor’s Pantry, and he is also very involved in this vital community ministry.

Tomorrow is Tommy’s last Sunday as associate minister of First Baptist Church. We are having a celebration — a big celebration to commemorate Tommy and Sandra’s 29 years of faithful and dedicated service. Tommy and I have worked together so long that we can usually tell what the other is thinking. We have done so many worship services and funerals together that we could almost conduct them in our sleep. Throughout these 29 years, Tommy has never failed me or the church. He has been totally and unequivocally faithful and loyal. He has excelled in every way.

Sunday is a celebration, not a funeral — thank goodness! Tommy is still young, and he will find many more ways to use his gifts in God’s service. Tommy and Sandra will remain in Lexington and continue to be a part of our church. Life at First Baptist will never be the same, but our church is deeply grounded in the good soil thanks to Tommy. And I have been blessed for 26 years to have Tommy as my colleague, my confidant, my minister and my friend.

Recalling A Dead Woman Walking

I don’t remember how old I was, maybe eight or nine, but I’ll never forget the day it happened.  I was riding my bike down Hickory Street on my way to the depot to greet the afternoon train.  But on this particular day I never made it to the train station.  By the time the train arrived, I was trying to recover from one of the greatest shocks of my young life.  I had heard stories in Sunday School about the very thing I had witnessed, but I never thought it would happen in real life.  I had just seen a dead woman—walking down the street!

My grandmother had a large network of friends—“the little old ladies” we called them.  They kept in touch with each other and I often overheard my grandmother on the phone sharing that Miss Louise, or Miss Elmer, or Miss Faye (we never addressed an elder lady without the appropriate Southern title—“Miss”) was not feeling well.  Most of the time not feeling well meant they had a “spell,” an ambiguous malady that covered a whole host of ailments. 

I figured that spells were not good and if you had enough of them they would certainly kill you.  For some reason my grandmother liked for me to go with her up to Peck’s Funeral Parlor for the viewings.  I didn’t mind because it was next to the railroad station and I could keep a watch out for trains.  The viewing room with the open casket was full of fragrant flowers where people spoke in hushed voices.  After the little old ladies admired how good she looked and speculated on the last time she wore that dress to church, they got down to the serious business of what led to their friend’s demise. 

“Well you know,” one of the ladies would usually say while the others leaned in intently, “she’d been having some spells.”  The other little old ladies would gravely shake their heads in agreement while I slipped away to look for some trains. 

One afternoon my grandmother told me that we needed to go to the funeral parlor to see Miss Louise.  “What happened?”  I asked with surprise.  Miss Louise was often at my grandmother’s house and I always liked her.  “Had she been having some spells?” 

The funeral parlor was packed with little old ladies that afternoon.  Miss Louise’s death was a great shock, even though she had been having some spells.  I went up the casket and sure enough, there she was, Miss Louise.  “She just wore that dress to church last Sunday,” I heard one of the ladies say.  I remembered the dress and recalled her being at my grandmother’s house just a few days before.  I couldn’t believe she was gone but the most unbelievable thing was what happened a few days later.

As I rode by bike down Hickory Street I saw none other than Miss Louise walking on the sidewalk.  It all seemed so normal that I didn’t process it at first.  There was Miss Louise, in fact she smiled and said hello.  But the last time I saw her she was in a casket!  Suddenly my heart starting racing and I started to tremble.  As I turned around and headed for my grandmother’s house I thought about Jesus calling Lazarus out of the grave.  Is this what happened?  Had Jesus arrived on the afternoon train?  Was he closing shop at the funeral parlor? 

Out of breath I ran into my grandmother’s house and reported that I had witnessed a miracle.  “You’re not going to believe it,” I said.  “But I just saw Miss Louise walking down the street!”  My grandmother started to laugh!   She laughed so hard I thought she was having a spell.   “You didn’t know that Miss Louise has a twin sister?” she finally said. 

Tomorrow morning on Easter Sunday you are going to hear about a man who came back from the dead.  We will read Scripture, sing hymns, hear anthems and sermons—all about a man who was dead one day and alive the next.  Will anyone be laughing?

Lexington's Finest--True Heroes

        Every day I drive past the home of David Parde, one of the nicest guys I know.   David is always positive, always grateful, and simply loves life.  In my book, David is a hero, but he insists he is not.

Every Thursday morning I sit beside Jimmy Truell at a Men’s Bible Study at the YMCA.  Jimmy retired after a long and distinguished career at the Lexington Police Department and is now following God’s call as a pastor.  He balances his time between theology classes at Duke Divinity School and serving the Dulin United Methodist Church in Davie County.   I also consider Jimmy to be a hero.  He does not. 

As a young officer in 1984, Jimmy was answering a domestic disturbance call when he was shot in the head.  Through God’s grace he recovered.  Six years later David was answering a suspicious person call at an apartment complex when he was shot in the back. The bullet left David permanently paralyzed as it tore through his left lung and caused irreparable damage to his spinal column. 

        The brave men and women who faithfully serve our communities as police officers constantly face the same danger.  Already this year, eight on-duty police officers have been killed by gunfire—five of these taking place the second week of this month.  Forty-two officers were killed in 2015.  Every time an officer knocks on a door, stops a car for a traffic violation, or responds to a call for help, they never know what danger is lurking in the shadows.  They place their lives on the line each and every day to keep our communities safe. 

        But there is a troubling wave of discontent in our nation.  A recent Gallop Poll revealed that U.S. confidence in our police force is the lowest it has been in 22 years.  Disturbing events in Ferguson, Missouri and North Charleston, South Carolina have scarred the image of law enforcement across the nation.  While our police officers often deal with the worst of humanity, they are expected to present a positive image regardless of the danger or abuse they are routinely subjected to endure.  The public is quick to jump on a police officer who fails, but seldom affirms the overwhelming majority who faithfully fulfill their mission with integrity and kindness.  But Lexington, North Carolina is not following this national trend!

        We are blessed to have one of the finest police departments that you will find anywhere!  Police Chief Mark Sink and his department excel in building positive community relations.  Their pro-active stance in preventing crime, developing a strong Community Watch program, and involvement in the community has resulted in Lexington being recognized as one the safest cities in the state.  But even more is the spirit of trust and respect that our citizens hold for our Police Department.  Chief Sink and his exceptional officers work hard to build this trust as they are engaged in the community in a variety of ways.  A few weeks ago patrons of Pastor’s Pantry were surprised to have our Police Chief and several of his officers loading their groceries.  In ways large and small they are serving our community. 

        All of these officers are heroes in my book as they face danger every day.  Consider our history:  In addition to Jimmy Truell and David Parde, Lexington Police officer Tommy Clodfelter was shot responding to a domestic call in 1970.  Frank Henderson was stabbed on an arrest on South Main Street in 1980.  Jay Enelnick was shot on a traffic stop in 1986.  But still, Jimmy said, “We don’t consider ourselves heroes.  Looking back, I feel we all just love people.”  And David said, “Please remember I am not a hero. I was just a 25 year old kid doing the job he loved, who got to do the job he always wanted to do, and then it ended.  Not all people can say that!”

        On Palm Sunday, March 20, the faith community will gather at the Old Courthouse on the Square as we celebrate our Lord riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, a symbol of humility and peace.  This year we are doing something special.  We are honoring our “peacemakers,” the dedicated officers of the Lexington Police Department.  These faithful officers are our friends.  Jimmy Truell put his service in perspective when he said “Lexington NC is our community and our friends whom we all protected.”  “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”  (John 15:13)

        The men from the YMCA Thursday Morning Bible Study and several area churches are raising the funds to purchase “Policeman’s Bibles” for the entire Lexington Police Force.  We are also inviting the entire force to join us for lunch on Palm Sunday at the YMCA.  The Bibles will have LPD embossed on the cover.  

A Pigskin Conundrum

        Two teams are preparing for the Super Bowl.  One is led by an old-school traditional quarterback with a proven record.  He has always done things the right way.  He’s not cocky or braggadocios. When he scores a touchdown he politely hands the football to the referee and jogs off the field, not placing himself in the limelight.  The other team is led by a young, brash quarterback who rubs a lot of people the wrong way.  While the older, proven quarterback is methodically going about preparing for the game with his systematic work-ethic, the young guy is parading around, bragging about his team and even guaranteeing that he will win the game!

        What you didn’t hear that he has guaranteed his team will win?  He sure did, while he was lying on the beach surrounded by beautiful girls.   You didn’t know he was at the beach?  Who are you talking about? 

        I’m talking about the young, brash, upstart quarterback of the New York Jets, Joe Willie Namath, who famously guaranteed that the New York Jets would beat the Baltimore Colts and Johnny Unitas in Super Bowl III—and they did!

        No one thought the New York Jets, the American Football League Champion, would have a chance against the National Football League Champion, the Baltimore Colts.  The Colts were led by an old-school traditional quarterback who was past his prime, Johnny Unitas.  The Jets were led by Broadway Joe, who was the perfect representative of the upstart American Football League.  Most people viewed the AFL the way most of us look at the Arena Football League today.  Sure it was new, fun, and entertaining, but it wasn’t on the same level as the storied, traditional NFL.  Most traditionalists were upset that they were even having to play the game.  Hadn’t Vince Lombardi and the Green Bay Packers proven in the first two Super Bowls that the NFL was far superior?  Surely the mighty Colts would crush the upstart Jets and expose the league and the cocky young quarterback for who they really were---a second rate team and league. 

        Johnny Unitas was definitely past his prime.  In fact, he didn’t even start the game.  Johnny Unitas was the winning quarterback in the “Greatest Game Ever Played:” the 1958 NFL Championship Game between the Colts and the New York Giants.  Johnny Unitas led the Colts down the field to a sudden-death overtime win to claim the title.  Even though that was ten years before, old-school traditionalists knew that an old Johnny Unitas was still head and shoulders above a young Joe Namath. 

        I watched Joe Namath play football for Bear Bryant and Alabama.  He led the Tide to the 1964 National Championship.  So I was pulling for Joe and the Jets, right?  Wrong!  I was a traditionalist, I was old school (even when I was a kid) I didn’t think the Jets belonged on the same field as the Colts.  I was pulling for the NFL all the way! 

        Even though I pulled for Joe Namath in college, I didn’t like his antics.  I was fond of quoting Bear Bryant who said, “When you get in the end zone, act like you’ve been there before.” 

        Here we are 47 years later getting ready for the Super Bowl.  You have a proven, old-school traditional quarterback in Payton Manning who doesn’t showboat or brag and a young, upstart, braggadocios kid who loves to dance and prance around on the field like he’s in a Broadway Show.  And don’t forget the fact that this kid is from Auburn!  Alabama’s archenemy!  So there’s no question who I’m pulling for, Payton Manning, right?  Wrong!  

        I love Cam Newton!  He’s the best thing that has happened to the NFL (Can you say “No Fun League!”)  He is just having fun!  And he is reminding all of us that football is “just a game.” 

        Come Super Bowl night I hope to be dabbing and smiling as Cam dances his way to a great victory.  And if you don’t understand, just say I am a “Pigskin Conundrum.”  Hey, I lost that game 47 years ago.  I’m not about to lose this one!

       

Whatever Happened to Civility and Kindness?

            I can hear my grandmother now:  “If you can’t say anything good about someone, then don’t say anything at all.”  That was not just grandmotherly advice, it was her mantra; it was the way she lived.  She believed everyone had good qualities and rather than focus on a person’s faults, we should affirm their goodness and self-worth.  As Christians, we are expected to “Be ye kind one to another” as the King James Bible proclaims. 

        We were taught to be kind, considerate, and understanding.  Not only was it not Christian, but it was just plain disrespectful, to malign, insult, or openly question the character of someone else, no matter how much of a scoundrel they might be. Name-calling, insults, and slander were beneath the dignity of good, decent Christians. 

There were times when we would have fights with our siblings or other kids.  They were not really fights, but more name-calling and swapping insults.  That was when we were forced to say something “good” about each other.  We may not have meant it, but we were able to shake hands and make up and by the next day all was forgotten. 

        Whatever happened to civility and kindness?   Are the men and women who are seeking the world’s most powerful office not intelligent or mature enough to exercise dignified decorum in the public arena?  Can we not see the incongruity of thousands of people cheering juvenile behavior that would result in their own children being punished for doing the same?

        Political polarization has increased dramatically in the past 25 years.  There are many serious issues in our nation on which we have fundamental differences.  We need leaders who will engage in an open, honest discussion and a dignified and civil debate that is grounded in a respect for all views with willingness to reason and compromise on essential differences.  There is no place for juvenile name-calling or brutish behavior.

        Negative campaigning is nothing new.  One of the ugliest political campaigns in American history was the 1800 election between President John Adams and his Vice President, Thomas Jefferson.  The two old friends, who had worked so well together on our nation’s independence, quickly resorted to vicious mudslinging and name-calling.  Jefferson called Adams a “hideous hermaphroditical character” and Adams responded by calling Jefferson “a mean-spirited, low-lived fellow, the son of a half-breed Indian squaw sired by a mulatto father.”  That was only the beginning.  It got worse. 

        But 12 years later the two old friends turned enemies, started writing letters to each other.  They reclaimed their friendship through reasonable, respectful and civil discourse.  They discussed issues as wise and mature men, not as angry children.  Their letters have become one of the most remarkable literary gems in American History.

        Abraham Lincoln was one of our wisest presidents.  When he was elected to office in a highly contentious election, he didn’t demean or humiliate his opponents, he appointed them to offices of power as members of his cabinet.  Lincoln believed that his opponents were good men with different ideas.  By bringing people with essential differences to the table they all learned to compromise for the common good and it probably saved our nation during the Civil War. 

        There are valuable lessons to be learned from the wisdom of Abraham Lincoln and the reconciliation of John Adams and Thomas Jefferson.  My prayer is that we can elevate our political debate to a higher level so that it is conducted with dignity, respect, and civility.  

Isn’t there something more important than being a Republican, Democrat, or Independent?   Yes, there is---being an American.

        And isn’t there something more important than being an American?  Yes, there is—being a Christian.  

        Isn’t it about time we all starting acting like Christians?  Yes, it is and especially time for the men and women who are seeking the most powerful office in our land to act like—adults!

                                                                       

                                                                     

Let Me Walk With My Brother In Perfect Harmony

        Our Christmas Eve Candlelight Communion Service is the best attended event of the year at First Baptist Church on West Third Avenue.  It is also one of our most traditional services; little has changed over the past 30 years. But this year we did something different.  After the singing of Silent Night with lighted candles in the darkened sanctuary, I spoke of the darkness we have experienced in our world over the past few months as a result of terrorism.  Then I asked the worshipers to hold their candles high if they believe that light is greater than darkness and peace on earth is possible as we sang, “Let There Be Peace On Earth.”   Everyone did and it was a powerful moment.

        My greatest prayer as we enter 2016 is that we find peace on earth.  I realize that most people feel this is an impossible dream, but I have to believe it can happen.  If I truly believe that the light is greater than the darkness, that perfect love casts out fear, that Jesus is the Prince of Peace, and that the Kingdom of God is love and peace, then I most also believe that peace is possible, yes it truly is!  But I also know that, as the song proclaims, it must begin with me. 

        What is the greatest threat to peace?  Most of us would quickly respond that it is the Islamic State commonly known as ISIS.  They want to establish an Islamic theocratic state and they also want to destroy all who would defy them.  Western values are an anathema to ISIS. There is no question that ISIS is our enemy and must be defeated.  But is ISIS our greatest threat?

        We will never find peace until we learn to value every human life and seek to understand and respect those who are different.  Anytime a person, a group, a religion, or any movement claims absolute truth and degrades, maligns, or vilifies those who have different views, peace will not be possible.   ISIS is a sick perversion of Islam.  ISIS does not represent the true spirit of the Islamic faith or the great majority of the Muslim people.  ISIS is our enemy; Islam is not. 

        Islam is the fastest growing religion in the world and in the US.  At the present time approximately 31% of the world’s population is Christian and 24% is Muslim.  It is predicted that by the year 2050 the number of Muslims will equal the number of Christians.  If we are going to have peace on earth, I must first understand more than I now do about the Muslim faith and secondly, I must learn to respect them and live peaceably with them despite the fact I disagree with them.

        Let me be clear.  I am a Christian.  I am not a Jew.  I am not a Muslim.  But I have more in common with Jews and Muslims than I realize.  We all worship one God.  We have the stories of Adam and Eve, Noah, Abraham, and Moses in common.  We share many of the same values.  Muslims and Jews also believe that Jesus was a great prophet.  While I believe Jesus is the Son of God and Jesus provides the way to God, this does not mean that I condemn or demonize those of the Muslim faith who disagree with me. 

        What would Jesus have us do?  Jesus taught us to love our enemy, but does Islam have to be our enemy?   I think Jesus would want us to treat people of the Islamic faith with dignity and respect.  We should learn to how to talk with one another.  Christians need to learn about Islam and Muslims need to learn about Christianity.  We should focus on what we have in common.  But most of all we should be a Christian in our attitudes, our actions, and our relationships to the Muslim people.  I have no doubt that we will find that our Muslim neighbors want the same things we do in life.  We want to find fulfillment and happiness, we want to make a positive difference in the world, we want to honor God and serve him by serving others, and we want peace on earth and good will to all humanity. 

        As the song says, “With God as our Father, brothers all are we.  Let me walk with my brother in perfect harmony.  Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me!”

       

                                                               

       

         

       

Should We Be Afraid? A Bibical Response to Terrorism

Soon after the cowardly and barbaric terrorists’ attacks on Paris, ISIS issued a threat to the United States. They claimed they were coming after Washington, D.C., then New York City, specifically Times Square. Should we be afraid?

Does the Bible have anything to say about terrorism? Oh, yes! The biblical world was full of terrorists and evil tyrants. Terrorism is nothing new; it is as old as sinful humanity. Terrorism operates out of fear, and the goal is to instill fear and uncertainty into the hearts of the people. This was the case in Isaiah 7, when not one but two evil kings sent a message to the people of Jerusalem much like the message ISIS sent to Washington and New York — we are coming after you, and we will destroy you.

The message had the desired effect for Isaiah 7:2 reports the hearts of the king and the people were shaken “as the trees of the forest are shaken by the wind.” This is when the prophet Isaiah confronted the king and said, “Don’t listen to the terrorists. It doesn’t matter what they say. What matters is what God says.”

And what did God say? Keep watch, keep calm, do not fear and do not lose heart. We are to be vigilant and cautious, calm and deliberate, but most of all we are not to be afraid, and we should never give up. But how is it possible to “fear not” when we have seen terrorists inflict so much death and destruction?

How is it possible? “God is sending a sign,” Isaiah reported: “Behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and his name shall be called Immanuel” (which means, God is with us). One of the most powerful promises in Scripture was given in response to a terrorist threat.

It would be over 600 years before the Virgin Mary wrapped her newborn baby in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, but Mary and Joseph were quickly forced to take their baby and flee to Egypt as refugees to escape the terrorism of Herod the Great. Three decades later the man “who was born of a virgin” was nailed to a cross by a ruthless government that ruled by fear and intimidation. Shortly before his execution he predicted that there would always be wars and rumors of wars. He said the terror will be so intense that the sun will be darkened and the stars will fall from the sky. (Mark 13)

I used to think this language was symbolic until 9/11. The sun was darkened on that cloudless September day, and the stars were falling from the sky along with the twin towers. And now we have not only the ISIS threat, but lone terrorists have attacked our children in schools, innocent citizens in malls and theaters, and even Wednesday night Bible studies have become terror filled.

But do you know what Jesus said right after he issued the dire warning in Mark 13? He said almost exactly the same thing Isaiah said to the king who was threatened by terrorism. Do not panic, do not fear and do not lose heart. Because, it’s not over. You can’t see it now, but a great day is coming when all that is wrong will be made right.

We are about to celebrate the coming of light into the darkness. No matter how deep, how forceful, how intimidating the darkness may be, it can never overcome and extinguish the light. Light is greater than darkness, love is greater than fear, for perfect love casts out fear.

The angel told Joseph that the baby’s name will be Immanuel, God with us. And God always has the final word. If God is for us, who can be against us? So hang on everybody. Don’t panic, don’t fear, don’t give up. We haven’t seen the end of this story, but we have a preview — we know what will happen. In the end, God wins! And evil, darkness, violence, wars and terrorism will be gone forever.

Lexington's Womderful Counselor

The Old Testament Prophet Isaiah foretold of the day when a “Wonderful Counselor” would come to God’s people to provide comfort, consolation, wisdom, and guidance.  Life is too hard and too complicated to make it on our own.  We all need a gifted counselor to help us navigate life’s turbulent waters.  Lexington has been richly blessed to have its own “Wonderful Counselor” for the past 35 years—Dr. Lee Dukes. 

        Lee Dukes is an icon in our community.  In October of 1980 he became the chaplain of Lexington Memorial Hospital, back when Lexington was a thriving community.  Furniture factories were in their prime, textiles were booming, jobs were plentiful, Lexington was growing and life was good.  The new hospital chaplain was creating new paths as he developed the Department of Pastoral Care and pioneered one of North Carolina’s first “Chaplain Associates” programs to provide continuous crisis intervention coverage. 

        In those early years Lee was directing four other hospital departments in addition to Pastoral Care:  Patient Relations, Social Services, Volunteer Services and the Adult Day Care, which was the predecessor of today’s Life Center of Davidson County.  Through all of this heavy responsibility, Lee was quietly developing a reputation as a wise and gifted counselor.  This is his strength, his calling, and his passion.  He has been present with countless numbers of families during times of trauma and grief, healed broken spirits, given new hope and direction to the despondent, helped those who were devastated by crisis to see new possibilities, provided wise counsel to professionals facing major career decisions, and he has been God’s faithful prophet, proclaiming comfort, redemption and grace to those in darkness.  Lee has helped untold numbers of individuals and families through times of distress.  Yes, Lee Dukes is Lexington’s “Wonderful Counselor.” 

        His long and respected tenure at Lexington Medical Center will end next month.  It is hard to picture Lexington hospital without Lee Dukes. A new chaplain has been called and a CareNet Office (a counseling service through Baptist Hospital) will begin offering services, but it just won’t be the same without Lee!

        Lee has blessed this community in so many ways.  In addition to the Life Center, he is also a founder of one of our greatest ministries, Hospice.  He has been one of the strongest advocates and leaders in the new FaithHealth initiative that will be continued by his successor.  In the hospital Lee is the face of bio-ethics and has facilitated this committee for decades.  He initiated and developed the first in-house assistance program for hospital employees to provide psychotherapy services when needed.  And there are scores of individuals who have not had the resources to receive Lee’s services, but he has provided them anyway. 

        Lee first came to Lexington in the 1970s as the Associate Minister of First United Methodist Church.  He has always been available as a trusted resource to the clergy and at least once a year leads an educational session with the ministerial association.  He is our community’s most vocal and eloquent spokesman for Mental Health.  No one has felt our state’s deficiency in dealing with the mental health crisis more than Lee.  He understands that we cannot have a healthy community without adequate mental health resources.  

        My family and I are personally indebted to Lee for his professional counsel and his personal compassion.  He has touched the lives of countless numbers of families in our community with wisdom and mercy. His retirement from the hospital is a monumental change for all of us, but because of his legacy Lexington is better equipped to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God. 

        Thank you Lee for being our “Wonderful Counselor!”