by Greg | Nov 10, 2009 | Blog Posts
I am not known for clean cars. I like a clean car but most of the time my car looks like a piece of discarded lent parked between the lines. The other day one of my sons said, “Dad, I need some money. What can I do to earn a few dollars?” (there is no point in trying to guess which son I am talking about since both of them always need money. I was the same way at their age) “Wash my car,” was my response, “and I’ll give you ten bucks.” In fairness I should have paid them a hundred considering how dirty the car was. Like I said, I like a clean car but most of the time it looks used. This may go back to the days when I owned a pick-up. It stayed on the muddy side. Imagine as your pastor a muddy pickup parked outside of the church. Well, three other congregations suffered the indignity of my truck that was better suited to be parked outside of a honky-tonk instead of a church. Rarely was it seen in public clean because my philosophy was that only yuppies have clean pickups. It was true that my vehicle was not the sharpest in a funeral procession, but most of the time I rode with the funeral director, because my heater never worked. While I must apologize to you, my faithful congregation, that my car stays dirty more than it does clean, I make no apologies or excuses for any member who chooses to keep their truck burnished with thick layers of Georgia clay. Besides, trucks...
by Greg | Nov 3, 2009 | Blog Posts
This is my third and final blog related to my recent cruise. As you know I have fretted over getting sea sick given my propensity to motion sickness. Thanks to good advice and a prescription for a derma patch I survived my week at sea quite well. I enjoyed spending time with 47 folks from the church as well as leading a Bible study on the topic of “Extra-Canonical Literature,” all without the least bit of queasiness from cruising the Caribbean. What I was completely unprepared for was land sickness. Apparently for some of us readjusting to dry and steady ground can be a nauseating experience. It even has a name: Mal de Debarqument. I read where it is most common in pre-menopausal women…and apparently me. I assume there is not much to do but ride it out. Still, it is pretty embarrassing to sit at my desk and hang on for dear life while someone is trying to have a conversation with me. I just want my equilibrium back. Have you ever been sea sick or land sick? What about life sick? We have all had events come our way and like a rogue wave sweep us off our feet leaving us out of balance. I have a better understanding now of those disciples who were crossing the Sea of Galilee while a storm threatened to sink them – of course I was on a 14 story cruise boat and the ocean was as smooth as glass. Do you remember the disciples’ plea with Jesus? “Do you not care that we are perishing?” (Mark 4:38) They just wanted...
by Greg | Oct 25, 2009 | Blog Posts
This week I am learning, in painful spurts, all the ways I am electronically tethered. It all started with an innocent cell phone purchase back in 1994. Already the church where I was serving as pastor had presented me a pager – you know, in case of emergencies. I saw the phone as a better way to communicate. That same year we also “got connected” to the internet and the world wide web. To my knowledge no one in the small church I was serving had an email account at that time so I was reduced to corresponding to the Director of Mission, who was a wizened old man in his thirties. You can probably track the evolution of the electronic leash from here. Cell phones no longer come in bulky bags, one per household, but now have nearly replaced the old fashioned “land line” telephone and email accounts have spawned like a virus. The tethering continues with text messaging, social networking, smart phones, and lots and lots of battery rechargers. My routine is to start the day by plowing through all of the messages, contacts, funny stories, urgent replies and the like. This week I am on this boat – well, it is a ship actually. All of those ways of staying connected and tethered and leashed now come with a cost. There are pricey fees for everything from a simple phone call to a quick email (which, by the way, is exactly how I am sending this article, although I found a place with free internet connection. I had to hike twelve miles crossing a rain forest...
by Greg | Oct 20, 2009 | Blog Posts
Hopefully no one will hear that phrase next week. Next week I will be leading a Bible Study for over forty members of First Baptist Church of Augusta members on a cruise ship. Yes, I know that my job is a difficult one, but someone must sacrifice for the sake of the Kingdom. I have held Bible studies in foreign countries, up trees, on the sides of mountains and during retreats but never on a cruise ship. Here is something else: I have never been on a cruise before. One more thing… …I get motion sickness easy. Just the description of a rocking boat, or curvy roads along mountain passes, or the vicious circles of a Ferris wheel sends my digestive senses into a tail spin. That’s right, green around the gills, pass the barf bag, knee-walking motion sickness. I have read many remedies for motion sicknesses, but none seem to really help. The other day I was reading about how to prevent motion sicknesses when on a ship. First: do not stay in a room without a window. You will be relived to know our room has a view – a mechanical closet. The article went on to suggest that you need to spend time where you can see out, either through a porthole or on a deck with a view. Finally, keep your eyes on the far horizon and get your sense of balance by watching it rather than the closer, moving walls. Not bad advice when you think about it. That is what it means to be part of the resurrection. We look ahead to God’s...
by Greg | Oct 14, 2009 | Blog Posts
…That was what my friend Rob Nash said to me once many years ago. Rob is now the Global Missions Coordinator for the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship. His comment seems to betray much of what we good church going folks have been taught all of our lives. When you meet a neighbor, invite him to church…when a new student sits beside you in class, invite her to church…when you meet a couple at the local gym, invite them to church. Isn’t that the implied message we get from the pulpit to the pews? Go out and invite others to church. Rob remarked that you do not invite people to church. You invite them to Jesus. Of course inviting people to church is much easier. We can feed, entertain, enlighten and even enliven – all on one visit. Inviting people to Jesus, however, is inviting others into a relationship, which means commitment, discipline, sacrifice, relinquishing, and surrendering. To invite another to church, any church or our church, doesn’t really require much of us personally. To invite someone to Jesus is to share in a relationship. What kind of church do we want to be? Do we want to be a church of people where the journey ends at 3500 Walton Way or a people on a journey in relationships? It reminds me of another “pithy” saying that I have picked up along the way: Don’t go to church. Be the church. Be the church in word – all are welcome. Be the church in mission – the world is our parish. Be the church in love – every relationship has value....
by Greg | Oct 7, 2009 | Blog Posts
This week I have been trekking back home – not the one in Grovetown, but the one in Putnam County. Actually I have not made it so far as home, but to my home church of my childhood. Beside it is the cemetery where my grandparents are buried and where I will be too one day. Just beyond the modest porch of the church is a Georgia Historical sign indicating that this church – Philadelphia Methodist Church – is where Joel Chandler Harris worshipped 150 years ago when he was just a boy. I was honored to be invited to preach their revival this week. Each night fifty or so familiar faces gather in the small sanctuary to listen to the “boy” they have helped to raise. They are getting older but as I glance at my graying beard I am reminded that I am getting older too. I became a Baptist at sixteen when I joined the church in town, but the collection of small churches around our dairy farm will always be home to me. Over the years Amy and I have been pretty good at nesting for ourselves places to call home – even when we knew our stay would be temporary. Our first “home” was a tiny garage apartment in Rome, Georgia where I was finishing up my last year of college. Whenever our landlady would crank her ’72 Buick the roar of the motor would shake books off of our shelves. Our next home for three years was our seminary apartment. It was an efficiency unit which meant that you could place your hand...
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