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?

In most Holocaust literature and movies, Germans are portrayed almost as caricatures--all without conscience, all Jew-haters, all capable of great evil. But the people who carried out the policies of the true-believer ideologues at the top (Hitler, Himmler, and company) were ordinary people much like you and me caught up in unimaginable events.

This book humanizes the Germans of Reserve Police Battalion 101. You see men who refused to take part in mass executions, and who were excused from doing so. You see Germans leading small groups of Jews into the woods, where they made them lay on the ground, stuck the bayonet at a point on their neck, and then fired in unison. One German killing one Jew, and then they go for another batch. After a few rounds of this, you see soldiers approaching officers and saying, "I can't do this anymore," or even just wandering off. You also see reservists who enjoyed what they were asked to do, and you see civilians who wanted to know when the next roundup of Jews would occur, so they could come watch.

Interestingly, "No one could document a single case in which Germans who refused to carry out the killing of unarmed civilians suffered dire consequences." This was the conclusion of prosecutors in the 1960s, after two decades of trying Nazi war criminals. Ordinary Men focuses a lot on this. You see the peer pressure, the feeling among the solders that they had to "do their part" in the dirty work of executing Jews, and to leave it to your comrades was to let the unit down. But nobody was penalized; they were just given some kind of alternate duty not directly involved in killing. "The battalion had orders to kill Jews, but each individual did not....Since the battalion had to shoot even if individuals did not, refusing to shoot constituted refusing one's share of an unpleasant collective obligation."

Anyway, this was a fabulous book with new insights for me. It resonated with my perceptions of how people think and behave, and I can better understand how ordinary people can be caught up as collaborators in horrible atrocities.

Posted at 11:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

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.

Posted at 09:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

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.

You would think the family is a central theme of the Bible. But it's not. Why is that? Is it okay to ask that? Does God view the family differently than we do? Is our view of the family wrapped up in our culture? Why didn't God ever chastise those Old Testament heroes for having multiple wives? Did God care, or not? Don't worry--I'm not headed toward advocating polygamy or gay marriage. I'm just askin'. In sort of a quasi-heretical way.

When Jesus spoke about the family, it was usually about alienating family members and redefining the family as the total body of Christ ("For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother"). The New Testament writers give some basic instructions regarding family roles, parenting, and husband-wife relationships, but not as much attention as they give to church roles.

Why doesn't the Bible give us examples of good families? "What about Mary and Joseph?" you ask. But for all we know, Joseph, despite his superb start, could have become an alcoholic and committed suicide with a nail gun. We don't know.

Is there some heavenly paradigm that we're missing? And could that be the reason so many "good Christian families" go haywire? Are we doing family in a way which seems right to us, but isn't really what God had in mind? Am I going absolutely nuts?

Okay, I can tell that you're getting really really mad, so I'll stop. But...I'm just askin'.

Posted at 03:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

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.

Posted at 10:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

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.

Posted at 08:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

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.

Posted at 04:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

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."

Posted at 07:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

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."

Posted at 03:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

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.

We United Brethren, with half of our roots being in the Mennonite tradition and half in the German Reformed, like it both ways when it comes to military service: it's okay to fight, and it's okay to be a conscientious objector. Me? There are aspects of pacifism that I just can't reconcile (like: "How should we have responded to Pearl Harbor?" and other questions that Mennonites probably get tired of hearing). I'm fine with "just war" scenarios (yes to Afghanistan, no to Iraq, though I favored going there initially). I guess if I spent more time with Mennonites and heard their responses to my objections, understanding might occur. Heaven forbid.

I didn't realize the "diaspora" element of being a Mennonite. To avoid compulsory military service, their people have moved from country to country. One nation might exempt them from military service, but a century later, some new regime takes over that "knows not Joseph." And so, they have to either find a new country, or accept military service. That was very interesting to me.

These five churches are holding a joint Vacation Bible School for the second year. Last year it was at the Presbyterian church. This year the Mennonites will host it.

As we all ate together in their downstairs fellowship hall, it struck me that many people, particularly fundamentalists, would be highly suspect of what we're doing. That amidst ecumenicalism, compromise and watering-down inevitably happens. Even some of you readers are looking at this warily. Aren't you?

Posted at 11:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

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).

Posted at 10:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

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.

Posted at 12:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

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."

"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 think of church people I've heard, returning from a two-week trip to build a church in Honduras or Jamaica, talking as if they are now experts on that country and have the people thoroughly psycho-analyzed. Jolie avoids any such pretense throughout the book.

Here are some other excerpts.

• After noting that many of the children in one African refugee camp have scabies: "I would rather get infected than to ever think about pulling my hands away from these little children."
• "I can't imagine what a mother or father or even a husband or wife feels when the people they love most in the world are suffering, and there is nothing they can do. When a mother can't feed a child. When a father can't provide for his family. When a husband can't protect his wife."
• While starting her second trip, this one to Cambodia: "I am embarrassed to realize (and to admit) how much I was able to return to my life after Africa....It's easy to make phone calls and send letters and funds from the comfort and safety of your own home. Maybe I think I should feel guilty for my ability to come and go from these places when others have no choice. I know one thing. I know I appreciate everything more. I am so grateful for my life."
• In Cambodia: "We drive beside horse-drawn carts. The horses seem little and skinny. It makes me wonder if animal-rights activists would be upset--probably just sad. It's strange how sometimes it seems some people care more for their animals than the poor family next door."
• In Pakistan, commenting on women wearing full-body burkas. "No one can make eye contact with each other. Children cannot see their mother's expressions. No individuality--no self--and it is very hot. I bought one and tried it on. I felt like I was in a cage. They are horrible."
• In Pakistan: "Some people complain and say UNHCR should do more to help the refugees. This is hard for the staff to hear. These people simply don't understand the limited funds and cutbacks. As one staff member said, 'People can complain about us around the world, and governments can criticize our programs. But every day we continue to come face-to-face with hungry, sick people who feel it is up to us to help them."

The book also reminded me of the importance of the United Nations. In the US, right-wing pundits continually say the UN is worthless, that the US should get out. Yes, the UN is seriously flawed and idiotic things happen (just as idiotic things happen in the US Congress). But the UNHCR works in 120 countries, serving 20 million people who are invisible to the rest of the world, people who depend on the UN (including US dollars) for survival. Would God be pleased if America pulled out of the UN, and left so many dispossessed people without any advocates?

Anyway, it's quite a book. Angelina Jolie doesn't pretend to be a Christian, but the type of stuff she does, and her spirit amidst it, certainly shows the attitude a Christian should have. And then we just have to figure out the other side, the Hollywood marriage-busting vixen. People often have two sides, I guess, including us church-goers. I just know that I'd gladly hear her speak, but wouldn't walk across the street to hear Sean Penn or Michael Moore.

Posted at 10:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

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.

Posted at 10:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

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.

Posted at 09:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

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."

Posted at 09:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

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.

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."

Now, I'm not against changing churches. There are legitimate reasons. I've changed churches, and I'm not in favor of sticking with a church no matter what (too many wonderful saints are wasting away in dying churches, thinking they are doing something good for the Kingdom by keeping open the doors of a doomed church). But you know the type of person I'm talking about. People who won't sink roots into a local body of believers, and as a result, their spiritual roots never go far beneath the surface. Because maturity in Christ demands, I'm convinced, the involvement and fellowship and opportunities for ministry that a healthy local church provides.

A lot of post-modern/emergent writing paints idealistic visions of the church, and I fear it makes our younger generations dissatisfied with just about any church they come across. No church fits the "biblical" model and ideals that they read about. Some, as a consequence, stop attending church altogether, while others go on a perpetual shopping spree. This is why I consider some post-modern writers, like Brian McClaren (as good-hearted as can be), just a bit dangerous. They make readers discontent with church in general, and dissatisfied with any church they come across.

Hey, it doesn't take a great intellect to find fault with the "established" church (Anchor being one such church). Give me a few minutes, and I can write out a few dozen ways in which we fall short of what God wants us to be. I don't need any special wisdom or insight or powers of perception to find fault. It's easy pickins.

But the church is the vehicle God designed to carry on his work, and I don't think he's satisfied unless I'm fully engaged with and committed to a local congregation. I simply can't live my Christian life any other way.

Posted at 09:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

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.

We talked. Don asked what my Dad did. I told him he was a pastor. "That's a great racket," he said sarcastically, trying to tick me off. Throughout that visit, Don tried to tick me off. But I just joked with him, and eventually, he was smiling as part of our banter. It was some of the best relationship-building I've ever done.

I was intentionally trying to be a witness. At the time I was involved with Evangelism Explosion, so I knew what I was doing. Eventually, I hoped to lay out the gospel message for him and give him a chance to respond. But first, some cultivating was needed. So he became my "project." Today's postmodern and emergent writers mock the idea of making someone an evangelistic project. Well, jolly good for them.

I returned another time. Don welcomed me in, but our conversation went pretty much as before. Don was a retired railroad engineer, divorced, alone, very bitter, and not in good health. He was mad about everything. He was also very smart. Not senile. Just a grumpy old man who made a formidable sparring partner. And I think he came to like me. Appreciate me, even.

Then he moved. One day his apartment was empty, and it made me frantic. I hadn't gotten very far, hadn't presented the gospel to him. I had been nice, but hadn't told him why I was nice; for all he knew, I could be a Mormon. But somehow--I don't remember how--I learned where he had moved, the upstairs of a house about a mile away.

One night I went to visit him. He was surprised to see me, but invited me right in, and we talked for a while. I probably witnessed in some simple way, but was mostly still cultivating. I was just an immature jerk a couple of years removed from college, 23 years old, yet my interaction with Don was tempered and wise, far beyond my years. Don't know what got into me.

Life zips along way too fast. I didn't go back for a long time. I thought about doing so, but I didn't. Soon. I told myself. And then one day, I saw Don's obituary in the newspaper. I cut it out and placed it on the credenza in my office. It was a reminder of my failure. A reminder that I hadn't done enough. That because I didn't go back, because I never presented the gospel, Don was in hell. I genuinely felt this way.

I kept that newspaper clipping in my office for probably 15 years. It always made me feel guilty. We evangelicals are taught to feel guilty--that we're unworthy, we never do quite enough, we fall short, there's always more we can do. But at some point I tossed the clipping, having evidently concluded that the statute of eternal limitations had expired.

At the Church Media conference Pam and I attended last June, one speaker, Paul Clifford, told about doing man-on-the-street interviews with people in his city to craft a video to use in a message. One fellow they approached was a Wiccan. They struck up a conversation, and the guy gave some comments on film.

Paul said, "We didn't do anything. All we did was be nice to him." But the result of being nice was that this young man began giving Christianity a second look, and on his own, he accepted Christ into his life. Then he led his brother to the Lord. And then both of them were killed in a car crash. Two souls now in heaven, all because they were nice.

I was nice to Don Brown. I regrettably didn't get any further than being nice. But maybe nice was enough. Maybe Don gave Christianity a second look. Maybe I made some huge influence that I never saw. I definitely felt led by God to visit Don. I was obedient. That's a good thing.

I've always viewed that as a failure. But now I'm thinking that's hogwash. I should view it as a success. The Holy Spirit prompted me to do something, and I did it. I tried to befriend a guy the rest of the world couldn't stand to be around. God knew how the story would end. He valued my role, but wasn't limited by it. And maybe, just maybe, Don's waiting up there in heaven for me. Wouldn't that be something.

Now I'd like to get that clipping back. But this time, I would hang it on the wall as a success story. As something I did right. Lord knows I need more of those.

Posted at 08:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

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.

Posted at 04:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

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.

Here are four items I've come across recently. Nothing spectacular about any of them, alone, but when put together, along with dozens of other stories...well, historians are going to have a hey-dey.

• It's well-known now that disbanding the Iraqi military was a huge error which contributed heavily to the insurgency and civil war. I read this week that we also shut down all state-run industries, thereby putting tens of thousands more people out of work. Since these included fertilizer factories, farmers were affected and food production declined. Such was the arrogance of ideologues intent on turning Iraq into a free-market economy.
• Anti-American radicals throughout the Middle East were upset when Bin Laden attacked America. Their greatest asset was Afghanistan--a country which welcomed their presence and provided a base for training. But after 9/11, nobody--including the Death to America Islamists--could blame America for invading Afghanistan. We destroyed an almost irreplaceable asset, this terrorist haven, and Al Qaeda was practically obliterated. Until we invaded Iraq. The Death to America crowd thanks Bush for invading Iraq, because in so doing, we revived a terrorist movement which had almost been vanquished. Up from the ashes of Afghanistan was born a whole new generation of anti-American terrorists. Good job, George.
• Meanwhile, in Russia, Vladimir Putin has killed nearly all of the press freedoms which emerged from the reforms of Gorbachev and Yeltsin, and now is actively assassinating opponents and critics (13 journalists have been assassinated). The Russian parliament even passed a law permitting the assassination of Russians living abroad who were speaking out against the Russian government. But the US has no moral authority here. Not when we abduct people from one country and spirit them away to another country to be tortured--not because there's a ticking bomb and they know the location, but because we think they know something that might, possibly, be of some value to us. Not when we give the bird to the Geneva Conventions. Not when we flagrantly disregard basic legal and privacy rights. Not when we create prisons and torture centers in other countries to get around our own laws. No, thanks to George Bush, America has no claim to moral authority. We have no business lecturing Russia, or China, or anyone else. And that is a huge, huge tragedy.
• Iran, it turns out, was actually helping us a lot in Afghanistan and in other ways in the immediate aftermath of 9/11. Many moderates and reformers in Iran wanted to normalize relations with the US. Iran even agreed to pay $500 million to help rebuild Afghanistan. But one week after that agreement, George Bush included them in his "Axis of Evil" speech. Iran's hard-liners pronounced, "See! We told you that Iran and the US can't be friends!" The moderates and reformers shrunk into the background, and the hard-liners took control. And now, Iran is a formidable, resolute enemy of the United States. An enemy that George Bush created.

Okay, Rick, I got this out of my system for a while.

Posted at 12:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

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.

Multimedia. Multimedia, to me, greatly enhances worship and the communication process. Hurray for technology, and God bless PowerPoint. Ministers, no longer mere talking heads, creatively augment their messages with movie clips, props, metaphors, Powerpoint slides, etc. Technology is expensive, and some ministers feel crippled without their techie tools. But overall: hugely positive change.

Pastoral prayer. How I dreaded, as a kid, standing for 15 minutes while the pastor droned on with his high-priestly prayer. But this practice seems to have bitten the dust. Overall: excellent change.

Music leadership. It was 1991 before I attended a church which used drums and guitars. I would have loved drums even in the 1960s, but alas, we couldn't get beyond the organ-piano combo. I enjoy involving more laypersons in the music, and being able to do new songs rather than be chained to what's in the hymnal. Overall: an absolutely wonderful change.

Congregational singing. Lots of deadbeats sit in today's pews, not singing. Just standing there with stone faces. What's the problem here? Plus, since nobody actually looks at music (as in a hymnal), nobody sings parts. I miss that. Overall: bad change.

Songs. A lot of great music is being written. Unfortunately, it all says the same thing: God is great, wonderful, awesome, merciful, faithful, loving, etc., etc., etc. And he's all of these things to me me me me. Lots of touch-feely lyrics, all between the singer and God. Looking for new congregational songs about evangelism, conquering sin, the church, missions, the second coming, Christmas, prayer? Sorry, you're out of luck unless you track down a hymnal. Overall: bad change.

Attire. In early days, I always dressed up for church. Now, people go casual. Lots of people deem that a bad thing, a lowering of standards, a lessening of respect for God. I see it as removing a barrier for unchurched folks. Clothes shouldn't be a barrier. Overall: great change.

That pretty much covers it. Did I miss anything significant? Looks like I think things are better than in my youth. So, no more harking for me.

Posted at 11:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

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.

Posted at 09:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)