God is good all the time. All the time God is good.

This “call and response” Affirmation of Faith is often used in the African-American church tradition. The leader proclaims: God is good;  and the congregation responds: All the time. Then the leader echoes: All the time; and the congregation answers: God is good.

On our BEST days, we believe this. On our WORST days, we doubt it. Most of life is lived somewhere between the two extremes. Like most Affirmations of Faith, we profess it on the good days so that we can claim it on the bad days. And there are days when we are like the man who said to Jesus: Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.

We are first called to profess that God is good in the GOOD times; and this is the easiest part of the affirmation. There are grace-filled moments in life when we recognize just how blessed we truly are.

The sun is shining. Our health is good. The family is well. Work and school are prospering. Life is GOOD. It feels like we are living life in the midst of a doxology, praising God from whom all blessings flow.

However, it is challenging to affirm that God is good in the bad times, too. In his letter to the Philippians, Paul did not write: Rejoice in the Lord in the good things, and again I will say, rejoice.  Instead, he wrote: Rejoice in the Lord always.  For the hard of hearing, he repeats: Again I say: Rejoice!

Let me honestly say to you that there have been times in my life and ministry when thanksgiving seemed entirely inappropriate. Sometimes thanksgiving and praise seem like ill-mannered guests who burst into the midst of our sorrow and pain.

What right does a hymn of praise have to intrude upon our grief? What part does worship play when our world is falling apart? How does our faith support us during an economic crisis with job loss and an uncertain future?

However, remember that Paul was not sitting in a heated office behind an oak desk dictating to a secretary when he wrote this letter to the Philippians. The disquieting truth is that the apostle was in a Roman prison awaiting trial when he penned this epistle.

During his ministry, the man had been insulted, scourged, beaten, shipwrecked, stoned, and imprisoned for preaching the gospel. Ultimately, Paul would die as a martyr, beheaded by the Romans for proclaiming Christ.

Rejoice in the good times . . . and yes, Paul says, rejoice in the bad times, too. Rejoice in the Lord, ALWAYS. So we affirm our faith by declaring:

God is good—all the time. All the time—God is good.

New Year’s creates the illusion of fresh starts and new beginnings. Like a lawn covered with freshly fallen snow, 2017 stretches before us without footprint or trail. We can choose anew the direction of our lives and the pathways for our feet.

On New Year’s Day, change seems possible as we resolve to make this year different from the last. So we make ambitious New Year’s resolutions about diets, exercise, habits, church, money, vocation, and more.

Resolutions born at midnight on December 31st, however, seldom survive the first few weeks of reality. Habit is a hard master to overthrow. Even if a rut is a grave with two ends missing, it is still OUR rut, comfortable and cozy.

By mid-January, the new and improved versions of our lives will greatly resemble the old and not so improved models.

After 33 years as a pastor, I have learned two polar opposite truths about fallen human beings:

• People don’t change.
• People can change!

The third chapter of John’s gospel describes how Nicodemus, a Pharisee and member of the Jewish ruling council, visited Jesus at night. Christ told the religious leader: I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.

Jesus revealed two vital truths in this passage. First, we MUST be born again. Second, we CAN be born again.

In Christ’s life, death, and resurrection, God has formed a new covenant/relationship with humanity. God so loved the world that he gave his only Son—and if God gave his only Son, will he not also give us all other things besides?

People tend not to change on their own, but God can radically transform people! Paul wrote: Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone and the new has come!  (2 Cor. 5:17)

We serve a God of fresh starts, second chances, and new beginnings. Today can be different from yesterday; and tomorrow can be different from today. This year can truly be new in more than name alone.

During high school, I worked at the Richway Department Store in Roswell, Georgia. For newer generations unfamiliar with the now defunct store, the chain began life as a discount cousin of Rich’s. Imagine a hybrid combining Wal-Mart and Target. Various departments offered hardware, clothing, jewelry, linens, stationary, automotives, electronics, toys, sporting goods, and almost anything else imaginable.

My first job at Richway began before the store opened. I swept floors, crushed boxes, and cleaned debris under the supervision of my 18 year old supervisor named Dave. After the store opened, I worked briefly as a bag boy before transferring to Small Electrics, Stereos and TVs, and Records. (For younger readers under 40, ask your parents what a “record” was.)

When I left for college, my supervisor promised a job would be waiting when I returned. Sure enough, I found myself with gainful employment the Friday after Thanksgiving. I spent the next six weeks of eternity in RETAIL HELL.

EVERYONE ought to work retail during the holidays at least once. The experience provides an education like no other. Retail workers divide the world into two categories: humans and customers. Doctors Jekyll become Misters Hyde when entering a department store. Even a mild-mannered milquetoast can make Attila the Hun look tame after standing in a lengthy line.

During the holidays, we become more of who we are.

The best and worst in people becomes magnified by the hustle and bustle of the holiday season. The same persons who drop $20 in a red Salvation Army kettle will cuss out a minimum wage clerk at the cash register. After wishing complete strangers Merry Christmas at the mall, maddened motorists practice road rage on the highways.

One incident in particular stands out in my memory. On a short-handed Saturday, I was covering three departments while my coworker took a hurried lunch break.

Store policy dictated that customers carry general purchases to the front registers where the lines stretched back to the North Pole. After sharing this information with one pushy customer, he demanded that I ring up his twenty items. While a dozen people clamored for my attention, I completed Ebenezer Scrooge’s transaction.

In hindsight, I suppose I DID place his purchases into the shopping bag with a bit more force than minimally necessary. Okay, so maybe I threw his items into the bag while snarling like a wounded wolf. He objected to my actions and attitude, threatening to file a report with the management. I diplomatically asked him what could they possibly do—make me deal with more morons like him?

Granted, the scene would never make the highlights’ reel for Christian evangelism. An hour later my supervisor pulled me aside to ask what happened. I gave him an unvarnished account of the incident and waited to be fired. Instead, my normally stern supervisor smiled, patted me on the back, and said, “Son, that’s retail!”

Thus God confirmed my call to the ministry.

During the holiday season, we will hear a lot about peace on earth and good will towards all. These are nice sentiments and worthy goals. However, allow me to suggest a more modest start: Be nice to everyone you meet in retail.

I guarantee you that they’re already having a bad day.

The kingdom of God is like unto a man decorating his home for Christmas. The man—being a man—required close supervision for any endeavor combining the words “decorating” and “home.” Fortunately, the queen of the manor took great delight in such matters. She gladly volunteered to oversee his efforts.

Numerous pilgrimages were made to far off lands named Attic and Closet. He returned with boxes of Christmas past, trailing the exotic aromas of evergreen, cardboard, and dust. Stockings were hung by the chimney with care. Ceramic Santas shared the mantle with a nativity scene. Artificial wreaths with fresh bows garlanded the doors and windows.

Finally, a coffin-sized box came thumpity, thump, thumping down the stairs. It contained the dismembered limbs of a fake fir. Working from the bottom up, the man painstakingly inserted each branch into its proper place. Soon an artificial, eight feet tall Christmas tree graced the room.

While his better-half organized ornaments, the man attacked a mare’s nest of tangled lights. A series of exclamations not in keeping with the holiday season soon followed! He angrily slammed the lights on the floor, and several shattered into glass shrapnel. Grabbing car keys and wallet, he journeyed to a distant emporium and purchased ten new strings with one hundred lights each.

The man wrapped the one thousand light bulbs around the fir’s branches. Extension cords stretched to every available outlet. When he finally finished, the entire family gathered for the lighting of the great tree. “Oohs” and “ahhs” greeted the glorious advent.

The husband/father settled into an easy chair with a double shot of eggnog. His wife banished the children and spent three hours placing the ornaments just so on each limb. Then they all stood arm-in-arm surveying the golden glow of the Christmas tree.

That’s when he saw IT. One string at the tip-top of the tree remained stubbornly dark. One hundred lights were not burning! The man frantically checked and rechecked plugs and fuses. He finally had to admit the obvious: one bulb must be burnt out. His spouse chose this moment to ask if he had checked the lights before putting them on the tree. Seeing the look in his eye, she quickly retreated from the room.

Light by light, the man wearily checked each bulb. One, two, three . . . . Midnight came and went, but he remained faithful to his task. Ninety-eight, ninety-nine . . . . Of course it was the final bulb that proved to be the problem.

But, oh, what a wondrous sight when the string finally came to life! All the hard labor and heartbreak were forgotten. He stood basking in the warm, Christmas light. Then he awoke his wife and children and cried out, “Rejoice with me; I have found my burnt out light!” The family celebrated with a bottle of eggnog and a plate of Christmas cookies.

I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents of the darkness than over ninety-nine righteous persons who already live in the light. (Luke 15:1-7)

When I was a senior at Berry College, I needed one more PE credit to graduate. I decided to take horseback riding. I had never ridden a REAL horse before, but I had watched a lot of western movies! So I figured it would be an easy “A.”

During our first class at the stables, I confessed to the instructor that I was a bit nervous due to my inexperience. She smiled with understanding and said, “Don’t worry, we have all sorts of horses. For experienced riders, we have experienced horses. For average riders, we have average horses. For people who have never ridden horses before, we have horses that have never been ridden!”

She found this much more amusing than I did. Then she assigned me to a horse that was over ten feet tall and weighed a gazillion pounds. It’s possible I mis-remember, but I think his name was Bone Crusher!

Over the next weeks, I learned to ride the monster. Maybe it’s a more accurate description to say the horse allowed me to sit on top of it; but I did manage to stay in the saddle at a gentle trot.

However, I never lost the wonder of controlling such a tremendous animal with a pair of reigns and a small bit in its mouth. Just a small amount of pressure directed the horse to go whatever direction I chose.

The New Testament book of James compares control of the tongue to a bit in a horse’s mouth:

When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal. Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go. Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body but it makes great boasts. (James 3:3-5)

The tongue is very powerful. It holds within it the possibility of great good and terrible evil. Those who harness its power can accomplish great things. Unfortunately, few of us are skilled in controlling the tongue. Even the holiest of people regularly suffer from slips of the lips.

Our language both reflects and affects who we are as Christians. Changes in the way we speak can transform our lives. However, the task is a lifelong challenge. Begin taming the tongue with silence, listening, and thoughtful speech.

We are called to make the Psalmist’s prayer (Psalm 141:3) our own:

Set a guard over my mouth, O Lord, keep watch over the door of my lips.

What’s the magic word?

The context determines the correct response. Magicians pulling rabbits out of hats will say Abracadabra! In the story of “Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves,” Open sesame unlocks the door to the treasure cave. Cinderella’s fairy godmothers use the mysterious incantation: Bippity, boppity, boo!

Other magic words sound much more common but possess much more power, including the simple words Please and Thank you. God’s children learn to use them early and often.

Boys and girls of all ages know the magical properties of the word “Please.” The simple syllable can open doors and unlock hearts. The word typically introduces a request. “Plea” forms the root word of “please.” We use it to plead for something that we want or need and do not possess.

Children intuitively understand the basic “given-ness” to life. Anything children possess has been given to them by someone else. This serves as a parable for the entirety of life. All that we have is from God’s gracious hands.  Life, abundant life, and eternal life are gifts from above.

After receiving a gift, the other magic words we use are “Thank you.” “Please” realizes that all of life is a gift. “Thank you” acknowledges that all of life is a response. We recognize God as the Giver. Then we thank God with our words, actions, and attitudes.

We are called to live with an attitude of gratitude. In Philippians, Paul wrote: Rejoice in the Lord, always, again I will say, rejoice! During this holiday season and every season of life, we are called to be a thanksgiving people.

Gratitude is such an essential discipline of the spirit; and ingratitude is such a toxic waste of the soul. Thanksgiving is the cure for ingratitude.

Simply saying “thank you” is good medicine for the soul. There is a deep spiritual need within us that is only satisfied by expressing our thanksgiving to God; and in turn, the Holy Spirit delights in our praise.

What are the magic words? They are “Please” and “Thank you.” Children of God learn to use them early and often. In the process, we discover that thanks living leads to thanksgiving. We receive and then give. We give and then receive. We live our lives in an offering of thanksgiving to God.

Happy Thanksgiving!

On January 15, 2009, US Airways Flight 1549 took off from LaGuardia Airport in New York City bound for Charlotte, North Carolina. Two minutes into the flight a flock of birds disabled the plane’s engines. The Airbus 320 immediately lost thrust in both jets.

Captain Chesley Sullenberger contacted the tower and declared an emergency. When advised to return to base, the pilot replied with a terse “Unable.” Sullenberger briefly considered diverting to Teterboro Airport in New Jersey. However, the plane’s steep glide slope negated that option.

Faced with a possible crash over the heavily populated metro area, the captain chose a third alternative. In a calm voice, he informed the flight traffic controller, “We’ll be in the Hudson.”

“Sully” turned south and descended towards the Hudson River. Juggling altitude, speed, and angle of descent, the pilot approached the water. He kept the wings level and the nose slightly up. Sullenberger executed a perfect landing.

The flight crew engaged a “ditch switch” that closed the plane’s vents, allowing it to remain afloat. Miraculously, all 155 persons aboard survived.

Voice transcripts, photographs, and video provided a dramatic retelling of the crisis. The media praised the flight crew’s actions, and the American public declared them heroes. Chesley Sullenberger became a household name. This year Tom Hanks starred in a movie recounting the event simply named Scully.

Sullenberger appeared genuinely bemused by the fame and acclaim. The pilot repeatedly protested that he was no hero—he simply did his job.

During an interview, Katie Couric asked, “Did you, at any point, pray?”

Sullenberger replied, “I would imagine somebody in the back was taking care of that for me while I was flying the plane!”

The dramatic events surrounding Flight 1549 spotlighted an ordinary man doing an extraordinary job. On any other flight, even the passengers might not have noted the pilot’s skill. On January 15^th, everyone noticed.

Every day people engage in the unmarked heroics of doing a job well. A mother corrects homework, a father coaches a team, a teacher instructs a classroom, a nurse tends a patient, an accountant prepares a return, a mechanic tunes an engine, a cook flips a burger, or a student studies a book. No one will notice, but their ambition to do a job well makes the world a better place.

In Romans 12:6-8, the apostle Paul wrote:

We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If a man’s gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully.

The media will not recognize such mundane efforts, but what we do each day is important. Therefore, it is worth doing well.

On January 15, 2009, Captain Sullenberger excelled in his job of flying the plane. In the back, someone else no doubt prayed  during the entire descent.

I say both were heroes.

Tuesday, November 8, 2016.

Election Day in the United States of America.

Today we will elect the 45^th President of the United States.

As we prayerfully await the results, consider a lesson from history.

In the 1830s, French author, Alexis de Tocqueville, toured the United States and later reflected about his experience. He wrote:

I have toured America, and I have seen most of what you offer. I’ve seen the richness of the fields and the wealth of your mines. I’ve seen your industrial might, the beauties of the rivers, the streams, the lakes, and the grandeur of the mountains. I’ve noticed the abundance of the forests and the marvelous climate with which you are blessed.

In none of these things did I see the cause for the greatness of America.

It wasn’t until I went into your churches that I saw the reason for America’s greatness. America is great because America is good; and as long as America is good, America will be great. If it ever ceases to be good, it will cease to be great.

Today pray for our nation.

May God bless America, land that we love.

I regularly shop at one of the members-only-stores in Gwinnett County. The maze of aisles contains items I never knew that I absolutely had to have. Everyone needs a 20 pound bag of white rice and a 12 count case of cough medicine in the pantry.

In case of an ice storm or zombie uprising, gather at my house. We’re stocked for any apocalypse.

The club store posts a clerk at the exit to crosscheck the buggy’s contents against the receipt’s items. I worked retail during high school and college, so I understand the need for inventory control. Yet and still, I always feel vaguely guilty about some indeterminate trespass during the process.

For incomprehensible reasons, the store’s supervisors often assign M to guard the door. He may rank as one of the most inhospitable store clerks I’ve ever encountered. I would say he’s the Eeyore of the retail world, but it would be a disservice to the rainy-day grey donkey of the Hundred Acre Wood.

M always wears a frown. I’ve heard him speak in monosyllables, but most of our encounters occur in silence. He tugs the receipt out of my hand, carefully counts the buggy’s items, and then dismissively waves me out the door.

Love me, hate me, but don’t ignore me.

On several occasions after completing the checkout process, I have stepped into his personal space, stared deep into his eyes, sweetly smiled, and said: “You have a REALLY nice day.” Then I hold position until he reluctantly grunts a reply.

I always shake my head in amazement at the store’s incompetent use of their human resources. Greeters by definition ought to GREET people. Put someone with the gift of gab at the door. Assign M somewhere in the back where he never sees another living being.

After each encounter, I also find myself wondering how well the church handles hospitality with our customers. It takes courage to visit a new church for the first time. Longtime members forget how uncomfortable the experience can be. Thankfully, it only takes a few people practicing radical hospitality to make a guest feel right at home.

Granted, the Holy Spirit graces some people with the spiritual gift of hospitality. However, we can all act hospitably to others. Greet strangers rather than friends. Join someone at a table sitting alone. Instead of giving directions, walk with someone to their destination. Take the initiative to exchange introductions. Brag to visitors about the articulate and handsome senior pastor.

I go back to the box store each week because the great deals outweigh M’s lack of hospitality. However, everyone won’t give the church a second chance. The good news is it only takes one congregation member to make a positive difference in a guest’s life.

Be the one.

A “portmanteau” creates a new term by combining two existing words along with their definitions. For example, “smog” blends “smoke” and “fog” to describe polluted air. “Motel” slurs “motor” and “hotel” to indicate a roadside inn.

Other portmanteaus include brunch (breakfast and lunch), Pictionary (picture and dictionary), chortle (chuckle and snort), Chunnel (channel and tunnel), travelogue (travel and monologue), and imagineer (imagine and engineer.)

Lewis Carroll coined the term in his classic book entitled Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There. Today we better know the fantastical tale as Alice in Wonderland. In the nonsensical poem, Jabberwocky, Carroll created a number of strange new phrases.

In a bizarre linguistic twist, the word “portmanteau” is itself a portmanteau! The Gallic word combines “porter” (to carry) with “manteau” (cloak). The French term describes a large leather suitcase that opens into two hinged compartments. In a similar fashion, portmanteaus “hinge” two words together into a single entity.

Anyone can play the word creation game. Find two words and combine them together for a new meaning. Here’s my list of some portmanteau possibilities.

Methoptist

This common creature can be found primarily in the southern United States; however, sightings have occurred across North America. In our inclusive society, Methodists and Baptists sometimes intermarry. The resulting offspring are called “Methoptists”. Theological doctrine and ecclesiastical dogma are all forgotten when a Southern Baptist belle bats her eyes at a United Methodist beau. Almost every family in our region contains a Methodist and Baptist in its family tree.

Republicrat

The last presidential election featured technicolor maps dividing the country into blue and red states. However, many Americans vote for the individual and not the party. Issues, integrity, and character prove more important than party designations. “Republicrats” often vote for both Republicans and Democrats during the same election. They seek to elect the best candidate regardless of title.

Telebage

Although my children do not believe me, I recall a day when our family television could only pick up three local stations with its rabbit ears antenna. Today cable and satellite TV offer hundreds of channels. Although my wrist aches from channel-surfing-carpal-tunnel-syndrome, I still find myself saying, “There’s nothing on TV tonight.” The garbage that passes for prime time TV is “telebage.”

Blogtigue

Writing a weekly blog can tax one’s imagination and creativity. Writer’s
block leads to blog fatigue.

Join the game! Create your own portmanteau and share it by hitting “Reply.”