Influence 106

People who were fortunate enough to sit at the feet of good teachers as they worked their way through school will often tell you that those teachers were both influential and memorable. I know it's true of my school years. Some teachers were memorable... some were inspirational and influential... some were both. I've already talked about my Kindergarten teacher, Mrs Lincoln, and my fourth grade teacher, Mrs Schneider. I think the next few posts I'll talk about a few other teachers.

In fifth grade the district changed the attendance lines, and the kids in our neighborhood switched from Larsen to Bard school. I think they were about the same distance away from home, but because we didn't have to cross a really major road, we could choose to walk to Bard instead of riding the bus. We usually rode the bus to school, but often walked home in the afternoon... especially if the weather was nice. However, about half way through the year something happened that often influenced my decision from day to day.

I had started band in 4th grade... choosing the trumpet. Actually, as I remember, my mom liked the idea of the trumpet because she really liked the playing of Louis Armstrong. Anyway, when they "tested" us, they told us I'd do fine on the trumpet, and I never regretted it... always felt sorry for those "reed lickers" in the early days because I figured I would squeak my clarinet or sax just as bad as they usually did. That was not a problem with brass instruments.

I was a fair trumpet player as a 2nd year in 5th grade, but there was no danger of me being first chair... just didn't seem to have the "chops" for the trumpet. The district band folks decided they needed a few low brass players, so they asked the trumpet players who might like to play the baritone. I volunteered, got the assignment of a school horn, and started practicing... at home. Now, especially as a 5th grader, a baritone is a pretty big load to carry a couple of miles, so on days I took the horn home, I chose the bus. I remember one day we had a substitute driver who wouldn't allow me to bring that big horn on the bus because it wouldn't fit in the seat... I had to walk that day. Man, were my arms tired!!

I always figure I'd have been a pretty average trumpet player, even if I worked at it, but I took to the baritone easily. My mouth seemed to be more suited to the larger mouth piece, and I loved the mellow tone. I got to play in an all-district orchestra in 5th and 6th grades. (I know, I know, baritone is not an orchestral instrument, but they were short on low brass, so I played trombone music.) I had good success in Jr High Band, and that carried on into high school, resulting in first chair for a couple of years, all district, lots of fun, and even being selected band president my senior year. OK... yes, I was a full fledged band geek... but it was lots of fun, and I learned a lot of music.

Sooo... I want to thank my elementary band teacher for giving me a shot on the baritone. I don't remember his name, but I've always been grateful for the opportunity.

As a foot note, I married a "reed licker" (Virginia played the alto clarinet), and that worked out just fine. :-) However, I must point out that both our kids chose the brass root, Jennifer playing the French horn and Jeremy the trombone. I guess I should check with my old biology teacher to see how that compares to breeding pea plants. Good night!

Influence 105

When I think about people who influenced me growing up, different people come to mind at different times, depending on what I'm thinking about or what has happened on a given day or maybe how I'm feeling.

Tonight as I sat own to write this I got to thinking about coming into the youth group as a 7th grader and who was influential during that time of transition. Really, three people came to mind, and they were all three older kids. Back in those days churches generally didn't have youth ministers, so our youth group was led by some parents... but mostly by older kids in the group. As the older leaders graduated and went on to work or college, the younger ones (who had been mentored by the older ones) stepped into to fill their leadership roles. Well, anyway the three names that came to mind were Calvin, Diane, and Jim. Since I later married into the Bean family, Diane and Jim became my in-laws. In 1962-63 they (and Calvin) were becoming friends... friends I could look up to... friends who influenced me.

Diane was sort of the girl leader in the group, but the think I remembered most about Diane is she taught me to sing tenor. I actually think that didn't happen until a year or two later, but I'll always be grateful for that.

Calvin Henry was the main leader in my early years, and he mentored Jim and me and others along the way. And... was he ever fast... maybe the best touch football player in the city. :-)

I like to think back to those years... simple youth devos... playing softball or touch football or miniature golf... singing at the Beans' house. God used all of that and each of them to help shape me as I grew. Thank you!

Dedicating Children

Today was our annual Child Dedication Sunday, a time we set aside for parents (and grandparents) to publicly commit to raising their kids in the Lord. It's a special time each year, and this year was no exception. Five of our families chose to participate this year. Two of the families have roots that go pretty deep with this church; one family are long-time guests who are becoming part of us; one family are fairly new to us and placed membership recently; one is a mother and son who have been with us in recent months.

It was a good morning all around. We looked at some of the qualities children bring that remind us we all need these qualities, and we talked about the characteristics our children need to see us living in front of them day to day. Our parents committed... we as a church family affirmed and pledged... shepherds blessed and prayed... just a good way to spend time together. Sundays like today bring added meaning to the phrase, family of faith.

We're getting rain here, and lots of snow in the mountains... snow a low as 2000 feet in the Sierras with as much as 2 more feet coming down over the next day or so. As troublesome as that can sometimes be, I'm really feeling for those folks experiencing blizzard conditions in the Midwest and those recovering from tornado damage in Arkansas. God bless!

Sacramento

Virginia has one of her Crime Analyst Certification classes this weekend at Sacramento State. She got up early Friday and left around 5:00, getting there in plenty of time to hit Starbucks before time for class.

I left the office a little after 2:00 and headed to Sac as well, driving along the River Road much of the way... more scenic... less traffic. I got there before VJ got out of class, so I hung out at Starbucks until she called me. We met at the Larkspur Landing, the hotel where the APD put her up. It's designed to be one of those extended stay places for business folks... very nicely furnished, kitchen, good work space, internet connection, etc. After we checked in, I got in a nice run along the river while she did her homework... give me a run instead of homework any day of the week.

We ate at Chevy's last night... good Mexican food... and watched a movie in the room. Today she was at class again, and I worked on my sermon for tomorrow and got in a good workout. We met for lunch at a salad place, and after her class finished for the day we grabbed a bite of supper before I kissed her goodbye and headed home. I think she'll finish up around noon tomorrow and then point her Honda this way as well. The main thing she doesn't like about these weekend classes is that she has to miss church. Oh well, only one more this spring (I think), and then she'll finish up next fall.

Tomorrow is our annual Child Dedication service where we give parents the opportunity to commit to raising their children in the Lord and we, as their church family, commit to helping them. It's always such an uplifting time together. I'll try to write a little about it tomorrow. Right now, it's time to wind down and start heading toward bed.

Influence 104

One of the best things about moving to Oxnard in 1959 was the church. People who became life-long friends, in-laws, and my wife were all part of that church at 1815 San Marino Street. So, in a very real way, that local expression of the Body of Christ had perhaps more influence in shaping me than anyone else, except my folks. It wasn't a perfect church... I guess none is... but it was made up of people who loved me and nurtured me and became special to me in a variety of ways.

About a year or so after we moved to Oxnard we got a new minister, a man named Marshall Brookey. His oldest son, Dennis, was a couple of years younger than me, and Marshall decided to start a Saturday morning class for boys when I was in 5th and 6th grades. There were probably about 6 or 8 of us who were pretty regular participants in this class (sometimes more), and Marshall taught us Bible, how to give devotional talks, how to lead singing, how to read and pray in a public setting. We practiced and even took tests. It was fun, but what really make the class worth it was the touch football we played after we studied. Brother Brookey (as we always called him) helped us choose up sides, and he always played with us. It was a blast, and it was also my best early experience with an adult who was both really serious about being a Christian and also really into having fun. That was important to learn at an early age.

A year or two later I also was allowed to witness how Brother Brookey handled tragedy. Dennis developed liver cancer and died within six months. It was tough on the family but I always had the sense that Marshall trusted God throughout. He and his family soon moved back to a church in the valley... I think it just became too painful to stay in Oxnard.

In 1971 Virginia and I asked Marshall to come back and perform our wedding. It was important to both of us and felt special as we began our life together. We saw him a couple of years ago at the funeral of a mutual friend in Fresno. Years have gone by, but he's still the man I learned to respect... the one with the tight spiral those Saturday mornings so many years ago.

Influence 103

We stayed in Santa Paula and I attended East School through third grade, walking to school most of the time, as was common in those more innocent days. School, for the most part, was pretty good in those years, and I spent a lot of time playing with other kids on Stanford Street... the Pitts brothers across the street and a girl my age who lived down the street whose name I can't remember right now.

The summer of 1959 we moved to a new house in south Oxnard located in a tract of homes that had been a lemon orchard just a year before. Hueneme High School was around the corner to the south, and E.O. Green Jr High was built a year or so later just to the north of us. However, that first year I rode the school bus for the first time and attended Ansgar Larsen School, a K-6 school not too far from our house, but across a major road... hence the bus.

My 4th grade teacher was Mrs Schneider, and she's the lady who really introduced me to music. We sang in her class everyday... and we sang a lot. I still remember some verses to some of the songs we sang. She taught all us boys that it was OK... expected actually... to sing in our "little boy" voices. So, sing we did... with enthusiasm... lots of fun. We had the "boy's choir" sound that's so cool, and it was "OK" for all the guys to sing... athletes, bullies, everybody. The girls sang too, but Mrs Schneider really liked all us boys.

She prepared us so well that we even got invited to sing for things like PTA or teacher gatherings. We must have impressed someone because the next school year the district folks pulled all of us back together (some, including me, were even at other schools) to go sing with Mrs Schneider at the Ventura County Fair. I even had a solo... along with my best friend, Russell.

I may have grown a love for music anyway, but I gotta thank Mrs Schneider for planting that seed.

Influence 102

Oklahoma didn't have Kindergarten back in the '50s when we left, but our spring move to California meant I was blessed with a couple of months under the tutelage of my kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Lincoln. I remember going with my mom on the first day... meeting new kids... nap time... snack time... and recess. Mrs Lincoln was a veteran teacher, and she was great with us kids in all kinds of situations.

One day, not long after I'd enrolled, the school maintenance crew installed a new slide on the kindergarten playground. Now you have to remember that this was 1956, so it wasn't one of those cool winding yellow plastic slides like you see in playgrounds today. No, it was a straight, metal slide... but it was tall... taller than any slide I'd ever been on. I know, I know, it probably wasn't actually as tall as it seemed to me at just short of 6 years, but I'm tellin' ya it was big, and I couldn't wait to climb up that ladder and fly down it's gleaming metal surface. Trouble is, the slide had just been installed, the concrete was still wet, and Mrs Lincoln said we were not allowed to get on our new slide until the next day.

Well, that afternoon at recess, we all played, but I don't remember what I did... all I could think of was the new slide... about how big it was... about how much fun it was gonna be. Well, recess ended and we all ran over to where we lined up to go back inside. Then, why I don't know, I stopped and detoured toward the slide. I climbed the ladder all the way to the top... I held on tight at the top as I scrambled into place... I hesitated just a bit and then pushed off down the shiny metal road to the playground sand. It was exhilarating... but I knew as soon as my feet hit the sand that I had messed up. I ran over and melted into the end of the line and went back into the classroom.

After we were all back inside Mrs Lincoln got an activity going and then called me over to her desk. She asked me why I had gone on the slide when I knew I was supposed to wait until the next day. I don't remember what I said, but I do remember what she said... something about her knowing I could do better and she would expect that out of me from that point on. I think I had to stand in the corner or something... which actually made me feel better... penance usually does, right? Other than that, it was over as far as Mrs Lincoln was concerned, and I was a model student the rest of what was left of the school year. As far as I knew Mrs Lincoln didn't even tell my mom about the slide incident.

I think I've remembered Mrs Lincoln and this incident so well and so long because I learned a couple of things that helped shape me as I got older. One is that there are usually good reasons for rules... even when cool slides are involved. The other is that wisdom includes knowing when to be tough and when to demonstrate grace. Thank you, Mrs Lincoln.

And... we had fun on that slide every day until summer vacation.

Influence 101

Often my running time, at least when I'm running by myself, ends up being really good thinking or praying time. The other day I was trudging through a one-hour run and, for some reason, got to thinking about all the different people who have influenced my life in various ways. There have been many... the first of whom were my parents and including church leaders, teachers, colleagues, friends, Virginia, my kids, and so many more. So, I decided I would spend some time over the next few weeks blogging about some of those folks.

The obvious place to begin is with my folks. You're saying, "Duh... everyone's parents are a major influence in their lives," and that's true... for good or ill. I have been blessed to have parents whose influence leaned way to the positive side, but even a lot of those areas are common to many healthy families. So, I decided to write about some things that may be more specific to our family.

As I was running that day I thought about one particular decision my parents made early in my life that had a huge impact on me growing up. The spring before I was 6 years old we left Oklahoma, following Route 66 as it wound a narrow ribbon of road toward California. My folks, my baby brother and I crawled into our 1954 (I think) Chevy towing a big, heavy homemade trailer with all our possessions and pulled out. I remember pulling away from my grandparents house in Roosevelt, and I remember crying a little.

We ended up in Santa Paula where my mom taught 6th grade English (or maybe it was called Core) and my dad worked first at a service station and later for an industrial supply company. Three years later we moved a few miles down the road to Oxnard where my mom taught high school and my brother and I spent most of our growing up years, even connecting up with a couple of Bean girls as life partners.

Not that Roosevelt would have been a bad place to grow up, but I cannot even think of all the ways my life would be different if my folks hadn't had the courage... hadn't taken a huge chance... hadn't totally pulled up stakes and made that move to California. Their spirit of adventure and a desire to put family and service to God first has had a huge impact on me. I didn't really think about it at the time, but our own move to California 3 years ago was at least partially empowered by the courage my parents had demonstrated almost 50 years before. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for your faith and your example!

Preacher Search

As most of you know, we've been without a preacher since the middle of September. What you may not know is that things at Eastside have been going remarkably well. The kinds of things that often happen during times a church does not have a preacher (attendance flagging, contribution going down, ministry grinding to a halt) just haven't happened. Our attendance and contribution have at least held steady... we had our largest crowds since last Easter one Sunday in December and a couple of weeks ago. More important than all that is the spirit of the people. I know most are looking forward to having a regular preacher again, but there is such a good attitude... such a positive and Spirit-led outlook. It's been a blessing to everyone.

Well, we have received a bunch of resumes, and our elders asked seven of our members representing a cross section of the congregation to serve as an initial screening team to prayerfully narrow the list to 5 or 6 guys who seem to be a good fit for us. After a couple of weeks praying over and wrestling with the resumes, we had our meeting tonight, and it was... well... I guess you'd call it a spiritual experience. It was really neat to see how God worked through our diversity to craft a unified result... just special.

I have no idea what the next steps will look like or who will eventually join our ministry team at Eastside, but I gotta say that we're off to a God start.

Valentine's Day

The trip to Nashville went really well. It was pretty cold, but not too bad, and it stayed dry. Virginia's mom is doing well, and we were able to spend some time with her. It was also really nice to visit with Kent, Susan and Ryan, as well as Mark, Jean, Lydia, Marcus, Hope, Heidi, and Jarrod. We were able to soak up a lot of family time.

Thirty-five and one half years ago Virginia and I walked down a grassy aisle in a beautiful backyard in the hills outside Oxnard, California, and agreed to spend our lives together. For that reason, Valentine's Day has always been a bit special to us... that half-anniversary. In the early years we set aside today for a date of some sort, formally recognizing the half-anniversary thing because we were married on her birthday, and I didn't want her to feel discounted in any way. For a long time now we've been less formal about that, but we the day still reminds both of us that we are committed to each other for a lifetime.

It's really neat that today, with going on 36 years together, a daughter who turns 30 this summer, both kids married to wonderful spouses and doing well, and one grand kid and another on the way, when I look at Virginia I still see that intelligent, talented, and beautiful girl I married all those years ago. Oh... there are some differences... some of those physical things that happen to all of us over time... but the main change I see is that she has grown to love God more deeply and richly over the years and that has allowed her to love me more fully as well.

So, as we "celebrate" Valentine's Day by going to praise team rehearsal tonight and by getting to bed early enough to be rested for tomorrow, I thank God for blessing my life (and the lives of others as well) with this special lady whom I am honored to call my wife. It just doesn't get much better than this!!

Nashville Bound

Well, tomorrow morning we'll head to the Oakland airport and catch a flight to Nashville. Virginia's mom had a birthday the end of January, so I guess this is sort of a belated trip to celebrate that event... or at least just to see her and the other Nashville family. One or both of us manages to get back there at least once a year, and it's always good to catch up with everyone.

It's supposed to be pretty cold while we're there, but not nearly like in some parts of the country. For that I'm really thankful! We'll just take some layers and we'll be fine. At least we'll miss out on the rain here. We have a series of storms coming in and we're way behind on rain, but if we're gone when it's coming down, that'll be OK with me. It's supposed to be relatively dry in Nashville.

One really positive by-product to our much needed rain is that there will be lots of snow in the Sierras for the youth snow trip this weekend. They'd have fun anyway, but fresh snow on a snow trip is always just the ticket!

Back to Nashville, we'll get to make two trips there this year. Our nephew, Russell is getting married in June, and we plan to make the trip. We'll fly into Little Rock to pick up my mom and drive over to Nashville. Looking forward to that, and it's still several months away.

Probably won't blog while I'm gone, so hope everyone has a blessed weekend.

Handy Tools

Any of you who knows me very well at all knows that, while I'm not a total duffus around tools, there is no mistaking me for a handy man. I'm pretty good with a paint brush, and minor repairs and installations usually get finished in only about three times as much time as one might expect, but Bob Villa has nothing to worry about from me.

However, some you guys (and gals) out there are quite good with tools, so I thought you'd enjoy these definitions a friend sent me... they more closely match my own. Who knows, you may want to rush right out and make a purchase or two!!

DRILL PRESS: A tall upright machine useful for suddenly snatching flat metal bar stock out of your hands so that it smacks you in the chest and flings your beer across the room, splattering it against that freshly-stained heirloom piece you were drying.
WIRE WHEEL: Cleans paint off bolts and then throws them somewhere under the workbench with the speed of light. Also removes fingerprints and hard-earned guitar calluses from fingers in about the time it takes you to say, "You %&*%R"
ELECTRIC HAND DRILL: Normally used for spinning pop rivets in their holes until you die of old age.
SKILL SAW: A portable cutting tool used to make studs too short.
PLIERS: Used to round off bolt heads. Sometimes used in the creation of blood-blisters. The most often tool used by all women.
BELT SANDER: An electric sanding tool commonly used to convert minor touch-up jobs into major refinishing jobs.
HACKSAW: One of a family of cutting tools built on the Ouija board principle. It transforms human energy into a crooked, unpredictable motion, and the more you attempt to influence its course, the more dismal your future becomes.
VISE-GRIPS: Generally used after pliers to completely round off bolt heads. If nothing else is available, they can also be used to transfer intense welding heat to the palm of your hand.
WELDING GLOVES: Heavy duty leather gloves used to prolong the conduction of intense welding heat to the palm of your hand.
OXYACETYLENE TORCH: Used almost entirely for lighting various flammable objects in your shop on fire. Also handy for igniting the grease inside the wheel hub you want the bearing race out of.
TABLE SAW: A large stationary power tool commonly used to launch wood projectiles for testing wall integrity.
HYDRAULIC FLOOR JACK: Used for lowering an automobile to the ground after you have installed your new brake shoes, trapping the jack handle firmly under the bumper.
EIGHT-FOOT LONG YELLOW PINE 2X4: Used for levering an automobile upward off of a trapped hydraulic jack handle.
TWEEZERS: A tool for removing wood splinters and wire wheel wires.
E-Z OUT BOLT AND STUD EXTRACTOR: A tool ten times harder than any known drill bit that snaps neatly off in bolt holes thereby ending any possible future use.
RADIAL ARM SAW: A large stationary power saw primarily used by most shops to scare neophytes into choosing another line of work.
TWO-TON ENGINE HOIST: A tool for testing the maximum tensile strength of everything you forgot to disconnect.
CRAFTSMAN 1/2 x 24-INCH SCREWDRIVER: A very large pry bar that inexplicably has an accurately machined screwdriver tip on the end opposite the handle.
AVIATION METAL SNIPS: See hacksaw.
TROUBLE LIGHT: The home mechanic's own tanning booth. Sometimes called a drop light, it is a good source of vitamin D, "the sunshine vitamin," which is not otherwise found under cars at night. Health benefits aside, its main purpose is to consume 40-watt light bulbs at about the same rate that 105mm howitzer shells might be used during, say, the first few hours of the Battle of the Bulge. More often dark than light, its name is somewhat misleading.
PHILLIPS SCREWDRIVER: Normally used to stab the vacuum seals under lids and for opening old-style paper-and-tin oil cans and splashing oil on your shirt; but can also be used, as the name implies, to strip out Phillips screw heads. Women excel at using this tool.
STRAIGHT SCREWDRIVER: A tool for opening paint cans. Sometimes used to convert common slotted screws into non-removable screws.
AIR COMPRESSOR: A machine that takes energy produced in a coal-burning power plant 200 miles away and transforms it into compressed air that travels by hose to a Chicago Pneumatic impact wrench that grips rusty bolts which were last over tightened 30 years ago by someone at Ford, and instantly rounds off their heads. Also used to quickly snap off lug nuts.
PRY BAR: A tool used to crumple the metal surrounding that clip or bracket you needed to remove in order to replace a 50 cent part.
HOSE CUTTER: A tool used to make hoses too short.
HAMMER: Originally employed as a weapon of war, the hammer nowadays is used as a kind of divining rod to locate the most expensive parts adjacent the object we are trying to hit. Women primarily use it to make gaping holes in walls when hanging pictures.
MECHANIC'S KNIFE: Used to open and slice through the contents of cardboard cartons delivered to your front door; works particularly well on contents such as seats, vinyl records, liquids in plastic bottles, collector magazines, refund checks, and rubber or plastic parts. Especially useful for slicing work clothes, but only while in use.
&*#@* TOOL: Any handy tool that you grab and throw across the garage while yelling at the top of your lungs. It is also, most often, the next tool that you will need.

Super Bowl Reflections

Like many of you, we watched the Super Bowl, and, while I didn't really have an emotional attachment to either team, I was sort of pulling for the Colts. I guess I just wanted Peyton Manning (great quarterback and seemingly really nice guy) to win so all the sports pundits would have something to talk about other than the great cosmic question of why Peyton can't win the big one.

It ended up being a different game than I expected, the Colts' defense and running game seemingly making the difference. Also, I guess at least partly because of the rain, there were more turnovers than one would expect. After the early going when the Bears ran the opening kick-off back for a touchdown and dominated on defense, the Colts' offense took over and dominated in passing, rushing, time of possession and first downs. Yet, until fairly late in the game the Bears were close and I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd scored and taken the lead on a big play. Then Bears' turnovers and the Colts' running game and defense sealed the outcome.

Then came the best part of the game... some of the post-game comments. Considering NFL Football is the most violent/crushing of sports with huge men colliding at full speed for 4 quarters, and considering this is the same league that often showcases the likes of T.O. and others, and considering cash and fancy wheels and "bling" are often the most recognized trappings of players, how cool was it to hear the announcers talk about the soft-spoken coach, Tony Dungy, who never yells and never curses. Then, the first thing the owner did at the trophy ceremony was to thank God for the blessing of having the focus to win. And when they asked Peyton Manning about how he felt winning and being the MVP, he said he was just proud to be part of a team that worked hard with everyone doing their parts. Finally, when they asked Tony Dungy about how he felt about he and Lovie Smith (Bears coach) being the first African American coaches to take teams to the Super Bowl and winning the game against his good friend his response was classic, something like, "Well, I'm proud of being the first African American coach to win the Super Bowl; I think the diversity is good for our country. But what Lovie and I feel best about is showing that you can win as Christians... doing things God's way." First time I've ever heard that kind of statement from a head coach of any pro team. And when they interviewed Lovie Smith outside the Bears' locker room, he was a class act as well... something like if the Bears couldn't win, he was glad his friend did.

After all that, I decided that everybody won something tonight... and maybe, just maybe enough kids were watching that one day we'll have more Tony Dungys and Lovie Smiths making headlines... and fewer T.O.s

Perceptions

On his Thursday post this week Mike Cope made this comment, "I’m feeling in the minority right now. No governor or senator from my state has yet announced a presidential bid for 2008," which elicited these two comments from readers:

After GWB, can America ever trust another Texas politician? - ses

And

c’mon ses~ tell me another president who has been thrown a 9-11 terroristic blow and a war WITHOUT borders? NONE!!!!!!!!!!I think GWB has done a fine job with the information he had at the time. He is an honest, God fearing man. Would you have wanted to be in his place, I sure wouldn’t have~~~~ God Bless America and GWB - lee

It got me to thinking about perceptions we form... how we see things in our lives... what influences the way we interpret stuff. The quotes above form a good illustration of what I mean. Many (perhaps most) of Mike's readers are believers with cofc backgrounds who probably have many ideas and beliefs in common. Yet the perceptions of these two about our current president and how he has run his administration seem to be polar opposites. (BTW, I also think it interesting that others didn't bite and turn the entire discussion toward politics... probably a good thing.) OK, so basically when I read this a bunch of thoughts started running through my head. Stuff like: Jesus recruited guys with differing political views... room in the Kingdom for... They'll know you're my followers by the way you love one another... Unity and uniformity can look totally different...

Stuff like that. Then I got to wondering just how different the perceptions of people who aren't Christians (the folks we believe God wants to reach through us) about Christians are from our perceptions of who we are. Now, I realize that there are a wide variety of beliefs and practices among those of us who call ourselves Christians (or believers or disciples or followers or... ), but my guess is that most of that stuff is totally off the radar for most who are not believers. I've just been wondering how dissimilar our self-perceptions are from their perceptions about us... and to what extent either are accurate (although I guess anyone trying to judge that would need to do so looking through the lens of his own perceptions, eh?).

Anyway, Virginia and I have been reading Searching for God Knows What by Donald Miller a few pages at a time on weekday mornings before work. His perspectives on most things Christian usually make me stop and think. This morning our reading included the following from pp. 190-191, and it again led me to wonder how our actions or rhetoric have negatively impacted the perceptions those outside the church hold about believers.

This battle we are in is against the principalities of darkness, not against people who are different from us. In war you shoot the enemy, not the hostage.

In this way, the chief difference between morality in a relational context to Jesus and morality in the context of the lifeboat (his metaphor for the way most of us live) is that one system works for people and the other works against them.

It is obvious when reading scripture that what you and I commonly think of as morality is thin in definition. Some Christians, when considering immorality in culture, consider two issues: abortion and gay marriage.

Moral ideas presented in the New Testament, and even from the mouth of Christ, however, involve loving our neighbors, being one in the bond of peace, loving our enemies, taking care of our own business before we judge somebody else, forgiving debts even as we have been forgiven, speaking in truth and love else we sound like clanging symbols... and protecting the beauty of sex and marriage.

Morality, then, becomes the bond, the glue that holds our families together, our communities together, our churches together, and most important, builds intimacy with Christ. Morality, in the context of a relationship with Jesus, becomes the voice of love to a confused community, the voice of reason and calm in a loud argument, the voice of life in a world of walking dead, the voice of Christ in a sea of self-hatred.

The trick Satan has played on us involving his spin on morality has not gone unnoticed by those outside the church. (He goes on with examples.)

I wonder what those outside the church actually do perceive about us... about what we really think is important... about how we define morality... about what it means to be a Christ-follower. Perceptions...