Ebenezer Stone

Yesterday morning Kim chose to stay home with our youngest two, in order to wipe the flow from their noses in the privacy of our home, so our eldest two and I headed off to worship with the feel of a “daddy daughter date.” By 10:15 we were seated in the nether-regions of our congregation (I let the girls pick our seats), and though I would have chosen to be more integrated and up close, the margins do have their advantages, especially for a parent with young children.

The time to stand and sing began on cue, which for us meant that I stood and my daughters chose to psuedo-stand by sitting on the top part of the upfolded theater seats. The independence, playfulness, and arguable defiance of this moment, reminded me of the myraid challenges of being a dad, but it’s not so much the decision about the appropriate posture for my children in worship that I want to remember. It’s what happened next that I don’t want to lose. In the midst of these swirling thoughts, my oldest daughter began to sing. Perched like sparrow in her makeshift nest, from a place within her that at times feels impossible for me to touch, the words rose strong and clear…

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now am found
Was blind but now I see

Amen.

Yesterday around 4:00PM I was hit by the afternoon crash, so I decided to head down to the corner convenient store for a refill of my favorite caffeinated beverage. Standing in the check-out line, I experienced an interaction between two people that woke me up more than the petty chemicals in my 32oz. cup could ever hope.

At first, I assumed it was two friends having a somewhat spirited disagreement. I tried not to listen at first, but as the volume grew ever louder and more heated, it became clear that one guy was the store manager and the other guy was a customer… a very drunken customer who was being asked to leave the store. When he couldn’t talk any louder, the customer opened up his can of… expletive language, the only noticable effect being that it really pissed off angered the manager.

At this point I was expecting the punches to fly, but instead – at the top of his lungs – the drunken man yelled, “LOVE ME!!!” To which the store manager quickly replied, “LOVE YOURSELF, AND GET OUT OF MY STORE!!!” Then then manager told one of the three cashiers who were giggling behind the counter to call the police.

Staring at my feet, I was reminded of Jesus’ call for us to be peacemakers and to love our neighbors… the angry store manager, the giggling cashiers, and of course, the drunken customer. And I walked away from them all wondering about the terrible inconvenience of this command.

“There was a time when the church was very powerful-in the time when the early Christians rejoiced at being deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society. . . . But the judgment of God is upon the church [today] as never before. If today’s church does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authenticity, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the 20th century.” (M.L. King, Letter from Birmingham Jail)

Interesting in more thoughts by M.L. King? Try here.

It’s 7:00 AM as I sit to write this letter. I’ve taken a hot shower, shaved, and brewed a pot of coffee. It’s a normal morning with one exception: without the gift of water none of these things would be possible. To be honest, I don’t usually think about this kind of thing, and the water in my life doesn’t really feel like a gift. Clean water is my expectation, and without it at my ready disposal, I’m pretty sure I’d be a grumpy person. But as I speculate how I’d cope in different circumstances, I realize that normal mornings for folks in other places are very different than mine.

Last summer I took a team to Roatan, Honduras where we built bunk beds and ministered to children in a community called Sandy Bay. It is a poor community where a family of six typically shares a one-room home with a dirt floor, and children are suffering from preventable water-born diseases. With the help of a water expert who has intentionally transplanted from southern California to Sandy Bay, we hope to return a team to Honduras along with a new water purification system.

Details to come.

“The Christian life begins as a community that is gathered at the place of impossibility, the tomb.”

- Eugene Peterson, Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places

Leaving a large church in an affluent northern suburn of Tallahassee in order to be a part of a small midtown church plant has been a good thing for my family. Our past two years at CenterPoint have given us the opportunity to be a part of a formative Gospel community.

Recently, however, I’ve noticed that the experiment is beginning to feel… well… not so experimental. I’m not sure whether or not to embrace what’s beginning to feel “normal” or to push, pull, and pray onward and upward towards something more meaningful. Regardless, I feel the need to respond to these feelings in some way and have volunteered to lead a group journey into the Sermon on the Mount. Our first meeting is this Sunday evening. Details (hopefully) to come.

Recently I attended a meeting about the formation of a faith-based tutoring/mentoring program for our community. A part of the discussion revolved around the public school system’s insistance that nothing “religious” be a part of our interaction with the kids. In response to this, a good friend of mine said something that both startled and bothered me. “I’m not interested in a bunch of educated pagans,” he said. Hmm…

I am.

I’m also interested in a bunch of well-fed pagans. And healthy, clean, clothed, safe pagans… free from injustice and oppression… which is another way of saying that I’m interested in pagans who are free from the bondage of pride, greed, envy, self-righteous anger, lust, gluttony, and sloth (I think that’s all seven). And I’m interested in pagans who are filled with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control… who love their neighbors as themselves. Hey, wait a minute…

- Pagan