Tenth Anniversary at LABC

I recently celebrated my tenth anniversary as pastor of the Lexington Avenue Baptist Church. This wonderful church recognized me and my family with special guests from previous churches I have served and with a very generous gift. It may sound like a cliché, but it really is hard to believe it has been ten years.

In that time my children have grown. We came to Danville with a preschooler and an infant. We celebrated our tenth anniversary with a teenager and a pre-teen. All that is to say that I have aged as well. But that’s another matter!!

In those ten years I have grown as a person and as a minister. I would like to say that I am wiser and perhaps in some ways I am. I have certainly learned to do things I had not previously done.

My ten years have been enriched by a wonderful group of folks with whom I minister. Our church staff is tremendous—and I don’t say that lightly. They are a gifted and called group of individuals. Each of them helps me to be a better minister. And each of them helps our church to be a better church.

Ten years can seem like a very long time. It can also be a time that passes very quickly. But more than anything else these ten years have given me a wealth of memories and stories that I will treasure for years to come.

Thanks be to God for those ten years!

Remembering

Today, October 12th, marks the 27th anniversary of my brother’s death. He was 21 when he died as the result of a car accident. I was 17. That event left me and my family changed in ways we could not immediately see. We continued to live life fully and in time we rediscovered the joy that life brings. David’s life, though short in years, was lived fully and touched the lives of others.

There are those events in life that serve as road markers in this journey. They are not what define us as individuals. Our lives are more the culmination of such markers. Rather, those road markers serve as reference points that help us to better understand who we have become and, perhaps, why we have become who we are. At times, those road markers become the points at which we choose one path over another. At other times those same markers become the points at which a certain path is thrust upon us.

David’s death was all that for me. As I look back over the years I can see the ways in which David’s death and life, and what I learned from that experience, have influenced my life.

I have learned that though we lose loved ones in death, there is much life yet to be lived, and live it we must. I have found great joy and blessings in the continuing journey of life—a wonderful wife, two beautiful children, moments filled with laughter and tears. All of this is a reminder that life is a gift.

There are many road markers in my life’s journey. Each one has had its own unique impact on me. But on this day I pause to remember David’s life and the times we shared together. For that remembrance, I give God thanks.

My Top Five Burgers

I had lunch today with some friends and in the process decided on my top five burgers. And so, in no particular order my top five burgers.

I begin with Billy Ray’s Playhouse Burger. A Prestonsburg favorite. I had this burger often during my five years in that wonderful town. Billy Ray was a real person—I knew both him and his mother. The playhouse was actually a pool room in an earlier time. Some of the old-timers in town could remember that earlier time. There were pictures of various community figures and locations on the walls. Included were the pictures of the school students killed when a school bus went off the road into a flooded creek during the 50s. The burgers are hand patted and grilled.

Second, burgers from Five Guys Burgers and Fries. I ran onto this place while on a family vacation in Washington, D.C. It has become one of my favorites. They recently opened a restaurant in Lexington near where I live. The fries are deep-fried in peanut oil. Great burgers and a great place.

Third, the Dream Catcher Burger from Stan’s Fish Sandwich. I know what you’re thinking. A great burger in a fish joint? It’s true! I had it just today. It is 100% grass-fed angus beef. Seasoned wonderfully. Topped with Swiss cheese, it makes for a great lunch!!

Fourth, Old Bridge Golf Club Grill Cheeseburger. I could eat this burger every week. Just the thought of it makes my mouth water. May have to go to Old Bridge tomorrow!!

Fifth, Jennifer’s hand-patted angus burgers with special fillings. Don’t know what all the special fillings are but onions are part of it. Throw them on the grill and these are great.

Obviously I like hamburgers. American cheese or swiss cheese is a must. Douse them with ketchup, mayonnaise, and sometimes mustard. Add a large glass of southern-style sweet tea and that’s a perfect lunch.

I think I’ll start dreaming now about tomorrow’s lunch

Fall is Here

The signs are clear—fall is in the air. Leaves are beginning to fall off some trees. The weather is cooler—at least where I live. Football games fill the weekend. Plans are in the making for fall festivals, trips to the pumpkin patch, and hayrides. Favorite chili recipes are being shared.

I have always liked the fall season. It ranks as one of my favorites. I don’t have anything against the other seasons. Nor do I have any specific reason for choosing the fall as my favorite. Perhaps the memories associated with the fall have something to do with it.

Those memories include homecoming parades, school festivals, cutting and splitting fire-wood, Friday night high school football games. Sweaters and sweat-shirts are taken off the closet shelf and out of summer storage.

The writer of Ecclesiastes reminds us that “there is a time for everything.” (Eccl. 3:1 NIV) Perhaps what I like about Fall is that it reminds me to slow down life’s pace; to take time to reflect and to grow. I don’t have any particular plans for this season; a lot of hopes perhaps but no firm plans. A trip to the mountains as the vibrant colors begin to set in would be nice. A Saturday afternoon drive would be nice. A trip to the pumpkin patch would create great memories, even though my kids are getting past the age of enjoying such a trip. A weekend get-away with my wife would be great. But no such plans are set yet. Spontaneity may a good thing this year.

This season won’t last. It will give way to winter and winter to spring. Life will continue its ebb and flow. But for now I will soak in all that this Fall has to offer. I will, as I seek to do each season, enjoy the good times Fall brings and learn from the difficult lessons that may come in this seasons journey. I pray that the good days far outweigh the more difficult days.

Fall is here. I welcome its return like an old friend.

Of Blackberries and Summer

Let’s be clear from the start. I love blackberries. I know love is an over-used word. But in this case it expresses well my sentiment. At a restaurant, when others ask for grape jelly for their biscuits, I want blackberry jelly. Don’t even offer me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich unless it’s made with blackberry jelly. Peach cobbler is not even in the running with blackberry cobbler. The only thing more American than baseball are blackberries

My love for blackberries goes back to my childhood when I would pick blackberries at my grandparents. Those blackberries were the wild sort, mind you. Meaning they were difficult to get to, had thorns on them, and were infested with chiggers. A day spent picking blackberries usually ended with a bath with Mama’s homemade Lye soap to kill the chiggers, iodine to heal the scratches, and Calamine lotion to ease the itching. In spite of all that there simply was nothing quite like picking those berries. I still recall with fondness my Mama cooking the berries up into a juice and my Papa squeezing the juice out of the berries through a cheese-cloth. The blackberry jelly I would enjoy the rest of the year has yet to be matched. It made breakfast a truly delicious meal.

The blackberries in my back yard today are the tame sort. No thorns, easy to get to, and chiggers do not find me as easily as they once did. But my yellow lab, Casey, loves to pull the berries off, ripe or not, as we pick them. It is quite the challenge to keep him out of the patch.

We don’t grow enough to make blackberry jelly, but we get enough for Jennifer’s fabulous blackberry pie! There is nothing quite like it either. Add some home made ice cream—blackberry pie a la mode--and summer remains one of those special joys in life.

The berries are just now beginning to ripen and my senses are already anxious for the pie soon to come!! Think I’ll go check the blackberry patch now and taste a berry or two. By the way, did I mention that I love blackberries?!

The Burdensome Joy of Preaching

There’s a phrase that’s been on my mind lately. It’s not original to me. It is from the title of a book by James Earl Massey--The Burdensome Joy of Preaching. (Abingdon Press, 1998) There is obviously a twofold aspect to this wonderful phrase that we preachers are keenly aware of. To say that preaching is a burden is to acknowledge the way in which preparing and delivering a specific sermon for a specific group of people with so many unique needs weighs upon the preacher each week.

Preaching is a joy, though, because of its divine purpose. We preachers sense deeply a calling by God to proclaim God’s love to others through the preaching event. It is a joy as well because, though we don’t always see, we know the redemptive effects that preaching has in and through the lives of individuals and congregations. That effect is not the result of the preacher but rather the result of God’s Holy Spirit working through the entirety of the preaching event and touching both the proclaimer and the listener.

I saw the reality of this phrase in its fullness at the preaching camp for the Academy for Preachers. Young preachers were preaching 4 sermons over a period of 5 days. That doesn’t sound like much. But consider the message that is being proclaimed, the work needed to be prepared, and the challenge of delivering both the Word and words and one can quickly see that their task could be an exhausting one.

Massey quotes Gardner C. Taylor as saying that preacher’s experience is “the sweet torture of Sunday morning.” After 20 plus years of preaching experience I can attest that preaching is indeed a burdensome joy. But would I do anything other than preach? There are times I have considered it. But the divine pull keeps me hooked. I have learned to live in and with that tension—the sweet torture of Sunday morning that is the burdensome joy of preaching.

A Preaching Coach

This week I am a preaching coach. I have helped to coach soccer and baseball—meaning that I watched the kids on the sidelines, picked up the bats and kept up with the batting rotation. Being a preaching coach is a bit different. The Academy of Preachers is holding its first preaching camp at a wonderful Christian retreat center in southern Indiana. There are twelve young preachers, women and men, ranging in age from about 16-28. Some have never attended a seminary. Some have recently graduated from divinity school.

They come from a myriad of denominations—Catholic, Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, Nazarene, and non-denominational. They have all gathered with a common purpose—to improve their preaching skills. During their time here they will be preaching a 6-8 minute sermon each day.

My job as coach is to review those sermons on video with four of the young preachers assigned to me. I am also to offer assistance as they prepare for the next day’s sermon. I am learning to pull from my years of pastoral experience and my coach training to help these young preachers in the short time we are together. I am encouraged by their enthusiasm for communicating the Good News of the Gospel to our world. They desire to be relevant and they yearn to make a difference in the lives of individuals and churches. Already I have heard some very good sermons and I’m sure I can look forward to hearing more in the days ahead. I am amazed at the energy these young people have for a vocation that is no longer given the respect that it once knew and does not find itself in the top lists of ways to make a living. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised because God has always worked in ways that leave us amazed.

Now that I think about it coaching young preachers is not that different from coaching a T-ball team. They both dream of hitting a home run—one with a bat the other with words; they both feel a bit of uncertainty as they step up to the plate; and, they both wouldn’t choose to do or be anything else because they simply love it. Seeing all that adds a certain sense of reward to my job as a coach.

I know that I won’t be a preacher forever. I have been preaching for over twenty years now. I look forward to many years of preaching yet. But one day, though I will continue to share God’s love with others, I may not be doing so from a pulpit. It’s good to know that these young people sense God’s call to step in and continue the preaching ministry that has communicated God’s love to countless numbers of people throughout the ages.