Stewardship

The Value of a Life

The first career I pursued as a young man was radio newscaster.  After two years of Junior College, I attended Broadcasting School for a year and secured my first real job as the newsman for KBPI in downtown Denver.  I emphasize downtown because the transmitter was so weak that unless you lived near downtown, chances of getting the signal were slim. 

The programming at KBPI was “soul music.”  Don’t be confused; the term “soul” did not mean that it was religious programming.  The station played artists like James Brown, known as the “Godfather of Soul,” Aretha Franklin, and other black singers.  In fact, the morning disc jockey, “Funky Frank,” and I were the only two white guys at the station. 

My job was to report the news, which meant everything from gathering, writing, editing, researching, and reading.  The task was made more difficult by the fact that the station had no access to any news sources, but every twenty minutes throughout the day, I was expected to have a fresh news report.  I gathered news by recording other radio stations.  I would rewrite their stories and use their sound bites.  I spent many hours with a razor blade and scotch tape, splicing tape so I could work a quote from the President or local politician into my news stories. 

The reason I am remembering this experience from 1969 to 1970, is because one of the musical artists played on that radio station was a group of singing brothers.  They were known as the Jackson 5 and they featured the youngest of the boys, a precocious preteen named Michael.  It soon became apparent that there was no need for a musical group; the little boy sensation would make it on his own.  

Today, forty years later, it seems like the whole world has stopped down for the funeral of Michael Jackson. 

To say that Michael Jackson was a successful entertainer is like saying it is hot during the summer in Texas.  He is often referred to as “The King of Pop.”  Other than Elvis Presley, who was simply called “The King,” I don’t know of any other entertainer who has captured so much public attention. 

Creative Church Financing

Financing the work of the church has been an evolving process over the course of church history.  The very early church, as recorded in the Book of Acts, operated on the free will offerings of those who were moved to give.  Later as the lines between church and state became blurred, taxation was often used to provide resources for the church. 

I have seen old church buildings in New England where they charged “pew rent” as a means financing the church during the early days of our country.  The method most of us are familiar with is church members giving their offerings as the primary source of income for the church.  However, there are often other methods that are used to supplement the offerings of church members.  Garage sales, car washes, bake sales, and other events can be used to finance special projects.

Once I was invited to meet with an African congregation in Dallas to explain how a capital fund program works for a church.  I spoke about prayer and following God’s leadership and making commitments and being willing to give sacrificially.  All of the things you normally hear during a capital fund campaign.  This church needed to have a campaign because their project was estimated at one million dollars.  A reachable figure for them but it would require commitment.

They all listened very politely, but it seemed like I was not getting through, so I stopped to ask if they had any questions.  One lady graciously addressed me and said that I did not understand what they wanted from me.  They were expecting me to talk to them about bake sales and carnivals like those that they used at school when they needed to raise money. 

I Am No Longer a Southern Baptist

Jose, his wife, and daughter just moved to our community and I dropped by to welcome them and invite them to church.  We became friends and eventually he came to church and was baptized.  Jose’s wife was a very large woman.  She was one of the first who had her stomach stapled to help her lose weight.  This was long before they started using those large rubber bands utilized today and they actually used staples.  I wondered if it might be just as effective to staple the refrigerator shut, but I didn’t say anything.  However, the surgical procedure was successful and she became a much smaller, more attractive person. 

With her new looks, she apparently decided she could do better than an illegal farm worker for a husband, so she divorced Jose.  He spent the next few years going back and forth between Mexico and the Texas panhandle, and she married and divorced a man in a neighboring community.

A car accident took the life of Jose’s ex-wife.  I did not want him to go to the funeral by himself, so I offered to tag along.  I found a sport coat and tie he could wear and we drove the twenty miles to the church.  Upon arrival, the local pastor met us and indicated that the family was in another part of the church.  He took Jose back to visit with his ex-in-laws and I waited in the sanctuary, just the casket and me.

In a few minutes, the pastor returned with a pained expression on his face.  He said, “I don’t know what to tell you, but they are throwing you guys out!”  He explained that her family was incensed when they saw Jose, fearing that he would attempt to claim custody of his daughter.  Their response was to grab him and quickly escort him out the door.  As the pastor spoke, I looked out the front door of the church, and sure enough, there was Jose walking down the street in a heavy rain (wearing my coat and tie) with an expression like a beaten dog.  The pastor apologized and I drove Jose home.  It was the first, and hopefully last time I was thrown out of a funeral. 

Now, I have been thrown out of the Southern Baptist Convention.  I have been a Southern Baptist all of my life.  My father was a pastor, Southern Baptist of course, even though we lived in Colorado, which is not a southern state.  I worked my way through all the badges and honors of RA’s and my sister did the same with GA’s.  If you are a Southern Baptist then I do not need to explain what that means.  I learned well the genius of the Cooperative Program as a method for supporting missions.

Why Do We Do the Right Thing?

Imagine walking out of the barbershop enjoying a new haircut and then you stumble over large bags of money lying on the sidewalk.  It would only take a few seconds for your mind to begin dreaming about all the things you could now do with all that money - travel, big screen TV, classic car, new house – the sky is the limit as they say. 

Although this seems to fall in the category that if it sounds too good to be true then it probably is not true, it actually happened to David Jenks and Hanson Herring.  These two gentlemen stumbled upon several bags that they initially thought were filled with garbage.  Upon closer inspection, they realized they were filled with money – more than $300,000 actually. 

They soon realized that the bags of money had fallen from a Brinks armored truck.  The proper authorities were called and the money was returned to the rightful owner.  Showing their gratitude, the Brinks Company provided a reward for the two men - a T-shirt and a gold coin commemorating the company's 150th anniversary. 

I don’t know about you, but when I read about the reward given to these men who proved their honesty and saved the company hundreds of thousands of dollars, I was shocked.  All they received was a lousy T-shirt and a throwaway advertising token.  I admit, if I were one of the reward recipients, I would be a little disappointed. 

This recent news story caused me to reflect on why we do things.  What is the motivating factor when we choose to do the right thing?  Why did these two men in Syracuse, New York, call the authorities and return the money rather than pocketing it for themselves?  This is not a casual question.  It is the subject of many philosophical essays and the conundrum faced by numerous ethicists. 

Since I try to have realistic goals and expectations, I do not plan to resolve the ancient philosophical and ethical dilemma within these few paragraphs.  Instead, I want us to reflect on the value of rewards.  Do we normally expect some type of reward for doing the right thing?  Are we more likely to do the right thing if there is some type of benefit that comes our way? What would it take to get you to move from inertia toward positive action?

A New Chapter In My Autobiography

One of the great characters in the Old Testament was Abram, later known as Abraham.  The story of his life takes up a significant portion of the book of Genesis and he is referenced throughout the entire Bible.  I think the appeal is that he was an adventurer.  He was willing to take a risk, to make a change in his life if that is what was required to follow God.  He never allowed a fear of change to keep him from experiencing God’s best. 

If most of us were to write an autobiography, we would probably begin each chapter with an experience of making a change.  My autobiography would begin with chapter one, changing from a healthy baby boy into a child struggling for survival and fighting the effects of polio.  Another chapter might describe a change that led Sharon and I to move to Louisville, Kentucky, even though neither of us had ever crossed the Mississippi River.  I think I could easily describe my entire life by recounting the major changes I have experienced.  No doubt, you could as well. 

It is time to start a new chapter in my autobiography.  At an age when many of my friends are calculating their retirement account projections and talking about being content with the plan to retire from their present job, I sense God’s call to pack up and make a change. 

For the past twelve plus years, I have worked for denominational organizations, providing stewardship help and resources to churches.  I cannot say that every day of this work has been terrific, but the vast majority of them were.  Although I am a positive person by temperament, it is not an exaggeration to say that I thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of the work.  Neither the occasional cranky denominational executive nor pigheaded pastor kept me from relishing in my daily tasks. 

I am taking all my education, several years of experience working in the secular world, and thirty years of learning how churches operate, and starting my own company.  I have thought about doing this for a while, but God made it clear in the past few months that now is the time.

Nuclear Penmanship

Edward Bulwer-Lytton was an English play writer in the early 19th century.  In 1839, he wrote a play that you have probably never heard of, except for one line.  With that one phrase he accomplished what every writer strives to achieve.  He penned a statement that will likely live for centuries.  Act II, scene II, has these words – “The pen is mightier than the sword.” 

The obvious and true meaning of these words is that what is written is more powerful than a military assault.  Since the invention of the printing press, this statement has proven true numerous times.  Even on a personal level, most of us will recover more quickly from a punch in the eye than from the malicious attack of a critic armed with a pen. 

The power of the pen has been enhanced to the point of extreme danger in this day and age that we could appropriately call the communication era.  With the advent and growth of the Internet and the abundance of blogs, it seems that virtually every person has been armed with the powerful weapon of words.

In times past, whenever there was a church fight, the only ones involved were the church members, those with the most vested interest.   Even though a church split was uncomfortable and typically very destructive, the only ones involved were church members.  In their desire not to harm the church, members usually kept such disputes close to the vest. 

Along came the Internet and the apparent reality that every person in the country has their own website (probably a slight exaggeration).  Not only do people have their own door to the Internet, they like to use it.  The result is that often when there is a church fight, church members representing all sides of an issue, race to their computer to post an accusation, description, evaluation, or slanderous comment about others within the church. 

Real Help for Real People

During an extended conversation with a friend recently, he came up with what may or may not be a good idea.  At the time, it sounded good, but I am still giving it some thought.  So, I thought I should ask for your help. 

We were talking about stewardship (I do have other interests, by the way), specifically excuses people offer for not giving.  One of the more frequent problems people cite that prevents them from giving is that they are in debt.  Many times, I have heard people say they will tithe as soon as they get out of debt.

My friend suggested that it would be nice to belong to a church that cared enough about its members to provide concrete help when debt is a problem.  What would happen if the church responded to the problem of debt by paying it off for the family?  This would free up their finances and allow them to tithe.

If you are like me, your first thought is, “That’s dumb!”  However, give it some more thought.  This action of the church might have some very positive ramifications.  For example, a typical family might have $5,000 in credit card debt with an income of $40,000.  (I’m just making up these numbers for the purpose of illustration.)  The $5,000 paid by the church will be repaid by the family tithe in a little more than a year, and in two years, the return will be significant.  Thus, my friend’s idea might make financial sense for the church. 

Making a New Friend

I am not a frequent user of text messaging on my phone, even though it seems to be the way to communicate now days.  When I do receive a message, it is almost always from one of my kids or my wife.  Sharon is really into texting, but when I receive a message, I am more likely to make a call than respond with a message.  I like to talk to real people in real time. 

Last weekend I was in the Target store with some of the family as they were shopping.  To my surprise, my phone indicated that I was the recipient of a text message.  Here was the message:
“All u can eat crawfish 2morrow call me in am if u wanna go”

There was no name associated with the message, only a phone number.  It was a 214 number so I knew it was someone in Dallas.  However, I could not think of anyone who I know, or who knows me, who would be inviting me to a crawfish feed on Sunday morning.  I don’t like crawfish and I am normally busy on Sunday morning. 

The easy, and probably the correct thing to do would have been to ignore the message or send a reply indicating they had the wrong number.  But, it’s Saturday evening and I’m in the Target trying to stay occupied while the others shop, so I decided to make a new friend.  I send a very short reply.
“Im n” (The great thing about texting is that you do not need to know spelling or punctuation.)

During this whole process, I felt like I was fishing.  So far, I have thrown the baited hook into the water and it was not long until I had a bite.  He quickly replied with one word, “cool.”

I had a nibble but it was important to set the hook so I wrote back, “Can u pick me up?”

I wanted to engage him in further conversation to make sure this new friendship might go somewhere.  Sure enough, I had him when he wrote back, “Yes around 11?” 

In order to keep the conversation going I pushed a little to see how far he would go.  I wrote, “the usual place?” just to see if he would speculate where that might be. 

However, he was little confused when he replied, “wheres that?”

“Where we usually meet. Can I bring a friend?” I replied. 

What Happened to Church Music

Things have changed a great deal at the seminary where I earned my preaching credentials.  Of course, it has been more than thirty-two years.  Last week, seminary officials announced another change.  The School of Church Music is being closed.  When I was a student, they had the theology school, religious education school, social work school, and the music school.  I believe they closed down social work a few years back and now they are doing the same thing to Church Music. 

The justification given was the lack of students.  There are simply not enough students to justify having a School of Church Music.  Courses will still be taught but they will be administered under other disciplines. 

I remember the music program from seminary with great fondness.  Of course, those of us studying the high science of theology frequently teased the Church Music students just like we did the religious education students as being nothing more than acolytes to our superior calling.  However, I loved the performances and the worship leadership they provided.  I was raised as a Baptist from the western frontier.  All of my church experience was with a typical revivalistic influence.  I was accustomed to three hymns (first, second, and third stanza), a special, the sermon, and an invitation.  When I was introduced to a liturgical style of worship, not only in seminary chapel but also in Kentucky churches, I was fascinated. 

I began to pay attention to the words of the hymns and understand the symbolism of the ritual.  I had never belonged to a church that observed Advent or anything during Holy Week other than Easter Sunday.  It was the students and professors of the School of Church Music who made these introductions to me.  I clearly remember attending chapel services and being moved by the sound of six hundred or more men (we had very few women seminary students in those days) singing beautiful harmony and infusing new meaning into the ancient hymns.  The music of those chapel services was typically much better than the preaching. 

Judging a Book By It's Cover

I am quick to admit that sometimes I am a slow learner.  I was ten or eleven years old before I came to believe that I would never be the first baseman of the New York Yankees.  That was in spite of the fact that I had never even been able to walk, much less run on a baseball field.  Somehow, in my mind, I thought that when I became old enough for the major leagues, it would just happen.  It can take me awhile to figure out the obvious. 

One day in seminary class, we had one of those unusual experiences when the professor was late for class.  Students were milling about the room visiting with one another.  Since I was in a wheelchair, it was normally easier for me to sit in the front of the class, often with few people nearby.  On this particular day, a young man who always remained in the back, came and sat in the chair beside me.  He introduced himself and then said, “I have wanted to speak with you all semester, but I didn’t know what to say.” 

Now I was the one who did not know what to say.  I did not know what he meant.  I suggested that he could simply say “Hello” and we could go from there.  As we talked, he revealed that he was uncomfortable with the fact that I was in a wheelchair and he had no idea how to relate to me.  Here was a young man who was probably a few credit hours short of graduation and becoming a pastor somewhere and he had no clue how to talk with a person who was different from others. 

It was the first time that it became clear to me that I was not like everyone else.  Since I was different, people treated me differently.  Until that moment, I was naïve, thinking and acting as if I was just like everyone else. 

It is true by the way, when your appearance is out of the ordinary people make judgments about you.  Numerous times, I have heard children say to a parent, “What’s wrong with that man,” and the parent grabs the child in embarrassment and quickly walks away.  When entering a restaurant, the host often directs her attention to my companion rather than me, or a salesperson in a store will answer my question by speaking to my wife.  Even in seminary, I was continually encouraged to study counseling since it would be unlikely for a guy like me to ever preach.