Does Sarah Palin Juggle Snakes?

I don’t often express political opinion here. That is because I have a sort of love-hate relationship with politics and also because many other people are far more knowledgeable than I when it comes to political matters.

Many of my friends are more “liberal” than I am. Many of my friends are more “conservative” than I am. My husband would be among that second group. Those of us in the middle are boring, honestly. But today I have to post about politics. I can't restrain myself.

When Bush and Clinton vied for the presidency, I was working at a legal services corporation (an LSC). LSCs are federally funded law firms that serve low-income clients. As you might surmise, I learned more than I could have imagined about the inequities of “the system”—the Medicaid system, Social Security and Supplemental Security Income, food stamps, etc.

Before working there, I would have described myself as a Republican, but afterwards I never could. I was too angry at what I had seen.. Still, while I wasn’t exactly a Democrat either, I was undoubtedly the most conservative person in the firm. I did not care for Clinton and was not excited about having him as president, but my colleagues spoke of him in such glowing terms it was almost idolatrous. As for Bush Sr., I was furious with him for several reasons that now no longer matter. I voted, but not with any enthusiasm. I admit that it has been longer than I can recall since I went to the polls with excitement about my choice—especially for president. Maybe the last time was before I could vote, a time in the 60s when I was in high school and enthusiastically campaigned for Richard Nixon and sat up late watching the returns and cheering. Yeah, we all know how that turned out.

Anyway, when Clinton won the election, there was widespread rejoicing in the halls at the firm. My boss said, “You don’t seem too happy. Don’t you like Clinton?” I explained a bit of my dilemma and admitted that I hadn’t even wanted to go to the polls. I wonder, will the day come when this liberal conservative/conservative liberal will ever feel good about my choices? I don’t know. Honestly, I don't like being in the middle of the road. People to the right and to the left want middle-of-the-road people to pick one side or the other. I wish I could do so without feeling I'm guilty either way.

I heard the sexist remarks aimed at Hillary Clinton by the news media. I was dismayed at the decidedly un-Christlike things I heard from some of my Christian friends. It seemed to me that if the target was Hillary, anything was acceptable as far as folks on the right were concerned, no matter how outrageous, petty or cruel.

I know Sarah Palin is very conservative. I don’t know yet what I think about her politcs. I haven’t had much time to investigate. But a quick search online left me fuming. I’m wondering why a lot of women seem to think that it is great to have a woman run for office unless she is conservative? It reminds me of my former colleagues at the law firm, people I deeply respected, who were excited about people of color running for office—unless and until that person was a Republican.

I am appalled at much of what I have been reading about Palin online. Could we stick to the issues? I can’t help but think that if the governor from Alaska were a liberal Democrat some of those same individuals would not be talking about her daughter, her special-needs baby, her marriage, her hair, her mannerisms, her picture on the cover of Vogue. They would be rejoicing that a woman, for the first time in history, was chosen as a candidate for vice president. And they would applaud her toughness, among other things. (A mistake here--second time. Geraldine Ferraro was first. Still remarkable.)

Today just finished me off. I read that Sarah Palin (who grew up and was baptized in an Assemblies of God church) shouldn't’t be in Vice Presidant because Pentecostals are too extreme in their politics and too “unbalanced,” and too “fundamentalist.” One educated news person who should have known better referred to her as a “Pentecostalist.” The tone of what I what I read often stopped just short of saying we can't elect someone who may start babbling unintelligibly and bring out snakes from behind her desk. And then I found a website that asked the question that led to the title of this post. Her childhood church was described as if it were an unknown cult. Can you say S.T.U.P.I.D? Yes, I am quite offended by such ignorance and stereotyping.

What is happening to us?

I told more than one friend to stop sending emails and telling people that Obama was Muslim. If he identifies himself as a Christian, I might not agree with everything he says, but I’m not going to call him a Muslim and spread it all over the 'net. I did take a look at his book, "The Audacity of Hope" and I was pleased at much I found there. Obama deserves a lot of credit, and admiration, whether you agree with his politics or not.

Now the same goes for Sarah Palin. You don’t have to agree with her political positions. She deserves respect. Can we just give her an ounce of credit for being a smart, savvy, accomplished woman? (Cheers for Dr. Phil who did just that on The Today Show, after admitting he did not yet know who he was going to vote for.)

I’ll tell you the truth. I am gravely concerned about some things connected with Obama and his campaign. And I am not a McCain fan either. Once again, I’ll be going to the polls with consternation—seeing too much on both sides for my comfort. Nonetheless, this is an amazing election. No matter which party wins, it is a historical moment. Race and gender stereotypes are falling in high places.

At least I thought so. Please, let it be so, without regard to which side of the aisle the person sits on--or what denomination they call "home" or what their last name is. Let’s rejoice in the wonder of this time, this rather amazing election process and its unusual protaganists, and let’s stop being so self-righteous and smug and partisan!

I’m going to be a little amazed and excited, no matter who wins. Significant history is in the making! America is changed for the better, and I mean that in a postive, long-overdue way.

And I'm pretty sure Sarah Palin doesn't handle snakes.

Dutch Sheet's Rebuke Regarding Lakeland

Mega-church pastor and Charismatic leader Dutch Sheets has written a sharply reproving letter in which he repents on behalf of the charismatic community.

While I think his letter is correct in many cases, please don't include all charismatic groups, associations or ministries with all Pentecostal denominations. A Pentecostal is a person from a traditional denomination known by that distinction, such as the Assemblies of God, Church of God, Church of God in Christ, Church of the Foursquare Gospel, etc. Those churches, among others, are known as Pentecostal churches. "Pentecostal" does not refer to a denomination. This is similar to saying someone is a Baptist. There are lots of stripes of Baptist denominations.

A "charismatic" may refer to those fellowships or denominations, or someone within those fellowships, but there are also many independent organizations and associations and ministries that are called "charismatic." The term also includes many independent congregations. Thus, "charismatic" an umbrella term that includes classical Pentecostals but also many others.

VERY loosely defined, "charismatic" means a group or a person who affirms and emphasizes the "charisms" or the "gifts" of the Holy Spirit and believes that these gifts did not die out in the first century but are still available to us, and important, today. Within that very broad definition are a lot of different views, both doctrinal and practical.

Have Pentecostals embraced some of the abuses and errors that Sheets (pastor of an independent charismatic congregation) refers to? Some have, and some have not. As I mentioned in the previous post, our leadership issued a statement on revival that was well thought out, wise and balanced. Does that mean everyone heeded it. No.

As for Dutch Sheets, some have included him in statements about the "leadership" over Todd Bentley, but it should be noted that Sheets was asked to be part of the sponsorship of the "Lakeland Outpouring" but declined. I disagree with Dutch Sheets (not that it matters much) on several issues, but I applaud his boldness in issuing a strong rebuke, correction, and an apology.

A few quotes:

“We assume a person’s credibility based on gifts, charisma, the size of their ministry or church, whether they can prophesy or work a miracle....”When a spiritual leader we’re connected with violates trust, is exposed for immorality, or falls below other accepted standards of behavior, it does not exonerate us simply to say we don't condone such behavior. Those we lead trust us to let them know whom to trust. We have failed them miserably in this regard...For this lack of discernment, and for employing and passing on inappropriate standards of judgment, I repent to the Lord and ask forgiveness of the body of Christ...For not accepting and acknowledging our responsibility, for caring more about our own reputation than Christ’s, I repent to God and ask forgiveness of the body of Christ.”

Sheets also blasted the charismatic church’s “incredibly inadequate” accountability, as well as its leadership that has “built on hype, sensation, innovation, programs, personality and charisma.”

He spoke of “shallowness...“novice leaders...gifted but immature and untested,” “a deficient understanding of God’s word,” “self-centered Christians who don’t understand sacrifice and commitment,” “superstar leaders,” and “prayerless and anemic Christians.”

He closed the open letter by saying he thanks God for all those who were touched by the Holy Spirit through the Lakeland Outpouring.

The full text of "A Statement and Appeal Regarding Lakeland "can be found here.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

We are back from MO. Our rear ends are a bit sore from long hours driving home. All in all, it was a really good conference.We heard from several of our AG leaders, all good, and Alton Garrison (our new assistant general superintendent) was terrific and very funny (to my surprise). I am so happy with our present leadership and have great hope for needed fresh perspective and change. One might not think so, considering that our leadership is not young--but their vision, passion, and insight was so refreshing. We were encouraged and challenged. We ate too much southern food. We heard and we sang lots of good music. We did not sleep all that well. Oh yeah, we hung out with chaplains and their spouses. It is always interesting to do that.

The crowd at the AG chaplain's conference is unusual in terms of both genders being represented among the ministers present, racial diversity (black, white, Asian, Pakistani, Hispanic and others), and the banquet is always fun in terms of dress. The military chaplains turn out in their dress uniforms, the rodeo chaplains wear cowboy hats, the biker chaplains wear leather vests and boots--the only ordinary-looking chaplains are usually the health care or corrections people. It is a rather remarkable group of unusual, wonderful, dedicated folks who often are isolated, unheralded and unknown (except to God).

The first night, Ken wore my favorite tee shirt. Hee hee!



We have heard some very interesting comments about this shirt. Just for fun, here are two from a while back--and they are remarkable in how they demonstrate that a woman minister is apparently an impossibility in some minds:

Two young men stood behind us in a restaurant line. They did not realize we could hear them as they discussed the shirt at length. Eventually one said, "Well, I'm just completely confused. Do you think he is saying he's gay?" (This in spite of the fact that the two of us were holding hands.)

A realtor was showing us a model home and she kept glancing at the shirt with obvious puzzlement and curiosity. Finally she asked, 'Uh, so which one of you is the preacher?" I managed not to say, "Did you READ the shirt?"

This trip, someone came up behind Ken and said, "So I take it you aren't Baptist?" LOL! At least that made some sense. (Sorry, all my wonderful egalitarian Baptist buds.)

This picture is me (the round one with her eyes almost closed) and Amy Maxwell (the tiny, young one): wife, mommy of two, seminarian at the Assemblies of God Theological Seminary, blogger, fellow REV GAL, and Army chaplain in the making. Isn't she cute? We ate (sorta) Mexican food at Chipotle and talked for over two hours. We could have talked longer. It was so nice to meet you, Amy! You can visit her at Gentle Whisper.com.

This morning I visited my mom in the nursing home. I took along a vanilla shake, knowing she loves sweets and also knowing that she is growing dangerously thin. She drank the whole thing, but it took about an hour of help and coaxing. I am frightned to see that swallowing is getting almost impossible for her. I'm not really sure she knew who I was. Then I was off to my church office to open mail and answer phone messages. While I was away a single mom and her baby were in a horrific auto accident that could well have been fatal. She blacked out, hit a post, rolled over once or twice and then hit a culvert and flipped end over end three times! The car is totalled, but mom and baby are all right. I hear that yesterday fourteen teenagers headed off to camp, and a phone call today let me know that good things are already happening there.

Thanks be to God--life goes on and among all of it we are assured of the presence of the Holy Spirit.

Oh, I almost forgot! I LOVE my new GPS! Much2Ponder, we will never be lost again! Woo Hoooo!

Worship at the Lake

We had our church service by a lake cottage today, singing worship songs to the strum of an acoustic guitar. The congregation sat on lawn chairs or just on the grass. Frogs and birds joined in the singing.

Oddly, our church building does not have a baptistry. Since we are of the church tradition that baptizes by immersion, this means we either borrow another church space and baptistry, go to a swimming pool, or baptize people in a lake (only a summer option). A baptistry in a church building is good, and both a baptistry and a pool are nice and clean with no weeds or mud. However, there is something about a baptism in a lake that I particularly enjoy--the more natural setting, the sun glistening on the lake water as the congregation stands on the shore to sing, watch, and pray for those being baptized--and it makes me think of the Jordan and John baptizing Jesus as others watched from the banks..

The woman below, Donna, has been taking some classes from Global University, an Assemblies of God correspondence school. Today she preached her first sermon and did a great job, sunglasses and all (she has to wear them outside because of an eye problem.). Some of her relatives were in town for a visit, so it worked out that they could join us for the service.

Bob, Mark, Brienne, me, Patti, Claire, Faith, CJ and Aaron

These eight people standing with me were about to get baptized. What a joy it was to see several of our young people taking this step. I had some help out in the water, becasue it is slippery and because I have a sore shoulder. Only afterwards did it occur to me that it is pretty unusual to have two women baptizing folks.

Brienne is a special blessing to our church family.

As for Patti, this is a truly life-changing moment. Bob, her son, would enter the water soon too.

Mark, our guitar player is another of our wonderful young people.

Steve prays for three of the guys.

Aaron shares with us why he is being baptized, and says he will seek, by God's grace, to live in a way that brings glory to the Saviour.

It was a beautiful day, and God's presence was with us. There were prayers and hugs and tears and much laughter as well. God is good.

Afterwards I changed out of wet clothes and discovered I had two little lake snails with me--one in the right pocket and one in the left!

The Rev. Jesse Jackson is Sorry, but Did He Repent?

I rarely post anything political here, but I can't resist a comment or two. If you have not heard the ruckus, the Rev. Jesse Jackson is in a bit of a pickle because of crude remarks about presidential candidate Barack Obama. He recently commented (in a mic he did not realize was on) "He talks down to Black people. I'd like to rip his n**s off." Some say he said, "out."

With friends like that...well you know the rest.

Jackson has issued the expected apology. He is "sorry" he says, "for harm my remarks might have caused." Obama accepted the apology from Jackson. But a spokesman said Obama would not refrain from calling upon fathers to take greater responsibility in their children's lives.

As for Jackson's apology, he also had this to say on CNN, "And then I said something... regretfully crude but it was very private and very much a sound bite and a live mic."

This is not the first time that Jackson's private mouth has caused him trouble.

In 1984, he called New York City "Hymietown," referring to the city's large Jewish population. He later acknowledged it was wrong to use the term (darn those live microphones!) but said he did so in private to a reporter. Seems he tends to forget that Someone is always listening.

My church family is familiar with me illustrating what it means to "repent" as I march one direction on the platform, then say, "I repent" and turn and march the other way. It is clear that Jackson is sorry--that he mic was on. But does it not remind you of the parental admonition, "It is one thing to be sorry you got caught, and another to change your behavior"? Maybe little Jesse wasn't listening.

Every one of us has said something we wish we had not. I certainly have, more than I like to think about. However, as a very public clergyperson, perhaps Jackson needs to remember Jesus' words in Luke 6:45 "The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks."

Jesse Jackson is often referred to as having been one of a number of young African Americans who were mentored by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. A recent news article called him an "acolyte" of Dr. King. What has he done with that? A national platform comes with responsibility.

Jesse Jackson, Martin Luther King Jr. and Ralph Abernathy

I can't speak for the Black community in America, obviously. But I can speak as one who also has the title "Reverend" in front of my name (though I don't often use it). I cringe that he is always referred to as "the Reverend Jesse Jackson." In my opinion, he is an embarrassment to America and to people of faith, and to Christians, and to clergy. It is time for his microphone to be turned off permanently.

F of H Part Four (there are no more) -- The Stranger in the City

Disclaimer: I do not mean to point any fingers in this post—not at my fellow ministers and certainly not at Central Lutheran. Any finger I point, as they say, would have three pointing back at me. I am sharing the story for two reasons. I think we preachers need to hear what the Minneapolis man said, and I want to give glory to the Holy Spirit, who I suspect arranged the encounter. The names are eliminated, but the conversation is completely real. The picture is not of the dad I met, but it made me smile and think of him. It is for sale here.

Once again, I was walking in downtown Minneapolis among a crowd of Festival of Homiletics attendees between Central Lutheran and Westminster Presbyterian. Conversation surrounded me as I considered whether to attend another session or take a break. My feet hurt. I had unwisely chosen this particular day to wear my cute shoes instead of my braces. I wondered if I would arrive at Central Lutheran early enough to snag one of the rockers in the church hallway for a while. Glancing up to my right at the blossoming apple trees that decorate the entrance to the Minneapolis Convention Center, I sniffed their marvelous aroma.

An African American man who looked about thirty years old was leaning against a large corner flowerpot full of pansies. I figured he was just enjoying the long-overdue spring sunshine. “Hello” I said, smiling, continuing to walk. “How are you on this lovely day?” “I am just fine, ma’am” he replied with a wide smile. Then his expression abruptly changed, and he added, “Lady, can I ask you something?”

“Oh, no. Why did I have to speak to him anyway? Now I will be late for the next session and it will be so crowded I might as well not bother.” That is what I thought. What I said aloud was, “Sure.” I made my way around a group of chatting ministers. The sun was warm on my back, but the rough stone of the cement flowerpot was cool. I repressed a sigh and leaned back, easing my sore toes a bit.

The man inquired, “What is going on down at that big old church? I see lots of folk wearing name tags. Who are all you people?” I explained that we were attending a conference for clergy. “You mean all you people with the name tags are preachers? Like you are from all around Minnesota or something?”

“Well, we are from all around the nation, actually and some from Canada” I replied, feeling rather proud. “Lots of different denominations and kinds of churches, and we are all here to learn how to be better preachers.” He was silent for a long moment. “Preachers?”

“Um, yes, mostly, and church leaders.” I waited.

“What do churches do for people anymore anyway?” he asked, with an angry edge to his voice. I was regretting that I’d spoken to him at all and wondering if I might slip off my shoes. I answered that we share the good news, the gospel, of Jesus with those around us, and that the specifics of what we do for people often varied by denomination, church size, location, and so on.

After several minutes of questions, answers and conversation, he looked unconvinced and said, “Well, I went down to the office at that big church, because I could see it was open. I needed help.” He said this simply, clearly frustrated. He went on to relate that he was a brand-new father with a “lady” he loved. “I know I should marry her,” he said, glancing sideways at me, “And we have been talking about getting back into a church somewhere. I mean, we have a child to think about.” So today I am in trouble and I saw this big church open, and all these people, and I went in. But church doesn’t help.”

“Here it comes” I thought. Well, I’d stopped. Might as well carry it through. I said a quick, silent prayer and asked him, “Why did you want to go into a church?”

“I thought churches want to help.”

“They usually do want to help,” I replied, “But sometimes we are unable to do what we’d like. There are lots of reasons for that.”

“Well all I need is seven dollars! I went to the church office and told them why I needed help, and they said they do not do that. So I came out here, not knowing what to do and feeling ashamed I had already been standing here for more than half an hour when you walked by. My lady is in the Hennepin County Hospital with a brand new baby girl, and I need to get them home. And I am out of gas, and I only need seven damn dollars! Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to swear. I am ashamed I got angry at the office lady up at that church. But now I see all you people, and I’m trying to work up the courage to ask for help. But I am not a beggar. And all these people” he waved his hand, “all walking by and smiling at each other but not at me. And no one even looked at me. Some looked away, or at the ground, or at their friends, or up at the sky. I got to thinking, am I scary looking? Do I look like a druggy or a wino or something? Do I look like I’m gonna rob them? Is it because I am a black man and the preachers are mostly white people?”

By this time the sidewalk was mostly empty. I smiled as I assured my companion that he did not look like a drug addict, a wino or a homeless person, and he did not look particularly frightening. “But you are a stranger” I sad,” and these are scary times, you know?” “Lady, he sad sadly, you are the first person who even looked at me. And then you spoke to me. But you were the only one. It wasn't gonna hurt anybody to smile.”

“I’m sorry.” I did not know what else to say.

“There were these two ladies going by. I guess they were preachers, right?” They saw me, and they were talking, and both of them looked down quickly. They seemed like what they were talking about was really important. One said to the other ‘You have to let your text get down inside of you. You have to feel it and care about it deep inside before you can preach it right!’ You know what I thought to myself? ‘Lady, you don’t even care about people! You need a love for people deep down inside, and maybe then you can love your text.’”

“Ah, that could just as well have been me. It has been me, at other times. I think they probably were just in a hurry. Did you get seven dollars from somewhere else, or do you still need it?”

“No, I was trying to work up the courage to approach someone.”

I fished out my wallet, wishing the sidewalk were not so empty now. I mean, this could all be a ruse and he could grab my purse and run, after all. “Here is ten dollars. I’m running short, or I’d give you a twenty.”

After some more conversation in which I learned about his Jesus-loving mother who had passed on five years before, his lady, his baby and his job loss, I asked his name, and the names of his family. Then I asked if it would be all right if I prayed with him. He eagerly said yes, so I put a hand on his shoulder and prayed quietly (with my eyes open). A few remaining walkers glanced at us. I asked God to help him be the father he should be for his new daughter. I asked for a job for him. I asked for a church home, and that his little family would have divine direction in where that should be. I prayed for the new mother and baby to be healthy. I prayed for God to reveal love and grace that my new friend would know was from God. The muscular shoulder under my hand shook a bit. I thanked God that I had noticed him, that I had smiled and spoken, and that I had ten dollars to share with him.

He looked into my eyes at the end of this prayer.”What is your name?” When I told him, he shook my hand and said, “I thank you. Not just for the money. I thank you for seeing me, for smiling at me, for speaking to me. I think Jesus healed my heart a little bit. I left the church office feeling embarrassed and angry and thinking that I had been mistaken to even think about going back to church. But now I think God sent you by here to show me that some church people do care.”

“I think so too. Jesus loves you, and is waiting for you. God’s plans for you are good, and I know there are people of God somewhere who will welcome you.”

I turned to walk toward the church. He walked with me for a block, heading for the nearby county hospital. “Someday,” he said earnestly, waiting for the traffic light to turn green, “I bet I see you preaching someplace. You could be a great preacher someday at a big place here in Minneapolis maybe, a wonderful lady like you!” I smiled, thinking that if that was going to happen it had better be quick. “I won’t forget your name. It is kind of unusual. And someday,” he said quite seriously, “someday I might say, ‘Hey, that is the smiling preacher lady who gave me ten dollars after the baby came.” He waved, as he stepped into the crosswalk. “Thank you again, Ms. Preacher Lady.”

“You are welcome. Kiss your sweet new baby for me, and tell her mommy I will be praying for all of you.”

Will you take a moment to pray for this young father, his newborn daughter and the baby’s mother?

I did not make it to any more sessions that evening. I was very tired, and it took me a while to absorb the wonder of this experience. Do you suppose an angel was standing on the sidewalk with the frustrated man from the city and the sore-footed small-town pastor as we bowed our heads together?

Remembering Larry Norman

If you note such things, you have already heard that Larry Norman, the so called "Father of Christian Rock Music," passed away a few days ago. He was sixty. Sixty? How strange.

My maiden name was Norman. Partly for that reason I once found myself sitting on the floor in a California church basement with a bunch of other kids, listening in mild amazement to the hippie-type guitar player. He talked and joked in a soft voice and he sang about wishing we'd all been ready, and about walking backwards down the stairs, and being a servant, and (my favorite) the sweet, sweet song of salvation. I think it was 1968.

I had no idea that I, for good or ill, was watching the first part of a revolution in the Christian music world. But I remember saying to those with me, "I have NEVER heard anything like this."
In my world there was a widening variety of popular music. We had crooners like Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra and Doris Day. We all knew about Elvis, even though he was beginning to be a bit of a joke. Everyone liked the smooth vocalizations of Nat King Cole, and the color line was eroding, as far as music was concerned. The Beatles had changed our ideas of chord progressions and the Beach Boys had brought surfer music, and psychedelic music was growing in popularity. And of course there was classical and "easy listening" (boring elevator) music.

However, "Christian" or "religious" music was still narrowly defined. We had books containing hymns and gospel songs. Mostly "white" churches had pianos and/or organs and sang anthems. Mostly "black" churches sang "gospel" and the music had more of a beat. Still, they had pianos and organs, albeit the organs were played quite differently. I had never heard of a worship team or a praise band. I had never seen a guitar played in church, nor drums. For a change we might listen to a "southern gospel" quartet such as The Blackwood Brothers or The Statesmen.

Larry Norman was fascinating. Partly that was so because I just knew he was some sort of distant cousin. He looked very much like my Norman relations. I bought the record album with the blue cover that you will see below. It was clear in the picture on the album that he had the same "Norman family nose" (slight crease) that my dad and my sister and I had. Cool! Even more interesting and astonishing was his music. The music was unlike anything I'd ever heard. Oh, I had heard guitars and folksy stuff, and rock too. But NEVER with lyrics about God or Jesus or salvation or eternity. That was radical indeed. Not far into the future we had the Second Chapter of Acts, Randy Stonehill, Love Song and Petra. But on that summer night in California listening to Larry, we had no idea of what was coming .

Larry's voice could be sweet and light, as when he sang "I am Your Servant" or low and rough-edged. He was quite versatile. I tried to find a clip of "Sweet Sweet Song of Salvation" or one of his more hard-edged music stylings, but this will have to do. Rest in peace, brother Larry. And thank you for broadening our understanding

The Three Tenors

Ah...a relaxing Sunday evening. It had been a long day, and the sky grew dark as I ate some supper and then stretched out on the couch--pulling an afghan up to my chin.

Beyond the picture window a new dusting of snow sparkled on the sidewalk. It was chilly outside, but inside the warmth and the afghan were a relaxing comfort. Patches the cat curled up next to me, purring with contentment.

On television I saw Zubin Mehta begin to cue the orchestra. It is wonderful to see someone who passionately loves what they do. He seems to conduct the orchestra with a sort of exaltation.

Like everyone, I hate Public Television's pledge drives, but I have to admit that the recent offering have included an interesting selection of programming. Earlier this week I enjoyed Eric Clapton's guitar skills...now the soaring voices of Jose Carrera, Placido Domingo and Luciano Pavarotti filled the room.

I confess, I like the later section of the program the best--the one where the three famous tenors sing together and make sure to include more familiar works. I marveled at the ease with which the late Pavarotti sings--making those soaring notes seem easy. I closed my eyes, seeming to float on those glorious voices, savoring the sense of contentment...







CHOMP!


EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!

Patches had chosen that moment to bite HARD on my toe.

Did she know it was my toe? Was she hungry? Was she mad? Confused? For crying out loud, was I bleeding?

Princess Patches sat licking her whiskers and looking aggrieved from the top of the couch, no doubt wondering why I had kicked her so hard.

Darn cat!

Ode to St. Augustine

The good Dr. Platypus made me do it. Sorta. So without further delay, for your reading...um...enjoyment and your spiritual edification, I present this little verse in honor of the life of Church Father, St. Augustine of Hippo.

(SingingOwl looks around nervously, clears throat loudly and taps mike.)


In Honor of St Augustine

St. Augustine of Hippo,
Was quite a fan of Cicero.
He loved his Latin, not his Greek,
But sure did love the ladies.
Oh!

Monica was his mother,
She followed Jesus, no other.
Her son was smart but had no heart,
And pagan ways did beckon,
Oh!

He sought to learn philosophy,
And find a way to be quite free,
The Manicheans sounded right,
The told him “Sin! Why fight?”
Oh!

Augustine went off to Rome,
He taught and wrote and felt at home.
But soon his mistress had a son,
And life turned hard and sad.
Oh!

This man who was quite smart,
Sustained a broken heart.
His mistress gone, but life went on,
Good Bishop Ambrose came.
Oh!

This Ambrose was a reasoned man,
So Augustine did listen.
Could Christians be both smart and good?
Such questions then did come.
Oh!

A garden walk, God’s own sweet voice,
The scriptures showed he had a choice.
“Pick up and read” the voice did say,
He cried as he read Romans.
Oh!

He struggled with his thoughts and lusts,
He found it hard it hard to rest and trust.
A man of many gifts, he was
A man who loved his Lord.
Oh!

Augustine was made a priest,
The Word of God became a feast.
He preached and wrote of grace, and,
A bishop then became.
Oh!

He wrote and wrote and wrote some more,
His volumes are a goodly store.
Though his “Confessions” are quite lofty,
We read them still today.
Oh!

His life proceeded,
God he heeded,
He wrote and preached,
Till dead.
Oh!

To read a brief biography of St. Augustine in a more serious vein, see this post at Aardvark Alley.

Dr. George Wood, the AG General Superintendent Elect

Assemblies of God bloggers have been talking for weeks about the state of our church, the national gathering in Indy, the aging of our clergy, emergent versus traditional church, and so on. A number of younger ministers feel disenfranchised, and not without reason. This was sadly clear during the business sessions.

For now I will say that my heart was heavy at many moments during our General Council, but all in all I am rejoicing. One reason is that Dr. George O. Wood was elected our new General Superintendent. I am thrilled about this. He is not young, and many felt we needed a younger leader, but he is articulate, an excellent expositor of the word, and a man of great humility and kindness as well as intelligence. He is a strong proponent of including women in all levels of church leadership. Here is an article he wrote from a Pentecostal perspective, about women ministers. How refreshing!

I vividly recall his words at a national AG conference for women in ministry in 2001. He stood at the podium and wept, as he said (my paraphrase) "I apologize to you, on behalf of the Assemblies of God, for how we have ignored or negated the callings of a generation of women. I am grieved, and I am sorry."

NO ONE in our top leadership had ever said anything like that! I sensed a great shifting. It was almost physical it was so clear, and I came home and told my daughter, "I was part of something major. I don't know what, but something changed on a deep level during that conference." As another AG blogger commented, "The AG is a big ship, and shifts in direction do not happen quickly." Sigh...but they do come.

I believe Dr. Wood, perhaps most of all the executives, understands the direction of society and the changes that must come in order to more effectively reach a new generation. He has served for some time as the Executive General Secretary, so he is not new to "headquarters," but I believe we did have the direction of God's Holy Spirit in the elections.

Besides, he greatly reminds me of my dad, only with humility! ;-) More later.

Tammy Faye--A Riddle Wrapped in an Enigma

Tammy Faye Bakker Messner has died. Many who see this blog are too young to remember the heyday of the PTL Club. For Pentecostals, we thought (at first) that at long last we were coming up in the world. Long before Tammy Faye became a bad joke, before the shocking revelations, and Jim's prison sentence and the Jerry Falwell takeover, and all the rest, we saw Tammy Faye and Jim as innocents made good.

The PTL Club changed over the years. It's beginning was nothing like it's end. The same was true for Jim and Tammy. The pictures of the two of them in earlier years show two naive, smiling church kids. Amazingly, Jim once called Tammy his "little holiness girl" because she wore no makeup at all.

I heard Jim Bakker speak at an Assemblies of God General Council almost 30 years ago. It was one of the most powerful sermons I ever heard, and I still remember parts of it. How many sermons can you say that about? Sad, isn't it? It was before Jim morphed into a vocal proponent of the "prosperity gospel." (Gag.)

Ken and I almost ended up as part of PTL, back when things looked exciting and many reputable and fine people we personally knew were associated with the Bakkers. Thankfully, we landed elsewhere. Nonetheless, I can remember the Jim Bakker who was young and smiling and had a sweetness about him--with his infectious grin and his 70's mop of hair. We met him briefly. There was a humility about him in those days, an open, friendly warmth. We all loved him. As for Tammy Faye--well--it was hard to know quite what to think.

Later the show got more and more strange and glitzy and unsettling and we simply felt ashamed and I wished Tammy Faye would go away and stop being a big embarrassment to Pentecostals-- and that Jim would go with her.

Watch the You Tube Video. Watch people respond, and watch their hearts melt. There is much I vehemently disliked about the woman, and there was more I just could not comprehend (was the woman insane?) but we have some significant things in common. Please, don't mock poor Tammy Faye now. She was one insecure little woman, so very flawed and so very human, and so very loved by her Savior. My heart goes out to her family and her children, especially to her son, Jay, a most remarkable young minister.

If you want to hear Jim's side of the story, I recommend his fascinating book, "I Was Wrong."

Tammy Faye Bakker Messner Tribute 1942-2007

Thomas Trask to Resign

In some surprising news from our Assemblies of God national office: Thomas E. Trask, general superintendent of the Assemblies of God since 1993, announced that he will step down from office at the 52nd General Council next month..."As a result of seeking the Lord as to His will for my continuing to serve out the remaining two years of the present term, I have reached a decision to step down as general superintendent of the Assemblies of God at this forthcoming General Council that will convene August 8-11, 2007, in Indianapolis," he said. Due to age, it does not seem likely to me that any of our current office-holders will want to fill the top spot. This election could be quite significant in a number of ways. Please pray with me and other AG folks that God's will be done.

Timely Words from Abraham Lincoln

I wanted to post a cheery holiday message, but I found this, and decided to share it instead.We are heading out late Tuesday for a couple of days. Have a safe and happy Independence Day, American friends.

"We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of heaven; we have been preserved these many years in peace and prosperity; we have grown in numbers, wealth and power as no other nation has ever grown. But we have forgotten God. We have forgotten the gracious hand which preserved us in peace and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us, and we have vainly imagined, in the deceitfulness of our hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own. Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace, too proud to pray to the God that made us.” President Abraham Lincoln

These words are from well over a century past, but they seem to me to be so sadly true for the present day.

Gracious God of the Nations,

I realize I can hardly sing "God Bless America." You have already richly blessed us, and we Americans have all too often been prideful, arrogant, and deluded that somehow we "deserve" the special blessing of this rich land and our power and prosperity. May we Americans not be too proud to thank you for our many blessings, to seek you first, and to humble ourselves before you. God, I ask not for blessings, but for your mercy, for right thinking, for compassion, generosity, conviction and strength to do what is right as best we can. Give us the courage and boldness to make the right choice even when it costs us. May we remember the widows, the orphans, the homeless, the prisoners...the least of these among us. May we give to others as if we were giving to you...our time, energy, talent, finances, focus, and passion. Forgive us our sins, O God and grant us mercy and pardon as we seek your Kingdom first. Amen

Imus and the Rest of Us

I am not now, and never have been, a fan of one of the original radio "shock jocks," Don Imus. But I have heard his show once, and I did pay attention to the media storm over his racial/gender slurs and his subsequent firing by CBS. I listened to a snippet of his radio show where he not once, but at least twice, made rather lengthly remarks about how the women of the Rutgers team were ugly, unlike the Tennessee women, who looked good. He followed that up with the "looks like a lot of nappy-headed hos out there" remark...and my mouth fell open in dismay. Nappy headed? Hos?

In my opinion, he deserved to be fired for this unbelievable stupidity, if nothing else. But I soon began thinking about how ironic it is that Imus gets canned for such language while at the same time, rappers who use such epithets, and much worse, win Grammy awards.

I used to work in Milwaukee and spent a fair amount of time driving in the city. Almost every warm day I could hear rap music booming from someones car, music which demeaned every woman, and specifically every black woman. Many times I sat at stop lights and listened to language that graphically insulted a woman who sat in the car (usually in the passenger seat) . I find this inexplicable. However, it is not different than the white girls I used to see sporting Motley Crue or some similar heavy-metal band's T-shirt and I'd wonder, "Girl, do you listen to the insults they are singing about you? Their songs say you are good for banging, and not much else." Once, I actually said that to a girl about 14 with a sad face and lots of eye makeup. Of course, she looked at me as if I was nuts.

This article is excellent, I think, in how it discusses this issue. I am glad that Mr. and Mrs. Imus went to talk with the team, that the coach's pastor was involved, that the coach and the girls are working through this with truely admirable graciousness and "class."

A couple of snippets from the article follow.

“We all know where the real battleground is,” wrote Kansas City Star columnist Jason Whitlock. “We know that the gangsta rappers and their followers in the athletic world have far bigger platforms to negatively define us than some old white man with a bad radio show.”

We have to begin working on a response to the larger problem,” said the Rev. DeForest Soaries Jr., who as pastor of the Rutgers coach helped mediate the Imus imbroglio...the culture that “has produced language that has denigrated women.”

The larger issue was alluded to by CBS President and CEO Leslie Moonves when he announced Imus’ firing: “The effect language like this has on our young people, particularly young women of color trying to make their way in this society ... has weighed most heavily on our minds as we made our decision.”

Some defenders of rap music and hip-hop culture, such as the pioneering mogul Russell Simmons, deny any connection between Imus and hip-hop. They describe rap lyrics as reflections of the violent, drug-plagued, hopeless environments that many rappers come from. Instead of criticizing rappers, defenders say, critics should improve their reality. “Comparing Don Imus’ language with hip-hop artists’ poetic expression is misguided and inaccurate and feeds into a mind-set that can be a catalyst for unwarranted, rampant censorship,” Simmons said in a statement Friday... The superstar rapper Snoop Dogg [said] “(Rappers) are not talking about no collegiate basketball girls who have made it to the next level in education and sports,” he told MTV.com. “We’re talking about hos that’s in the ’hood that ain’t doing ---- that’s trying to get a n---- for his money.” [Speaking of offensive words being offensive no matter whose mouth they are in...but that's another post.]

The Rev. Al Sharpton, among the loudest critics calling for Imus’ termination, indicated that entertainment is the next battleground. “We will not stop until we make it clear that no one should denigrate women,” he said after Imus’ firing. “We must deal with the fact that ho and the b-word are words that are wrong from anybody’s lips. It would be wrong if we stopped here and acted like Imus was the only problem. There are others that need to get this same message.”

I find myself agreeing with Al Sharpton. (Will wonders never cease?) I might have been slightly tempted to think that we really don't need to worry much about this and that Imus' comments were just weird, however I was astounded to learn that (as of this moment) about 67% the respondents to a CBS survey (at the article) believe that he should not have been fired, or that it was "not that big a deal." Excuse me. It IS a big deal to call college women whores.

I read this, elsewhere, "He's a shock jock. He was doing exactly what he gets paid for, so why should he be fired?" Interesting point. Why are "shock jocks" like Imus, and much worse, heard in the first place? What does that say about our culture? But does Snoop Dogg have a point? Does art imitate culture or does culture imitate art, or both? What role does the church play?

The issue neither began, nor should end, with the firing of Don Imus.

It is Lincoln's Birthday

Today is the birthday of Abraham Lincoln--one of the most beloved (and interesting) of America's presidents. Few of our national heroes are as mysterious or enigmatic as A. Lincoln, and you can find "proof" that he was a Christian, that he was not a Christian, that he hated slavery, that he was ambivalent at best about slavery, that he loved his wife, Mary Todd Lincoln, that he did not love Mary Todd Lincoln and was probably homosexual, that he was a wonderful father, that he was a terrible father, and so on.

I find his story remarkable, whatever the truth about the contested parts of his life may be. There is no question that he grew up in obscurity and near poverty, but that he rose to prominence by perseverance and hard work, that he became president after losing numerous prior political races, that he loved his children, that he was an amazing yet humble man, despite his bouts with depression and the challenges of living with a wife who eventually went completely insane. It is in vogue nowadays to trash our national heroes. It is certain that while he affirmed the right of freedom for all, he believed the white race to be superior over the black. But that was hardly surprising in the mid 1800s. I also know Lincoln was undoubtedly a deeply flawed person (as are we all) but I wonder what history would reveal if Fredrick Douglas had won the election?
Guiding the fractured nation during the horrific years of our Civil War -- "The War Between the States" surely is one of the most crushing burdens a head of state can bear, especially for a person of integrity and compassion.

Here are just a few quotes that I find notable.

On Slavery

"Whenever I hear any one arguing for slavery I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally."

"If slavery is not wrong, nothing is wrong. I can not remember when I did not so think, and feel."

"I never knew a man who wished to be himself a slave. Consider if you know any good thing, that no man desires for himself."

"To read in the Bible, as the word of God himself, that "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread," and to preach...'In the sweat of other mans faces shalt thou eat bread,' to my mind can scarcely be reconciled with honest sincerity."

"The slave-breeders and slave-traders, are a small, odious and detested class, among you; and yet in politics, they dictate the course of all of you, and are as completely your masters, as you are the master of your own Negroes."

On God

"In regard to this Great Book, I have but to say, it is the best gift God has given to man. All the good the Savior gave to the world was communicated through this book."

"The purposes of the Almighty are perfect, and must prevail, though we erring mortals may fail to accurately perceive them in advance. We hoped for a happy termination of this terrible war long before this; but God knows best, and has ruled otherwise. We shall yet acknowledge His wisdom and our own error therein. Meanwhile we must work earnestly in the best light He gives us, trusting that so working still conduces to the great ends He ordains. Surely He intends some great good to follow this mighty convulsion, which no mortal could make, and no mortal could stay."

On What is Right

"With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan..."

"The probability that we may fall in the struggle ought not to deter us from the support of a cause we believe to be just; it shall not deter me."

"I believe it is an established maxim in morals that he who makes an assertion without knowing whether it is true or false, is guilty of falsehood; and the accidental truth of the assertion, does not justify or excuse him." (TAKE NOTE, SENDERS OF INTERNET EMAILS!)

"Those who deny freedom to others, deserve it not for themselves; and, under a just God, can not long retain it."

On America

"At what point shall we expect the approach of danger? By what means shall we fortify against it? Shall we expect some transatlantic military giant, to step the Ocean, and crush us at a blow? Never! All the armies of Europe, Asia and Africa combined, with all the treasure of the earth (our own excepted) in their military chest; with a Buonaparte for a commander, could not by force, take a drink from the Ohio, or make a track on the Blue Ridge, in a trial of a thousand years. At what point, then, is the approach of danger to be expected? I answer, if it ever reach us it must spring up amongst us. It cannot come from abroad. If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher. As a nation of freemen, we must live through all time, or die by suicide."

"Our progress in degeneracy appears to me to be pretty rapid. As a nation, we began by declaring that "all men are created equal." We now practically read it "all men are created equal, except Negroes." When the Know-Nothings get control, it will read "all men are created equal, except Negroes and foreigners and Catholics." When it comes to this, I shall prefer emigrating to some country where they make no pretense of loving liberty - to Russia, for instance, where despotism can be taken pure and without the base alloy of hypocrisy."

Just Interesting

"I do not think I could myself, be brought to support a man for office, whom I knew to be an open enemy of, and scoffer at, religion."

"It is said an Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations. They presented him the words: 'And this, too, shall pass away.' How much it expresses! How chastening in the hour of pride! How consoling in the depths of affliction!"

"My friends, no one, not in my situation, can appreciate my feeling of sadness at this parting. To this place, and the kindness of these people, I owe everything. Here I have lived a quarter of a century, and have passed from a young to an old man. Here my children have been born, and one is buried. I now leave, not knowing when, or whether ever, I may return, with a task before me greater than that which rested upon Washington. Without the assistance of the Divine Being who ever attended him, I cannot succeed. With that assistance I cannot fail. Trusting in Him who can go with me, and remain with you, and be everywhere for good, let us confidently hope that all will yet be well. To His care commending you, as I hope in your prayers you will commend me, I bid you an affectionate farewell." (Saying farewell to Springfield, Illinois as he departed for Washington D.C.)

======

We lived in Washington D.C. when our children were small, and a visit to the Lincoln Memorial (night is best!), Ford's Theatre (where Lincoln was assassinated) and to the house across the street where he died were memorable. I also recommend a visit to the Lincoln Home and the Lincoln Museum--and maybe Lincoln's Law Offices too--if you find yourself in Springfield, IL with some time to spend.

Who's That Guy Over There?

Danny G. the Once and Future Methodist, admits in a comment below (to "No Women Need Apply") that he has attended not one but two Beth Moore studies! I am impressed (I mean it) and I applaud your comment, and your "masculinity" my friend! It is true that women attend video studies led by men, but men don't attend those led by women. Not in my experience. Beth M. is a wonderful teacher, and so why is she a "woman's teacher?"

LOUD APPLAUSE FROM UP HERE IN WISCONSIN!

Dr. King was Scary at My House

Hearing about his activities, seeing his face on the news, made me afraid. Isn't that sad?

Today I read Dr. King's famous "Letter from a Birmingham Jail"-- a letter written in response to the criticism of several well-meaning churchmen. I'll print just a short couple of excepts a little further down in this post. The reading jogged memories of a 13-year-old me, a girl caught between two worlds, seeking like all teenagers to find my own beliefs, my world view, my personal conception of "how things ought to be."

If you have read this blog before you might recall that I sprang from Texas roots. But we lived in California. In 1963 California and Texas were very different places. I am not saying California had no racism. That would be far from the truth. But there were, nonetheless, some stark contrasts.

In my California childhood I attended a racially mixed school and I lived in a neighborhood that was beginning to include Asians, Hispanics and blacks as neighbors. I was friends with girls of several ethnic backgrounds. We had a bumper sticker on our car that read, "Good Neighbors Come in All Colors" because we knew, in our heads, that it was true. In Texas the line that divided "ni--er town" from the white section was invisible but known to all. The non-whites attended their own churches, ate in their own restaurants and kept mostly to themselves. They were not allowed to swim in the municipal pool--something that distressed me deeply for some reason. I saw the "whites only" signs and I did not understand them. I was never one to keep questions to myself. I asked about the pool, understanding that it was unjust and foolish to keep someone out of a public pool on a steaming hot Texas day because they were browner than I was. I asked why the negro families lived in only one part of town. I asked why my cousins used words I was no