Happy Thanksgiving!

"No one is perfect -- not even me." This was California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger's reaction to photos of his car illegally parked in Beverly Hills. It's good to see that humility is alive and well.

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Today many of you will be on the road. Drive safely. And have a WONDERFUL Thanksgiving. My prayer is that as we journey together through life, we will come to the place in which our lives are lived out of a constant awareness of gratitude. I am becoming more aware in my own life that this is the only environment in which the fruit of the Spirit -- love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control -- can flourish.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Homecoming

Yesterday was a rich day for Beverly and me. We were able to return to our 1st full-time ministry in Crockett, Texas to be a part of their 40th anniversary. The worship was great! I taught during the Bible class hour, and my son Josh hit a grand slam during the worship hour.

We served in Crockett from 1988 to 1993. Only 5 years. But it is incredible how deeply that 5 years impacted us. I made deep friendships there. When we occasionally go back, there are 3 guys in particular that are such good friends that when we see each other, it's like we just pick up from the last time.

I wish I had mentioned to the church yesterday about an "ah-ha" I have had. When I was in Crockett as a young, wet-behind-the-ears preacher, there was another preacher in town who was mean, who did not mind slandering people in public -- but who claimed to be the protector of "the truth." He made all kinds of false accusations about me, and I must admit that it really bothered me then. His tag line was, "Do I make you mine enemy because I tell you the truth?"

At that time, I was also a legalist -- thinking that what was REALLY important was what we did during our hour of worship each week, church organization, etc. It's just that my legalism and his were a little different.

Here is my point: Many in Crockett still feel badly for the way he treated me. But I have come to see that it is one of the most important events in my spiritual journey. I was headed down a path in which I could have ended up being somewhat like him. I don't think I could have ever been as mean and dishonest as he was -- but I could have been as "zealous" in my misplaced gospel. But seeing him and how UNLIKE Christ he was brought me to a crossroads. It made me realize that what the gospel is about is not those things that I had made of primary importance. The gospel is about a loving God extending His unbelievable grace to me. It's about me being allowed to journey with Him through life -- allowing Him to complete His work of transformation in me. To what goal? To become like Jesus. To be filled with the fruit of the Spirit -- love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Qualities that are amazingly absent in the lives of people who pursue legalism.

God works in mysterious, unexpected ways to get our attention. And looking back on those times, I am SO glad He got mine.

Great American Smokeout.

Today is the "Great American Smokeout." I look back with interest at the ways in which our culture has changed throughout my life -- some things for the worse, and some for the better. When I was a kid, smoking was common. Between Bible class and worship on Sunday, the entrance into the church building would look like Indians sending up smoke signals. Many was the person that had that deadly combination of early-morning-coffee-cigarette-smoke-breath (Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about!).

As Beverly and I were cleaning the kitchen the other night, there was an old "Andy Griffith Show" on. Andy was relaxing and smoking, and Beverly went, "Wow." Seeing that now just seems strange. But that was once the norm.

I truly don't think smokers realize that their habit is so hard to hide. The smell lingers on them and anyone close to them. I used to not realize that. Having parents who smoked, everywhere I went I carried that smell. It seemed to especially cling to my clothes and my hair. Now my nose can pick up a smoker from a distance.

It's funny to me how different tobaccos smell so differently. Cigarettes stink to me -- but some more than others. I don't know if the difference is in whether they are menthol or if it is just differences in brands. But I like the smell of some cigars. And I enjoy the smell of a pipe. My granddad used to smoke a pipe -- cherry blend. The aroma still holds good memories for me. I'm sure the 2nd-hand smoke is no better for my lungs whether it is from good smelling cherry-blend tobacco or a stinky cigarette.

While I recognize people in our country have the right to smoke, there are times I wish they would be more considerate of those around them. There is an old saying: "Your rights end where my nose begins." Perhaps that is never so true as it is with cigarette smoking.

I wish every smoker who wants to quit the best of luck today. To give up cigarettes is to add years to your life -- more years to love your kids and grandkids. More years to give to living out the Christ-life. And it is also to live more healthily.

The Reality of War

I am watching the documentary series on World War II that is showing on the History Channel this week. As I watch it, I wonder what MY life would have been like had I been born 40 years earlier? How would I have dealt with the sacrifices that were made domestically? What kind of soldier would I have been? What would I have done if I had been on the 1st wave to hit Omaha beach -- or Okinawa?

I find myself becoming more and more of a pacifist as I grow older. I no longer argue in favor of the death penalty. It seems that life without parole is a better alternative. And I don't think that just because our country enters a conflict -- that makes it right or justified. But I just can't see any way around us getting involved in World War II. And as I watch this show and consider the MASSIVE casualties -- 5,000 young men killed in single battles -- I wonder how people today would react.

We owe a great debt to those men and women who sacrificed through the 40s to defeat the oppressors.

The Aroma of Messiah

I have started a new book: Sitting at the Feet of Rabbi Jesus, by Ann Spangler and Lois Tverberg. The book's goal is to take us back to our Jewish roots -- and the Jewishness of our Messiah.

One story, whether perfectly accurate or not I can't know, captured my imagination in a powerful way. As the authors relate the story of Mary anointing Jesus' feet only days before His crucifixion, they give us some interesting perspective:

By anointing him with expensive fragrances, Mary may well have been making a statement about who she believed Jesus was, proclaiming him as Messiah. In fact, the Hebrew word for Messiah is Mashaich, which literally means "the Anointed One." Hebrew kings were anointed with sacred oil perfumed with extremely expensive spices

. . . The marvelous scent that it left behind acted like an invisible "crown," conferring an aura of holiness on its recipients.

They then note the similarities between Solomon's "anointing" and entry into Jerusalem (1 Kings 1: 38-40) and Jesus' anointing by Mary and subsequent entry into Jerusalem.

But here is the part that captured me: Everywhere Jesus went during the final days of his life he had the fragrance of royalty. Jesus smelled like a king. Imagine, in the garden of Gethsemane, as Judas and the guards approached Jesus to arrest him, the guards must have sniffed the air and wondered who stood before them. When Jesus was on trial, mocked, whipped, and stripped naked, even then the aroma may have clung to him.

The authors then note how this gives a whole new slant to Paul's words about us being "the aroma of Christ (the ANOINTED One) in 2 Corinthians 2: 14-16. As Jesus' followers, we spread the fragrance of our anointed Messiah everywhere we go.

WIsh I Had Read It 30 Minutes Earlier

Today is Veterans' Day. In recent weeks as Beverly has been gone on retreats and "keeping the grandkids" gigs, I have rented dvds of the miniseries "Band of Brothers." It is the true story of a group of soldiers from one of the most honored units in American history. They fought at D-Day, through France, and held their line in the Battle of the Bulge. They secured Hitler's fortress mansion at the close of the war.

Something that really struck me was at the end, one of the soldiers became very depressed and despondent because he HAD survived. There was something within him that felt guilty because he was going home. It was very moving.

We owe these men and women so much!

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I wish I had read this exerpt yesterday BEFORE I had posted my blog. I struggle between a fleshly response to terrorism, etc -- and a Christlike response. This is from M. Scott Peck:

I cannot be any more specific about the methodology of love than to quote these words of an old priest who spent many years in the battle: "There are dozens of ways to deal with evil and several ways to conquer it. All of them are facets of the truth that the only ultimate way to conquer evil is to let it be smothered within a willing, living human being. When it is absorbed there like blood in a sponge or a spear into one's heart, it loses its power and goes no further."

The healing of evil -- scientifically or otherwise -- can be accomplished only by the love of individuals. A willing sacrifice is required . . . I do not know how this occurs. But I know that it does . . . Whenever this happens there is a slight shift in the balance of power in the world.

We ourselves in recent history have seen this truth embodied in Martin Luther King, Jr, Nelson Mandela, and Alexander Solzhenitsyn.

This from Philip Yancey: "The cross redefines God as One who was willing to relinquish power for the sake of love. Jesus became, in Dorothy Solle's phrase, "God's ultimate disarmament." Power, no matter how well-intentioned, tends to cause suffering. Love, being vulnerable, absorbs it. In a point of convergence on a hill called Calvary, God renounced the one for the sake of the other."

Unfortunate Information from Fort Hood

Well, my concerns about Nidal Malik Hasan are daily becoming more affirmed. This is definitely an issue that I wish I could not say, "I told you so." The tragedy is multiplied as we are discovering that the FBI has been onto him for quite some time. There HAS to be something that they can do in a preemptive way! I know their hands are tied until he actually does something. And I certainly don't want the United States to become a police state. Anyone have any answers?

Today the execution is set for John Allen Muhammad, who went on a killing spree in 2002 that left 10 confirmed dead -- and maybe as many as 17.

I am disturbed about this. As a nation, we think that if we just ignore the problem, it will go away. We did the same thing in World War 2 with Hitler.

Yet, if you study the Eastern world view of Muslims, it's not going away. They are very patient -- realizing that their goals may not be reached in their lifetimes. It's about what is best for the community.

Americans want to believe that Islam is a religion of peace. And we are SO into beating ourselves up right now (especially Christians). Sure, we have done some things poorly in history. The Crusades were an ugly chapter, but even those were ugly on both sides. The sad thing is that "Christians" ever became involved in a "Holy (?) War" in the 1st place.

Yet I challenge anyone to just look around the world. Who is primarily providing clean water and food and medical help to the poor? Christians. And where are the large majority of trouble-spots in the world today? In Islamic nations.

When Islam becomes the majority in a country, religious freedoms are denied. People of other religions are persecuted, tortured and/or killed. Citizens are repressed. Peace? It only happens in an Islamic nation if people become slaves to the repressors. I know of no exceptions.

I know this seems to be a huge issue with me. It is . . . and it isn't. I don't obsess about it. But when things in the news pop up, I do THINK about it. And I do want us to get our heads out of the sand.