In Need of an “Until Moment”

Psalm 73 is one of those psalms that ought to be read often. It has such a contemporary ring to it that one would be hard pressed to think the words of the psalm weren’t written directly to our age and culture.

At the center of the psalm are these words: “But when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I perceived their end.” (Psalm 73:15,16, NRSV)

The words of Psalm 73 are ascribed to Asaph, who seems to be a man who had been faithful to God, but not rewarded; and a man who sees himself surrounded by faithless people who seem to have it all. The idea that wicked people would be prosperous causes him to question the idea that God is just.

After boldly declaring that the wicked always seem to be at ease and increasing in riches (73:12) he sound a bit like the author of Ecclesiastes in declaring “all in vain I have kept my heart clean and washed my hands in innocence. All day long I have been plagued, and am punished every morning.” (73:13,14, NRSV)

It seems to me that the phrase “until I went into the sanctuary of God” is crucial. At its minimum, that phrase must suggest something about the importance of the worship of God. The text doesn’t say if the psalmist received some special revelation from God, but it could have simply been a word he heard from a priest in the Temple finally got his attention. Whatever happened – it surely happened in the midst of worship.

After his “until moment,” the psalmist changes tunes completely. He ends the psalm with phrase like “my flesh and my heart may fail, but god is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (73:26) and “but for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge, to tell of all your works.” (73:28)

One of the things that makes me value the relevance of this psalm so much is how often struggle in life becomes the excuse for not worshipping. Asaph seems headed in that direction – only to discover that it was only in the context of confronting the presence of God in worship – “until I went into the sanctuary of God” – that he gained a new and much better perspective about life.

Jump forward in time a few centuries and you will discover the author of Hebrews encouraging his readers by these words: “And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” (Hebrews 10:24,25, NRSV) Oddly enough, those words precede a paragraph later in the chapter when he reminds them that life is sometimes difficult – but even in the difficulties we face, there is no need to “abandon that confidence of yours; it brings a great reward.” (10:36)

These are hard times for lots of folks – maybe even most folks. Perhaps our own “until moment” would help us!

The Move

I can remember conversations at least 30 years old where the trustees of what is now Point University wondered whether or not our East Point campus was the right place for what we knew then as Atlanta Christian College to grow into the college we all dreamed about. At some level, the reality of the move that surrounds me at work today – my office is even more a wreck than usual! – should not be all that surprising.

But it was only about five years ago that the moment of reality that characterizes this week became a firm decision. But even then, the process has been a long one, and the tanking of the global economy slowed down what had been a firm and unanimous decision on the part of the trustees. 

About 18 months ago the big announcement said that Atlanta Christian College would become Point University and that the new home for the traditional program would be West Point, Georgia. By the time the announcement was made, the senior leadership team had toured the former international headquarters for a textile conglomerate, the apartment complex where students would live, all sorts of athletic facilities, and anything else that might potentially be a part of Point University’s new home.

Initially, we thought we would be “leaving East Point,” but the huge blessing of an adult degree program known as Access meant that the old East Point campus would become an off-site location for Point University with some 600 students and room to grow. The renovation of some of the space in East Point has already begun! But that’s not all! In addition to the East Point location, Point University would arrive in West Point with campuses in Peachtree City and Savannah – and more to come in the future. 

It is nearly incomprehensible – except for the fact that God is clearly a part of it all – to think that six years ago, we were a small, struggling Christian college with an excellent faculty but struggling to keep enrollment steady, much less growing. Now – and God gets the glory in this – we have some 1300 students on four campuses. The commitment to transform the world through the integration of faith into every academic discipline is more intentional than ever and we are graduating students who, regardless of their vocational goals, have been taught that the ideal of “the priesthood of all believers” applies to business leaders as well as preachers; school teachers as well as youth ministers; and counselors as well as worship leaders. We all, in that sense, are “missionaries” who are determined to change the world. 

But – there is that inevitable tug of the heart strings when you see moving vans on campus and know that by noon on 14 June 2012, your office is supposed to be packed and ready for the move to West Point. Let me explain.

Between 1969 and 1973, I spent nine months of each year on this campus. I lived in Roberts Hall four years, ate many meals in the old Head Hall Dining Room, attended class in Old Main, or in “the Greek Room” on the lower end of Alumni Hall. I went to chapel twice a week (we weren’t brave enough back then to miss too often) in what was then Westside Christian Church and ate enough “Small KC Steaks” at Wingo’s on Campbellton Road to explain my elevated cholesterol readings today. 

It was in those years that I met people who would be life-long mentors. Orval Morgan taught me something about the dignity of preaching; Ralph Warren taught me how to write better; Roy McKinney taught me more than I can put on paper; and Jim Evans helped me fall in love with Greek and interpreting Scripture. Jim Redmon was a model of quiet, but steady leadership and Denver Sizemore taught us all that you need to take good notes.

I also met the best thing (other than Jesus) that has ever happened to me during those years. Vicki Kindt and I were freshmen together in 1969 and while she tends to dismiss my story as apocryphal, I picked her out in the “freshman orientation” line. Later this summer we will celebrate 39 years of marriage. Had it not been for the East Point campus of Atlanta Christian College, it seems unlikely that a little country boy from rural South Carolina would have ever met, much less married, the accomplished musician from St. Petersburg, Florida.

All of that doesn’t begin to describe my attachments to this place. Since June, 1976 I have been on this campus on a nearly daily basis. Even in the twenty years I spent as preacher at First Christian in College Park/Tyrone, I taught at least a class every semester and most often a summer school class. I’ve been to basketball games, soccer games, volleyball matches, student events, recitals, concerts, and who knows what else – all right here on this campus. 

I’ve taught Biblical Interpretation (once known with the lovely sounding title Hermeneutics and Exegesis) every fall for 36 years – and sometimes in the spring semester as well and in almost every summer school. Theological Foundations for the Christian Life (once known as Christian Doctrine) has been my class since the early 1990s and a host of other theology and New Testament related courses have been taught by me in these classrooms. 

Here – on this campus – I’ve met a student or two I could have killed – but a boat load or two I would die for. It was on this campus that I met young men and women who allowed me to invest in their lives and who are now serving God all over the world. I’ve even been able to teach hundreds of students in the adult program – whose commitment to serving Christ always manages to remind me of the privilege of teaching.

So . . . how could I not feel just a bit weird today when, walking from the weekly meeting vice presidents have with the president, I walked past a moving van loading up “stuff” to take to West Point?

Yet – just last Tuesday Vicki and I took two very good friends – friends we met on this campus for the first time – and walked through the nearly-complete Academic Center and then drove around to all the Point University facilities that are being readied for August of this year. It is, in a word, unbelievable. I have said to lots of people “it’s too nice to be a Christian college!” 

The potential for Point University – not only in West Point, but in East Point, in Peachtree City, in Savannah, and in all the other places where we will establish kingdom outposts where kingdom people can be educated to do kingdom things – is amazing. It is so amazing that it seems impossible to me that anyone could look at what is happening and not thing “this is of God!”

I won’t lie and say I don’t have attachments to this East Point campus. Fortunately, my role as vice president for spiritual formation and dean of the chapel, as well as teaching in the Access program, means I will be back on campus in East Point on a regular basis. I’m thankful that what we initially thought about “moving” evolved into “relocating the traditional campus” and not simply “moving.” I’m thankful that relocating the traditional program gives the adult program room to grow. I’m thankful that our traditional campus in West Point will give us room to grow. I’m grateful that the expansion of what we offer gives us more opportunity to influence the current generation to become “kingdom people doing kingdom things” all over the world.

I don’t know what else to say about this week than to simply say “I’m grateful – moving pains and all – for what God is doing on these campuses!”