For the Point University Class of 2020

Here we are. This is being written on the last day of the Spring 2020 Semester and I haven’t seen you in person for something like seven or eight weeks. Even more importantly, you all haven’t been able to see your classmates, teammates, best friends, and a host of other relational descriptors for that time either. Hopefully you would include some great faculty members, coaches, and staff in those “relational descriptors” as well. 

This is not how your final semester of college was supposed to end!

But it did.

Now what?

I want to answer the “Now what?” question by first encouraging you to be grateful for those in places of leadership at Point. I promise you that we didn’t move from in-seat, regular routine to online, no routine just to have something to do. And graduation didn’t become virtual instead of more communal because of a lack of courage on the part of Point leaders. 

I’ve been a part of Point longer than most, if not all, of the 2020 graduates have been alive. In those 43 years we have faced lots of difficult moments and survived. This particular moment may be the most difficult of all of those moments – but it isn’t the first, and not likely to be the last time we face serious challenges. I’m confident God wants us to survive.

Point is moving carefully in these unique moments. Please don’t confuse “caution” and insistence upon reviewing all the options as “hesitation borne of fear.” And please don’t confuse groups – unfortunately some “Christian groups” – who move recklessly and call that courage. 

You would likely be surprised at how many people have participated in countless zoom meetings over the past seven or eight weeks in order to determine the best path forward. A reckless leader might simply say “we are back to normal by mid-summer.” A courageous leader will say, “let’s make the best decision we can – with God’s help – to lead Point into its next opportunity to be a kingdom outpost impacting our culture for Christ.

There is something like 200 people graduating Saturday morning. I can remember when we didn’t have 200 students, total! But God has greatly blessed Point with authentic kingdom leadership and He has obviously blessed that kind of leadership with fruitful, fulfilling opportunities “to educate students for Christ-centered service and leadership throughout the world.”

Leaders whose vocabulary is exhausted with the word “successful” have yet to read Scripture well. “Fruitful” is a better word. It won’t always be the same as our culture’s definition of “successful,” but it will always reflect the heart of Jesus. Leaders who can only talk of “happiness” and “wealth” and “health,” are equally unfamiliar with Scripture. “Fulfillment” and “significance” are much better words.

None of that is to suggest we should be comfortable as “failures” and “miserable,” but it is to suggest that in the coming new world, we have an amazing opportunity to change the conversation of a culture that has pursued “stuff” at the expense of “life” in ways that have failed us. 

What if the 2020 graduates of Point University determined that they will take seriously the call of Jesus to follow Him and decide that things like feeding the hungry, giving water to the thirsty, welcoming strangers, clothing the naked, visiting the sick, taking care of the prisoners, and such “fruitful” and “fulfilling” are more important than the “stuff” our culture has pushed us toward? (Matthew 25:31ff.)

One of my favorite things about graduation is to take pictures with students either before or after the ceremony.  We can’t do that this year. That’s sad.

But . . . once we get beyond “social distancing” and “shelter in place” – everyone one of you can come to West Point and ask your professors to take pictures with you. I’ll even bring my academic regalia if that would make you happy!

On this “commencement-eve” as we think about what might have been tomorrow morning at 11:00 a.m., let me encourage you to think about “what can be, not just tomorrow, but for eternity.” God has great options for each of you – it’s just a matter of stepping up to the plate and swinging the bat!

God bless each of you. I’m so grateful that I’ve been a part of Point while you were a student. Some of you have spent lots of time in class with me, many haven’t. But I promise you – your presence at Point has been a blessing and opportunity for me.

May God richly bless you as you step into a new world of opportunity tomorrow morning about noon time!

Don’t confuse “courage” with recklessness,” and don’t confuse “caution” with cowardice. You’ve had great models at Point. Look at them. Follow their lead.

[Not every Point graduate follows me on social media, so if you see this, please forward to your friends!]

Earth Day 2020 - The 50th Anniversary

Today, 22 April 2020, is the 50th anniversary of Earth Day. This is a spot on our calendar where there is a global call to pay attention to the planet upon which we live. For some, it is little more than a selfish desire to make sure we have a safe place to live - today and into the future. For others, it may have no particular faith-related connotations, but is a kind of respect for creation that Paul seems to suggest as appropriate in Romans 1.

But for others - and I would include myself and lots of other believers - it is an opportunity to model the kind of behavior that the Creation accounts in Genesis 1 and 2 suggest appropriate for humans. Lots of English verbs get used in translating the Hebrew words into our language, but when all is said and done, it seems fair to say that God's intentional purpose at creation was that we humans - His image bearers to creation - were to care for, manage, use appropriately, be stewards of, and - well, just "take care of creation." The place where He was comfortable coming down in the cool of the evening for conversations with His image bearers.

A number of years ago I was a member of the Rotary Club in my town. One of our quarterly projects was to pick up litter on a two-mile stretch of the what might be viewed as "Main Street" though it was named something else.  We would meet early on Saturdays, get brightly colored orange vests from the local police, and divide into teams and pick up litter. As a side note, one very properly Christian member of our club would never participate because, in his words, "Someone might think I was being punished for DUI because of those vests!"

One member of our club, I'll just call him Sam for the sake of privacy, always wanted to be my partner. Sam was one of those people who desperately wanted to have a good relationship with God, but never seemed to be able to pull it off. He had a PhD in forensic toxicology. He called me "Preacher," and I knew once a quarter, early on Saturday morning, wearing a vest that at least to one member made me look like a DUI guilty person, I would have a couple of hours of great theological conversations based on Sam's questions.

One morning, after picking up beer bottles galore, no-good lottery tickets, convenience story hot dog wrappers, and about any kind of trash you can think of, Sam said, "Preacher, I know who throws this stuff out."

I quickly replied, "Tell me who, and let's go talk to them. We could avoid these Saturday morning litter details."

He said, "No, I'm serious, I think I know."

I said, "Tell me."

He said, "It's those so-called Christians who go to the school board and complain about high school biology and evolution, but don't give a damn about taking care of what they say God made."

That was, for me, a stunning moment. I could put some names on the very people he was describing. It was a convicting moment. How could the very people who claim God created the heavens and the earth care so little about taking care of it?

Obviously not all believers fit that description. But if any believer fits that description, we who deeply believe God is creator should do our best to convince that person that if that is true, then together we image bearers of God in creation need to work to be good stewards.

We're obviously at a strange moment on this particular Earth Day. In some places, other than staying in place, about the only thing you can do is to go outside and marvel at creation.

So . . . on this 50th anniversary of Earth Day, why not go outside, take a slow, observant walk, and just marvel at the incredibly amazing way God made the Earth/Creation to function.

Remember, "the heavens declare the glory of God." Don't let my friend Sam's evaluation of why we litter to be true of you!

I Can't Explain Him

It’s springtime in the south, and in a normal year our hot topic might very well be tornadoes.  It seems as though every spring horrific tornadoes pop up when a cold front comes rushing south to push down the “warmer than normal” temperatures.  Inevitably we will see stories on the national and local news outlets about destruction, death, and general mayhem left in the wake of killer storms.

Tornadoes have odd patterns. Sometimes the video images we see after the storm will have one house utterly destroyed and a house next door seemingly untouched. How does that happen? A few weeks ago, my wife and I spent a few days on Florida’s “forgotten coast” where Hurricane Michael hit as a level four storm in October 2018. We could still see tons of damage. But what was obvious was that in a variety of places many houses, businesses were destroyed, while some survived nearly intact. How does that happen?

I suppose a good conversion with a well-educated meteorologist could explain all kinds of principles from the world of weather, maybe physics as well, that would help answer that question. It is also possible that the smartest of the meteorologists might also say, “we don’t know everything about how these storms work.”

While walking around the town of Port St. Joe on the forgotten coast, I noticed that the beautiful, traditional looking First Baptist Church was still unusable. The steeple was on the ground at the front entrance and the roof of the sanctuary was on the floor. But a little further down the street, less than a mile, the Methodist Church in Port St. Joe, right on St. Joseph’s Bay, seemed to have suffered much less damage and was being used regularly. 

That isn’t unlike what you often hear on the news after a tornado rumbles through a southern or mid-western neighborhood like a freight train wreaking destruction all over the place. But you almost always see destruction abutting no damage. In these cases, you often hear people declaring “God saved my house, my possessions, my life . . .” But what about the people next door? Did God not care about them? In the remarkable question the disciples ask Jesus in John 9, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (ESV)

Or in the case of First Baptist and First Methodist in Port St. Joe – “did the Baptists sin worse since their church building’s damage was more catastrophic?”

Or in the aftermath of Alabama tornadoes, “Did my next-door neighbor sin worse because her house was destroyed and her children killed and mine weren’t?”

The way it comes out far too often is “I’m so glad God blessed me and my family,” while the next-door neighbor can only wonder about a God who randomly blesses one family and ignores the other, right next door.

I’m not doubting God’s sovereignty over the world. I’m not doubting the power of prayer. I’m not doubting my own need to pray – I pray daily and often for lots of things, including the safety and blessing of God on my wife and children.  I’m not even doubting that God has blessed and protected us in important ways over the years. Specifically, right now I’m praying that God will help us avoid Covid-19. But I’m confident that the pastor’s wife who died yesterday of what seems to be Covid-19 was praying similarly to me.

The real question isn’t “can or does God bless us?” Rather the real question is “how do I talk about the blessing of God without sounding like the disciples who assumed ‘someone sinned’ in the case of the man born blind?”. Or to put that another way, “Can I talk about God’s blessing without sounding as though people who don’t experience this blessing must be sinners with more tragic records than I have with God?”

To put this whole issue in current perspective, assuming I am not afflicted with the corona-virus, don’t become ill with Covid-19, and live to tell the story – how can I tell the story in a way that doesn’t make people who have loved ones who can’t tell that story, even more frustrated with God?

The problem is, as is true so often in theological thinking, we allow our western, Enlightenment’s focus on individualism to become the focus. When that happens, my prayers become more selfish, my testimony becomes more ego-centric, and God becomes something like personal property. When my prayers aren’t answered as I instructed God, I’m frustrated. When they are answered as I instructed, “look how spiritual I am.”

I know this current cultural crisis won’t go on forever. (At least I think I know that!) What I hope is that those of us who trust in God’s providential care won’t talk about that care in ways that turn off others to Him. But the more self-centered our comments will be, the more likely that will be the outcome.

As a follower of Jesus, I am not so much called “to explain” God as I am “to trust” God. If I can explain Him, of what need would I have of Him? (See Romans 11:33-36)

That trust has convinced me (2 Timothy 1:12) that a day is coming when He will, once and for all, make all things right. In my head, Genesis 2 will be come our eternal story. In the meantime, life is going to be impacted with the Genesis 3-11 story. But I can’t forget that the resurrection of Jesus put some serious limits on the power of sin and death – the “strong man” as been tied up. (Mark 3:27) So despite some “momentary and light afflictions,” I anticipate an “eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.” (2 Corinthians 4:17)

Today I want to celebrate the good stuff and lament the not-so-good stuff. I want to celebrate and lament in ways that point others to God, not away from God.

 

The challenge is, how can we manage to do that?

I’m confident I don’t know the full answer to that question. But my prayer about my own witness is that like the well-educated meteorologist who likely would say “we don’t know everything about how tornadoes work,” I will have the courage to say, “I don’t know everything about how God works.”

God save us from those who won’t say that!

Willow - Queen of the Sad Eyes

Earlier this week I went with my younger daughter, Bethany, to the emergency vet hospital in Fayetteville with her dog, and our granddog, Willow. She was pretty sick. The vets at the emergency hospital were hopeful, kind, and encouraging.

Later in the week I went with Bethany to her regular vet, Willow was most likely sick beyond recovery. I sat in the room as the vet, an extraordinarily kind and compassionate professional, and my daughter agreed that we were at the end of the struggle. Peacefully Willow left this world for the next world - a world that Scripture itself describes with remarkable ideas about the relationship between humans, created in the image of God, and all other creatures made by God

Willow was a rescue dog. Bethany,and her husband Chad, rescued Willow about ten years ago. She was a mix of who knows what - perhaps Jack Russell and something else - and snow-white in appearance. As the title of this post suggests - she was "queen of the sad eyes."

As a rescue dog, Willow wasn't fond of all humans, and especially humans who drove white cars. If you were outside with her and a white care passed by, you needed to make sure you had a firm grip on the leash. Someone in the past had clearly abused her, and they must have driven a white car.

Some would say, "She was just a dog." But I would say, even as a "dog" she modeled a sense of God's intentional purpose at creation that her first "owners" failed to model in significant ways. The biblical idea that humans are created in the image of God shouldn't make us think that all other creatures are merely at our disposal. If the truth be told, Willow modeled God's intentional purpose at creation in ways far better than the sub-human morons who first abused her.

Willow loved creation. She may be the only creature I've ever met who thought being outside was the greatest of gifts more than I do. Just say the world "let's go for a walk" and Willow was in high gear, ready to go. She adored looking outside, and being outside, and smelling outside.

During the winter months, I don't think I know a human who better enjoyed a fire in the fire place. In all honesty, the pleasure in Willow's eyes for a fire in the living room was more than worth the money I paid for the fire wood every winter.

Her heart, pancreas, who who knows what else finally gave out last weekend. She was our "grand dog" for about ten years. For about five of those ten years, she lived close by. She was, as the title suggests, "queen of the sad eyes." You just couldn't look at her and not realize that she saw stuff the rest of us ignore. But those sad eyes could quickly turn to eyes filled with joy and thanksgiving at being in the company of others who loved her.

Bethany and Chad chose well when they picked Willow to be a part of their family. Vicki and I, and "Aunt Sarah" were blessed by the sweet, loving, and penetrating eyes of Willow. While I would have rather been anywhere else in the world than in a vet's office as Willow's life ended - in great mercy and compassion - I wouldn't take anything for the blessing of having known her as one of my "grand dogs."

Creatures made by God are special. Just read the Bible for crying out loud. I hope one day to see Willow - along with other special creatures in my life - in an eternal, renewed and restored creation that measures up to what God intended in the first place.

Here's my favorite picture of Willow.



Thank you Lord, for making creatures like Willow. They bring blessings beyond measure if we just pay attention.