Dead Skunk (Possum, Squirrel, Armadillo) in the Middle of the Road

I tend not to notice roadkill until it’s too late.

I’ll be driving merrily along, and I’ll feel that little bump from running over something that’s already dead.

If my Good Wife is a passenger in the car I’m driving, she’ll cringe when I run over a dead animal. Kindly and gently, she’ll say, “I started to tell you it was in the road, but I figured you’d see it.”

This has happened many times. You’d think that by now, she’d realize her figuring is off.

Actually, I think she has figured it out. The last time it happened, she observed, “I think you’re good at noticing what’s way up ahead, but not so good at seeing what’s right in front of you.”

I think she’s right. (Just in case she reads this, let me add that she’s always right.)

Now, to be fair to me, let me note that I do notice and avoid large roadkill, such as a deer. I’m also pretty good at not hitting live animals.

Still, this strikes me as a good metaphor for the different ways people approach life. Some of us focus on what’s way down the road, while others of us focus on what’s right in front of us.

For example, some Christians are so heavenly minded, they’re no earthly good. On the other hand, some are so focused on here and now, they fail to consider eternity.

Some Americans are so focused on immediate gratification, they forget to consider long-term stability. On the other hand, some are so focused on having enough in their retirement years, they don’t have much fun now.

Some politicians are so focused on what’s good for them in next week’s poll or in next year’s election, they fail to consider what’s best for future generations. On the other hand, some are so focused on future generations that they—well, I actually can’t think of any politicians who are so intent on looking down the road that they fail to consider their own immediate prospects. If you know of any, please let me know.

My point is that we all need to have a balanced way of looking at things. We need to pay attention to what’s happening here and now. We need to be aware of what’s happening right in front of us. But we also need to pay attention to what’s way down the road.

Christians need to lay up treasure in heaven while also working to make life less hellish for those who are suffering, who are oppressed, and who are rejected.

We all need to save as best we can for retirement while also living as full a life as we can right now.

Our political leaders need always to be thinking about the long-term implications of their policies and programs while also considering the effect they’ll have on people today.

None of this is easy, but it’s what comes with being responsible adult human beings.

The road we’re on simultaneously sits right in front of us and stretches way ahead of us.

Wise people will keep their eyes on all of it.

Forty-Four Years Later

In September 1975, I entered Mercer University as a freshman. Mercer followed the quarter system back then, so three courses constituted a full load.

Two of my first three courses were held in Knight Hall.

I was a Christianity major and Greek minor, and Knight Hall housed both of those departments. During my Mercer career, I took, as best I can recall, nineteen classes in that building—all of my Christianity and Greek courses, plus three Sociology classes and one course each in Philosophy and Political Science.

I will always be grateful for what I learned in that building from Professors Giddens, Otto, McManus, Youman, Evans, Quimbao, Albritton, Brown, and Johnson.

I graduated from Mercer in 1978. In the years since, I’ve been back in Knight Hall a handful of times.

Last week, I walked into Knight Hall as an Adjunct Professor. I’m teaching a course called “Engaging the New Testament.”

I’ve been teaching part-time for Mercer over the last few years. To this point, all of my classes have been through what until recently was called Penfield College (they just changed the name to the College of Professional Advancement; I’ll keep calling it Penfield to save energy and words).

I enjoy teaching with Penfield. The students are mainly what we used to call “non-traditional.” They’re working adults who usually come directly from their places of employment to take four-hour long night classes. I admire their dedication and am honored to work with them.

This is the first time I’ve taught in the Religion (formerly Christianity) Department in the College of Liberal Arts in Macon. Most of the students in this class are freshmen. They just finished high school in May. They’re young.

In our first class meeting, I promised my students I wouldn’t bore them throughout the semester with “back when I was a Mercer student” stories. But I said I was going to bore them this one time.

I proceeded to tell them about how I made the long journey (less than forty miles, but it seemed long to me) from Barnesville to Macon. I told them about how nervous—scared, even—I was about whether or not I could succeed in college. I told them about how my mother had died in May before I entered Mercer in September.

I told them about how Mercer had changed my life. I told them about how much my professors meant to me. I told them about how I met my Good Wife there.

I told them how grateful I was to share in their educational experience.

I told them some of my story.

I don’t know their stories yet. I hope I get to learn at least a little about who they are.

I hope their experience at Mercer is as life-changing as mine was.

I hope I make a small contribution to it.

I hope that, if and when they remember me forty-four years down the road, they’ll feel a little bit of gratitude.

I hope they’ll remember me with a smile.

Divisions

In Luke 12:49-59, Jesus says that his coming causes division. He highlights the divisions that occur in families.

By the time Luke’s Gospel was written, such division over Jesus was certainly happening in families. Those who believed in and followed Jesus became alienated from family members who didn’t. Such divisions still happen, particularly in cultures where another religion dominates.

These days, we have divisions in the family of faith. Christians are divided against each other.

Some such divisions have been around so long that we hardly think about them. Some of them are official and formalized, as in the existence of multiple denominations and branches of denominations.

We’re accustomed to some of these divisions to the point of being good-natured about them. People in one denomination might give those in another a hard time, but they’re usually just kidding.

Divisions within denominations, on the other hand, are no laughing matter, and many denominations have faced, are facing, and will face them.

These days we face serious divisions within the larger family of faith. I’m thinking especially of the church in the United States.

In our current political and social climate, Christians have taken up opposing positions. Put too simply, on one side are the evangelicals and on the other side are the progressives.

(As I said, that’s putting it too simply—far, far too simply. But it would take a very long essay to cover the needed caveats, explanations, and exceptions. So we’ll have to settle for the general terms.)

When Jesus talked about the divisions that his coming would produce, he meant divisions between those who follow him and those who don’t.

We are dealing with divisions between people who all believe they are following Jesus.

I’ve had people say to me, “I don’t see how you can be a Christian and take that position.” My response to them is, “Back atcha.”

This is a difficult situation. It is difficult because both sides can’t be right. It is also difficult because once we become convinced that we’re the ones who are truly on Jesus’ side (and that he is on ours), we become entrenched and defensive.

The line between righteousness and self-righteousness can be a fine one.

There are some calls that should be easy, though. For example, people who embrace racism, sexism, and misogyny are wrong, and those who embrace equality, justice, and respect are right. People who act out of hate and fear are wrong, and those who act out of love and hope are right.

How can we move toward being people who truly follow Jesus and thus truly represent him in the current situation and in future ones? How can we be as sure as we can be that we are really following Jesus?

First, we can keep our minds open. There is always more to learn about who Jesus is and who Jesus would have us be. Once we let our perspectives and opinions become set in stone, we get awfully attached to our monuments.

Second, we can keep our hearts humble. We all have a long way to go. It’s best to keep that in mind. Besides, it’s not about being right. It’s about being a follower of Jesus, wherever that takes us. We live and serve by the grace of God. We must take care that we not become proud of it.

Third, we can continually read and study the Gospels. We are blessed to have them. They contain what the Spirit and the early church’s teachers, preachers, writers, compilers, and editors determined we need to know about Jesus. I’d suggest we read at least a chapter a day. We should do so prayerfully, asking God to help us know how we can best follow and bear witness to Jesus.

Fourth, we can think, speak, and act in love, grace, and mercy. If we find ourselves about to adopt an attitude, make a statement, or perform an action that doesn’t demonstrate Jesus’ love, grace, and mercy, we need to stop. Then we need to move on toward attitudes, statements, and actions that do.

Faithfulness to Jesus can create division. We need to do all we can to make sure we are following Jesus as best we can, including in the ways we deal with our sisters and brothers we find ourselves divided from.

(This post first appeared at Coracle, the blog of NextSunday Resources.)

We’d Better Move Over

I recently completed teaching an eight-week class on Wednesday evenings at Mercer University’s Henry County Center in McDonough. My usual route home takes me down I-75 to the Barnesville/Jackson exit.

These days, the Georgia Department of Transportation is resurfacing that stretch of interstate highway. They do the work at night. My class ended at 9:45 p.m.

You do the math.

Luckily, I have these nice apps on my phone to help me. One night, I requested one such app to take me to the best route home. It knew (I don’t know how) that the interstate was a parking lot due to the construction, so it took me on what would have been a scenic route had it not been too dark to see.

On another night, the app said that traffic on the interstate was moving well, so I went that way. The app was right, and I zipped right on down the highway.

Then there was a third night. The app assured me that the interstate was the best way to go.

The app lied.

As a result, I found myself sitting still for half an hour two miles from my exit.

It was mildly irritating. But I was listening to a very interesting podcast, so it was no big deal.

What did bother me about the situation was how unnecessary it was. And it was unnecessary because of—what else?—people.

You see, a few miles before the point where the work began, there were signs saying things like, “Road work ahead. Two left lanes closed. Merge right.”

I processed the information. If road work was ahead, and if the two left lanes were going to be closed, then the suggestion to move over to the right lane seemed a good one.

So I did. And then I rolled along in the right lane for a few miles with people zipping by me in the two left lanes.

I kept on rolling and they kept on zipping—until I stopped rolling and they stopped zipping.

The bottleneck occurred when the people driving in the two left lanes—the lanes that those signs had miles ago—miles ago!— warned them were going to be closed—suddenly needed to get in the far right lane, where I and other people already were because (1) we can read and (2) we have the good sense to take warnings seriously and to do what we need to do to avoid problems down the road.

This is a metaphor for the place in which we find ourselves.

There are all kinds of signs warning us of what’s coming.

There are signs warning us that if we don’t do something, climate change is going to get worse, with ominous implications for our health, the economy, and national security.

There are signs warning us that if we don’t do something, disregard for the Constitution at the highest levels is going to get worse, with ominous implications for our government, our freedom, and our role in the world.

There are signs warning us that if we don’t do something, demagoguery that uses fear and ignorance to create and widen divisions among us is going to get worse, with ominous implications for our society, our politics, and our common good.

There are signs warning us that if we don’t do something, health care problems that come from placing more value on corporate profits than on human lives are going to get worse, with ominous implications for our well-being, our finances, and our stability.

If we don’t respond to the warning signs by doing something positive and constructive, we’ll soon find ourselves stuck with no exit available.

We ignore the warning signs to our own peril, and to the even greater peril of our children, their children, and their children.

The signs are there. We’d better start moving over before it’s too late.

Listen, Learn, and Live (a sermon)

Colossians 1:15-28; Luke 10:38-42

We have a glut of information. Much of it is worth knowing, but much of it isn’t. A lot of it is true, but a lot of it isn’t. A lot of it is helpful, but a lot of it isn’t.

Lots of people want to tell us how to think and what to believe. We all have to be discerning.

Sometimes we find someone who speaks such truth to us that we listen to or read every word they say. Frederick Buechner is such a person to me. Whenever I read his words, I find myself thinking either “That’s true” or “Oh I hope that’s true.” It’s great to have someone like that in your life.

Think about the opportunity Mary and Martha have. Jesus is in their house. They know that Jesus is a great teacher. They may suspect—or they may not—that he is more than that.

(I wonder—if you were in his presence, and if your heart were really open, did you just know there was something about him?)

Mary and Martha knew Jesus personally. They knew him in the flesh.

We don’t have that privilege.

We know more about Jesus than Mary and Martha knew when Jesus came to their house. The knew he was a great teacher. They knew there was something special about him.

But they didn’t know what Paul tells us about Jesus in Colossians. We know that Jesus “is the image of the invisible God” (Col 1:15). We know that “in [Jesus] all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell” (Col 1:19).

We know that Jesus reveals God to us. We know that in God’s grace, God sent God’s Son so we could look at Jesus and know what God is like. We know that in God’s grace, God sent God’s Son so we could listen to Jesus and know what God says.

Paul also said what he wanted for the Colossians, and we want those same things for ourselves and for each other. We want to be “holy and blameless and irreproachable before [Christ]” (Col 1:22). We want to become “mature in Christ” (Col 1:28). We want to become all that Christ died to enable us to become.

How do we do that? We do it by doing what Mary did—by listening to Jesus.

Mary was able to literally sit in front of Jesus and listen to him. We can’t do that.

But we can sit with our Gospels in front of us. We can sit (or stand or kneel) in prayer. We can listen to the Spirit of God that is with us to help us understand what Jesus wants us to know and to do. We can pay attention to our sisters and brothers in Christ who bear faithful witness to who Jesus is.

We can do those things, and we should. It is a shame and a waste not to take advantage of the opportunities we have to listen to and learn from Jesus.

But we don’t listen and learn for the sake of listening and learning. We listen to and learn from Jesus so we can live as Jesus wants us to live.

Jesus said that Mary had, by listening to him, chosen the one thing that was necessary, while Martha let herself be distracted by the busyness of making dinner for Jesus.

This doesn’t mean that we should all just sit around listening to and learning from Jesus and not give any attention to service. Indeed, right before this episode, Jesus tells the story of the Good Samaritan, which is all about offering loving service to someone in need.

When someone needs help, we help. When someone needs a hand, we offer one. When someone is hurting, we comfort them.

Listening to and learning from Jesus will lead us to serve. We will also grow more and more into people who serve for service’s sake and who love for love’s sake. Loving service will come less out of an effort to be who we should be and more and more out of who are becoming as we listen to and learn from Jesus.

As we grow in our knowledge of Jesus, we will become more merciful, more gracious, and more service oriented. We will become more loving, and our ever-growing love will lead us to give ourselves away for others’ sake, for love’s sake, and for Christ’s sake.

When we are trying to decide what to think, what to say, or what to do, we should think about what Jesus would think, say, and do about it.

When a legislative body is debating a law, an important question is, “Does it pass constitutional muster?” Will it hold up in light of the Constitution?

When we are trying to decide if we should think, talk, or act in a certain way, we should ask, “Does it pass Jesus muster?” Will it hold up in the light of Jesus?

We should ask, “Does it pass the test of leading us to love, to show mercy, to offer grace, and—to serve?” Yes, listening to Jesus and learning from Jesus leads us to live a life of service. Listening as Mary did leads us to serve as Martha did—but without the pressure and worry.

The Gospel writers and editors arranged their material on purpose. Notice that Luke tells the story of the Good Samaritan, then the story of Mary and Martha, and then Jesus’ teachings on prayer. This literary structure offers us a good discipleship structure. We help as the Samaritan did. We pray as Jesus taught us to. But the Mary and Martha story is in the middle. Listening to and learning from Jesus is the centerpiece of discipleship.

How do we listen to Jesus? We read the Gospels. We pay close attention to what he did and said. We read the entire Bible in light of Jesus. We deal with issues and draw conclusions in light of Jesus. We deal with people in light of Jesus. We approach life in light of Jesus.

We listen to what Jesus says.

We learn from who Jesus is.

We live as Jesus wants us to live, always growing in mercy, grace, and service—always growing in love.

Our Country, Right or Wrong

I love the United States of America. This is my home. I was born here. I have lived here all my life. I’ve visited a few other countries, but I’m always glad to get home to the good old U.S.A.

To quote the great theologian Chuck Berry, “I’m so glad I’m livin’ in the U.S.A.!”

I love the United States of America. That’s why it makes me happy when we promote equality, practice justice, and foster community. That’s why it makes me unhappy when we don’t do those things.

I am proud of America. I want to become even prouder.

That’s why I sometimes find it necessary to criticize our nation, its policies, and its leaders.

Some folks seem to think that it’s wrong to criticize the current president. But those same folks didn’t think it was wrong to criticize the president who served before him.

Our problem is never with people criticizing the president. It’s with people criticizing this or that president. If we don’t agree with or like the president, we think it’s fine for us or anyone else to criticize him. But if we agree with or like the president, then we think it’s wrong for someone to criticize him.

Our attitude toward criticizing the president is more about partisanship than patriotism.

Loving America doesn’t mean always going along with whatever our leaders choose to do. And being critical of a leader doesn’t constitute hating America.

The idea that criticizing a president or other leader is unpatriotic is itself unpatriotic.

When President Trump ran for office, his campaign slogan was “Make America Great Again.” The slogan implied that America was no longer great. It implied that something was wrong with America that needed to be corrected.

Many people embraced that slogan and the assumptions behind it. Did they not love America? Did someone tell them to go back where they came from?

(By the way, unless we’re ancestors of those Native Americans who were already here when Europeans started arriving, our ancestors all came from somewhere else.)

Some of us believe that the current president’s vision of what makes America great and his approaches to fulfilling that vision actually lessen and weaken the nation. We speak, write, and work against his agenda not because we hate America but because we love it.

I want my nation to be the best nation it can be. I want it to make progress toward living up to its ideals. I don’t want us to settle for less than we can be. I don’t want us to accept division, prejudice, racism, xenophobia, and fear as its norms.

When someone criticizes or protests something that is going on in the United States, they might be criticized as being un-American or unpatriotic. But there are times when not criticizing and protesting is un-American and unpatriotic.

I affirm the statement, “My country, right or wrong.” Whether it is right or wrong, the United States is my country.

I celebrate when we do right. But I don’t celebrate when we do wrong. And the United States is sometimes wrong. When we are, it is still my country. But I want it to do right. I want it to do better.

I want my country always to be growing toward being the best country it can be.

I echo the words of Dr. King in his “I have a dream” speech: “Now, I say to you today my friends, even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.’”

We understand even better than our founders did what it means for “all men” to be “created equal.” We know that it means that all people—female or male, black or brown or white, gay or straight—are created equal.

Our national goal should be for all people to be treated the same. Our national commitment should be for all of us to work together for the common good.

Now, we will debate what constitutes being “right” and “wrong.” That’s when things get really difficult. I know that. I recognize that we can’t all just get along and expect everything to work out. I know that we will disagree and debate.

But we disagree and debate most productively when we start from a place of mutual respect. When we all accept each other as Americans who love our country and who want it to be the best country it can be, we can work toward compromises that will move us ever closer to fulfilling our promise.

“Our country, right or wrong.”

When our country is wrong, we need to work together to make it right.

When our county is right, we need to work together to make it better.

Christian Decisions

I think a lot about something the poet Maya Angelou said: “I’m always amazed when people walk up to me and say, ‘I’m a Christian.’ I think, ‘Already? You already got it?’ I’m working at it, which means that I try to be as kind and fair and generous and respectful and courteous to every human being."

I guess I’d put it like this: “I am a Christian and I’m becoming a Christian.” Being Christian is my identity, but it’s also something I’m growing into. Hopefully, I’m always growing into being a better version of my Christian self.

Taking Jesus seriously is a basic part of being a Christian. I don’t understand how one can be a follower of Christ without taking seriously what Jesus said and did.

By “taking seriously” I mean more than knowing what Jesus did and said, although that’s the starting point. I mean trying to understand what it means to follow the Jesus who did and said what he did and said. I mean applying his life and teachings to my real life in this real world.

When I’m trying to figure out how I should respond to something or someone, what my position should be on an issue, or how I should behave in a situation, I start with Jesus.

What did Jesus do? What did Jesus say? That’s the base line from which I work. My main approach to learning these things is reading and studying the four New Testament Gospels.

Coming to grips with what Jesus did and said isn’t easy. So much of his guidance goes against the grain of what our culture accepts and even, all too often, of what churches and professed Christians practice.

I thought about writing a book called Things I Wish Jesus Hadn’t Said. Then I realized that the people who remembered, taught, wrote, compiled, and edited the books of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John beat me to it.

Some of you are saying, “What are you talking about?” I’d suggest you go read the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5–7). Read it slowly. Think about it. Now ask yourself how many Christians and churches really live like that. If you’re a Christian, ask yourself if you really live like that.

I’m sure you’ll answer honestly, so now ask yourself why not.

But as followers of Jesus, we must—we must—ask God, by God’s grace, through God’s Spirit, and by our best efforts, to us help think, feel, talk, and act in Jesus’ way.

That’s what I try to do. I fail, to be sure. Stuff gets in the way. People get in the way. I get in the way. But I keep trying. We should all keep trying.

As I’m trying to understand, accept, and follow Jesus’ ways, I’m also dealing with the real world.

So in any given situation, I try to consider circumstances, history, nuances, variables, contingencies, and so on. I also try to remember that for everything I know, there are roughly ten thousand things (a conservative estimate) I don’t know. I try to remember that, while I understand myself to some degree, I can understand someone else pretty much not at all.

In other words, I try to stay humble. When I pay attention to myself, it’s really not that hard.

So I start with Jesus, who is Lord of my life. I then take what I know of Jesus with me into the real world where I deal with real people, real problems, real issues, and real complications.

And then I come back to Jesus.

I ask—I implore—I beg Jesus to help me deal with people, problems, and issues as he would have me deal with them.

Then I do the best I can.

And next time, I try to do better.

I spend a lot of time wondering, repenting, failing, and trying again. I spend a lot of time going back to Jesus.

To sum up what I’m trying to say about how I try to live as a Christian (and please keep in mind that I haven’t tried to cover the entire Christian life, but rather just the decision-making part): given what I can know about what Jesus said and did (and remembering that I will always need to know more), and given what I can know about what’s going on in real life in the real world and why it’s going on (and remembering that I will always need to know more), what can I conclude about how Jesus would have me think, about what Jesus would have me say, and about what Jesus would have me do (remembering that I will always need to know more)?

Then, by the grace and Spirit of God, I think, say, and do what I think Jesus would have me think, say, and do.

As long as I am here, the process will never end.