Lessons from a steamboat

There is good news and bad news for those playing the back-nine of life.

The good news is that, physically, we are living longer, healthier lives. The bad news is that, economically, some anticipated retirement plans are having to be adjusted.

In casual conversations over the last couple of weeks, friends have told of postponing plans to retire next year or looking for work following a recent retirement.

I thought about my retirement-age friends when I spotted the Delta Queen tied up to the north shore of the Tennessee River in Chattanooga. The legendary stern-wheel steamboat will become a floating hotel there this spring.

At 82, the Delta Queen is transitioning into a new career. No longer will the Cincinnati-based vessel cruise the Mighty Mississippi or Ohio rivers. And her Navy career is but a distant memory.

She is not finished yet, however, and her new location is a great place to slow down while remaining productive. Here people enjoy gathering in Coolidge Park to picnic, hear concerts, play in sprinklers or ride the restored carousel. Just across the pedestrian Walnut Street Bridge is the Tennessee Aquarium and other attractions in downtown Chattanooga.

While the Delta Queen no longer meets the strict requirements needed in a cruise vessel, she still has some life left in her. And she is not the only senior looking beyond typical retirement age for a new vocational track.

A shared condition

Yesterday my wife paid a physical therapy visit to a local nursing home. An elderly man with a cane wobbled his way down the hall.

One of the employees saw him and was alarmed. "Oh Honey, did you fall?" she asked.

My wife looked and saw the woman examining his darkened forehead. Apparently, his explanations to the caretaker were not being understood.

"It's Ash Wednesday," my wife interjected. "He has ashes on his forehead."

The confused look on the woman's face led my wife to give a little more explanation and to assure her that the resident was not injured.

While the caretaker was unfamiliar with the ancient Christian tradition of beginning the Lenten season with ashes, she did ask the right question for the day.

"Have you fallen?"

The answer for each of us is a resounding, "Yes, I have." That confession is what puts us on the trail toward the Cross.

Helpful daily devotions for the journey are provided by the Passport folks at d365.

A time for not talking about race

Southern Baptist editor Kelly Boggs’ recent column in Baptist Press reveals why white conservative Christians are not taken seriously in needed discussions about race.

The editor of the Louisiana Baptist Convention newspaper, Baptist Message, addressed the controversy over a political cartoon in the New York Post that many considered offensive — believing it to portray President Obama as a chimp. These racial sensitivities are understandable since for generations such racist portrayals have been common.

But white-guy Boggs is quick to give his white-guy perspective with comments like: “I saw nothing racial in the Post cartoon.” “So long as some in our country see racism behind every wrong, every comment and in every cartoon, we will never make progress on the issue of race or be able to put the real racists in their place.” “I do not believe that the Post cartoon contained any racial message.”

Then Boggs quotes and agrees with the equally white, religious right figure Tony Perkins of the Family Research Council — who said that the solution to racial reconciliation is found “in a more aggressive church where we unite around ideals rooted not in skin color but in Jesus Christ.”

While such lofty affirmations sound so-o-o spiritual, they ignore the reality that white evangelical churches have been a major part of the problem, not the solution to racism. An “aggressive church” is where racial discrimination was theologically justified and its related prejudices were reinforced within the faithful for decades.

Evangelical Christianity was a major obstacle to America’s quest for civil rights — in which the “ideals rooted … in Jesus Christ” concerning human equality were ignored or misconstrued by bad biblical interpretations.

Therefore, the words of white (especially Southern) evangelical Christians ring hollow. And Boggs is in no position to tell African Americans what they should or should not find offensive.

On this subject in particular, white evangelical Christians need to shut up about how to “fix” the race problem and spend more time seriously contemplating why our own history of race relations is so deeply marred.

Southern evangelicals have no more moral authority to speak on issues of race than the Roman Catholic Church does on sexual ethics. Such authority is granted — not grabbed.

Long reflection, ongoing confession and honest repentance must precede any meaningful proclamation. Maybe years after humbly confessing our sins — and acknowledging our capacity for hate and our inability to read Scripture correctly when it goes against the grain of our culture and economic benefit — then we can offer a fresh word.

But now is the time to quietly and repeatedly ask ourselves and one another more troubling questions like:

How could we have missed such a basic biblical truth as the equality of all persons? How could we treat fellow Americans — even sisters and brothers in Christ — as of less than equal value?

Why has racism been fostered by the very persons who claim Jesus as Lord? How could so-called Christian churches not even open their doors to people of all races?

And perhaps more importantly: Where are our blind spots today? To whom will we need to apologize in the days and years ahead for our current sins of oppression and exclusion?

President Obama and Attorney General Eric Holder — the first African Americans to hold their respective positions — have rightly called for more open, honest dialogue about race. But the best contribution from many of us would be to shut up and listen.

White evangelical Christians are not going to bridge the racial divide with proclamations that attempt to define what is and is not racism or try to quick-fix the centuries-old problem with spiritually-wrapped statements of simplicity.

Sure, it is more satisfying to tell other people the answers to all of their questions than to wrestle with our own. And we Baptists and other conservative Christians aren’t very good at the hard work of reflection, repentance and relationship building.

We like to talk — and act as if our latest opinion is the right one for everyone else to embrace. But our past actions do not afford us such a position on the subject of race. It is a time to shut up, reflect deeply and listen to others.

Burleson late to the game

A review of Hardball Religion: Feeling the Fury of Fundamentalism by Wade Burleson (2009, Smyth & Helwys Publishing)

By John Pierce
Executive Editor
Baptists Today

Conservative Southern Baptist pastor and popular blogger Wade Burleson details his recent three-year battle with fundamentalist forces within the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) in Hardball Religion: Feeling the Fury of Fundamentalism. He gives both play-by-play coverage and color commentary.

The playing field for most of the action is the trustee board of the SBC’s International Mission Board (IMB) — where the independent-minded Burleson caught the wrath of denominational power-brokers carrying out a well-orchestrated effort to further restrict missionary qualifications (according to strict Landmark Baptist doctrine) and to undermine the leadership of IMB president Jerry Rankin.

Burleson’s vocal opposition to these efforts — along with his public revelations via his blog about what he witnessed in and out of trustee meetings — led to his eventual censure in November 2007 and his resignation from the board in January 2008.

Although an earlier call to have him removed from the board was rescinded, he became the first trustee in convention history to be formally targeted for removal before his term expired.

Burleson, pastor of Emmanuel Baptist Church in Enid, Okla., and former two-term president of the ultraconservative Baptist General Convention of Oklahoma, chronicles the power ploys he encountered as an IMB trustee from 2005 until early 2008. He also notes other recent actions within the SBC — such as the removal of Hebrew professor Sheri Klouda from Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary because of her gender — to reveal an aggressive fundamentalist agenda at work.

Repeatedly, Burleson points to SBC kingpin Paige Patterson, the president of Southwestern Seminary in Fort Worth, Texas, who ousted Klouda, as the powerful operative directing influential IMB trustees as part of a larger effort to narrow the doctrinal parameters for participation within the SBC.

Patterson, who previously served as president of Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in Wake Forest, N.C., is widely regarded — along with Judge Paul Pressler of Houston, Texas — as a chief architect of what proponents call “the conservative resurgence” and critics call “the fundamentalist takeover” of the SBC that begin in 1979.

Burleson describes efforts by IMB trustees loyal to Patterson to embarrass Rankin and other IMB administrators and to impose Landmark doctrine on the Southern Baptist mission enterprise through new requirements that disqualify missionary candidates who have “a private prayer language” or have been baptized in settings other than a Southern Baptist church or another congregation that teaches the doctrine of perseverance of the saints.

Burleson claims that, early on, he was recruited by this coalition of trustees set on removing Rankin — who has previously admitted to practicing a private form of glossolalia (speaking in tongues).

“Even before my first IMB meeting, I was invited by the trustees who thought they were in charge to join their select group and meet secretly at a hotel or restaurant during the trustee meeting, skipping the missionary appointment service, to plan their next attack against Jerry Rankin’s leadership. …,” Burleson wrote. “[Some] told me that the trustees were three votes short of removing Rankin, and they were counting on me, a new trustee, to be one of those three.”

Burleson’s refusal to support their pre-meeting caucuses (which he noted were in violation of board policy) and his willingness to expose these efforts publicly did not set well with the trustee leaders John Floyd from Tennessee, a disgruntled former IMB employee, and Tom Hatley from Arkansas.

“They had an agenda,” wrote Burleson. “I stood in the way. I asked too many questions, and I was too persistent, particularly for a ‘rookie’ trustee.”

Burleson said his harsh treatment by fellow trustees followed his stand against the private caucuses which were filled with “gossip, innuendo, and in some cases outright slander … as they spoke of Rankin.”

Giving wide exposure to his fellow trustees’ political activities and making public his own case against the narrow doctrinal requirements for missionary candidates — via his blog — infuriated trustee leaders.

Burleson justified bringing such issues into the public arena by emphasizing the role of dissent in Baptist polity.

“[O]nce the majority of trustees voted to approve the new doctrinal policies, and I was shown officially to be on the minority side, the forum for dissent became the convention as a whole,” said Burleson. “Trustees have accountability to the entire convention. … I agree that the trustee on the losing side of a vote should acquiesce to the majority, except if the dissent is based upon a violation of conscience or Scripture.”

Burleson’s Dec. 10, 2005 blog titled “Crusading Conservatives vs. Cooperating Conservatives: The Battle for the Future of the Southern Baptist Convention” shed a broader light on the new doctrinal requirements for missionaries as well as trustees’ efforts to undermine Rankin.

Strong reaction to the blog from fellow Southern Baptists — some in support of and others in opposition to Burleson’s efforts — revealed a deep divide in Southern Baptist politics between those who think the revised Baptist Faith and Message doctrinal statement of 2000 is a strong enough guideline for determining participation in SBC life and those who feel that agencies — such as the IMB — should be free to add further requirements of belief and practice.

Several missionaries — including David Rogers, whose late father Adrian Rogers was elected SBC president in 1979 — expressed appreciation for Burleson’s stand against narrowing doctrinal parameters.

Trustee leadership responded to Burleson’s persistent blogging by charging him with “gossip and slander” — and urging him to resign. Burleson refused — knowing that SBC messengers meeting in June 2006 in Greensboro, N.C., would have to hear his case in the large arena and then vote to remove or retain him as an IMB trustee.

Burleson humorously described one effort to get him to bow out quietly and quickly:

“[A]s I walked down the hall toward the building’s exit, IMB trustee Bill Sutton, Paige Patterson’s close friend and confidante, came running up behind me. ‘Wade, Wade, stop! Listen to me. Please. What do I have to do to get you to resign? I’ll wash your feet; I’ll kiss your butt. Please, just tell me, what can I do to get you to step down for the good of everyone involved?’”

Burleson said he responded: “Bill, you still don’t understand. This is a matter of principle for me. I can’t resign. I’ll see you in Greensboro.”

Fear of Burleson speaking to the convention — and the urging of top SBC leadership at a hastily called meeting — led IMB trustee leaders to pull their recommendation for Burleson’s removal from the board. However, the chairman stripped him of influence by not giving him a customary committee assignment.

Blogging among Southern Baptists grew stronger leading up to the 2006 SBC annual meeting in Greensboro — with several media reports crediting Burleson, Marty Duren and other electronic critics of the IMB trustee actions with influencing the SBC presidential election. Lesser-known South Carolina pastor Frank Page was elected president of the SBC over two other candidates more closely associated with the convention’s power structure.

However, in the book, Burleson seems to overestimate the impact of Page's election as a kinder, gentler supporter of the rightward SBC as well as that of the so-called “Garner motion” that messengers approved at the 2007 SBC meeting calling the 2000 Baptist Faith and Message a sufficient doctrinal guideline.

For Page’s two terms in office were followed by the election of Johnny Hunt, a solid player in the fundamentalist-shaped SBC. And Garner’s motion was followed by quick responses from SBC agency heads arguing that their boards can and will add doctrinal parameters as they choose.

Yet Burleson seems optimistic about somehow stemming the growing tide of fundamentalism in the SBC. And, with so many vocal opponents of fundamentalism gone en mass from the SBC already, it takes significant optimism to make such a claim.

Throughout his book, Burleson reveals what many already know about the well-entrenched fundamentalism of the SBC, such as:

1. Some of the most hostile, unscrupulous people one can ever encounter are driven by religiously-masked political power.
2. Church leaders who espouse love and unity — and claim a higher commitment to biblical authority — can be very unloving and divisive people.
3. Fundamentalism has no room for dissent. Asking honest questions and challenging the ethics of those carrying out a fundamentalist agenda are considered signs of disloyalty.
4. Fundamentalists are punitive toward those who disagree with them or stand in the way of their goals.
5. Otherwise good people can become complicit in fundamentalist efforts out of fear, ignorance or opportunism.
6. Fundamentalists like to do their deeds in darkness. Secret meetings, false rumors, and stifled or controlled information are strangely excused in the name of biblical fidelity. Ends justify ungodly means.
7. Ultimately, fundamentalism is about gaining or retaining power rather than about theology, spirituality or anything else.
8. Fundamentalists can’t stop. The circle is always narrowing; the noose is always tightening. When original “enemies” are gone, enemies are created out of one another.

In Hardball Religion, Burleson gives example-after-example of these realities of fundamentalism that he has seen up close.

Burleson’s insight into the obviously strained relationships between IMB trustees and administrators is sadly interesting. He tells how communications leader Wendy Norville was treated disrespectfully when her vote count on a controversial matter did not match that of the chairman.

And he recounts how Rankin would grovel before the trustee leaders and apologize for things he had not done. One must wonder if Rankin expected Burleson to do likewise — and what role Rankin played in Burleson's decision to toss in the towel.

While Burleson is a welcomed and needed voice in warning Baptists and others about the destructive nature of religious fundamentalism, he seems narrowly focused.

For example, he is rightfully outraged that a competent female professor at Southwestern Seminary would lose her position over gender. Yet, Burleson — and Klouda, for that matter — should have known about Patterson’s fossilized position on female subordination and not been surprised.

And did Burleson completely miss the 1994 firing of Southwestern Seminary President Russell Dilday? Or does he consider that action to be justified or somehow something other than the same fundamentalism at work that he has witnessed in recent years?

Likewise, Burleson’s concern that many good Southern Baptist missionary candidates are now being excluded from service by non-essential doctrinal restrictions is laudable. But where was his voice in 2002 when these same agenda-driven IMB trustees — with Rankin’s wimpy compliance — required the entire overseas mission force to affirm the 2000 Baptist Faith and Message?

Dozens of committed Southern Baptist missionaries (as addressed in the book, Stand with Christ: Why Missionaries can’t sign the 2000 Baptist Faith and Message, 2002, Smyth & Helwys) were terminated or forced to retire by the imposition of these new doctrinal requirements on their consciences. Yet Burleson affirms this narrow doctrinal statement as “sufficient” although it violates the historic Baptist principle of congregational autonomy and handcuffs missionaries working in settings where women routinely lead churches.

Ironically, Burleson has spoken out in defense of women ministers. In his book he writes: “The focus on keeping women from church leadership makes no sense in China and other places where house churches are mainly composed of women.”

That is precisely why Burleson’s defense of the 2000 Baptist Faith and Message — that states “…the office of pastor is limited to men as qualified by Scripture” — and his outrage over the removal of a female theology professor and the addition of a couple of more narrow doctrinal requirements for screening new missionaries are hard to reconcile.

Burleson’s courage to stand toe-to-toe with abusive power-brokers, to expose the misuse of denominational authority and resources, and to defend those harmed by heavy-handed tactics is commendable.

Yet, for so many of us, his recent “discovery” of fundamentalism in the Southern Baptist Convention is not breaking news. It shows just how late Burleson is getting to the game.

He writes: “I began to realize in 2005, to my horror, that the issue causing such pain in the Southern Baptist Convention was not a battle for a belief in the inspired, inerrant word of God.”

Burleson is right. It is about something else — something very destructive.

The rough-and-tumble hardball he describes in this book has been going on in the SBC’s power structures for more than a quarter-century now. What Burleson is experiencing is just extra innings.

[Hardball Religion by Wade Burleson (ISBN 978-1-57312-527-7) is scheduled for release sometime in March 2009. Pre-orders can be placed at helwys.com.]

A four-year degree?

During my college years in the '70s, we made a point of finishing on time. In fact, a Bachelor degree was often referred to as a "four-year degree."

Only a slacker would drag things out much longer, eliciting the explanation that "he crammed four years of college into seven years."

Even going to summer school could cause whispers about failing or dropping a tough class, or lazily taking less than a full load.

During the '80s, while I was doing campus ministry, things really changed. Completing a degree in four years sans summers became rarer. Dropping classes — for whatever reason — became routine.

Graduation dates became goals or estimates, not deadlines. But not all of this shift had to do with students.

Some academic degrees simply could not be completed in the "normal" four-year undergraduate period. And the scheduling of required classes, as well as internships or co-ops, could mess with the completion dates too.

The primary factor for my own commitment to completing my degree "on time" had to do with money. Paying for an additional term was out of the question.

So I was intrigued by a press release received yesterday in which Mercer University announced a "four-year graduation guarantee." It's stated purpose is to help more undergraduates finish on time, therefore reducing costs to them and their families.

"Trends over the past decade indicate that college students are increasingly failing to graduate within four years," the release noted. "Nationally, the average time from matriculation to graduation now exceeds five years, with only 37 percent of students graduating in four years."

Wow. Just over one-third of undergraduate students finish in four years? I can't believe the shift is that great.

Imagine the additional cost of an extended undergraduate degree with tuition, books, housing and everything added in. Plus the person does not get to graduate school or the work force as soon as before.

Mercer’s vice president for enrollment management, Brian Dalton, said: “The Mercer Four-Year Pledge ... is designed to encourage students to be intentional and responsible in successfully pursuing an undergraduate degree within four years of matriculation — and it encourages the University to be a responsible partner in working with students to achieve this desired outcome."

Specifically, the "pledge" states that: "Beginning with the freshman class of 2009, students who do their work, pass their classes, and follow the advice of faculty advisers will graduate within four years."

If these conditions are met, yet more time is required, the university will provide the additional required class(es) at no cost to the student.

Mercer claims to be just "one of only a handful of universities in the country to offer such a guarantee." To make it work, new technology is being employed to better monitor the student's progress toward graduation.

That's interesting since I don't recall any significant technology at play in our academic journeys of the '70s. We simply charted our course — with the help of a catalog and a faculty adviser — and ran to the end.

However, there is nothing magic about the time frame for completing undergraduate education. But it will be interesting to see if such "guarantees" expand and if a shift occurs — leading to four-year degrees once again being completed in four years.

Pastorate is tougher now

While having never served as a full-fledged pastor, I get to play one on many Sundays. It gives me even greater respect for those who follow that unique calling.

Some of my closest friends are pastors — and some are former pastors who gave more than 20 years to the task before needing a change of scenery. I admire them all.

Pastoral ministry, I am convinced, is more difficult today than in decades past. There are a variety of reasons for such a strong claim.

First, there are simply more options (religious and secular) vying for people's time on the weekends. And less guilt about what God will do if you don't show up to church, tithe and check at least 90 percent of the boxes on the offering envelope.

Second, population shifts and unprecedented pluralism are obvious factors too. In most church settings, it is simply more difficult now to bring people in and keep them engaged.

Third, the embarrassing public image of this humble profession is fortified daily — and especially on Sundays — by the pulpit showboats of the airways.

Fourth, and more locally, there are always those members who think their favorite pastor in the '50s, '60s or '70s would have no problem doing successfully today what he did back then. So the current pastor — though equally or more gifted and committed — is constantly being held to an unfair comparison.

Fifth, denominational conflict has taken its toll on many Baptist pastors. Systems and structures that once felt like home to them have radically changed. Finding a place to belong — and one that the congregation affirms as well — can be challenging.

The historic Baptist principles of freedom and personal responsibility that many pastors were taught to embrace and advance — from Training Union through seminary — are now being repudiated by the very leaders of their denominational powerhouse.

Yet churches are slow to recognize and react to such fundamental — and in the case of the Southern Baptist Convention, fundamentalist — change.

As one talented but burned-out pastor friend told me when he threw in the towel a few years ago: "I've just concluded that, regardless of what Southern Baptists do, this is always going to be a Southern Baptist church, and I'm not a Southern Baptist pastor anymore."

A sixth reason for my conclusion is that, within many congregations, worship wars continue with the pastor caught somewhere between the battling parties. Finding compromise between congregational subgroups with very strong but differing opinions about what constitutes "true worship" is difficult and costly.

And, seventh, regardless of church size or theological bent, most pastors spend way too much time and energy on trivial pursuits that have no significance in Kingdom matters. This is not their desire. But hearing and attempting to pacify a few high-maintenance church members seems to take up a significant amount of a pastor's attention.

While the number seven is symbolic of "completion," this list could surely grow. But there is a strong enough case here for me to conclude that the pastoral task is more difficult today.

Sure, there are those rare times when a pastor fails to fulfill the basic responsibilities of the job. In such cases, dealing with valid concerns over pastoral leadership is needed.

But in most cases, we need to simply give them a break. Heck, we might even want to show a little appreciation instead of nitpick everything they do or say.

How would you like to attempt to satisfy such opinionated and inflexible people as you and me? And, remember, this is the person who answers our crisis calls in the wee morning hours with: "I'll be right there."

Changing churches

Baptist Press carried a recent commentary by Southern Baptist pastor Bob Carpenter of Michigan titled "When to leave your church."

His basic point, with which I agree, is that churches need to focus on unity. However, he identifies a few situations that he considers legitimate reasons for moving one's membership to another congregation.

In addition to a physical relocation or a call to mission, Pastor Carpenter said a person should change churches if they encounter false teaching, unaddressed sin or a dysfunctional church life.

I guess it has to with degrees, but I've never known of a congregation that didn't have a dose of all three. They seem to come with the territory.

While there are some legitimate biblical warnings about false teachings, my experience is that we need to be more on-guard against those who brand everything with which they disagree as "false teaching."

Too often, so-called false teaching means that the opinions (biblical interpretations) expressed differ from mine.

We long-suffering Baptists have heard all kinds of things deemed 'false teachings' from interracial relationships to the use of biblical translations beyond 1611 to women wearing pants to church except during an ice storm.

One of the greatest heresies we promote — knowingly or unknowingly — is that we have God and the Gospel all figured out. It helps to remember Helen Keller's wise observation that "the heresy of one age becomes the orthodoxy of the next.”

Someone's narrow view of orthodoxy has never been my primary motivation for church involvement. Worship, mystery, spiritual nurture, community are bigger draws.

While not suggesting an anything-goes, all-beliefs-are-equal faith, I find authoritarian preachers with uncritical certitudes more offensive than ideas that challenge traditional thinking about faith. Teaching people to work out their salvation reflectively is preferred over thoughtless indoctrination.

The New Testament — with its few and fragile churches — doesn't give much attention to "moving your membership." But here are some reasons that would lead me find a new congregational home.

I'd look elsewhere if in my church:
1. My narrow understanding of God went unchallenged. (If everything about God has been solved. No mystery or doubt remains.)
2. Uniformity is mistaken for unity.
3. Christian ethics keep getting reduced to a narrow political agenda that ignores the obvious individual and corporate failures of "good Christians like us" but offers continual hostility toward gay and lesbian persons.
4. Belief in the “inerrant Bible” and the pastor’s interpretations of the Bible are one and the same.

Or if they serve that powdery, non-dairy creamer during coffee hour.

Lost art of pick-up games

A smile comes across my face each time I drive by the Clark family's home in our neighborhood and a game of some sort is going on in their wide front yard.

What was an almost daily routine in my youth is a rarity now — pick-up games.

Richard Collison had the best yard for football — though we would play in a cow pasture, on a gravel road and even in a cemetery if needed.

Baseball rules were adjusted according to the number of players and the less than diamond-shaped "fields" available to us.

Catching a pop fly is easy. Getting your glove on it coming through the limbs of a post oak tree is more challenging.

In our front yard a hit past the oak tree that bounced into the ditch was a double. To the ditch on the fly was a homer. We had no triples.

Pick-up games required nothing more than minimal equipment, virtually any space available to us and an eagerness to compete.

We didn't need coaches, uniforms, umpires, organized practices, schedules, team moms, a specified number of players, permission forms, rulebooks or cheering crowds. And our mommies didn't even have our names applied to the rear windows of their station wagons.

We just loved to play.

In his 1997 autobiography, Field of Hope, former major leaguer Brett Butler remembered such days from his youth.

"Playing in uniform with our [Little League] teams every few days was just the icing on the cake," he wrote. "...You could come to the plate as many times in one day as you did in a whole Little League season."

The spring-like weather we are having in Central Georgia this week compels me to say: "Come on kids. Get off the computer and get outside. We'll call you in just before dark."

Please don't feed the clergy

The pastor of Highland Hills Baptist Church in Macon, Ga., entered the coffee shop early Wed. morning and placed his breakfast order. Then he reached into his vacant back pocket.

"I forgot my wallet," he exclaimed.

Fortunately, one of his faithfu..., uh, one of his members was pecking on a laptop at a nearby hightop.

I pulled a $5 bill out of my pocket and handed it to him.

"Thanks. I'll get lunch today," he said as if he meant it.

Later that morning I picked him up and we traveled together down to Southwest Georgia for Millard Fuller's funeral.

Afterward, we — along with my friend, Marshall — entered a popular Americus restaurant that excels in cornbread.

"Put it all on one check," Pastor Jim said before the server even reached the table.

At the end of the meal he snatched up the check and bolted toward the cash register near the door. Marshall offered to leave the tip.

"No, I'm getting it all," the preacher said magnanimously.

He handed the cashier the check and his credit card. Though several steps behind, I heard her respond: "Sorry, but we don't take credit cards."

Guess who had no cash. This time I fished out a $20 bill and handed it to him. And I sent Marshall back to the table with four ones.

I'm booked in other pulpits for the next five Sundays. But when I return to Highland Hills, I hope the texts for the week include: "Am I my brother's keeper?"

In the meantime, I'll see how many meals I can get out of my now-empty wallet.

No wonder they used to pay 'em with tomatoes and corn.

'Master builder for God' remembered simply

Hundreds gathered today (Feb. 4) beneath the pecan trees of the once highly-controversial Koinonia Farms near Americus, Ga., to bury and honor Habitat for Humanity International founder Millard Fuller who unexpectedly died early yesterday morning at age 74.

On an unusually cold morning in Southwest Georgia, well-bundled admirers of the man of who gave away his personal wealth to invest his life in eliminating substandard housing sang impromptu hymns before an open red-clay grave as the family arrived.

Linda Fuller, who shared fully with her husband in the Christian enterprise now known worldwide, began the service by quietly placing a single rose and a hammer marked with a cross on top of the simply-constructed, unvarnished pine-box casket.

Chris Fuller, Baptist campus minister at Mercer University and oldest of the four Fuller children, thanked those in attendance for their support of his family during their time of grief. Yet he added that his father had a unique way of making everyone feel like part of their family.

"You are all his brothers and sisters," said Chris.

He told how four decades earlier his father had led a burial service in that same setting for Bible scholar Clarence Jordan — his mentor, author of The Cotton Patch Gospels and founder of Koinonia Partners that challenged the racial inequalities so prevalent in the rural South.

A second speaker, Judge George Peagler, called Millard a "master builder for God" and spoke of how his entrance into Heaven might be the first gift he received without trying to give it away.

In addition to hymns of faith, the crowd sang "Happy Birthday" as one of Millard and Linda's daughters had done spontaneously as a two-year old at Jordan's burial in 1969.

The service was not only reflective of Jordan's interment four decades earlier, but uniquely evident of Millard Fuller's life.

It was simple. The man who could make money so easily had long ago made a life-changing spiritual decision to "not store up treasures on earth."

It was quick. The service was held the day after his death certificate was signed.

It was inclusive. The interracial crowd was reflective of Millard's wide embrace. An African-American funeral home in Americus handled the limited arrangements.

For the first time in 74 years, the energetic, visionary Christian is still. But his mission has been multiplied.

One hammer has been silenced. Thousands of others tap in his memory.

[The family has requested that memorial gifts be made to the Fuller Center for Housing, 701 South Main St., Americus, GA 31709]

Millard Fuller at rest

Founder of Habitat for Humanity International and the Fuller Center for Housing, Millard Fuller died early this morning at age 74. Pray for his wife, Linda, and children, Chris, Kim, Faith and Georgia, and all the family.

He was an inspiring personality and one I was pleased to call a friend. His Christian commitment to eliminating poverty housing spread like wildfire.

More to follow as we remember this remarkable man's contributions.

Bumbling along

My daughter and I contributed to the strong second-place finish for the film "Paul Blart: Mall Cop" this weekend. That ranking comes on the heels of two straight weekends as the top-ranked movie.

Some church friends had mentioned that it was funny and family-friendly. While it had its moments, I must have napped through the best parts.

However, I found the Kevin James character very appealing. His work is seen as menial by others.Yet he is driven toward competence (if not excellence) by an internal force and the potential affirmation of one he admires.

He is combination superhero and bumbler. There is a little Paul Blart is all of us. It seems to be by divine design.

“After all, there isn’t anyone who doesn’t sin.” 2 Chronicles 6:36b (NIRV)

Paul: “I know there is nothing good in my sinful nature. I want to do what is good, but I can’t.” Romans 7:18 (NIRV)

Our greatest revelations of foolishness do not occur in our bumbling but rather in our attempts to appear as if we are not bumblers.