The USS Forrestal Fire

 The USS Forrestal Fire

My neighbor Hughey loaned me the book, Sailors to the End, the Deadly Fire on the USS Forrestal and the Heroes Who Fought It. This book has a special meaning for Hughey, for he served on the Forrestal prior to the tragedy of July 29, 1967, in which 134 men died and 161 were injured.

As is the practice with institutions, the U.S. Navy covered up the roots of the tragedy. From the flyleaf: “Sailors to the End also corrects the official view of the fire, providing evidence that the U. S. government compromised the ship’s safety by insisting on increased bombing despite the shortage of reliable [and safe!] weapons.” 

The author, Gregory A. Freeman, did a fine job of detailing the events and connecting us with the heroic sailors and pilots, but, considering that he is a journalist, he fell short – he did not ask the probing questions that begged to be asked. For there was a heroism that was not displayed, a heroism that, had it been displayed, may have saved lives. The heroism that I write of is that of asking hard questions and following them up with hard actions – in the face of a culture that discourages such questions and actions. 

The increased bombing of North Vietnam that the government insisted on, meant that the Forrestal was provided with out-of-date ordinance, bombs which did not meet safety standards on a number of levels, including having a high level of fire resistance. The sailors who were ordered to ship the bombs to the Forrestal knew there was a problem with the bombs. The sailors and officers who accepted the bombs on the Forrestal knew there was a problem. The doubts that were expressed were quickly covered up, orders were orders.

At the same time, two different teams on the Forrestal were bypassing electrical safety procedures in arming rockets on the fighter jets – and neither knew what the other was doing. Therefore, the safety features of the rockets were compromised not just once, but twice. These decisions were also made because of the pressure the carrier was under to meet the aggressive bombing schedule. Bypassing the safety measures meant the jets could be launched more quickly. 

The tragedy unfolded when, the day after the obsolete bombs were received by the carrier, a problem electrical circuit launched a rocket from one plane on the flight deck that hit another plane (which John McCain was in), which ignited a fire. As the fire suppression crews responded, one of the obsolete bombs on a plane exploded, killing many of the trained fire crew. Before the day was over, obsolete bomb after obsolete bomb exploded, killing and injuring sailors and pilots and blasting holes throughout the ship. The firemen assumed that the bombs on the planes were rated, per current standards, to withstand a fire for an hour or more, little did they realize that they running to their deaths. 

The electrical malfunction that launched the rocket occurred on a jet whose crew had bypassed the two safety protocols, had they been in place the launch could not have happened. Had obsolete bombs not been on the flight deck, the fire would have likely been limited. 

Freeman, the author, ought to have gone farther in his book, he ought to have asked the hard questions about Navy culture, about the cover-up, and he ought to have asked why we lack the courage to speak up in the face of danger, why we are trained and acculturated to go along to get along. He might have also asked why we simply don’t want to be bothered with the truth, not as individuals, and not as institutions. 

As much as we like to think that we live in a John Wayne culture (sorry, I’m not in tune with current actors and actresses so John Wayne is the best I can do), we are conformists at heart, our only question is which of the prevailing “cultures” we will conform to. 

And so we see professing Christians, across the spectrum, adopting the world and its ways and attempting to enforce tyranny on others as they align themselves with ideologies inimical to Jesus Christ, the Cross, and the Gospel. We see other professing Christians adopting a passivity that is inexplicable. I suppose some pastors think that if they don’t raise hard questions, including about the way we treat others, that they will preserve unity in their congregations, that if they don’t call their people to live as citizens of heaven first and foremost that all will be peaceful. 

If the bonds of a congregation cannot bear the challenge of difficult questions, if they cannot hold together amid the call to worship Jesus and Jesus alone, if they are so enfeebled as to not be able to consider difficult issues and obedient responses to Jesus…then what does such a people actually possess? Who are they? 

We load dangerous items onto our ships and we are afraid to speak up, to ask questions, to point out the lethal content of what we are inviting into our churches, seminaries, colleges, and other institutions. We have lost the capacity to be self-critical, just as our political, business, and academic leaders have abandoned self-criticism and honesty. On the other hand, we have sharpened our skills in ostracization and demonizing those who disagree with us – if it weren’t so tragic, we could applaud ourselves for becoming better at something.

What is beyond comprehension is that the Forrestal is on fire and we don’t even know it. 

Theo of Golden - Reflections (1)

 

Authorial Intent

A week or two ago I mentioned Theo of Golden, by Allen Levi. I am now reading it aloud to Vickie and it is not only working its magic upon her, but my own enjoyment increases with each page. There is something about reading aloud, and I think particularly reading aloud to another person. Tears, laughter, amazement, irony, character; it is like a 3-D viewer or movie. Plus, in my case, rereading gives me the added pleasure of seeing connections I didn’t see before and more deeply appreciating the author’s masterful tapestry. O yes, and reading to another person allows the reader to see and experience and share the wonder of the book, in this case Theo, with a friend, a spouse, a brother, or a sister.

One of my friends mentioned that at 399 pages it is a long book (I have my copy on Kindle). I love a journey. Beyond that, the story moves quickly and Mr. Levi is an artist who draws the reader into the story, the people, and the town of Golden. I can visualize myself sitting on a bench by the fountain, having a coffee and pastry, watching Theo engrossed in conversation on another bench, with a wrapped flat package across his thighs. 

I want to share some reflections on Theo of Golden, but, at least for now, I’m going to share them in such a way as not to give certain elements of the story away, for the spell of discovery permeates the book and I don’t want to deprive anyone of it, at least for now. 

Before I begin, I want to mention how I read this book. I covered this in my reflections on C. S. Lewis’s The Last Battle, but I think I should touch on it again, perhaps especially because, unlike Mr. Lewis, Mr. Levi is still very much alive and I wish him a long, fruitful, and joyous life. There is a tension in this subject, as there ought to be, I don’t purpose to relieve the tension, when we dissipate tension we lose energy. 

I begin with a statement intended to create attention and tension, “I don’t care what Allen Levi’s intent was when he wrote Theo of Golden.” In other words, I don’t care about authorial intent, at least as it is commonly understood. 

C. S. Lewis, Dorothy L. Sayers, Tolkien, and others maintained that a creator’s work should speak for itself, should stand on its own, be judged on its own. They scoffed at the obsession that authorial intent was critical to interpreting a text, as they did with other forms of textual criticism. 

For example, based on textual methodology employed by “scholars” in their time and in ours, Lewis could not have been the author of the Narniad, Miracles, The Discarded Image, Till We Have Faces, Mere Christianity, An Experiment in Criticism, and Out of the Silent Planet. He might have been the author of one or two of these, but he could not have been the author of them all because their genres are so different and their vocabularies so diverse. 

Tolkien wondered at the attempt of critics to read autobiographical and political statements into The Lord of the Rings. Sayers had no patience with people who wanted details of her personal life so they could better understand her writings, nor did she suffer those who did not understand the difference between her mystery writing, her plays, her theological writing, and her academic writing.

There are times when the work is greater than its creator. There is, I think, only one exception to this, and that is with the True and Living God, He is always above His work, yet He remains in His work, and we see Him through His work – whatever that might mean. For those of us created in His image, we don’t know about our work, we create what we create by His grace. I suppose the best we can say is that whatever we create flows from jars of clay, fractured in many ways, some flaws obvious, some not so obvious. The Maker’s mark is what matters.  

Lewis, Sayers, and others have insisted, “Let the work speak for itself. Judge the work not the creator, the author, the artist.”

Authors don’t always know what they write, though sometimes they’d better know, such as lawyers and judges and medical people, and this reminds us that we had better know what genre we are writing within and what genre we are reading – though there are times, and I think Theo is one of these, that we may not exactly know what genre is touching us. (Theo has led me to use the term, sacramental writing.) And yes, if you receive a letter from an attorney or physician you had better be sure you know the author’s intent!

Creative writing, and I think this encompasses more than we are aware of, has a life of its own well after it leaves the author’s hands. It has been said that Philip Schaff’s History of the Christian Church has a soul. I agree with this description, and thankful I am since it is 8 volumes. Bruce Catton’s 3 volume Army of the Potomac is written in such a sympathetic and poetic voice that after 50 some years I still enjoy its passages and often play them in my head. This is to say that we can experience creative writing in both fiction and nonfiction. Apart from technical and legal (maybe?) and medical writing, it is probably fair to say that there is fiction in nonfiction and nonfiction in fiction – but of course those are not genres as much as broad categories that are primarily useful in organizing libraries. 

The reason I don’t care about Mr. Levi’s intent in writing Theo of Golden, or in why he developed the characters, connections, and challenges, is that I want to experience the story directly, I want the story to capture me, to draw me into it, and to let me participate in it. Yes, it has already done this, but it continues to do so and I don’t want to lose the charm, the challenge, the magic or the mystery. 

Perhaps at some point I will watch or listen or read what Allen Levi says about writing Theo, but not now.

On the other hand, I do care about his intent! I care about whether I can trust Mr. Levi, but once I’ve established that I can trust him I move on from there, I leave the question of intent behind. I very much trust Allen Levi…and so now I can dispense with intent. 

I’ll try to explain. A few years ago there was a bestseller on Christian and non-Christian book lists, it was number 1 and people were raving about it. I was pastoring at the time, and for not the first time I read a book because “everyone” else was reading it. It did not take me long into the book to realize that I could not trust the author or his story, I realized he had an agenda that was inimical to the Christ of the Cross and the Cross of Christ. The story used Christian words and symbols and purported to portray God, but it was a spider’s web of deceit coated with honey, poisoned cotton candy. 

Not for the first time did I disappoint parishioners and colleagues by not going along with popular thinking.

I can enjoy and savor Theo because I trust both Theo and Allen.

A Modern-Day Roman Galley

 A Modern-Day Roman Galley

There are two ways to control people, one way is pain, and the other is pleasure. The ancient Romans employed both techniques, we in the United States tend to employ the latter. 

While the Romans certainly used the whip and exile and prisons, and of course forcing people to fight lions, and tigers and bears in the games; they also knew that the masses needed both bread and entertainment. One of the qualifications for high office in Rome was enough wealth to contribute to entertainment – one must keep the populace satiated with distraction and pleasure. 

Our own system is more refined than ancient Rome, and exquisitely subtle. In our system we get the people to pay for their own entertainment, to purchase their own opium, and if they can’t pay for it, we will allow them to borrow money to purchase the pleasure and give them the privilege of paying exorbitant interest. One need not be rich to hold high public office in the United States, though one can certainly become rich while doing so. 

So it occurred to me the other day, when watching a television ad for a cruise line, that what I was really watching was a Roman galley, a slave ship. The difference, of course, is that the men at the oars of the galley in ancient Rome knew that they were slaves and desired freedom; while the patrons of the cruise ship, which had the equivalent of a Six Flags park within and without, thought they were free and would no doubt take offense at the suggestion they were not.

This reminds me of the religious people saying to Jesus, “We are Abraham’s descendants and have never yet been enslaved to anyone” (John 8:33). All we need do is to read the Declaration of Independence if we have any doubts, “We are George Washington's descendants and have never been enslaved to anyone.” (Unless, of course, our ancestors were enslaved Native Americans or Africans, then the fiction might be harder to swallow.)

We are a people controlled by pleasure, and we think we are free because we get to pay for the pleasure. Sadly, this therapeutic imprisonment has permeated the professing church, and woe to the pastor who points us to the Cross of Christ and the cruciform life, woe to the fool who proclaims Mark 8:34 – 38 and expects his or her congregation to take discipleship seriously. Better to remain satiated slaves, better to serve Egypt than the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. 

After all, we are citizens of the United States, we are of the church of the United States, and we have never been in slavery to anyone. 

O dear friends, we are called to be the sons and daughters of the Living God and citizens of His heavenly Kingdom (Phil. 3:30). 

“For we have not received the spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but we have received the spirit of sonship as sons [and daughters] by which we cry out, 'Abba! Father!'” (Romans 8:15). 

The path to freedom in Christ begins with the confession that we are galley slaves. 

Theo of Golden

 Theo of Golden – Book Recommendation

I just read a deeply moving and thoughtful book, Theo of Golden, by Allen Levi, recommended by my friend Michael Daily. It is also a challenging book, challenging in that it calls me to a higher and deeper life in Christ and love and grace toward others. 

Here is the thing about this book recommendation, I can’t tell you what it is about. Well, I suppose I can tell you something. A gentle and quiet man visits a town in Georgia, has espresso in a coffee shop, sees portraits for sale by a local artist on the walls, and embarks on a mission to purchase each portrait and present it as a gift to the person captured in the portrait.

This is storytelling at its best, but it is more than that. It is sacramental. We see beyond what we see, we receive beyond what we see, what we read remains with us, and it takes root and grows within us. The power of this story is such that as I ponder it, new insights and questions unfold.

I am going back through Theo of Golden as I read it aloud to Vickie, savoring its rich texture. 

A question for me is, “Who has been Theo to me?” Another is, “Who can I be Theo to today?” Now for sure, there is more to this than may appear, that is an element of the discovery.

The last thing I’ll mention is that even though Theo of Golden is imbued with Christ Jesus, I would not classify it as a “Christian” book, but rather as a book written by a follower of Jesus and a fellow pilgrim. Nor would I call this a work of fiction. This is literature, it is as alive as my neighbor next door…and even more. Most of us can probably learn to play chopsticks on the piano, few of us can compose and play sweet music. Theo is sweet music, with a complex aroma, a bouquet if you will, like a fine port to be swished in the palette. 

I hope to write some reflections on Theo of Golden, but in the meantime, I encourage you to get to know him. Your life will be enriched. Below is the review I wrote on Amazon, which is where I purchased the book. 

Theo of Golden

A Golden Tapestry

The narrative tapestry is exquisite, with substantive character development, drawing the reader into the story, and the stories within the story. The questions the story raises, and the challenges it presents to the honest reader, make this surprising book a life partner, a friend to engage in conversation and accountability. I think that if I write anything more that I’ll spoil the adventure, and adventure it certainly is – an adventure without and within…and really now, isn’t that the best kind of adventure? 

The Law of Agency and Jesus

 

My business career was in property management. I held a real estate broker’s license in Maryland and Virginia and primarily worked in the multifamily industry, though I also dealt with homeowners’ associations and commercial property. I also taught continuing education for real estate agents and property managers. 

A key element of my career was understanding and living within the Law of Agency. This was also a vital element of pastoring, and it is a key element of my life, including writing. 

Within the Law of Agency is the idea of having a fiduciary duty to clients. There is no higher duty in English common law than having a fiduciary duty to someone. A fiduciary owes a duty of absolute loyalty and truthfulness to his or her principal. A fiduciary must always speak and act in the best interests of the principal. A fiduciary may not speak or act on his own authority, or in her own interests. A fiduciary must always keep the goals of the principal in mind and act in accordance with those goals. 

The exception to the above is when issues of morality, ethics, and legality come into play. In such instances the fiduciary ought to terminate the relationship if the client will not change his goals and behavior. A fiduciary must not lie for the principal or do anything that is not honest toward others. 

An agent, you see, is not his or her own, an agent is a fiduciary and is called to act as a fiduciary. Sadly, even though real estate agents must know this to pass their state licensing exams, many promptly forget this once they begin working as agents; whether as agents in the selling and buying of single-family homes and condominiums, or in property management. 

When I was taking industry certification courses early in my career, it was emphasized time and again, “Know your client’s goals. What does your client want?” Consequently, when I first met clients I would spend time asking them questions, trying to understand just what they wanted from their property. Did they want to sell their apartment community within the next five years? Did they want to pass it on to their children or grandchildren? What capital improvements did we need to make and how might we best implement them? 

Also, in order to serve my clients, I needed to understand not only real estate law, but also health and safety codes, employment law, building codes, environmental law, accounting, finance and the financial markets, elements of the federal tax code, contract law and negotiation, marketing, and many other things. Thankfully I worked with great teams and we tended to complement one another. 

I mentioned above that while real estate agents needed to have some understanding of the law of agency to pass state exams, that many promptly abandoned that understanding when they began their careers. I know this from my experience in teaching agents, and from working with agents in both the multifamily industry and in buying and selling our own homes. 

I have observed countless agents disclosing information that was detrimental to their clients. Such as a seller’s agent saying to a buyer, “I think my client will take less if you offer it.” I have also observed managing agents of properties forgetting the goals of their clients and substituting their own goals, putting their own profits ahead of the welfare of their clients. 

This breach of fiduciary duty also extends to keeping the principal (client) fully informed, and, once again, always telling everyone the truth – everyone. 

The Law of Agency requires that an agent always remember, “I do not belong to myself. I belong to my client; I owe my client absolute loyalty. I must not, I cannot, substitute my goals and my wants and my needs for that of my client.”

This calls to mind a similar principle that we find in the military. Once a man or woman takes the oath of induction, that woman or man no longer belongs to herself or himself – from that point until the time of discharge, she or he is the property of the U.S. Army, or other branch of service. 

Therefore, if a soldier goes to the beach and gets sunburned, so that he cannot report for duty and fulfill his obligations, that soldier can be discipled under the Uniform Code of Military Justice for damaging government property. Who is the government property? Why the soldier is – he no longer belongs to himself. 

Jesus was constantly saying, “I do nothing of Myself. I do what I see My Father doing. I speak what I hear My Father speaking.” 

Paul styled himself a slave of Jesus Christ, and he taught his people that they were not their own, but were bought with a price, the blood of the Lamb. 

When Paul wrote, “For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified,” he wrote this because he had no other warrant from Jesus Christ. 

No matter our place in the Body of Christ, we also have no other warrant. Whether we are teachers and professors, pastors, musicians, butchers, bakers, or candlestick makers, we have no other charge, no other commission, than to know and to represent Jesus Christ and Him crucified. 

The message of our Father to us today, and always, is “This is My Beloved Son, hear Him!” 

The faithful servant of Christ will have one desire, to betroth the Church to One Husband, so that to Christ we may be a pure virgin, lest we be corrupted from the “simplicity and purity of devotion to Christ” (2 Corinthians 11:1 – 3). 

As so I wonder how those who are called to facilitate such betrothal can be seduced into inviting other elements into the marriage bed. How have we convinced ourselves that we need more than Jesus? That we need more than the Person of Jesus Christ? How can we be faithful agents of the Bridegroom while encouraging the Bride to have relationships with other suitors? Who, of course, are false suitors; who would destroy the purity of her devotion to the Bridegroom.

Our Bridegroom has called us to a fiduciary relationship in which we represent Him and Him alone, in which we are faithful to Him and His Bride, and yet we invite others in the Holy Bedroom. How have we convinced ourselves that this is good for our people, the people who Jesus has entrusted to us? 

If Jesus has captured our hearts, then we will want the hearts of our people to be captured by Jesus. Can we be honest enough to see this? Have we forgotten our calling in Jesus Christ?

Are we not like the people of Haggai’s time, who were set free from captivity to return to Jerusalem to restore the Temple, and yet, having returned, they built their own houses? 

Where is the pastor, the professor, the seminary, the congregation, that will be faithful to Jesus, that will teach us to see Jesus, and only Jesus?

And if you are offended by this, how could you possibly be offended by a poor fool who only wants Jesus, and who only wants Jesus for you? 

Can we ever have enough of Jesus? 

Jesus the Samaritan, My Mother the Jew

 Jesus the Samaritan, My Mother the Jew

Throughout the Gospel of John, we witness conflict between Jesus and the religious leaders, the religious leaders animated by Satan. It is reassuring to know that our leaders, whether religious or political, would never resort to the tactics employed by Jesus’ adversaries. 

John 8:30 – 59 has held my attention for many years, in that while in 8:30, “Many came to believe in Him,” before the chapter concludes in 8:59, we see that they are “Picking up stones to stone Him.” This is much like John 6:26 – 69, where we go from many following Him, to “Many of His disciples withdrawing” from Him (John 6:66). We ought not to be so foolish as to think that great numbers indicate fidelity to Jesus, after all, Jesus teaches that His Way is narrow and that few find it. 

In 8:44 Jesus says, “You are of your father the devil, and you want to do the desires of your father. He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth because there is no truth in him. Whenever he speaks a lie, he speaks from his own nature, for he is a liar and the father of lies.” 

It does not appear that Jesus understood marketing (and he certainly wasn’t seeker sensitive), for this is hardly the way to retain followers. The religious leaders respond with yet another attack on Jesus.

“Do we not say rightly that you are a Samaritan and have a demon?”

What do you think about this charge against Jesus? 

Is it true? You will be graded on this. And for all I know your life may be determined by your answer, at least if we take Jesus at His Word. Why your thoughts and actions this very day may be determined by your answer.

How does Jesus respond?

“I do not have a demon; but I honor My Father, and you dishonor Me” (8:49).

What does Jesus say? 

What does Jesus say that He does not say? 

The enemies of Jesus make two accusations against Him, how does He respond to them? For He does indeed respond to both. Can you “see” His response? 

The first response is a flat denial of having a demon, this is not the first time this charge has been made (Mark 3:22 – 27), but how does Jesus respond to the charge of being a Samaritan? 

My dear mother, who my brothers and I lost when we were all too young, was once in a group of folks when the conversation turned to Jews. What was being said was not complimentary. Finally, my dear Mom, Alice Francis, said, “You know, of course, that I am Jewish.” 

Well, that was like a skunk taking a stroll down the aisle of a Sunday morning service, or like unveiling a wedding cake to find a road apple on the top tier where figures of the bride and groom ought to be. 

My dear Momma was a Jew, she was a Negro (to use the word in use at the time), she was Irish, she was Italian, she was Chinese, she was Cherokee, and she was Puerto Rican. 

And Jesus was most certainly a Samaritan. 

Jesus died for Samaritans and as a Samaritan. 

Jesus died for Italians and as an Italian. 

Jesus died for Venezuelans and as a Venezuelan. 

And Jesus makes it clear, that the way we treat others is the way we treat Him (Matthew 25:31 – 46). 

James points out the incongruity of blessing God one moment, and cursing men the next, men and women and children made in the image of God (James 3:9). 

If we are truly the children of our Father in heaven, then we will act like His daughters and sons, we will bless all peoples, care for all peoples, serve all peoples, and honor all peoples. And we most certainly will not accept lies and slanders which aim to separate people from one another (and manipulate us), people for whom Christ died…has not Jesus shown and commanded us to live in a Better Way? His Way? 

Jesus was a Samaritan. 

Momma was a Jew. 

I am a Mexican. 

What about you? 

Bumper Cars

Our neighbor is playing in a 7 – 8 years old basketball league for boys. They play six – minute quarters and fouls are seldom called, if fouls were called the games would last all day. There is a lot of shooting but generally not much scoring. We went to a game a week ago in which our young friend’s team did not score a single point in one quarter. 

I’m not sure if pinball or bumper cars best describes the game. Not only does the basketball bounce around the court, but the kids bounce off each other – I’m surprised they don’t wear football gear. 

Some kids get the ball and freeze, not knowing what to do with it. Most get the ball and shoot. They shoot whether they are under the basket, at the three-point line, or at half-court, they shoot whether there is a defender in front of them or not, whether there are three defenders in front of them or not, they shoot if the defender is a foot taller or not…they shoot, shoot, shoot. The only consistency in the shooting is that the ball will eventually come back to earth, whether it will come down in the court or out-of-bounds is, of course, another matter. 

If there are any assist leaders, it is purely accidental. Passing the ball to a teammate is a sign of weakness. 

The kids play hard, and they play tough, and generally they play good naturedly. There is pushing and banging and holding and falling on the floor, on the ball, and on one another. But they keep going. Controlled chaos. Bumper cars. 

Is it possible we are all playing in this league and don’t know it? Is it conceivable that we’re all in bumper cars, banging into each other, sometimes intentionally, most times (let us hope) in ignorance?

Is it possible that we just aren’t as smart as we think we are, and that we’ve been relationally stupid at times, really, really dumb? Is it likely we have shot the ball too much, not passed it enough, and knocked others down in our confusion and disorientation? 

In my own season of life, I have looked back, by God’s grace (though it doesn’t always feel like grace!) and seen myself in certain times and thought, “O my, I didn’t see that. I didn’t understand. I could have been more thoughtful. How selfish I was. How immature.” 

I also see others with more mercy and grace and forgiveness, for as I have been blind, others have been blind. We’ve all played bumper cars, We’ve all, at least I think all, have played in the 7 – 8 years old basketball league. 

I once met a former pastor who had been ill treated by a church – not an unusual occurrence. He and his wife had been through hell, also not an unusual occurrence. He said to me, “If they (the congregation) had realized what they were doing, they wouldn’t have done it.” 

That observation has stayed with me and I have remembered it when ill has been done to me, but also when I have “seen” the times I have harmed others. I have done things without realizing what I was doing, to my shame. 

A few weeks ago one of my neighbors was complaining about another neighbor who he felt had been rude to him, and he told me, “I’m through with him.” 

Now these guys have known each other for years. They can both be abrupt, but that’s just the way they are. It’s just bumper cars. To allow one or two bangs from a bumper car to upset a relationship is not too bright, we can learn from the boys’ basketball league. We all have our flat spots, we all have our blind spots – and it can be a relief to realize that and get on with life. 

I don’t care how long you park your new car away from other cars in the shopping center parking lot, eventually it will have a scratch or mark – either caused by someone else or self-inflicted. Even if others don’t see it, you’ll know it’s there. 

When I watch our young friend’s basketball games, I think, “Yep, this is life. If only we could learn from them. We’re all in bumper cars, if only we could learn to have fun at it, be forgiving, and play the game.”

“Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you” (Ephesians 4:32). 

Doctors Without Borders and Judgment Day

 Doctors Without Borders and Judgement Day

When I was a lad, I was taught that one of God’s attributes is omniscience, that He is all knowing. Let us hope it isn’t true and let us at least hope that He is unaware of Doctors Without Borders. 

In Matthew 12:41 – 42 Jesus says that at the Judgment the people of Nineveh and the Queen of the South will condemn the people of Jesus’ time and place because they responded to the lesser lights of Jonah and Solomon, while the people who heard and saw Jesus rejected the Light of all lights. 

Doctors Without Borders, encompassing doctors, nurses, and other volunteers from a multitude of nations, go wherever a medical need is, often risking their lives, sometimes suffering casualties and death, enduring privations and seemingly impossible working conditions, not seeing borders or barriers between nations and peoples, but rather seeing suffering humanity. 

Yet the professing Church of Jesus Christ has not only built borders and barriers within nations, with traditions and denominations and congregations sealing themselves off from one another, but it has built national and political borders and become the servant of political, economic, and national agendas. Rather than rendering to Caesar what is Caesar's, the professing Church is rendering to Caesar what is God’s.

How can we speak of sending missionaries and engaging in short-term mission trips, when we will not serve the many peoples who have come to the United States to escape the horrors of war, crime, famine, oppression, and deprivation? Is it not incongruous to speak of building schools or sending clothes or food or medical supplies to other lands if, when the people of those lands are in our own communities, we do not know them and will not get to know them and extend ourselves to them with the love of Jesus Christ?

Jesus brings the nations to us, and we reject the nations. Many of these people are our brothers and sisters in Christ, all of these people are made in the image of God. Many of these people are already members of the Body Christ, all of these people are part of our family of humanity, the family made in the image of God (Ephesians 3:15). 

Of course, our behavior should not surprise us, for within the United States there are social and economic and racial and ethnic barriers and borders within society and within the professing Church – so in one sense we are simply treating “outsiders” as we already treat those within our national borders. 

What will historians say about us?  

Will they say that God sent the people of the nations to the United States, and that the United States rejected them? More importantly, will they say that God sent people to the Church in America, and that the Church told God to take them back? 

Are we not the essence of “Not in my backyard”?

More importantly what will God say? 

This is a question easily answered. “I was hungry, and you gave Me nothing to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me nothing to drink; I was a stranger, and you did not invite Me in; naked and you did not clothe Me; sick, and in prison, and you did not visit Me…Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me” (see Matthew 25:31 – 46). 

Well, let us hope that God is not omniscient. 

Let us hope that Doctors Without Border does not appear at the Judgment to accuse us, for we will have no defense. 

Levi Davenport and the Only Question That Matters

I was too stupid to know it at the time, but I was in the presence of greatness. This is often the case with me. Yet, I didn’t miss the significance of what he asked, it is still as if I heard it yesterday. I understood the greatness of the question, but I missed the greatness of the man. As I write this, the greatness of the man humbles me, Christ in the man humbles me.

It was during lunch in a restaurant in Pittsfield, Massachusetts that I heard the only question that matters. A group of pastors of the denomination I was associated with was having a lunch meeting with a denominational official. Since I was the newest pastor at the table I listened. Listening is often safe, plus I’m reminded of the teaching of Proverbs that even a fool, if he holds his tongue, is thought to be a man of wisdom. I was less interested in being perceived a man of wisdom, than I was in not being perceived as a fool. 

Levi Davenport was the oldest pastor at the table, and he mostly listened. In his case, he listened because he was wise. As I look back on my association with Levi, I don’t recall one stupid word ever coming from his mouth. As I consider that Jesus says that we’ll be held accountable for every word we speak, I have an image of Levi spending less time before our dear Lord on this matter than me. Why can’t I have a Rose Mary Woods erasing tapes for me? 

We had finished our meal, the round table had been cleared, and we continued to talk. Levi was seated a couple of chairs to my right, his hands folded over his Santa Claus tummy, his eyes peering over his reading glasses perched at the end of his nose. 

We talked, and we talked. I have no recollection of what we talked about. 

Finally Levi spoke in his heavy Massachusetts accent, with light in his eyes, with kindness in his voice, and with a smile on his face, he looked around the table at each of us, including the denominational official, and asked, “But what about Jesus? But what about Jesus?”

Levi’s question brought me back to my senses, it cleared the religious and ecclesiastical atmosphere, it opened the windows, allowing the fresh air of the Holy Spirit into the room. It was like Glenda waking Dorothy and friends up in the poppy field so they could continue their journey to Oz. 

Jesus Himself asks, “But who do you say that I am?” (Matthew 16:15). 

This is not only the most important question, it is the only question, it is the only question that matters. It is the only question that ever matters. 

Are we asking this question? 

This morning? 

Throughout the day?

Is this question our center of gravity? 

In Hebrews 11:4 we read concerning Abel, “Though he is dead he still speaks.” 

While Levi went to be with Jesus quite a few years ago, he is more alive to me today that he has ever been. 

I hear his voice right now asking, “But what about Jesus? But what about Jesus?”