In a new study just released, it has been proven that wild dogs, wolves, and dingoes have higher intelligence than domestic dogs.  We’ve bred the resourcefulness and resilience out of our own pets.  Here is one of the intelligence tests they used:  dogs and dingoes were shown a V shaped fence with dog food on the other side.  The dingoes all scored with highest honors on this canine ACT test.  Domestic pets simply waited it out, sure that they would get a Milk Bone when it was all over.  This is not good.

My plan is to talk this over with my dogs.  As I’m sitting at the computer writing this, one of my dogs (a geriatric dachshund with a particularly tender disposition) is crying at my feet, waiting to be put up on the couch nearby, so that he can fall asleep on a pillow.  Oh, brother.  In another part of the house, another dachshund is sleeping on a nice straw mat on the patio that I bought at an import store.  This constitutes the dog’s entire afternoon.  That’s it.  Sleeping on a mat.

Maybe we should work out something like a “feral vacation” for these dogs, where they could partake in extreme sports, like running away fast with someone’s garbage, or cowing a cat in a corner.  I don’t know, though.  They seem domesticated beyond repair to me.  It’s kind of sad. 

Other stuff I’m reading says that Christians have become way too domesticated.  By that I mean that we have become far too dependent on “experts” to know things about the Bible, to pray, and to relate to others as people of faith.  How we’ve all become so domesticated (tame?) is beyond me, but I can see that it has happened.  We all pray
Come, Holy Spirit” each Sunday before communion, but if the Holy Spirit zoomed through our worship space like on the Day of Pentecost, producing fire, fire-y faith, and actual excitement, we’d just call 911. I know.  I have 911 on speed dial for just such occasions.

So, I decided to talk this problem over with my congregation.  I started asking them about their lives of faith at home.  Prayer at home?  Devotions?  Talking about the events of the day in terms of faith?  Hospitality toward others?  The silence could be embarrassing, but not always.  People sometimes produced great stories from their lives about how they shared the faith (one woman who had had breast cancer joined an organization that links those with the diagnosis with survivors, to share faith, questions, doubt, and reassurance as only those who know what its like can do).  People produced stories that told me that they understood that church is in more than one place.  It’s usually where it is needed, if you are there to provide it.
And we began to understand that “church” in a domestic (read: home or real life) setting is anything but domesticated.  It’s powerful, free, and good.  Church in a church-y building is good.  It lifts my spirits, directs my heart, and fills my mind with good things.  But church wasn’t meant to be a container, nor Christians, domesticated.

Rev. Richard Dow

2 Samuel 15:21

But Ittai replied to the king, “As surely as the Lord lives, and as my lord the king lives, wherever my lord the king may be, whether it means life or death, there will your servant be.”

 Who was Ittai? He was a foreigner. He was an exile. He had barely even been with David. And so David tells Ittai to leave while he can; this wasn’t his fight. David even sends him and his countrymen off with a blessing.

But Ittai’s loyalty runs deep. We don’t know why, and I’m not sure that even matters. Ittai responds to David with these words:

“As surely as the Lord lives, and as my lord the king lives, wherever my lord the king may be, whether it means life or death, there will your servant be.”

 David clearly recognized and appreciated this loyalty and so honored Ittai by permitting Ittai, his men and his families to stay on.

Such loyalty it rare today. Whenever I see such displays in a movie or a book, they virtually jump off the screen or page at me, demanding to be noticed and honored.

I wonder how many followers of Christ would follow their Lord wherever he may go and to whatever end. Our Lord goes everywhere. He goes into our families, our homes, our workplaces, our thought-lives, our churches, our TV rooms, our cars, our grocery-store checkout lines, our conversations, and on and on and on. Not only does he go to those places but he claims Lordship over those places. And it is not an empty claim. He has been given authority in those places. Ephesians 1:22 says:

“And God placed all things under [Christ’s] feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church…”

 Christ is the King over all things, the Lord over every sphere of life. That’s simply a fact about reality. And yet there is a sense in which, in this present age, he is still seeking to extend his Kingdom into every sphere of life. It’s part of the “already and not yet” nature of his Kingdom. And what is so very odd is that he calls those of us who are his followers to be the very ones who extend his Kingdom. In other words, he extends his Kingdom through us. Truly amazing!

And so, will we be loyal and faithful to our Lord as Ittai was to King David? Will we follow our Lord to whatever end? We don’t have to guess as to whether or not there will be death. For there will be. That’s an up-front promise by our Lord himself.

First and foremost there will be a death to self. For there to be fruit a seed must die. For Christ’s followers to bear fruit for our King we must die to ourselves – to our sin, our flesh, our agendas, our self-centeredness, our egos, our idols, and so forth. Make no mistake about it, this is death and it can be quite painful.

And yet there is also the promise of life: real life, everlasting life, fullness of life. And this promised life is just as guaranteed as our death. For as we die with Christ so too are we raised with him – to be and become as he is.

For the beauty of all that has been said is found in the truth that our King has already been where he calls us to go. Furthermore, he has promised to travel with us and to encourage, strengthen, and guide us along the way…the narrow way.

That’s a comforting thought indeed.

Stand Firm,
Dale

Pastor Tedder serves as Minister of Discipleship at Southside United Methodist Church and blogs at Renovate Your Life

I haven’t told this story for a long time, but it seems to fit what’s happening in our churches and our world right now. Here’s the story.

Our family has always had dachshunds, as least as far back as the early 1960’s. When I was ordained and Missy and I moved out of an apartment into an actual house, one of the first things we did was get a dachshund and name it Tootie. We changed jobs, moved, moved again, had children, and suddenly it was 17 years later. Tootie was now a geriatric pet, old and slow and ill. When the kids were little, she used to check on them as they slept each night. She was a loving dog in many ways and we didn’t like to think about the end of her life. We discussed the possibilities and tried to get ourselves ready for the inevitable.

One day as I was working in the front yard, our neighbor came over. She said that she had heard us talking about Tootie, and wanted to know more about her. I began to supply the details, about how loving she was, how much a part of the family, but how, now, in her later years she was no longer able to sleep in the bed and wet outside.

At this point, my neighbor’s eyes grew to the size of saucers and her jaw dropped. But, I continued to speak. “Tootie has great sentimental value to our family, but soon we will need to put her down and bury her in the backyard.”

Now, the neighbor could take no more. She said, “Richard! You are talking about your wife!” My response: “No I’m not. I’m talking about our dog!” I can’t remember when we stopped laughing (it took quite a while) but needless to say, from that time on we were much more diligent in using our listening skills.

My neighbor and I continued to laugh about the Tootie story until the day they moved away. As it turned out, not only did we lose Tootie eventually, but they lost their little son in a car accident. Careful listening helped me give them a meaningful funeral service, and to pick up on stages of grief and emotional needs in the long summer afterward. If I had one wish for those times, it would be that I had listened even more carefully and compassionately.

Martin Luther said of the 8th commandment that we should explain our neighbor’s actions in the kindest possible way. What that means to me is that our listening should be not only pinpoint accurate, but compassionate. When you listen, ask questions to clarify instead of saving your reaction for later. I’m thinking about the way church life and community life can be vastly improved by some basic listening skills. Listen accurately and compassionately. Among other things, you’ll be doing Tootie a big favor.

Pastor Richard W. Dow
St. Mark’s Lutheran Church

This Sunday, February 21, from 12:00 p.m. – 2:00 p.m., East Coast Church will be hosting a picnic open to the public. The family picnic will take place in Landon Park located at 1800 San Marco Boulevard. East Coast Church was established by Kevin Connell and hosts services every Sunday at 10:30 a.m. in the San Marco Theater. Since the Church’s inception they have handed out 60 jackets to the needy, donated$1,400 to Haiti, and helped an orphanage in Uganda. No reservations are required, all ages are welcome.

by Dale Tedder

 Psalm 22:4-5, 30-31

In you our fathers put their trust; they trusted and you delivered them. They cried to you and were saved; in you they trusted and were not disappointed. …Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord. They will proclaim his righteousness to a people yet unborn – for he has done it.

It has been said that the problem with living is that it’s so daily. The same could be said of parenting. Whether it’s getting your children to eat their vegetables, clean up their rooms, do their schoolwork, or have good manners, parenting is daily. Consistency and intentionality are absolutely required. And in no area of parenting is this truer than in passing on our faith – our beliefs, worldview, values, character, conduct, etc., to our children.

 What we’re talking about here is spiritual reproduction.

 The primary truism about spiritual reproduction is this: We can’t reproduce what we’re not ourselves. Cats aren’t going to reproduce dogs, no matter what. We reproduce what we are. Therefore, it’s absolutely imperative that moms and dads are daily, consistently, intentionally, and faithfully practicing the faith they profess…the faith they are seeking to instill in the hearts, minds, and souls of their children.

 In a real sense, this is more than mere example. Faith really needs to be in the “DNA” of the parents. Having said that, example is vital because children will copy what is being modeled for them at home. It wasn’t dumb luck that my kids all turned out to be Georgia Bulldog fans.

 But passing on our faith requires more than example. We are called to actively lead them, instruct them, tell them, pray with them, pray for them, admonish them, counsel them, and nurture them (love them!!!). The call to pass on our faith to our children in this manner (as well as to pray that it extends to our children’s children for a thousand generations) runs throughout Scripture. For example…

 Deuteronomy 6:4-9 – Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. [5] Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. [6] These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. [7] Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. [8] Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. [9] Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.

 Psalm 78:1-7

O my people, hear my teaching;
listen to the words of my mouth.
[2] I will open my mouth in parables,
I will utter hidden things, things from of old–
[3] what we have heard and known,
what our fathers have told us.
[4] We will not hide them from their children;
we will tell the next generation
the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord,
his power, and the wonders he has done.
[5] He decreed statutes for Jacob
and established the law in Israel,
which he commanded our forefathers
to teach their children,
[6] so the next generation would know them,
even the children yet to be born,
and they in turn would tell their children.
[7] Then they would put their trust in God
and would not forget his deeds
but would keep his commands.

 Ephesians 6:4 – Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.

 These are just three clear examples of Scripture’s overwhelming multigenerational vision for the extension of God’s kingdom. Many more could be cited. In truth, we’re talking about more than quoting a few texts. This multigenerational vision is a key thread that runs from Genesis to Revelation.

Early in Psalm 22, the psalmist declared that those who came before his generation put their trust in the Lord and were not disappointed. Later in the same Psalm he stated that future generations would also serve the Lord because they would be told about the Lord. If you really think about it, how else will Christianity be passed on? If the love, holiness, grace, works, and words of God are going to be known two hundred years from now, then we must pass them on.

 But to whom? Some Christians talk about the need to evangelize and disciple the lost but forget about God’s covenant children under their own roof. If we think in terms of concentric circles, our next priority (or circle) after our own relationship with God (because, again, we can’t reproduce what we’re not ourselves) should be our own family. Our goal, of course, is that our children come to know, love and follow God and pass on that faith to their children and their children’s children for a thousand generations (Deut. 5:10, 7:9).

 (By the way, it goes without saying that we are to make disciples of all nations, but this is a devotional about passing our faith on to our children.)

 In a real sense, our children are not our own. They are God’s. We are stewards of God’s children. That means that we have been given the vital and joyful responsibility and blessing of raising these children to know, love and follow their heavenly Father. And while such an upbringing is so daily, we need to realize that we only get one chance. It’s my prayer that God will honor the prayers, blood, sweat, tears, effort, and love that we pour into our children (his children). To see them become the godly adults that we’ve been striving for will make it all worth it in the end.

 Soli Deo Gloria,
Dale

East Coast Church at the San Marco Theatre

By: Kevin Connell
Lead Pastor, East Coast Church

The start of a new year is here. Along with a new year comes new resolutions, new beginnings, and a fresh start. I want to invite you to be a part of a new church in the San Marco area. This Sunday East Coast Church will be having its first service at 10am in the historic San Marco Theater.  We began planning our journey five months ago in August. This week we will see it come to fruition.

The vision is to “build a bridge that brings a voice”. Our desire is to live beyond ourselves, touch the community, and earn the right to be heard. We have tried to accomplish this goal by holding a jacket drive for a local middle school, giving out free water bottles, and by sponsoring six families for Christmas. To help those in need is one of our greatest joys. We believe that we have a life-changing message of hope and desire to share it through serving others. On January 17th we will unveil our plan to partner with a local Jacksonville missionary who desires to reach orphans in Uganda by teaching them photography.

Feel free to bring your children as we have Eat Coast Kids for ages birth up to 1st grade. By visiting our website www.eastcoastchurch.net, you can connect with us on Twitter & Facebook, or you can send us an email with questions at info.eastcoast@gmail.com.  We would love to see you this weekend and have you as our guest. Thank you for allowing us to be a part of the San Marco Community!

Of course I love Christmas – I’m a Christian, and we love our holidays, sometimes with a vengeance! As it happens, I’m attracted to some aspects of Christmas more than others.

I told this story once in a sermon to my congregation as December 25th was approaching. I was shopping for gifts and found myself on the up escalator in Dillards, in Shreveport, Louisiana. Just ahead of me was a woman talking frantically into her cell phone. She was saying, “I’m shopping, you fool! I’ve eaten my way out of every dress I own, and I have to get another one before tonight’s party!” With that, she clicked her phone shut and headed toward the dress department. Standing only a few feet behind her, I suppressed a smile.

When I told my congregation about this, I’m sure they thought I was scolding them for being too much “of this materialistic world” or something, and that I was going to remind them that Christmas is a celebration of the meek and lowly in the world, and how God works with them to bring God’s grace. They thought they were in for a lecture about the proper seasonal humility, as opposed to our customary orgy of yuletide greed. What they failed to see was that in the escalator story, it was I just behind the woman on the phone, not them.

In the telling of the escalator story, I was ready to laugh at myself a little as Christmas approached. I was remembering the first time I saw a movie like 1980’s Ordinary People, in which a family who has lost its oldest son pursues a “perfect Christmas,” with a vengeance. They don’t get it. Truth to tell, most of us don’t. Better to laugh at temporary shortsightedness in ourselves and try to look at Christmas differently.

In that spirit, I have an announcement to make. I love Christmas when it isn’t perfect. There was a time when I used to ask the church music director to get out the William Billings Christmas anthems for the choir to perform. Billings was an early American composer, and a gifted amateur musician. He is as famous for his mistakes (weird harmonies, etc.) as he is for his tender musical way of looking at the manger and what happens there. But, as I say, that’s what I love about Christmas. I love it when it isn’t perfect.

This year, our congregation has a bunch of families who are willing to give up part of what could have been a magazine-perfect holiday gathering at home with loved ones to (a) cook and serve food to, as well as (b) stay overnight at church with, and (c) offer hope to families who have lost their homes and are trying to stay together, keep the kids in school, and get jobs and a home again. These families will be with us for one week, and by the luck of the draw our church got late December, including Christmas eve. In effect, our church is asking its people to have a less than perfect Christmas by giving to people who can’t give back. We are asking people (me included) to love Christmas when it is less than perfect.

Can you slow down an escalator? That’s what I wonder when I think of the woman ahead of me at Dillards, searching for … for what? A bigger dress? More holiday thrills? She will find them, if that’s what she wants. Meanwhile, I love the kind of Christmas that’s less than perfect, one that’s kind of like the first, but in a different way. Can you slow down an escalator? This year, I think I did. And I love it.

Rev. Richard W. Dow,
Senior Pastor, St. Mark’s Lutheran Church

by Gary Lee Webber, Senior Pastor

Southside Baptist Church

I traveled to a third world country this summer. My heart was broken by the poverty and despair of the people I met on the busy city streets. The more time I spent with the nationals the more I recognized how much they value friendship and family. In the absence of the material these sweet people focused more on the relational. My feelings quickly moved from pity to envy.

Upon my return to a US airport I was immediately overwhelmed with the abundance we so often take for granted. I watched people in busy terminal restaurants leave more food on a plate than many of my new friends would see in a week. The 60 inch flat screen plasma TVs mounted every 50 feet throughout the airport contained story after story of the depths and despair of the current US recession. Along the busy terminal there were kiosks displaying jewelry and all of the latest electronics. A news stand had magazines and newspapers all of which proclaimed gloomy reports about the condition of the American economy. Such irony had been lost on me until then.

While I was readjusting to the wealth of my surroundings, I was also struck with the isolation of the people by whom I was surrounded. In the middle of this huge mass of humanity I felt alone. People were walking past talking on their cell phones or listening to their iPods. Every table in the busy airport restaurants were full with people dinning alone.

My realization was startling. Surrounded by wealth, we fear a financial poverty we do not know only to ignore a relational poverty that separates and isolates us all. My friends in the third world are relationally wealthy where we are stricken with relational poverty. My question has since been which is worse?

This Thanksgiving I am acutely aware of both the tremendous need in the world and the abundance with which I am blessed. I am thankful and mindful of the words of Jesus, “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”

by Richard W. Dow

I started it.  I was in charge of a very small scholarship fund for college students who were raised in the congregation I was serving.  When I say small, I mean really small.  The biggest awards could buy a couple of books per semester.  Really small.  But, money is money.

I started it, but the rest of the scholarship committee filled in the blanks quickly.  We would host a midwinter reception at my home to welcome back college students and publicize the fund. The committee planned cucumber sandwiches, punch, some cheese balls, etc.  It would be a party for the well mannered and the select.

I sent out the invitations myself, and one name got on the list that, maybe, didn’t belong there.

About 20 years old and a son of the congregation, he showed up in black jeans, a “wife beater” athletic shirt (in the middle of winter) and a leather jacket, the kind with lots of zippers and weathering.  Daily grooming was maybe not his thing.  My assessment: this was not a college student.  The other kids were mingling by the food, getting drinks, talking about courses and majors and plans for next summer.  The guy with the leather jacket had nothing to do, or say.  I said, “Can I take your coat?”

Wrong move.  He launched into a long explanation about how he learned a long time ago that he always kept his sights on the door and always kept his jacket on.  “No, thanks, sir.”  The jacket stayed on.  My duties as a host were going nowhere.

I thought about this for a minute.  The reception, paid for by the scholarship committee, was for college students, which this guy wasn’t.  However, for some strange reason, he had showed up.  He was as different from the college kids across the room as night from day.  I decided to talk to him.   The college kids seemed fine on their own.

I’m not sure what happened next, but a Sunday or two later his parents were in church (this was not a frequent occurrence).  They thanked me profusely for being so nice to their son.  From what they said, that didn’t happen very often.   He felt welcomed.  I never saw him again.

So, what do you think?  Should people in the church just save being nice to people who look and act like they will bring something to the church?  Or, should we really reach out to people who don’t look like they belong, or (more to the point) don’t look like they will probably come back or do the church any good?

I’ll admit it.  More than once, at the reception between services, people have surreptitiously notified me that a new family is in attendance and I should greet them.  That’s code for “They look nice, they look like they have good jobs, they look like us.”

I greet them cheerfully, take genuine interest in them, and hope in earnest that they come back.  Often, they do.  They are welcome to all the caring, attention, love, and prayer we can offer.

The point of this article is, what do nice church people like you and like me do with those who show up but don’t look and act like they belong?

Years after the scholarship party, I was working at a homeless shelter with a youth group one Saturday night.  A young guy of about 14 and I were serving donated food to some rough and ready street guys.  One guy stood up before dinner and told the rest of us that he was sure ready for some eatin’s, and when he was growing up he ate possum when things got bad, so bring it on!  My young friend and I behind the food counter were in charge of distributing – you guessed it – left over cucumber sandwiches from some party or other.  When the possum guy came by, he looked over our wares and said, “What’s them?” in a menacing way.  My young assistant almost fainted.  I said, “They’re cucumber sandwiches.  They’re good for you.  I know from experience.  And I ate one myself, while offering another to him.  He took almost all we had.  And I thought, one day, one of these guys is going to feel safe enough to leave his jacket behind in a church and find a home there.  I’m still hoping.  What about you?

Richard W. Dow

Senior Pastor, St. Mark’s Lutheran Church.

by Dr. Vincent Kolb

For a brief period of time, I was a theatre major in school. One of the plays that I was introduced to during that time was the American classic, “Our Town”, by Thornton Wilder.

In the play, Emily, a young woman who has died, is permitted to return to her home to relive one day with her family. She chose the day of her 12^thbirthday. But when she comes back, she is very disappointed. Everyone is just too busy! Her brothers and sisters, even her father and her mother, are too preoccupied with the busyness of life to stop and see the others, or even to enjoy life itself. Emily pleads with them to look at her, to see one another, to see what life is all about. But they are too busy to stop. They are insulated, imprisoned in their empty, harried world. Finally, Emily cries out in despair, “Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?”

To me, her question is at the heart of what it means to be a grateful person. Gratitude is the capacity to savor life as we are living it, to realize that all of life is a miracle, that existence in God’s world is a wonder. To live in gratitude is to realize and remember that nothing separates us from Christ’s love, that there is no moment in our lives,  however dark or desperate, that does not contain within it a saving opportunity.

I hope that you will be “in the moment” in the course of your November journey-the moment of gratitude, realizing the great wonder of life in the middle of living it.

Dr. Vincent Kolb

South Jacksonville Presbyterian Church