ENOUGH! What Can I Do?

I am saddened, sickened, and heartbroken as I keep hearing stories like the murder of Ahmaud Arbery in Georgia. I have reached the point where I believe that feeling outrage and dismay is no longer enough for followers of Jesus. I want to do something. Today I yield my space to two black brothers in Christ. Montagne McDonald is the teaching pastor at the historic King Solomon Missionary Baptist Church in Nashville, Tennessee. Duke Barnett is a respected leader and educator in Garland. I asked these two good and thoughtful men an important question. What can I do as a white brother in Christ to make a difference in our culture? Duke and Montagne, the forum is yours. Duke Barnett: For me, I wrestle with this topic because so many of my White brothers and sisters recognize the rampant inequalities, racism, and disrespect for people of color. They also recognize God’s love for people of color. However, there are many
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Can We Quit Pointing Fingers?

I recently tuned my satellite radio to see what was going in Washington (D)ysfunctional (C)hildren). Within a minute I regretted my decision. Both sides were attacking and demeaning the other’s motives, integrity, and decency. My mood turned sour. Then I flipped to another channel and the first song I heard was a duet from Mandisa and TobyMac. These lyrics immediately grabbed my heart. Are you left?Are you right?Pointing fingers, taking sidesWhen are we gonna realize? We all bleed the sameWe’re more beautiful when we come togetherWe all bleed the sameSo tell me why, tell me whyWe’re divided. Why indeed? One thing I am sure of is that hateful rhetoric never, ever, ever changes a heart. Followers of Christ have a message of hope and light that is desperately needed. But we get caught up in the politics of our world and too often snuff out that light. I have been guilty more than I care to think about. I fear our culture will
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Lean On Me

Life happens, John Lennon famously said, when you are making other plans. Boy has life been happening to us in recent weeks! Waterbrook Bible Fellowship chose the Monday musing topic today. Sunday’s streaming service ended with the song “Lean On Me”. The lyrics might not be found in a dusty old hymnal but the words sung by Bill Withers are spot on for this season. Sometimes in our livesWe all have painWe all have sorrow Lean on me, when you’re not strongAnd I’ll be your friendI’ll help you carry on I write a lot about grace in community. Some say too much. To be honest, I have had moments when I wondered if living in community with messy people is worth it. I have come to understand why legalism is so much easier than grace. Legalism allows me to assess the situation and then apply a verse, assign a task and move away in self-righteous expectation. If that person rejects
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How to Choose Hope and Light over Doom and Darkness

I remember reading Chicken Little when I was a child. The story tells that a young chick walking along was unexpectedly struck on the head by an acorn. With no further investigation Chicken Little came to the kind of well reasoned conclusion that floods our social media today. The sky is falling! Today Chicken Little would be an excellent politician or cable news anchor. Every time I violate my own personal mental health policy and turn on the news I am plunged into despair. The sky is falling! Look! There is an expert displaying a colorful chart to prove it! Hear me out. I know is important to communicate information for our actions and safety. But the tone and sheer volume of fear mongering is depressing. When I fall totally into the abyss and survey social media I see overwhelming fear, anger, gloom, and apocalyptic doom. Again, I understand the need to be informed. But I am beginning to think
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Lessons from an Ancient Lockdown

Most of us have been “sheltered in place” for a month or longer. I think that 99.9 percent of us are ready to resume normal activities. Maybe that will happen soon but I do not want to miss any lessons that I can take forward after this uninvited isolation ends. I am going stir crazy after 30 days of limited socialization. I fight off frustration over a litany of truly minor inconveniences. And then I pick up my Bible and I read these extremely annoying words from Paul written from prison! I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am. (Philippians 4:12-14, The Message) I could wrap
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Easter Song

I think of Keith Green every Easter week because he recorded one of my favorite songs about the power of the resurrection. What I loved most about Keith Green was his passion for Christ. Like many who came to faith during the Jesus movement Green was sold out to the Gospel. Every Easter week I listen to his recording of the Easter Song. Hear the bells ringingThey’re singing that you can be born againHear the bells ringingThey’re singing Christ is risen from the dead The angel up on the tombstoneSaid He has risen, just as He saidQuickly now, go tell his disciplesThat Jesus Christ is no longer dead Joy to the world, He has risen, hallelujahHe’s risen, hallelujahHe’s risen, hallelujah He is risen indeed. Keith Green experienced the resurrection power of Christ when he died in 1982. I sometimes wonder how his music might have changed as he matured in his faith. His journey just before his death offers a clue.
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The Worst Day of Peter’s Life

There is much written about Good Friday. The sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the Cross is incomprehensible to my puny human intellect. There is much written about Easter Sunday. Christians around the world rejoice and proclaim that “He is risen!”. But there is not nearly as much written about one of the saddest and most confusing days in history. The Saturday between the Friday horror of Jesus on the Cross and the Sunday mystery of the resurrection. Some churches do observe Holy Saturday but it was never a tradition in my faith upbringing. I have been thinking about what that day must have been like for those who dropped everything to follow Jesus. How crushing those events had to be. I imagine the fear they felt that they would also be killed. And for what? On Saturday they feared they had given their careers and their very souls for a false hope. I think in particular of Peter. I identify
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