"He Was Beautiful and Brave"

Three year olds are known for their cute, quirky pronouncements. But my three year old recently "took the cake" with a statement that came completely out of the blue, and totally unsolicited. While sitting on the kitchen floor and reassembling our kitchen cupboard for the twelfth time, Haley said; "Daddy, you are beautiful and brave." All week long I have been pumping myself up with the very same phrase - when meetings go long, when financial statements get lengthy, I say to myself - "Daddy, you are beautiful and brave." In fact, I like the phrase so much that I am requesting that it be put on my gravestone someday; "Pastor, father, husband, friend...he was beautiful and brave."

Not that I am thinking about gravestones much, or morbidity in general. I love life!!! But as I have been thinking about it, I have been pondering how it is actually not a bad idea for all of us to take a few moments every now and then, and think about what words we would like to have said about us, when we die, to think about what sentiments we would like to leave the world with, when we go, to think about what we would like it to say...on our gravestones.

I am told that Willow Creek recently did a staff retreat in which they asked all of the staff members to take huge pieces of construction paper, and to design their own gravestones. They asked each staff member to write the words that they would like to be remembered by on large pieces of paper that were later put up on the wall, and reflected deeply upon. (BTW: this exercise definitely lends itself to lots of dark comedy material...as in, and then the whole staff were fired, and then they served up the cool aide...and it is not recommended as a staff retreat exercise unless you have the leadership ability of a Bill Hybels to pull it off, and even then I'm not sure...). Later comments about the retreat were that it was the most meaningful time they ever spent together as a team. And from that moment on, they all Rested in Peace (just kidding).

Church yards and cemeteries around the world are filled with the markers of great and lowly people alike, and tombstones that are equally great and lowly. Here are some famous epitaphs that I like. William Butler Yeats, the great Irish poet, had as his epitaph; "Cast a cold eye, on life, on death, horsemen pass by." BP Roberts' epitaph was more humorous, simply, "I told you I was sick." Merv Griffin's epitaph reads like a punch line to a joke; "Merv Griffin, I will not return after this message." Billy Wilder's is more narrative; "Here Lies a Writer, But Then Again, Nobody's Perfect." The troops who lost their lives in Burma left an epitaph that reminds us to be thankful; "When You Go Home, Tell Them Of Us And Say, For Your Tomorrow, We Gave Our Today".

What is it that you most want to be remembered for in the short life that God has given you to live? What one thing, or things, or causes, do you want it said of you, "that's what she/he stood for?" What would you like your life to have meant, when all is said and done. Don't bathe yourself in these questions, but at least ask them of yourself for one mili-second today.

For me, I am still working on the answer to that question. But whatever I come up with, it will be hard to beat - "He Was Beautiful and Brave", from the lips of a three year old.

All For Now,

GB

Follow the Light

On Saturday night, the eve of 9/11, Highlands Church splurged and rented two 100,000 watt beacon lights to cast two sovereign beams into the night sky to commemorate and to give homage to the events of 9/11. The original purpose that the church rented these lights, and made this investment was simply to offer a quiet but meaningful commemoration of the lives lost on 9/11, and to help people connect the church to a relevant expression of people's pain, and a potential place for hope. Little did we know what an incredible experience it would be in connecting people in the community to the light of Christ...in helping people to follow the light.

Promptly at 8:00PM, like the starting of an antique engine of an old model T Ford, the two huge beacon lights were started up, and turned on. Almost at once they sent light beams into a seeming cosmic soup of mist and night sky. From my own house, almost two miles away from the church, I could see the lights cutting through the blackness of the night, like some great peace offering, or a covenant made by some patriarchal tribe from my faith system's past. As the lights started up I could almost hear the Hebrew words, ""CARAT BAREEAT" (cut a covenant) being emitted from their source. Later that evening, people as far away as Creston (15 miles) and Bradley (20 miles) would tell me that they too could see the lights from their own front porches. My own daughter, just 3 years old, squealed with delight at seeing the lights that evening, completely unwitting of what they symbolized or the reason that they existed for the tragedies of 9/11.

But here was my favorite part of the experience. When I arrived at the church at 8:30 to prepare for the memorial service that we would hold there (for the handful of people who would come) there was an incredibly powerful and very organic commotion of energy. It seemed that people from everywhere, every country road and cowboy hamlet around the church, were driving towards the light. I personally witnessed a tow-truck company employee drive up in his rig, get out of the cab of his truck, pull out his cell phone and take a picture of the twin beacons. I saw a cable company utility man pull his van right up next to the church and roll down his window, and peer at the lights for at least fifteen minutes, before wiping the tears from his eyes and driving away. My favorite sight were the image of two high school kids, gang-like in their attire and demeanor, jumping out from two bushes near the church, glancing up at the lights, and then running away, like children who had just tagged an opponent on an elementary school yard and saying - "you're it."

Here's a text that I have been pondering: "After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, "Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his STAR in the east, and we have come to worship him." (Matt:2:2)

Maybe the gospel of Christ really is as simple as shooting up two twin beams on a Saturday night, in the middle of a field, and seeing who gathers. Maybe it is as basic as helping people to see something that is full of light, and God-filled, and redemptive, and transformative, that they have never seen before. Maybe our jobs as Christ followers really are about cutting through the darkness of the places in which we live, and offering hope. Maybe it is all about helping people to just...follow the light.

All For Now,

GB

Equals...

Philosophers throughout the ages have enshrouded themselves with the singular question of (=), what it all equals. Descartes imaged that the equals of life might have been the ability to think - "doubt" - "Cogitae Ergo Sum" "I think therefore I equal something." Kierkegaard imagined that the equals of life was some sort of existence of faith, suspended over and above our "Fear and Tembling." Hobbes contemplated the equals of life being, "nastiness, brutishness and shortness."

But all people who have ever lived have wondered about (=).

And most of us know what the equation in life is. For all of us the equation is a little different. But we know the equation. It's always some variant of A + B = C. Or C + D = E, or whatever (I should probably warn you that I was never really very good at math. That's why I became a pastor). For all of us the numerical integers mean different things. "A" for some people is being unemployed. "B" for others is growing up in a single parent home. "C" for others is having a drug addiction. And the integers don't have to be bad or challenging things. "A" could be that you go to church. "B" could be that you like to garden. But what we really want to know is not what the integers are (that's usually pretty obvious), but we want to know what it is that life is all leading to...what does it equal.

One of my all time favorite books is Victor Frankl's, "Man's Search For Meaning." If you haven't read it (and if you haven't, you should), Frankl's book recounts his tortuous and awful existence as a prisoner and internment survivor in the Auschevitz concentration camp, just outside of Katiovits, Poland. Frankl discusses how the experience of being a POW left him completely bereft of any desire to live, or even desire to exist in a world that could harbor and allow such injustices and pain as Auschevitz. Frankl meditated on the complete lostness of his entire existence for days, months, years, on end, as his friends and family members around him all died. Finally, Frankl came to the great epiphany that the most important thing in life was "Choice." Frankl knew that he had a choice to live or die or not. And that in some way, his ability to choose in life is what afforded him "meaning" (hence the title of the book).

To offer a different title for Frankl's book, we could call it, "Man's Search for What it All Equals." And all the people who have ever lived in the history of the world have sought the answer to what it all...equals.

Solomon (SHLOMO), from the Old Testament is the most famous and eloquent example of a sojourner of the elusive (=). Solomon makes the bold statement in the beginning of Ecclesiastes; "Meaningless! Meaningless! Utterly Meaningless! Everything is Meaningless." Put into our modern formulation Solomon is really saying, "Nothing Equals Anything, Everything is Equal-less."

All of this really leads up to Jesus. When you think about it, Jesus is the ultimate equals sign. Jesus would ultimately give himself the designation of an equals sign. Jesus said, "I am the WAY, the truth, and the life." Jesus said, "I am the WAY...the equals sign." I am the equals sign for eternity. You and I (A) plus faith in God (B) = equals (Jesus Christ), (C) eternal and fruitful life.

So, what do you think? Book or no book? If you are reading this blog post and you are a famous publisher, I just want you to know that I have a lot more ideas to share about what the concept of (=) actually equals...

All For Now,

GB

Purity and Fallenness

Let me begin with a big sentence: Purity, in and of itself, has never been all that exciting to me. I took a gemology class in college once, and I remember seeing pictures of completely flawless diamonds. Completely perfect diamonds were completely boring to me. I know of people who spend lots of money on perfectly pure water (Britta, Tynant, the most expensive...Fiji), but that has left me equally unexcited. I can't tell the difference between tap water and Brita (there is a difference with Fijian water:-). And I don't inherently value perfect days, perfect, vacations, perfect cars (whatever), but all of them leave me feeling purely and perfectly unfulfilled. What excites me most is the segway, the convergence, the connection between that which is perfect and that which is fallen...

I remember a story once that Jesus told, of a perfect meal that was prepared. Not only was this a perfect meal, but it was a perfect party. It was "pure" party - it was so perfect. I imagine the meal that Jesus spoke of had the perfect ingredients, and the most incredible table decorations, and the most consummate wines. I imagine that the meal that Jesus told about had perfect dinner guests and perfect music. However, there was one hitch to this perfect meal. None of the "perfect" people actually wanted to attend. Don't get me wrong, all people were invited, but none of the "perfect people" wanted to come. This apparent incongruity between the perfection of the meal that Jesus wanted to serve and the imperfection of the "rudeness" of the guests that Jesus wanted to invite was deeply unsettling to God.

But then, God did an incredible thing. God invited all of the imperfect people to come to the dinner. God invited all of the non-Brita people, all of the un-Hope diamonds to come. He said, "Go out into the streets and invite everyone who is unfit to come to this meal." The exact Biblical story goes something like this;

² “The kingdom of heaven is like a king who prepared a wedding party for his son. ³ He sent his servants to call those invited to the wedding party. But they didn’t want to come. ⁴ Again he sent other servants and said to them, ‘Tell those who have been invited, “Look, the meal is all prepared. I’ve butchered the oxen and the fattened cattle. Now everything’s ready. Come to the wedding party!” ’ ⁵ But they paid no attention and went away—some to their fields, others to their businesses. ⁶ The rest of them grabbed his servants, abused them, and killed them.

⁷ “The king was angry. He sent his soldiers to destroy those murderers and set their city on fire. ⁸ Then he said to his servants, ‘The wedding party is prepared, but those who were invited weren’t worthy. ⁹ Therefore, go to the roads on the edge of town and invite everyone you find to the wedding party.’

So, the meal was perfect, but the guests ended up not being so perfect. But that is what is so beautiful about the story. It was the consequence of purity and fallenness, height and lowness, loftiness and degradation, that was so beautiful.

So, that's what I'm going for in my life and my ministry. I'm going for the consequence of purity and fallenness, astronomical heights connecting with indefatigable lows. What is most beautiful about Jesus Christ, our God, is that HE, a perfect being came into our broken and utterly fallen world. It was the convergence of purity and fallenness...

All For Now,

GB

A Movie For One

Last Wednesday night I went to a movie by myself. Actually, I should probably start this blog post by describing the average week of an ordinary pastor. The week picks up on Thursday with sermon writing, and gets busier on Friday with weddings, funerals and weekend activities, and then crests on Saturday with worship prep, and then the week finds it's apex on Sunday. Then, like the Dow Jones Industrial Average on an August afternoon in the year 2011, the week literally plummets on Monday, until it picks up again on Thursday. So, anyway, I went to a movie Wednesday night, all by myself. Haley and Star were in bed. I wanted to see a movie. Downtown Paso Robles was as sleepy as a door mouse on Ambien on Wednesday night. I found myself watching ("The Help" - a great movie, but let's save that for another blog post) the movie all by myself. Really, it was just me, my large bowl of popcorn, a super-sized Sprite, and a massive screen. And I loved it!

As the movie credits in the beginning began to flash on the screen, I felt like the director was offering me a private showing. When there were funny parts in the movie (of which there were many in "The Help"), I hooted out loud, uproariously...to myself...and to anyone who could hear. When there was a part of the movie I particularly liked, I yelled out, "Wow, that's funny. Ha, Ha, Ha!!!" It was just me, after all. It didn't matter who heard me. I wouldn't be bugging anyone. As the movie carried on, I stretched my legs way out in front of me, into the two chairs ahead of me, relishing the lack of complaints that I heard from anyone about my decorum or poor movie manners. It was wonderful!

So, here's what I've been thinking. What if we thought about our faith as....A Movie for One. What if we viewed the God of the Universe, Jesus Christ, who came to the earth, as a visit that was just intended for One...You, Me, whoever. What if we thought, just for a moment, about the death on the cross, our salvation, as being a gift for just one - You, Me. Now, I know that this thought is entirely non-congregational, selfish, self-centered and a little egotistical. Yes, I know the arguments about how our faith today has become too "me-oriented." However, at some level our faith is very personal, it is extremely individual, it is highly focussed on one, by one, by one. Jesus said; "What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it? And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neighbours, saying unto them, Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost. I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance"—Luke 15:4-7.

What this thought has helped me to consider is how unselfconscious I felt in the movie theater that evening, yelling out loud by myself. And how unselfconscious I would like to feel about my faith if I thought of it as a Movie for One. I have been thinking about how free I would feel praying to God, hooting at God, laughing with God about my life, about God's life, if it were just a Movie for One.

All For Now,

GB

Folding Your Way To Heaven

The last two blog posts I've written have been a tad bit on the serious side. So, I wanted to offer a thought or two on about Spiritual matters that are not quite so heady...

I have been folding a lot of laundry lately. Yes, I, Graham Baird, a hot blooded Scottish-American male have been folding a lot of laundry. And I have been doing it with a smile on m face. Sometimes, I have even been known to strike up a lusty little whistle while I fold away at my house (children's underwear, tee shirts, tube sox, the whole nine yards). I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that I have gotten into a big argument with Star and this is my way of getting back into her good graces.

But, No, I am not in the doghouse. No, I am not trying to suck up to my wife. No, I'm not trying to win the award for husband or father of the year. No, I am not particularly adept at making the clothes that I fold fit into perfectly symmetrical shapes. What I have been doing lately is seeing the daily task of folding laundry as a Spiritual act of discipleship.

Let me explain....

Spirituality, as it has commonly been understood throughout the centuries by Christians has often been about the practice of taking ordinary and mundane tasks associated with life, and finding a deeper meaning in them. John the Baptist searched for locusts and wild honey in the desert as a Spiritual task. Moses heard God's voice while shepherding a flock on the far side of the desert. Paul developed a sense of Spiritual rhythm while erecting tents for wealthy business class people.

The Bible is rife with other examples of basic daily tasks which people underwent in the first century which had a kind of rhythm and routine to them - Spirituality. It is not a coincidence that Jesus chose mostly fishermen to be the very first and innermost disciples in his ministry. Fishing in the first century was always partly about fishing but mostly it was about mending nets. The nets that the disciples used were called AMPHIBLESTRONS and they required hours and hours of tying tiny knots and mending holes. This, I believe, was a dynamic of spiritual growth for the disciples. It required patience and attention and rhythm and cadence and assiduousness for them to fix the nets. Ministry requires the same kind of attention.

One of the historical figures I have always looked up to, though have never emulated from a Spiritual or theological standpoint has been Mahatma Ghandi. At the very core of Ghandi's social revolution was the concept that Indians should spin their own broad cloth rather than purchase cloth from Great Britain. Spinning their own broad cloth required Indians to spend many hours at their own weaving and spinning looms, putting fine threads together. The image of Ghandi on his knees spinning raw cotton into thread has become an emblem of his spiritual and national revolution. So important was the spinning loom for Indians that they placed it on the very center of the Indian flag.

I have always felt that one of the reasons that the women of the first century Judea were so much at the center of social life was because they spent so much time collecting water. Water retrieval around the year 1 AD was, and it still is, an act of belabored love and attention. The women, and it was always women, would walk many miles to a well. They would wait in line to fill their buckets or jars or flasks, then they would walk all the way back to their villages in the hot afternoon sun. This regular, rhythmic, cadenced, activity must have helped many of the women who surrounded Jesus have a deep sense of Spirituality. In one story that we know of, Jesus meets a by a well, helps her to find the kingdom of God. "The Samaritan woman said to him, 'You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?' (John 4:9).

So, I am going to keep folding. I will fold and not protest about it. I also won't brag about the amount I have been folding. Please don't offer me any praise for this web-blog. That might detract from the Spiritual quest that I am on. To be honest, I find the act of folding laundry somewhat soothing. Probably the reason I don't mind it is because I am not forced to do it, and have found a spiritual reason for it. But as an up-shod, folding the laundry in the house isn't hurting my marriage too much either...And I am getting a lot of clothes folded at the same time.

Wash on, Wash off...Fold in, Fold out...

All For Now,

GB

Part of the reason for my increased domestic

"Just Come Along, It Will Be Good For You"

I want to tread for a moment, ever so carefully, into political waters, but only in order to make a larger point about evangelism. Highlands, as you may know, is assiduously a-political, and so are most of it's pastors. We never talk about party or political affiliation, we never promote one party or another, we do speak strongly about moral issues, but not from a political standpoint. We are a-political not because we don't believe strongly in politics. Nor do we feel that politics aren't very important. But most of all we feel that calling ourselves followers Christ is our first and most important calling.

That said, I just heard a powerful illustration about the import of reaching out to people when they are in a time of need, and inviting them to "just come along," simply because it will be "good for them" to be in attendance.

Throughout the entire 1960's, former Secretary of State James Baker III was an active member of the Democratic party in Texas. James Baker had worked with Lloyd Bentzen and others in the Democratic political establishment of Texas in order to further the causes that he felt were near and dear to his heart. Towards the end of the 1960's James Baker's first wife, Mary Stuart McHenry was diagnosed with a very scary, and what would turn out to be terminal case of breast cancer. James Baker was, of course, grief stricken and comatose with fear and dread over the potential loss of his life's soul mate and wife. Mary would eventually succumb to the ravages of breast cancer in 1970. James Baker became a broken man. Nothing could console him. Nothing would pull James Baker out of his sadness and depression.

One day, a man named George Herbert Walker Bush (he was then known as he is now by his two middle initials H.W.) connected with James Baker at the Houston Country Club. From across the room H.W. could see that James Baker was enshrouded with a cloud of grief and that he carried a heavy weight upon his entire countenance. H.W. strode across the room and said, "James, you don't know me, but I'm George Bush, and I knew your wife, and I am so sorry for your loss." "Thank you," said James Baker. "I know that she was an amazing woman and there will never be a replacement." "Thank you" said James Baker again. "There is one thing I wanted to ask you, though" said George Bush, "and that is if you would be willing to come this afternoon with me to a rally I am hosting for my run for US Senate." "Oh, no, thanks" said James, "I don't think so, but also, remember I am a Democrat not a Republican." "I know," said Bush, (and then he said the words) "But...Just come along, It will be good for you." For some unknown reason James decided to attend that rally that afternoon - that it couldn't hurt to go to a rally, that maybe it would actually be good for him. And so he went...and the rest is history. James Baker eventually joined the Republican Party and became one of the most influential Secretaries of State of the past century.

Obviously this illustration, told in the midst of one of the most divisive political seasons in the United States' history, cannot be seen in an entirely a-political, non-political light. Obviously politics today is as loaded as a cruise missile, and unfortunately, nearly as dangerous. However this story, for me, is such an important example of the power of just inviting people along to something. People don't have to understand why they are attending an event, or a small group, or a church service, or a worship night, or a weekly Bible study, or whatever. The only important thing is that we "invite people along" because it will be "good for them." And what is also exceptionally important as people are "invited along" is the transformative impact of being a part of a larger group of followers, of believers, of people who offer hope and joy and perspective.

So, invite someone to "just come along." Tell them, "It will be good for them." Who knows, you might just change history in the process...

All for Now,

GB