Yearly Archives: 2006

When God Gets Around to Answering

There’s a young man, an expectant father, I’ve been praying for every day this summer. I hardly know him, but I’ve wanted the chance to get closer and, hopefully, gain the right to invest in his life. Since we only have one service this summer, and it’s an early one, most of that age group haven’t been coming to church (hey, most aren’t even Christians, so don’t criticize them for lacking commitment or making excuses). So I haven’t even seen this guy since early June. But I’ve continued praying for him, because God most definitely put him on my heart.

But today, at a get-together at a home after church, he was there. And when I took my food outside, he was sitting on a chair by himself. I joined him, and had the kind of conversation I’ve been wanting to have all summer. Chalk up another answer to prayer. It’s so sweet when it happens.

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Uncle Mark, Aunt Susie, and Wendy

Last night was great fun, one of those therapeutic times when you laugh and laugh and laugh.

My Uncle Mark and Aunt Susie were out from Boulder, Colorado, where they’ve lived since 1969. He retired this spring after a whole career, 40-some years, with IBM. Mark is my mom’s younger brother. As I write, Mark and Mom are attending their high school’s reunion. This was not a big school–Uncle Mark’s class had 17 students–and the school doesn’t exist anymore, so basically the reunions include anyone who ever attended that school regardless of year.

Last night, we all met for supper at Balyeats, a wonderful home-cooking restaurant in downtown Van Wert, Ohio. I’d heard how great it was, but hadn’t eaten there. A serious omission in my life. The swiss steak was incredible. Mark and Susie also brought their daughter (my youngest cousin) Wendy, who is eight years younger than me. Plus Wendy’s two young children (husband Curt, a veterinarian, remained back in rural Wyoming keeping the wildlife healthy).

During the meal, and later at the Holiday Inn Express where they were staying, we gabbed and reminisced and laughed wonderfully. My parents have always been close to Mark and Susie, and they carry on when they’re together. Pam and I got a glimpse of that some years ago when we joined all of them at Mark and Susie’s house in Boulder for several days. We had a great time.

Wendy, my cousin, is a real hoot. Very expressive, with a quick wit. Both of her parents are quick-witted, but Wendy tops them. She’s just a delightful girl. I really didn’t know her as a kid growing up; we older cousins preferred to avoid Wendy and my brother Rick, the two youngest. Our loss. Wendy is just doggone fun.

I’m not saying anything specific here. No stories for you to envision. I do have stories. Things that made us laugh. But you had to be there. And you weren’t, so what do you care? I’m just thrilled to have relatives like this. And I’m dismayed that, because of the distance, I see them so seldom.

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The Weather Channel

If the sky looks the least bit dark to the west, or to the north or south, there’s only one thing to do: check Channel 74. The Weather Channel. Sure enough, there’s a big patch of yellow, with some mean red inside. The shape changes slightly with each sweep of the radar.

I’m trying to remember life before Channel 74. We had little more to go on than a little “T-Storm Watch” notice in the upper left-hand corner of the TV. My, how vulnerable we were. That was a scary, scary world.

I remember, long ago, going for an extended bike ride when I spotted a huge thunderstorm coming from the west, with lots of lightning, between me and home. I was on the northeast side of Huntington, out on country roads. I pedaled furiously. The torrent struck just as I reached the outskirts of town. I could hardly see through my glasses. But I raced on back to my apartment, totally drenched.

If The Weather Channel had existed, I probably would never have left the apartment. I would have seen that patch of red surrounded by yellow surrounded by green and wisely avoided that little misadventure. Like a wussy. But I would also be searching for something to write about.

Channel 74 is surprisingly accurate. We can look at the screen and declare, “Yesiree, looks like it’ll miss us by a couple of miles. Probably nail the Village of Coventry.” The other night, we were supposed to get rain to finally cool down the place. I checked Channel 74 before going to bed. We were getting missed, but a long horizontal string of storms stretched across southern Michigan. I did not think to offer a prayer for the poor slobs living in its path. Of course, we got hit the next day. We watched it. On Channel 74.

Anyway, thank God and Mighty Doppler for Channel 74. Like so many things in our 21st Century lives, so replete with gadgets and services and ready information, it’s one of those things we think we can’t live without.

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Prayer, Broken Windows, Josh, and the Exodus

Our little prayer group met again last night, and Josh joined us. Josh is a high school dropout who most of us remember from the Friday night, probably four years ago, when a huge, honkin’ sheathed knife fell out of his trenchcoat and clattered onto the linoleum floor.

Josh moved away, but now is back, and spends his days wandering Third Street as he waits to begin taking classes to get his high school diploma. He came to church this Sunday, and I invited him to come to our prayer meeting. I doubt that he’s a Christian. Likewise for a few other teenagerish young adults who have been coming regularly. But they’re trying to connect with God, and they’re definitely connecting with us five adults who attend.

My heart leaped tonight when I saw Josh sitting at the table in the back of the (sweltering) sanctuary where we meet. I walked over to him, squeezed his shoulder, and said, “Josh, you made my day!” And he did.

Another window got busted out this week, a window which had gotten busted earlier during one of our concerts. But the culprits were caught this time–from what I hear, just two young kids. The windows have all been fixed.

Since our little prayer group–never more than 11 people–has been meeting, three families have announced that they are leaving the church. Three key, active, talented families. This hurts. I can’t imagine that our prayers are driving people away. But we definitely need to pray for God to raise up more workers. Because if we’re to continue making an impact on our community, we need them.

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Pluto and Lost Causes

Pluto is a planet only by popular opinion. Many astronomers would say it’s more a round chunk of ice, and that it’s smaller than several similar objects discovered well beyond Pluto. A fellow named Mike Brown has discovered 15 such “planets,” some of them twice as far from the sun as Pluto is. He’s not in favor of giving them planet status. And yet, if tiny Pluto is considered to be a planet, why shouldn’t Xena, a large round object which is even larger than Pluto?

In the past, Brown argued for eliminating Pluto as a planet. But public support for Pluto–not based on science, but on mere sentiment; it would be like taking statehood away from Alaska–was too strong. Pluto, since its discovery in 1930, has been part of our culture. And Brown, being pragmatic, says, “There are places where science reigns, and others where culture reigns. Science doesn’t have to win this one. I’m willing to give up the hard-nosed science view of what a planet is in lieu of a cultural view.”

I like that approach, and I see it applying to Christian political action.

We live in a secular, religiously pluralistic culture that values freedom of religion. That’s bedrock America. But Christians constantly fight for causes which go against those values, advocating things which support our religion (Christianity) at the expense of other views. I’m of the opinion that we should just say, “On this one we can let the culture win.”

For instance, I’ve never supported the hubbub over school prayer. Maybe it was okay once upon a time, but the culture has moved on. Prayer doesn’t belong in schools. That just demeans prayer. Let this one go. Kids can still pray if they want. I did.

Nativity scenes on public property? That goes against religious pluralism, which I think is a much greater value in a secular society like ours. Likewise for posting the Ten Commandments in courthouses. What does it gain us? It does offend other religious groups. Maybe they’re being overly sensitive, but that’s okay. Better to live in peace and be able to submit to the other’s desires (a Christian concept about which the Religious Right is clueless), than to stubbornly insist on a “Christianity First” approach.

Including “In God We Trust” on our money, and “one nation under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance? Those aren’t battles I care to fight. Besides, they are lies. We’re not a nation under God, at least not anymore. Why would I say it as part of the Pledge, which is actually a display of loyalty toward my country? I can pledge my loyalty to the USA without pretending that we operate under God’s authority.

But other battles are still worth fighting. I don’t want to see gay marriage legalized. I would be surprised if it’s not legal throughout the country in 20 years. The culture will have moved on, and we’ll need to deal with it (just as we dealt with the end of prohibition). But the inevitability doesn’t mean we should cave in now.

Some issues, too, are just a matter of fairness. Like the teaching of creationism alongside evolution. We have a right to fairness. So do Buddhists and Muslims and atheists and all the rest (which  means if we can display our religious symbols on public property and post them in courthouses, so can they).

It’s okay to fight on behalf of the public good, too, as in opposing gambling, the legalization of drugs, pornography, abortion, racism, and global warming. Those go beyond religion, and it’s not necessarily necesssary that we craft them as religious causes and thereby exclude people who also oppose those things, but for more secular reasons.

We white evangelical Christians could, if we wanted, even fight on behalf of the poor. But alas, I’ve strayed to the back burner.

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In Hell’s Suburbs

It’s hot. Perhaps you’ve noticed.

When we lived in Lake Havasu City, Ariz., I didn’t mind the heat. And we’re talking 115-125 degrees. The national nightly news often cited nearby Blythe, Calif., as the hottest place the nation. We were usually hotter in Lake Havasu City, but in those days we lacked an official weather station. So we didn’t count.

I was a teenager back then, which may account for my imperviousness to the heat. Plus, it just meant we took a jaunt to the lake or found a swimming pool. I spent a lot of my teenagerdom in the water, and I miss it. We had youth group outings on the lake all the time. The piano in my house was once in the back of a pickup truck on the beach in Lake Havasu City.

In California, I played tennis on two conference championship teams. My junior year, in the first round of the San Juaquin Valley championships, I played three matches one afternoon in 115 degree heat. Ate an orange between matches, drank plenty of water, and won two out of three (doubles matches) so we could advance to the next round.

Yessiree, I’m quite the macho man.

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Greg Boyd Vs. Conservative Politics

Greg Boyd can’t stay out of trouble. First, he nearly got himself booted from his denomination, the Baptist General Conference, for advocating Open Theism. That’s the issue which caused a ruckus at my denomination’s school, Huntington University, when one of its professors became a leading advocate of Open Theism, which questions whether God fully knows the future.

Now Boyd is upsetting evangelicals by criticizing how we entangle Christianity with conservative politics. On this issue, I’m right with him. There is a cost for Boyd: the church he founded in Minneapolis in 1992 lost about 1000 of its 5000 members after he preached a series of sermons on “The Cross and the Sword” and later published a book called The Myth of a Christian Nation: How the Quest for Political Power is Destroying the Church.

The New York Times published a July 30 article about Boyd and this controversy. It’s quite interesting. I’ve been sensing plenty of sentiment for Boyd’s views in the evangelical world. I’m certainly in his camp. It pleases me to know that many evangelicals are saying, “Enough! Christianity and Republican politics are not the same thing!” Even though it could cost the Republican party big-time in the 2006 and 2008 elections.

I think one of George Bush’s many negative legacies will be the way the previously taken-for-granted evangelical base of the Republican party began crumbling–or even openly revolting–under his administration’s cynical manipulation. It’s nice to see so many Christian leaders, like Greg Boyd, refusing to be partisan yes-men for the Republican Party. But if you take a stand like that, don’t expect to get away unscathed.

One reason I love going to Branson is the patriotism which permeates nearly all of the shows. I absolutely love that. I’m proud to be an American. But it’s a matter of context. Branson is a secular venue and the message is more “love of country” than “rubber-stamping of Republican causes.” There’s a difference.

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The Hummer Not-So-Status-Anymore Symbol

Every time I pass an H2 Hummer on the road, I chuckle inside. What were they thinking! Somebody needs to buy them a copy of Gas Mileage for Dummies.

But then, people driving Mini-Coopers probably say the same thing when I drive past them in my Dodge Dakota pickup. But that’s okay. Who’s laughing when they need to haul a load of mulch?

A while back, I read an article about why people buy SUVs. One salesman told of a woman in southern California who said she really needed four-wheel-drive on her SUV, because when she goes to parties at people’s houses, she often has to park on the grass. What a riot.

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Seekers in a Battle

Last night four of us played in the Battle of the Bands at the Seekers Coffeehouse, a Christian-run business which also hosts a new church. They’ve got a fairly large concert room with wonderful sound equipment, and they do a lot of music things to attract business. For instance, Monday night is Open Mic night. Tim and Terry, Anchor’s guitarists, play regularly on Monday night. A worship team from the area hosts each Thursday night; Anchor has done that twice.

This summer, they’ve been running the extended Battle of the Bands for about eight weeks, with three bands playing every Saturday night. Last night was the final night. On Tuesday, three bands will be notified that they are the finalists, and they’ll be invited to return and do their stuff next Saturday, August 5, for the finale.

Will it be us? That would be awesome. We really rocked last night, definitely outdoing the other two acts (a jazz quartet of pony-tailed guys who were fine musicians as long as they stuck to guitars), and a lone guy from Indy who set up a big Casio keyboard and bore a nice-looking acoustic guitar, and who I had high hopes for until he opened his mouth and started singing. We had to leave, or else, like those robot models in “Austin Powers,” our heads would explode.

I had a great time. We had to do up to 45 minutes of original music–no cover songs. Fortunately, Tim and Terry have done more than enough of that, having written many songs over the years which we’ve done at Anchor. And it’s good, fun stuff. On some, like Terry’s “Confidence Man,” I was able to really let loose with some honky-tonk piano. On other songs, I hung in the background with pads, strings, and flute.

Yes, I hope we’re called back. I would love to do that set again. This was the fourth time I’ve played at Seekers, and I think it was my favorite. Just Tim, Terry, me, and Terry’s son Joe on the drums. And a few faithful Anchor fans who came to cheer us on despite the $3 cover charge.

After we played, a guy walked up to me and introduced himself as Steve Dennie. Actually as Steve Denny. When the Lowes on Illinois Road opened about 13 years ago, I used to hear my name paged over the intercom frequently, and it always freaked me out in a Big Brother sort of way. Turns out it was him. He managed that store when it opened. He and his wife moved away for about ten years, but recently moved back. I gave him my business card as proof that he had met someone else with the same name.

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The Braeded Chord – It’s About the Lyrics

Braeded Chord
Doris Au MacDonald (left) and Sharon Dennis performing in Chambersburg, Pa.

I feel some affinity with Doris Au MacDonald, considering our mutual expertise in writing, graphic design, and music, and our shared background as UBs in the far west. Doris has spent her entire adult career in missionary service with Wycliffe, and I think the world of Doris and her husband, Alan. These are quality people, quality Christians.

But during my junior high Bible Quizzing days, Doris was The Enemy. She and her older sister, Margo, the Au sisters, starred for the team from the United Brethren church in Glendale, Calif., in the LA area. This church had a glorious quizzing history, having won a couple of Pacific Conference championships, from what I had heard.

I was among six bratty 7th and 8th graders from Lake Havasu City, Ariz., a new church with a first-year team. And we won the conference championship. Lucky upstart pipsqueaks.

Actually, it was the San Diego team that we despised, a gaggle of emotional, moody, highly-competitive girls who never lost without shedding buckets of tears and accusing the universe of unfairness. There was one guy on the team, always sitting in the number 4 chair, and we liked him. But his teammates–not so much.

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