For years, I dreamed of being a college professor. I should have dreamed about being a good one. As I sashay my way through the halls of Spartanburg Methodist College, the process of becoming a competent educator continues to flood my mind and my schedule. Therefore, I am devoting a lot of time to practicing my profession as I strive to be an educator that makes a difference in someone’s life.

That said, I cannot abandon the practice of writing that I dearly love. Not to mention that it sometimes saves me from my worst moments while dragging me towards the process of being better.

A few years ago when I was out of a job (again), many of you kindly pledged dollars to help us along until I found a landing spot at SMC. More than the money, I am grateful for the signs of kindness and support that kept me going until discovering where I need to be.

I cannot thank you enough for your kindness when I was at my lowest point. I am going about my writing in this new academic year in a slightly different way.

Needless to say, I am not getting rich as an untenured professor at a small college despite the fact that I love what I am doing. If you would LIKE to make a small donation, I am glad to share my Venmo with you. Just contact me at tlegrand71@gmail.com. If I determine that it is safe, I may share it on a post in a couple of weeks.

If you do not feel that you can do so, all is well. My posts are available to everyone. I will continue to rely on the kindness of strangers (or friends) to support this work in any way that you are willing/able. Just contact me if you would like to make a donation, even if it merely offers a chance to buy an extra cup of coffee.

After all, I do offer extra credit to students who bring an Americano with two extra shots! And if YOU want to get coffee, let me know.

Thank you so much to all of you that read, like, donate, comment, encourage, etc. Some of you went far above and beyond to support me when I was at my lowest. Thank you for pulling me to a place and time where I once again know who I am and where I am going.

I went to Philly to watch the NCAA Tournament, as my Furman Paladins (aka, the Lord’s Team) faced the ogres from UConn, along with their dark and sinister coach (aka, Steven Miller’s evil twin–prove me wrong).

Game was close until the last couple of minutes. This meant that 19,000 people hit the exits around midnight, looking for a taxi, Uber, Lyft, etc. Realizing that it would be hours until I found one, I saw a sign near the arena that said “Public Transportation.” I headed straight for it and hopped the last train out.

Of course, I had no clear idea of where I was going. But a little help from Maps and some people on the train told me where to hop off to get back to my VRBO. An Uber would have cost $100, while the train cost me nothing.

This is just one of many reasons why I love and support public transit, particularly in my home city of Greenville, SC.

On Tuesday, July 21 at 6 p.m., Greenville County Council will vote on allocations from the Penny Sales Tax referendum. Greenlink, our public transit system, is set to receive 3% of that money (if the referendum passes).

But transit advocates are asking for a bump to 5% for Greenlink. Funding public transportation at that level begins to put us on par with other cities of similar size. Hopefully, it will put us on a track to fully fund one of the most important drivers of mobility, traffic relief, and greater economic impact.

My grandmother lived in Columbia, SC for 98 years, working in a sewing factory until she was 82 and living on her own until she was 95. She never had a license. It was the Cola public transit system that allowed her to do that. She rode the bus most days and taught me to ride it as well.

For context: Columbia funds public transit at about $45 per capita, while Greenville funds it at roughly $8 per capita. Simply put, if my Grandmama lived in Greenville, should could not have made it on her own.

Why would we not offer the same opportunity to people who are unable to drive? Cannot afford a car? Or simply prefer not to deal with our growing traffic problems?

Try going from East North Street to Greenville County offices at 10 a.m.; then try it at 4:30 p.m. You’re looking at 30-45 minutes for a 5-mile drive. Funded, effective transit could cut that to 15 minutes by bus. Why would we not fund something that saves roads, provides better mobility, and cuts down our drive times?

Going all the way back to Mayor Max Heller, Greenville has battled over providing and paying for public transit. We love our cars and our freedom and our ability to go where WE want to go and WHEN we want to go. Understandable as that is, now is the time to move towards

Transit studies reveal that Greenville could get a $2,000,000,000 (as in two billion dollars) in economic impact for our county. As much as we all dislike an extra penny per purchase, such a return on investment seems like a no-brainer.

But we only get that return if we fund transit as well as road repair.

In June, I took a week-long trip to Chicago. I landed at O’Hare, and started to search for an Uber. It was $78 to get one from the airport to my hotel. So I went to the public transit station to see if they had more reasonable options.

I bought a week-long transit ticket for $15, and took the train from the airport to one block from my hotel. I used that one ticket all week to get anywhere I needed to go in Chicago. I had to walk a little here and there, but usually less than half a mile (much easier in the Chicago summer, for sure).

$15 for a week. Can you get anywhere in Greenville, car or otherwise, for that price?

We’re not Chicago. We’re not likely to get bus routes to the airport anytime soon. But 5% will go a long way to pointing us in the right direction–and certainly get us closer to investing in something that lesser cities have done for a long time.

Better roads are great and badly needed. Yet, funding something that decreases traffic, provides for the “least of these” in our city, and increases the capacity of our entire community makes a lot of sense.

Let’s fund that.

Yep, you guessed it. Happened to me, on multiple occasions in multiple ways. However, we will focus on my senior year.

We had the option to “reserve” a study carrel in the library at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. Back when not everything was on the computer and we had to read actual printed materials, it was a terrific way to keep a quiet study space. I did this every semester, and regularly kept my expensive and extensive book purchases in said space.

At the beginning of fall semester 1997, I stacked my books–neat and organized, believe it or not–in the carrel. Two days later, I went up to do my reading and reached for my books. Unfortunately, the shelf was empty.

Yes, someone in our senior class stole roughly $700+ of books out of the seminary library. It had to be someone in my classes because they would need the same books.

We were dirt poor, living hand-to-mouth and trying to finish up graduate school. $700 was not sitting in a bank account and we already had enough credit card debt. I was left to scrounge up reading materials as I could until we figured something out.

That “something” turned out to be a man named Gary Hillmar. The Hillmars attended our small Presbyterian church where I served as youth minister. They were not rolling in money either. Still, on a Wednesday night after youth, Gary pulled out enough cash to cover my book replacements.

Gary told me he had the money to do it at that time. I took him at his word, although I doubted the factual nature of his statement. My doubts are supported by the fact that I do not think his wife or his children ever knew that story until I shared it with them later.

But that was Hillmar family. That was Gary. He could have a rough and gruff exterior on the outside. Yet, when he knew you and loved you, he found a way to show it. He always showed it to our family, and to his own.

This past spring, we lost two men from our seminary days in White Oak, PA who meant the world to us. Gary died in May; and Craig McDowell passed away in December 2025. These were “salt of the earth” guys. Again, tough and gruff on the outside with a heart of gold on the inside. For those blessed to know them, we got to appreciate both the outer facade and the genuine heart.

As you move around in ministry, it becomes nearly impossible to keep up with those who stayed behind. We see glimpses on Facebook or Instagram, and have great joy in playing a small part in the lives of so many who are making the world a better place. But the Hillmars and the McDowells always stayed in touch, always stayed close.

Craig McDowell was walking out of the sanctuary after I preached one of my first sermons at Sampson’s Mills Presbyterian in White Oak. It was hot in the church that day and no doubt I stayed up way too late trying to prepare. He heard me mention that I was tired.

“Tired of what? All you do is give a book report every Sunday and it’s on the same book!”

Yes, that was Craig. He was always ready to make people laugh and brought that wry Irish sense of humor to every party. Unless you messed with his daughters or granddaughters, then you had a problem. Especially if you allowed his daughters to use a chainsaw on a mission trip (I heard a LOT about that one).

He taught our son, Spencer, that fishing shows were the only thing to watch on Saturday morning. They practiced casting off the back deck, shot ground hogs with a .22, and at some point started a fire. The exact culprit of that has yet to be identified; but in their defense, they were left unsupervised.

Both of these families loved us and supported us as more than a staff person at their church. They supported us like family. They took care of our child (and eventually children). More than anything, they kept us laughing. In fact, they STILL keep us laughing. Every time we get together, the stories roll on and on until we’re struggling to breath.

When we were in eastern North Carolina at our first full-time church, we met the Hillmars in Fredericksburg, VA where Gary’s ancestors fought for the North. First, we laughed that all five Hillmars drove down in a Ford Taurus–along with their large and lovable Golden Retriever. Then we laughed when we discovered their ancestor missed the battle due to “piles.”

I can write an extensive list of mentors that I had in ministry, in teaching, in higher education, etc. These are all men and women with advanced degrees and years of experience in the worlds of work I inhabited over the last 35 years.

Most made positive, lasting impressions and guided me to great lessons about my work. But few made a greater impact on our life and family than Gary and Craig.

The best men and mentors are not always the experts in your field. Sometimes it is the one who shows up with stacks of work gloves and safety equipment to help the youth save costs on their mission trip. It is the one who comes in with $700 that you need to cover the cost of your stolen books. It is those who babysit your precocious child and refuse payment for it. Or those who teach him how to fish, and set things on fire.

Gary and Craig would likely never identify themselves as “mentors” for a young minister, particularly one who thought he knew everything but really did not know anything. And yet, that is exactly what they were.

They did not teach me anything about how to preach or visit hospitals or manage congregational conflict. Both had their imperfections, which taught me that you can still be a good person and do good things despite your faults. They taught me how to care about family, to love other people, to be and do for others rather than just talking a good game.

My one regret is that I did not get to spend more time with them as a minister or friend. While I appreciate that we stayed in touch, I wish we had made more effort to do so over the years.

Being a mentor is not always about how much you know or how much experience you have. More often, it is about the heart that you show and invest in others. That is what both of these men and their families have done–and continue to do–for us over so many years.

I would be remiss if I did not mention their wives and children that have meant the world to us for more than three decades. Theresa and Carol, Carrie and Katie (the ONES), Shannon, Jim, and Susan have meant so much to us for so long. They are a reflection of the unconditional love offered by Gary and Craig. And you all brought out the BEST of who they could be.

Thank God for all the mentors I have in life. Especially those who mentored me by just being the best of who they were.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

Seems pretty straightforward, not a lot of ambiguity or doubt, right? That is, until a bunch of humans get hold of it to put their own “spin” on the first, most fundamental right of American citizens. Much like various readings of the Bible, words can appear simple or straightforward until humans start deciding what they actually say. We can twist a piece of steel pipe into a pretzel if it suits our purposes to make our personally preferred argument.

We do this with stunning regularity to the First Amendment. While I could point to dozens of occasions where this happens (particularly in our current “religious freedom” debates), let’s focus on the most recent circumstances. You probably heard the story or some version/spin about it on social media.

The valedictorian of Clayton High School in Johnson County, North Carolina, was pulled from the microphone for making unauthorized remarks about using our voices to call out suffering of refugees, immigrants, ICE detainees, etc. The principal cut her off at the end after realizing that graduate Leen Hijaz was going off-script with her comments.

Speaking of comments, I read some of those below various Facebook postings about the incident– almost always a mistake. But this time, the posts left some prime discussion topics about the nature of free speech.

Plenty of people left hateful comments towards her and her remarks. Liberal, communist, anti-semite, violent Muslim, America hater. You know the drill. But others zealously defended her, accusing the school of violating her right to free speech. Let’s think about that for a minute, particularly in the context of a graduation speech.

I support Leen Hijaz’s decision to speak to her convictions, and I completely agree with her assertion that students should use their voice to speak out against the ongoing violence and injustice that they see across the globe. I have no issue with the expression of her ideas. And I also have no issue with the principal stopping her.

No school that I know of allows a student to get up at an officially sponsored school event and make a speech without someone looking at it first. Even in middle school, we had to have our student government campaign speeches reviewed by someone (I always lost, btw). Any student that went off-script at any graduation could expect a stoppage and possibly the additional (albeit unnecessary) consequences of her actions.

Our interpretation of the first amendment has taken a seriously wrong turn in recent years. Americans buy into the concept that freedom of speech means freedom from consequences. There is a belief on both sides of the socio-political-religious standoff that one should have permission to say/do whatever they please without any adverse impact. Not only is this unrealistic, it is not assured in the Constitution (in my very amateur-ish interpretation of said document).

The first amendment assures that the government will not impede on one’s speech or religious beliefs. It does not assure everyone that other entities cannot react to such speech. While a school is a government entity, their guidelines for a student speech are (most likely) clearly defined. If the student chooses to go rogue, that is their right. But they are not assured that the school has to allow them to continue beyond what was previously approved.

Simply put, a student who speaks out beyond their approved remarks at a graduation is not assured that she can finish the speech. In my sophomoric opinion, a bakery can refuse to make a cake for a same-sex wedding, but that does not mean they are immune to the legal or social backlash. A web designer can refuse to make a wedding website for a Muslim couple, but they should not cry “First Amendment” when the state or society rebel against their refusal–despite rulings from the 9 Supremes.

In legal parlance, I am WAY out of my league. I will defer to my lawyer buddies to determine if I am on the correct track of constitutional interpretation. While Leen Hijaz had every right to say what she said, she did not have the right to expect her words to be consequence-free.

Therein lies the problem. Too many people, particularly Christians, assume that they can act according to their will and conscience without any negative consequences. When those consequences come, the cries of “religious freedom” and “first amendment” come fast and furious–as long as that amendment works in “our” favor. Citizens and organizations have EVERY right to speak their mind and stand for their values. But they do not have the right to do so while getting off scot-free from any backlash or consequences, legal or otherwise.

In a nutshell, I fully support Hijaz in her right to speak. But she should fully expect that someone would shut down that speech. And she should be prepared to face up to whatever consequences those words may carry. Likewise, a company does not have to bake a cake or create a website. However, they should not expect any more protection for their stance than Hijaz should expect for hers.

We are in an era of ongoing battles about free speech, particularly religious speech. All evidence points to certain kinds of religious speech receiving privilege, while other speech may not be so fortunate. Would Hijaz receive such treatment if she lit into a diatribe about her Christian faith? Some evidence indicates she would have plenty of support for such a stance. There is no way to know.

The point is that a call to speak out, speak up, and take a stand that may not be popular can cost you. Rather than arguing such a stand should not carry consequences, we should be prepared to accept the consequences of doing the right thing. That goes for people of ANY faith, creed, or political conviction.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer knew that his stand against Nazi evil and empire would cost him. He accepted those costs. He never expected the empire to forgive the expense. Gandhi knew the same, never calling on the empire to let him slide. Medgar Evers did the same, and paid the price with his life. Martin Luther King, Jr. fought the forces of racism from a Christian perspective; yet, he accepted the racist persecution of those who claimed to follow Christianity as well.

Some say there is no such thing as a “free lunch.” We could also say that there is no such thing as completely free speech. While the Constitution does not endorse the cost of speaking out, neither should it protect everyone from the inevitable costs that come to those who stand firm in their convictions. Choosing to step outside the lines, particularly in 2026 America, carries inevitable costs.

Rather than shouting about how we should avoid or not have to suffer from these, we should lean into them. Statements worth making are rarely popular. But they need to be said nonetheless.

Like them or not, Leen Hijaz did the right thing by speaking her heartfelt convictions. Rather than wailing about the denial of her rights, let us support her for speaking despite possible consequences. May we all have the strength to speak our convictions in this volatile era. The cost of our silence may well be worse than the price of speaking truth to power.

Lack of time. Job changes. Family issues. Helping friends. Combine all of these things with my overwhelming tendency to procrastinate, and it means I have not gotten very far with this idea. Occasionally, I am ready just to give it up and admit that it will never happen.

Then, there are days like today.

Preaching at Oakland Baptist in Rock Hill, SC, I wore my dad’s ministerial robe, the one I received after my mom passed away in 2022. My hope was his robe might be a little cooler and comfortable than the robe I received years ago after graduating from Pittsburgh Theological Seminary.

It wasn’t. I still felt broiled, even in an air conditioned sanctuary.

When the book idea first popped up in 2018, it was a way to memorialize my dad for his character, ministry, and long list of giving to others, sometimes well beyond his capacity. I was grieving, hurting, missing the man who shaped everything that I am. I was also dealing with my own guilt over not spending enough time with dad because I was “too busy” for a phone call or to stop by the house. While writing about him at that time would likely help me, it probably would not make a good (or honest) book.

Time changes a lot of things, including our perspective on the people/events of our past. Yes, my admiration for T. Spencer LeGrand Sr. remains unchanged. But a little distance from something can drop an avalanche of perspective.

My dad was great in a multitude of ways. He committed himself to making sure people did not go hungry, if he could do anything to stop that. He poured thousands of hours and thousands of dollars into caring for people in need. His ethical standards stood at a height that few of us could possibly reach. He made political choices not based on his own good, but on who he believed would make the biggest difference for others. He spoke up for people who could not speak for themselves.

And yet…

He was not a great teacher. He was all about getting things done, and did not always have the time or patience to teach others. He had a bit of a “Superman” complex, believing that he could do whatever necessary in just about any situation. At times, he spoke up when his thoughts were not wanted. He had an innate need to be needed. And he offered help to others while refusing to ask for help himself. (For those who know ME, is any of this sounding familiar?)

For an honest and more helpful account of my dad’s influence, the good must merge with the “bad.” In other words, it must recognize my dad as fully human, despite the tendency to idolize those who are no longer with us. And here’s the thing: Spencer LeGrand Sr. would want it that way.

Would he argue with my assessment and commentary? Yeah, probably. But in the end, he would not want any memorial that made him more than what he was. His integrity would not suffer a “fluff” piece about his life.

I do not know if I will ever finish this project or complete an entire book about my Dad. However, this Sunday, wearing his robe, reminded me of who my Dad was above all other things, and why he made a difference in the lives of people.

T. Spencer LeGrand was a pastor. Beyond everything else, he was absolutely convinced of his calling to be a pastor. And he lived his life exactly as he thought a pastor should live. He was not perfect. Yet, with few exceptions, he was the same man at home as he was in front of everyone else. That consistency is rare and exceptional, particularly in modern American Christianity.

He did not wear that robe very often–weddings, baptisms, maybe a funeral if the occasion called for it. Every time he wore it, the purpose was a pastoral function. And it reminded me of both the promise and the problems, the hope and the hardship of such a calling.

I never believed that “pastor” was my permanent calling. But when I am called to shift into “pastor mode” for one situation or another, his example is the one I follow.

My friend, colleague, and renowned author Joseph Moore served as an intern at East Park Baptist Church, under Dad’s supervision. Joseph often said he did not remember any sermons that Dad preached or studies that he taught. What he remembers is the encouragement Dad offered, the commitment to visiting the hospitals/nursing homes/homebound folks, and the diligent service to people in need. Dad’s last request of me was to visit a homebound person that my parents helped for many years. Before he died, he wanted the assurance that she knew what was happening.

Preaching on Father’s Day is an honor, as it takes me back to the man who guided me in so many ways until the day he died–and in all the years since September 2018. Hopefully, I can muster up a tenth of that commitment and patience towards the people I encounter.

At the same time, I still struggle to recognize that I am not him, and I do not have to be. Even now, I occasionally cope with the sense that I cannot live up to his standards. Maybe we all have that sense with parents or other mentors in our lives.

Dad told me that he always saw my life’s work going in different directions. Not quite as many directions as it has the last eight years, but he sensed that “pastor” was not lifelong. On those days when I preach–especially wearing his robe–I am reminded of all the good things that he passed along, and all the life lessons I can carry with me, wherever I go.

Maybe it’s time to finally move forward on that book.

I live in South Carolina. Our leaders (and I use that term loosely) in the statehouse have a long, documented record of responding to any historical truth that contradicts the comfortably convenient narrative. In 1961, Dixiecrat types in Columbia placed the confederate flag went on top of the South Carolina statehouse to commemorate the Civil War centennial.

In reality, it was a response to efforts at desegregation.

For 17 years, Republicans (formerly Dixiecrats) fought the recognition of Martin Luther King Jr. Day. When finally signed into law on May 1, 2000, there was a condition applied.

The agreement included a guarantee that confederate Memorial Day would also be recognized in perpetuity.

Since 1961, state Republicans fought to keep the confederate flag on top of the statehouse, followed by a fight to keep it on the front lawn of the statehouse. They kept that battle going until the Mother Emmanuel massacre in 2015. They still fought to keep their grasp on the antebellum mythology (and fortunately lost, again).

While Governor Nikki Haley did the right thing in that one single moment, she later walked back her support of that removal.

Now, we have Juneteenth, a monumental event that people celebrated despite our history classes never mentioning it. Okay, maybe it IS possible that I just wasn’t paying attention, but I never heard anything about it.

But still, people fight. You can see the complaints that this is a “fake” holiday. Politicians are still making the case that Juneteenth is “based on a lie,” because we never learned about it in school. Please note that the commissioner in the linked video cites his son who has an undergraduate degree as a main source. And he makes these statements while wearing a Cross.

News flash: we never learned that South Carolina resisted involvement in the revolution because they needed their militia to guard against slave uprisings. We never learned about groups like the Redshirts. As I have pointed out in other posts, we never learned about Ellenboro, Hamburg, “Pitchfork” Ben Tillman, our history of lynching, or Orangeburg.

These are not lies, any more than Juneteenth. These are inconvenient historical truths that we decided are too hard to face, too hard to own, and too difficult for our sensitive children to hear. You see, I DO think we should teach the truth about history—all of it. This includes the parts we do not like, did not know, and do not want to hear.

We cannot learn by focusing only on the things we got right, or on the things we like to believe. We learn by focusing equally on what we got wrong.

For those who seemed so wounded and offended by the removal of the confederate flag, feel free to fly it in your home, on your car, on your t-shirt, whatever. For those who are outraged and angry about MLK Day, feel free to go to work or just ignore it. For those whose feelings are hurt about the reality and recognition of Juneteenth, no one is forcing you to celebrate or post about it. Feel free to just move along.

Just know this: if you are offended enough to speak against Juneteenth but have nothing to say about recognizing confederate memorial day, you chose the wrong side of history.

As for me, I am glad that this came to my attention long after I left history class. It is a privilege to know it, honor it, and celebrate with those whose lives are changed because of it.

With all of that, as pastor, I wanted to make the point that money does not fix everything. I certainly wanted us to think about the reality that, in a Christ-centered context, money could not be our primary focus! As such, I decided to make a point of this in a sermon one Sunday.

“What if someone won the lottery and donated $10 million to our church. Would that solve all of our problems? Would that ‘fix’ everything?”

As the majority of the crowd shook their heads “No,” Mr. Ken Frazier (99 years old and still driving to church) decided to speak. “Maybe not but it SURE WOULD HELP!”

“Point granted, Mr. Ken!” I mean, what else can you say to that?

Mr. Ken’s comment came to mind this week as I listened to the words of one Mr. Jeff Bezos responding to questions about taxes. (Full interview here). Certainly, he makes some comments with which I agree. He also makes a number of comments that demonstrate ZERO awareness, understanding, or humility towards what average Americans experience. Not to mention plenty of self-aggrandizing statements about his “value” to society.

Bezos says in the interview, “Don’t pretend that’s going to solve the problem. You could double the taxes I pay, and it’s not going to help that teacher in Queens.”

Maybe not. But to quote Mr. Ken: it sure would help.

The notion that multi-billionaires should have absurdly low tax rates because his billions will not help is obscene enough. Perhaps I should just quit paying my taxes because my thousands are not going to solve the problem? Of course, I cannot get away with that because I cannot hire enough lawyers to find the loopholes. And yes, I DO think my small portion/high percentage helps that teacher in Allendale, SC. Or that senior adult who needs health care in Cherokee County. Or that family that needs public transit in Greenville because housing costs make it too expensive to own a car.

Therefore, I am not opposed to paying my fair share. I just want it to go to help other people rather than UFC Fights and Golden Ballrooms and Book Ban legal battles and making more bombs or giving body armor to ICE agents or supporting private religious schools rather than public schools.

When a billionaire talks freely about his “right” to enjoy a 1-2% tax rate while Americans on average have a 14.5% tax rate, then a change of conversation is in order. If money is not important and would not make a difference, then why are billionaires in our country so unwilling to give up any of their money to help others?

Another portion of this interview reveals the truth about Jeff Bezos, his billionaire buddies, and perhaps about us as a society. Bezos says that, “If I do my job right, the value to society and civilization from my for-profit companies will be much, much larger than the good that I do with my charitable giving…people forget or they don’t see that when you create something like Amazon…people can see what an essential service we provide to them.”

And there it is. Bezos is “too big to fail.” Too important to pay taxes or give to charities. Too valuable to be questioned. And why? Because he gets products to us quickly and easily and conveniently, despite having a mass of underpaid, un-unionized workers who have to pee in bottles to keep their job. Or delivery drivers who rent vehicles to make sure they get your deliveries out on time.

I’m sorry, but did we not survive as a society when we had to go to the mall? (Perish the thought, but we DID survive it). We went to Wal-Mart and the grocery store and all kinds of places; and somehow, we lived to tell about it.

Okay, this has serious Dad Bod/GenX/Get-off-my-lawn vibes, for sure. But stay with me. There is a point.

I am as much of an Amazon Addict as anyone out there. (Honestly, do we not all need a 12-step program for this?). They have essentially cornered the market on what you can buy or find in a retail store or other online options. Good for them. They made us believe that we cannot live without them; and their pseudo-monopoly means that we cannot live without them.

But think about this: what “value” does that add to humanity? To society? Jeff Bezos gives us ease and convenience. He also gives us temptation, to buy more and get more and have more. He gives us job opportunities that he is ready/willing/able to take away with the use of Artificial Intelligence and drone technology–all in the name of making sure we have more stuff to fill our closets and cabinets.

When we grant “value” to convenience and massive wealth, we have lost the narrative. Maybe there is something “Christian” in this, as this term long ago lost the narrative of Jesus in many corners of American society. As for the idea of following Jesus Christ, becoming a disciple, or sacrificing for the good of those who need the love of the Lord, convenience and wealth are a long way from holding true “value” to us or society.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s analysis of the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7 for those who tend to skip this part), is instructive. We are all prone to overvalue ourselves as we chase immediate recognition of our “extraordinary” acts, for Christ or others or society. When we say, “Look at me–I’ve done more than my fair share,” we look past Jesus’ call to go beyond ourselves in what we do for others. Championing our accomplishments as justification is “cheap grace.” Looking deeply at what more we could do is the costly grace of discipleship (Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship).

I have no idea if Jeff Bezos claims to be a Christian. But he certainly leans into notions of “cultural Christianity” advocated by his contemporaries in the new Gilded Age of the “Epstein Class.” He has no problem aligning with Christian Nationalist notions if it increases his wealth and power. We do hear him in many aspects claiming to be an essential part of humanity by claiming that he is already doing his “fair share.” Unwillingness to give up the Golden Calf because, “Well, what are those people going to do with it anyway?” is a convenient avoidance of the most basic needs of those attempting to live out basic humanity.

A little accountability could go a long way, while reminding us that the values of the Epstein Class are far from what Jesus calls us to do and who He calls us to be. We cannot wait expectantly for the Epstein Class to fix society, with their money or their entrepreneurial zeal. This would only inflate their already overblown sense of importance. Nor will their financial contributions fix all of our problems.

But it sure would help.

May we act accordingly, no matter how “large” or “small” our contributions to others might be.

(FYI: you cannot be effective if your goal is to make students “like” you, so I am working to get over that).

I left in plenty of time to make my 8 a.m. class with room to spare for any happenings on I-85. Just as I was leaving my neighborhood, it hit–a monsoon of staggering proportions.

I could not see. I could not remotely approach the posted speed limit. Water plowed under my car. “If I can just get to the 4-lane on Pelham Road, I’ll be fine.” But it was far from fine. Pelham Road was engulfed in a sea of downpour I have not seen in decades. My car started to wobble and turn slightly sideways.

How in the HELL could this be happening on the first day of class??? I had to stop to text my supervisor that I was not sure I was going to make it by 8 a.m.

Miraculously, I pulled onto the SMC campus at 7:54 a.m. Gathered my stuff and got out of the car by 7:56. Got into my classroom, soaking wet, by 7:57. This gave me a whole three minutes to sign in to the computer, pull up my course shell that I still could not access, and start class in front of 25 college juniors. And teach something I had never taught in my life.

Last Saturday, the majority of that group graduated with their Bachelor of Arts degrees–either because of me or in spite of me! It was such an honor to watch these students walk the stage and cheer them as they left the arena. Maybe I did not show it in front of them, but the sight of this group finishing the task brought tears to my eyes.

Hours of coaching. Reviewing student presentations. Reading project reports. Advising. Encouraging. Cheering. And the memory of that first class in August 2024 where I barely made it on time and had to fly by the seat of my pants. The honor of watching this group–95% of whom I taught–walk across that stage is a little difficult to describe.

We have some interesting conversations in my classes, probably generated by my comments from time teaching religion, New Testament, ethics, etc. Students often ask, “How did you end up teaching Professional Development at SMC?” (Or something like that).

They are stunned to find out that I could make thousands of dollars more as a first-year teacher in many of our local public school systems. Then they ask, “So why do you do this?” Simply put, the value of calling for a vocation is stronger than money for a job.

Could I be a good public school teacher? Maybe. But is it ultimately the best place for me to be? Probably not.

I like being with this generation that everyone calls lazy or unprepared or “left behind” (pun intended). Everyone tells them to look for value, for jobs, for the “easiest” path to economic success. This is understandable for students who attend my college, as most of them are going into the workforce rather than seeking graduate school. We serve a huge volume of first-generation college students as well as a high BIPOC population. Part of my job is to help THEM get jobs.

This is great, but it is not what gets me out of bed in the morning. It is seeing them think, learn, grow, and find their way forward. It is seeing them as sophomores, griping and complaining every step of the way about “Why do we have to do this?” Then as seniors, they say, “You know, we kind of get it now!”

There are a lot of things that I could do. But my work at SMC is what I feel definitively called and compelled to do. It is partially about helping students navigate their job search and find a way forward. Obviously, we want all of our students to find employment when they graduate.

But it is so much more.

This calling to teach at the college level came to me as a 20-year old. I was not a great student and I was in an extremely tough life situation. While some in the church offered great support, this was not the case across the board. At a time when we needed redemption, a significant number of people offered rejection, even condemnation.

This was not the case for my professors or the Chaplain’s office at Furman University. Despite my status as a less-than-stellar student, the chaplains and the religion faculty went out of their way to offer encouragement. They believed in my academic potential–despite my apparent unwillingness to use that potential.

At that point, I hoped that one day I would have the opportunity to help and support students just as Furman did for me. Did I expect that opportunity to come in the Professional Development department (PDev) of a small Methodist college in upstate South Carolina? Not in the least.

Honestly, at this point I hoped that I would spend my days waxing poetic about the importance of Christian ethics or New Testament values or Christian educational reforms. But those options never developed. PDev did. As odd as it feels not to be engaged in full-on church and ministry topics, our Camak Core curriculum gives plenty of chances to challenge students to step out and step up.

In four years as a Chaplain at Limestone University, I developed a lot of close relationships with students. But nothing quite matched the fast-growing relationships from two years at SMC. Capstone projects create fast friends! It is such a privilege to teach, coach, and guide this group towards their next steps in the journey of life.

So what does this teach us about our vocation, our calling in faith?

You do not have to be a preacher, pastor, evangelist, youth minister, or Christian “influencer” to make a difference in the lives of people. In fact, you may do more OUTSIDE of these faith professions than you can do on the inside. The Spirit of God does not just call ministers. The Spirit can call anyone to any number of tasks, jobs, volunteer opportunities, or responsibilities.

(For the record, that includes the calling of women into ministry).

I want my students to get jobs. But I also want them to explore their calling, their vocation, something that gets them out of bed in the morning beyond the ability to make money. This could be something that is a part of their job; or it could be something beyond what they do to pay their bills. Either way, it challenges students to think about meaning and purpose over money and mammon.

That is what gets ME out of bed in the morning. Helping students find a way to pay the bills, but also helping them find a way to make their life extraordinary, to find their search for meaning. This may never translate to any fame or fortune. But if students find purpose, the ripple effects extend well beyond what most people see.

Sometimes, our friendships look exactly like “The Odd Couple.” Only the contrast is often beyond a wild, messy roommate vs. an OCD neat freak.

I had lengthy conversations, disagreements, arguments, social media spats, etc. with a buddy from a former church. We have long since lost contact, but maintained a relationship for seven or eight years after I left that congregation–despite our multiple sparring sessions over the Bible, theology, and life in general.

As the pastor in this pairing, I managed to maintain my composure (usually) in the midst of debate. But one of my friend’s points of righteous outrage never made sense. I never understood it.

Now, keep in mind that I am a “proud” South Carolinian. That is in quotation marks because it does not mean I like everything my home state does. In fact, I often hate certain things that our leadership does. We are bottom 10 in almost every meaningful metric–except one. We have more measles cases than any state in the nation.

That said, I have EVERY right to criticize South Carolina because I am from here! Those of you who AIN’T (yeah I said it!) from here can take your carpetbagging selves back to wherever you came from! Okay, not literally…but kind of?

While internally I feel this way, my brain tells me that this is nonsense. While I have little patience for the “We did it like this in Ohio” declarations, anyone has a right to be critical of where they live. Criticism is annoying, perhaps painful. But it is also necessary to help us see how to be better.

My friend never took this approach; in fact, he was quite the opposite. Whenever someone criticized the state on social media or in person, he bristled like an angry porcupine. “Well, then, just LEAVE! If you don’t like it then get out!” And this is not unusual. There is an element that levels the same rhetoric at those who criticize the United States in any way, shape, or form.

I never understood this. And I still don’t understand it.

A variation of this arose in recent weeks over the performance of Bad Bunny at halftime of Super Bowl LX. After posting on Facebook regarding the faux controversy (likely not a great move), multiple people came with a slew of different assessments of the Puerto Rican rapper. One that caught my attention:

“Yes but Bad Bunny acts like he hates the U.S.!”

Does he?

Bad Bunny is from the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico. It has regular problems with its power grid, hurricanes, political upheaval, poverty, etc. Not surprisingly, a U.S. Citizen might have some critiques of the government response to such problems.

This performer has criticized U.S. policy towards Puerto Rico. He is outspoken about the policy and practice of Immigration and Customs Enforcement. He supports political organizations that want Puerto Rican independence. He has criticized the Trump administration. In fact, he has some connections that support Puerto Rican independence.

And I am at a loss for how that translates to “Bad Bunny hates America!”

We are a country born from protest. No matter the reason or the perpetrators (both of which were likely far from perfect), we are born from a culture of resistance, of opposition, and of protest towards the ruling authorities. My Christian background/denomination is one born of protest as well. Baptists came from a tradition that resisted regulation from the government and fought diligently against the merger of the power of God and secular state authority.

Those days, I am sad to say, are long gone. However, why would I oppose a singer at the Super Bowl halftime show (an invented “American” event) because he supports things that birthed my view of America, faith, and religion?

I do not think Bad Bunny’s views mean that he “hates” America. In fact, I think his views are more American than most people realize. We are a country born of protest and defiance of authority. Christianity, before it became a sanitized product of Euro-American society, was born out of protest and defiance.

For this reason, I am glad to hear from those who are willing to defy the norms of co-opted events like the Super Bowl halftime show. This was not even a thing until a rebellious group of comedians irreverently challenged a norm. Their approach was not always correct, but they were the ones who facilitated the change. Remember that when anyone tells you about the “American Tradition” of Super Bowl halftime shows, it started as a response to a team of predominantly African-American performers.

Those who challenge the norms and predominant views of God, country, and government may not be on the wrong side of history. In fact, they may be the ones who lead us into a much better history than we ever anticipated. At the very least, their critiques of the government or the current situation does not make one less American.

To the contrary, it may make them very American. After all, we are a nation born from protest. May we find the strength to hear the critiques of others rather than trying to silence and suppress their voices.

Our state “leaders” picked a doozy of a key issue: The Ten Commandments. And making sure they are posted in schools.

Someone posted a social media poll asking if residents of my home state supported this posting requirement for all schools. I replied, “No. And I am a pastor.” (okay, former pastor actually, but still). A friend and former church member from years ago asked the question, “Why are you opposed to this?” Here is my response.

It is religiously-motivated. Despite denials, quotes from Rep. Robby Robbins of Dorchester reveal the reality. “Those commandments were codified in the Bible, which is the holy word of God, and there is nothing wrong with educating children…on the Ten Commandments,” Robbins said.

He is correct. But educating them in a public school where students are present who do not hold this view of the Bible or God is, in fact, indoctrinating rather than educating.

Not all students in this state are Christian. Not all believe the Bible to be “holy” or the “Word of God.” Posting something on a wall is not educating. The only way to make this educational is to teach these. Reading the first three commandments tells us that this cannot be done outside of a Christian sectarian perspective.

It is Performative. Posting these in every school or classroom is an exercise in authority, an effort to say we are doing this because we can. Our people are in charge and the proof is on the wall. Posting the 10 Commandments is much less important than working to follow them.

Many will celebrate its passage (and I feel sure it will pass), pat themselves on the back, and post all over social media about the signing ceremony that Gov. Henry McMaster will certainly host in front of a slew of cameras. Many will cheer this law because we can feel like we did something without having to actually do anything. But making a show of Scripture and the Commandments does not honor the gracious sacrifice of Jesus.

It is short-sighted. Interestingly, the 10 Commandments are the “weapon” of choice for these political performances.

If we insist on posting and taking action on what we believe to be God’s commands, may I suggest that we look at much more instructive passages? We could try the Beatitudes, or any number of passages from Matthew 5-7. Or Matthew 22:15-22.

God as revealed in Scripture seems more concerned that we immerse ourselves into learning and LIVING holy commandments rather than framing them as another showpiece that collects dust, on the wall and in our hearts.

Is our hope to truly change or influence the hearts of people, when we establish this list into law? Or is it simply to prove who is in charge and who is in control?

It defies the Constitution. Certainly, many will debate the purpose, meaning, or intent of the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment. Considering the words of Rep. Robbins, it is difficult to argue that this action does not establish or favor one particular religion. A study of history might reveal that the cause of Jesus Christ is rarely advanced through political powers trying to advance the establishment of Christianity.

It is pointless. Many Christians support this because we are more concerned with appearances than action. Aside from proving the ability of Christian Nationalists to put a meaningless feather in their cap, posting a Bible list in a classroom likely does nothing. Much like flyers and posters on every bulletin board or wall in every school or classroom in America, the odds that someone reads, follows, or remembers is minimal. This is not about changing or improving the lives of students. This is about a group of people proving that they can push their ideals on others.

Here’s the thing: Our political leaders are more concerned about what books we have in libraries than they are about the fact that most students cannot read an entire book. Teachers are struggling to make a living. We are ignoring the teacher shortage/teacher turnover problem. The legislature makes the news by raising teacher pay, but they do not fund those pay increases.

Yet, we spend our energy on a performative display of putting a Bible poster on the wall. This not only ignores the real problems in schools in favor of making headlines. It deflates the Commandments from something we follow to just another flyer.

Rather than passing laws that endorse performative Christianity, our legislators (and Christians) could get busy about the business of living the commandments. Embedding the heart and spirit of God’s instruction into our lives is much more urgent than passing a school poster law. Deuteronomy 6 would like a word:

The Lord is our God, the Lord alone.[a] 5 You shall love the Lord your God with all YOUR heart and with all YOUR soul and with all YOUR might. 6 Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart. 7 Recite them to your children and talk about them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise. 8 Bind them as a sign on your hand, fix them as an emblem[b] on your forehead, 9 and write them on the doorposts of YOUR house and on YOUR gates.

Then again, we would also do well to remember that Jesus narrowed the list down a bit:

‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the greatest and first commandment. 39 And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ 40 On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.” (Matthew 22)

Imagine what could happen if we stopped pretending to care about the Ten and focused our energy on living the Two.

“More than one thing can be true.”

This came to mind when watching a group of anti-ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) protesters enter Cities Church in Minneapolis on Sunday, January 18.

Full disclosure: I am not a fan of what these protesters did. Although I sympathize with the reasons, this did not feel like a wise move. They could have accomplished the same thing without completely disrupting the worship service. Their action was likely to evoke an equal and opposite reaction–which it did, since several of the protest leaders were arrested.

Standing outside the service and waiting on the crowd to disperse might have produced the same impact. Although it may well have created the same reaction from the federal authorities.

The protest has evoked all variety of reaction among those who saw the video, which is expected in our YouTube and TikTok-based society.

What prompted this protest? David Easterwood is a pastor at the Minneapolis church and serves as the ICE director for the Twin Cities area. I know nothing of this man’s heart or his reasons for serving as a pastor and an agent for ICE. I doubt that I would attend this church or agree with their overall theology. But disagreement does not justify ultimate judgment of any person or church.

What we do know and can say without question is that protest is not intended to make people comfortable. Protest is to raise awareness, disrupt the status quo, and/or call into question the policies or processes of injustice that are visited upon others. Making a scene is the point.

This protest has evolved into a significant debate about “What would Jesus do?” and why the effort should be justified or vilified. Some argue that Jesus would never disrupt a worship service, while others point out that Jesus turned over the tables in the Temple right before going to the Cross.

We can debate all day the meaning of Jesus turning over the tables of the moneychangers at the outer edge of the Temple (Mark 11, Matthew 21, Luke 19, John 2). Some will say, “Jesus never went INSIDE to disrupt the service!” Or we could look at Jesus’ rejection in Nazareth (Mark 6, Luke 4, Matthew 13). One could make a solid case that Jesus disrupted worship in both places.

But I will spare you the agony of that argument and the lengthy trail of biblical references and interpretations. Rather, let us consider a question: why are we more upset at a group of people disrupting a worship service than we are at the murders of various people, the disruption of the lives of a community, and the treatment of the “alien” (Leviticus 19, Deuteronomy 10)?

Maybe it is time that someone disrupted our worship and challenged how we are following the way of Jesus. Maybe we need someone from outside to call us to attention. Once in a while, we need someone to bring a different set of lenses to enable us to see.

Without delving into a discussion of the methods of protest in Minnesota, I call your attention to why we may need our worship to be disrupted. Start with Amos 5, particularly Amos 5:21-24 where the prophet shares that God hates our festivals and practices that ignore the need for justice.

Beyond that, take a look at what those who call themselves pastors, priest, and Christian leaders are saying. And ask yourself if this aligns with the way of Jesus in any aspect.

I will not show who they are as I refuse to give additional publicity to them. You can probably find them on your own if you choose. Just remember that people are listening to these voices and celebrating them as leaders of the Christian faith.

Perhaps we are ignoring Matthew 5: 38 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’39 But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. 40 And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. 41 If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. 42 Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.

Thes are word from those who claim to be “ministers of the Gospel” and “Bishops of Christ.” If Jesus teaches us the way of “zero pity,” “just winning,” and “no mercy,” then I would LOVE to see someone point that out. Or where we should seek the rewards of “the voters” over the path of Jesus.

Despite disagreement with the method, it is well past time to listen to the cries of those outside the church or those who burst into the door to call us out. We have married ourselves to politics and culture and concern for self rather than following Jesus towards ultimate concern for others. When we are more worried about our songs, sermons and sacrificial offerings than the people suffering outside our doors, then we have lost our way.

No, Jesus did not take a crowd of people into worship services. But He certainly had no hesitation about disrupting the status quo or challenging the religious practices that ignored those in need and maintained the status quo.

If we are supposed to follow the example of Jesus, maybe we need to be doing the same. And paying attention to those who call us out for failing in this task.

He wrote a very long piece. It was multiple pages for an exam essay. He wrote about different things in the Bible and put forward a lot of thoughts about faith. It included a variety of ideas, some of which made sense. There was only one problem: he never answered the question. He wrote around the question (WAY around) but never came close to doing what the question asked him to do.

He failed that section of the exam. Which infuriated him.

Emails flew out to my faculty chair, supervisor, Title IX office, and the board of trustees. Maybe the attorney general and the governor for all I know.

When asked, my response was the same. He did not answer the question. He wrote about the Bible and used “Bible” and “Word of God” a lot in the essay. Not being “wrong” does not necessarily mean you got the assignment “right.” And the grade stood, thanks to an administration that supported academic freedom.

I notice that invoking the word “Bible” is considered by many to be evidence or proof of a point. I hear phrases like “I believe the Bible” or “I follow the Bible” or “The Bible is the inerrant, infallible word of God” or “The Bible clearly states.” Lots of people cite what “the Bible says” without sharing a passage, reference, or academic citation for what the Bible actually says.

Worse yet, some think just saying “the Bible” justifies anything else that they say, and nothing further is needed. Just saying “the Bible” means you answered the question or fulfilled the requirements of the assignment.

Case in point: a student at Oklahoma University who claimed religious discrimination by a professor after she said “the Bible” multiple times. Samantha Fulnecky revels in the popularity she receives as a so-called “victim” in the culture wars.

Here’s the thing: she never actually cites the Bible. She never quotes a passage of Scripture. She provides zero evidence of her demon-possession claims. At least my student tried to quote some actual texts, despite missing the point. Saying “Bible” or “Word of God,” even in a religion class, is not enough to address the question(s) at hand.

As a professor, I will give heed to any evidence-supported argument that a student offers, IF it follows the directions and answers the question. When there is no effort towards that goal, students do not receive a good grade.

Apparently, that is now an excuse to claim “religious discrimination.” Such a claim earns 15 minutes of fame in evangelical Christian circles and a good excuse for a GoFundMe. The fomented social media posts and faith-based outrage mask the reality.

Samantha Fulnecky earned the zero she received. She chose not to do the assignment. She did not cite the Bible or any other relevant source material. She offered no relevant support for her argument. She allegedly admitted to giving the essay very little time or attention.

I can only offer empty speculation for her motivation, but the ultimate result was certainly something she wanted. Her well-earned failing grade was overturned and the professor dismissed.

In the midst of this “success” of having her grade overturned, the truth is that Fulnecky failed. She failed because she had the opportunity to learn something, and she chose not to do so. And the college administration supported her choice not to learn.

Actually, let me rephrase that. Fulnecky did not fail. We failed.

For decades, we have fed youth groups standard lines about what “the Bible clearly states” without challenging them to search Scripture, their hearts, or the studies and research of others.

Catch phrases and ecstatic experiences replaced the soul-searching discipleship of Jesus Christ. Beyond that, we forgot to teach them that disciples can disagree, or that the call to discipleship is about learning and growth. If our response is defense over meditation and consideration, then how true are our convictions?

Preachers and politicians rail against “liberal” professors trying to “destroy” the faith of young people. Are there a few such people out there? Probably. But most of us just want young people to THINK and LEARN and articulate their beliefs in an effective, evidence-based way.

Samantha Fulnecky leaned into that. She not only missed the opportunity to learn and understand. She also missed the chance to articulate her faith in a more effective way.

I think about this on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Some will take the day off without a thought about Dr. King. Others will take the day off and think about how ridiculous it is that we celebrate Dr. King. Some will put up quotes from the “I Have a Dream” speech without reading/listening to anything else the Reverend said. Still others will quote that speech while voting to ban his books from school libraries.

Even those of us who attend the events or parades might miss the main thing that Dr. King wanted us to do: learn and understand. By reading a new article, listening to a different voice, paying attention to a professor, and allowing our current perspectives to be challenged, we can learn and understand. And engaging in such ways does not have to change our minds to make us better people.

And better disciples.

My student who sparred with me about his exam essay lost his battle for a better grade. But in the end, he won. And I won–not because the grade held, but because we both learned. His final exam essay paid attention to the assignment and he answered the question–and got an “A” for the class. I learned some lessons about interacting with students and managing those who may complain about their grade.

And the following fall, we worked closely together to make our campus a better place. We had a meaningful relationship. And we stay in touch as I moved to a new position and as he studies to be a minister.

Who knows what relationships we might grow if we listen and learn rather than viewing everyone as an enemy to be defeated? How much better can we be if we open our minds rather than looking at the “other” as an enemy?

I am glad for the students who choose to develop rather than defend or deny. I am grateful for faith that is willing to think when challenged rather than closing hearts and minds. Rather than clinging to what we always thought, may we accept the challenge of Dr. King to be made new. Not by clinging to what was, but by opening our hearts and minds to what can be.

The way of Christ does not mean clinging to the answers we always had. The way of Christ is considering the answers we never knew, saw, or considered.

This is a story familiar to almost anyone who attended a church on Christmas Eve, or had a child (or participated in) a church Christmas play.

Three guys from a long way off show up with fancy, expensive stuff and place it at the feet of Jesus the Living Christ Child. Never mind that Jesus could probably walk and talk by the time they showed up. These people and their entourage followed a star and their hearts for countless miles to see what would happen.

Once in a while, the wife and I will be on a trip and say, “Let’s see where that road goes!” We drive a few miles and turn around. This is not what the Magi/Wise Men do. They keep going until they find the end of the line. And this is where they find Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

But this is not why I am writing this. Many of us know that part of the story while glossing over the rest of the story. (RIP Paul Harvey and Google it, Millenial/GenZ!).

The Magi/Wise Men are identified as “kings” in hymns, religious folklore, and popular culture. While no Bible translation says this, they are identified as men of wisdom and means. Few could undertake long journeys unless they had assets for such pursuits. After all, there is no ATM on the way to Jerusalem.

In short, these may have been Herod’s kind of people. They had money. They had much to gain by associating with the ruler of Jerusalem. They likely could gain financially and politically by currying favor with Herod. And other than rampant curiosity, they did not seem to have any direct connection to Jesus or the prophecies associated with Him.

Yet, they listened. They paid attention. And when the message came that Herod might have ill will against the child they originally sought, they left behind their social, political, or financial ambitions to do what was right.

We live in a modern era where our primary question is, “What’s in this for me?” It does not matter if you are liberal or conservative, Baptist or Catholic, nondenominational or atheist. Overwhelmingly, our chief concern is defined by the question, “What about me?”

The people of the United States make election decisions based on their economic status, choosing the person that says the self-interest of “the people” is their main concern. We buy into the person that says they will protect OUR religion, OUR faith against those who allegedly threaten us. We think some “king” will protect us against anyone who might disagree.

Time and time again, dating back to the birth of the Living Christ, we find this to be a false assumption. In the story of Jesus, the heroes are not those claiming to worship the newborn “king.” It is not those aligning with political power or socio-economic gain. It is those who are open to seeking a path that is beyond their own self-interest. It is those willing to stop asking “What’s in it for me?” and pursue what is most urgent for the whole of society rather than the upper crust of society.

In a truth that we rarely care to acknowledge, the Living Christ does not offer the luxury of asking, “What about me?” The Christ of Christmas and the Christ of the Cross demands that we ask, “What about them?”

Around 1937, Dietrich Bonhoeffer began to ask questions about this in Lutheran Germany, as it fell into the hands of Lutheran Nazi sympathizers. In his Ethics and The Cost of Discipleship, he cites comfort and self-interest as the prime motivations of Lutheran Christians who went along with Nazi policy. And he clearly states that this is self-preservation over discipleship, in the form of “cheap grace.”

“To be ‘Lutheran’ must mean that we leave the following of Christ to legalists, Calvinists, and enthusiasts–and all for the sake of grace. We justified the world, and condemned as heretics those who tried to follow Christ. The result was that a nation became Christian…but at the cost of true discipleship.” (pp. 57-58).

Those who claim to be disciples of Christ are at a crossroads. Will we do that thing that earns fame, fortune, popularity, and political power? Or will we choose to pay the cost of discipleship to the Living Christ who bows to no one? Will we continue to seek what is in it for us, or will we follow a Jesus who welcomes the other?

I have nothing but random thoughts on the future of Christianity, the church, the United States, or those who consider themselves disciples of Christ. But I state without reservation that what passes for “Christianity” is a far cry from Jesus the Christ. If we are willing to forgo ethics, values, and the words of Scripture in pursuit of “What’s in it for me?,” then we are far afield of the Jesus found in a humble home in Bethlehem by wealthy travelers.

Those wealthy and perhaps powerful men left behind the enticements of the equally wealthy and powerful Roman leader, choosing instead to do the right thing. Will we continue to side with those who we think give us power, or will we choose to do what is right as full disciples of Jesus Christ?

This is our choice this–and every–Christmas season. And beyond.

At the funeral home, our friends asked, “What are YOU doing here?” Good question, since we left 58 degree weather in South Carolina to drive/fly into 18 degrees with wind and snow. However, I remember how it lifted my heart to see our friends from Camden County in the receiving line at services for both of my parents. Their 8-hour trek made a huge difference.

So there we are, in the most difficult of circumstances but reveling in much-needed time with old friends and family. It was a bad thing that turned into a good thing. And as Mr. Craig McDowell would want it, a sad occasion morphed into a joyful celebration.

During the service at Sampson’s Mills Presbyterian, I began to ponder the role and responsibility of the pastor–a role I have played in the past to some critical acclaim. But also to my fair share of critique and criticism (likely deserved).

I thought about the former pastor, Jessica McClure Archer, who served many years and knew the McDowells well. She is now the head of Pittsburgh Presbytery, but made sure to get to the visitation on Friday night. I thought about the interim pastor preaching the Word, offering remembrance, kindness, and hope for a man he had not known all that long. I pondered on the calling to honor the one that is lost but gained in Christ, and the responsibility to provide some level of comfort and care in the most challenging of circumstances.

This is what it means to call oneself “pastor.” And to be called as pastor. No matter how the term is demeaned and belittled, it is a noble (but not always noteworthy) calling.

There are “good” pastors and “bad” pastors, although the meaning of those terms is likely in the mind of the beholder. It does not matter what a pastor does, some people will love you. Others will dislike you, or perhaps even revile and despise you. But the pastor strives to remain faithful to a call on the soul that surpasses or ignores such designations.

The pastor shows up for those who love AND for those who dislike/despise. They show up anyway, and stay until they are directed that their presence is not wanted or needed. They sit in hospital rooms with those who are dying. They pray with the family before, during, and after a tragedy or a celebration. The best ability is availability, and the call of the pastor above all things is to be available.

I meditate on this in light of some things that I see about churches and pastors. Megachurches are a thing in American Christianity and they are not going away soon. Some put on Christmas celebrations that rival a television production, with fake snowballs and renditions of “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.” To those who enjoy this, please continue to worship as you see fit.

But when a tragedy comes, do not expect a pastor to be there.

I am reminded of a conversation with a hospital chaplain some years ago. Serving at a local hospital, a patient asked her to call the “pastor” of their very large multi-campus church. He wanted a visit from this man as his time was growing short. She made that call, only to be told that this man did not have time to come. To paraphrase this man’s response to the chaplain: I don’t have time to go to hospitals for people. That’s YOUR job!

Again, this is not a post to criticize megachurches or their approach. Many attend and many are fine with this. However, it is noteworthy to recognize what is lost when the pastor cannot possibly know your name or your situation.

Pastor Steve at Sampson’s Mills did not know the McDowell family for long. But he did know them, and personally spent time with them. He knew them well enough to ask questions and find out about Craig. He never saw Craig at his very best, but he did see him. As the message demonstrated, he took very seriously the responsibility to provide care and comfort to this family in their time of grief.

Pastor Steve will likely not receive any accolades for his work. No one will put up statues or commend him for having the biggest/best/baddest church in the Pittsburgh area. But he gives the impression that he could not care less about such things. His concern was this family. And his concern as pastor is for this church and these people and moving them forward to find their leadership for the future.

I previously mentioned Rev. McClure Archer, and her affiliation with Sampson’s Mills. During my time in the late 1990s, it was unimaginable that an SMPC pastor would end up as the lead of Pittsburgh Presbytery. For those in Greenville, SC: it would be the equivalent (on opposite ends of the theological spectrum) to a pastor at Augusta Heights or First Baptist leading the Greenville Baptist Association!

However, on Friday, December 19, she was not Rev. Archer of Pittsburgh Presbytery. She was Pastor Jessica. She was a friend who led her church and cared for her flock according to her calling by the Jesus that we celebrate at Christmas. And that is what makes her and Steve and all those called to pastoral ministry uniquely special and meaningful.

Despite leading a huge organization and carrying the burden of multiple responsibilities (at Christmas), she showed up. She was present. And if nothing else, a pastor has to be present.

These folks will never lead huge churches. They will not have satellite congregations or book deals or YouTube followings or start imaginary institutions of higher learning. They will simply be present–quietly consoling and supporting the people they love, even if those people do not love them back.

This is precisely what we often overlook about the living Christ at Christmas. God did not come to us to be popular, to get recognition, or to gather the “cool kids” of the day. God came as Jesus Christ to answer the call to the hurting, the poor, the afflicted, the mournful, and those that we ignore in the midst of our celebrations. Jesus reminds us that the love of family and friends, even at the worst of times, far outweighs any puffed up superficial celebration.

On our way out of White Oak, we stopped at Patti’s Pasticceria, a place that I love although I have never been there. It is owned by Andrew Macey and his mother, Patti. Andrew was in middle school when I was at SMPC. Patti and her family were a delight and a treasure to us. It was so great to see them after all these years, and to purchase a DELICIOUS nut roll from the bakery. Yes, we miss the Pittsburgh treats here in the south.

We talked with Andrew about old times, youth group days, laser tag events, lock-ins, etc. He shared that he read my blog and appreciated it. I never had the biggest congregation, a YouTube following, or anything that drew major attention to my ministry in Pittsburgh. But I had the Maceys, the McDowells, the Hillmars, the Keefers, etc. I had the people who reminded me why I believe in the Living Christ, and why I do what I do.

Thank God for Pastor Steve, Pastor Jessica, and those who recognize that their calling is about much more than recognition. Thank God for John Roy, Toni Pate, Matt King, Jeff Rogers, Deb Richardson-Moore, Stephen Clyburn, Paul Moore, Greg Dover, and all the other pastors who sit with the lonely, worried, sick, and dying—a calling that will not advance their wallet or career. It is simply a calling.

And thank God for Craig McDowell. May he know that, despite our mournfulness, his last act brought joy and appreciation for what the love of Jesus can do.

In recent weeks, we have witnessed public debates and controversies over Nativity scenes. This is nothing new. For decades or longer, churches and municipalities and communities debated over where nativity scenes should go or how they should be displayed.

In the age of ICE, this debate takes on an escalated and more volatile meaning.

During this Advent season, multiple churches displayed Nativity scenes that included Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents. Some of these scenes depict the Holy Family as being absent because of these agents. Others depict the infant Jesus handcuffed by ICE agents. People are offended by these scenes, to the point of destroying the depictions on church property.

Perhaps “freedom of religion” only applies to religious expression that suits us.

Articles pop up on our feeds about these “controversial” depictions of ICE agents attacking the Holy Family. It offends some people that such depictions interrupt the beautiful, peaceful scenes we normally see in our home nativity sets or at our church Christmas pageants.

Good.

On so many levels, the birth of Jesus is beautiful. Like many of you, I love the peaceful, gorgeous nativity scenes in my house, on my office desk, at my church, etc. But maybe we are a little too comfy and cozy with the decor to see the full reality.

When we are offended at a scene where the birth of Christ is imagined as a protest against injustice, then we have lost the narrative. We can recognize both the beauty and scandalous nature of God’s arrival here on earth.

The very birth of Jesus is a form of protest, comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable. Some religious folk, Christian leaders, and political authorities speak out loudly against these ICE-infused manger scenes. But maybe it is time for those of us who are comfortable to be more afflicted.

Think about this for a minute. The Roman government dragged an unmarried pregnant woman and her future husband 90 miles across rocky and dangerous land. She then gave birth in a stable before placing her child in a feed trough.

17 “You shall not deprive a resident alien or an orphan of justice; you shall not take a widow’s garment in pledge. 18 Remember that you were a slave in Egypt and the Lord your God redeemed you from there; therefore I command you to do this… 22 Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt; therefore I am commanding you to do this. (Deuteronomy 24:17-22)

Jesus comes to bring joy and beauty into the world, to be sure. He also came to make sure we do all we can to share that joy and beauty rather than hoard it. The way Jesus enters the world is a call to remember that we are all poor outcasts, foreigners, and aliens. He comes to call us to stand with our fellow poor outcasts, foreigners, and aliens. Not justify their treatment by calling human beings “illegals.”

People quickly point out that Mary and Joseph were not aliens in Bethlehem. They were “legal.” True–but does anything about this story indicate that they felt warm and welcomed or in any way at home after their forced journey?

Let us also recall that Scripture tells a story of legal authorities bringing power down on innocent babies and families in an effort to kill the Christ child. Herod did not give a single thought to the “legal status” of the Child or the family.

If we celebrate the story of the arriving Christ this season, then we must celebrate and soak in ALL of the story. We are called to our knees in a humble, dirty stable where a family, dragged and haggard and in great danger,

Yes, appreciate the beauty that we see NOW in the nativity. But may we also remember that the original was grueling, dirty, and scandalous. This is where God comes to earth–not in the form of the comfortable, but in the form of the afflicted. That says a lot about who Jesus is, and who Jesus calls us to be. And Scripture leaves little room for us to decide which of these is or is not “worthy.”

Again, I fail at this all the time. I rush past the homeless person or overlook the struggling student. I constantly feel that I am not doing enough for others as I drink coffee and gorge myself on cookies under the warm Christmas lights. And once again, we are compelled to hear Jesus’ response to a question He is asked long after His birth:

29 But wanting to vindicate himself, (the expert in the law) asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

I have thoughts, but cannot ultimately answer that for anyone. We all have to discern how Jesus calls on us to answer–and that answer may not be easy or pretty. If ICE agents and zip-tied infants in manger scenes compel us to think more deeply about this question, then they are doing exactly what the original Nativity story intends.

Call to action

One thing I have intended to do (and often forgotten) on this much-tougher-than-I-anticipated Advent writing quest is to offer ideas on how we can serve in our community. Here are two ideas for you to consider in Greenville, SC. For those who are elsewhere, do not hesitate to offer ideas for your own communities.

Greenville Connects is raising funds to improve public transportation in the city, a key element to empowering underserved communities. If they reach their fundraising goal, they can receive $62,000 in matching funds. You can donate here.

Together Greenville: A Home for All is seeking volunteers to help with monthly “street counts” to determine actual numbers of unhoused people in the city. Considering the city’s recent “No Camping” ordinance, this work is all the more urgent.

You can sign up for that here.

7 “If there is among you anyone in need, a member of your community in any of your towns within the land that the Lord your God is giving you, do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward your needy neighbor. 8 You should rather open your hand, willingly lending enough to meet the need, whatever it may be. 9 Be careful that you do not entertain a mean thought, thinking, ‘The seventh year, the year of remission, is near,’ and therefore view your needy neighbor with hostility and give nothing; your neighbor might cry to the Lord against you, and you would incur guilt. 10 Give liberally and be ungrudging when you do so, for on this account the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in all that you undertake. 11 Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.’

For years, I listened to arguments about when, where, how, and who we should help, particularly with money. “Don’t give them money because they’ll just use it for drugs and alcohol!”

Okay, no money. This is not a terrible policy to follow for multiple reasons–if it simply stopped there.

This typically tumbles into other areas. Do not buy them things, they are only freeloaders. Do not help them find a place to go because they know where to go. Do not buy them a meal because then they will use money to buy drugs and alcohol. And above all, make sure to go on social media and rant about someone with SNAP benefits buying cookies or soda.

Advent is a great time to stop ourselves and ask a question. Do we really want to be in community with people who need help, who are poor, who are not wise or good with their resources, or who simply have no resources? Or do we prefer to find as many reasons as we can NOT to help or get involved with those in difficult–or perhaps dire–circumstances?

Today, I pulled into the QT gas station on Wade Hampton Blvd. in Greenville, South Carolina. With headphones on and listening to a podcast, I noticed a woman parked at the pump in front of me, holding a gas can and talking to a man at the pump next to her. I kind of ignored it, absorbed in filling up my wife’s car and listening to whatever blather is on iTunes.

Eventually, this woman looked at me with an expression begging for help. I pulled the headphones to ask what was happening and this poor lady was trying to figure out how to get a gas can to work. She had a little gas in it, could not get it to open, could not get the nozzle to work, and did not have enough on her card to just buy some gas.

Whatever her reasons or circumstances, this woman and her daughter were clearly on the outside looking in. They are the people about whom many Christians would say, “Don’t give them money!” or talk about them buying cookies with a SNAP card or wonder out loud if they just want to use their money for drugs.

They are also God’s creation. Jesus comes to them just as He comes to us. They are waiting for hope and peace this Advent season, just as we are.

For 15 years, I have studied and worked intently on how to serve others faithfully and effectively. The only definitive conclusion from these years of study and work is that there is no definitive conclusion on how to faithfully and effectively serve others. Certainly, there are no easy answers or simple solutions. It is hard, painstaking, and tedious in the best of circumstances.

The “effective” part is particularly hard. But today, I want to think about the “faithful” part. Because sometimes doing what is faithful carries no guarantee of effectiveness, but we do it anyway.

We talk about these things as if we are concerned that God will judge us for giving money to someone who does not “deserve” it. Maybe God is much more disturbed by what we choose not to do for those on the outside, those our society and culture (and our churches) view as outcasts or “less than.”

I filled a woman’s car with gas and showed her how to use her spare gas can. Let’s not pretend that this was any great sacrifice. It cost $27 and maybe 10 minutes of my time, both of which I had to spare. This woman said that she was headed to a shelter with her daughter. Maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe she was lying. Maybe she was running a scam to get someone to buy her gas.

What is the more faithful path: to have the resources available and ignore this person on the outside? Ask for proof that she was heading to a shelter? Require a bank statement from her?

Or does being faithful mean that we take the risk and pray that this woman and her child can safely reach their destination, whatever it might be? If a tank of gas and 10 minutes is the cost of faithfulness, that is a pretty cheap bill.

The wisdom of Proverbs keeps it short and to the point:

“Those who oppress the poor insult their Maker, but those who are kind to the needy honor him” (14:31).

This woman and her child have the same Maker as we do. We may one day have to answer to that Maker if we pretend otherwise.

Not one of us likes the feeling of being on the outside looking in, of being the outcast. May we remember that those are the very people first summoned by God to find Jesus in the manger. And may we act accordingly. Leaving them on the outside with their face pressed against the window, looking for some glimmer of hope, is not an option for those who follow the Living Christ.

Let me close by saying that there are plenty of times when I could have/should have opened my hand to help someone and did not. Like all of us, I still have a long journey to the manger. Hopefully, we can all take a minute this Advent season to look beyond ourselves to invite the “outsider” to come in.

If nothing else, I try to be an Equal Opportunity Offender. Keep in mind: this is all tongue-in-cheek and does have a point! Hopefully…

As a lifelong fan, player, and graduate of a small southern school, I do not have a ton of love for the “big boys” of college football. But I am a casual fan of a few teams. None of those teams, however, are in the Big 10 (aka 10+6 more). Honestly, how can you cheer for a conference that can’t even count?

However, out of everyone and everything to dislike about the Big 10 (+6), one stands out above all the rest: Ohio State.

I apologize to my relatives who go/went there. I apologize to my dear friends (and students) with ties to Ohio. You are all very good people, but I cannot cheer for your school for sooooo many reasons. But we can save that for a later time.

One fact does stand out. An OSU fan told me that she cannot stand Ryan Day; but she loves Urban Meyer. Really? Urban Meyer is the second-best seller in Jerk Store history! (After Lane Kiffin, of course). The list of reasons to dislike Urban Meyer is way longer than the Ohio State list!

Okay, I kind of get it. Ryan Day is not a fave. But he did say something after this season’s win over Michigan. After the grief he took for not beating Michigan, he had every reason to point to the scoreboard and his National Championship trophy and say, “What now?”

Instead, he spoke for himself and his team: “We’re going to win with humility.”

Maybe OSU wins with humility. Maybe they don’t. Either way, the value of the coach’s verbal intent stands. Win with humility. In fact, this is a great time of year to work on doing everything with humility.

Isaiah 9:2-7 is a wildly popular Advent passage that is considered by many to be a direct prophecy of Jesus’ arrival. The people are struggling. Their world is turned inside out. Northern Israel is trampled and burning; and now, armies are hammering at the gate of southern Israel (Judah). People are ready for a savior, a Messiah, someone to protect them from the evil strangling and drowning the nation.

Take a look at the passage and the prediction of what this predicted Messiah will be. It makes sense. When we feel stressed and oppressed, we want the superhero to make everything right. Then we can cheer their name and know in our hearts that this MUST be God’s person.

Now, take a look at Luke’s version of Jesus’ arrival.

See the difference?

No, this is not denying that Jesus is Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, or Prince of Peace. But the Jesus that shows up is far different than the Jesus the prophet anticipated. Once again, this does not mean that Jesus is not going to make all things right in time.

It does mean that the pathway for doing so looks far different than what we expect, and miles away from the methods we want. Winning on our terms is vastly different than winning in Jesus’ name.

I talk often about the desire of many to have a Jesus that is some type of “warrior god” who rules with righteous rage and revenge. A Messiah who strikes down those we do not like and grants power for us to make others do what we think they should do. A champion of “Christic Manhood” and God-ordained and ordered patriarchal dominance.

Winning in a worldly way is not the sight we find at the manger.

Jesus arrives with an overwhelming display of humility (stable, feed trough, etc.). While walking the earth as Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, and Prince of Peace, He never raises a sword to Roman authorities. He rarely proclaims His greatness, other than to a select few. Even then these are more quiet confessions or a “heads up” to the disciples on what is happening.

The power of the Living God in Jesus Christ is not in the characteristics described in Isaiah. It is the presence of such elements in a Messiah who serves with overwhelming humility. God knows that we do not need a savior to do the work for us. We need a savior who can show us how to do the work.

The power of God is not found in proving other people wrong, crushing enemies, “othering” those who are not like you, or overpowering people that you do not deem to be as “Christian” as you. God has not granted us such power; and would not do so because we could not handle it.

True power in Jesus is found in humble discipleship, looking to find the Christ child in the midst of a chaotic world (some things never change, right?). It’s not about winning, certainly not about winning our way.

A pilgrimage to the manger calls to profoundly uncomfortable humility, showing love where we have anger and servitude for those we are tempted to judge. Jesus does not come in worldly, political, military, or monetary power.

He comes to show us how to employ a power that we uncomfortably acknowledge: the power to change lives through humble servanthood. Winning is great. But as Ryan Day reminds us, winning the right way still matters.

May we strive to do that as we wait to celebrate the Living Christ, born in a barn and laid in a feed trough.

Among our dearest friends for the last 25+ years are David and Laurie, members of the first church I served as full-time pastor. Distance, along with realities of life, keep us from connecting as much as we would like. But we always know that if things go bad or get tough, we can contact one another.

That first church was in a sparsely populated rural county in eastern North Carolina. Laurie was originally from a wide spot in the road of that county called “Old Trap.” That section of a farming/fishing/hunting community had the reputation for being a little rough. Long-time residents of Camden County shared tales of shady shenanigans that happened in Old Trap over the years.

Of course, I find great joy in teasing Laurie about this. She had been a cheerleader in high school, so I occasionally toss out a comment about “cheerleaders from Old Trap.” Which results in a justifiably dirty look and perhaps a punch in the arm.

Here’s the thing: I don’t know if any of those Old Trap stories are true. I wasn’t born and raised in Camden County. I never saw anything in that area but fields and grain silos and deer and black bears. How do we know they aren’t like fish stories or urban legends or barber/beauty shop gossip? Or worse yet, CHURCH gossip? Maybe these are tales that grew taller over the years when shared in those spaces.

Someone at some time probably said something like, “Nothing good ever came out of Old Trap!” Why? Because that is what we say when we assume certain things about certain people from certain places when we assume certain things that may or may not be factual.

For starters, the community has probably changed a good bit in the past 250 years. Second, I know that something good came from Old Trap because our friend Laurie came from Old Trap! If there is something wrong with her, then there must be something wrong with us for maintaining 25+ years of friendship.

A person is defined by who they are, not where they are from. And they are certainly not defined by our blanket statements and flawed assumptions about who they are because of where they are from.

This brings us to one of the most underrated and underappreciated interactions in the entire Bible, IMO. It is in John 1, where a soon-to-be disciple says something both hilarious and utterly human in response to Jesus.

45 Philip found Nathanael and told him, “We have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law, and about whom the prophets also wrote—Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.”

46 “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” Nathanael asked.

Nathanael’s response is typically and hilariously human. He blew off every single word as soon as he heard “Nazareth.” He almost missed Jesus because he assumed that no one important could come from a run-down, one-horse, good-for-nothing town.

And that is exactly the point.

The coming of Jesus into the world is not about triumph, trumpets, gold, ballrooms, military triumphs, or power plays against those who might be different from us. It is about a God who shows us that grace and goodness come not from the popular or powerful, but from places that we assume to be “less than” or “other.”

For the record, here is why we should never assume.

The hope of advent is not found in Nathanael’s apathy. It is found in Philip’s call to him: “Come and see.”

This is what the arrival of the living Christ calls us to do. Come and see, not sit and watch. Or keep your distance and assume.

One of the things that changes us is engagement with the other. The Gospel writer’s inclusion of this interaction is clearly no accident. Maybe we get to know someone from Nazareth or Old Trap or (insert town here) before assuming that “nothing good” can come from there.

Places with a “rep” have one undeniable common thread with us: people. Creations of God. People Jesus came for, just as much as us. Some we deem to be good, others bad. But the Christ child could show up in Old Trap or Detroit or Somalia or Afghanistan, because God loves the people there just as much as anyone else.

To say that a person is other is to say that Jesus did not come for them. If our focus is on the place of origin, race, gender, income level, attire, or religious upbringing, then our focus is far away from Jesus. And we have a long journey to be ready for the child in the manger.

Identifying God’s creation as “illegal” or “worthless” or “garbage” is siding with Nathanael. Unless someone like Philip comes along to beckon us, our assumptions might keep us from knowing the Christ child at all. We can hear about Him, talk about Him, sing about Him, and even pray to Him. But until we are willing to come and see the other as our brother, we cannot know Him.

Challenge: We all have reactions and make assumptions about the homeless in our communities. But how many of us know a homeless person?

Go and visit with an organization serving unhoused people. If you are in the Greenville, SC area, visit Triune Mercy Center on Sunday morning. Stay for the meal afterward and talk to people. Or connect with a group that serves immigrant communities. Or LGBTQ+ people. Don’t assume–go and see.

Speaking of assumptions…Laurie told me that she is NOT from Old Trap, but actually from Shiloh. Her father was from Old Trap. I stand corrected!

How in the world do you think you can improve on Advent?

What makes you qualified to take on this project?

This is a sampling of some questions people have asked over the years when I described this idea, particularly when I declared the intent to publish it in some form or fashion. Allow me to answer these questions in reverse order.

I’m not; I can’t; and I’m not sure. Does that make it all clear as mud for everyone???

As for my qualifications, rest assured that Harvard and Yale and Duke and Baylor are not knocking at my door to get my theological or biblical expertise. I am what some would call a “generalist” in academia or church life. This is a nice way of saying I am a “jack-of-all-trades” and “master-of-none.” I can do a little of everything without being an expert on anything.

Keep in mind that expertise is neither the goal nor the qualifier for this. Tracy and I are just two people who had a great conversation that led us to take a new look at a long-time tradition.

Advent is an old tradition that just found its footing in Baptist life in the last 50 years, at least in the south. Despite this recent discovery the tradition remains–well, very traditional. Even great traditions need changes, adjustments, re-thinking, and re-imagining. Tracy and I came to a point where we thought the tradition warranted a new set of lenses.

And that is what this is. It is not a replacement or improvement, but a challenge to re-think what was and is and is to come. We can learn a lot from taking a different look even if we choose to go back to the old lenses.

Yet a personal angle comes into play. Many of you who read this know me fairly well. I am big on ideas, but lacking in the discipline of follow through. I love to write. But every time I sit down to do it, someone says, “SQUIRREL!” and I am off in a different direction. Now that I made this a PUBLIC project, my feet are up against the fire to deliver.

All of these are thoughts. But here are the reasons, the purpose for taking on this task–beyond the fact that I have more time than ever this December.

On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, we ventured up to the mountains to get Christmas trees for ourselves and family. On this lovely ride, I declared something that might shock a few of you. I am, in many ways, an orthodox Christian in many ways.

Yes, I believe in the Virgin Birth that we celebrate at Christmas. I believe in the full humanity and divinity of Jesus. I believe in the Trinity–God in three persons. I believe in the physical death and resurrection of Jesus. And if you asked me how convinced I am of these, I would say 99.44% sure.

Tracy, on the other hand, has a different take. She has questions about some (maybe all?) of these. Her one non-negotiable is the overwhelming love of God that comes to us in Jesus Christ. This love of God is unquestioned and unparalleled, despite our struggles to understand or appreciate it.

Our pastor, Dr. John Roy of Pelham Rd. Baptist, summarizes this concept with one verse that also encompasses the purpose of what we are doing here:

Romans 8:38 For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Teachings in the church too quickly dissolve into “transactional Christianity.” If I do “X,” then God will love me. But if I do “Y,” God will hate me. And might send me to hell. I have to get to a point where I do A, B, and C all the time or God will not love me.

This is a lie. And the coming of Jesus Christ into the world is the grand proclamation that this lie has to give way to truth. Jesus does not come here to cut a “deal” with us. Jesus comes to declare the unconditional love of God.

We always use caution when picking one text out of 1700 pages in the English Bible to stake out a position. But the words of Romans 8 are extremely emphatic and unwavering: “...nor ANYTHING ELSE in ALL CREATION will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (NRSV)

No doubt we will all struggle with this passage. This means that the immigrant, the unhoused person, the prostitute, the con artist, and the criminal receive the love of God in the living Christ. It means the cruel, the hateful, the judgmental, the self-righteous, the transgender person, the arrogant, the gossip, the MAGA, and the liberal progressive are all recipients of this love. Like it or not, fair or unfair, unearned and undeserved.

This venture is one couple’s struggle to figure out how the love of God is with us, in spite of ourselves. And it is also a struggle to realize that the love of God is with the other, in spite of our tendency to view them as “other.”

In my traditional benediction for church services, I start by saying, “May now the grace, peace, and love…” Above all things, this is an effort to find a greater outpouring of grace, peace, and love–particularly for those that we push aside.

And for those that Jesus would approach first on His way to the Cross.