Almost Too Late For Breakfast

I've had a few requests lately for this post. It's an old one that people have heard about and had a hard time finding, so I'm re-posting it for your convenience. I'm glad I made it for this breakfast.



I have a teenage daughter who is a thing of beauty. The oldest of my three children, she’s fifteen years old next week. I was changing diapers on this woman-child only a few weeks ago. She took her first steps and then started Kindergarten last week. Yesterday she was a middle-schooler with braces and here, today, she is a leggy, hippy, mascara-ed high-schooler . The great torment and mystery and wonder of being a dad is how quickly fifteen trips around the sun pass me by.



Today the Oldest Sister had the morning off from school. I knew about it last week so I cleared my calendar and made an appointment with her.



“Where do you want to go for breakfast?” I asked her.




“The New York Bagel!” she answered with no hesitation.




The New York Bagel is an institution in Southwest Houston. You can get two eggs, a bagel, and hash browns for $3.50 and you can watch the neighborhood Jews play their stereotypes. Joe, one of the owners, works the crowd while sassy waitresses in short-shorts work the coffee pots. His wet lips smile through his bushy beard as he charms you despite his Bronx accent. I was pleased that she chose it.




She didn’t pick the chain (IHOP), she didn’t pick the trendy (La’Madeleine’s). She picked the place with character and it made me proud. We both ordered the special, I had coffee and she had OJ. The conversation ebbed and flowed with an easy rhythm. I watched her baby blues flash with joy as a girl friend from her high school showed up with her dad. He and I exchanged the knowing glance of fathers courting the affections of teenage daughters, hoping to woo a few words of connection from them.




As the Oldest Sister and I ate I got a few of those precious words from her. We talked about a boyfriend, her school work, her dance team. We talked about a book she’s reading for geography class, and I told her about a David Sedaris book I just finished. We even talked about the meaning of orthodoxy when I told her about the book A Generous Orthodoxy that I’m reading now. She acted interested, in fact she might have really been so.




Though the conversation was uninteresting to most, it was more precious to me than all the praises that come to one who occupies the pulpit. She gave me the same smile I saw when I was changing her diapers, and for a precious three cups of coffee she was still my little girl.




Reflecting on the day I’m left with this thought: I have three and a half more trips around the sun before the Oldest Sister leaves the home and if they go as fast as the first fifteen, then I was almost too late for breakfast today.

I Love this Town

My friend Carl Boerger took this shot this morning at sunrise. Thanks, for sharing, dude!

Houston is hot most of the year and humid all of the year. The traffic is bad, and the city is not known for it's beauty. But there is much to love about Houston.

I remember leaving town the first year I lived here and my return flight afforded me a similar view of our skyline. I liked the glad feeling in my heart that said, "I'm home!" and I always thrill to see this sky line when I fly back in. After all, lots of people I love live here!

Some days I pine for my home in North Carolina and I suppose I always will. There are lots people I love there, too. Mostly I think the pining is nostalgia, that funny emotion that operates between truth and perception, tricking us to remember things better than they actually were. Billy Joel wrote, "The good old days weren't always good and tomorrow ain't as bad as it seems," and Thomas Wolfe said, "You can never go home." They are mostly right, I think.

Idealizing a person, place, time, or thing is the most treacherous game on the emotional playground, especially if you allow yourself to make decisions about real life with little basis in actual fact. Your old boyfriend/girlfriend was neither that great nor that horrible, your dead mother/father was neither saint nor psychopath, and your old elementary school is always, always, always smaller than you remember.

The old saying goes, "The grass is greener on the other side." I say the grass is greener were you water it, mow it, fertilize it, and weed it.

At least that's the way it works here in Houston.

When in Rome, Love

Does anyone remember The Promise Song by the band When in Rome? It's another of those "One Hit Wonders" but it's great - given a resurgence in popularity by its inclusion in the closing credits of Napoleon Dynamite.



My weekly column for church (Living Covenants, below) was on my mind and I thought about how fitting the lyrics are for a church. See if you agree

If you need a friend, don't look to a stranger,

You know in the end, I'll always be there.

And when you're in doubt, and when you're in danger,

Take a look all around, and I'll be there.

(chorus)

I'm sorry, but I'm just thinking of the right words to say. (I promise)

I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be. (I promise)

But if you wait around a while, I'll make you fall for me,

I promise, I promise you I will.

When your day is through, and so is your temper,

You know what to do, I'm gonna always be there.

Sometimes if I shout, it's not what's intended.

These words just come out, with no gripe to bear.

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and then it repeats the chorus a few times.

I long for a church where most of the relationships are reflective of what this song is saying. The Greek word is koinonia, the English word is fellowship. We Christians have reduced "fellowship" to a potluck meal in the fellowship hall, but there is more to it. Fellowship, to me, is loving each other the way Jesus loves us and I think I could make a pretty good Biblical case for my opinion.

The problem is, of course, that loving like Jesus is much harder than puttng on a meal. Glimpses of this kind of fellowship can be seen in my church, though, and it brings me joy. I wish I could tell you the stories, but to do so would break confidences. Suffice it to say that if you could get up on your tiptoes and peek through the window into God's kingdom work, you'd see God is still at work behind the scenes helping us love one another.

Now that's gospel.

Living Covenants

Not a Sermon - Just a Thought for January 26, 2007

In 1985 I was baptized into the family of Jonesboro Heights Baptist Church in Sanford, North Carolina. I remember lots about the church: The red carpet in the soaring sanctuary, the green paint in the basement fellowship hall, and the smell of Wednesday night potluck meals.

I had another memory, a fuzzy one, so I called my old church today to verify that, yes indeed, the church covenant hung on the wall in the sanctuary foyer. Hand painted letters on white wood, the full text of our promises greeted us each time we entered the sanctuary to worship.



The church’s covenant hung on the wall, but it lived in the people. The covenant came to life for me on camping trips with the RA’s. The covenant took on flesh as parents took turns as chaperones. I became a part of the covenant when I helped a widow by raking leaves with my youth group. The covenant shaped my calling when I got to preach my first sermon in that giant fortress of a pulpit at a Sunday night youth service in 1986. The covenant was birthed in me because other people were willing to make commitments, allowing Christ to shape and reshape their lives as they lived in community.



Today I serve as pastor of a covenantal church and I have a deeper understanding of my obligations to the community of faith than I did as a teenager. I appreciate my old church better in retrospect because I learned there that covenantal churches are able to:

• Build shelters from the storms of life,
• Build in us loyalties and allegiance to the Kingdom of God, and
• Build up their surroundings into better communities.

The gates of hell shall not prevail against a church where covenant keeping is the building block of faith and

I, for one, desire to live in such a community. How about you?

Meatloaf and Eschatology

It occurred to me today that Meatloaf is making an eschatological claim for all of us rock and rollers. In his Paradise by the Dash Board Light he sings, "Now I'm prayin' for the end of time."

If you don't know the song, take a good listen and get a good laugh. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0ns8t9iQck

For all you really conservative Christians, let me be clear. I am making a joke.

I've Got the Fever for Judge Judy and Ellen

I'm at home today, sick with a fever and head cold. I worked a little this morning and then turned on the mid-day news. I dozed, only to awake to Judge Judy being interviewed by Ellen Degeneres. I was left with a few questions:

• When did Ellen get a TV show? Perhaps the more relevant question is "WHY?" She's funny and I like her, but TV talk show host? It was too casual, too flippant, too full of her tangled-tongue mistakes. I don't mind that in a stand up routine, but I prefer my talk shows to be a little more professionally done.
• Where did that cult audience come from? They laughed at everything, even her baby-talk noises and dorky dance moves. The phone call to "Gladys" had no content except "how great Ellen is." Tomorrow's show promises to be a celebration of Ellen's 49th birthday. I like you, Ellen, you're really funny, but I barely send an email to dear friends on their special days. Honey, why must your show be about making you feel confident? Do you need to talk to a minister?
• Who the heck is Judge Judy? Turns out I've been more unplugged from pop-culture than I thought. The woman's show is the number one court room TV show on the toob and silly me, I didn't even know there was a competition. I thought the People's Court had filled all the programming slots for retired judges looking for a little TV time. I miss Rusty, the bailiff, but I must say Judy's better looking than Judge Wapner!

This isn't my jab at Judy or Ellen - girls, do your thing. It is a jab at America. I'm sure there are lots worse things to watch on television, but how uniteresting is your own life if you watch this stuff?

At least I had a fever.

If These Walls Could Talk

Not a Sermon - Just a Thought for January 19, 2007



This weekend marks 50 years since my church, Willow Meadows Baptist, dedicated the ground upon which our building stands. It is truly holy ground that has borne witness to life-changing decisions in the hearts of thousands over the years. As pastor, I’m frequently alone in the building and often last to leave at night. In the silence of this sacred space it’s easy to imagine the stories the bricks and stones tell each other when the building is empty of people. I wonder, what do they say?



Perhaps they remember the old names and faces. Maybe they talk about the laughter that has rung throughout the building as faithful Christians shared life together. I bet the organ pipes talk to the piano strings about the beautiful brides and handsome grooms who with hope-filled dreams began their married life in the sanctuary. The towering cross talks to the baptistery pool and names - one by one - the many that followed Jesus in the act of baptism. Even the pews remember the tears of the grieving widow or the repentant soul.



Yes, these 5.1 acres are holy ground, and we thank you God that you have seen fit to use this church.



When I’m last to leave I can almost sense the building breathing. Call me crazy, but I believe God inhabits this place. And I believe that late at night, when no one else is around to hear it, He says to the bricks and the stones and the steel, “Wait and see. Even as good as the past 50 years have been the best is yet to be.”



This Sunday we welcome our first permanent pastor, Dr. Ralph Langley, to the pulpit as he helps us celebrate fifty years of worship at 4300 West Bellfort. We’ll gather for Bible Study at 10:05 and worship at 11:10. You’d be welcome to join us, but please don’t tell anyone I told you the church building talks.

Carolina, Clemson, and Multigeneration Transmission

Murray Bowen, the pioneer of Family Systems Theory, could have predicted the outcome of tonight's UNC-Clemson game. Bear with me if you're not a sports fan.



Clemson University went into the game with their best shot of beating Carolina in years. They'd begun their season 17-0, matching their best start since Horace Grant wore the bright orange in 1986/87. They had the more experienced players. They certainly had a home court advantage with Littlejohn packed to the rafters.



But Carolina was a decidedly better team, silencing the crowd early on and their freshmen taking charge. They won 77-55 with the kind of authority of consistent winners. Say what you will about who's better, I say history played a part tonight.



Here's what I mean. Carolina has played the Clemson Tigers 137 times, counting tonight. They've won 118 times. Murray Bowen calls this multgenerational transmission.* He says that things are passed down from generation to generation. Things like behavioral traits, habits, lifestyles, professions, attitudes, dysfunctions, the list goes on ad naseum.



In other words, the Carolina family has learned to win over Clemson - decidedly and repeatedly. I guess you could say spanking the Tigers is in their blood.



*More information about Murray Bowen and Family Systems theory is easy to find at www.thebowencenter.org. If you're a church-type, I'd recommend the book Generation to Generation by Ed Friedman.

Boys and Men and Baseball

It was a Saturday from heaven.



The Younger Sister and the Brother had stayed up late on Friday night watching movies so they slept late, which meant I got to sleep late. The Oldest Sister was gone on a weekend trip with our church youth group and though we missed her, the house was quiet. Breakfast was Belgian waffles, sausage, and a tall glass of milk I’d put in the freezer about 15 minutes prior. The symphony in mouth was giving me a hint of how wonderful the day might be.



About noon the Brother and I headed down to the Rice University baseball field where we met Coach Hallmark for a batting and fielding lesson. With the Houston skyline for a backdrop I watched my son learn a four-seam throw and the fielder’s hop. We moved inside to the batting cage and for the next 45 minutes a spectacular coach connected with the Brother as they worked on batting basics.



His confidence increased as they worked on the fundamentals and you could see it on his face. He seemed to stand a little taller with every crack of the bat. His mouth took on that determined shape that borders on angry but his eyes were pure blue delight. But his joy was nothing compared to what he experienced later that day.



Like I said, it was a Saturday from heaven.



About 4pm we headed over to the Westbury Little League field for spring tryouts. It’s holy ground, a place where boys become men and men become boys again. The tryouts are the same every year, a liturgy performed by the kids, all in turn, for the royal priesthood of coaches. Catch three pop flies in left field, field three grounders at shortstop and throw to first, hit three pitches off of the pitching machine, and run the bases on the third pitch.



The fielding was first and the Brother completed each drill flawlessly. Next was hitting. He looked up at me in the bleachers and I cheered, yelling his name and giving him a big thumbs up. He stepped into the batter’s box and I could see his face no more. In the classic batter’s stance his lean body looked so much like a grown man that I had to blink to correct my brain’s obvious mistake.



He swung at the first pitch and missed. I now sat on my hands in the stands holding my breath and my tongue.



He connected on the second pitch and fouled it hard down the third base line.



He ripped it on the third pitch, sending the ball hard by second base and into the outfield. He ran hard around the bases, touching the inside of the bags with his right foot just-so. He had that same determined shape to his mouth and as he rounded third he looked up in the stands to find me. Our eyes met and I knew that he knew that I was proud. It would be easy to think of me as one of those baseball dads who are only proud when the son plays well, but read on.



When everything wrapped up he piled his gear in the car and hopped in the front seat beside me. He didn’t ask me what I thought about his tryout. He told me how he did. Not cocky, not arrogant, just plain and simple words. “I did really good on my batting.” Blue eyed delight.



I am proud because this boy gritted his teeth, dug in, and did something he’d been afraid to do during the last season. Most of all I am proud because he assessed himself, not looking to me or the coaches to tell him he was good. He looked inside and gave himself the grade. You see, this story isn’t about baseball; it’s about a nine year old learning to read his inner compass. Top that, Jack Sparrow!



Like I said, it was a Saturday from heaven.

Pick a Church, Any Church

Not a Sermon - Just a Thought

He called on me one morning as I was preparing a sermon, introducing himself on my parsonage doorstep. It was not uncommon in my country church for people to stop by unannounced needing to speak with a pastor. I poured us a cup of coffee to knock off the fall chill and we sat in my study, me not sure what to expect. He began by telling me he was looking for a new church to join; good news to an ambitious young pastor! I was new to my country church and any addition to the membership was sure to please our congregation.

I asked about his reasons for wanting a new church and I learned that he was coming from a church that I knew. The pastor was a friend of mine. In the distinctive Virginia Tidewater accent, he told me he’d “gotten sideways” with the pastor and thought it best to leave. I pressed him to find out if he’d spoken honestly with the pastor or any of the leaders of the church about the issue at hand, and admittedly, he had not.

Something came out of my mouth that surprised us both.

I told him I didn’t think it was good for him to leave his church and join mine without at least talking to his pastor. He got flustered and I could see his anger rising. Here I was, less than three minutes into the conversation with a man who wanted to join my church, and I was telling him he ought not to do that. As you would predict, the rest of the conversation went down hill.

I’d like to report the happy news that he went back to his old church, resolved things, and they all went forward happy. I later learned through the grapevine that he went to yet another church in the community and took all his emotional and spiritual baggage with him. He caused problems in his new church, and it leaves me thankful that God protected me and my church from his angst and anger.

I tell you this story because it illustrates a problem with many churches. I see a profound lack of spiritual and relational vitality in congregations where people come and go based on whims, worship style, or a charismatic pastor’s entrance/exit. Churches, when they live out their identity as the bride of Christ are people who make and keep promises to one another. Keeping promises is sometimes costly – like working out differences on hard issues – but living in covenant commitment we must sometimes pay the price without regard to circumstances.

It’s like an argument in a good marriage. Sometimes things get heated, sometimes there is a lot of yelling and angry silence. But in the end, the two partners stick together because the good things easily outnumber the disagreements. Church families ought to be the same way.

This Sunday at Willow Meadows Baptist Church we’re going to be talking about our promises to one another that are codified in our church covenant. I’m going to tell the story of Ruth, a woman in the Bible who made a difficult promise and kept it by unusual faith. For modern Christians living in communities of covenant, her story teaches us that we sometimes have to:

· Tolerate things that are difficult and frustrate us;
· Share a burden we don’t want to carry, and;
· Tell the truth to one another, even when it hurts.

We’ll worship at 9am and 11:10a.m. I hope you can join us if you’re in the Houston area this weekend!

More than Promises, Promises,
Pastor Gary

PS – Reference to the obscure 80’s band Naked Eyes comes free of charge. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9luwJyAXZM

Not a Sermon – Just a Thought is a weekly column written by Gary Long, pastor of Willow Meadows Baptist Church in Houston, Texas. You can learn more about this covenantal church at www.wmbc.org. You can be added or removed from this list by emailing me at glong@wmbc.org.

On the Last Day of Christmas

Today marks the last day of Christmastide. Tomorrow is Epiphany. I love it that no commercial entity has advertised a single sale in honor of the illumination - that I know of. This holiday belongs to those of us who see the Christ child for who he is.

I'm aware I'm exclusivist. That's fine by me because Epiphany is nearly the only holy thing left about Christmas in today's American culture.

Tomorrow the magi will be placed in the creche at Willow Meadows Baptist Church. As I pray and prepare for tomorrow's worship gatherings I have a single song line stuck in my head:

Arise, your light has come.

May I seek as the magi sought.

Before Promise Keepers

Not a Sermon - Just a Thought, January 5, 2007



Promise Keepers has the goal of teaching men how to honor their commitments as husbands and fathers. Candidly, I am perplexed as to why a para-church organization is needed to teach men what the local church already knows? Hey, even the rock band Journey exhibits an understanding of this in their great song Faithfully. All kidding aside, I do worry that the covenantal nature of churches is in decline if Christian men have to look elsewhere to figure out how to keep their promises.



When a church is covenantal in nature, all of its members should be learning how to make – and keep – promises. Churches are not like a club where there are membership dues and relationships of convenience, but they are groups of people who are together trying their best to understand and follow Jesus’ teachings. They are spiritual families who are committed to helping each other through hard times. They are spiritual families who value people not based on their money, good looks, or big brains. Instead, a covenantal church is a family, who stands out as a beacon of hope in a “disposable” culture each time they act as if every person is valued as a child of God.



In the words of one my long time church members, “My church is my family. Good, bad, and ugly.”



This Sunday we’ll take a close look at our church covenant as we build toward our Covenant Celebration service on January 28. We’ll pay close attention to God’s covenant with Abraham in Genesis 15. We’ll also look at the role of Jesus in bringing us a new covenant in Hebrews 8 in a sermon entitled “The Character of Covenant.” I’m hoping to convince you that being in a covenant relationship with other Christians is a good thing and that a covenant to a church calls us to:

• Exhibit faithfulness to God and one another,
• Submit to a “bonded-ness” to one another, and
• Live a sacrificial lifestyle in community.
  
  
  

In the words of Steve Perry, I remain,
Forever yours, faithfully,
Pastor Gary



Not a Sermon – Just a Thought is a weekly column written by Gary Long. To subscribe or unsubscribe to this column, email me at glong@wmbc.org, at which time I’ll quickly and courteously add or delete your name!

Here is the scripture I'm referring to:

Genesis 15.1-6

God's Covenant With Abram
1 After this, the word of the LORD came to Abram in a vision:
"Do not be afraid, Abram.
I am your shield,
your very great reward."

2 But Abram said, "O Sovereign LORD, what can you give me since I remain childless and the one who will inherit my estate is Eliezer of Damascus?" 3 And Abram said, "You have given me no children; so a servant in my household will be my heir."

4 Then the word of the LORD came to him: "This man will not be your heir, but a son coming from your own body will be your heir." 5 He took him outside and said, "Look up at the heavens and count the stars—if indeed you can count them." Then he said to him, "So shall your offspring be."

6 Abram believed the LORD, and he credited it to him as righteousness.

Hebrews 8.6-13

6But the ministry Jesus has received is as superior to theirs as the covenant of which he is mediator is superior to the old one, and it is founded on better promises.

7For if there had been nothing wrong with that first covenant, no place would have been sought for another. 8But God found fault with the people and said:
"The time is coming, declares the Lord,
when I will make a new covenant
with the house of Israel
and with the house of Judah.
9It will not be like the covenant
I made with their forefathers
when I took them by the hand
to lead them out of Egypt,
because they did not remain faithful to my covenant,
and I turned away from them, declares the Lord.
10This is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel
after that time, declares the Lord.
I will put my laws in their minds
and write them on their hearts.
I will be their God,
and they will be my people.
11No longer will a man teach his neighbor,
or a man his brother, saying, 'Know the Lord,'
because they will all know me,
from the least of them to the greatest.
12For I will forgive their wickedness
and will remember their sins no more."

13By calling this covenant "new," he has made the first one obsolete; and what is obsolete and aging will soon disappear.



Covenant of Willow Meadows Baptist Church, Adopted April, 2006



I promise to make my relationship with God through Christ the first priority in my life. I will seek to “love God with all my heart, mind, soul, and strength, and to love my neighbor as myself.”



I promise to discover what it means for me to be a disciple of Jesus Christ. I will engage in practices that will help me grow as a Christian. I will discover and use my spiritual gifts to find a place of service where I can offer Christ’s love to others through worship, ministry, discipleship, and fellowship. I promise to support the church financially in order for Christ’s mission to be fulfilled.



We promise each other before God that we will do these things together as a part of the body of Christ; we will be supportive of others, seeking reconciliation when needed, and will help others to experience their full potential in Christ. Together we will seek God's direction for our church and be open to His Leading.



Having confessed our sins, asked forgiveness, and received the Lord Jesus Christ as our Savior, we now enter into covenant with one another in this body of Christ. We want to be an other-directed, covenantal community of faith that dares to aid God in transforming Southwest Houston into a place more like the Kingdom of God. May it be so by God’s grace and to God’s glory. In Christ’s name, amen.