Faith and Obamacare

After the U. S. House of Representatives passed the President's health care bill Sunday night, my wife and I had a serious conversation about our future. Certain facts were clear and indisputable. We are growing older and approaching retirement age. Her employment is our only source of health insurance. My pastor's salary is not enough to pay for the health insurance required by the government under the new health bill. Given those circumstances, my wife observed, "I won't be able to retire." She's right. If she retires, we won't have insurance. If either one of us retire, we won't have enough income to live on. Social Security is flat busted broke. If we depend on the government to provide health care, it won't happen because:
(a.) Obamacare takes 500 billion dollars from Medicare in order to finance the new government-run health care. That deficit is shifted to the individual states - a burden they cannot possibly afford. Older citizens are going to have to do with less so that younger citizens can be covered.
(b.) Obamacare is noticeably geared toward younger people. They have a tax-paying future. My wife and I don't. We simply won't be a good investment of the government's time and money. The older we grow, the more we will be a liability to the system.
Add to this the fact that businesses - especially small ones - are going to be forced to hire more and more part-time workers as a way of coping with the outrageous expense of providing health insurance for full-time employees. That's sure to impact congregations, particularly small churches like our own.
So we are facing a future with less and less health care as we grow older combined with less income and ever-shrinking Social Security. What are we to do?
For starters we could trust the Lord. "God knows we have this situation," my wife said. "He always has." Yes, and there's no expiration date on the promise "Seek first the kingdom of God and all these things will be added to you." There is also another observation in the Psalms: "I have been young and now am old; yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his children begging bread."
I couldn't help thinking of one of my favorite people, George Muller of Bristol, England. It was Muller who founded orphanages, built schools, financed missionaries and pastored a church all by prayer and without a cent to his name. Penniless and yet he received from God everything he needed as if he owned every bank in Europe. Muller never claimed to have the gift of faith, but he did acknowledge using the faith he had better than most people.
There is a lesson here for us. Our health care and retirement - once the envy of the world - may be history as we know it. But God isn't. He is still good to His word, and His word tells us we can trust Him to provide when all human programs have utterly failed. I don't know what is going to become of our country, our health care or our lives as Belinda and I face retirement - if it ever comes. I just know that when we get to that point, God will be there. What a comfort.

Racism, Balance and the Current Administration

I met a very nice gentleman recently who, as it turned out, is quite liberal in his politics. He is a thunderously worshipful supporter of President Obama and the present administration. When I gave a more conservative point of view to him in writing, some people interpreted my remarks as an expression of racism and that is more than a little inaccurate. There aren't many preachers who can put "ordained in and pastored a black church" on their resume'. But I can. Many years later when our family served as home missionaries in Louisiana, we were the minority in a neighborhood that resembled the "rainbow coalition" on steroids. Our kids had no idea what the word "racism" meant. We never taught the meaning of the subject because we didn't need to. It would have been as useless as discussing various brands of poison. Why bring it up? It was no accident that our older daughter requested that two very dear friends - "Americans of African descent" - sing at her wedding.
So when someone takes my differences in politics as a latent form of racism I have reason to be upset. I do not have a problem with the President being an African-American. I do not have a problem with the President being an Anglo-African-American for that matter. I do have a problem with the President being the kind of political person he is regardless of his race.
But I do think the President's race is an issue and here's how. Barack Obama is a reflection of the particular liberal ideology in which he was educated and to which he has exposed himself over the years. How do I know? I had the same education a la Wright State University. It was there that I learned "black liberation" theories of history. That doctrine teaches a twisted form of racially cynical attitude combined with a superiority complex such as one finds in the rantings of Louis Farrenkahn or Jeremiah Wright. If the President buys into thinking of that kind, he will come across to the average American - of any race - as condescending, entitled, and not really one of us. An attitude like that will drive people away because we elected a president - we did not anoint a king. And the last thing we want in the White House is an insufferable snob. What this country needs is exactly what the Scripture demands of a leader: "to do justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with thy God."

The Difference Between Church and Facebook

I am rapidly becoming a Facebook junkie and I've discovered I have a lot of company. Pastors are popping up all over Facebook. It has become an alternative outlet for ministry, not to mention a great way to advertise books, cd's and - Duh! - blogs. What a natural and fun way to keep up with all kinds of people, especially celebrities we would not otherwise be able to meet, much less talk to.
People seem more inclined to talk with one another on Facebook than any other medium I've witnessed thus far. They are more open about themselves, more willing to reveal details and certainly more willing to talk to total strangers - not always a good thing.
From a pastor's point of view, this quality of openness on Facebook has had a fascinating consequence. I find that people are more willing to be themselves before the whole world on Facebook than they are willing to be before a handful of people in church. I suppose this quality has always been with us. Church is the one place where we really want to put out the best impression for general consumption. We tend to conduct ourselves according to what we think people expect of us. So when someone asks, "How do you do?" we wouldn't really tell him how we are doing, and we don't really expect someone to tell us. It's all a formality, you understand. Not that we are purposefully trying to be deceptive; we are just putting out our public selves for all to see, the same public self that most often goes on display at work or in class.
Facebook is another matter. For some reason, people take off the mask when they sit down to the keyboard. I've learned a lot more about people from watching them on Facebook than I ever learned about them in church. I learn their real likes and dislikes, their tastes in music, clothes, politics and the world in general. I learn their language - the kind they would not dare use in church. I learn who their real friends are, and who they are not; who they love, and who wishes they had someone to love, or to love them.
What fascinates me the most is that people who wouldn't tell a soul these things in church don't mind telling the whole world on the internet. Now, everybody knows. The pastor knows. God knows - not that He needed Facebook, anyway.
All this raises a question in my mind: Why would anyone be one way in the privacy of church and another way before the whole blooming world on Facebook? And as long as we're not keeping secrets, what's the point of behaving one way in church (where only a few people can read us) and another way on the internet, where everybody can see us?
Maybe the answer is just too obvious. After all, if the life I'm living on Facebook is not one I can live in church, why am I living it on Facebook in the first place? Maybe the answer is that I already know this. And maybe, just maybe, I know better but I don't want those people in church to find out. Maybe I can keep my "public" life propped up in church while my real life goes on in the rest of the world. And maybe the people in church won't find out. Maybe they don't read Facebook. Just maybe.

What's a Day Off?

I'm exhausted. I've arrived home at 8:15 p.m. after a day full of meetings and errands; shuttling my parents to various places, doing their shopping and watching after my dementia-laden dad. Of the dozen or so things I had on my "to do" list, I accomplished most, but not all. I'm just too tired. And today was my day off.
Many pastors have "days off" just like mine. We only work "one day a week," or so we're told. We should be fresh. We don't punch a time card. We have lots of time for an errand or two. Or three. Or a dozen.
Preachers have so much free time, so the legend goes, that they must be instructed in the proper use of it - some people think. I had a deacon once who interrupted my study time, smack in the middle of it, to - get this- instruct me on how to use my time in the study. To facilitate his "lesson" he brought along a dozen pages of photocopied sermons from John Gill on how Gill used his time. Oh yes, I'm sure Gill had the same kind of routine pastors have these days: the phone ringing, the computer developing a glitch, and deacons arriving to waste their time. Well, maybe he had the deacons.
The truth is that the average pastor spends so much time being the pastor and doing pastoral things that he has a hard time finding time to do family things. The average pastor spends about sixty hours a week on the job. That's sixty hours on top of whatever other job he may have if he happens to be bi-vocational. There is a never ending urge to do something else, and there is always something else to do.
There was actually a time when I had a day off. I used to take off Mondays back when I had a church large enough to afford me taking one day a week to tend to my family. That was before we were missionaries, before we were church planters, and before the deacon arrived to complain that I wasn't spending more time in the study.
No, I wasn't. And neither do most pastors. They have to get out of the study because "study" is only a part of the job. Staying in the seclusion of the pastor's office is the surest way to kill the church. There aren't enough prospects in the pastor's study; not enough lost people to witness to, not enough to invite to church; not enough people to pastor.
So the pastor may be out of the study, but he is never out of the job, not even on his "day off." That's why I'm typing out this post on my laptop at home. My wife urged me to buy it so I wouldn't have to travel back to office to work on all the things that have to be done. I'm still tired and now it's 10:15 p.m. on my day off. I still have not finished editing the article I am writing for Regular Baptist Press. It will have to wait until tomorrow along with work on the Sunday morning message that I meant to start today. The job never ends.

"See Me Now or See Me Later"

I have a part-time job as a support worker in a funeral home. Don't laugh. It's a good job for a pastor. As a matter of fact, I work with several pastors, men who, like me are looking for a way to save for future retirement. So I carry two sets of business cards, one for my church and another for the funeral home, and that has created some interesting (if odd) situations.
A few days ago, I was lurking about in the neighborhood, looking for an opportunity to invite someone to church, when I stopped in to see a friend in a local business. Larry is a sign maker in our town, a very good one who is responsible for creating our church sign and logo. I've been after Larry for the past three years to come to church without any success whatsoever. In spite of that, we have maintained a very good and relaxed friendship. I'd love to see Larry come to Christ.
When I showed up at his business door, I was surprised to see him busy at his desk. He noticed me and immediately waved to have me come in.
As I sat across from Larry at his desk, my mind raced for a way to invite him to church once more. Then, I thought of my business cards. "I have something to show you," I said as I placed two cards, one of each, on the desk. "Here are my business cards," I explained as Larry leaned forward for a better view. "One is for my church. The other is for the funeral home. You can see me now, or see me later."
The startled expression on Larry's face was priceless. He sat back for a moment to collect his thoughts, and replied, "I promise you, I will visit your church within two weeks. I can't come next Sunday - I'm already tied up - but I will be there the next Sunday. I promise."

Believe me, this is an approach I'm going to use again!

Then Larry gave back my business card for the funeral home. "I'll keep your church card," he said, "You can have this one." He seemed relieved just to have the funeral home card out of his hand. Imagine that. I don't know how many customers I will pick up for the funeral home, but if I can use their cards to motivate more people to church, I'll use them all the time with the same explanation: "You can see me now, or see me later."

So Why Are We Here?

Every church has to have a reason for its own existence. Yes, the Great Commission is the reason in terms of sharing the gospel and reaching the lost. But in a practical sense, church members need to understand why their particular church should exist. Many churches, especially small ones, struggle with this issue. They need a reason for being, and being there just for the sake of the denominational name is not enough. As a result, many small churches cannot and do not survive.
Our own church has had to come to terms with this question now that our roof has caved in. Things were tough enough without the roof falling. We've had all the aches, pains and struggles associated with planting and growing a church. What's more, there are always larger churches where it's easier, more convenient and a lot more attractive for people to attend. How could we ever hope to compete? This has caused some necessary and very useful soul searching. Like every other small church in the world, we have to find a way to meet the spiritual and practical needs of the public we are trying to reach. We need to find our place and establish our identity. When we do that, we will fill our niche. And we will grow.

What Do You Do When the Roof Falls?

Our roof fell in. Seriously. About three weeks ago, some of our people came to the church for the usual youth ministry when they discovered water dripping, running and pouring into our auditorium. Investigation revealed that two forty-eight foot rafters had snapped and caved under the weight of ice and water on our roof. For reasons known only to the Lord, water failed to run off our formerly flat, slightly angled roof and began to form a pond about twenty-five feet across and about two or more feet deep. When all that water froze, the roof could not stand up to the pressure. So it gave way, puncturing the upstairs ceiling and forever changing our majestic old building.

So what do we do now? Frankly, we don't know. We have insurance and we've had emergency repairs to keep the water out and the building up. But from this point going forward, again only the Lord knows. We have to make a lot of decisions with (hopefully) an understanding insurance company. But we are a small church - a recent church plant -and our resources are quite limited.

If you are interested in helping, knowing more about us, or praying for us I would like to hear from you. The first thing we have to do under the preacher's roof is to figure out a way to keep the roof up.

We will let you know how things develop.