The Enemy Within

Since September 11, 2001, we regularly hear about threats from “outsiders” who want to infiltrate and damage the nation. The biggest threat to a people is the rot that happens from the inside-out.

It seems to me that becoming a Master of the Twitter-verse takes a lot more time, effort, and energy than I am willing to devote. Or waste. Those of you who follow me on Twitter may not believe that, but I put less energy into it than you think.

Despite my lack of Twitter prowess, once in a blue moon I tweet something that strikes a chord with my dozen or so followers. Perhaps it hits a few people beyond that. A couple weekends ago was one of those occasions.

Pete Buttigieg is a former mayor of South Bend, Indiana and Democrat candidate for president in 2020. South Carolina congressman James Clyburn essentially put an end to his and all other bids by endorsing Joe Biden. But as an extremely young candidate, Buttigieg surely has political ambitions for the future.

He tweeted a question that at one time served as the calling card for President Ronald Reagan. “Aren’t you better off than you were four years ago?” One of my followers replied that it is much more important to ask if our neighbor is better off than four years ago. I re-tweeted this, with some commentary.

By my rather humble standards, this got a lot of “likes” and retweets. Sadly, not nearly enough people buy into the neighborly philosophy. We forget the foundational ideals of loving our neighbor.

Since September 11, 2001, we have heard ongoing messages about how we need to fear enemies who are outside of this nation. We have lumped Muslims, secularists, immigrants, and generally anyone who does not look like or think like the stereotypical American into this “outsider” category.

Yet, we see a nation that seems more divided than ever and a church that feels powerless to speak into the void of leadership and humanity. Followers of Christ are picking sides, and churches struggle more and more to remain politically neutral, not to mention morally relevant.

This struggle is internal. Outsiders did not do this to us. We did it to ourselves.

The biggest threat to the United States may be the enemy in our own hearts, homes, schools, towns, and places of worship. This is certainly the biggest threat to the American church, and it is slowly eating away at the church’s ability to have a moral compass. Much less provide moral guidance.

If we look at the people of the Old Testament and the church of the New Testament, we find out that the biggest threat to a nation or congregation never came from the outside. The internal rot in the hearts of communities causes the mayhem and weeping, if not the outright destruction.

One of the two greatest commandments cited by Jesus is, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Why is this becoming a greater struggle for us? We have either forgotten the essence of this command or we have lost the internal will to follow it. Or maybe both. Or maybe we are just choosing to disregard it.

All of these options are bewildering and potentially devastating. I do not offer this assessment with any hint of righteousness. The self-proclaimed World’s Worst Pastor is as guilty as anyone, and some days are worse than others.

In the Age of Trump, of Progressivism, of protest, of counterprotest, and of rampant “Cancel Culture” that exist across all realms of politics, religion and culture—how can we recapture a commitment to love of neighbor over self?

While I have many opinions (never a shortage of those in our house), I will not venture into the world of systemic or political changes that need to happen. Those are better left for more qualified experts. I will offer a few suggestions, with more to come as we venture forward in this fresh chaos called 2020.

One place to begin is to stop identifying our neighbor with every aspect of everything that he or she supports in some way.

This is certainly a challenge in an era where we tend to decorate our houses, our cars, or ourselves in the garb of our political allegiances. I am not apologetic for saying that some of the devotion to Donald Trump seems disturbing and dangerous.

However, not every person who voted (or will vote) for Donald Trump supports every aspect of Trump’s policies or actions. In the same way, not every person who says Black Lives Matter supports rioting or violence. They do not support every person or every aspect of the movement. It is high time that we acknowledge this among our neighbors.

As an example, I am unapologetically a follower of Christ and believe in the vitality of discipleship in Christ as an essential aspect of humanity. This does not mean I support every idea, theory, concept, or theological position of others who call themselves Christian. It does not mean that I agree with every aspect of those who equate “true” Christianity with following—or opposing—Donald Trump.

When this election is over, we are going to have to find some pathway towards living together in the extreme divisiveness that of this present world. This gets much tougher if we focus on the extremes. If we can recognize the validity of humanity beyond the extremes in ideology, then we have a much greater opportunity to find pathways towards the future.

Forging such pathways is not going to be easy, no matter what political circumstances engulf us after November 3, 2020. To develop some level of understanding, empathy, and humanity, I turn to one thing that seems to bring us together for the common good: Service. Not to politicians or so-called “leaders,” but to others.

In my work and study, the one common denominator that creates empathy and understanding is a commitment to love our neighbor by serving our neighbor. This is unquestionably a command of Jesus Christ, and it is the one thing that seems to create understanding among the servants and the served.

No matter who the president or the pastor or the political commentator is, we cannot avoid the call of God to serve our neighbor above ourselves. By focusing on that call, we gain an empathetic understanding of the “other” that is noticeably absent in videos and news reports.

By serving together for a common good, we learn more about those that we serve and about one another. We learn about the struggles of those who do not look like us or live like us. Most important, we learn about the love of Christ that looks at others as equal to us.

When the Pharisee/lawyer is confronted with Jesus’ command to “Love your neighbor as yourself,” he replies with a question. “And who is my neighbor?”

It is really a smart-aleck question. He knows damn well who his neighbor is, but he is hoping that Christ will say something to get him off the hook. Jesus does the opposite by putting him ON the hook to love people the Pharisee was taught to despise.

No matter where we stand on November 4, the command to “Love your neighbor” is not going away. By recognizing that there is more to our neighbor than political or social opinions, maybe we can forge a pathway for Christ rather than violent political rhetoric and racial slurs.

Perhaps then we can spend more time serving others and less time on social media. We might be stunned at what we learn if we put down our phones and work together to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, educate the children, and understand the other. It certainly seems that is what Jesus would call on us to do.

May we learn to go and do likewise—with all of our neighbors, in all corners of the globe.

Stop Calling them “Teachers”

For many reasons, the word “teacher” is no longer adequate compared to the tasks these professionals undertake. It is time to honor them for who truly are and what they really do.

The hot-button issue across the state of South Carolina right now is the re-opening of public schools. I do not envy anyone at any level–from superintendents to bus drivers–who is involved in this situation.

Some states are working closely with their education professionals and health experts on how to do this. Such is not the case in South Carolina, where politicians are making declarative judgments and expecting the experts to just go along.

And these judgments are revealing the true colors of our political “leadership.”

SC governor Henry McMaster is holding true to one of his convictions by not issuing an executive order on going back to school (not yet at least). But he did hold a press conference to line up a hardcore argument for why South Carolina schools should open for full service, five days a week.

Noticeably absent from this event was Secretary of Education Molly Spearman. This article might explain why.

The Governor and his crack team of lawyers and professional politicians (not educators or health experts) had quite a bit to say about teachers, as well as local administration and school boards. They implied that they are responsible for the failures of online schooling and the difficulties in connecting to students through the pandemic.

The entourage then lined up to imply that teachers are shirking responsibility if they do not go back to school five days a week. As one legislator stated, “They signed up for this.”

Apparently, you do not just “sign up” to teach in South Carolina. You sign up to be the salvation of the entirety of civilization for our fair state.

It is not an exaggeration that this group at the press conference held up teachers as accountable and responsible for taking care of all the malnourished and abused children in the public school system. They are accountable and responsible for their physical, mental, and emotional health.

They are accountable and responsible to account for the presence and participation of every child in the state. They are accountable and responsible for ending cycles of abuse of children and families.

It’s funny how none of these points make it to the press conferences for the Governor and his cronies when schools need more funding, more equipment, more resources, or fair enough pay to hire necessary teachers (much less support staff).

People are more than happy to jump on this political bandwagon of dismissing public education. Until now, of course, when we suddenly and desperately “need it” so much.

In spite of this blatant and obvious disrespect, I actually (everyone clutch your pearls or grab onto something) agree with Henry McMaster and his crew.

Public schools are vitally important for the total welfare of all humanity. But I would add in one critical part that these people carefully left out.

It’s time to start acting like public education matters—ALL the time, even after it stops being politically convenient.

Let us start by no longer calling them “teachers.” That should be a term of respect, but too many people have allowed it to be dragged through the mud for no good reason.

Let us start calling them what they are: Educators. Better yet, they are Professional Educators.

If we want them to risk their health and their lives and the well-being of their families to solve all the problems of society that McMaster and some legislators continue to ignore, then we can at least acknowledge them with full respect.

(A raise and more funding would be preferable, but maybe we can work our way up?)

For decades, South Carolina has neglected the needs of underserved people and communities. They have ignored racial injustice, affordable housing, generational poverty, food security, the onslaught of child/domestic abuse, and the difficulty in paying educators competitive wages.

The state has dumped millions into online education programs over the last 10 years. McMaster inadvertently admitted at his press conference that this had nothing to do with fair and equitable education. If we knew that poor, underserved, rural communities did not benefit from this because they do not have broadband internet access, then why did we invest those millions? Perhaps to benefit those vocal enough to insist on the privilege?

Now, the Governor is all but demanding that professional educators continue cleaning up the messes he and others have ignored. This is not new. Educators have done this for years. As usual, most of these educators will do exactly that—because they know what it means to care more about the children than their own self-interest. Or their political future.

How is McMaster responding to the long-term fallout of wasted dollars, lack of funding, and total absence of respect for the vitality of public education? He is attempting to shuffle $32 million to private schools (67% of CARES Act funds), while dismissing anyone who disagrees with his approach.

The least we can do is be clear about who these true leaders are. Professional educators do not merely teach curriculum from a textbook. They educate the rest of us about the issues of society because they are always the first to step up in an effort to address them.

Without educators, not only will our children suffer, but we will also have a profound lack of awareness. Goodness knows that is the last thing we need.

A simple name change is certainly not sufficient. Professional Educators are much more valuable than simply a more appropriate title. But perhaps this small step of respect will make us more aware of how critical public education is, and how much we truly need it.

The next step is to VOTE. That includes voting out those who only care about Professional Educators when it suits their purpose. And voting in those who want to make a full investment in our children, their schools, and those who educate them (and us).

The state of the State depends on it.

Revisiting My Interrupted Reverent Moment

Some folks have questioned why I am so vocal about current events, particularly regarding diversity, equity, and justice. In response to this, I return to my faith in Christ as the ultimate arbiter of justice–not after our death, but in our present life.

This is a post from almost seven years ago might give some insight into why this is so important. If we are not making room for everyone at the Lord’s Table–in spite of how we want things to be–then we are in danger of missing the point.

Sunday, October 6, 2013. A date which will live in infamy…at least at Augusta Heights.

Needless to say, it was not a day that went according to plan. Let’s put it this way: When the pastor has to be at the door of Radio Shack at 10 a.m. to get a part for the sound system, it’s not exactly a “silky smooth” Sunday.

In spite of it all, we managed to get the service going. And with the help of some great worship leaders (and lots of prayer) we found ourselves with the exact atmosphere needed for reverent celebration of the Lord’s Supper.

While the first Sunday in October is a regular communion Sunday for us, we also joined other Christians in celebrating World Communion Sunday. We had a really reverent moment going on that day. Even as the deacons and I fumbled around with the communion plates and who was going where to serve whom (a common phenomena for us), you could sense a real peace and worshipful atmosphere.

Then, it happened. Just as I was serving the bread to the deacons, it happened.

“Hey Rev!”

I knew the voice well. Eric is a great guy, and is the last person I expected to interrupt a quiet point in the service. But here was, calling out–loudly–to break that wonderfully reverent moment. After surviving the carnage and chaos, we had arrived. We set the mood. We focused ourselves on worship. I was really starting to enjoy the moment. And then…Eric happened.

I tried to ignore it. That was an epic fail. “Hey…REV!”

With no other choice, I turned my head to let Eric know I heard him. “Rev, Mr. Larry didn’t get no bread back here!”

I had no clue what to do. Can’t pretend it didn’t happen, because Eric wasn’t going to let it go. Larry told me to go on, but now everyone in the room knew that he didn’t get bread. Could I possibly ignore him?

I took the only possible route. I walked back with a tray to make sure Larry had some bread. I did it. I served him. But I did it with exactly the wrong attitude.

It wasn’t that I minded serving, and I certainly didn’t want to leave anyone sitting at a distance from the Lord’s Table. But it broke the mood, ruined the reverence. It totally disrupted the worship after we had overcome so much just to get there.

I wasn’t much good in worship after that. I tried to lead with some semblance of composure, attempted to preach as if I might know what I was doing. But it was a pretty weak effort on my part.

As we were riding home, I tried to reflect on what went wrong that day and what I might do better to insure that it would never happen again. As in, ever…at least not on MY watch! We would not let chaos break our reverence.

Later that night on Facebook, as I was still stewing a bit, I noticed some banter about the morning’s service. Someone posted:

Great morning…thank God for Eric. Those words…”Rev, Larry didn’t get it.” We could write a book about all the beauty in that moment of time.

And in that one sentence, my high-minded self-righteous self-important arrogance came mercifully crashing back to earth.

I—and more than a few others—longed to be captivated by our reverent moment, so much so that we missed it. I wanted my silence, my peace, my reverence so much that I just flat-out missed it.

Most of us would’ve just let Larry sit there with no bread. Few of us would have interrupted the entire service. But not Eric—and his willingness to speak gave us the most incredible witness to the grace of Jesus Christ that happened all day long.

Without even realizing it, he was completely faithful to the meal, to the day, and to the spirit of worship that I was flailing around trying to create. On World Communion Sunday, where all are encouraged to pull up a chair to the table, he made sure that someone wasn’t left out.

Just when we think that we have things the way we want them and have our plans in motion, Jesus steps in to break the silence and disrupt what we want to show us moments of incredible grace. Jesus reminds us that the bread and the cup are not about us, but about Him.

As we try to execute our grand plans for what church is supposed to be, Jesus can still make His presence known by telling us what church is. And it’s not about us, or what we want, or what we think. It’s about making sure that everyone gets the bread. It’s about sharing God’s grace, even if we have to drop our self-centered worship bear witness to that grace.

The grace of Jesus Christ comes to us to make us profoundly uncomfortable. By definition, it disturbs our little world as the Spirit grows us into a place where we see grace in action, and hopefully put that grace in action ourselves—even in the middle of our reverent moments.  And our sense of reverence and order should never be an excuse for pushing down a profound act of grace. (See Luke 18:15-17).

So yes, thank God for Eric. Thank God that Jesus, through the power of the Spirit, disrupts our world with the most unexpected examples of living Grace. Thank God for those who are less worried about how the table is set, than they are about moving the plates and rearranging the chairs to make sure everyone has a place at the table.

We sit at a point in history when Christianity stares into the mirror of a harsh reality. Too many people are denied a seat at the table. Some were offered a seat at the “Kiddie Table,” or maybe are invited to have a seat close to the table. 

This is not enough. We are called to move over, scrunch together, or even pull our own chairs out of the way in order to make plenty of room for everyone. 

It is going to disrupt the comfort of the Lord’s Table for this to happen. But the Lord’s Table was never created for our comfort. If we make the Table what the Lord intended from the start, it will always challenge us to go well beyond our present level of comfort.

May we become more concerned about making room at the Table than we are in maintaining our comfortable, reverent space.


We Cannot Erase Our History

In these “challenging times” (a phrase I now loathe), it is absolutely essential that we not destroy the truth of the history of the south or our nation. But how much of that history are we actually teaching?

Here we sit, just one day after the five-year anniversary of the Mother Emanuel church murders. And one day away from a celebration that was never mentioned in my house, school, church, or family. It is the celebration of Juneteenth, commemorating the Emancipation Proclamation finally coming to Texas on the 19th of June, 1865.

It is my good fortune to know the women’s basketball coach at Furman University, Jackie Smith Carson. She posted a tweet last week asking how many of us learned about Juneteenth in school?

It is an honest question. Coach Carson never heard it in school but learned it at home. I never heard of it anywhere until about four years ago.

I wonder why that is?

As we continue to grapple with the issue of Confederate flags and monuments across the United States, Coach’s question might provide some guidance on how we can proceed. And it brings to mind intense questions on how we teach children to navigate history.

There are some standard rallying cries against the changing of building names, the toppling of statues, and the banning of the “stars and bars.” It is almost always some variation of “You cannot erase history!”

“My family fought for the south!”

“We have to remember our past!”

Well, yes, all of those things may be true. But is Juneteenth not also a part of that history? Is it not true that many Americans received their first hint of freedom from at least one aspect of slavery on that day in 1865, when the last holdout state of Texas got the word?

Yet we do not seem to be as concerned about that as we are about a statue of the founder of the KKK. Or the preservation of a placard in Greenville declaring the south was right.

In the interest of full disclosure, I join others in my concern about erasing or ignoring history. We need to know our history, teach our history, and learn from our history.

All of it.

Preserving a group of statues to men who engaged in armed insurrection against the United States is not the tool for true history. In fact, it may be the tool to whitewash a ton of history’s harsh realities. The South Carolina legislature has institutionalized the protection of Confederate memorials and organizations are forced to petition for exceptions to make changes

Let us begin by noting that we can learn history without honoring all aspects of that history. A monument honors history, often without educating people about its realities. Saying that you want to take down a statue or change the name of the building may indicate that you care about the TRUTH of history, rather than honoring it.

Both sides of my family fought for the south in the Civil War. One side of my family owned a significant number of slaves and built their large homestead in North Carolina with slave labor. I am related (by marriage) to John C. Calhoun. My family was extremely close friends with General Wade Hampton III. It is essential to know that family history, but it does not mean that I have to celebrate it.

A full understanding of history only happens when we agree to engage the full scope and reality of the past. By maintaining monuments while neglecting the classroom, we fail to even remotely recognize that scope and reality. This nation invested 155 years into preserving the mythology of valiant Southerners dying for states’ rights

It is time for the nation to grapple with the whole truth. This is not going to happen by maintaining our monuments. Better yet, we can teach a history curriculum that includes Juneteenth and a host of other relevant facts that we have long ignored. (FYI, these initial ideas are particular to South Carolina).

How many of us learned about the Orangeburg Massacre in SC history?

Or Septima Poinsette Clark?

Or the placing of the Confederate flag on top of the statehouse in 1963?

Or the lynching of Willie Earle?

Or the Hamburg Massacre, and the subsequent Ellenton riot?

Or the brutality of Benjamin Tillman and John C. Calhoun?

How many of us heard about Joseph Hayne Rainey or Robert Smalls?

It is almost assured that most of us never heard a word about Juneteenth, if we could not even cover the people and issues that seriously impacted the story of our own state.

And finally, I would bet every dime I have (few as they may be) that no one ever teaches about Thomas Dixon and how his fraudulent story of The Clansmen precipitated the myths of dangerous black men—a mythology that contributed to the creation of hundreds of Confederate monuments.

The reality that some do not want to acknowledge is this: Confederate monuments preserve a false reality rather than actual history. Because the real history is too ugly for us to take and too many do not want to face it.

Nevertheless, if we want to take a real look in the mirror and begin to heal the wounds of our past, we need to teach the full scope of history before we decide how we honor those who are a part of it.

Yes, we cannot erase our history. But we can certainly stop limiting it to the sections that fit our narrative, and start telling the whole of history. After we begin to do that, the “debate” over Confederate monuments should take care of itself.

Changing monuments and the history curriculum are small steps in a very long journey. They will not end the systemic racism in our society or the absence of good in the hearts of those who continue to perpetuate myths and stereotypes.

But these steps are still important. Perhaps it will empower a new generation of students who know the truth—the whole truth—about their history to not be doomed to repeating the mistakes of a racist past.

Some Suggestions? 

How can we ensure that our children are receiving a more complete education into the history of ALL citizens of this country. Here are a few ideas–and I would request that you feel free to comment and add others!

Request Copies of Curriculum Requirements: I have asked for such documents for my particular school district, and am looking into the expectations for teaching history.

-Educate yourself–and your family: Keep in mind that teachers are not always given time to cover everything, even things they want to teach! Do your own reading and research, and talk to your family about what you learn.

-Talk with your child’s teacher: Ask if they plan to cover some of these issues; and perhaps ask how you can help.

More ideas–particularly from educators? I welcome your comments!

The Bible Isn’t a Prop (But That’s How We Use It)

Some cheered and some took offense to the President’s picture in front of St. John’s Church, holding a closed Bible. It may be that we all need to stop in front of an opened Bible for a little while.

Pastors LOVE to talk.

In case you have not noticed this.

This is our task, our calling. Even an introverted pastor (and there are some) has to figure out a way to effectively do this. Primarily, we are tasked with talking about the Bible, challenging people to go in-depth in their study and understanding of a text that we view as holy and sacred.

To a large extent, we have failed. The evidence may be a photo in front of St. John’s Church in Washington, D.C.

Forget about the wealth of debatable issues surrounding the events that led the President of the United States across the street from his house. Forget the tear gas “debate,” the picture, the motives for the photo, etc. Let’s talk about the response to the photo.

A number of ministers, including those affiliated with St. John’s, took great offense at the creation of this photo opportunity. The response of many ministers was to say that “The Bible is not a prop!” I can completely understand the frustration and the sentiment.

But they are wrong. The Bible is a prop, in far too many places and contexts where it is not supposed to be.

This does not justify anything that happened around the picture of the President in front of the church. It does mean that our response—be it outrage or adoration—to the President’s actions are not justified.

Donald Trump just did what preachers and pastors and those who listen to them do far too often. We treat the Bible as something that it is not, as something that God never intended it to be.

Witnesses in court rooms for years put their hand on a Bible and swear to tell the truth. The prop is apparently designed to keep people from lying because God may strike them down if they take this oath. Yet, we fail to ask them if they actually believe any of the words of the Bible. Not to mention that this oath never really addresses what Jesus says about the subject in Matthew 5.

After making this pledge on this holy book, some witnesses lie, manipulate, deceive, dodge, duck, dip, and dive. Who can blame them, when they see so many others in the courtroom, including those with authority, doing the same thing to varying degrees?

Many of us have a family Bible or other Bibles on display in our homes, maybe even at our places of business. How often do we open those Bibles and let ourselves ponder what the words mean?

Christians have raged for years about how God and the Bible are “removed” from our schools, not allowed inside the walls. As a youth minister, I heard parents rant and watched them post memes about this very topic. Yet the majority of the students in my group never brought a Bible to church. Many did not even know where their Bible was, which probably made reading it quite a challenge.

Some pastors love to hold the Bible in the air and declare it as the “inherent, infallible Word of God” as congregants nod their approval. But declarations about the Bible do not equal understanding of it. Besides, how can we know if the pastor is preaching the Bible when we never crack the spine of one, or at least visit on occasion?

We love to pick certain verses to prove to others what is morally right or wrong, without looking at the context of these passages. Sometimes these beliefs just echo what we heard in church some Sunday or from our parents/grandparents, and we have no idea if they are truly in the Bible.

I encounter Christians who love to declare what the Bible “clearly states.” It is interesting that the Bible never “clearly states” anything that is contrary to what they already think or were taught for most of their life. Furthermore, some of these folks offer little love or Christ-like charity to those who do not agree with their view of the Bible’s clarity.

How often do we truly struggle with the text, letting the meaning and purpose guide us beyond our preconceived ideas or traditional interpretation? What might become of us if we took on the scriptures that we do not like, or that challenge us to real change, or that totally blow up our religious training and world view? Heaven forbid!

Many Christians hold the Bible up as something to be followed, rather than letting the Bible point us to the Christ that we are supposed to follow and emulate in everything that we say and do. We come dangerously close to making the Bible an idol, something to be seen and discussed but never truly heard.

Worse yet, some people use the Bible as a weapon instead of a prop. They use it to bash the heads of those who disagree with them, or pick verses that cut into the heart of another person.

Perhaps President Trump simply did what he has seen many of us do on a daily basis, whether we want to admit it or not. He just did it right out in the open, where we might try to hide it.

As offensive as his action was—and to me, it was horribly offensive—we are no less guilty of holding up Bibles to show our commitment, rather than opening our hearts and minds to what the Scripture says.

It is time for us to acknowledge the command of Christ that is in the Bible to care for the poor and tend the prisoner and clean the wounds of the hurting.

It is time to hear the Word of the Lord that we are to love our neighbor as ourselves and sacrifice our comfort for the well-being of others (a task at which I fail on a regular basis).

It is time to live the scripture that God IS love, and we prove that most effectively when we love others.

It is time to read how Jesus sees, feels, and empowers the pain of those who are hurting and suffering in so many ways.

It is time for us to end our “Whataboutisms” and stop pointing to other people. Instead of saying “What about him?,” we can start answering Jesus when He tells us to follow.

It is time for us to decide, “Who do you say that I am?”

It is time to recognize that Jesus is not our ticket to heaven. Jesus is here for us to bring the Kingdom of God in the here and now. That means standing for equity, justice, mercy, and humanity for all people in the here and now.

It is time to stop worshipping the Jesus that we think is in the Bible, and discover the hard, challenging path of the Living Christ that is actually in the Bible.

I have scripture references for every one of the above points. Feel free to search for some yourself, or feel free to contact me if you would like to know what they are.

We should be offended at someone using the Bible as prop for a photo op. The true path to change is for Christians to stop using the Bible as a prop in their own lives. If we truly believe that all are created in the image of God and deserve to be treated as such, then that is the steep and rocky path we must choose.

This may not stop police brutality or lynching or racism or hatred. But it will surely lead us to speak up and work to do something about it.

It is time for all of us to stop our strategic placement of closed Bibles, and start opening it up to do what it actually says.

Ahmaud Arbery: Is It Too Late for Hope?

White Christian outrage at the callous murder of Ahmaud Arbery is about 200 years too late. But there is at least a chance that this is truly a case of better late than never.

If you have watched the video and are not outraged at Ahmaud Arbery’s murder, you may want to go to the doctor or call for a telemed appointment. Because something is wrong.

Say his name: Ahmaud Arbery

While some will continue to excuse this as a “justifiable” homicide, many (and hopefully most) people are clamoring for action to bring the murderers to justice. As well we should. Minus an outcry from the Arbery family, the Brunswick community, and social media, this case might well have turned into another whitewashed murder of a black person.

While there remains a long and pothole-filled road to travel, murder charges thankfully went on file May 7, 2020. And people cheered—for the most part. Some also went on the defensive, as this pastor (not identified) did in a tweet.


A white pastor’s defensive outrage seems a lot more like standing near the vulnerable rather than with them. Certainly, not all white southerners or white Christians act like these men did. But the painful reality is that we—and that means all of us—handed the “broad brush” to the victim and his family, as well as those who support them.

If they choose to paint with it, we have no one to blame but ourselves.

Until we acknowledge that reality, we will continue to be guilty of failing to stop the inexcusable violence that is disproportionately visited on people of color. This guilt runs from the border with Mexico to coastal Georgia to Charleston, and all around these United States. And as they have for centuries, white Christians—particularly in the South—often remain silent.

I am glad that many white people, including Southerners and Christians, are crying out for justice. But let us not take any offense or bring any self-righteous indignation to the table if we are called out for being way too late to the party.

As Dr. King said 57 years ago, “…I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice…Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.”

Just because we are speaking out this time does not excuse the wealth of history to the contrary. Our silence is the “lukewarm acceptance” that allows the status quo to exist—and I am guilty of being both absent and silent.

Where were we for Trayvon Martin, a young black man killed by a rent-a-cop for wearing a hoodie in a neighborhood?

Where were we for Tamir Rice, gunned down for playing with a BB gun?

Where were we for Walter Scott? Or Philando Castile? Or any other of the African Americans killed for charges as simple as failure to signal?

Where were we when the Charleston 9 were gunned down, and many white Southern Christians seemed far more upset over the removal of the Confederate flag from the South Carolina State House than they were about the murders?

Where were we for James Byrd?

Where were we for Addie Mae Collins, Cynthia Wesley, Carole Robertson, and Carol Denise McNair?

Where were we for Emmett Till?

Now we can add Breonna Taylor and George Floyd to the list–unnecessary violence that took the lives of African Americans since I started writing this piece.

Shaking our head and saying, “How sad!” when we read these histories will hardly justify our desire to erase the past.

Where were we for the 4000+ African Americans who were lynched following the Civil War?

For that matter, where were we for those who demanded their freedom after that war? Did we support their God-given humanity, or support a whitewashed and bastardized Gospel intended to keep people “in their place?”

Do we speak out on behalf of love and justice for all humanity, or do we excuse ourselves by saying, “Hey, I didn’t do that stuff!”?

I never took a bite out of a piece of fruit in the Garden of Eden after God told me not to, but it is for sure that this action has eternally impacted the course of my life. “Not me!” is not a legitimate justification before God.

Until we get ready to own our baggage, to acknowledge our history rather than cover it, and confess our complicity rather than issuing outraged denials, we will continue to be painted with the “broad brush.” Until Christians and pastors become more concerned about calling out our original sin in the south, we will continue to be haunted by the images of Ahmaud Arbery and thousands of others.

I have failed all too often in this task. I have chosen the security of a job and a good salary over the challenge to speak truth to power. But it does not have to stay this way. The power of Christ and the Holy Spirit means that we can speak out in genuine faith. We can confess. We can change. And yes, we can be saved—from the sins we acknowledge as well as those we have too long ignored.

Perhaps–just maybe–the outcry concerning the horrific killing Ahmaud Arbery now offers a measure of hope. While people of color have every justifiable reason to doubt this, I still cling to this possibility amid the present despair.

Perhaps this is the turning point, the moment that we recognize the horrible and egregious existence of institutionalized and ingrained racism that persists in this country.

While not foolish enough to view this as the end of racism, I am hopeful about the number of people who are outraged by this event. I am hopeful that more people will recognize the ongoing toll of racism, embedded within this nation. I am hopeful that more people will recognize their own complicity and innate advantage that they gain from being white in a nation where white still equals right in many sectors.

All white people do not directly act on racist tendencies or visit their deep-seated feelings upon people of color. But we have all benefited from the historically racist foundations of our nation. White people had education, opportunity, economic advantage, and security that has yet to be afforded to people of color. Looking deep within ourselves and recognizing that undeniable reality is not the key to changing black people. It is the key to changing ourselves—and thus ending the historical reality that we inherit.

No awareness is more critical than self-awareness. My prayer is that Ahmaud Arbery’s tragic murder will bring more people to their knees, to open our hearts to our sins of both omission and commission. It is not enough to declare ourselves not directly guilty of racism. We are required by the Living Christ and the scriptures to declare our own complicity, while loudly acting against the continuation of racism.

We can change the world in many ways if we are willing to open our hearts and minds to be changed within ourselves. It is not fun, it is not easy, and it can evoke angry, pained reactions as we face the realities in which we live. Yet it is absolutely essential if we are going to be changed. And certainly if we are going to change the world.

If we do not make those changes, then we can expect more Ahmaud Arbery cases added to a list that is already far too long. Facing the demons of our noteworthy silence and our racist history is essential to shifting the narrative ever so slightly towards justice.

If a few more people are willing to do that, then perhaps Ahmaud Arbery’s senseless lynching will find some measure of purpose. His life and his memory may shine a terrible and necessary light on the truth of our present reality.


Universities, Sports, and COVID-19: A Defense of My Alma Mater

Alumni and others cry “Foul!” at Furman University ending their baseball and lacrosse programs for men. But some of the complaints show limited understanding of university funding—or the freight train that is bearing down on college athletics.

You will find many who give more money to Furman University than I do. But you will not find many who love the University with any greater passion.

Furman is in my blood. Literally. It is a passion and a legacy handed down to me from my parents, particularly my father.

It therefore crushed me to learn this week that the Furman administration has decided to end its baseball program. 123 years of history just disappeared into oblivion in the blink of an eye. Along with it went the athletic hopes and dreams of young men who wanted to compete at the Division I level.

While it does not hold the long history, the same thing happened to Furman men’s lacrosse. The program has played in Division 1 for only six years, but created a significant presence on the campus.

College baseball is not exactly one of my favorite sports. As for Paladin Lacrosse, I do not even know the rules. The main thing I can tell you is they are crazy enough to play a game where you run around swinging a stick, and they are the most fun fans to see at basketball games

Yet, this is incredibly sad because of the men that came to Furman, with the goal of representing the “diamond F” with pride and dignity. It is crushing that these players had the rug snatched out from under them.

What is also sad is the reaction that some alums and others have demonstrated about this situation. Furman’s administration is facing the same decisions as many other colleges and universities during the COVID-19 crisis: how do we sustain ourselves with the loss of millions in revenue?

Few, if any, of these institutions have a “rainy day” fund that will cover this. Few, if any, will want to hear a defense of Furman University and its decision. I still want to offer some things that might be food for thought.

Keep in mind that this is not hard evidence, but merely reading between the lines, reading the words of President Elizabeth Davis and Athletic Director Jason Donnelly, and talking with some other friends around the higher education community.

  1. Mistakes were made: I do not know exactly what these were, but in retrospect everyone is probably thinking about what they should have or could have done to prevent this. Someone likely made some poor decisions at some point, and hopefully will learn better for the future.

I doubt that this rises to the level of some of the wild speculation that I see on social media about how Furman spends its money. But harsh moves like this often come with great regret that we do not get many “mulligans” in life. Clearly people who had to make this call are also looking at how the University can avoid this in the future.

Probably the most logical charge that fans are lobbying is that the athletic department overextended itself by adding lacrosse. Keep in mind that the people who made that decision are no longer at Furman! That leaves the current admins to deal with the problem under the most difficult of circumstances.

  1. Some of this was coming, COVID-19 or not: Based on Donnelly’s letter to fans and alumni, he knew coming into the job (and he’s only been on it one year), some decision had to be made regarding the number of sports at Furman. 20 varsity Division I teams for a school with roughly 2800 undergraduates is not sustainable. Again, these decisions happened long before Donnelly or Dr. Davis arrived, but they are left to clean up the problem.
  2. Endowments are not checking accounts: I could offer a lot of opinions about universities and endowments and the attitude towards those endowed funds. And a lot of those opinions may sound less than generous.

However, let us go in another direction. Many alums are saying, “Why not just dip into those hundreds of millions of endowment dollars to keep things moving?”

If only it were that simple…

First off, you cannot treat the endowment like a debit card. Endowed dollars are often designated dollars. That means a lot of folks gave for specific purposes, and you cannot shift that money without a truckload of legal wrangling. Using endowed funds for an undesignated purpose would bring another truckload of legal issues.

Second, remember that the endowment has lost $100 million during the COVID-19 crisis due to stock fluctuations and investment losses. Can the University afford to spend part of that when more losses could come? That is a loss of dividends and interest that funds other programs, including academic programs. Borrowing from Peter to pay Paul is often a bad idea.

  1. The University is honoring scholarships: The critical aspect here is that Furman is not snatching away the educational opportunity from their recruits. While it is sad that these young men must go elsewhere to continue athletics, they can still take advantage of a top-level education.

Paladin athletics, especially football, means the world to me. Surely, athletes in other sports feel the same about their programs. But it is only a fraction of what Furman University as a whole means to me. For all that athletics did, the academics made the ultimate difference in my life.

I wish that these men could stay to play. The biggest difference Furman offers is found in the classroom, and that will ultimately give them their greatest value, should they choose to take that route.

  1. If anyone believes there is malfeasance by the administration, then bring the charges: I was dumb enough to engage in social media “battles” this week over this decision. Some accused the administration of fraud, mismanagement, wastefulness, etc. Some believe that Furman should be investigated by law enforcement.

I say that if you believe this, then bring your charges. And receipts. If any graduate or donor thinks that this can be proven, stop making unfounded accusations and bring the evidence. If there is wrongdoing, I will join you in calling it out.

But I doubt it. I doubt even less that anyone has the guts to bring a formal accusation or any level of proof.

  1. Furman may be the first, but it will not be the only: The notion that this is the only institution who will make cuts because of COVID-19 is simply disingenuous. Plenty of athletic programs will have to make difficult and painful cuts, even those with state funding and much larger student populations than Furman.

Central Michigan already pulled out the chopping block. Will Muschamp is taking a temporary pay cut at South Carolina. Some estimate that college football as a whole could lose $4 billion this year. And larger state schools are looking at similar issues.

If this is all due to mismanagement by administration, there is plenty of blame to go around. More likely, it is due to universities looking to take drastic, unwanted measures to deal with an intense loss of revenue that will hit the many rather than the few.

  1. I will not stop giving to or supporting Furman University: I am certainly upset with this turn of events, even more that this may not be the end of it (although I hope it is). But I am more hopeful that this is an anomaly, and not some sign of any significant wrongdoing.

Some folks have suggested that I should quit giving to Furman because of this. Why on earth would I stop giving to the school that I love for so many reasons at a time when it needs my support the most?

We give the Furman Football Players Association. We give to the Paladin Club. We give to academic departments and initiatives. And we will continue to give as long as we are able, or until someone can offer proof of why we should not.

We do these things because we believe that a Furman education is an invaluable resource, for students and student-athletes alike. The University is certainly not perfect, by any stretch. But as Ric Flair says, we believe it is the best thing going today.

I stand with Furman when things are great, and I will continue to stand with them right now, when times are tough. In the long run, I still believe the University will end up where it needs to be.

My Faith Is Why I Wear a Mask

Limiting “The image of God” to physical appearance may be downright blasphemous enough. Using our faith as an excuse for not protecting others is actually the very opposite of the image of community in which God calls us to live.

We hear the endless drone of commercials telling us about these “challenging times,” to the point that I am monumentally sick of that phrase. When exactly are we not facing “challenging times?”

Our current “challenge,” however, is not much of a challenge for me at all. It seems that we are now in a battle over willingness to wear a face mask in public. According to some, doing so is the same as covering up the image of God.

We probably do not have time in a blog post to go into the blasphemous idea that God’s image is contained within physical appearance. Does this mean that white people look like God, but people of color do not? Vice-versa? What about people with facial disabilities or other issues society deems “deformities?”

The image of God is much more deeply ingrained within us in a way that extends far beyond physical appearance. I will leave it to my friend Zack Hunt to give a full explanation of what the phrase “image of God” truly means.

But some Christians are now latching onto another angle to justify not wearing a mask or other PPE in public. The newest declaration of “faith” is to state out loud or on social media that “I will not live in fear.”

Allow me to begin my thoughts by stating why I do live in fear, and why I consider wearing a mask because of that fear to be an act of faith.

Our family is partially responsible for the care and well-being of my 80-year old mother. She does well on her own, but we often have to be in contact with her. We also serve as guardians for a long-time friend who had a stroke and now resides in assisted living. Although the facility has restricted visitors for over two months, he now goes out at least once a week for necessary doctors’ visits due to other health issues.

Yes, I am very afraid. Not for myself, but for them. What would I say if they got sick and my defense for this was a refusal to wear a mask, or to take any other recommended precautions?

As for the effectiveness of masks, I have no idea. I am not a doctor or biologist or epidemiologist. But if the majority of doctors, nurses, hospital staff, and medical personnel think they are important, I will side with them. My own discomfort or inconvenience seems fairly petty when it comes to the health and well-being of those that I love.

Actually, maybe the masks are an improvement???

Some may respond, “Well, that’s you. You do what you think is best, but that’s not me.” Rest assured that wearing a mask is not me. But this is not about me. This is about the health and well-being of other people. And if my fear of harming others requires living and acting differently, then it is both faithful to Christ and to Christ’s purpose.

Refusing a mask, social distancing, or other life changes because “I will not live in fear” also strikes me as completely disingenuous. How many people who say this also have insurance? How many are ardent defenders of the second amendment because they fear that someone could attack their home and family? Do any of them have a savings account, an alarm system, or a password on their wifi?

Maybe the word “fear” only applies when something makes us feel uncomfortable or inconvenienced. Or we just do not want to do it.

While my personal circumstances drive these decisions, they really should not matter. Christianity is not a call to unrestricted personal freedom. It is a call to sacrifice personal convenience, and even personal rights in Christ, for the good of the whole community. Numerous passages illustrate this point, but I will focus on two: 1 Corinthians 12 and Romans 14:13-23.

The passage in Corinthians tells us that WE are the “Body of Christ,” with many parts that all serve different functions. But all of us, with individual lives and gifts and talents, all work within the Body of Christ. No one can live fully without recognizing the importance of the other, and the necessity of working together for a good that is far greater than our personal choices.

Verses towards the close of the chapter sum up this position: “But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it, 25 so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. 26 If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it” (NRSV).

Individual citizens may claim that their personal freedom takes precedent over the concerns of others. Those who claim to be followers of Christ have renounced that luxury. We are called to put ourselves aside for the good of the whole.

Perhaps no passage illustrates this better than Romans 14. Here, Paul completely acknowledges the right of Christians to exercise their personal freedom.

He then turns around and asks them not to exercise that freedom for the good of others.

According to the scriptures, exercising your personal freedom could do harm to other believers, and may drive them away from the Body of Christ. No personal claim is worth the cost to the lives and well-being of those who are—or may become—disciples of Christ. For the good of all, we are expected to set aside any issue of personal privilege, freedom, or convenience.

This is not because we are afraid. It is to help others to deal with whatever risk they face, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem to us. God’s true image is demonstrated when we strive to live as a part of the community of believers rather than trying to spiritual superiority as individuals. When we act for the good of others in community instead of in our own personal self-interest, then we are truly showing the image of God to the world.

Following safety protocols in light of a virus that has killed over 90,000 people in three months is surely an inconvenience, to all of us. And it is impossible to make anyone follow those protocols. Trust me when I tell you that my mother will defy my objections and high-tail it to her hair dresser and nail salon the minute she gets the chance.

But this is not justification for me to stop doing all I can to avoid spreading this virus to her. Or to the nurses who take care of my friend. Or to the grocery clerk who goes to work every day to ring up my groceries. Or to the restaurant employee who prepares my carry-out order. Or to the person who brings my mail. Or to the Amazon delivery driver, whom I have kept exceedingly busy over the last 60+ days.

If I am following safety protocols out of fear for their safety as well as my own, then my fear is well-founded and faithful. And if we are not willing to sacrifice our ease and comfort for that, then God help us.

The Ten Best “Steals” in Atlanta History

Just for a change of pace, I went with a sports blog this week. These ten players came out of nowhere in the draft to make their name with the Falcons.

Anyone who has known me for more than 10 minutes recognizes that I am a crazy fan of the Pittsburgh Steelers. Even my coronavirus mask proves it.

But this wasn’t always the case. In my early life, we got one team every Sunday on our old school Magnavox console TV, and that team was the Atlanta Falcons. And I grew into one of the world’s saddest creatures: a Falcons fan.

Anyone else have a high-tech beauty like this–all the way through high school?

I went nuts when the Falcons won their first playoff game against Philadelphia on Christmas Eve, 1978. I watched with my dad as Steve Bartkowski hit Wallace Francis with the game winner, right before we had to leave for church.

Then I died a little when they lost in Dallas in the ’78 playoffs. I died a lot when they lost to the Cowboys again in the ’80 divisional round, in the old Fulton County stadium. For the record, I have hated everything about the Cowboys for the remainder of my life, with the burning passion of 1000 suns.

Watching this play with my dad was one of many things to seal my love of the game.

This is not to mention the loss to the Redskins in the ’91 playoffs and the horror of Super Bowl XXXIII. And especially in the “Super Bowl that will not be named.”

But a post from a new twitter follower (@FatboiSlim_21) about horrible Falcons draft choices (and there are many options to choose) got me thinking. Where did the Falcons find extraordinary value in the draft or unsigned free agents over the years?

Just for fun, here are the best values for the Falcons in their history.

10. William Andrews – Okay, Andrews wasn’t exactly a “steal” in the 3rd round, which is why he comes in at #10. And I have some serious bias here as he is probably my second-favorite Falcon of all time.

But keep in mind that he was arguably on his way to being one of the greatest—if not the greatest—running backs in history if injuries had not derailed his career. With the bruising style of Jim Brown, speed of Eric Dickerson, hands of a wide receiver, and a 4.6 YPC average, Andrews was surely a steal as a R3 fullback.

And he was about the only player that could convince Steve Bartkowski to throw a pass shorter than a 50-yard bomb. And if you have any questions about Andrews’ greatness, just watch this play.

9. Alfred Jenkins – Again, Jenkins is one of my personal favorites. He spent his first season in the long-defunct World Football League before he signed with Atlanta. As Steve Bartkowski’s favorite target, Jenkins became a highly underrated wide receiver. This followed his career at the football powerhouse known as Morris Brown College.

I remember a story that Jenkins was legally blind but refused to wear glasses because he felt that it forced him to concentrate. That may or may not be true. But without question, Jenkins’ 17.4 YPC average places him among the great steals that the Falcons’ front office ever discovered.

8. Jeff Merrow – As an 11th round pick in the days of a 12-round draft, Merrow was not the most noteworthy player. Selected in 1975, sacks were not a statistic for the majority of his career.

In spite of this, Merrow was a model of consistency as a defensive end in the 3-4 scheme, where down linemen rarely get sacks. He started over 100 games for the Birds over his 9-year career. That’s exceptional consistency and value for a guy who would be undrafted in the modern era.

7. Grady Jarrett – It may be a little early to place Jarrett on this list. But a 5th round pick at nose guard who produces 21.5 sacks is exceptional value in the modern era. As a Steeler fan, I surely wish they had selected him to play in the 3-4 scheme. He’s also the son of someone who will appear further up on this list.

How on earth did this guy hang around until R5?


6. Joel Williams – Once again, I am showing partiality to the 1980 team. After all, I did own a #10 Steve Bartkowski jersey.

Joel Williams had 15.5 sacks that season (unofficial), a record that stood 28 years until John Abraham broke it in 2008. After joining the team in 1979, Williams retired as a Falcon in 1989. Coming from Wisonsin-La Crosse, that’s a pretty solid 11-year career.

5. Rolland Lawrence – The career interceptions leader for the Atlanta Falcons is truly a sad story. After joining the team as an UFA in 1973, Lawrence never missed a game until the end of his career in 1980. He still holds the team’s all-time record with 39 interceptions and made All-Pro in 1977.

In spite of his consistency, Lawrence took the load of the blame for the Falcons’ loss in the 1980 playoffs. After giving up the game winning touchdown on a fluke pass, the front office declared that Lawrence would never play for the Falcons again. And he didn’t—in spite of the fact that the loss was obviously not his fault.

Such a player clearly deserves much more recognition for his role in Falcons’ history.

4. Michael Haynes – As a round 7 draft pick in 1988, Haynes became a serious threat in the Jerry Glanville Run-and-Shoot offense. 47 career touchdowns and a 15.4 YPR average are pretty good for an unknown player out of Northern Arizona.

Haynes was the deep threat needed to allow the wealth of Falcons’ receivers run the short, quick routes that are essential to the Run-and-Shoot system. Although he departed for three seasons with the hated Saints, he came back for one last season to complete his career in Atlanta. That makes him a serious still at pick #166.

3. Jamaal Anderson – How could you ignore the icon of the “Dirty Bird” dance of 1998? The 7th round pick out of Utah practically hauled the Falcons on his shoulders in 1998, all the way to Super Bowl XXXIII.

jandersonAnderson’s career was cut short by injuries, an all too familiar tale for NFL running backs. But what a career it was, amassing 4927 rushing yards in just four full seasons as a starter. Often overlooked is his skill as a receiver, where he amassed a career-high 49 catches in 1996 and 42 in 2000.

With a whopping 437 touches in 1998 (11th highest all-time), Anderson deserved the MVP award for that season. Once again, like many running backs, he was never the same after that workhorse season. He left the game after ruining his knee in 2001 and has struggled mightily with life after football. Still, few 7th-rounders ever accomplished what he did during a career.


2. Jeff Van Note – It pains me to put Van Note at number two. Offensive linemen are, of course, the smartest and most valuable players on the field. (Anyone want to guess what position I played?).

The Falcons drafted Jeff Van Note as a linebacker from the University of Kentucky in the 11th round of the 1969 draft. He then moved to offensive line. All he did from that point was start 226 games, make six pro bowls, and receive two all-pro selections. He was the face of the Falcons in the best and the worst of times, an unequivocal team leader for 18 seasons. He never played for any other team.

The only sad part of this tale is that Van Note is not in the Pro Football Hall of Fame, likely because he played in the same era as many of the great centers in history (who often played for better teams). This error will hopefully be corrected while Jeff Van Note is alive to see it.

1. Jessie Tuggle – #1 and #2 couldn’t be much closer here. But by the slightest of margins, Tuggle gets the nod for the Falcons’ greatest steal of a deal. One reason is that he is the father of the #7 name on this list.

The other reasons are plentiful. As an undrafted free agent from Division II Valdosta State, Tuggle too short, too light, and too slow to be a solid middle linebacker in the NFL.

Or so everyone thought.

Tuggle was especially brutal against the run.

Ignoring the odds, he became the unquestioned face and leader of the franchise for 14 seasons. He earned three all-pro selections, made the pro bowl five times, and led the Falcons to their first Super Bowl following the 1998 season. He was respected as one of the great overachievers in the league with his uncanny nose for the football and the ability to knock the slobber out of his opponents. He was one of the most respected defenders in the NFL throughout his career.

Jessie Tuggle had chances to move along to more successful franchises, but he chose to make Atlanta his one and only team. Sadly, rumor has it that Tuggle has suffered from concussion-related issues following his career. He long held the NFL record for most fumble recoveries for touchdowns.

Honorable Mention (in no particular order) – Tom Pridemore, Brian Finneran, Robert Garza, Alfred Jackson, Fulton Kuykendall, Travis Hall, Erric Peagram, Devonta Freeman

That’s the list—and feel free to disagree or point out players I may have missed. The Falcons have had some wretched draft picks over the years, but they’ve also found some all-time diamonds in the rough.

Now, if they can just find their way back to some classic uniforms, we might really have something to discuss!



Holding Church in a Pandemic

Insisting on large gatherings for worship while dealing with COVID-19 shows a lack of faith, and perhaps ignores the Greatest Commandments.

I “grew up” in a rural community known as Camden County, NC.

No, I did not spend my childhood or school years there. The growing pains (and joys) that I experienced came as a very young first-time pastor of a country church. As I have written previously, it was a glorious experience.

If any community is tailor-made for social distancing, it is Camden. On the front of our home in that farming/bedroom town, I had to walk 40 yards to get to our closest across-the-street neighbor. And don’t even think about trying to walk to the back yard (or, back 40) neighbors.

The problem with this type of natural separation is it also makes community gatherings all the more vital. School events are packed to the rafters. Ball fields are crowded with family and friends. Services at Sawyer’s Creek Baptist (our church) are should-to-shoulder—where great grandparents to children worship together. These are the things that make community what it is in many rural regions.

Yet, as important as these gatherings may be, the pastor of Sawyer’s Creek Baptist Church has chosen caution. Rev. Kevin Buzzard is opting for online services and forms of delivering the Gospel message, rather than opting for regular worship gatherings. SCBC is not the most high-tech congregation, but they are using the tools at hand to connect with this close-knit community in a safe and responsible way.

A few pastors in Florida and Pittsburgh could learn from his example.

Many have read the stories of churches holding services or perhaps of pastors being arrested in the midst of this mess. I have a lot of issues with the government interfering in the ministry of the church, but we may save that for another blog.

I am a Christian, and a pastor (albeit the world’s worst). A few pastors choose to hold public worship as an example of faith and fearlessness. Parishioners claim to be “covered by the blood of Jesus” and “claiming Psalm 91” as protection from coronovirus. (Side note: I’m not a fan of the video, just using it as an example).

These folks might need a reminder of someone else who once quoted the power of protection of Psalm 91. It was Satan. He was trying to convince Jesus that God would protect him if he jumped off a steeple.

Having live worship gatherings during a time of international crisis and mounting health concerns/death is not an act of faith and obedience to God’s call. Nor is it a demonstration of God’s power over the forces of this world. It is an act of extreme arrogance, foolishness, and—truth be told—faithlessness.

That may sound harsh and judgmental to you. And you’re absolutely right. I am not judging the intention of these pastors, as I cannot begin to imagine what they are actually thinking. But we can discern the potential outcome of their decisions, and the witness they are providing to the world through them.

There is a reason that I hold to the Biblical description of church as the “Body of Christ.” I firmly believe that Christian community is about embodiment—both the mental, spiritual, and physical presence of Christ in and through one another. The Body is at its best when we GATHER in person as a community.

But that does not mean that God can only work when we gather in a physical place.

Church buildings do not contain God, and they are certainly not the only places where God shows up. Gathering for worship in a sanctuary—or, in modern parlance, a “worship center”—is not the only way for us to be the Body of Christ. Right now, it is probably not even the best way.

Christianity holds an idealized view of Biblical heroes that they just bulled straight ahead in a death-defying charge to share the Gospel. They didn’t. While they certainly did as the Spirit directed them, they acted with wisdom, reluctance, and savvy in carrying out their tasks.

And they certainly did not act in a manner that would put Christ-followers in harm’s way. THEY took the responsibility and whatever punishments might come, while encouraging their followers to use caution in care of one another.

Even Jesus knew when to withdraw from danger, and when to stare it in the face. He waited until the time was right and it was absolutely necessary to confront the ultimate danger.

Why would God call on us to bring people together in willful defiance when such gatherings risk the health and lives of believers—and, worse yet, non-believers? It’s one thing if we choose to take risks ourselves but continuing to gather risks the lives of others.

I am wary of the government getting involved in religion, and vice versa. But this is an extreme circumstance where our best and most powerful witness is to work with civic leaders. Doing so might also save our faith.

From the evidence that I can see, these churches are not gathering to feed the homeless or compile medical supplies or care for homebound senior adults. That might hold legitimate weight if they were taking such actions. They are insisting on getting together for regular worship.

If we truly believe that God is more powerful than COVID-19, then why is God not powerful enough to speak and act and move to gather us over Facebook Live? Why would we ever suggest that we must gather in a certain building on a certain plot of land to experience Holy Ground? If God is watching over us, then certainly the Holy Spirit can work in wonderful ways even through the dangerous power of the internet.

Perhaps pastors are worried that they will appear weak if they do not defy the civil ordinances. But don’t we often cite scripture that tells us God’s strength is found when we feel weak?

Perhaps some pastors fear that, if the online option becomes a “thing” among their people, they will quit coming when services resume. But isn’t that the very heart and spirit of fear that they say they are defying?

I talked with a pastor of a small church in the Pittsburgh area who expressed such concerns. He worried about giving, attendance, and the very future of the church is services stopped. Such worries are much more significant for smaller congregations than for some who continue to violate the law.

After his decidedly traditional, low-tech congregation moved to online services, he then discovered that a lot of people were watching—even people whose shadow never darkened the door of the church. He received comments and questions and compliments from those in the community that he barely knew or never met.

Yes, Christ does not require your defiance in order to be a positive witness to the world. He does expect your faithfulness, and that includes faithfully caring for the well-being of others about yourself.

For a congregation like Sawyer’s Creek, gathering as community is essential. If they can find a way to do that through technology, then surely others can prove faithful by doing the same. Faith tells us that the Spirit will continue to work, even when the rest of the world doesn’t.

Our witness to the world right now will determine how Christianity is viewed after this crisis. Jesus says that the two greatest commandments are to “Love the Lord your God” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.” How we choose to react to this crisis will determine how serious we are about both.