the fish with whiskers
Well, a fishing report . . .
Nephew Ryan was the first to get a strike. "Uncle Richard, I can't see my bobber!!" It was a 3 lb flathead catfish. Less than 15 minutes later, Parker says, "I think I have a small one." It was a 3 1/2 lb channel cat. Having those two fish in the boat, it was already a successful fishing expedition - you know, the guarantee, and all. We moved to the dam, and caught 8 or 9 bluegill to make it an evening.
This morning, first thing we ran the jug lines. First one had a 4 lb channel cat, and the second one was headed north toward Kansas. He weighed in at about 6 lbs. Nothing else was biting, and so I packed it up and headed home, leaving the brother and nephew to spend another night in the "Hyatt Regency" travel trailer.
When I get the picture developed, will post.
Still haven't written the sermon . . .
addendum to "filtering"
and then sometimes . . .First, a little practicality. One of the best things about e-mail, or online journaling, is that the author is afforded the opportunity to preview his work before it is set out there for all to peruse. I have written a few harsh correspondences, only to hit the delete key, and then pen something altogether appropriate for the occasion. Harder to do that with the spoken word. Somehow, the exercise of having written what you think sometimes alleviates the need to actually hit the print key . . .Then, a little philosophy. I wish I could remember the name of the preaching coach who said, "No sermon is every really finished . . ." That is oh, so true. An idea is generated, then study happens, something is put on page, edited, and finally, the presentation - the delivery. My sister says that "preaching is like delivering a baby on Sunday, only to discover on Monday that you're pregnant again." But after the delivery comes the evaluation, and the evaluation always indicates that more (or less) could have been said, and could have been said in a different way. Pondering my musings from yesterday on "filtering," it occurs to me that I hit the "print" key a little early - as in, I thought of something else. Thus, the addendum. Here it is . . .For years, I tried to journal. Taking pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, I attempted to write something of my innermost feelings and thoughts so that . . . Evidently, so that nothing!! I could never stay with this task. Something about it fell short of my expectations. I never kept with it more than a few days, at most. Looking back in one of my "journals," I notice that most of my entries begin with something like "well, let's try this again!"Then comes the world of cyberspace journaling. For six weeks now, I have written nearly every day. What makes the difference?? It must be that perhaps, someone else will read my thoughts. Which of course makes me pause to ask the question, "am I inclined to care what others think more than what I think?", and the parallel question, "am I so inclined as to need others to know what I am thinking?"And then I wonder what the psychiatrist would say about that?Sojourning off to the lake to do a little fishing with my brother, my nephew, and one other lad from the church. This week's sermon is simmering on the back burner, as yet unwritten . . .
filtering
I've been at this for several weeks, and I've noticed a thing or two. Well, maybe just the two. People blog for different reasons. Some write to get their point across - they have something to say - a cause, a passion, a burr under their saddle - and they write to "get it out, and say what needs to be said. From time to time, I have and will do that in my rantings.
But some come to this sacred place to "think out loud." I suppose that's really why I have chosen to take off on this venture - I need a place to say what I think, and this presents a problem. I suspect its a problem for all bloggers, but having spoken to a "preacher type" or two on the subject, it may be more of a problem for our "crowd." When I start to write, I am obliged, to some degree, to filter what I say because of who might read and get offended. To counter that problem, some bloggers start out anonymously - I did. But here's the rub - my need to have others inspect my thoughts, or follow my life with rapt attention, or guffaw at my whimsy, or what ever other insanely self-focused purpose I might have - eventually overcomes my need for anonymity, and I blog away. So the result is, you get the "filtered" version.Today, that kinda irritates me. It irritates me about societal expectations, and it irritates me about my own personal insecurities. Not so much that I'll do anything more than rant, mind you - but it irritates me just the same.Thus endeth the rant. Now I sojourneth off to pen a sermon . . . probably not as filtered as my personal thoughts.
A Better View . . .
We buried Dad twelve weeks ago this morning. Soon I'll be talking about how many months ago it was . . .This morning as I watched the shuttle take off, I started remembering. Five-thirty would roll around pretty much every day at our house in Pasadena Texas. When we were younger, we would go stand on the street corner to watch Dad come home from work. There was always a parade - he was so conservative, he would take his foot off the gas a block away from our street, coasting home, and the traffic would stack up behind him - first in that '60 Mercedes, then that ghastly yellow Dodge van, and finally in his Fiat Spider. We watched Dad come home from his job at NASA. We knew he was doing something important - we just didn't know how important.When I talked to Tracy this morning, she said "sadness laced with pride - what do I do with these feelings. Sadness and pride - that's exactly what I was feeling. Then she said that she told her children this morning, "My Daddy built that . . ." They didn't know. Back then, neither did we.
Something of my father is in space this morning. This is a picture of the project he worked the 
longest on - an alternative i-beam type structure for the Space Station. I hope someday they choose to use it. It was better than what they were considering at the time. He knew his business, and he did help to build the shuttle. The morning that Challenger blew up, I was watching. So was Dad. I called him immediately, and asked him what went wrong. Hours before NASA said anything publically, Dad said, "I imagine it had something to do with the o-rings on the solid rocket boosters." He knew his business. In the guest book of his online obituary, his friends commented about his contribution to the space program. Words of pride for me.New tears - tears of sadness laced with pride. I watched again this morning - I suspect I always will. And I suspect Dad had a better view this morning - of the whole thing.
Blog Deux
You may notice that I have added a couple of other sites I visit with regularity. I hope this list will grow in the next month. I hope to have a little time to visit some friends, and come to know what's going on in the lives of some other folk around the globe . . .
Shamelessly, the first link on that list is a new blog I created this evening - I have posted my sermon from this morning.
The Cornerstone Pulpit will be a place that anyone can go to read my sermon from the previous week, and it will serve as something of an archive for me (and any others who are interested). Comments are welcome - in fact, I hope a conversation develops each week as a result of this effort. And of course, you are welcome to share that site with your friends.
We had a super day at Cornerstone today. Read what my friend, Mike Kear, had to say about it in
The Emmaus Theory.
Peace.
Customer service????
OK!! I know I had a good week at camp last week. And I know it's a full moon right now. And I know this makes me sound like an old timer - but - has customer service gone the way of the stage coach??
Just today:
(1) one spoof e-mail from an ebay lookalike,
(2) then couldn't get anyone to come out of the back room at Subway, so
(3) I left and went next door to (drum roll, and don't laugh at me) Little Caesars - the young man moved to the counter - no words from him - from me "do you have a hot and ready?" - "Yep" - "What kind do you have?" "Pepperoni or cheese" "I'll have a pepperoni, please?" He rings it up - the register shows $5.42. Still, no words from him. I just hand him the cash. Still, no word - but he spoke a minute ago in response to my question, so I know he isn't a mute. He hands me my change. I say, "Thank you."
Still no words!!!!!! So, I ask, "Do they teach you to say thank you?" He mumbles the words, and I so I am compelled to say, "You are rather rude, you know." He flashes me a cryptic half-grin, and turns to "help" the next customer.
Maybe its just me, but I think I ought to be allowed, by law, to gather a few friends, and take him out into the street for a public stoning.
Just grinching, but I'd love to hear some of your similar stories.
You know it won't do a bit of good, but . . .
I opened up my Enid New and Eagle this past Saturday morning, and took a look at the religion section. They list the sermon titles for the following day, and I generally like to see what the other pastors in town are preaching on. Down in the corner of the page was the article:
Cooperative Baptist Fellowship deletes Christ from constitutionIt was a partial reprint of a Baptist Press (Southern Baptists) article. I knew immediately that it wouldn't do a bit of good, but that I was going to have to say something in response. I post my response here should any of you be able to profit from it.
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Your article from July 16 (religion section) about the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship requires a clarifying response on three points:
First, it is indeed true that Baptists have been fussing for a number of years now. Cooperative Baptists and Southern Baptists do not always see “eye to eye” on multiple points of theology, and thus their separation. The AP report you printed was a reprint of a Baptist Press article (July 1, BP). Understand that Baptist Press is a Southern Baptist news agency, and thus your reporting presents one perspective of what actually happened in Grapevine, Texas earlier this month.
Second, the statement in question is a revision of the constitutional “purpose” statement of CBF, and was designed to bring that statement in line with the “mission” statement of CBF. Our “Vision” statement remains as follows: “To be the Presence of Christ in the world.” As a member of CBF, I understand that Jesus Christ and His mission in our world is central to all that we do as Great Commission, Great Commandment Christians. The mission of CBF is indeed to serve Christians and churches as we seek to discover and accomplish our God given mission. As pastor of a local church, Cornerstone Baptist, I understand that CBF works for me, not the other way around. I appreciate their humility, honesty and clarity on this matter.
Third, CBF accomplished a great deal more at their annual meeting this year, not the least of which was the appointment of 19 more missionaries, reports on the collection of funds for Tsunami relief efforts in Southeast Asia, and generally enjoying fellowship with other Christians. Those activities and countless others were the real “news” of the General Assembly, and confirmation of the reason that I remain affiliated with this group of Christian people.
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Well, that was what I turned in as a letter to the editor. We'll see if they print it.
I am so very tired of the fight between Christian people in this world. We have more important things to do with our time. Jesus had a word about such foolish activity in his response to the disciples - Luke 9:49-50 - And John answered and said, "Master, we saw someone casting out demons in Your name; and we tried to hinder him because he does not follow along with us." But Jesus said to him, "Do not hinder him; for he who is not against you is for you."(NAS)
We've much more to worry about than who is the better version of a disciple of Christ. In the end, Christ Himself will sort all that out. In the mean time, we have to be about the business of telling people - lots of people who don't yet know - that Christ loves them and died for them.
on the road again . . . . . . . . . . . .
I can report that the rooms are empty, of all luggage, trash, and campers - all keys are turned in, and all the earthly belongings of your Passport campers are on the van. Now, if we can find room for the campers on said van . . .
What a great week. Parents, you will want an individual report on your particular camper(s) - but let me say, they performed admirably. They were gracious, respectful, engaged, entertaining, and generally made a hit on campus - smallest church in number won the volleyball tournament, and had the best introductory song. At camp, at least, Cornerstone is a force to be reckoned with (dangling preposition intended).
sojourning off to breakfast, bible study, one more Morning celebration, and then on the road. We should be home around 2 am - sooner if JD drives most of the way.
We Win, We Win, We Win . . .
Just moments ago, the Cornerstone Youth campers won the volleyball tournament. We were victorious in all of the preliminary games, and then we graciously demolished the Passport Staff (Who has only lost one other game this summer).
Seriously, though. These kiddos have played together for a number of years, have come in second several times, and this feels good for this generation of Passport Campers from Cornerstone.
By the way - the Pastor was called in for the final serve in the first two games . . .no brag, just fact.
Sojourning off to the showers . . .
born again again . . .
Camp always does this for me, at least a little.
On my way out here, I was commenting to our youth minister how really dead I feel inside. A family death does that to you, you know - and since Dad passed away, I have felt as though I have died a little myself.
I promised myself one thing - no one is going to rush me through this grief process. I spoke with a man the other night about my recent loss, and he started to give me the "suck it up and get over it" speech. I asked him what he meant, and he started to tell me about when his mother died, 12 years ago, and he started to tear up. I think he proved my point. I want to feel joy at the blessings of the relationship when 12 years rolls around - not unresolved grief.
Anyway, this week has been good for me - something about the exuberance of youth, the late night poker tournaments, the joy and laughter and privilege of being around people - young adults, really - who will listen to a little experience, and then wryly grin, knowing that they are going to go out there and create their own experiences, thank you.
Maybe, just maybe - I've been reborn a little this week. It kinda feels like it.
Gotta sojourn out to the volleyball court - which is, by the way, one of the things that makes camp great.
Listening Out Loud
Tuesday at camp - theme - Listening out Loud.
The silence of listening can be deafening.
Two of our boys finally arrived at 2 am at the Louisville airport. So, I must confess - I slept through morning Bible Study. Then off to the worksite - the Homeless shelter. I listened to two extremely interesting, young ministers - in their early church experiences.
Something about the service tonight. The OT story about listening to God in the still, small voice. Then there was a reference to Romans 8 - my favorite chapter, and then a reference to Psalm 139. Listen with me again . . .
Lord, you have searched me, and know me. You know my movements, you know my thoughts, you know directions. You knew me before I started knowing myself. You protect my foward direction, and you protect me from behind. You know more about me than I can imagine.Where can I go from your Spirit? Wherever I try to go, you have already been there - heaven, hell, darkness - You illumine my darkness.It's been a while, but God spoke to me tonight in a different kind of way - and I'm not sure He used any words.
Oh, well. Listening is hard work. Maybe sleep will help. Sojourning off to the mattress . . .
Laughing out Loud - Passport Camp
LOL - for today, anyway, meant Laughing out Loud. And boy, did we.
Morning Celebration is always a hoot. We enter the auditorium to beach balls and swimming noodles being batted around in the air. Then lots of dancing around, silly games, singing - just a roaring good time.
Bible Study was about Abraham and Sarah - and Isaac (Laughter is his name). And several party stories from the New Testament. All in all a good time.
Then tonight, LOL stood for Lots of Water. Water games at the park. Just as we arrived, it started sprinkling. Then a break from the aerial moisture, and then a rather torrential downpour. The kids had a blast. Lots of water games (My favorite was the kids side by side in two columns, lying on their backs, feet facing each other - a large tub was filled with water, and they were to pass the tub down the line using their feet. It didn't always make it.)
A quote from A.L. tonight - "That was the most fun I ever had. I stood next to him during worship, and that young man can SING. What a beautiful voice.
More later. Sojourning off to the airport to pick up two more campers . . .
Passport #5
Welcome from Kentucky . . .
I traveled with J.D. (our youth minister) and three of our young people to beautiful Louisville, KY. This evening, two more of our boys will fly in, giving us a total of 7 (I think my math is correct - I'm still a little punchy from the trip). One of the ladies who runs the place says that there are around 300 campers this week. Small, intimate, relaxed - my kind of camp.
Passport is always great. Morning Celebration, Bible Study in the morning, worksite over the lunch hour until around 2:30, free time and activities in the afternoon, worship and devotionals in the evening, and they have a dance every year - yes, a Baptist youth camp with a dance. What a concept!!!! And I got this kool blue and pink t-shirt. Theme for the week - LOL - stay tuned for what that means.
Our kids are doing great!! They are involved, engaged, gregarious, non-slacking - all the things their parents want to hear. I think the thing I like the most about this camp is the interaction with those who are in need - the mission projects. I am with a group who will be working at a homeless shelter - we toured this morning, and they house nearly 200 every night, and feed between 1200 and 1500 every day. Quite an operation.
Didn't know we would have web access this week. Check in every day, and I'll try to keep you posted on what's going on. Parents can get a message to their kiddo through me, if you like.
Out of pocket
I leave for camp in the morning. Youth camp - ahh, it revives memories. While all things change, all things remain constant. Deep, huh!!
We head to beautiful Louisville, KY. Several other Oklahoma churches will be attending the same camp, so it should be a blast. My goals - I plan to learn how to play the guitar this week - with one of the youth boys as my tutor. We'll see. And I plan to talk J.D. into sneaking off with me to Kentucky Downs. That may be a more attainable goal.
Can't promise I'll write - at least for the next 8 days. I wouldn't count on it.
Sojourning to the East . . .
By the way - 82 days and counting . . .
Perhaps my favorite title
I love it when one of my nieces or nephews calls me "Uncle Richard." It may be my favorite of all of my "titles." This week it has been my sister's daughter, Anna, calling out my name.
Anna is six. It's been a long time since we had a six year old in the house. I can't decide if she reminds me more of my daughter or my sister, both when they were much younger. Out of our clan, all of the six year old girls are pretty much the same . . .
Two rather cute vignettes from this week. Sunday was the church anniversary. We put our anniversary cake on the altar table. One of the young girls in the church fussed at me for sticking my finger in the cake, right in front of her. "How come you get to do that?!" I responded, "When you get to be pastor, you can get away with the same thing." To which she responded, "A woman pastor????" Then Anna chimed in - "Hey, my Momma's a pastor." Which, of course, is the truth. Hmmmm.
Then it doesn't get any cuter than this - Anna has been away from home, and from my efforts to spoil her, and get back at her mother for all she did to my kids when they were young, I have been letting Anna eat just about anything she wanted for these days at my house. Cake, donuts, popcorn, more donuts. So, tonight, after dinner, she was singing in the living room. It was the tune to "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus in the morning, Jesus at the noon time, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus when the sun goes down." The second verse repeats "Praise Him" rather than "Jesus." You've heard it before, I'm sure. Anyway, Anna was singing this tune in the living room, but she changed the words again. "Pudding, pudding, pudding in the morning . . ."
She may not get to sojourn with Uncle Richard again - at least not any time soon. Ya think???
Thoughts on freedom
Stick with me for a minute - I'm actually headed somewhere with this . . .
You all need to read my friend's blog today on Reconstructionism (
http://emmaustheory.blogspot.com/2005/07/independence-day-reconstructionist.html).
This outstanding article gives perspective on a part of why I choose the theological path I have chosen. I had mixed feelings yesterday during all of the independence celebration - those who push these days for an ever increasing integration of God and country seem to express one side of the discussion - and I quote one gentleman with whom I spoke yesterday - "People out there want to get God out of our courts and out of our schools. That just may be the demise of our country."
Now, I make an astounding statement - some of you won't believe I can make this statement, coming from the left of center - I don't want God out of the schools, nor do I want God out of the government. There, I said it. But let me go further. Neither do I want Government or the schools mandating that faith must be a part of the normative experience of their constituents.
Faith which is coerced is not faith. Faith, by its very definition, is an individual experience, and you can only enjoy collective expressions of faith as a result of individual expressions of faith. So, at the same time in which I would accept in our government and in our schools historic references to God and people of faith, I would not accept coerced, mandated, forced expressions of faith by those who are in power or leadership in those institutions toward those who are served by those institutions.
If we learned anything from our recent lectionary wandering through the book of Genesis, it is that faith is not easy. Faith is a difficult enterprise, and faith in God is not synonomous with allegiance to our nation. Truth of the matter is that there are many Christian people who bear allegiance to other nations, and there are many non-Christian people who bear an astounding allegiance to our great nation.
That's what I was thinking as I watched the fireworks last night, and as I stood in honor of America and my freedom - my freedom first in Christ, and my freedom as a citizen of this wonderful country. I was reminded again - I am sojourning through this land on my way to a better place.
Happy birthday to us
Cornerstone is 7 years old tomorrow. Happy birthday to us.
Our church is an experiment in progress. Those of us who started and have stayed with Cornerstone Baptist for these last 7 years, and those wonderful souls who have joined us by the volition of God during those same 7 years, are convinced that church can be more honest, more accepting, more free, and more simplified than most church experiences. We are Baptist in name, and in the principles of soul freedom, biblical study, and church governance. Practically, we are eccumenical in our associations, gracious in our fellowship, and moderately progressive in our sense of faith.
When you are in Enid, we would love to welcome you as a guest. You will discover that we are truly friendly, genuinely caring, and open to all people.
Celebrate our journey . . .
The time of my life
Like a lot of bloggers I'm reading today, I've been at the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship General Assembly in Grapevine Texas. This group of Baptists is so easy to get along with - I love the pace of their annual meeting. If you are unaware of this group, take the time to check them out.
I moved into the house I live in 12 years ago today. We moved from Houston to join the staff of the First Baptist Church here in Enid. 12 years . . . That's one fourth of my life. Who'd ever thunk it??
And then I open up another blog that takes me to a website -
this death test - where I can punch in a little data, and discover statistically how much life I am likely to have remaining. Turns out I will die by February of 2040, at the ripe age of 82.85. Then they say this - "You have 12,635 days of life remaining. You have lived 58% of your life."
I have a chaplain/minister friend here in town who told me once that I am more aware of the calendar than anyone he knows. Maybe he's right - some years ago - when I obviously had too much unwasted time on my hands - I did a little calculation. Turns out that 10,000 days of life comes 18 days before your 27 1/2 birthday, and thus 20,000 days comes 36 days before your 55th birthday. Add 27.5 to that, and you come up with 54 days before your 82 1/2 birthday is when you reach 30,000 days. You can check my math if you want - but that would be sad on your part. Almost all of us see 10,000 days. Most of us see 20,000 days. It is becoming the rare person who sees 30,000 days of life. By my calculations, I'll just pass that number . . .
I remember telling some parents that from the day your child comes into your home until they reach 18, you have 6575 days. How many of those can a parent afford to waste. If your child learns one really important thing from you a day, are there not more than 6575 really important things to know??
So, I'm down to my last 35 years or so of life. What might I accomplish in that time frame??
