Fog

I had to drive in the fog this week. I’m not talking about the kind of patchy fog you drive through while you’re crossing a bridge and then you are back in the sunshine. No. I drove for two and half hours through the kind of fog in which Edgar Allan Poe set all of his stories.

I had to drive in the fog this week. I’m not talking about the kind of patchy fog you drive through while you’re crossing a bridge and then you are back in the sunshine. No. I drove for two and a half hours through the kind of fog in which Edgar Allan Poe set all of his stories. At least that’s the thick fog that I imagine when I read him. So naturally, I decided to do some drive-by photography. I love a good foggy morning; it makes me feel like Sherlock Holmes. A damp haze like this gives me a craving for a good mystery. For whatever reason, fog pulls on my creative nature. I was feeling pretty inspired and artistic in this dreamy landscape until I passed a big chicken truck that had turned over in the ditch just outside of Natchitoches. That wreck halted my daydreaming and caused me to slow down and give my undivided attention to the road, at least for a little while. Then I began to wonder if any of those chickens made their escape into the mist. I hope they did. I love a good escape story as much as I love a foggy morning. Maybe they took up with the herons in the swamp.

As much as the fog tugs on my imagination, I’m glad that it isn’t foggy all of the time. It can be stressful when you cannot see very far ahead of you. I imagine that’s what happened to that poor truck driver. He probably had to take evasive action to avoid killing someone he only saw at the last split second. Who knows?

The wrecked truck reminded me of something I learned about as a teenager following the progress of Operation Iraqi Freedom in the newspaper; The Fog of War. Originally a German term, it describes how the chaos of battle brings confusion and situational uncertainty to soldiers—and even top brass—who often become disoriented and are unsure of what to do next. I have never been in combat, but I have been in a lot of fog, and I can appreciate the analogy. My cousin Mark got disoriented in the fog on the Coosa River once during a fishing tournament. He navigated his bass boat by GPS right up out of the river and into the woods. I think the problem with disorientation is you don’t know you are disoriented until it is too late.

The vicissitudes of life can put us in a fog. The beauty of that fog and the creativity that it inspires is hardly ever seen in the moment except by the rare longsighted optimists, or the visionaries who are gifts to humanity. The rest of us only see the beauty in hindsight-that is if we make it through. There have been a few-and thank God only a few-truly foggy patches in my life. Times when you can only see as far as the next step and you aren’t fully sure of that; when you have all but lost direction; and when the mist has nearly halted any progress you thought you were making. It may take a while, but eventually we can look back and see the beauty of those times. And, with a twinkle in our eye and compassion in our voice, even recall them with joy and hope, and tell about them to someone going through their own fog.

We are often tossed and driven on the restless seas of time

Somber skies and howling tempests oft succeed the bright sunshine

But in that land of perfect day, when the mist has rolled away

We will understand it better by and by

This fog the other day covered a large swath of Louisiana. A friend who was working on the other side of the State that morning was telling me how foggy it was for him too. I’m glad I wasn’t in it alone. Eventually the fog “burnt off” as he put it, and it turned out to be a bright sunny day. But I’m glad I got these pictures. I didn’t want you to think I was exaggerating.

New Beginnings

I burnt off half of my yard earlier this year. Because I did not want to mow it, I allowed the brush to grow up to the point where I could not mow it. While it is not the only way to tidy up a yard, burning is perhaps the best way to begin a clean start. It is a conflicting feeling to watch the fire take over the yard. The flames will not selectively burn just the overgrown, stubborn weeds that have begun to harden into pithy stalks, it also consumes the tender grass. And then there is the waiting. And in the waiting the questions. How long will this lay waste in ashes? Will it come back?

It does come back. And better.

During The Fire.
After The Fire.

This is a follow up to Controlled Burn.

Church Clothes: An Essay on Discomfort

Do you remember when you were a little kid and your momma would make you wear really uncomfortable clothes to church?

I’m supposed to be packing my church clothes for a Youth Conference that I am attending later this week, but I am procrastinating. This is what I do when I procrastinate: write essays. This essay is about church clothes. Having been going to church for 37 years-and 9 months before that-I have a long and conflicting relationship with church clothes. I was raised-and firmly believe- that you ought to dress your best when going up to the House of The Lord. Whether that is a pair of cowboy boots and your cleanest blue jeans, or a business suit and tie. This is the rub: I really enjoy looking nice in a suit and whatnot, but I also really enjoy being comfortable. And unless you are just the picture of health with a trim figure like a Greek statue, or have you enough money to pay someone to make you a suit of clothes that fit your exact body proportions, there is a strong chance that your suit is just going to be plain uncomfortable.

I’m not convinced that comfort should be the first priority when dressing for church.

Do you remember when you were a little kid and your momma would make you wear really uncomfortable clothes to church? I remember one Easter having to wear a button up shirt and these teal dress pants. I hated them. I looked like I stepped off of page 37 of a JC Penney catalog from 1992. Not only was I required to endure these clothes all through church, but I wasn’t allowed to change until after the egg hunt at Uncle Dave’s. I still think that is how a lot of people feel about dressing for church.

Most of the time, I do not really pay attention to what other people wear. And from a scientific study I did in college on this topic where I wore the same suit and tie for a solid week to see if anyone would say anything, I don’t think most people pay attention either. But it is hard to not notice when someone feels uncomfortable in their clothes. Especially a suit. I used to look out my window at work down at the courthouse steps and watch young men walk unsure of themselves in an ill-fitting suit to a matter of grave concern. You see uncomfortable people at funerals and weddings, their awkward conversations informed by clothes that they don’t really understand how to behave in.

There is a way to wear a suit like a lawyer or like you have a court date.

Here is a people watching experiment for you to try on a Sunday afternoon: go out to eat at the most crowded restaurant you can find right after church. Better yet, go to a buffet. Try to guess which people went to church and which people just decided to go get some Chinese food. It should be easy to tell by what they are wearing. I made a Bingo card for you to fill out.

Suit
&
T-Shirt
Tucked in PoloElderly couple with matching died hairGold-buttoned blazerHebrew letters on an article of clothing
Penny LoafersSuit
&
Tie
PaisleySun dressChurch Logo T-Shirt
Cowboy
boots
Braided
belt
Child in a sailor suitSeersucker“Praise the Lord!”
Greeting
Bow TieWingtip
shoes
“Production Team”
T-Shirt
SuspendersPleated Khakis
High HeelsWestern
Shirt
ComboverChurch Logo
Hat
Square toed dress shoes

Uncomfortable: that is how dressing for church felt until I started paying attention to girls around about Middle School. It was then that I quit depending on Mom to tie my tie and started wanting to pick out my own suits and dress shoes. I think everyone goes through an identity crisis sometime during Middle School. Being interested in dressing yourself, while not knowing how to dress. The real conflict can be articulated thus: I don’t know what I want to wear, but I know it isn’t what Mom has been choosing. It takes a while to realize that your Mom had pretty good taste. Aside from maybe the teal Easter pants.

I got these hickory stripe tuxedo pants from Zach. I don’t know if I ever got cooler than that.
I’m less worried about my clothes and more interested in that guitar that I might’ve should’ve kept. Alas, it didn’t sound near as good as it looked. I suppose there is a lesson to be drawn from that.

Fashion is so fickle. When I was a teenager I probably spent far too much money on dress clothes. Trying to be fashionable, or cool. Some of those clothes are cool again, but probably won’t be for long. I will see teenagers this week at PEAK wearing stuff similar to what I wore 25 years ago.

My sartorial ideals have always been too lofty for my meager salary.

It took me a long-a very long-time to figure out exactly what kind of church clothes (or any clothes for that matter) that I wanted to wear. But Today, I feel that I am closest to my real essence when I am wearing a suit and tie. Ultimately, I think I accidentally took less cues from my peers and current fashion trends and more from history while establishing my wardrobe standards. And it happened by seeing old photographs not necessarily related to fashion from say 1962 or 1937 of a men in suits and realizing I would wear that today. When you take this classic approach, you are making a statement: I’m going to wear this and be confident and comfortable no matter what is trendy. This means that you may or may not be in style as the years pass. But what you will be, is established. And possible timeless. And we need more established people.

Well, I have to go pack.

Apostolic Youth Ministry

The Bible does not contain a youth ministry model separate from adults, children, or elders.

Sarah and I drove from Alabama to Virginia this last weekend to attend the funeral of a man who had been a young person while we were leading youth ministry. Being there and seeing the teenagers-now grown people with families-whom we spent nearly every Friday night of our 20s with brought back a flood of memories. I love those people. And I still recognize a familiar connection that is not easily built with people.

In light of eternity, I am reminded that not everything we can involve ourselves with has equal importance. Not all activities or pursuits weigh the same. There are weighty things like righteousness, temperance, and the judgment to come, that make people uncomfortable to talk about. So they pursue, and try to find purpose in the frivolous and trivial. There is a grave danger in binding your life up in superficial things that have no eternal significance. Coming through The Valley of the Shadow of Death has also caused me to reflect on the eternal weight of glory that was being stored up in youth ministry. There are some things that we do that are far more important than other things. I wholeheartedly believe that Youth ministry is one of the important things that I have ever done.

And as he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix trembled, and answered, Go thy way for this time; when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee. Acts 24:25

In the name of personal development, I have read some superfluous and shallow books on the topic of Youth Ministry.

While there are many books about Youth Ministry, there are not many books about Apostolic Youth Ministry. As an Apostolic Christian, I believe in the Oneness of God, and have obeyed the commandment of the Apostle Peter-the man with the keys to the Kingdom- in Acts 2:38. This distinction-and many others-set Apostolic believers apart from mainstream Christendom. So when a non-Apostolic attempts to write a book on Youth Ministry it fails to address foundational concepts of Apostolic Christianity. To be clear, I make no claims to being an expert in Youth Ministry. Indeed I have made many mistakes. But I did serve for 12 years as a Youth Pastor and for a while now I have felt the gravity of the need to write about Youth Ministry from an Apostolic perspective. So today is a start at the very least.

The Bible does not contain a youth ministry model separate from adults, children, or elders. There are instructions at times to these demographics, but no formula for a church service that is unique to a specific age group. This is something that was largely ignored in the many youth ministry seminars, clinics, and training sessions that I attended in pursuit of excellence. Something else that was never at the forefront of these training was an emphasis on preaching in Youth Ministry. In fact there was often a strong emphasis on teaching in place of preaching. I think this is a mistake. Without doubt it is possible to build something without anointed preaching, but it will not be an Apostolic Youth Ministry.

I stood in front of that casket this past weekend and relived those Friday night youth services from days gone by. It was not the shoestring budget that we operated on, nor whatever trendy teaching series that was in circulation, or any hip stage design that came to mind-all these things are fleeting. It was preaching and the response to preaching that made the difference. At its essence, Apostolic Youth Ministry must contain prayer, and preaching. And not just any prayer and preaching, but the kind of prayer that shakes the house, and the kind of preaching that turns the world upside down.


For after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe.            I Corinthians 1:21

I wrestled with a man nearly all night when I learned that I would be saying something at the funeral. Not because I didn’t know what I would say-God had already told me- but because of how important words are, and how not all moments are created equal. I did not get rest until I had prayed and written this out:

Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword.
Matthew 10:34

Preaching is an offensive action. Its about the most offensive thing that you can endure.
There is no more offensive word than repent. The Word of God is a sharp sword that goes for the jugular. But God chose preaching to save them which believe
.

The law and the prophets were until John: since that time the kingdom of God is preached, and every man presseth into it.
Luke 16:16

Matthew records this same passage in this manner:

And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force.
Matthew 11:12

There is something combative about the Kingdom of God.

When I think of Brandon I first see a skinny little middle school aged boy sweaty from playing basketball before Youth Service on a Friday night. And there was preaching. And I see Brandon now as a teenager at Youth Camp not as sweaty anymore because he is trying to impress Makayla. And there was preaching. I see Brandon every Sunday morning, every Sunday night, and every Wednesday night with his crooked glasses. And There was preaching. And I see Brandon now as a young man of God in his office praying, and listening to preaching.

The preached Word of God speaks to us in our essence, or our full potential in the Spirit world. This is why the angel of the Lord spoke to a cowering Gideon threshing wheat by the wine press as a Mighty Man of Valor.

I watched Brandon look into the mirror of the preached Word of God and see Brandon, the man of God that could be.

Brandon heard the Word preached, mixed it with faith, and pressed his way violently into the Kingdom of God. And as his youth pastor, I watched him wrestle with heavenly potential. I could cheer him on, but it was his fight alone.

And Jacob was left alone; and there wrestled a man with him until the breaking of the day.
Genesis 32:24

I can see Brandon in those altars, alone, without his parents, wrestling with God; the Brandon who Was wrestling with the Brandon Who Could Be.

And I see him grab ahold of God and not let go. I see him wrestle some things to the ground. And I see him walk away, limping, and victorious.

At last I see him by faith, leaning on the top of his staff and worshipping as he died.

Brandon…you are the kind of person that I want to be: a man who died In the Faith.

I never really think about who may read whatever you want to call what I write, until I meet them in person and they tell me. If you are in Youth Ministry today I want to speak directly to you. Have a nice stage. But Preach the Word. Have great music and cool lights. Don’t try to give a TED Talk, Preach the Word.

I charge thee therefore before God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall judge the quick and the dead at his appearing and his kingdom; Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long suffering and doctrine. For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; And they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables. II Timothy 4:1-4