Ministry between the Extremes

Last Sunday marked a record at Woodward Park. 53 persons attending our morning assembly and Bible classes were fed lunch. This every week luncheon has been necessitated by the presence of guests who do not make it back to the Rescue Mission/Poverello House in time for lunch. Thankfully, some of these are now members, but most are guests invited through personal contact as a result of our Downtown homeless outreach.

As I think about our place in Fresno, I struggle with the contradiction. Years ago, some forward-thinking disciples of Jesus invested in property in the sprawling northeast part of the city. It is an ideal place for a suburban church facility on a spacious corner lot along a highly trafficked boulevard. By all visible standards, Woodward Park is ideally situated. Shoot, even the Cricket cell tower, posing as a giant cross, is visible for several blocks in every direction.

And yet, the immediate neighbors to our church building aren't as receptive as the population left behind in the move toward suburbia. The most receptive audience in Fresno, California is downtown, among the marginalized, among the overlooked, among the impoverished. Among those who recognize their needy, as opposed to my own neighbors who by all visible standards, have it all.

Right now, I'm struggling with the challenge God has placed before us. Struggling with offering a viable ministry to those separated not only by miles but by socio-economic class and background. Struggling on how to assimilate those who literally enter a church building for the first time. They don't know our rules. Our customs. Our lingo. Our culture.

The easiest course? To draw on the economic forecast and declare the task too great. Too expensive. To dismiss the endeavor as a good cause, when economic times were more favorable. To walk away from the opportunity because, in counting the cost, the price tag was too great.

But walk away I can't. I can't because no social dictate of Scripture is so loudly declared as the call of justice -- of releasing those oppressed; of feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and ministering to the despised.

"More than 35.5 million Americans -- 12% of the U.S. population and 17% of our children -- don't have enough food, according to the Department of Agriculture. At America's Second Harvest, one of the nation's largest hunger relief organizations, 36% of the 25 million people served live in a household where someone works. 'The working poor increasingly have to choose between rent, electricity, medicine and groceries,' said Ross Fraser of America's Second Harvest. When new hunger figures are released, the numbers will be much worse: a loaf of bread costs 15% more now than at this time last year, and the price of milk has risen 13%" (Parade Magazine, 5/25/2008, p. 8).

Frankly, the real challenge of ministry today is how to engage a middle-class church in suburbia with an impoverished class of receptive people downtown.

How do we assimilate? How do we navigate the divide?

Reverse the Curse!

Were today the day of the 2008 AL MVP vote, he'd win hands-down. There's no challenge he hasn't met...but the SI cover jinx?

It's time for Josh Hamilton to, once again, reverse the curse!

.327 (3rd)/.371 (16th)/.589 (2nd)/12 HR (2nd)/53 RBI (1st)

For the sake of full disclosure, I posted these numbers before the conclusion of Tuesday night's 12-6 Ranger win in Tampa, where the Natural went 2 for 5 with another HR and 5 RBI.

On the heels of Friday's post

"Those who talk a lot are likely to sin. But those who control their tongues are wise" (Proverbs 10.19, NIRV).

And Solomon said, "Amen!"

"The more the words, the less the meaning, and how does that profit anyone" (Ecclesiastes 6.11)?

Referred to in a general sense as "the Preacher," the wisest man who ever lived, King Solomon has some sage preaching advice.

Keep it short.

There's power in a smaller economy of words.

Back during my two summer internship with Dale Mannon in West Virginia, our running debate had to do with sermon length. At that time, I argued for no more than 25 minutes. Dale believed a sermon didn't get good until the 30 minute mark.

So you can imagine my surprise when I began to notice, courtesy of Greenlawn's podcasts, that my mentor was consistently preaching no more than 25 minutes these days.

"What happened?" I asked in an email. "Better editing," he replied.

Maybe we've made preaching so much the centerpiece of worship -- to the detriment of time at the table, among others -- that shorter sermons might result in expanded emphasis elsewhere. In acts of worship that deserve greater attention, i.e. the public reading of Scripture, the collective chorus of praise sung to God, and certainly, the corporate communion that calls our minds and memories to the life-giving blood of the Lamb.

So, taking a cue from my mentor, I'm going to attempt to do a better job editing.

More precision.

Less words.

Greater impact.

And Solomon said, "Amen!"

Erick Boggs

When my family and I moved to Fresno, one family in particular reached out to us with special hospitality. Erick and Heidi Boggs, and their children Macee and Colton, have been very dear friends to us. Erick and I have shared a special love for SEC football, high school football, baseball and turkey hunting. So many of our recreational interests mirror each other that a close friendship was inevitable.

Unfortunately for us, Erick and Heidi and kids are relocating to Birmingham, Alabama. Yesterday afternoon, Erick flew into Burbank from a trip to Alabama and I had the good fortune of picking him up. With the Dodgers in town, we decided to have a final blast together as we watched the Dodgers defeat the Reds, 4-1.

The history of the Dodgers is really interesting. I have enjoyed investing much of my baseball reading this year on the fascinating Dodger history, specifically Brooklyn Dodger history. This mural of Jackie Robinson, the only player to have his uniform number universally retired throughout MLB, rims the exterior of Dodger Stadium.

It's hard to see in this sized picture, but the inimitable one, Vin Scully, is seated in his pressbox preparing the call the action solo as he does each night. Look for the redhead two booths to the left of the 790-KABC sign.

Ultimately, Erick and I had a great time together visiting about the past and the future. He is launching out with his family into an unknown future in new territory, but he does so supported and strengthened by the capable leading of a loving Father.

Erick, I'll miss you, as a friend, a brother, and a confidant. Thanks for your friendship. Good luck in your new turkey hunting quarters...but bad luck to the Crimson Tide!

Pictures Galore

Thanks to the stolen laptop, it's been awhile since I've been able to show off any new pictures. These two have to go down as two of my all-time favorites! Hard to believe, but this backdrop in Yosemite is just shy of two hours' drive from our doorstep. We spent a day in Yosemite when my mom was here back in April. You can double-click any of the thumbnails to get a full screen view and these first two are simply breathtaking (for you non-Central Valley folks, be sure to notice Bridal Veil Falls on the far right side of the screen).
Last Thursday, Tori, Mandy and I surprised Trae by showing up in her classroom 30 minutes before the end of the day with a cupcake-cake for her buddies. As you can tell, she was memerized by it all!
For her birthday, Trae invited some friends to Color Me Mine, a pottery store in Riverpark where you can select a piece and then put an artistic touch to it. I think all the girls picked out a coffee mug which they decorated for their moms. Following the art work, Mandy took the girls to see Prince Caspian.
While big sis and friends were at the theater, lil sis enjoyed herself at Hannah Holcomb's birthday bash. All told, last weekend saw three birthday parties, two graduation parties, one sleepover, one softball game, and a whole lot of memorable times.

For me, one of the real highlights of last weekend was the opportunity to honor 13 Woodward Park'ers from the Class of 2008. Mike Avedikian, Grady Lane, and Company put together one of the neatest video celebrations to the graduates you'll ever see, complete with words of advice and love from each of their parents.

A Birthday...Tempered

Thursday was a fine day for our family. We celebrated Trae's 10th birthday in a number of fun, memorable ways. As she told us on the way to Toys-R-Us for some gift-card shopping, "I'll never have another single-digit birthday again."

Ouch! Thanks for the reality check.

But the joy of Trae's tenth birthday was a bit tempered by the decision of the State of California Supreme Court to overturn the ban on homosexual unions as legally valid marriages. Thirty days from yesterday, same-sex "marriages" will be recognized as valid in California.

Last night as I tried to catch some commentary on the decision, I heard one talking head liken the decision to the then-progressive decision of the State of California to legalize inter-racial marriage in 1948.

Are you kidding me?

How in the name of common sense can any corollary be drawn between the union of one man and one woman, though of different ethnic backgrounds, with a union of man and man or woman and woman? There is no comparison to be made in that argument and it is pure frivolity to suggest as much.

Frankly, I am not angry. And I am certainly not surprised. What I am is sad; sad that the authorities in the great state of California now home to my girls and me has taken upon itself to render God's authority baseless. The tentacles of this moral compromise and its potential effect into the future saddens me.

Thankfully, we've been spending our Sunday mornings this year at Woodward Park in the book of Genesis and God's basic instructions for life. The issues that stump our culture -- issues like "what is a marriage?" -- are so clearly defined in the book of Genesis that it truly renders any debate superfluous.

The courts might seek to redefine marriage. The talking heads might seek to justify the redefinition. But God has spoken, in the infancy of creation at the first ceremony of mankind, declaring, "a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh" (Genesis 2.24).

Call it childish, legendary antiquity if you wish (as an Albert Einstein letter auctioned off this week in London implied). Call it an outdated relic if you'd like.
But I will take my stand and teach the truth of God's Word as the standard, independent of human debate and human deconstruction.

Happy Birthday, Trae-Girl

Dear Trae,

The man credited with being the wisest to ever walk the earth, King Solomon, once wrote, "children are a reward from the Lord" (Psalm 127.3). What Solomon didn't realize, when he wrote those words some 3000 years ago, is how much his words would come true in the life of your mom and dad thanks to your presence.

Ten years ago today, at 3:15 p.m., your mother and I welcomed you into the world. I can remember the moment like it was yesterday. I remember so well the tears of joy that flooded the room as you made your grand, if not boisterous entrance, into the world. And I can remember so well Dr. Bailey saying, "Hey, this is a happy day! Why are you all crying?"

The tears captured on the video of your birth-day evidence the fact that your mom and I couldn't believe how lucky and blessed we were to see you and hold you. How blessed could a brand-new mom and dad be than to have YOU sent from God as a gift, as a reward from him?

Since that day, the preciousness and beauty of the gift that is you has only grown with time.

Your mom and I treasure the memory of every recital, every softball game, every school production, every church VBS. We treasure every celebration because of a good report card or test score or achievement on horseback. We even celebrate every spanking (can I actually put that out there?), every grounding, and every uncomfortable discussion brought on by a less-than-wise choice. Every moment has been a moment to savor, a moment to celebrate, a moment to revel in the reality that you remain our special gift from God. Sure, we look forward to the woman you will become, but we savor every moment of this journey with you.

Today, you reach a milestone on your journey through life -- Birthday #10.

Wow! Where did the time go?

Undoubtedly, the next ten years promise a whole host of new memories, challenges and opportunities in your life. You've faced so many challenges in your young life with great courage and I have no reason to doubt your future will be any different! Baptism is right around the corner in your life. I am longing and praying for that moment -- for your "new birth" into Jesus. Junior High and High School lay out ahead. Before you know it, you'll be walking across a stage in a cap and gown. Over half of your time under our roof is now history and I want you to know, that as your daddy, I am going to savor every day. Every minute. Because you are a reward, a gift that only grows sweeter with each day.

Happy 10th Birthday, Sweetheart. I Love You So Much!

Dad

A New Friend

Later this year, my dear friend and mentor, Rick Northen, and I will journey to the East Coast to spend some time in Cooperstown, New York at the National Baseball Hall of Fame, followed by a couple of Rangers' games in New York and Baltimore.

Two weeks ago, Rick emailed me from Cambodia, wanting to know how the Rangers were looking (he and Gail are in transit, due to arrive at D-FW on Thursday night so they can catch the Friday Rangers/Astros Lone Star series opener with their kids). In all honesty, at that time, I told him the Rangers weren't worth seeing.

What a difference two weeks can make.

Thanks to Tuesday evening's 5-2 win over the hapless Mariners, the Rangers have now done something the franchise hasn't done since 1999 -- win six consecutive series. They've now won 11 of the last 14, 7 of their last 8, and have taken back-to-back-to-back series' from the Mariners and the Athletics.

It is frustrating to think what would've been with Chris Young, Edinson Volquez, Armando Galarraga and John Danks in the rotation with some combination of Carlos Pena, Mark Teixeira, and Adrian Gonzalez in the lineup.

But who's complaining? The beloved Rangers are now just one under and 3 1/2 back!

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On Tuesday morning, I had breakfast with Derek. Derek is a long-time Internet friend, thanks to our shared passion for all things Arkansas Razorback. Derek and I became acquainted through Hogville.net since Derek was born a Fresnan, raised in Waldron, Arkansas, and now lives in Jackson, Tennessee.

What made breakfast with Derek especially engaging, and challenging, is the fact that Derek is deaf. A disease producing tumors attacked Derek's body beginning in 1998. The first tumor resulted in total hearing loss in one ear. In 2004, tumors attacked the other ear, rendering Derek completely deaf. Consequently, Derek returns to the Valley annually for visits with his doctor/surgeon.

So, over breakfast at B.J.'s Kountry Kitchen, I tried out my rudimentary ASL skills while Derek honed his burgeoning lip reading skills. It wasn't smooth, but the aim of our meeting was achieved. We shared. We laughed. We joked. And we both left knowing we'd each made a new friend.

Megan Clanton just happened to blog on Monday about her insights into communication via her own personal experiences with the Deaf community and ASL. It is a wise insight, in a blog entry entitled "Listening to Silence," that captured the essence of my breakfast with Derek.

"The value of words never appeared so significant to me until the day I found myself sitting in a small pizza shop with over thirty people engaged in rapid dialogue, and I remained clueless as to the content of the conversations. The unusual quietness of the room paradoxed the vivacious atmosphere, and my sister, father and I just looked at one another. Somewhere in the flurry of gestures was my mother, the only one of the four of us who knows sign language, the reason we were at a dinner for the deaf.

Through the deaf, I have learned more about language, about words, than any upper-level English class could teach me. Words are not simply audible syllables of the voice; words live, move and, worked in a precise way, flow together to convey the entirety of human experience. The spirit behind and embodied in communication has never been as apparent to me as in sign language. Like many languages, a slight shift changes a word. With the movement of fingers “shine” becomes “shimmer.” With the direction of the palms “darkness” becomes “fear.” Signs such as “strength” and “power” are interchangeable in dialogue. ASL is a language where every word displays its life: “forever” and “heaven” carry themselves to eternity; “friends” connect as its meaning implies.

The last several years of watching the fluent, graceful conversations between the signers and my own rudimentary attempts at the language taught me to know and appreciate communication as more than auditory expressions. Simple phrases like “God is love” and “Lord of my life” demand attention in ASL when they are often overlooked or taken for granted in English. Each word is not merely said, it must be felt as it is carried out to completeness.

I once thought that if I lost my voice, I would lose my identity. I would know myself, but how could anyone else? Through talking to those who cannot hear and listening to those who do not speak, I discovered the power of words beyond the limited capacities of the auditory language both to depict who I am and how I see the world surrounding me. Perhaps it would not be too terrible to lose my voice someday. Rather than losing one language, I would gain another—and a deeper understanding of communication as something between hearts, not ears."

Acapella iTunes Radio

Gotta give this one up to my old pal Jimmy Mitchell. Jimmy turned me onto to the 24/7 Acapella channel on iTunes. Now, I may be the last person on the planet to know the channel existed but it is wonderful! To find it on iTunes, go to Radio, then Religious, then Acapella (1.FM TM).

It is not only uplifting and encouraging, but a memorable blast of Tulsa Workshops, of Harding Uplifts, even Pleasant Home singings.

Give it a listen and if able, put it on in the background while you work. It is inspiring and refreshing.

Sunrise Senior Living Servants

Had to get a quick hit in on something really special that just happened. Jane Hall, a member at Woodward Park, works in the Alzheimer's Care wing of Sunrise Senior Living Center of Fresno. Jane birthed a wonderful idea to partner the residents there with our downtown homeless outreach.

Since its inception, our homeless outreach has operated solely on outside donations. There is no in-house funding for this ministry. So, offers like the one from Jane on behalf of the Sunrise residents are never turned away.

Anyway, the residents worked in assembly-line fashion this morning to prepare nearly 200 sandwiches for distribution downtown. We'll have a crew downtown tomorrow handing out the sandwiches to those in need. And as an added bonus, a crew from CBS 47 in Fresno was on hand this morning to video the residents at work. Be sure and tune in to KGPE-CBS 47 this evening.

During their lunch, Cedric Rowe, Roland Hendrix, and myself visited with the residents, thanking them for their effort. Hopefully, this is the beginning of a new partnership to seek, to save, and to serve.

Have a great weekend!

Andy and Ashley Frizzell

The cat's been out of the bag for a couple of weeks now, but Woodward Park is blessed with the pending addition of Andy and Ashley Frizzell. Andy has accepted an offer from our Elders to join our Ministry Staff as Youth and Family Minister. Their plans are to move to Fresno on August 1.

Andy and Ashley come from great backgrounds. Ashley's dad, Keith Parker, is the Preaching Ministry for the 1400-member Hendersonville, TN. Church of Christ while Andy's dad, Tim Frizzell, is the Youth Minister for the 1200-member Crieve Hall Church of Christ in Nashville. Interestingly, Andy's dad has been in full-time Youth Ministry for 26 years so Andy, literally, has a lifetime of Youth Ministry experience!

Andy received his B.A. in Bible from Freed-Hardeman with minors in History and Youth Ministry. While at Freed, Andy served on the University Program Council, was a member of the Campus Delegate Team, served as Chaplain, Vice-President and President of Chi Beta Chi social club, and was recognized as Mr. FHU his senior year.

Andy has served internships at Crieve Hall, Concord Road, Southern Hills and Mount Juliet churches of Christ. During his senior year at FHU, he led the college ministry at the Bethel Springs Church of Christ. Andy has participated on mission trips in nine different states and three foreign countries. Most recently, Andy served as the Youth Minister for the Willow Avenue Church of Christ in Cookeville, Tennessee.

I am very, very excited about Andy and Ashley's move to Fresno. Together, they are going to enhance our ministry to teens and their families. I am excited about the future -- about discovering all God has in store through Andy's ministry among us.

Favorite Hymn

Last night, the girls and I were blessed with dinner and fellowship with a true Christian gentleman, Dr. Ken O'Brien. As we visited in our home following dinner, a discussion started about hymns. The discussion was prompted from a mild disagreement betweeen Doc and I over a hymn sung at the close of a funeral service on Monday. The congregation was led in "Now the Day is Over." I shared with Doc how depressing that song was to me -- he, on the other hand, found the hymn to be ideal because of its truth and its tune.

All this got me thinking about our hymns and our taste for hymns and even how generational difference impact our perception of a "good" hymn from a "not-so-good" hymn.

So, what is your favorite hymn? Why? Let's have a little audience participation today. You can send me your replies at jim@wpcoc.com. I'll look forward to receiving feedback from you throughout today regarding your favorite hymn.

For me, it's hard to do much better than these words penned by Mrs. Frances Havergal way back in 1871:

"Is it for me, dear Savior,
Thy glory and Thy rest
For me, so weak and sinful!
O shall I be so blessed?

Is it for me, Thy welcome,
Thy gracious 'Enter in'
For me Thy 'Come ye blessed,'
For me so full of sin?

O Savior, precious Savior,
My heart is at Thy feet;
I bless Thee and I love Thee,
And Thee I long to meet.

I'll be with Thee forever,
And never grieve Thee more;
Dear Savior, I must praise Thee,
And love Thee evermore.

O Savior, my Redeemer,
What can I but adore,
And magnify and praise Thee,
And love Thee evermore?

Judge Not

I was shocked, confused, bewildered
As I entered Heaven's door,
Not by the beauty of it all,
Not the lights or its decor.

But it was all the folks in heaven
who made me sputter and gasp --
The thieves, the liars, the sinners,
The alcoholics, the trash.

There stood the kid from seventh grade
Who swiped my lunch money twice.
Next to him was my old neighbor
Who never said anything nice.

Herb, who I always thought
Was rotting away in hell,
Was sitting pretty on Cloud-Nine,
Looking incredibly well.

I nudged Jesus, "What's the deal?
I would love to hear your take.
How'd all these sinners get up here?
God must've made a mistake!"

"And, why is everyone so quiet?
So somber? Give me a clue."
"Hush, child," said He, "they're all in shock.
No one thought they'd be seeing you."

--Unknown

The Culture of Narcissism

When the mail arrived yesterday morning, I realized again how blessed by God I am with such wonderful friends. Cory and Joelle, friends from San Luis Obispo, read about my stolen laptop and burned a CD with pictures of the girls and me from their wedding last summer at Mare Island.

The silver lining of it all is I now have some pictorial memories on my new laptop that I didn't even have on my old laptop!

Thanks, Cory and Joelle. And Suzi, the Woodward Park paparazzi. And everyone else who has shared pictures with us. You all are great, great blessings in our lives!

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Here's three really intriguing paragraphs from Christopher Lasch's book The Culture of Narcissism. It's amazing how cyclical life is, when you weigh Lasch's analysis of our narcissistic culture against the root causes of the Fall. As I continue to study Genesis 3, I continue to be amazed at how much of our current culture mirrors the very basic deceptions of Satan in the Garden.

Regarding consumerism: "In a simpler time, advertising merely called attention to the product and extolled its advantages. Now if manufactures a product of its own: the consumer, perpetually unsatisfied, restless, anxious, and bored. It educates the masses into an unappeasable appetite not only for goods but for new experiences and personal fulfillment. It upholds consumption as the answer to the age-old discontents of loneliness, sickness, weariness, lack of sexual satisfaction; at the same time it creates new forms of discontent peculiar to the modern age. It plays seductively to the malaise of industrial civilization. Is your job boring and meaningless? Is your life empty? Consumption promises to fill the aching void" (72).

Regarding generational transfer: "Wisdom is one of the few comforts of age...The real value of the accumulated wisdom of a lifetime is that it can be handed on to future generations. Our society, however, has lost this conception of wisdom and knowledge. It holds an instrumental view of knowledge, according to which technological change constantly renders knowledge obsolete and therefore nontransferable. The older generation has nothing to teach the younger...except to equip it with the emotional and intellectual resources to make its own choices and to deal with unstructured situations for which there are no reliable precedents or precepts" (212).

Regarding aging: "The prolongevity movement (the desire to live long for the sake of living long)...arises not as a natural response to medical improvements that have prolonged life expectancy but from changing social relations and social attitudes, which cause people to lose interest in the young and in posterity, to cling desperately to their own youth, to seek by every possible means to prolong their own lives, and to make way only with the greatest reluctance for new generations...The dread of age originates not in a cult of youth but in a cult of the self" (216-7).