A Book of Funerals

Most of you know that my father died a few months ago.  The process of tying up loose ends often requires going through memorabilia and papers.  My father left an old briefcase with my name taped to the front so I brought it home to see what he wanted me to have.  I was not surprised as I rummaged through the papers.  I found a stack of sermon notes, old business cards, a collection of funeral notices, and other miscellaneous papers.  There was also a notebook and two small journal type books.

The notebook, which my father had shown me a couple of times previously, contained a listing of all the people he had baptized and had joined the churches where he was pastor.  It is quite an impressive list.  A little over a year ago Daddy and I had a good time reading over the names and remembering the folks who had been touched by his ministry.  There was also a journal listing all of the weddings my father had officiated during his ministry.

However, the item that really captured my attention was another journal type book.  The book has a dark red, imitation leather-type cover, embossed with gold lettering and the words, “Pastor’s Record of Funerals.”  I don’t know if pastors still keep these books with the advent of computers, but it was common practice back in the day.  In fact, I personally have a similar book stashed away somewhere on the shelves of books in my office.

It appears that it was purchased in about 1954 at the cost of $1.00.  It has held up well for nearly six decades.  The book lists 118 funerals my father led between January of 1954 and the summer of 2011.  The very first funeral was for Doris Turner who died of a heart attack.  Although she was born in Wichita, Kansas, Doris was buried in Eads, Colorado, where Daddy was the pastor.  Eads was a small town in the southeastern corner of Colorado and during his four year stay, I suspect Daddy did most of the funerals for folks in Eads, Kit Carson, and Wild Horse, Colorado.  The fifteen people in attendance heard his first funeral sermon titled, “Death of a Friend.”

It appears that 1954 was a good year for dying in eastern Colorado as Daddy did eight more funerals that same year.  That is a sizable number for that sparsely populated corner of the world.  In August of that summer, Daddy did funerals, exactly one week apart, for two people who died from food poisoning.  This is the first I have heard of that event.  It makes me wonder if it was the talk of our little town. He also had back to back funerals for infants, not even listing first names other than “baby.”  I imagine it was a very difficult year to be a pastor.

Can the Media Actually Kill Someone?

The phrase “legendary football coach Joe Paterno” has been written and spoken an innumerable number of times in the past few months.  The reason it has been used so often is because there is no better descriptor to put on the man who coached football at Penn State University for forty-four years, the longest tenure of any coach in college football history.  His first year was 1966 when I was just a teenager and a big college football fan.  It is probable that I would have never heard of Penn State University if not for Joe Paterno.  I never did a lot of cheering for a football team from Pennsylvania but everything I knew of the coach was that he was a great man, strong leader, and known for his integrity.

Joe Paterno died this past weekend.  The death certificate will note the cause of death as lung cancer or some other malady associated with the disease.  He had struggled with cancer for a long time.  But, neither his coaching nor his death has been the cause of so many newspaper headlines the past few months. 

The legendary coach got caught up in a scandal involving one of his assistants who allegedly assaulted young boys.  The reports indicate that Paterno was informed of the indiscretions by an eye witness.  Apparently Paterno did what he thought was the right thing and reported the situation to his superiors.  The problem was that his superiors did nothing.  With the value of hindsight, many now blame Paterno for not being more aggressive.  When all of this became public late in last year’s football season, the University fired Coach Paterno and he has been severely criticized by countless folks in the media.

Needless to say, Paterno’s death this past weekend has been big news and the media is looking for comments from everyone who might have an opinion.  One of his ex-players was asked to comment and he said that although the coach had cancer, he really died of a broken heart.  He went on to blame the University that chose to push the blame onto the coach and the media.

It caused me to wonder if it is possible for the media to actually kill someone.

Having Sex at Church

I have been involved with church work my entire life, which has turned out to be quite a long time.  There are times when I think I have seen just about everything there is to see about the church.  One time I heard a preacher sing his entire sermon, every word, like a Broadway musical, only not very good singing.  I have seen people fall in the baptistery, trip and stumble while entering the choir loft, and just about every other kind of pratfall you can imagine.  I have been served Gold Fish and chicken noodle soup for communion and eaten unidentifiable stuff at a church supper.  If I really tax my memory, I could make a list several pages long of unusual things I have witnessed at church.

It all pales in comparison to what is happening just down the road from me later in the week.  Normally I would not mention the name of the person involved in such an embarrassing event, but he is going to great lengths to make sure folks know about it, so I will help him out.  Ed Young of Fellowship Church and his wife are scheduled to climb up to the roof of their church building in Grapevine and spend twenty-four hours together in bed.  I don’t know why there is a bed on the church roof but apparently it is there.

In a stunt reminiscent of flag pole sitting from early in the 20th century, Ed and his wife will be spending twenty-four hours in the bed.  Alvin “Shipwreck” Kelly originated flag pole sitting and his initial foray lasted thirteen hours and thirteen minutes, far short of the twenty-four hours of non-stop sex planned by the Youngs.  Unlike Kelly in 1924, the Youngs plan to broadcast their adventure live on the Internet.

All of this is carefully orchestrated to coincide with the release of Ed Young’s latest book, “Sexperiment.”  It seems this is nothing more than a marketing stunt to drive customers to Amazon where they can purchase the book for $21.95.  As usual, it’s all about the money.  Don’t we have a term for those who use sex for money?

Young is more than fifty years old so he might need to get a prescription for Viagra before making that climb to the church roof.  Hey, we might get the pharmaceutical company to sponsor the event and generate an even bigger payday.  After all, God wants us to have good sex.  In Young’s own words, sex is about “recreation and enjoyment.” It seems only natural that God would approve of popping a couple of little blue pills to heighten the enjoyment.  I hope they have a doctor on call in case he has one of those four hour problems.

Scoring Touchdowns for Jesus

I am not a huge football fan. Normally, I don’t even follow football until after the World Series and even then I prefer to watch basketball.  Since the basketball season is late getting started this year, I have watched a few more football games than normal.  It wasn’t that long ago that I was a big football fan.  I kept up with all the major college teams and I knew the foremost players on each NFL team.  I’m not sure that I can even name a dozen professional football players now.

My passion for the game changed on Sunday afternoon, January 31, 1999, at the end of Super Bowl XXXIII in Miami.  John Elway led the Denver Broncos to their second straight championship and after that game I decided I had everything I wanted from football.  I was satisfied.  The Broncos, the team I had supported since they were organized in 1960, had given me everything I desired from the game.  If you doubt that I was a Bronco fan for so long, look up the names Frank Tripuka, Lionel Taylor, Cookie Gilchrest, or Floyd Little.  I can tell you all about those guys without having to look it up. 

Since that notable Sunday I have had only a very passing interest in football.  I do know the Broncos have done very little since that Super Bowl victory.  I don’t know for sure, but it seems that they have gotten successively worse each year.  It doesn’t matter though, my football cup is full.

Yet, there has been something about the Denver Broncos this year that has caught my attention.  Apparently it has captured the attention of football fans all over the place.  They have a young quarterback, Tim Tebow, who football experts claim is not a very good quarterback.  To be honest, the Broncos having a not so good quarterback is nothing unusual.  Other than John Elway that’s the only kind of quarterback they have ever had.

The interesting thing about this Tebow fellow is that in spite of his football flaws, he leads the team to victory almost every week.  To hear the experts talk, if you listed all his weakness in one column and all his strengths in the other, it would be very one-sided.  The only thing under strengths would be the fact that for some reason his team wins. It doesn’t look good, the football is sloppy, the score is always close, but at the end of the game, the scoreboard shows that his team has the most points.  Go figure!

A Eulogy for My Father

About a dozen years ago on the evening of the Fourth of July, I was sitting with my father at a picnic.  The entire extended family was there at the Glorieta Conference Center near Santa Fe, New Mexico.  Because of the holiday, the conference leaders choose to have a barbeque picnic with patriotic music and festivities, honoring our nation.  I was especially proud when they had members of the various military branches stand up.  When they called for the Marines to stand, I helped steady my father’s portable lawn chair as he stood proud.

As he aged, it was more and more difficult for Daddy to stand up straight, but on this particular occasion he was as tall as I remembered when I was a kid. Daddy’s size was something that always impressed me.  I don’t know if it was because I was so small and weak, but I considered him to be the strongest man around.  As young children, I remember both Linda and I trying to arm wrestle him but we could never even move his strong right arm.

It is not surprising that when it comes to remembering and honoring his life, strength is the first thing that comes to mind.  Not only did Daddy stand strong, but he was the source of strength for so many other people.

It is hard to comprehend the amount of courage he possessed as he and his fellow Marines stormed the beaches of Iwo Jima. On that seemingly inconsequential volcano in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, he suffered a loss that forever changed his life and impacted the lives of everyone who knew him.  A mortar blast led to the eventual amputation of his right leg and one of the defining moments of his life.

More than three years in and out of the hospital, a tragic automobile accident in downtown Amarillo, a tornado ravaging their home just a few days after Linda’s birth, the emotional struggle of dealing with the devastating effects of polio on his oldest son – none of these events deterred him, they only served to give him additional strength.

Daddy loved his family but he loved the church even more.  I don’t say that with regret or condemnation.  Serving the church was his life.  He heard God’s call to the ministry in 1951 when he had a wife and two very young children, no education, no experience, and no money.  He went off to college but he didn’t have time to finish before God led him to pastor a little church in a nondescript town in southeastern Colorado.

He gathered that small congregation in an auto garage.  He joked more than once that they were the only church in town with a grease rack.  Daddy went to work repairing shoes, a task he knew nothing about, but it was an opportunity to supplement the meager income from preaching. He built that church into a strong congregation and as far as I know it still stands today, sixty years later.

I Might Have Just Experienced a Medical Breakthrough

Normally I wouldn’t write about this subject but it raises an interesting question in my mind that I don’t know how to answer.  I guess I can categorize it under stewardship so it can be classified as something I typically discuss.  It begins with an experience.

A few months ago my right elbow started causing me a great deal of pain when I had to use it for anything significant.  As you probably know, I spent the majority of my life walking on crutches and now using a wheelchair since my legs have never worked properly.  The consequence is that my arms and shoulders have endured more than their share of wear and tear.  The elbow in question is the one I have used for years to help me stand up and to transfer from one seat to another.  To say the least, it has endured a lot of use, so I was not surprised when it began to hurt.

For several years my father has had a painful knee and has gone through the typical pain shots and medications.  Like many people with a worn out knee, he was told the only treatment left was a knee replacement.  He was actually in the process of scheduling surgery when he stumbled upon an alternative.  A clinic near his house advertised an option.  He investigated and was told a series of shots into his knee would eliminate the pain.  Having nothing to lose other than the six hundred dollars for the shots, he gave it a try. 

By the way, the clinic even offered to refund his money if it did not work.  Try to run that one past an orthopedic surgeon.  The procedure is not covered by Medicare.

Within a week his knee began to feel better.  By the time he had the second shot at the end of two weeks, the pain was almost gone.  It has now been several months and he is pain free.  I’ll be honest.  When he told me on the phone that he was going to try the shots, I was skeptical.  However, I know he was not eager to have knee replacement surgery (he only has one leg by the way) so I encouraged him to give it a try.  The six hundred dollars was not going to cause him financial difficulties.

He called and suggested that I find a doctor nearby who could do the same thing for my elbow.  Daddy even offered to pay for the treatments.  Why not?  Nothing to lose.  So, I went online, did some basic research, and found a local doctor who offered the treatments.  I scheduled an appointment in hopes I might experience the same thing.

Home on the Range

Last month Sharon and I celebrated our birthdays.  This month we celebrate (not really, more like remember) another significant event in our lives.  It was thirty-two years ago that we moved to Texas.  It was actually the second time we had moved to the state.  The first time was in January of 1972.  We both transferred to the same college in West Texas but we were not married or even dating at the time.  However, we did not stay, living in both Kentucky and Colorado after college.  It was in November of 1979 that we moved to Texas for what appears to be a permanent stay. 

I was not a stranger to Texas at the time.  Obviously I don’t remember it, but I was actually born in Texas and we moved to Colorado when I was just two years old.  Every year we made a trip to visit relatives so I was comfortable with the Lone Star State.  Having spent most of my adulthood here, I have learned there are some advantages and disadvantages to living in this place.

Advantages:

• The greatest people in the world.  I have not been to every place in the world but I know that Texas people are the kindest, friendliest people that I have ever been around.  This is especially true when you get out in the country and small towns.  Driving down the highway in West Texas, most people wave at oncoming vehicles, even complete strangers.  Even in the big cities, Texas people are very cordial.
• Abundance of room.  Most people in Texas have yards and the houses are larger than in many other places, especially in the cities.  I have been to Boston, Chicago, and New York and seen how people stack up and live on top of one another.  Texas is not close to running out of space.  There are places where you can drive for miles and see very little evidence of other human beings.  In fact, in south Texas there are entire counties that don’t have enough residents to populate a small town.  In the Texas panhandle where we lived for thirteen years, our school district, which covered hundreds of square miles, only had about seventy-five students total.
• Beautiful sunsets.  I suspect the same is true with sunrises but I seldom get up in time to notice.  Sunsets are especially magnificent in the wide open spaces where there are no buildings or trees to block the horizon.
• Good economy.  I don’t know all of the reasons (I’m not an economist) but it seems that many of the economic problems that plague the rest of the nation are not as severe in Texas.  You can still purchase a nice house at a decent price.
• The state legislature is only in session every other year.  This limits the amount of time they have to screw things up, although they do work hard at it.

Disadvantages:

• Dallas Cowboys!  I came to my distaste for the Cowboys while living in Colorado.  To be honest, it is not so much a dislike for the team as it is for the fact that they have so many obnoxious fans.  “America’s Team!”  Really?  The problem is that so many folks here actually believe that.
• Dearth of scenery.  Perhaps it is not a fair comparison since the other two states I have lived in are Colorado and Kentucky, but there is very little natural beauty in this state.  There are a few spots where you might get a quick glimpse of something magnificent if the sun is just right, but nothing like the majestic Rocky Mountains or the rolling hills and fall foliage.  There are actually people who claim that the wide open spaces with nothing to see are beautiful – imagine that.
• Lack of anything for tourists to do.  When out of state visitors come for a visit, once they have been to Six Flags and Dealey Plaza where Kennedy was shot, that pretty much covers the major tourist attractions.  If you like country music then you can always go to Billy Bob’s.

I have lived in Texas for more than half my life.  There is not another place I want to be at this point.  Every place has advantages and disadvantages and I am comfortable with the ones here.  I have had an overabundance of memorable experiences in Texas, most of them very good memories.  I certainly don’t plan to spend another thirty-two years here, but no matter how long God allows, I do feel home on the range.

Take It to the Streets

After graduating from high school in the summer of 1968, I spent my first two years of college on the campus of a brand new junior college in Denver.  It was a great time for a young man to be in college, because if you were not a student it probably meant a trip to Vietnam.  Many of my high school friends were drafted and a few did not return from Southeast Asia.  It seemed that every newscast and newspaper began with a story about an increasingly unpopular war.

Because of the times, one of the frequent occurrences on our college campus was organized war protests.  At least every Friday afternoon and occasionally one or two weekdays there were students holding signs gathered around a speaker with an electronic megaphone and a lot of chanting.  Sometimes, the protests got a little frisky because there was a sizable number of Vietnam veterans on campus who were not very sympathetic to the protestors.  It was a small campus so no more than one or two policemen were required to keep things calm.

Protesting is something I have always understood.  I have seldom been shy about speaking up when I disagree or sense the need for a change.  Organizing a protest has proven to be very effective at times.  It is a way for a powerless minority to gain a hearing and make a point.  If you don’t think that protesting can be a good thing, try telling that to the organizers of the Boston Tea Party or to my college contemporaries who expedited an end to the Vietnam War.

Beginning on September 17 of this year, a movement called “Occupy Wall Street” was launched.  The purpose was to protest the influence of corporate America on government decisions.  It was also intended to call attention to the growing disparity between the affluent and the rest of us.  Within a month, the protest that began in New York City, spread to seventy major cities and six hundred communities around the country.

During the past month there has been a great deal of discussion about the efficacy of the Occupy Movement.  It has not always been clear what they are protesting or if the protestors have specific goals in mind.  But, I do support their right and willingness to stand up to something they consider important.  Certainly I do not condone any violence but it seems that violence eventually becomes a part of any protest – remember Kent State, Mississippi in 1964, and the American Revolution.

Do We Love God When We Hate the Things He Hates?

I had a great night a few evenings back in several ways.  The most obvious is that the Texas Rangers were the victors in one of the most exciting baseball games I have seen in a long time.  I was glued to the television for the entire game, wandering into the other room only during commercials, precipitated by pitching changes and inning breaks.  When the game was finally decided with a grand slam it was a grand time at our house.

Sharon settled in the leather easy chair in front of the television for the last few innings and watched the game with me.  She is patient with my restlessness during a tense game and is very kind not to except much in the way of conversation.  Over the years she has developed an appreciation for the game and even a pretty good understanding of some of the finer nuances.

To be honest, Sharon has been much more supportive of my diversions than I have of hers.  I think she actually enjoys attending a ballgame occasionally and never hesitates when I want to go but have no other partner.  I’m not nearly as accommodating when it comes to musicals and live plays.  I have gone a few times but not as willingly as her acceptance of a baseball game.

The memorable part of the evening occurred after the game, out on the driveway in front of our house.  My van had a small water leak so I called Matthew, my son and favorite mechanic, to see if he could help.  He showed up after the game and as I held the flashlight, he found the problem.  It was a leaky housing for the thermostat, not a major job if you know what you are doing – I don’t. 

Matthew arrived at the auto parts store just as they were closing, talked his way inside and secured the necessary parts.  As he worked on the van and I provided moral support, Jeremy, my oldest son, drove up.  The talk quickly turned to the baseball game.  Jeremy had been able to watch the game and Matthew had listened to it on the radio.  We had a great time sharing about the ups and downs of the game and the joy of the final victory.  We even talked about some of the strategy during the game and made suggestions on what would have worked better.  You know how fans always know what the manager should have done.

It is interesting that the boys have developed a real love for the game of baseball in the past few years.  We always enjoyed games together when they were young, and they both played little league for many years, but we seldom sat down and watched a game together or even talked about it after the fact.  But now they keep up with the scores and are capable of talking about strategy, players, and other baseball stuff.  The time spent with my sons on the driveway last night was just as good as the grand slam that ended the game earlier in the evening.

One of the best things is for a father and son to be able to share experiences in life.  It is really special to enjoy the same things together.  I think that is the way God must feel when His children learn to like and appreciate the things He likes.  When we develop an interest in the things He is interested in, God must be pleased.  It means that we are actually being made anew in His image.

Legalism in an Unexpected Place

They say it does not matter how many baseball games you have seen, it is quite common to encounter something that you have never seen before when you are watching a game.  I have seen a lot of baseball games.  I have been to Yankee Stadium, Fenway Park, Wrigley Field, Busch Stadium, Minute Maid Park, and the Rangers ballpark more times than I can remember.  I have been to Spring Training in both Florida and Arizona.  I have sat through more Little League games than should be allowed.  It is impossible to count how many games I have watched on television on listened to on the radio.  Last night, I saw something I had never seen before.

Jeremy, Noah, and I went to the Ranger game last night.  We sat down the right field line, close to the foul pole.  These are some of my favorite seats – close enough to get a good look at everything but not so close as to be prohibitively expensive.  I remember sitting in this section when they only cost ten or twelve dollars, which barely pays for parking now days.  In fact, I was sitting in this section very late on a September Saturday night in 1996 when the Rangers won the West Division title the very first time.

When we first arrived at Section 11, we were greeted by the usher, which is not unusual at all.  He was an older gentleman; coming from a guy my age you can assume he was pretty old.  Most of the ushers are retired folks who are either supplementing their retirement income or just enjoying summer evenings at the ballpark.  He was very nice, helpful, and a little too bossy, but I didn’t think anything about it.

Apparently the Rangers organization has instituted a policy to prevent fans from sitting in any seat other than the one listed on their ticket.  Let me say up front, I do not have a problem with a fan who wants to move and sit in another location.  Personally, in times past, I have purchased a bleacher ticket for an afternoon game during a season when the Rangers were just playing out the schedule and nobody was attending the game, and then moved over and sat behind home plate.  I always wait to make sure they have not sold the seat to someone else.  If someone wants to sit in an unsold seat next to me, that is fine with me.  I am not a legalist!

The two ushers patrolling our section last night were tenacious.  They checked everyone who came close to our section – no exceptions.  If someone slipped by without notice, they chased them down the stairs to check their tickets.  If they were not in section 11, they were told to leave.  Women, kids, old men, it didn’t matter, they had to leave.  They even expelled a couple of members of the “Mavericks Maniacs” who were at the game.