I am Thankful for Some Broken Traditions

I team teach a course with Dr. Doug Slocumb on family ministry. We both subscribe to family systems theory. Systems theory holds in part that the family functions as a whole with each member functioning in specific ways to keep the whole working. Even when one member is unhealthy in a way that negatively impacts the family (addiction, neurosis, etc,) that member’s issues are integrated into the whole with other members compensating so that the family system continues to work even if highly misfunctional. A strange as it may seem, an individual’s problems may become so woven into the fabric of the family system that the problems become necessary for the family’s survival. For example, if an alcoholic father dies another member of the family will often develop an addiction. That family needs to focus on one member’s addiction in order to feel they are a family.

Systems theory further teaches that the patterns with which individuals relate to their family members are passed down to the next generation. We learn how to exist in family relations from the relations of our family of origin. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. The sons of alcoholic fathers will often be addicts themselves, even if the addiction is to work. The point is that family patterns and traditions tend to be passed on to the next generation even if they are disguised in an alternative form.

I am thankful for the majority of the values and patterns of relationships that were woven into me by a loving and disciplined family system. There are a few patterns I wish I could have broken out of; I am a workaholic. What causes me to marvel, are the family patterns out of which my parents were able to break.   I also marvel at how they turned highly destructive patterns into positive traits. It is as if they took all of the positive traits of their family systems and amplified them to drown out most of the bad.

The apple does not fall far from the tree, but it can choose to fall in the right direction. By the grace of God we can break destructive patterns of behavior that damage our relationships. We can also identify their root causes and seek healing and wholeness. That may be the central calling of families that follow Christ. The members of Christian families must relate to each other as Christians and as Christians they must seek together to find healing and wholeness; they must build up one another, minister healing to one another, and deal with the worldly patterns that seek dominance in their lives. I am thankful Christ has made a way for us to truly minister grace to those we love the most. We do not have to live out patterns of destruction, no matter how many generations have been marred by those same patterns.

One of my great-grandfathers was an alcoholic who abused his wife and children.  Several of my uncles fit that pattern as well, at least for lengthy periods of their lives.  Others were verbally and emotionally abusive.  Some were bigoted and otherwise vile.  [There were of course many others who modeled goodness and compassion, but they are not the subject of this entry.]  By God’s grace, I have never witnessed any of those behaviors in my family. My Dad use to say he was proud of his children; they never caused him any trouble.  I know that is the fruit of a praying mother, and that is my point.  The prayers of a righteous mother availeth much; they break the stronghold of family systems.

Cleveland, Tennessee
October 7, 2010
JDJ

I am Thankful for Good Fences and Good Neighbors

I confess, I don’t know my neighbors well. I occasionally talk with those living closest to us, almost always when we are outside working. There simply isn’t a lot of time for socializing. Most of our neighbors have lived here much longer than we have. We have never had a conflict with any of them, at least not until one of them stole my bull this afternoon. You might want to skip to the bottom to get the details.

When I was a kid we had a big, gentle bull. He would let me ride on his back as long as I wanted to go where he wanted to go. He only objected when two riders tried get on him. If that ever happened, it was rodeo bull riding down on the farm. One of my cousins loved to sneak up beside us and press down on his back just to see the bull throw me off.

I think Dad had bought Old Red from his brother, but I’m not sure. He was a fine looking bull with a mixed pedigree. Mr. Johnny Johns lived next to our farm.  Mr Johnny was actually my dad’s first cousin, once removed (he was considerably older than my Dad, and long before Dad was born Mr. Johnny’s father had been disowned by the rest of my Dad’s family over an inheritance dispute). He owned a couple of hundred acres, part of it in dense woods and swamps. His pasture was right next to our pasture and he owned his own bull, which he considered considerably better bred than Old Red.

There was a problem. Old Red was bigger than Mr. Johnny’s bull, and he was determined when it came to romance. He would jump the fence, stomp it down, or find a week place and push right through it if there was a cow on the other side needing his attention. When that happened, Mr. Johnny would get word to us and we would drop whatever we were doing to go run the bull back home.

One time we must have chased him for three or four hours, and I do mean chase. The cows had gone down into the deep woods.  We would get Old Red headed in the right direction and he would find a side path to dart down and circle around behind us. Dad and I were cutting through some thick brambles when Dad said, “Stop, do you smell that?”

“What?” I asked.

“Don’t you smell that smell of rotten cucumbers. Son, we’ve gotten ourselves into a rattlesnake nest. You watch where you’re stepping and let’s ease out of here.”

I watched, and we eased. When we got a few yards into a clearing Dad said, “Let’s go to the house. That bull can follow the cows to Mr. Johnny’s and he can pen him up tonight.” With that he gave out a loud whistle to signal my brother and cousin to follow us out.

Shortly after that Dad took Old Red to the market and bought a registered Black Angus bull to replace him. Mr. Johnny sold his old bull right after Dad bought the Black Angus. Whenever he needed a bull Mr. Johnny would just bring his cows to the pasture next to ours. The funny thing is he would never call us to come get him out of his pasture. Sometimes a relative would call to tell us our bull was at Mr. Johnny’s (remember, we lived an hour away). Other times we would find the bull on the wrong side of the fence ourselves.

Dad would go see the elderly neighbor and apologize for his bull getting into Mr. Johnny’s cows. “I sure hope he don’t mess your herd up. I know you never wanted Black Angus calves,” Dad said with a boyish grin you might even call a smirk.

“Oh, that’s all right Ellis. He ain’t hurt’n noth’n and he ain’t eat’n too much grass. You can just leave him if you’re in a hurry and get him the next time you’re up here. I’ll even pen ‘em up for you if you let me know you’re coming.”

“That’s right neighborly of you Mr. Johnny. You just let me know when you’re done with him and I’ll come get him.”

Good fences make for good neighbors. Registered bulls can make for even better neighbors.

When I got home this evening I looked out the back window and saw my neighbor in the woods on my side of the fence. There’s a gate between our fields. By the time I got outside I saw him leading my bull, Jackson, into his pasture. I had to go out to my barn to unplug the electric fence to get to where they were. I followed them through their pasture, around their house and into another pasture. When I got close enough for them to hear, I called out, “do ya’ll need to borrow my bull?”

“Is that your bull? We had a bull delivered today while we were down in Atlanta. We didn’t see him. When we went looking for him we thought he had jumped the fence to get to your cows.”

It seems they had just borrowed the $1,500 bull and were afraid they had lost him. About that time he wondered up from the other side of their pond. That’s when the excitement began. Two bulls, six or eight cows, and one of them in heat. Where’s the video camera when you need it?

They managed to get their herd penned and Jackson separated out. The only problem was that Jackson was in love and determined. I got him to follow me with his head buried in a bucket of feed but just before we got to the gate he raised his head, sniffed the wind and took off to serenade his new girlfriend. It took six of us close to an hour to coax, chase, and coral him back onto my piece of land.

I loved it. It was just like old times. There is nothing to bond neighbors like chasing a love-struck bull. They were very apologetic. I assured them I might have done the same thing if I thought the $1,500 bull I had borrowed had jumped the fence. They are good neighbors. They’re the same ones who helped me coral my cows and get them home three years ago last month. I am thankful for good fences and better neighbors.

Cleveland, Tennessee
October 6, 2010
JDJ

I am Thankful for a Reminder to Rest

About a month ago I wrote about being thankful for a evening of rest. I commented on the need to rest.  I have not given much attention to rest since then.  Life is full.  Today, I took the whole day to rest. We are on fall break and I was supposed to go to the state ministers’ meeting in Nashville. But I woke feeling a little under the weather, and so I decided to stay in and take it easy. I reviewed some old projects that had been sidelined but I did not work on any current projects. As the day progressed I felt renewed.

Rest is essential to our well being. God ordained it from the beginning. My concept of rest has been to escape from stress by shifting between arenas of work.  It seems restfull to forget about the seminary by attending to the church, or to forget about both by doing manual labor.  I am discovering that rest is more than not feeling stress because I have diverted my attention away from the event causing me stress.  Rest is withdrawal from all work.  It is needed for our bodies and our spirits (mental/emotional) and it is critical to our relationship with God.

I have often said that prayer is work, hard work. Praying through to the presence and peace of God requires effort, but there is a correlation between the amount of effort required and the amount of clutter in our spirits. Rest is God’s plan for sweeping out the clutter, those things, good, bad, and indifferent, that threaten to become barriers between us and our Creator.

I am thankful for a day of rest but I am more thankful for the gentle manner in which God has reminded me rest is not just a commandment, it is a gift designed to renew us in our walk with Him. In this I am reminded that prayer is not so much an instrument to change this world as it is a down payment on that eternal rest into which we have been called.

Cleveland, Tennessee
October 05, 2010
JDJ

I am Thankful This Series Will End

Of late, I have felt mentally depleted when it is time to write for this blog. I confess it often feels like a chore. I made a commitment to myself and I intend to keep that commitment, but it is not easy at this time of the year. My work at the seminary is taxing; New Covenant is exciting but draining as well. I don’t feel especially exhausted. It’s more like I have already picked the low-hanging fruit of thankfulness, things that were easy to write about, and now it is work.

There is so much for which I am thankful about which I have not yet written, but writing about those things is requiring considerable effort. It is a challenge to try to be thankful, engaging, entertaining, and hopefully enlightening all at the same time. I’m tired, not of being thankful but of writing about being thankful. Therefore, as meaningful as this experience has been, I am thankful it will end in less than three months. Just being honest. Pray saints, pray.

Cleveland, Tennessee
October 4, 2010
JDJ

I am Thankful for the Discipline of God

One of the great challenges of ministry is to discern one’s appropriate role in the administration of church discipline. As a pastor it is clear that besetting sins, those associated with the works of the flesh, must be addressed. Drunkenness, rage, unbridled greed, idolatry, and fornication must be addressed. Members who are known to indulge in these must be called to repentance, nurtured into spiritual renewal and restored to full fellowship. But other sins are less clear. How do you confront someone about gluttony, envy, jealousy, or pride?

I have had to supervise the discipline several church members in my nearly thirty years as a lead pastor. Chronic lying, spouse abuse, drunkenness, slander, and adultery are among the sins I have had to address. The results have been mixed.

The process I follow is fairly direct. If a church member or regular attender gets caught up in a work of the flesh I have a one-on-one conversation to address the situation. My goal is to clarify the Biblical teaching on the subject and assess the person’s desire for spiritual restoration. If there is no sign of repentance I instruct the individual I will not allow him or her to participate in the life of the church as true believer: no testimony except of repentance, no ministry activity, and no communion. If he or she is a member I inform the individual there will be a formal church conference to consider excommunication. In all cases they are encouraged to continue attending church. I have never had anyone to choose to continue their sin and remain in the church. I have never overseen the removal of membership from a member; I have had several to leave the church rather than submit to the restoration process.

If the guilty person confesses and expresses a desire for restoration I offer them some options. They must enter into a program of accountability. Typically this component is a disciplinary band. Bands are comprised of three to five persons who are of the same gender as the transgressor. The individual nominates the participants as persons whom they consider spiritually mature whom they trust. I reserve the right to veto a participant. If I think the sin is tied to an emotional or psychological problem, I encourage the member to get therapy with the church offering assistance if needed.

I had a case several years ago that proved futile. The young woman’s husband was approaching the end of his prison term. She had been faithful to him throughout his five years of incarceration. But as his release approached she began to question her desire to remain married to a convict. She got involved with another man and started bringing him to church; he was “just a friend.”

One Sunday they asked to talk with me. Her opening statement, “Pastor we would like to get premarital counseling.”

“Mary (name changed), I can’t do that.”

“Why, not?”

“Mary, you are already married.”

“I know, but I thought that if you gave us premarital counseling I could decide which one I wanted to be married to.”

She confessed they had been sexually active for some time and she agreed to submit to a disciplinary band. I stressed the purpose of the band was to help her get restored to Christ. She attended six weeks of counseling and accountability sessions. Afterwards, she came to me to ask if I would then give them premarital counseling. When I refused she protested, “But Pastor, I submitted to the discipline. I did everything you asked. Why won’t you do this for me?”

They left and found a church that “lived by the Bible, loved everyone, and refused to judge.” She did divorce her husband and married the other man.

The saga continued. A few years later I was leading a small group Bible study and her ex-husband showed up one night. Some of his family remained in our church. On that night he gave a prayer request. “Pastor, I need prayer.”

“What for Billy (name changed)?”

“I’m having a problem, I’m fornicating.”

“Billy, I have a word from the Lord for you.”

With sincerity, “Really, Pastor, What is it?

“Stop fornicating! It’s that simple; God wants you to stop.”

“I can’t stop. She might leave me, just pray she will marry me and everything will be Okay.”

Well, that’s ministry. Sometimes you just have to leave people in the hands of God. When you have no power or authority, all you can do is pray and hope you are a convicting presence, a voice of truth and love, and not condemnation.

Cleveland, Tennessee
October 3, 2010
JDJ

I am Thankful for a Glorious Day

It was a glorious day. The weather here in east Tennessee was perfect. The skies were clear and crystal blue; the temperature was cool. I spent the morning doing work on the computer, after pancakes with homemade blueberry syrup and sausage, of course. In the early afternoon I went to a wedding for two of our students (Cheryl spent several hours in the office preparing a lecture she will be giving at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena this week). After the wedding, I grilled burgers and then we went on a motor cycle ride. It was great and I am thankful.

Cleveland, Tennessee
October 2, 2010
JDJ

I am Thankful for Thanksgiving

It is the first day of October and I am looking forward to Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is the Holiday of Holidays. It inaugurates the holiday season. It is the first day of Christmas. Halloween is that bazaar holiday void of purpose, a meaningless opportunity to dress in silly costumes and underwrite the candy industry. As a child “All Saints Eve” had no significance for a good Pentecostal kid. I just couldn’t understand it; just do it and enjoy it.

Thanksgiving is a holiday with significance. It was the nation’s Fourth of July before there was a Day of Independence, and a Feast of Ingathering patterned on Pentecost. As a national holiday Thanksgiving dismantles the myth of separation of faith and State. On Thanksgiving we reclaim our heritage as a Christian nation even if we have evolved into a plurality of religious stew demanding to be seasoned in public with the valium of agnosticism.

Thanksgiving is perhaps the most nostalgic of Holidays. Our other holidays are activity days, opening presents, cooking out, weekend trips, etc. But Thanksgiving is the one day of the year when the focal point of life is to gather as families around a banquet table and give thanks. As such, it is our holiday that most resembles the feast days of the Bible. On this day we pause to be thankful for the core blessings of our lives: food, shelter, and loved ones.

In my childhood, Thanksgiving was connected with hog killing day. On the Saturday after Thanksgiving we gathered at my Grand-parents house and butchered a couple of hogs. Back then it seemed to always be cold weather by Thanksgiving. The conditions were right for hanging meat in the smoke house, but in truth, we wrapped it and put it in the freezer. It’s just too much work to keep a fire going for weeks on end.

Out in my barn I have stored my Grandfather’s big cauldron in which we use to scald the hogs. Before dressing a hog (removing their entrails) the hair was removed. The process required dipping the carcass into hot water (scalding), pulling it out onto the rim of the tub and scrapping the hairs off. Once the hide was clean it was hung upside down and butchered. Then it was quartered, sliced and wrapped for the freezer.

The big cauldron was cleaned and the fat was cooked down for lard and “cracklins.” Eventually, a big pot and Coleman stove were discovered to be more convenient for this task. Pork lard had to be cured to get the heavy meat flavor out. Momma always fried potatoes in the lard before using it to cook anything else. The potatoes drew the pork flavor out and thus cured it for other purposes.

For me, butchering hogs is synonymous with Thanksgiving. The extended family gathered together in a primal ritual that sustained us through the coming long winter. The sacrifice of an animal did not devalue life, as members of PETA might claim. To the contrary, participation in this most ancient communal activity heightened my awareness of the worth of all life and increased my awareness of how precious it is as a gift from God.

By the time I was a teenager we had stopped butchering our own hogs and cows. I suppose it was just too easy to take them to Wilson’s for processing. Then again there was the day when one of my uncles threatened to shoot someone before the hog, a story I am not supposed to write about. Perhaps I have embellished the ritual with unwarranted pleasant memories and downplayed the family tensions that may have contributed to an increase in the local butcher’s business.

I am thankful no one ever got shot at one of our family Thanksgiving gatherings. Not every South Georgia family can say that.

Cleveland, Tennessee
October 1, 2010
JDJ