Wonderfully Beautiful

Every once and a while God brings somebody special into your life - somebody that has a unique way of making you look at things from an entirely different perspective.

Her name is Gabby. I don't really know where she came from. She just started showing up at church a few weeks ago. She sits with her grandmother on the second row to my left as I preach. She's short for her age, a little under developed physically and emotionally. She's loud. Very loud. But that's o.k. because she's beautiful . . . wonderfully beautiful.

She walks with a bit of a limp and smiles a lot. She's amazed by the simplest of things, and you are never quite sure if she has fully grasped what you're trying to say to her. Most people don't really know how to take her. If its on her mind, she's going to say it. Needless to say, her words are rarely seasoned with social graces. She will probably never make the cover of Vogue but she is beautiful . . . wonderfully beautiful.

She sits and listens intently as I preach, Sunday after Sunday about God sending His only Son to die for us. I talk about dying to self and living for Christ. I speak about gaining life by giving life away; and she listens . . . week after week she listens.

The other day her grandmother told me Gabby wanted to get baptized. I made an appointment to talk with her to make sure she was aware of what she was doing. I asked her if she knew for sure she was going to heaven when she died. She said she did. Then I asked if she were to die today and stand before God and He were to ask, "Why should I let you into heaven?" What she would say? she told me she felt sure that God would let her into heaven because she was good and helped her grandmother.

That was my opportunity. I told her how we all sin and how sin keeps us from going to heaven. I told her how there was nothing we could do to earn heaven. I told her that God was the only one good enough to deserve heaven. I told her how God loved her so much that He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to die on the cross for her sins. I showed her in the bible how she could trust in His death, burial and resurrection and call upon the Lord and ask Him to save her. In the moments following that beautiful little girl called on a wonderful Savior and gave her life over to Him.

"Now, Gabby" I said, "If you were to die today and God were to ask you, 'Why should I let you into heaven?' what would you say?" With a sweet, little sparkle in her eye, she looked up at me and said, "Because Jesus died for me and rose again!" I was elated.

"Now we can do the baptism thing," I said, "Since you have trusted Christ, its time for you to tell the whole world what Jesus did for you when He died on that cross, was buried and rose again. Sunday morning you are going to come before the church and stand in the baptismal waters. When you are lowered into the waters you will tell every one there that Jesus died for you and how you want to be associated with his death. Then, as you are lifted up out of the waters you will be telling everyone that Jesus rose from the grave and you want to be associated with his new life." She looked a little concerned, but agreed.

The next Sunday she was there with bells on, telling everyone how she was going to be baptized that day. I introduced her to Pastor Roger, the one doing the baptisms that morning, who took her away to get prepared.

When I finished my sermon I told the congregation about a special little girl that would be following the Lord in believer's baptism. The screen slowly raised and there stood Pastor Roger and that wonderfully, beautiful little girl. She was noticeably frightened, chattering nervously. Roger tactfully quieted her and said these words: "Buried with Him into baptism (he then lowered her into the water); raised with Him unto newness of life (raising her up out of the water).

It was then I realized how wonderfully beautiful that little girl truly is. As she came up from the water she looked up at Roger and asked, "Am I dead yet?" "Am I dead yet?"

She asked him if she was dead yet! It took a few minutes for it to dawn on me. She believed that following Christ in believers baptism meant actually dying. She had believed everything I told her in a very literal way! When that wonderfully, beautiful little girl walked down those steps into that baptismal pool she actually believed she was walking to her death. Following Christ to her meant giving her life away.

"Am I dead yet?" "No honey," said Jesus "I took care of that for you a long time ago. But now my dear, you are truly alive!"

Oh that we all had faith like that! The faith of a wonderfully, beautiful child.

First Impressions

One of the greatest difficulties we face here at Blackwelder Park when it comes to welcoming our guests is the layout of our campus. Our worship center is a 50 year-old structure designed around how church was done 2 generations ago. It faces Summit Avenue and identifies itself as a Blackwelder Park Community Church. That was and ideal situation 50 years ago because that is exactly what the church was designed to be, but with the introduction of a high commuter workforce our congregation travels as much as 30 miles to attend church here today.

When we were a community church, all visitors had some connect ability to the membership before they ever attended the first service. They lived next door to each other, their kids played together, or they worked in the mill together. The world was much smaller then.

Today things are different. We still desire to stay connected as Blackwelder Park’s community church, but the people who live in this community are not as familiar with their neighbors as they once were. Today we drive home from work, press a button in our car that opens the garage door, park inside the house, close the door behind us and go into our air conditioned homes until the next morning when we press the button again and head off to work. 50 years ago, most everyone walked to work, and sat on their front porches in the evenings to stay cool. “Howdy neighbor!” was a commonly heard phrase and, as a result, neighbors became acquainted with each other. The reality is, most of our guests are not acquainted with any one when they arrive for the first time.

So, with that said, our campus layout is problematic for welcoming guests in the 21^st century. Why? Because our foyer is too small and can only serve as a room where you receive a warm handshake and bulletin given in passing as you take five steps into the worship center where you find yourself “on your own.” These people who have absolutely no connection with anybody in our church receive less than a 5 second welcome greeting before they take a seat in our big, intimidating meeting place (intimidating to them, not us).

One solution to this problem would be to build an atrium on the front of our building, but the high cost of materials and labor, in conjunction with the debt we already have incurred through our last building project prohibits us from going in that direction.

We have, however, made some strides toward helping people to become better acquainted. We now offer the “Central Park” time in between Sunday School and our 11:00 service time in the Family Life Center. This is a great ministry and whoever makes it over to Central Park finds it to be a very warm and inviting place to be.

The question before us is, how do we get our first-time guests to wander over to the FLC? Truthfully speaking, they will NEVER wander over there on their own, so Central Park becomes a “Members Only Club” (not by design, but by location). For that reason, we are offering these techniques that we feel will assist you in helping first-time guests to feel welcome here at The Park.

1. Be committed to the ministry of helps. Helping people feel at home is a service to the Lord, not a service to the church, staff, pastor, or any other individual or organization. Be faithful to the calling. Arrive EARLY, not on-time. Welcoming guests happens 30 minutes prior to the beginning of service. Arriving on time is like showing up for a 1^st shift job at 5:00 – the opportunity to work has passed.

2. Be aware of what is going on. As a helper your job is to assist people in feeling welcome at our church. Do not get caught up in small talk with church members to the point that when a guest enters the room you cannot break away to do your job. You are on duty and must be prepared to do what you are called to do when duty presents itself.

3. Take the time to get to know the guests on a personal level. People today see right through superficial greetings. Politeness is no substitute for friendliness in today’s world. Guests do not care how polite you are, they are more interested in how real you are. They want to see you as a real person trying to get to know them as real people. They value time spent with them far more than pleasant words in passing. They want you to try to get to know them as a person.

4. Be aware of your posture. Relax. Don’t hover over them while they are sitting in a pew. Sit in the pew in front of them and turn and talk with them. Sitting down always gives the impression that you value their company and want to offer your time to them without limitations. Lean into the conversation. By doing so you will present yourself as a warm, friendly person that is truly interested in who they are as a person.

5. Ask questions. The best way to show somebody that you value them as a person is to ask questions about who they are and what they do. Women love to talk about their families and men love to talk about their jobs. If you remember that, you will never lack for something to talk about. When you have finished asking questions, ask a few more. By doing this you will make a friend and earn the right to introduce them to other people.

6. Ask them to do you a favor. This can only be done after you have earned the right through spending time getting to know them personally. Say something like, “Hey, would you do me a favor and follow me for a second? I have something I would really like to show you.” It is best to do this while communicating some form of body language that says, “Hey, I’m fixin to go somewhere.” Do not tell them where you are going to take them until after they answer the question. When they stand up and start to walk with you, then you should tell them about this wonderful place called Central Park where we all gather together and have a great time getting to know one another. Be very mindful that this person is trusting you to protect them as they step outside their comfort zone and follow you to a very scary place. Do not leave them alone until they have met somebody new and are comfortable with your leaving.

7. Take them to the Welcome Center. This is the first place a guest should be taken and it is imperative that they feel welcomed when they arrive there. Introduce them to the Welcome Center attendants, and if they are not offered a gift by the attendant ask the attendant for one. We offer a copy of The Purpose Driven Life, a small Prayer Journal, and a Christian Music CD to all our guests.

8. Offer to get them a cup of coffee. While standing at the Welcome Center say something like, “Hey, let me get you a cup of coffee.” They might say yes, and if they do, take them over to the coffee maker and introduce them to the kitchen staff. When you walk up to the counter say something like, “Hey Gary, let me introduce you to Bob and Sarah, they are visiting with us today and I wanted them to meet you guys. While they are making small talk ask what they take in their coffee and make a cup for them. If the say something like, “no thanks, I don’t drink coffee,” don’t let that throw you off. Just respond by saying, “Oh, o.k., well let me introduce you to a few folks then,” and start walking over to the food table. Show them what is available and make the transition into step 9.

9. Hand them off to a new friend. By this time you should have a pretty good feel for their personality. Keep an eye open for someone in the crowd that would be a good hand-off person. Somebody that understands hospitality and will go the extra mile to see that the guest will feel welcome and secure. Once you have identified a hand-off person, say something like, “Oh, there’s Dave and Lisa! Come on, let me introduce you, your gonna love these guys. “ Take them over and introduce them. When you feel the handoff was successful and the guest feels secure, say something like, “Hey guys, Its been great meeting you but I’ve gotta run back over to the worship center. Hope you enjoy your coffee, and just keep an eye on that count-down clock over there. It will let you know when the service is about to start. Let me know if I can be any help in the future. See ya!

If you can successfully run a guest through all 9 of these steps you will have ensured that they feel welcome and a part of this wonderful experience we call worship.

Jesus told us to be fishers of men. I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. The best fishing hole in Kannapolis is the worship center at Blackwelder Park Baptist Church between 10:30 and 11:00 every Sunday.

Has Anybody Seen Dr. Doyle?

When I was young, I remember my mother loading us in the car and taking us to DR. Doyles office. I liked Dr. Doyle. He was kind and soft spoken. He reminded me of Marcus Welby M.D. (those of you who don't know who Marcus Welby was, need to keep it to yourself so the rest of us who do, won't feel old and out of touch).

Any how, Dr. Doyle was cool. He could do anything. He could deliver a baby, cure strep throat, remove your tonsils, appendix, and adnoids, set a broken arm, stitch up a wound, and counsel a crying mother who was overwhelmed by all the complexities of motherhood in the 1960's. There was nothing Dr. Doyle couldn't do.

Today, however, the Dr. Doyles are gone. They are replaced by pediatricians, ear, nose and throat specialists, orthopedic surgeons, hematologists, gynecologists, and oncologists. We have psychiatrists, nutritionalists, and anesthesiologists . . . podiatrists, neurologists, and of course our all-time favorite - chiropractors.

The world of medicine has become "specialized," and as a result we are herded around like cattle and treated like numbers. We go from one office visit to another hoping to find someone who cares. Doctors have learned to treat diseases but have forgotten how to treat people.

Dr. Doyle would be ticked!

But enough Doctor bashing already. The same phenomenon is happening in the church, and we must identify it and correct it before Christianity becomes so specialized that we can no longer worship together as human beings.

30 years ago churches all seemed the same. There was a standard way in which most churches worshipped. We sang the same songs, used the same instrumentation, used the same translation of the Bible and dressed in the same clothes. Our churches were all decorated in the same similar fashion and our kids looked so much alike that it didn't matter who we were spanking.

Then it all changed. Somebody recognized that we were not attracting new people to Christ, and made an attempt at reaching out instead of reaching in. At first it was great! People were being reached with the gospel of Christ that would have never been reached the "old way" we were doing church. Those who refused to change congregated together in churches that embraced "the old paths." Those churches grew by leaps and bounds because people that shared similar tastes found each other in their stand against modernity. Those who changed, embraced a new generation of believers in a more contemporary culture and enjoyed the same successes built around their own tastes and culture. But there is where we went wrong.

Success, numbers, energy, opinions, numbers, taste, numbers, numbers, numbers became the driving force behind all we did as a church. We failed to see that the reason for our growth was more of a re-alignment than an evangelical movement. We were circling the wagons when we should have been crossing the great divide.

Then came the internet (thanks Al). What was supposed to unite us divided us even more. We could now search the web and find people with similar tastes in an instant. Our searches became more and more refined and our connections became more and more specialized; less people with more in common.

Cultures within cultures, subcultures, microcultures, quantum social theory (if I might coin a few phrases). The more specialized we become, the fewer people we have to socialize with, and the smaller our circle of friends becomes. Eventually we find ourselves standing alone.

It is time to stop the madness! Lets quit looking for people who are just like us, because us quickly becomes me and me has only two friends - myself and I.

Has anybody seen Dr. Doyle?

PK

Summertime

Well, It's official.  July 4th weekend is behind us and we are "slap-dab" in the middle of summer 2009!  BBQs and beach trips (that's "going to the coast" for the truly Baptist at heart), shorts and sandals (koolates for the slightly more spiritual) and a cooler full of ice cold Cheerwine (non alcoholic of course ; ) all make these days the things that memories are made of.  

I remember every spring at my bible college, the president would give the last chapel message of the year and send us off into the summer with these words, "Always remember to whom you belong."  Those words have gone with me wherever life has taken me since those days so many years ago.  I have since thrown the laws of grammar to the wind and rephrased that statement.  I now tell those I love, "remember who you belong to" ( something about ending a sentence with a preposition, or splitting an infinitive, or some similar dumb rule that keeps people from writing like they speak).  Any way, its not about the rules, its about the message.  Live for Christ.

How many times do we place a rule on a behavior to mask the true identity of who we are?  It's something to think about, isn't it?    We make the rules, obey the rules, impose the rules on others, and grin like a opossum eating briars when we are the only ones that keep the rules we make.  Sometimes I think the rules do nothing more than give us the feeling of superiority over those who don't hold to them.  

Remember who you belong to.  That's a pretty good rule.  It doesn't tell us where to go, what to wear, or what to do when we get there.  It doesn't ask us to hide our behavior in the dark, but encourages us to walk in the light as He is in the light.  

Enjoy life, remember who you belong to, and walk in the light as He is in the light. If you follow those rules, you'll need no others.

Word,

PK     

Why?

One nice thing about getting older is having so many observations to play around with.  When I was young, my thoughts and ideas were based on assumptions and idealistic projections of how things ought to be.  But as I got older, my views changed as I became a student of the experiences life had given me.  

There are factors that come into play in our lives and change all the rules.  Some, we control while others are totally out of our control.  Our initial observations of those factors serve as the bedrock for our world views and become the basis of our culture.  Everything in our world revolves around that and, as a result, our culture starts to dictate what is right and what is wrong.  Those cultural rights and wrongs come to be known as our cultural mores.  

 Within any given culture there are numerous people who share the same behaviors.  We dress alike, talk alike, and for the most part think alike.  We are united by our culture.  But deeper than our culture resides our cultural mores - the rights and wrongs of our society.  Our mores are the reasons why we dress alike, talk alike and think alike.  

When a "factor" comes into play and changes our behaviors, we are initially offended.  "It just ain't right."  We stand up and protest the new ideas because they challenge the core of who we are and the way we live.  We feel a sense of civic duty to "take a stand against" the new idea or behavior.  Then somebody comes along and has the audacity to ask us a very simple, yet contentious question, "Why?"  

That simple, one-word question changes all the rules.  It causes us to look beyond our current behaviors and thought processes, and closely examine the bedrock upon which our culture is built.  "It just ain't right."  "Why?"  "Why, what?"  "Why ain't it right?"  That perhaps is the scariest dialogue we as human beings can ever face.  It causes us to challenge the thoughts of our younger minds and the ideological foundations upon which our lives have been built.  

What if we ask "why?" and find that there is a crack in our foundation?  What if we learn that everything we based our life upon was sinking sand?  The horror of that realization alone is enough for most cultural ostriches to bury their head in that sand.  Most do.

  We learn to despise new thoughts and ideas that challenge the way we live.  We talk against, boycott and avoid anything that might go against the grain of "how we were raised."  We say things like, "You ain't from around here, are ya, boy?"  in hopes of diminishing the impact of evil aliens that are sent from an evil planet to destroy all that is right and honorable among men.  I have one word for those who feel obliged to protect their world from change . . . "why?"

Why is change so evil?  Christ told us to inspect the foundations we have built our lives upon.  He wanted us to know that foolish men build their houses on the sand while wise men build their houses on the rock.  The only way to insure that the principles of your life are built upon the rock is to ask the question "Why?"  

Take a long hard look at your life and ask "Why?"  

Think,

PK

      

On the Job Training

I'll never forget my first job.  It was a summer job working for my grandfather bailing hay on his farm in upstate NY.  I couldn't have been more than 10 or 11 years old at the time.   As far as I can remember, those were the most formative days in my entire life.  I learned more about living the summer I spent on that farm than I did at any other time in my life.

Haying is hard work.  There's no doubt about that, and the pay is nothing to write home about.  That year I made a whopping 1/2 cent a bail for every bail we put in the barn.   The value of the time spent there could not be measured in dollars and cents, though.  What I gained was measured by what I lost, and what filled the vacancy left behind.

My grandfather taught me how to be a man, and he did so by letting me watch him at work.  I watched as he backed his John Deere to the mower and hooked up the PTO.  He told me to always be careful around PTOs because they can "suck a man in and twist him up."  He taught me to keep my eyes open so as I wouldn't harm the machinery (sheenery, as he called it) or hurt myself or others around me.  I watched him take pride in what he did, make use of every minute of daylight, and sleep well at night.

I remember cutting the fields and waiting for the hay to dry.  All I wanted to do was hook up the bailer and start producing bails of hay.  I dreamed of bails falling out behind, as my little mind calculated the earnings, a half cent, one cent, one and a half, two cent, two and a half, three . . .  I learned patience as he told me that putting green hay in the barn would start a fire.  So we sat and waited, "Is it dry yet, grandpa?"  "Not yet."  The little boy inside me couldn't quite understand, but I waited.  "Patience, my boy, patience."

A few days later we backed up the John Deere again, but this time it was to the rake.  The rake was a big red piece of "sheenery" with large round wheels encircled with sharp tongs that moved the hay into rows as we rode along.  I'll never forget how careful my grandfather was to keep the rows straight; watching where he came from about as closely as he was watching where he was going.  "Its not about where you're going, its about what you leave behind, my boy, its about what you leave behind."

The day had finally come.  We backed up to the bailer and "hooked-er-up."  Off we went, following the rows we had left behind a day earlier.  Out came the first bail.  "Ca-ching!" I was a 1/2 cent richer!  Then the tractor stopped.  My grand father climbed down, walked over, picked the bail up and threw it back down again right where it was.  "Now you do it," he said.  I took my new gloves out of my back pocket just as he had done, placed my little fingers under the twine and pulled with every ounce of strength I had, but it wouldn't budge.  Then I watched as grandpa walked over to the machine and made an adjustment.  "Whatcha doin?" I asked.  "Making the bails smaller," he replied.  "Never bite off more than you can chew, my boy, never bite off more than you can chew."

The next day we hooked up the wagon.  Grandpa and I weren't the only ones working that day.  He had hired a man from down the road to help.  I didn't quite understand but kept my mouth shut (a technique that has proven to be quite effective over the years).  Off we went.  At first I walked along side and threw the bails up on the wagon while the "hired hand," stacked.  I was doing fine until we got to the third tier.  Then we switched.  I must say I wasn't very comfortable with my new position because it was quite high and I was (and still am) a little uncomfortable with heights.  The fact that I was standing on a very unstable surface traveling through a field didn't help the situation much.  "Grandpa, don't you think I'm a little too young to be in such a dangerous position?"  "Recognize the things you can't do and don't be afraid of the things you can do, my boy." 

10 tiers high we arrived at the barn.  The hired hand and I started the off loading process as fast as we could and threw the bails down on the ground below us.  The fifth bail I threw landed a few inches from where my grandfather was standing.  "Young man," he said "Always look out for people below you."

After the wagon was unloaded he cranked up the escalator that carried the bails to the loft.  One by one we loaded them onto the escalator and watched as they slowly made their way up.  Then it happened, the hired man who was now stacking in the loft, missed a bail which fell down a few feet from where I was standing.  My grandfather looked at me and smiled, "Remember to keep an eye on the people above, too."

We were done, and boy was I tired.  We jumped up on to the empty wagon and headed off to the house, or so I thought.  As we passed by the old farm house, I asked the man beside me why we hadn't stopped.  He said, "The job ain't done till the last bail is in the barn."

I don't know how many times we went through that process that hot, sweaty, itchy, summer.  It seems like it lasted for ever.   I think it was the hardest I had ever worked.  I know it was the least amount of money I had ever made.  If I remember right, I had made just enough that summer to buy a baseball glove.  But, as I said earlier, the value of the time spent on that farm could not be measured in dollars and cents.  What I gained was measured by what I lost, and what filled the vacancy left behind.  

That summer, my grandfather worked the boy out of me and the vacancy left behind was filled with lessons that would serve as a model for the man I would become.  

Over the next 4 weeks we will be going through a 4 part series entitled On the Job Training.  It will be a study on the Old Testament book of Job that will deal with the thought processes of suffering.  The overriding theme being, "God has to work something bad out of us before He can bring something good out of us."  

Sometimes life is full of suffering: hot, sweaty, itchy suffering that brings us little to no monetary gain.  We go through trials and testing for what seems like no purpose at all.  This series is designed to help you see the bigger picture in the midst of your trial.  

I hope you will join us on Sunday mornings, or follow the series via the web cast because sometimes the trials of life are in fact, nothing more than, training for something far greater. 

Hot, itchy and sweating with ya,

PK     

3-D

I enjoy art, and the creativity that drives it.  Each new concept or creation brings renewed hope and possibility to life.  Art is beauty, imagination and initiative mixed together.  Art explores the possibilities of life and then dares to dream.  Art says yes when monotony says no.  Art is courageous.  It dares us to step out of the box.  It is not afraid of failure.  

Art is the ability to take any pallet or medium and pour creativity into it, resulting in a new dimensional perspective.  Early art, however, was limited in this regard in that early artists were not aware of techniques that added the third dimension.  Early art was flat and two dimensional.  It reflected height and width but no depth.  It was not until artists started adding the third dimension that the fulness of life could be reflected on the canvas.  

As with two dimensional art, two dimensional living is flat, shallow and superficial.  As a result, there is no room for anyone or anything outside of one's own life or self interests.  The third dimension brings depth to our two dimensional lives.  

You may ask, "what is this third dimension?"  It is the ability to look at life from a new perspective, outside of our flat two-dimensional box.   It is life without limits.  It creates volume, space, and room for God and others.  

This third dimension, or 3-D as we like to call it, is life in its eternal form.  3-D also stands for "third day."  The day Jesus rose from the dead, introducing the perspective of eternity to our flat, two dimensional minds.  

The resurrection of Jesus Christ is the element that brings us a new perspective on life.  It enhances every aspect of who we are.  It gives life depth and meaning - a new capacity.  It is life without limits, beauty without boundaries.  The third day is to life what depth perception was to art.  Without it we would be limited by the canvases of our lives, never reaching beyond our flat perspective.  

On the third day Jesus Christ stepped off the canvas of mortality and walked boldly into the depths of eternity.  He painted the most glorious picture known to man, and now stands on the horizon and beckons to whosoever will, "come and follow me.  Enter into the fulness of life." 

I love it when God paints a picture!

PK