Thankfully, we know that the ‘finished product’ of these renovations is going to look great – mostly because the work is being done by a talented crew – supervised by our church’s own Bill Norman of Bill Norman Construction. (Now Bill…about that ‘free advertising discount.’ ) But let’s face it: going through a renovation isn’t a lot of fun. You have to move a bunch of your stuff out of the way. Comfortable routines get disrupted. And almost inevitably, the work churns up dust and debris that has to be dealt with somehow. But in spite of those headaches, we’re renovating anyway – because we believe that the end result is worth it.

It occurs to me that something very similar can be said about the “heart and life renovation” that Jesus wants to perform within each of us as individuals – and among all of us as a church. We know that the finished product will look great. After all, God’s Word promises that when the project is completed, “we will be like Him, for we will see him as He is” (1 John 3:2). But along the way, a bunch of our stuff is going to have to be moved out of the way. More than likely, some of our comfortable routines will get disrupted. And Lord only knows what kind of ‘dust and debris’ will get churned up! If we’re going to become more like Christ, there will be fears and sins and hurts that will have to be dealt with somehow. But in spite of all that, wouldn’t we want to renovate anyway? Don’t we believe that the end result is worth it?

Here are a couple of questions that I would really like you to make a matter of prayer. First: What renovations does Jesus want to do in you? Is there some old sin that he wants to tear out? Is there some spiritual practice (like prayer or Bible reading or giving) that he wants to ‘freshen up’? Is there a new addition that he wants to add – like a new act of compassion or a new form of ministry? Second (and similarly): What renovations does Jesus want to do in us as a church family? What no longer works and needs to be updated? What’s cherished-but-worn-from-use and needs to be restored? What new opportunities, needs and gifts are inviting us to step out in faith and embrace something different?

In many ways, the Christian life would be so much easier if we could hire someone like Bill Norman Construction to handle our ‘heart and life’ renovations just like they’d handle our home projects. But our Lord and Savior requires us to be more personally and more passionately invested than that. The transformation that the Spirit is producing within us calls us to “work out our salvation with fear and trembling” – to roll up our sleeves, pick up our tools, and dive in. But thankfully, this is no “do-it-yourself” affair. We have beside us a Master Builder, who knows every hidden part of us and who understands how to maximize our potential. And it is His promise that he will see this project through. After all, the scriptures remind us: “God, who began the good work within you, will continue His work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns” (Philippians 1:6, NLT).

Will we embrace the fearsome joy of renovation?

For those who don’t recognize it, this was the famous tagline of Paul Harvey – a radio personality whose commentaries often examined current events by digging a little below the surface, thus revealing how one’s perspective can change when you know all the facts and the context of any particular happening. Indeed, it is amazing how different things can look when you know ‘the rest of the story.’

Of course if that’s true about today’s headlines, it’s probably even more true about the life of faith. The victories we win and the challenges we face tend to make the most sense when viewed from the larger perspective of what our Heavenly Father is trying to do in our lives and in the world. The inspiring stories and the startling promises of scripture can only be understood correctly when seen within the context of “The Grand Story of God” – that begins in a garden…that ends in a Holy City…and that is signed by the Author on every page.

For these reasons and more, our church is preparing to engage in a special discipleship emphasis called “The Story.” During the season of Lent—the weeks that begin on Sunday, February 26 and lead up to Easter on Sunday, April 8—we will examine together “The Story” of the Bible. Our goal will be to gain insight into what God is doing in the world…and to see more clearly the ways that His Story intersections with our stories.

There are many ways for you to participate in “The Story.” Our Sunday morning messages during this emphasis will focus on the overarching plot of scripture: Where did it all begin? Where will it all end? And how does this help us make sense of God’s call in our lives along the way? In addition, many of our Sunday School classes will spend this time focusing on “The Story of Jesus,” allowing us to see the way that all God’s plans find their fulfillment and highest expression in him. Finally, one of our Wednesday Night Family Night offerings will be “God’s Story – Your Story,” a Bible study developed by Max Lucado that helps us see the connections between what God did in Christ and what God is doing in us.

I hope you’ll plan to be a part of “The Story,” and with that goal in mind, I’d like to ask three things of you…

1. Will you make every effort to be with us on Sunday mornings, Wednesday nights or both as we seek to deepen our understanding of God’s Word?
2. Will you pray that God will use “The Story” to inspire us and to give us a clearer picture of what He desires from us and for us?
3. Will you invite others to worship and study with us as we draw nearer to God and each other?

God is writing an incredible Story – in you…in me…and in the church family that we call Calvary Baptist. And His Word promises that not even the gates of hell will be able overcome us when we submit to His will and pursue with passion His purposes for us. Wouldn’t you like to be a part of that? Wouldn’t you like to know…the rest of The Story?

I don’t know about you, but this is the kind of thing that makes me wonder—deep down in some secret part of my soul—if maybe we Christians have it all wrong. I mean, come on: if supposedly holy men can get into a knock-down, drag-out fight—right in the very spot that Jesus was born—over something as trivial as who gets to clean which part of the manger…then something’s not right. If the grace and love that we receive through Christ can’t produce more meaningful change than this, then maybe we misunderstood something…or maybe the message wasn’t that true and powerful to begin with.

Of course, this example of our human capacity to let petty rivalry and self-centeredness trump the beautiful message of reconciliation through Christ is probably so frustrating only because it’s so obvious and so ridiculous. The truth is – that every day – every one of us is “giving testimony” to the true power of the gospel. We either “spread the fragrance of the knowledge of Christ” (2 Corinthians 2:14-16) by living in ways that are compassionate and forgiving and full of grace…or we raise an “unholy stink” by living in ways that are prejudiced and contentious and prideful.

Jesus once said, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples: if you love one another” (John 13:35)…and hopefully, there won’t be any “broom-swinging” church fights in my congregation or yours any time soon. But I can’t help but wonder: as people look at our church family in the year ahead, will they see things that make the gospel less believable – or more believable? Will we draw them to Christ through lives that are holy and unified and passionate about God’s kingdom? Or will we make them scratch their heads and think, “You’ve got to be kidding”?

May God so move within and among us in this New Year that all who come into contact with us will sense the “aroma of Christ”…and may we truly be able to say (with the prophet Isaiah): “Yes, LORD, walking in the way of Your laws, we wait for You; Your name and renown are the desire of our hearts” (Isaiah 26:8).

My father was a singer – and a good one! Trained at a well-known music conservatory, he had sung with symphony orchestras, in musical theater productions, and in countless churches. So it’s really no surprise that in the small-town church of my childhood, he was one of the ‘anchor voices’ in the church choir. But at our congregation’s annual Christmas Eve service, my dad would leave the choir. He’d sneak away into the balcony, positioning himself where he couldn’t be seen. Then – during that portion of worship where candles were lit and the Christmas Story read – he would sing, “O Holy Night,” his voice filling the sanctuary like sacred incense – and filling me with pride (because – after all – that was my dad).

But more than allowing me to hear the voice of my father, those moments introduced me to the voice of The Father. They awakened my soul to what the ancient teachers of the Church called the “mysterium tremendum et fascinans”—the tremendous and fascinating mystery that is the holy presence of God. And I suppose it must be said…that to this day…the thing that I most desire in the Christmas season is that God will allow me to experience again those moments of sacred wonder—moments when lights and music and the closeness of family and friends become the doorway to something even deeper and more life-changing: the reality that God Is with Us.

Thankfully, the awareness of God’s holy presence is not limited to candlelight worship services on Christmas Eve. God can slip into our lives in all kinds of unexpected ways and at all sorts of unexpected places…which is kind of what the Christmas story is all about. How and where will you discover the holy mystery of God’s nearness this Christmas?

My dear friends, I’m thankful for all the ways that you have been the presence of Christ to me this year. And I pray that God will fill your season with “O Holy Nights”…and “O Holy Days”…and with countless reminders that you are loved with an everlasting love.

But having said all that, I also find that my typical observance of Christmas leaves some points of discomfort in my heart. For all their beauty and familiarity, I know that many of my favorite carols present a highly sanitized view of the holiday — all glory and peace and a beautiful babe in a manger, with very little of the agony and struggle of being a poor, unwed mother giving birth in a stinking animal barn. While all the decorations might be a completely appropriate way to celebrate the joy of a Savior’s birth, I can’t help but wonder if that same Savior might prefer that we focus more on being lights than on stringing them. And as for the gifts…well, ignoring completely the issue of “seasonal commercialization,” I simply find that more and more these days, I struggle to “find the perfect gift” for people who – in truth – don’t need anything (which reminds me, of course, that as much as I like receiving gifts, I don’t need anything, either).

Perhaps my misgivings about the season are captured in the title of a book by Pastor Mike Slaughter: Christmas Is Not Your Birthday. In the book, Slaughter comments, “At Christmas, we celebrate the birth of the Messiah who was born not only to die sacrificially for us but also to show us how to live sacrificially…Most folks would rather have a holly, jolly Christmas than to give themselves as a ‘womb’ for an honest-to-God Christmas miracle.”

How would the Jesus who we meet in the gospels want us to celebrate His birthday? With songs and decorations and presents? Sure. But perhaps even more with moments of stillness and prayer and waiting on God. Perhaps even more with deeds of compassion and forgiveness and reconciliation. Perhaps most of all with hearts that aren’t looking back to see the Child in the manger, but are looking around to see this same Savior at work in the world, so that we can join Him there.

I pray that all of you will have a very Merry Christmas. But amid the merriment, let’s remember: Christmas is not our birthday. May our celebration bring true honor to the One whose birthday it is.

Left to my own devices, I’m sure that I would have found some way to cram as much as possible into the days before my holiday departure. After all, my work as a pastor offers me a never-ending supply of visits that could be made, sermons that could be researched, and ministries that could be planned. But since my mind is a little on the fuzzy side (and since I have no desire to share my contagion with others), I’ve had to content myself with slowing down a bit. I’ve done some sleeping and some reading. I’ve sent a few emails and made a few phone calls. And somewhere amid this temporary downshift, I’ve been reminded–in more than a cursory way–that I’ve got a lot for which to be thankful.

Given the opportunity to reflect, I’m freshly cognizant of what a full year this has been. I’ve left one church family and have accepted a call to a new one. I’ve said goodbye to a number of dear friends and have begun the joyful (and sometimes exhausting) work of building new relationships. I’ve sold a home (no easy feat, given the current state of our economy) and have moved into a new neighborhood. And along the way there have been questions and fears and prayers and tears and–most of the time, at least–a genuine sense that God is working His purposes out.

Of course, I still hope to be more-or-less “completely healthy” by the time Thanksgiving Day rolls around. But for today, I’m thankful for this minor illness, which has helped me to go slow enough to give thanks. And to all my friends – both old and new – I wish for you a “Slow Thanksgiving.” May God give you enough unhurried moments to see His presence and His blessing.

Later this month, we will have another opportunity to celebrate our shared faith and mission. Our church—along with several others—will sponsor a “Fellowship on the Move” gathering of the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship of North Carolina. The event will take place on Thursday, November 10, at Flat Rock Baptist Church and will include a dinner (at 5:30 PM), a selection of training sessions (6:30 PM), and a time of worship (7:30 PM).  The evening will not dwell on business sessions or theological debates –  just brothers and sisters in Christ encouraging one another to walk in a manner worthy of the calling we have received (Ephesians 4:1).

I hope that we can embrace and turn out for gatherings like these—not just because these are partner organizations which we support and which it therefore behooves us to understand—but because there are at least a couple of key truths that our relationship with these partners underscores.

First, they remind us that we are a body. When we give our hearts and lives to Jesus, we do more than make a decision that brings us personal spiritual blessings. We get incorporated into the Church (and not just a church—as in Calvary Baptist Church—but THE CHURCH: the one great family of faith that spans every tribe and nation and people and language and generation and denomination and theological persuasion…) and as members of The Church, we belong to each other. We need the gifts that others offer, and they need ours…even when we have varying opinions about worship and church leadership and the fine points of various theological debates.

Second, gatherings like these remind us that the mission is bigger than we are. We have been sent to seek and to save the world that God so loves. And no one person…no one congregation…no one association…not even one denomination…is ever going to be able to fulfill that mission alone. It takes all kinds people…all kinds of approaches…and all kinds of styles and emphases. As a result, we do well to partner with others (and not just with our dollars, but also with our prayers and our hands-on ministry) because when we do so, we take one more step toward accomplishing the grander purpose for which we exist.

Come to think of it, these aren’t bad principles for us to keep in mind as we nurture our partnerships within the family that we call Calvary Baptist Church. We are a body…and the mission is bigger than we are. And so it takes all kinds of folks—folks who like traditional worship and folks who like contemporary worship…folks who like the SBC and folks who like the CBF…folks who are financially secure and folks who are financially struggling…folks who need grace and…(well, that includes all of us, don’t you think?)—it takes all of us to be the Christ-centered, caring church that God has called us to be.

I’m so thankful to be part of this body, and I can’t wait to see all the things that God will do within and among and through us as we partner in mission together. May God bring us together around the cross of our Savior, and may His love compel us to offer our lives to Him, to each other, and to the mission that we share.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.

Years ago, the professor in one of my Old Testament classes suggested that these words – rather than being an inspirational description of the Holy City – were actually an expression of faith and hope. Because there was no river in Jerusalem. Just the trust (as the Psalm goes on to say) that

God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.

Of course, I’ve not had the chance to visit Jerusalem. So I can’t testify one way or the other to its rivers and streams (or the absence thereof). But for this afternoon at least, my heart could certainly resonate with the idea of a river “whose streams make glad.” And the gladness came, I think, not from the beauty of the river (although the Ararat certainly was beautiful today)…nor from the utility of the river (although I’m sure that Ararat serves some useful function as it flows through Mount Airy)…but from the simple “is-ness” of it—from the fact that “there is a river” that flows through my hometown, just like there is a God, who allows his good and beautiful and gracious Spirit to flow through me.

So thank you, Father, for time to ride…time to notice…and time to give praise to You, who are my all.

Of course, as wonderful as all this appreciation is, I do hope you know that it’s not the kind of response that I’m really seeking. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to be appreciated for the work I do. I’m sure that just about all of us would feel the same. But what I truly desire—the ‘best thanks’ I can ever receive—is for you to open your hearts and lives even more fully to God. If you’ll allow me to paraphrase one of my favorite passages of scripture: “To obey is better than sacrifice…and to listen is better than the fat of rams (or the giving of generous gift certificates)” (1 Samuel 15:22, with apologies for unauthorized textual additions). The ultimate appreciation that this pastor seeks (and in the end, the appreciation that I believe God seeks) is that we would seek God eagerly, love Him whole-heartedly, and serve Him passionately through our church and in our daily lives. That’s challenging, of course, because all of us have so many demands pressing in upon our time and energy. But this is what being a “Christ-centered, caring church” is all about: placing Jesus at the heart of all we do so that in all we do – God get’s the glory.

There’s a Hallmark card I send from time-to-time. The front of the card declares plainly, “This is a Thank-You Note.” Inside, the card reads, “Please don’t send me a note thanking me for this note, or I shall be forced to send you a thank-you note thanking you for the note thanking me for the note.” That fits (in a mildly-amusing and appropriate way), since right now we find ourselves caught up in a circle of mutual appreciation. But I pray that our shared gratitude will now find even greater expression in lives that overflow with enthusiasm for God’s work among us.

Thanks to you all!

Pastor Alex

One element of the funeral experience that still has a surprising power for me is the drive from the chapel to the cemetery. I don’t know what other people do with those moments, but for me they are usually silent ones—used to reflect on the comments that have been shared in worship and that will be shared at the graveside. But the thing that makes the drive “surprisingly powerful” is the way that the community responds to the funeral procession as it passes.

You need to understand; I spent the early years of my ministry in a very busy, urban area. In that environment, there was no way that you could stop traffic for a long line of cars, making their slow trip to the cemetery. So after a funeral ended, the time for the graveside service was announced, and people generally got there as well as they could…by whatever route they could.

But here in Mount Airy (and, I’m sure, in other small towns throughout the South), we still make that slow and solemn journey of grief together, and—in an amazing way—the town grieves with us. People let the parade move along uninterrupted, regardless of what the traffic lights say. And many drivers still pull off to the side of the road as a sign of respect for the deceased.

Now, as a sign of respect, this practice of pulling off the road does seem to have a certain “holy appropriateness” to it. It helps us remember, I think, that we truly are connected to one another in a deep and sacred way (regardless of whether or not we like to admit it). I’m reminded of the famous passage from the 17th century poet, John Donne: “No man is an island; entire of itself…Each man’s death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind. Therefore, send not to know for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee.”

But I also wonder—in this case, at least—if our practice is somehow backward. Don’t get me wrong; it is a good thing to pull over for a passing funeral. But the fact is that we’re paying respect to someone who can no longer appreciate it. At the same time, we rush and speed past living souls…persons created in God’s image and made uniquely for His purpose…individuals who certainly deserve at least as much respect as we show to those who are deceased. As theologian C.S. Lewis reminds us:

“It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses…to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you meet may one day be a creature which—if you saw it now—you would be strongly tempted to worship…or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations.” (C. S. Lewis in Mere Christianity)

I’m sure that my work will continue to involve me in funerals. And I suspect that members of our community will continue to show respect by pulling over as funeral processions pass (at least I hope they will). But maybe once in a while, we ought to pull off to the side of the road (or stand off to the side of the hall) and pay attention…because passing by us is a glorious procession of God’s children, all so valuable that Jesus Christ would give his life for each and every one. Maybe then, we’d show some respect for the living. And wouldn’t that be a practice worth celebrating?