Macomb, Ill., the community my wife and I called home from 2003-2009, was rocked today by a shooting and subsequent hostage situation inside Farm King, a local farm supply retailer. A nearly six-hour standoff ensued, ending only when the gunman – a 19 year-old male – killed himself.
Ordinarily I wouldn’t mention an incident like this on this site. But since I read that the story was picked up by news outlets in the St. Louis market, I thought I might head off any questions by acknowledging that, yes, I am aware of what happened, and no, I was not in Macomb when it happened.
My employer, Genesis Image Builders, is headquartered in Macomb, and I typically report to our office there at least one day per week. Farm King happens to be one of our clients, and our office is on the same side of town as their store. I have been inside that store on many occasions, both as a shopper and while helping produce television commercials. But not today, thankfully.
While I am saddened that the gunman took his own life, I am happy no one else was injured. When we lived in Macomb, my wife worked right across the street from Farm King. She said one of her former coworkers (who still is a close friend) often shops at the store during her lunch hour – right about the time the initial shooting occurred.
Today, however, we are grateful that our friends were far from the field of fire when the shooting occurred. Meanwhile, the Farm King employees and shoppers who were in the store at the time of the incident are in our prayers.
Kurt Warner speaks during a press conference to announce his retirement from the National Football League. (Photo by Christian Petersen/Getty Images North America)
On Friday, January 29, Kurt Warner held a press conference to make it official: the Arizona Cardinal’s quarterback announced he was retiring after 12 seasons in the National Football League.
During that time, Warner put together a very impressive resume: two NFL MVP awards, five Pro Bowls, three Super Bowl appearances, one Super Bowl MVP, and numerous alterations to the NFL record book.
In the past few days, several sports talk personalities have noted that Warner’s greatest football accomplishments are not his eye-popping passing statistics or the numerous awards he has collected. Rather, his greatest achievements have been changing the cultures of two of the NFL’s worst teams, transforming both the St. Louis Rams and the Arizona Cardinals from perennial losers into football powerhouses.
In 1999, Warner came out of nowhere to lead the Rams to a 13-3 record and a Super Bowl win over the Tennessee Titans. Prior to Warner’s ascension to the starting quarterback position, the Rams had been absolutely awful. The team moved to St. Louis in 1995: from 1995-1998, the male sheep posted a 22-42 record. They were the laughingstock of the NFL, the punchline to a joke.
Then Warner took over, and during the next three seasons the Rams went 37-11 and made two Super Bowl appearances, winning one title.
Injuries eventually led to Warner’s exit from the Gateway City. After a short stint with the New York Giants, he resurfaced with another of the NFL’s all-time worst teams: the Arizona Cardinals.
The Cardinals won a championship in 1947, but in the following 51 seasons, the team made the playoffs just four times. During that time they bounced from Chicago to St. Louis to the Southwest, but regardless of where they hung their hat, one thing remained the same: their on-field performance was downright awful.
Kurt Warner gets ready for Super Bowl XLIII against the Pittsburgh Steelers on February 1, 2009. (Photo by Jamie Squire/Getty Images)
Then Warner arrived and led the team to two consecutive playoff appearances in 2008-09 and the team’s first Super Bowl appearance at the conclusion of the 2008 season. His final home game with the Cardinals, played just a few weeks ago, was a thrilling 51-45 playoff win over the Green Bay Packers. Warner turned in a nearly flawless performance, completing 29 of 33 passes for five touchdowns.
But what I loved most about this former grocery store stock clerk was his unabashed faith in Jesus Christ and his willingness to publicly proclaim that devotion at every opportunity. That included the moments following his Super Bowl XXXIV triumph, when, on national television, he declared, “First things first, I’ve got to thank my Lord and Savior up above – thank You, Jesus!”
I remember watching that Super Bowl and basking in the glow of the Ram’s amazing win. I also remember that, following Warner’s public profession of thanks to Jesus Christ, player after player followed suit in praising God for their win. My grandfather, a longtime sports fan, commented that the Rams were the most religious professional sports team he had ever seen. It was just another testament to Warner’s influence as a leader on and off the field.
Those who know Warner well say his faith is not just talk. St. Louis Post-Dispatch columnist Bernie Miklasz, who covered Warner during the quarterback’s six seasons in the Gateway City, had this to say in his column on the day following Warner’s retirement press conference:
We’ve been exposed to many scandals and scoundrels as of late, and it’s depressing. But even as he left, Kurt Warner stood above the muck. He was the real thing, from the beginning to the end. It was an honor to watch him, and to know him.
John Maxwell shares a very interesting story about his father, Melvin Maxwell. The senior Maxwell grew up Georgetown, Ohio, a small community not far from Dayton. As a young man, Melvin Maxwell noticed there were three citizens in Georgetown who were much more successful than the rest. Most of the community was, in John Maxwell’s words, “average.”
While in high school, Melvin Maxwell had the opportunity to perform chores for each of these three prominent Georgetown personalities. In the process, he noticed that one important characteristic separated them from the rest of the pack: all three had a positive attitude.
“How they thought was the greatest separator between their success and the rest of us who were kind of average or a little bit below average,” the older Maxwell told his famous son.
Melvin Maxwell also admitted that, at that point, he naturally had a negative, cynical bent in his own attitude. But upon seeing the positive impact that a good attitude had on the success of these three Georgetown residents, he said, “That was the day I made a choice.”
“I determined to go against what would be natural for me or easy for me, and I determined to have a good attitude,” Maxwell told his son. “From that point on, I felt that the attitude is the most important thing that I can work on in my life.”
John Maxwell relates that, throughout his life, he has always admired his father’s positive attitude. But that positive attitude wasn’t a byproduct of Melvin Maxwell’s personality: it was a choice he made as a young man.
If there is one choice we can make this year that will change our lives, it is the choice to change our attitude.
For more on attitude, click here to watch a great interview between John Maxwell and Joyce Meyer.
Late December is a time for making New Year’s resolutions. Many people focus on weight loss and money management, but how about another suggestion: resolving to be a catalyst for positive change in your local church during 2010.
(I’m assuming that most readers of this blog attend church on a weekly basis: if you don’t, forming that habit should be your top priority in the coming year.)
Making a positive difference in your local church is easier than you think – and you don’t have to be the senior pastor to make an impact. Here are four simple resolutions that, if adopted, can help move your local church in a positive direction.
Stop criticizing, start praying. Sure, it’s a lot easier to criticize and second-guess church leadership, but, in the end, those activities accomplish nothing. Prayer, on the other hand, “is powerful and effective,” the Apostle James said (James 5:16, New International Version). Check out this guide for tips on praying effectively for church leaders.
Put your money where your mouth is. The church is a little bit like a certificate of deposit: the more you put in, the more you’ll get out. So don’t be scared to invest. And don’t forget that you owe God 10 percent of your income upfront (Malachi 3:8-10), plus an additional freewill offering.
Just do it. I read a story about Tommy Barnett, pastor of Phoenix First Assembly of God. A member of the congregation complained to Barnett that the church didn’t offer a particular ministry. When the church member asked why Phoenix First didn’t offer that ministry, Barnett replied, “Because you haven’t started it.”
If you see something that needs to be done in your local church, adopt Nike’s slogan: “Just do it.”
Never worship alone. Bring someone with you to this weekend’s worship service. It’s the first Sunday of the year, and the perfect time to begin cultivating the best habit of all: bringing your friends and family to church. You might just end up seeing their lives changed forever.
Incorporate these four simple habits into your life, and, one year from now, neither you or your church will be the same.
The year was 1987, and I was just beginning the 5th grade when I visited Six Flags St. Louis for the first time. It was a family trip, with my mom, dad, brother, and several aunts and cousins going along.
Prior to this day, I had been to a few carnivals and town fairs and ridden the Ferris Wheel, spinning saucers and other ubiqitous amusements found all over America on the 4th of July or Labor Day. But this was my first trip to a bona fide amusement park, with real roller coasters and rides that were too big to move once the weekend was over.
When we entered the park, the first ride we encountered was a roller coaster known as the Jet Scream. As I recall, the Jet Scream began with a precipitous climb, followed by a lightning fast plunge, giving the cars enough speed to complete one full loop. There wasn’t really much more than that, as I recall. I doubt the entire trip lasted much more than 30 seconds. Compared to many of the roller coasters offered at Six Flags today, the Jet Scream was nothing special.
The Jet Scream, Six Flags St. Louis
As we climbed into one of the cars, my dad draped his arm around my younger brother’s neck. One of the attendants came by and asked him to remove it, warning, “You could break his neck once this ride gets going.” That was our first sign we were in for an experience.
For a kid who had never been on anything faster than the Heart Flip at the town festival, the Jet Scream was 30 seconds of pure terror. My heart plunged along with the coaster, and we were viciously hurled through the loop and out the other side.
And just like that, it was over. I climbed out of the car, legs trembling, half-sick and scared witless. In that moment, I reached an important conclusion: I hated roller coasters.
For the rest of the day, I did my best to avoid a repeat performance. While everyone else rode the Screaming Eagle, Six Flags’ signature coaster, my feet remained planted on the terra firma. I had learned my lesson and didn’t need another.
Sometime later, my family and some friends made another trip to Six Flags. I went along, but managed to avoid climbing on anything that looked even slightly titillating. Suffice it to say it was a rather boring day.
After that, I managed to avoid Six Flags altogether. Schoolmates, friends and family members made annual treks, sometimes offering to take me along. But the answer was always no. I was content to keep my distance.
Then, in 2002, it happened. I was the brand new youth pastor at Calvary Tabernacle in Quincy, and the church youth group had a tradition: every summer, they took a trip to Six Flags.
I was now 24 and leading a group of 12-18 year olds. And if there was one thing I was determined not to do, it was look weak in front of my flock. I scheduled that Six Flags trip and braced myself for the Day of Reckoning. I was determined to endure a day of roller coaster rides even if it killed me.
When the Big Day arrived and we walked through the gates of the park, my old nemesis, the Jet Scream, was gone. In it’s place was a metal monstrosity designed to be twice as frightening: Batman: The Ride.
I could attempt to describe Batman: The Ride to you, but instead, I offer this line from a Wikipedia article about the coaster:
Numerous guests often complain about headaches, dizziness, and nausea after riding Batman due to intense G-forces on the ride, especially in the portion of track including the wingovers, after the second loop.
Needless to say, Batman: The Ride made the Jet Scream look like child’s play. But I was determined. I clenched my jaw, waited in line, and climbed aboard.
And we were off. The motor began pulling the cars towards the pinnacle of the track, preparing for the inevitable descent the provided the momentum to complete the rest of the ride. I could feel my chest tightening with every second that passed.
But somewhere along the trip, a strange sensation crept through my body. I actually was beginning to feel more excitement and adrenaline than fear. And by the time Batman: The Ride reached its final destination and I disembarked, I had reached a conclusion.
I loved roller coasters.
I spent the rest of the day riding every coaster in the park, including the gravity-defying Mr. Freeze. I barely touched any other type of ride, and didn’t take even a single trip down Thunder River, one of my childhood favorites. I did squeeze in a trip on the Highland Fling, a demented Ferris Wheel-type device that spins the rider upside down. I had been too scared to even get close to the Highland Fling as a kid, but now, in my newfound lust for an ever-greater adrenaline rush, I found it a little monotonous. I even rode the Screaming Eagle, which also seemed a little dull compared to some of the newer offerings.
I discovered something else that day, too, that was far more important than the thrill of a roller coaster. I was reminded that life’s greatest rewards usually come when we push past our fears and take a risk.
As humans, we’re usually content to stay in our safety zone. We do everything in our power to avoid anything that makes us uncomfortable. And in doing so, we miss opportunites to enjoy new and exciting experiences. We miss opportunities to grow.
In 2010, I encourage you to step out and do the thing that scares you to death. Take a risk. Go on an adventure. Do something radical.
Ride the roller coasters.
Prayer line in Columbus, Ohio in 1965
The big news in the religious world today was the passing or famous televangelist Oral Roberts, the founder of Oral Roberts University in Tulsa, Okla. Roberts was 91 years old and living in Newport Beach, Calif. at the time of his death.
There will be many opinions voiced about Roberts in the coming days, but one thing is undeniable: he made an indelible impact on American Christendom, particularly the modern Pentecostal/Charismatic Movement.
Like many Pentecostal ministers, Roberts was of humble origins. The Tulsa World describes how Roberts got his start in the ministry:
At the age of 17, Roberts was told he had tuberculosis. He was bedridden for months, and doctors gave no hope for his life.
On the way to a healing revival in a nearby town, Roberts said God told him that he was going to be healed and that he would take God’s healing power to his generation.
Roberts said the TB left him at the revival that night. The healing was later confirmed by a clinic in Ada. In addition, a stuttering problem was gone, and two months later he gave his first sermon.
Oral Roberts in 1948
Roberts was soon ministering to the masses using the newest forms of technology, including television. His name eventually became nearly synonymous with the term “televangelist.”
My devoutly Pentecostal family were not Roberts’ adherents: in fact, the only time I recall his name coming up in conversation was when my mother spoke disapprovingly of his famous January 1987 declaration that, unless he raised $8 million by March, God would “call him home.” Regardless of my mother’s disgust, Roberts’ plea worked: he raised over $9 million.
Besides his theatrical fundraising effort, Roberts was especially noted for conducting healing crusades. The following is a video clip of Roberts praying for a boy who has been crippled by polio. According to the on-screen text, the incident takes place in Florence, S.C. in 1955. The clip gives the viewer a bit of the flavor of Roberts’ ministry.
Psalm 105:14-15 He suffered no man to do them wrong: yea, he reproved kings for their sakes; Saying, Touch not mine anointed, and do my prophets no harm. (King James Version)
"Abraham's Departure" by József Molnár (Courtesy of Wikipedia)
Throughout my life, I have heard Psalm 105:15 quoted as a warning of the danger of speaking against the ministry, particularly the pastor. While I do believe it is a sin to assault or undermine the preacher (I am one, after all), this interpretation falls far short of the real meaning of this verse.
First, it must be noted that the writer (1st Chronicles 16:7 attributes the words of Psalm 105 to King David) is speaking directly about Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and their descendants, the Jews. He references the everlasting covenant God made with Abraham’s offspring, and then recounts their wanderings among the nations. During that time, David notes, God “reproved kings for their sakes; saying, Touch not mine anointed, and do my prophets no harm.”
Abraham, Isaac and Jacob weren’t “ministers” in the modern sense of the word. They were nomads, roaming across the modern-day Middle East. Their lives were marked with extraordinary displays of faith, as well as some very big mistakes. But God had called them, and He was willing to rebuke and even punish heads of state who crossed Abraham and his offspring.
While Psalm 105:14-15 speaks directly of Abraham’s biological descendants, the Christian must remember the words of the Apostle Paul: “Know ye therefore that they which are of faith, the same are the children of Abraham” (Galatians 3:7, KJV). In 2 Corinthians 1:21, Paul also speaks of believers as being “anointed” by God.
In view of these verses, we must be very careful about how we treat all of God’s anointed, not just the ones who fill the pulpit on Sunday. It’s wrong to disparage the preacher, but it’s equally sinful to disparage the Sunday school teacher, the choir director, the usher, the cleaning crew or even the person who seems to do nothing more than keep the pew warm.
God was willing to afflict the Egyptian Pharaoh because of his unwitting offense against Abraham’s wife (Genesis 12:17), even though the incident seems to be largely Abraham’s fault. God still is ready to stand up for His people when they are maligned, mistreated and misused. Let it never be said of us that we were responsible for the mistreatment.
Beginning in early January, my wife and I plan to launch a new convert’s class at Calvary Tabernacle. Our church has been in desperate need of this type of ministry for some time, so I’m excited about having the opportunity to fill a hole.
We plan to schedule our class at 7 p.m. on Thursday, which also is the time the entire congregation comes together for Bible Study. We will conduct our new converts class while our pastor teaches the rest of the congregation. We hope that, by hosting our class during mid-week Bible Study, we can help new believers build a habit of faithfulness to God’s house.
I must admit, however, that I’m a novice at this type of ministry. I’ve been conducting some research into what other United Pentecostal Churches have been doing in this area, but I haven’t had the chance to speak with anyone directly who oversees a discipleship ministry. If you are responsible for this type of ministry at your church, I’d love to hear your insights into has and hasn’t worked for you.
Feel free to respond in the comments section of this post, or send me at e-mail through this site’s contact page. I’d love to hear how you have formatted your class and what materials you are using, as well as any other suggestions about how to successfully conduct this type of ministry.
God bless.
Last week I received a phone call from a friend who wanted to pick my brain about organizational structure in the church. I almost laughed. Like my friend, I’m basically a novice in this area. In fact, much of what I’ve attempted in this area in the past has failed, often because of a lack of quality leadership on my part.
However, this is a subject I have found myself contemplating quite often lately. I don’t have any pat answers, and I’m skeptical of those who say they do. But I do believe that before we discuss organizational structure, we first must determine our purpose, our reason for existence.
Thankfully, Jesus already took care of that for us. We Christians call it the “Great Commission.” Before He went back to Heaven, Jesus told His followers to “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:19-20, New International Version).
It doesn’t get any more straightforward: preach, teach and baptize. Or, to put it in even simpler terms, the church’s primary purpose is to evangelize the lost and turn them into disciples of Jesus Christ.
In my mind, everything we do should center on those two purposes. If our church organizational structures aren’t accomplishing these two goals, our structures should be dismantled and rebuilt in a fashion that brings results.
As an individual believer, I feel the challenge of the Spirit to structure my life in such a way that I can personally fulfill Jesus’ commission. I’m tired of just attending services, praying and reading my Bible. I want my efforts to lead to the eternal salvation of others.
I want to attend a church with a purpose, but I also acknowledge that my church needs members that are living with purpose. Only then can we really fulfill the mission Jesus assigned us.
