Greetings from your Director of Missions:
It’s 3:28 a.m. Restless night. Can’t sleep. Too much thinking. Wrapping one’s brain around something can be a hard thing. God knows I’ve got plenty of “something” to think about, just not enough brain for wrapping. My office secretary doesn’t help me sleep either, always saying, “Jack, you should read this or that!” Now she’s given me a “loaner” to read entitled—well, the subtitle is better, “God’s Annoying Love for Imperfect People.” Reading it reminds me of the elderly lady my wife, Beverly, saw standing at an automatic opening door leading into a store. She was deep in thought, unsure of her own feeble steps and getting caught in that automatic door as she attempted to enter. When Beverly asked her if she was OK, she replied, “I hate to think. It gives me the headache!”
This book has given me a “thinking headache.” Ever notice how just when you think you’ve got it all-together, it all comes un-together? Discovering your imperfections can be harsh. Leaves you exposed, uncomfortable. Your basic game of pretensions is unmasked and you pray no one will notice.
I’ve spent the last forty-two years noticing what church people hoped I wouldn’t notice. And with all my own imperfections, preaching for them I felt like the skunk who said to the ‘possum, “your breath smells bad!” Such is imperfection.
So what did I notice? Let me give you my most recent “notice-ification.” We all came for the meeting. The early arrivers got the best parking and the choice seats. Tension filled the air as people filled the building. Very little was spoken, except common courtesies. I noticed eyes speaking as opposed to lips. Lines were drawn. Nods of group approval given. People stifled what they really felt. I noticed that the unspoken words spoke the loudest.
All were there to fix whatever it was that was broken. Everyone was sincere but no one seemed to be on the same page. So I looked the people over again. We were all Christians, yet different. Our eyes looked wild. My question was, “How can porcupines dance together when getting close to each other is so impossible?” Ever been quilled by a porcupine? Me neither! But, I notice Christian people that night quill each other until driven apart; and I listened as may said, “quite possibly never to be drawn together again.”
Sobering words. We all saw the dance. And we left the ballroom realizing the ever-imposing truth that dancing the undanceable might be more true for us Baptists than we dare to think.
As I sit at the table, I risk one final look at my brothers and sisters in Christ. I noticed how unfinished they all were. I thought of Paul’s words in Philippians 1:6, “He that hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.” It had been an imperfect meeting held by imperfect people.
I’m old school, still following the sage wisdom of my seventh grade teacher at Bethel Junior High School who told me I would “never amount to anything in life.” Shucks, I knew that! Even at that young age, I knew what she didn’t know. When I walked that aisle in Riverside Baptist Church to receive Christ long prior to standing before her, He told me I could be a “somebody.” He began a “good work” in me, not a “finished work.” The change had started, the finishing process would last a lifetime. I’m still under construction, finding myself ever “Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of (my) faith…” Hebrews 12:2.
Just curious – “How’s that meeting worked out for you?” We’ll sit in the same ballroom come April. Shall we dance the undanceable?
Jack Holland
Interim DOM
