I break my unexpected holiday from posting due to tragedy. Pastor Kyle Lake of University Baptist Church here in Waco died yesterday after being electrocuted when he grabbed a microphone while baptizing a lady. Halfway through our church service at Church Under the Bridge, some members from UBC rushed over to tell us he was in a coma and to pray for him. Immediately, we joined together in solidarity to pray for Kyle. Approximately 45 minutes later at the end of the service, we were informed that Kyle had indeed passed away.

I didn't really know Kyle as I've only had a couple conversations with him. But I know he was considered a wonderful husband and father of 3 young children. He was also well respected not only around Baylor, but throughout the community among both rich and poor.

After the initial shock passed upon hearing the news, a sense of anger boiled up within me and has remained with me for the nearly 24 hours now. It kept me up last night. It made me toss and turn and lose much sleep. And it made me question God.

The questions/remarks that I find myself continuously repeating look something like this:

"This is ridiculous. How in God's name could this happen? What was God thinking? In one of the holiest moments in a Christian's life nonetheless!"

I mean, of all the commandments of Christ, the only one we Christ-followers have faithfully upheld would be baptism.

What good can come of this?

I met with a friend yesterday for lunch and he gave the typical "As bad as it seems, God has a plan to come out of this." I did my best to not roll my eyes and tried to chew on that thought for a few moments. Perhaps my friend is right. But nevertheless, this makes no sense. As I find my faith being shaken and crumbled to its very core, I'm a bit grateful that I'm working this out but angrier still that this is what it takes for me to test, mature, and develop my faith.

I went to bed last night listening to one of Kyle's sermons that I had on cd. Oddly enough, the sermon was about eternal life. Kyle correctly stated that we typically look at eternal life as something that happens once we die, once we get to heaven. Then he pointed out John 17, where Christ prays to Father on behalf of his disciples and us. In the prayer, Christ defines eternal life simply as knowing God. In other words, eternal/everlasting life isn't simply something that happens when we're "put 6 feet under", as Kyle said in the sermon, it's something that happens here and now. It provides us with a kind of life that is a glimpse of things to come.

In my anger and confusion, Kyle's words from 2 years ago soothed this wayward soul. If anything can come from this Lord, I pray it be that many come to know you--myself included--and thus catch glimpses of what Kyle is experiencing forevermore.

Yesterday I volunteered to prune our landscape garden...not exactly sure why I signed up for such a task to tell the truth. At first, I was quite miserable as I was trying to cut, snip, or pull out any dead or unwanted weeds in the garden. The fire ants were out in full force and it seemed each stem I touched had a thorn on it. After a while though I found my rhythm and actually began to enjoy the whole pruning process. (Good thing, because I still had two hours to spend in the garden!)

While I was out there, I began to understand what Christ said in John 15 a little more:

I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.

Each bush or flower that was in the garden needed pruning it seemed. They would either have dead limbs that needed cutting off or weeds invading its space that need pulling out. In another case, some mint had grown over the path a little bit and needed to be trimmed back a few inches. As branches in Christ, the true vine, we need the parts of us that have died or wasted away to be cut off of us so we can experience new growth. Sometimes we've been overcome by a vine that isn't of Christ, so we need to be freed from it.

Though the process was tedious, I found myself enjoying the last parts of pruning. I liked shaping the bushes and seeing a prettier finished product.

I couldn't help but imagine God smiling as he cuts away our dead parts and makes us more beautiful for the vine of Christ.

I came across two quotes yesterday while reading the latest edition of Christianity Today:

Nearly every pastor is a salesman or a marketer of one kind or another because...we have a philosophy to sell. The best marketers and best salesmen will have more converts, will have more people, will take in more money.

-From the vice president of pastoral ministries at Focus on the Family



They believe that they answer to a higher power, in my opinion. Which is the kind of thinking that you had with the people who flew the airplanes into the buildings in this country, and the people who did the kind of things in London.

-From the Louisiana director of the ACLU, when talking about efforts by local Christians trying to have more prayer in schools and at school board meetings.

For almost 10 years now, I've been "in the know" when it comes to keeping up with what's going on with Christianity in America. I spent 5 years at two Baptist universities, 3 years as a youth minister, and 5 years at a well-established not-for-profit Christian organization. Now that I'm at World Hunger Relief, I feel a bit relieved to be relatively removed from media-both Christian and non.

However, reading the aforementioned quotes yesterday reminded me of problems that are still very real and very much alive today. The first quote, from a presumed minister of one of the largest, most famous, and respected institutions within Amercian Christianity, is simply a sampling of what seems to be happening among church leaders. For example, last weekend I heard on the radio the results of a survey of thousands of pastors in the country who have worked at more than one church. The pastors were asked why they moved from one church to the next and, shocking to me, a higher percentage noted higher pay rather than a response to the call of God as the reason to why they left one church for another.

So, on the one hand, we have pastors (on the back roads and in the big cities) who, without any qualms about it, are searching for success primarily through financial results.

And on the other hand, we have Christian leaders who fall into the category of the second quote listed above. While pushing for Christ-alive in the schools is a noble calling, to me it's at the point where lines are being drawn on both sides. Those in favor of the movement are pushing with such fervor that to even abstain from such an issue means to be at odds with your neighbor. Meanwhile, those opposing the movement are having an easy time putting labels on evangelicals as a whole as a result of the ongoing struggle.

So what's a concerned, thinking believer to do? When a large percentage of our leaders admit without regret that financial means has a louder voice than the Holy Spirit and when a large part of the laity is inviting more unfair stereotypes by being so passionate about a topic that is trivial to most in America (including other believers), what's the remedy?

Is there even one?

40 Days would be nice right about now. I weedwhacked the pecan orchard on Monday in order to keep growth down around our sprinkler-heads. Come to find out, the 'growth' that I was keeping down was poison ivy--the weed from the devil that haunts my every nightmare. (I'm so sensitive to that mess that I can get an allergic reaction just by looking at it!) I had virtually every inch of my body covered in clothing but the ivy still found a way to cover my arms, face, and legs. That said, 2 days, 2 sleepless nights, and 2 eyes swollen shut later is when I decided to go to the doctor for a quick fix. Things are looking up for now, but I'd certainly be happy not to have to go into that orchard for another 40 days.

Besides, we all know Christ spent 40 days in the wilderness before the beginning of his ministry. And look what those 40 days did for him! Furthermore, Antony of Egypt spend 20 years in the wilderness before embarking on his mission field. So, if the pecan orchard is going to be my 'field' for the next year or so...perhaps I should go on a fast from it...you know, just for 40 days or so.

Faith and I went camping this past weekend at Colorado Bend State Park, which is the main reason why I've neglected posting in nearly a week. It was our first camping trip together since marriage, so we were definitely due for some time away. The scenery was beautiful and the hiking & kayaking was exciting, to say the least. The companionship was definitely enjoyable as well...as Faith and I went with another fairly-newly married couple from church. Not too much to go into as far as details go--to the uninvolved it would sound like any other camping trip, while in reality it was much much more. That said, a quick story ensues:

On Saturday morning, the four of us decided to take a short, guided tour to a spot in the park called Gorman Falls. It's a beautiful, spring-fed waterfall that drops 60-70 into the Colorado River. While at the falls, I noticed plenty of leaves falling off of the surrounding trees. (Now this may seem ordinary or dull, but for me this was quite thrilling, as I've always had a keen interest in watching leaves fall and flutter down to earth.)

Reminiscent of the autumns in Virginia, these colored leaves seemed out of place in the 90-degree heat of Texas. Regardless, I watched with gratitude as these bits and pieces of the trees flipped and fluttered...at times, seeming as if they were parachuting.

Some landed in bushes.
Others on the bank next to the creek.
Still others would land in the water below the falls and race through the rapids into unknown waters.

During these brief moments, I sat in awe over the vulnerability of the leaves as they fell off the tree. It's as if they dropped from their perch, whether by choice or by some force outside of their control, and found themselves completely at the mercy of another being (i.e. the wind, other leaves or trees). As I watched this leaf and the next tumble to their unknown (and unexpected) destination, I couldn't help but draw parallels.

And I'll leaf it at that.