As a boy growing up in Alabama during the heat of the Civil Rights Movement, I was familiar with the name of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., but only as a name in a news headline or a textbook. With grandparents who were avid Wallace democrats, I knew a lot about the governor from Clio, but very little about the man who marched in Selma. That is, until 1982.

During my senior year at Jacksonville State University, I participated in a field trip to Atlanta with the Sociology Club. We visited several sites of social and cultural significance including the Atlanta Federal Corrections Facility, the Grady Hospital, the Ebenezer Baptist Church and the King Center.

While touring the sanctuary of the Ebenezer Baptist Church, another student and I ventured into the pulpit and stood briefly where Dr. King had stood to preach. The hostess immediately reprimanded us, informing us that in their church tradition, only ministers of the gospel were allowed to “stand behind the sacred desk.”

I relieved her sense of alarm by informing her that I was a “licensed” Baptist minister and that my friend was preparing to be an Episcopal priest, a claim which our faculty sponsor confirmed for the hostess.

Upon learning of our ministerial affiliation, the hostess asked the two of us a few specific questions about our knowledge of Dr. King and then invited us to follow her to the King Center adjacent to the historic church. She led us through the Archives Area, and then through a door that was labeled “Authorized Personnel Only.”

Once inside, we discovered we were in an expansive storage facility with row after row of shelves containing hundreds of boxes. She took a couple of boxes from the shelves, opened them, and allowed us to view at the contents. We quickly realized that the hostess was giving us the privilege of examining some of Dr. King’s personal sermon notes, speeches, and correspondence. This information was being stored in the warehouse prior to being processed for the archives.

We observed notes that were mostly handwritten on hotel stationary, restaurant napkins, used mailing envelopes, and on the backside of “incoming” personal letters. While many respected orators labor intensively over manuscripts, revising multiple drafts in order to arrive at just the right script, it was obvious that Dr. King had a rhetorical gift for rendering a speech extemporaneously from a few scribbled thoughts.

After a half an hour or so, our time was up and we rejoined the others in our group. Only years later have I come to realize the distinct privilege given to me that day in Atlanta. Since that time, I have read most of Dr. King’s published writings as well as many commentaries and editorials about Dr. King’s life.

Dr. King courageously pursued his dream of equal opportunity for all persons, and he employed and encouraged non-violent means to advance a course toward civil rights. The voice and vision of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. helped shape a movement that began transforming our nation and our world, a movement that continues to this day.

(Dr. Barry Howard serves as senior minister of First Baptist Church of Pensacola, Florida.)

 

 “O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie.  Above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by.”

In recent years, in addition to trees, lights, candles, and angels, Christmas villages have become a trendy feature in Christmas décor. In our home we have a few Christmas village scenes featured in our holiday display.  These Dickenesque houses are lighted models of wintry landscape and architecture.

However, the original Christmas village, the one in the biblical Christmas story, was nothing like our English village scenes. The original Christmas village was rustic and somewhat rural.  The original Christmas village was Bethlehem of Judea.

Interestingly, a headline in The Washington Post this morning reads, “Little Palestinian town of Bethlehem wants its tourists, Christian residents to come back.”  Although the security barrier and a stagnant economy, including an unemployment rate of 23%, are significant challenges for local residents and tourists, the tourism industry is making a comeback this year, as 1.6 million people from around the world came to visit the village where Jesus was born.

Bethlehem is located on the West Bank, approximately 5.5 miles from Jerusalem.  The historical significance of this small town is rich in story and legend. It is near the place where Jacob buried Rachel, it was the home of Naomi and Ruth, it was the site where Samuel anointed David, and it later became known, prophetically, as the city of David. 

Bethlehem literally means “house of bread.” Bethlehem probably derived its name because it is located in one of the most fertile areas of Palestine.  The area abounded in wheat and barley and rye, the ingredients of bread, the stuff of life.  Biblically speaking, bread is a staple of life that poetically represents nurture, health, and provision.  It is no wonder that Jesus, who was born in Bethlehem, was called the “Bread of Life.”

In this small but strategic village, “Christ, the Savior” was born.  As you celebrate the birth of the one who taught us to break bread and share bread, may your festivities be characterized by a growing faith, good health, and a generous sharing of your abundance with those who are lacking.

 “Yet in thy dark streets shineth, the everlasting light.  The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.”

(Barry Howard serves as Senior Minister at the First Baptist Church in Pensacola, Florida.)

In the 1970’s when Interstate 20 opened between Atlanta and Birmingham, many local residents were looking forward to faster travel on the new freeway.  For years, my family had traveled to Birmingham from Anniston on old highway 78, a two-lane road that would take us past Lake Logan Martin near Pell City and over the mountains near Chula Vista.

After I-20 opened, I was excited to accompany my grandparents on our annual trip to the Eastwood Mall to see “the real Santa,” to ride the escalator in Pizitz Department Store, and to do a little Christmas shopping.  I was surprised, however, to find that my grandfather preferred to drive the old two lane highway rather than the new expressway.  He would often say something like, “The freeway is for people who are in a rush.  The scenic route is for people who want to enjoy the trip.”

I didn’t know anything about Advent back then, but now I understand that, in a sense, Advent really is the scenic route to Christmas.  There seems to be a subtle force in the ethos of our economy that pushes us to travel toward Christmas in the fast lane, implying that the season is all about shopping and spending, and acquiring and accumulating.  Advent encourages us to go slow and breathe in the scenery en route to Bethlehem.

As a young pastor, I was introduced to the colors and candles of Advent and my journey toward Christmas changed drastically.  Today, I am convinced more than ever that as mission-driven Christians who live in a market-driven culture, we need the reflective disciplines of Advent to keep us alert to stealth influences like materialism, busyness, and greed, illusive forces that aim to cloak the real message of the season and replace it with superficial slogans and commercial clichés. 

Advent is a time to listen for a truth that is bigger than words and to long for a gift that is other than stuff.  By helping us reconnect with the heart of the Christmas story, Advent challenges us to reject cultural notions of a Jesus who promises prosperity, success, and self-fulfillment, and calls us to follow the biblical Jesus who offers forgiveness, exemplifies simplicity, and teaches self-denial.

For the Christian, the season of Advent is like a scenic tour that begins with the promises of the prophets and concludes with the nativity narrative.  Advent is a journey of emerging expectation that culminates when the Christ candle is lighted and the Christmas Star shines over the manger in Bethlehem.

Somehow when we revisit the prophets and we re-read the gospels, we are better equipped to empathize with the anxiety of Mary and Joseph and to feel the labor pains of God. By observing Advent, when we celebrate the birth of the most renowned newborn in history, we can hear both the joyful sounds of angels singing and the repercussive sobs of Rachel weeping.

If we dare to avoid the expressway and we take the scenic route to Christmas, we may discover that we are willing to follow Jesus from the cradle to the cross and beyond.

(Barry Howard serves as senior minister at the First Baptist Church in Pensacola, Florida.)

 

As a kid growing up in rural Alabama, I never dreamed I would have the opportunity to travel broadly. For us, making the journey from Anniston to Eastwood Mall in Birmingham was like a mini-vacation.

Going to an exotic location, like Hawaii, seemed out of the question. However, in 1995 I made my first trip to Hawaii, and of course, Pearl Harbor was high on my list of sites to visit.

I was raised near Pelham Range and Fort McClellan in Calhoun County. Seeing military convoys traveling the highways and hearing artillery fire from the range was a routine part of life. Later, when I served as an associate minister at the First Baptist Church of Weaver, near the army base, and even later, as I taught on the adjunct faculty at the college on the base, I developed significant friendships with military personnel. As long as I can remember, I have had a deep sense of gratitude for veterans and profound sense of gratitude for all of our military personnel.

I think anyone who visits Pearl Harbor is overwhelmed with emotion. As I watched tourists and veterans alike walk around the monument reading the list of names with reverent silence and then gaze in the water at the rusted vessel, I thought about the families who never saw their young men and women return home.

Mostly due to a missions partnership we had developed through our church, I made subsequent visits to Hawaii in 1996, 1998, 1999, and 2000. My most memorable visit occurred in 1999. That year I had the privilege of taking my friend, Mack Jones of Corbin, Kentucky, on his first trip to Hawaii. Mack’s brother, Edward, died January 5, 1944 in the aftermath of the attacks on Pearl Harbor and is buried at the National Cemetery of the Pacific, also known as “Punchbowl.”

On a prior trip, a group of us, including Mack’s wife, Wylene, had visited Punchbowl, located the headstone for Edward W. Jones, taken a few photos, and then did a pencil tracing of the gravemarker to take home to Mack.

The next year, we were privileged to return, and this time Mack went with us. First we traveled up the hill to Punchbowl and visited Edward’s grave. Then we traveled to Pearl Harbor to visit the memorial. As a group of us stood alongside our friend, whose brother never returned home to Kentucky, we were even more aware of the sobering reality of war, and even more appreciative of the sacrifices of those paid the price of our freedom with their own blood.

Since I have moved to Pensacola, I have conducted over 125 services at Barrancas National Cemetery located at the Naval Air Station here. As a minister, I am honored to share words in memoriam for veterans of all ages.

And today, as I think about that memorable visit to Pearl Harbor and Punchbowl, and my many other visits to Barrancas, Eisenhower, and Arlington National Cemeteries, I am also praying that the Christmas “peace on earth and goodwill to all humankind” will become our global reality.

(Barry Howard serves as the senior minister at the First Baptist Church in Pensacola, Florida.)
reposted from December 2012

As a child growing up in the rural church, I remember singing the old hymn “Count Your Blessings,” written by Johnson Oatman Jr. in 1897. The words of the song urged us to “Count your blessings, name them one by one; And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.”

At the Mt. View Baptist Church where I was raised, we sang that song all throughout the year, and not just at Thanksgiving.  Inadvertently, this taught me that giving thanks is an ongoing daily discipline, not limited to a holiday season.  In fact, I Thessalonians 5:18 encourages us to “Give thanks in all circumstances.” Thanksgiving is a time of the year set aside for us to re-charge our gratitude by literally counting our blessings, a time to take an inventory of our resources, relationships, and opportunities.

I have discovered that thankfulness is not necessarily a default disposition, but a perspective on life that must be cultivated. In my college days, Grady Nutt encouraged us to develop “an attitude of gratitude.” William Faulkner describes such gratitude as “a quality similar to electricity: it must be produced and discharged and used up in order to exist at all.”  So this week, in a deeper sort of way, as a spiritual exercise, I will count and name my blessings.

The practice of counting our blessings has many benefits.  First, counting our blessings enables us to treasure our blessings. Sometimes we take blessings for granted and we overlook them.  Taking a personal inventory of your blessings brings your blessings into your conscious awareness, sort of like discovering a forgotten garment hidden in the closet, and returning it to the active rotation of your wardrobe.

Second, counting our blessings reminds us to use our blessings wisely.  Our blessings are our real earthly treasures, and we are called to be good stewards or managers of these assets, carefully investing them in ways that help us to fulfill our God-given mission.

Third, counting our blessings encourages us to share our blessings generously.  Most blessings were not intended to flow into our lives, but to flow through our lives into the lives of others. We are not human reservoirs created to preserve our blessings; we are designed to be human conduits, channels through which God’s blessings flow into the lives of others, especially those in need.

Thanksgiving is time to take a count of your blessings, and then let that inventory inspire you toward sensible stewardship, cheerful generosity, and faithful living.

May our feasts and our festivities remind us of our blessings and encourage us to live our days serving, sharing, and growing.  Let the counting begin!

(Barry Howard serves as Senior Pastor at the First Baptist Church of Pensacola, Florida.)

by Barry Howard

As the holiday season approaches, my inbox and our mailbox seems to fill quickly with Christmas greetings and with requests for money.  We love getting Christmas cards and letters. After reading them, my wife displays them around the living room with other decorations to remind us of the friendships we share around our community and around the globe.

Request letters are different, because with each request, we have a choice to make. Do we discard or delete those letters as junk mail, or do we consider the request and decide whether that particular organization is going to make the cut in this year’s holiday giving?  I believe it is possible to make both wise and generous decisions about charitable holiday giving.

Most non-profit organizations struggle for funding, even in good years.  In this season of gradual economic recovery, non-profits are in a heated competition for charitable dollars.  Therefore, this year you might want to be prepared for more numerous appeals vying for your holiday or end-of-year giving.

Many businesses and foundations have pre-determined guidelines for determining the charitable causes to which they will make contributions.  At our house, we employ the following guidelines to help us filter through the requests and determine which charities, missions, and ministries will go on our Christmas list;

1. Our first gift goes to the mission offering of our church.  Throughout the year, our tithe (the first 10% of our income) goes to support the ministries of our church.  Primarily, this is an act of obedience in response to what we believe the Bible teaches. Through the years, however, we have observed that the cumulative projects of a local church make a significant impact on improving individual lives.  So at Christmas we give an additional gift to the missions offering to support the work of missionaries around the globe.

2. We tend to give to organizations that are faith-based and focused on assisting the “least of these,” those who are disconnected, disadvantaged, or disenfranchised.

3. We aim to give to organizations that have low overhead and administrative costs.  We don’t want to give to an organization that exists to sustain itself. We want to give to organizations that provide a monumental service to people in need or that serve as conduits to get funds and resources to people in need.

4. We give to organizations that have demonstrated accountability, those who have a reputable board of advisers and a reporting mechanism to let us know where previous gifts have been used.

5. We determine not to do “guilt giving” or to respond to “arm-twisting requests.” We are motivated more by the missional pulse of a group or project than by the emotional plea of the one making the request.

6. We do not give directly to persons on the street, at intersections, or interstate ramps.  Our experience is that people are most effectively helped through missional organizations and relationships.  (We do offer to help get persons on the street to our mission center for assistance, or we offer to buy them a meal, but we do not give money, simply because of the high rate of manipulation and addiction among regular panhandlers.)

7. We recognize that some good organizations will be left out of our giving plan. There are thousands of organizations, ministries, and causes that are trustworthy, accountable, and effective, but we cannot support all of them.  There are hundreds we would like to support, but our resources are limited.  So we choose a few of those organizations or projects that fit our criteria and we give to them cheerfully.

8. We give ourselves a matching challenge that helps us to give generously and according to how we have been blessed.  We try to give an amount equal to the total of what we spend on gifts for family and friends. For example, if we spend $1200 on gifts, we will also give a matching $1200 to missions or charitable causes. Other friends of ours gift an amount equal to their season tickets for college football or an amount equivalent to their annual dues at the country club.

9. We have transitioned to electronic giving, as long as the organization provides or links to a secure web site. E-giving transfers our gift to the organization more quickly and it gives us an immediate receipt of the contribution.

10. We re-evaluate who we are giving to each year and do not automatically give this year to the same groups as last year.

As we grow and learn better stewardship practices, we realize that we are not liable for supporting every worthy cause.  However, we are accountable to God for the resources placed within our care.  We have the privilege, especially during the holidays, of generously discerning from among many worthwhile causes those projects and organizations we will support.  Then we hope and pray that other organizations receive contributions from discerning donors as well.

As you plot and plan your holiday giving, don’t be overwhelmed with guilt for not supporting every single cause. Be generous and wise.  Give to those causes that have a proven track record of ministering to spiritual, physical, and emotional needs.

(Barry Howard serves as senior minister of the First Baptist Church of Pensacola.)

by Barry Howard

How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
² How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Psalm 13:1-2 NIV

Where is God when bad things happen?  Across the ages, this question has perplexed and frustrated those afflicted with suffering, grief, and pain.  Theologians and philosophers have wrestled with scriptural texts and rational thought striving to make sense of the enigma. Pastors and counselors continually search for explanations that provide encouragement and hope for those scarred by raw human experience.

Chaos comes in a variety of shapes and sizes. Changing weather patterns generate dangerous storms that often wreak havoc on population centers by taking lives and destroying property.  Is this an act of nature or an act of God?  A fault line in the earth shifts and suddenly the earth trembles, causing structures to collapse and lives to be lost. Where is God in calamity?  Cells in the body begin rapidly and abnormally growing and multiplying and gradually a mass or tumor appears. Is this some sort of divine test of one’s faith and spirituality?  A drunk driver gets behind the wheel and later strikes a teenager on her way home from a ballgame. The driver survives but the teenager does not. Why doesn’t God intervene to keep such an atrocity from occurring? Where is God when bad things happen?

In one sense, the question is too big to have a simple singular answer.   Religious clichés and slogans give momentary comfort to a novice, but to the person who is hurting, such trite answers seem hollow, shallow, and often insulting. In another sense, to attempt to respond to such a challenging question can seem arrogant or presumptuous.

For me, I can only share how I am processing the question in hopes that my small insight might provide a little light for those dealing with the question from a dark place.  So, here we go…

First, life is not fair.  I wish someone had taught me this hardcore truth when I was much younger.   My early faith was predicated on some naïve assumptions:  God is good. Life is fair. If I go to church, read my Bible, say my prayers, and try to keep the commandments, I will prosper and God will protect me.  If I don’t, bad things will happen.

At this point in my life I would be inclined to say something like this: God really is good. But God never promised that life is fair. Life is tough. Go to church, read your Bible, say your prayers, and follow the ways of Jesus, because you are going to need all of the strength and courage that spiritual faith and spiritual community can offer. You are not exempt from pain, from suffering, or from a tragedy.

Second, I understand that no one is exempt from pain or suffering.  Suffering is no respecter of persons. Disease, depression, accidents, tragedies and death do not care whether I am an atheist, agnostic, or devout believer. In a world broken and scarred by human sin, chaos persists. Accidents happen, disease invades, storms blow, and wars erupt.  When a tornado touches down, it is presumptuous to think that the storm will bypass my house because I have been more spiritual than my neighbor. Faith does not exempt us from the bad stuff. Faith equips us for the journey.

Third, God is present with me at all times. If life is not fair and I am not exempt from the pain and suffering caused by the chaos, where is God when bad things happen?  I believe that God is present with me, not as the perpetrator of the chaos, but as my redeemer in the chaos. God does not necessarily rescue me from the chaos, but God is present helping me navigate the chaos.

Fourth, there is no formula or spiritual incantation to predict or mandate that God will directly intervene the way I prefer. In the Bible there are times that God seems to directly intervene in the chaos, and other times God does not. Why did Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead, but leave others in the grave?  Why did Jesus heal a select few, while others in his presence remained afflicted?  Was it because of their quantity of faith, or because Jesus deemed them to be less offensive sinners?

What if Jesus chose a select few to demonstrate that disease does not have the final word and will be eliminated in the eternal realm?  What if Jesus raised Lazarus as “exhibit A” in the power of resurrection, or precursor to his own unfolding story?  Interestingly, every person that Jesus healed got sick again and died.  How do we know this? They are not still around, are they?  And Lazarus is the only person in the Bible who had to endure death twice.  That’s right. Lazarus died again.

I believe in prayer and I believe that the healing process is enhanced by a multitude of contributing factors including hope, faith, medicine, exercise, diet, and a positive attitude.  But there are no guarantees, only a challenge to walk by faith with courage and perseverance.  A false premise of a “name it, claim it” approach to religion is that it makes a promise based on isolated scriptures taken out of context, mostly disregarding the suffering of people of faith throughout the Bible.  Job, despite his remarkable faith, was not exempt from compounded tragedy. There is no evidence that Moses was healed from his speech impediment. Samson did not have his eyesight restored. And Paul was not delivered from his “thorn in the flesh.”

Finally, the Bible suggests that God is present and proactive in all of our circumstances. Although God is not the perpetrator who initiates our suffering, Romans 8:28 reminds us that God “works in all things to bring about good for those who love him and are called according to his purpose.”

In what way is God present?  First, I believe the presence and personality of God, referred to in the Bible as the Holy Spirit, resides within me, not because I merited a holy status, but as one of many gifts of God.  The Spirit convicts, comforts and coaches me according to the conscience and character of Jesus.  It is sort of like having a spiritual mentor living inside of me. Second, I believe that God is present in the corporate Body of Christ.  When Jesus departed the earth, he said to his followers, you are now my body.

Last week, we observed the Lord’s Supper in our church. We partook of the bread and cup as a vivid reminder of the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus.  Among other things, we believe that these elements remind us that, as believers, we are now the body of Christ in the world. We are his hands, his feet, his voice, and his passion.   Therefore, God is not only at work to bring about good, but we are the human conduit through which God is at work to share love, comfort, healing, and encouragement.  And if we are distracted by other things, we have essentially tied the hands and feet of God.  But if we are on task, ministry occurs, especially in the face of chaos.

As I wrestle with the question, “Where is God when bad things happen?,” I readily admit that “now I see through a glass darkly,” but to affirm that God is present in my suffering, grief, or pain, even when I cannot fully explain the chaos, brings a little light to the dark places in my life.  And this little bit of light causes me to long for more.

(Barry Howard serves as senior minister at the First Baptist Church of Pensacola, Florida.)

O God of grace and eternal justice,
On this anniversary of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001
We remember that horrific day as a day we wish we could forget.

O God we confess our ongoing need of your transformative and emerging grace
For we are all too mindful that this date still haunts us
With memories that provoke our anger
With emotions that are tinged with grief
With thoughts that trend toward vengeance.

As we attempt to apply your words to life,
And to live by faith as we hold to your promise of a better future
We confess that our anger and grief from that fretful day are not nearly resolved.
And that residual impulses of retaliation and hate incubate deep within.

And yet we acknowledge that our lingering hurt does not compare to the pain
of those who were touched more directly
through the unexpected and unfair loss
of family members, friends, and co-workers.

We tremble at the memory of atrocious images of death and destruction,
We worry over the ongoing armed conflict that seems to be unending,
We grieve over the deaths of the sons and daughters of our nation,
As well as the subsequent casualties among our allies and our adversaries.
And we long for a civilized and lasting resolution
So that our sons and daughters may live in peace
And that those who have longed for liberation from tyranny
Might govern and be governed with dignity and integrity.

Rather than being consumed by our grief,
And controlled by our fears
And constrained by our anxieties,
Let us set our minds to addressing the injustices that precipitate hostility,
Let us direct our souls to living out our moral conviction,
Let us turn our hearts to loving the poor,
and the disadvantaged,
and the disenfranchised.
And let us determine to fight terror,
Not with our own terroristic threats,
But with a responsible and courageous exercise of freedom,
And with a proactive and authentic faith.

And though it swims against the tide of our carnal instincts,
You continue to teach us to love our enemies,
so that we do not become like them.

Today we are grateful for first responders:
For emergency medical professionals, for law enforcement officers, for fire fighters, volunteers, and all who serve to save, protect, and preserve life.

Today, especially today, we pray for the leaders of our nation and our world
For the leaders of our state and our community
To act and react with wisdom and discernment,
And to maintain a disposition that will defuse conflict
And advance the cause of peace.
And we pray for the leaders of our churches and synagogues
And for people of diverse faiths
To act and react with transformative grace and enduring hope,
And to maintain a disposition that will dispel propaganda
And advance the cause of truth and compassion.

We offer our prayer with abiding faith and emerging hope in the One who came to bring peace on earth and goodwill to all humankind. Amen

The hospital waiting room on the 4th floor at Northeast Alabama Regional Medical Center in Anniston was empty and quiet. The only sounds were the dinging of the elevator in the distance and the clanging of the food cart as meal trays were being collected from the patients’ rooms down a nearby hallway.

While visiting with my father-in-law in room 416, I had taken a break and parked myself in a chair in the corner of the waiting room to check a few emails and respond to a few voicemails. That is when I heard it. The music started. I recognized the tune as Brahm’s Lullaby. I also knew what it meant. A baby had just been born on the 3rd floor in the Labor and Delivery Unit.

As I sat wondering whether the baby was a boy or a girl, and imagining the excitement of parents and grandparents, I heard the elevator ding even as the lullaby continued to play. But rather than a food cart returning to continue the collection ritual, I saw a man in a dark suit pushing an empty stretcher covered with a velvet blanket. His identification badge indicated that he was not from the hospital but from Chapel Hill Funeral Home and he was there for a different kind of collection ritual. As he passed the waiting room and entered the Oncology Unit, the lullaby faded. And in my mind, a requiem began to play.

Now I wondered whether the deceased was male or female, young or old. Was the patient a person of faith? Did the family have a support group? Did the person have a full and meaningful life? Or did this dreaded disease interrupt the life of one far too young?

Although I deal with a mix of emotions every day in my work as a pastor, I don’t recall such an abrupt and emphatic reminder that life exists in the juxtaposition between birth and death. A life had begun and a life had ended on the same day in the same place at almost the same time.

Coincidentally, earlier that morning, I had just completed outlining a sermon series about “Exploring the Meaning of Life” from the book of Ecclesiastes. In chapter 3 of this wisdom book we find the time poem, which includes the line stating that there is “a time to be born and a time to die.”

As I sat waiting for a biopsy to be performed on my wife’s dad I found myself reflecting on the span of one’s existence. Life is lived in this undetermined and unpredictable season between the lullaby and the requiem.

Every day is a gift, with no promise of tomorrow. The challenge is for us to discover meaning and purpose early on, and to spend our lives investing ourselves in consequential and influential acts of service rather than trivial pursuits. We have the opportunity to grow in faith, to build relationships, to explore the beauty of creation, to engage in a meaningful work, and to contribute to the well-being of others along the way.

When I left the waiting room to return to room 416, I noticed the stretcher, no longer vacant, departing room 422. The family had already gone. I watched respectfully as the man in the dark suit guided the gurney toward the elevator. And as he entered, two things occurred to me: 1) Someday that will be my body under the blanket, but not just yet, and 2) Obstetrics and Oncology are often only one elevator stop apart.

I suppose a person doesn’t have a lot of say so regarding when the lullaby announces the beginning of life’s journey and the requiem affirms the completion. But you and I do determine the song we will sing between the lullaby and the requiem. Sing it well!

(Barry Howard serves as Senior Minister at the First Baptist Church in Pensacola, Florida.)

God of all grace and mercy, as we celebrate our nation’s Independence Day, we are grateful for our heritage and concerned for our future.

We are thankful, Lord. We are grateful for the privilege of living in “the land of the free and the home of the brave.” We are thankful for those who came before us paving the way for unrivaled liberties that allow us to freely make choices about our work, our worship, our ideology, and lifestyle. We are indebted to past and present veterans who risked life and limb in the pursuit and protection of these freedoms.

From the “mountains to the prairies” we are inspired by some of the most spectacular and diverse landscapes on our planet. From “sea to shining sea” we are privileged to draw from a treasure trove of natural resources. We have access to comfortable housing, above average healthcare, an abundant wardrobe, a diverse menu of our favorite foods, and high tech communication and entertainment. We are certainly blessed beyond our deserving.

During this season of celebration we are grateful, yet concerned….concerned about our nation, concerned about our world, and concerned about the future.

From our many different perspectives and ideologies we are concerned about things like the threats of terrorism, the brutalities of war, the abuse of political power, the divisiveness of harsh and misleading political rhetoric, a lack of civil discourse, a growing sense of moral anarchy, and the possibility of an approaching storm or natural disaster. These concerns lead to heightened anxiety about the stability of our economy, the tenure of our employment, and the cost of our insurance.

And we confess that these anxieties often divert us from our mission to “minister to the least of these,” and to “love mercy, act justly, and walk humbly” with you.

These concerns and anxieties also remind us of our need to confess our sins, personally and corporately. We confess that we have too often taken our freedom for granted and we have too frequently been negligent in living up to the responsibilities of our citizenship. We confess that at times we are too quick to judge and even quicker to criticize. We confess that we are slow to intercede for our neighbors and our leaders, and even slower to trust in your leadership.

We confess that our self-interests have too often taken priority over the best interest you have in mind for our nation and for our world. We confess that we have been irresponsible in our stewardship of “our space and our stuff,” often consuming and storing compulsively without conscious regard for sharing. We confess that we have too often trusted in our own initiatives and ingenuity more than we have trusted in you.

You tell us in time-tested scripture that, “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” (II Chronicles 7:14)

As we approach this Independence Day, we ask you to forgive our sin and to heal our land. On this day, we pray for the leaders of our nation, our state, and our community that they will lead with wisdom and courage.

We pray for the men and women who serve in our military that they will fulfill their mission effectively and return home safely and soon.

We pray for our enemies that their swords will also be “turned into plowshares,” even as we long for that day when the “lion will lie down alongside the lamb.”

We pray for the churches, cathedrals, and temples of our community and our world that they will be lighthouses of grace and peace, ever pressing toward the mark of our high calling.

Because you are the freedom-loving God, lead us to exercise our freedom responsibly and to pursue “liberty and justice for all” people around the globe.

We pray in the strong name of Jesus who came to make us free, indeed. Amen.

(Barry Howard serves as senior minister of the First Baptist Church of Pensacola, Florida.)