Birthday Boy

Today we will make shrimp paprika on request. We have a German chocolate cake already prepared. All because of something that occurred sixteen years ago today.

On the morning of December 15, 1997, I was putting my Ethics and Worldviews exams in my briefcase for the drive up to Westminster Christian Academy in Opelousas, Louisiana. Christy's was going to be induced the next day, so I thought my firstborn would be sharing a birthday with Ludwig van Beethoven. It was then that Christy called out for me in our smallish Lafayette apartment on Pont des Mouton Road.

Find someone else to take the exams to school and proctor them, was her message. From her feel of what was going on, our firstborn was going to crash the party a day early.

Thus followed a flurry of activity: getting the music teacher (who lived nearby) to transport my exams to school, confirming backup so other teachers could proctor the exams, getting Christy into the car, and navigating our way down to Lafayette General Medical Center. We were there by 8 a.m. On the way, I stopped at a red light, stared at the steering wheel, and said to no one in particular, "Oh my gosh, I'm going to be a father by the end of the day."

The fact that I was getting a son was not what overwhelmed me. It was the fact that my son was getting me as a father.

But I digress. The day plugged along, with Christy getting the battery of getting her water bag punctured, a pitocin IV drip, an epidural in the early afternoon, and non-stop ice chips. The way she fought through the pain was staggeringly incredible.

My parents drove down from Mississippi that day, arriving early afternoon to be there in plenty of time for the arrival of their first grandchild. It seemed to take forever for all the stars of delivery to align, but after dinnertime, Dr. Bourque (yes, I chose my wife's OB/GYN on the basis that his last name matched that of former NHL All-Star Raymond Bourque) said we were ready.

I'll spare you the details, but the short story is we had to switch to an emergency C-section. They gave Christy some more drugs for the pain and got to work. At 10:18 pm, Dr. Bourque lifted a six-pound, eleven-ounce, twenty-and-one-quarter inch floppy bundle from my wife's interior. Joshua Cameron Davis, meet the world.

It was then we learned (as Soren Kierkegaard wisely said, life is lived forward but understood backward) we were not at a finish line but a starting line. Joshua opened his mouth to cry and gave all the effort he could, but no sound came out. His limbs dangled like bratwursts from paper clips as his rib cage expanded and contracted in a furious quest for oxygen. Eventually, he stabilized, but it was clear there was something amiss.

Over the coming months and years, we spent a lot of time and energy going down various medical paths. Muscle biopsies revealed Joshua was afflicted with X-linked myotubular myopathy, and while we have often questioned why this was part of the big divine picture, we have also connected with other families whose boys are afflicted as well, searching for a common Holy Grail, a cure that is coming within reach.

More than anything, we received a son who has fought through more physical issues than I can imagine. One who nearly died six years ago after spinal fusion surgery but bounced back, despite doctors who felt we should "accept the inevitable". One who bravely made the call to be re-trached nearly five years ago so he could breathe and rehab better. He is the inspiration for the hero in my Cameron Ballack mystery series. An intense video game player, an inquisitive reader, and a never-ending dreamer (he still maintains he will switch citizenship and try out for Germany's national soccer team when he is cured and is able to walk again). 

Yes, a difficult life. But it's been sixteen years of wonderful all the same. Happy birthday to Joshua, our son.

Advent: Ending In Order To Begin

I find it fascinating that for something new to come into being, sometimes a former thing has to pass away. There are times when this is sad, sometimes there's an air of necessity about it.

There's precedent for this in the Bible. When Christians celebrate Advent, they de facto profess that the era of the Old Testament--with all its historical vigor and moral fluctuation--had to come to an end to usher in the birth of Jesus Christ. Galatians does say, "In the fullness of time, God sent his son, born of a woman…" (And on the subject of Christ, even when Jesus left earth, it turned out to be a boon for the growth of the church despite much persecution.)

And then there are events that happen around Christmas that you hope will turn out for the best, because all you can see for now is the sadness.

This week, I received news from some friends in Palm Beach County, Florida. It was there that I served for two wonderful years (2006-2008) as the campus pastor [i.e., chaplain] at Wellington Christian School. This opportunity came at a point in my life when I had been dismissed as pastor of a North Carolina church for declining numbers during my time there. It was the first time in my life when I had worked as faithfully and well as I could, but the  perceived level of success was lacking [Interestingly enough, the person who engineered and spearheaded my dismissal is now on trial for 208 counts of inappropriate sexual contact with minors]. I was burned out and questioning myself, but this opportunity in Florida turned out to be quite the tonic. I was able to pastor in an educational setting, grow relationships with students and speak into their lives, and craft vision and leadership for the school's chapel program and spiritual life.

And it was a few days ago that some friends there let me know that the high school at Wellington Christian was--in almost all likelihood--closing at the end of the 2013-14 school year. Declining enrollment is one factor married to lack of funds. How they got to this point is not my point of order here. There is still much to be considered about the K-8 school, which will be discussed over this weekend. What I do feel the need to say is that it hurts to see this happen. I have many close friends among the faculty and staff at WCS. For almost all of them, the closure would drastically affect their income. For all of them, this is a severe blow because--whatever their pay is--this is a calling. Teaching high school kids is their oxygen and really cranks their tractor every day. I have served on the gifted faculties of four Christian schools; I would put the high school teachers at WCS up against any institution when you consider ability, passion, commitment, and love for kids.

So what if what is probable becomes a reality? I don't want that to happen, and I pray there is some sort of miraculous turnaround. But both experience and hope teach me that all is not lost. A lot of what education happens to be is not polishing the final diamond, but unearthing the rough jewel and beginning the process of tending to it, shaping it, and making the initial chisels over what will be a long journey of beauty.

If Wellington Christian's high school closes--in fact, whatever happens regarding any school, or church, or agency that comes to an unintended end--its impact and efforts will not have been in vain. I mentioned on Facebook a couple days back that truth taught is never done in vain. I honestly believe that.

Even Christ had to die in order to rise again, one could argue.

Ending is not necessarily evidence of failure; it can begin a new era of blessing in ways we might not initially foresee.

No matter what, WCS has been a success in the way it needs to be.

And the school will always be in my heart.

Advent: Words From a Friend

This evening I saw that a friend, my former student Rebecca (Koenig) Rich had posted some more thoughts on her own blog. I really enjoy it when Rebecca posts (in fact, I'd love it if she did so more often, but I won't force it), and she made today's words really resonate with me. 

Rebecca's been doing this for some time. She was one of my most outstanding students when I taught at Westminster Christian Academy in Louisiana. She was/is diligent and would go to be nth degree to make sure she'd studied everything she needed to for a test. She also had good instincts about right and wrong, and sometimes things just dropped in her lap…once she had a dream the night before a final exam about what the extra credit question would be, and wouldn't you know it, she was dead on correct!

Yesterday, Rebecca shared on her blog about the subject of lament, sadness, and the occasional crushing wail that can hit out of nowhere. What she said was so instructive: "Another peculiar thing about lament is that it opens you up to gratitude. It's as if allowing yourself to see and share the darkness in your heart is the only way to notice all the light shining through the crevices. Yes, some things are very, very bad. But other things are good. Admitting that certain things are broken in ways they should not be makes me aware of other things that are good in ways they should not be. It opens me up to see grace."

The last time I read something that put that subject that well, it was St. Augustine: If there is a God, how is there so much bad in the world? If there is no God, how is there so much good in the world?"

Rebecca then gave a litany of many tangible items for which she is grateful: her husband Tom (whom I am long overdue to finally meet), her dogs, her friends, where they live, and some other matters. It's a profoundly wondrous list.

And then she comes to the last thing, and my heart sang.

"…thankful that I am not afraid of Jesus anymore. I don't know when it happened, but I finally stopped feeling like he was disappointed in me and started to believe that he is good and caring and gentle. This is kind of huge, because our picture of God affects everything. And my picture of him these days is pretty great."

Trust me. That's the quote of the year.

It's the Rubicon we all need to cross to truly understand and believe that grace is effective and good and lasting. 

It is a major thread of the fabric of the Advent tapestry.

I couldn't be more thrilled that my friend Rebecca has shared it with us.

Advent: Aligned With the Humble

          And Mary said: “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me—holy is his name. His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation. He has performed mighty deeds with his arm; he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.”  (Luke 1:46-53)

            After receiving the news that she will give birth to the Savior of the world (How would you like to get that message to start off your day?), Mary launches into a prayer of praise to God. She speaks about the “great things” that God has done…and then she finally says these words: “He has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.” Why these words? Why is this part of God’s message through Mary?

            Perhaps because this would be part of Jesus’ mission: He would align himself with the people on the margins, those who are on the edges of society. The oppressed. The downtrodden. Those who recognize their desperate situations and their need of grace. As for the proud and arrogant, or the ones who revel in their power and are seemingly secure in their own ability? They’re headed for a hard swan dive downward!

            We see evidence of God siding with the humble and downtrodden throughout history, and it is especially noteworthy when it occurs around Christmastime. During the late 1980s, a Romanian pastor named Laszlo Tokes  (pronounced TOKE-ess) began speaking out against the nation’s Communist ruler Nicolae Ceausescu (pronounced chow-CHESS-koo). Tokes was imprisoned and tortured, and the people of Romania became outraged over this injustice. During Advent of 1989, Tokes had been released and was back home, preparing for his Christmas sermon. Locking himself in his house, Tokes read through the Christmas stories of Matthew and Luke. On Christmas Eve, Tokes ascended the pulpit in his church and, unlike most pastors who would preach that day, he preached on the story of King Herod’s slaughter of the boys of Bethlehem. It was the one passage that spoke most directly to his congregation. They understood oppression, fear, violence, and life as the desperate underdog. Tokes told them that with Jesus on the scene, they had One who was aligned with them.

            The next day, Christmas, news broke out all over Romania that Ceausescu had been arrested. For the first time in forty years, Romania celebrated Christmas as a public holiday. Church bells pealed across the nation about as loudly as the joy erupting from people who tasted freedom for the first time in years. A new King Herod, Ceausescu, who had wiped out thousands of his own people, had fallen by the hand of God. Tokes said, “All the events of the Christmas story now had a new, brilliant dimension for us, [one] rooted in the reality of our lives…a time when the providence of God and the foolishness of human wickedness seemed as easy to comprehend as the sun and her moon over the timeless Transylvanian hills.”[1]

            If you are overwhelmed by life, by others, or if you find yourself barely hanging on to the margins, then the good news of Christmas is that you have an Advocate who’s arrived: Jesus. And if you have been too secure in your own ability or pride, then Christmas means Someone has arrived who can and will shake up your world. So whether you require defending or challenge, Jesus has arrived and he loves you too much to leave you alone.

---

[1] Laszlo Tokes, The Fall of Tyrants (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 1990), 186.

Moving the Goalposts of Life

“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light of revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory for your people Israel.” (Luke 2:29-32)

            The message above was originally spoken by the righteous and elderly man Simeon in the temple in Jerusalem. His desire was to see Jesus himself, for he had been told that death would not come until he had seen the Messiah. Finally he does so, and his reaction is that now he can depart in peace. Death is not something to be dreaded, but rather it is an event that leads to the joy and hope believers can enjoy.

            One side-effect of Jesus’ arrival--and a theme of the Advent season, as it is at Easter--is this certainty that the goalposts of the game of life have moved. Death is not something to be feared. Now we have a Messiah who will definitively and finally deal with sin, rebellion, guilt, and death with his sacrifice. Because Jesus makes this way available to us, we don’t need to fear death. It is not an end point; it is the gate to further, more abundant life forever with God.

            One of the hallmarks of Christmastime is the resurgence of Christmas plays at churches and schools. Some time ago, Franklin Classical School, located outside of Nashville, Tennessee, held a Christmas play involving much of the upper school. One student in particular greatly enjoyed his role in the play, that of a neighborly farmer who loved Christmas and loved to talk. That student was a young man named Andy Tant. A sixteen-year old young man with a vibrant faith, Andy worked hard in all areas of school, but he showed a special talent for acting. And toward the end of the performance, his final line resonated throughout the auditorium: “I believe this is going to be the best Christmas ever!”

            It was the next day—December 8, 1996…exactly seventeen years ago today—that Andy told his mother he was taking the car and heading off to church and would see her there later. On the way, Andy’s medication that he had taken earlier made him extremely drowsy, and he fell asleep at the wheel as he approached church. He was hit broadside by another car, and even the air bag deployment could not prevent massive internal injuries. Word came to the church, and Andy’s father Mike, about the wreck. Andy was taken to Vanderbilt Hospital, where his unconscious body held on for several hours while his father and several church leaders prayed nearby. Finally, as Mike closed out a prayer and held Andy’s hand, the young actor quietly exhaled his last breath, and God took him home.

            I still remember late that night when my best friend, Phil Covington, who was Andy's brother-in-law, called me with the news of Andy's death. Andy was someone I had befriended through my relationship with Phil, his wife Jennifer, and the entire Tant family, so this was a moment of deep, abject sadness for me.

            As sad as the Tant family felt and still feel over losing their son and brother, they continue to take great comfort in the reality that because Jesus had come to earth, lived, died, and rose again, he had transformed what life was about. They could take hope in the fact that Andy’s death—while sooner than they expected—was not the end of his life, but the gate to eternal enjoyment. (I'd like to think that when our Jordan left us, the first person he met in heaven was Andy.)

            Andy had been right: It would be the best Christmas ever. It would be so because Jesus’ invasion into our world would move the goalposts of life. It would be so because Jesus’ death meant our death would not have the final say. It was Andy’s best Christmas ever, and it continues to be so, for he celebrates it every day now. 

There Is No Divide

Back in August, at back-to-school-night, a parent struck up a conversation with me regarding my recently released novel, Litany of Secrets. He mentioned that he enjoyed my book--sincerely, I should add…I don't think he was angling for a better grade for his daughter in my Ethics class. There was one other thing he said that I found interesting; it was about my lead character, the wheelchair-bound, religiously-skeptical, swaggerishously agnostic detective Cameron Ballack.

Jim really liked where I took Ballack both in his actions within situations and reactions to various scenarios, and as the story grabbed him more and more within the seminary environment of St. Basil's, he began to root for Ballack to will himself to believe. But then as the story hurtled toward its conclusion, Jim said he had a change of heart. "It's like I was rooting for this to be a Christian story and for Ballack to embrace the Christian faith as like a victorious conclusion. But the further I went, the more I thought, 'No, I don't want that anymore. For him to embrace faith, in a way, would limit or ruin his character.' I believed that this was a good story and a great character on its own, and it didn't have to be a 'Christian' book."

That's a great compliment. I had no desire to make this series one that had a "Christian" label. I hold to the C.S. Lewis mantra that what the world need is not more Christian book, but more excellent literature written by Christians. Themes of faith, sacrifice, courage, love, redemption, human frailty and brokenness, and hope come up in my books, but I am not writing to lay out a theology of salvation or to promote a particular denominational slant. That would take the starch out of the story.

In my mind, there is no divide between "secular" and "spiritual" literature. Written communication is a gift of humanity from God, and I follow I Timothy 4:4-5 on this one: "For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, for it is made holy by the word of God with prayer." If you need additional commentary on this, Jon Foreman (lead singer of Switchfoot) pontificated at length, asking Did Lewis or Tolkien mention Christ in their songs? What activities are more spiritual? , as well as other pointed queries. The short article is well worth your time.

It's where I stand, for better or worse. Excellent stories are what count, and truth that shines through this excellence will eventually point people to the Reality behind it all.

Reading Reviews: True Word for Tough Times

It's been some time since I did a full-fledged book review here at Sacred Chaos, but today it's time to revisit that wondrous exercise. I do so with a disclaimer, for it will be rather awkward. Today's post delves into a smallish tome written to encourage people on their spiritual journeys. More to the point, it is written to challenge and give fresh courage to people who qualify themselves as followers of Jesus, and it's especially helpful and applicable to Christian leaders.

That is not what makes this review rather surreal. Instead, that has to do with the fact that the author of this brief work, True Word for Tough Times, is Dale Ralph Davis. That's right. Today, the son reviews the words of the father.

A few points of order: I don't do starred reviews (1 to 5 stars) but rather interact with the text itself. I find this more helpful. Also, as I grew up under my dad's preaching I think I have a decent sense for his speaking style and how it translates to the written word. That's not to say this will be non-critical. Also, keep in mind that this book stands within the stream of Dad's past excellent commentaries (esp. his stuff on the Old Testament historical books) and other works (like if you want to know how to preach from the Old Testament). It is a different book but it still comes with Dad's desire to get the meaning accurate and the communication clear and fresh.

The book is actually a selection of five messages Dad preached three years ago at the Evangelical Movement of Wales Conference in Aberystwyth. Covering the broad swath of the prophet Jeremiah's ministry, the teaching is meant--in Dad's words--to "supply a healthy corrective to some of the flippant and flimsy optimism we meet in certain 'Christian' propaganda about the Christian life and ministry." In short, life as a follower of Jesus can have some dynamic success, but then there are stretches where one believes that swimming in goat drool would feel like an upgrade.

Dad's messages tackle various facets that float to the top in Jeremiah's teaching and experience. There is the sufficiency and strength from the Word of God (Message 1 on Jeremiah 1); our complaints and God's pointed assurances (Message 2 on Jeremiah 15:10-21; God's sovereignty, truth, and providence (Message 3 on Jeremiah 27-29); what happens when people resist God's word (Message 4 on Jeremiah 37-39); and faithfulness even when it doesn't seem to matter (Message 5 on Jeremiah 40-45). Readers who are hoping for a comprehensive treatment of the book of Jeremiah will be disappointed, but that will be due to forgetting what Dad's aim would be. He never intended to attempt such a comprehensive task in such limited gulps.

The messages follow Dad's usual modus operandi of quality exposition, with stories and illustrations (the story of Christian Watt on pages 57-58 are alone worth the price of the book) that amplify the teaching of the text, followed by seasons of application that are quality "take-aways" from the ancient-yet-relevant message of Scripture. I would say that even if there are those who may disagree with Dad's emphases have to admit he's done a lot of study of the original Hebrew text to deliver it to the reader. At first, the reading might seem slightly choppy, as one might expect for sermons that are being transposed to written material (a process more difficult than we might imagine). I'll confess that the way I smoothed this out was to imagine--as I read--this was not a book but rather listening to Dad preach this in the pulpit. I was surprised at how this got rid of a lot of literary wrinkles.

As to specifics, here are some of the "best of" moments:

Pages 12-13, on the relentless of God's message: "In times of superficial religion...of hardened indifference...of weak compromise...in days of national disaster, the Word of God kept on coming. It is relentless; it is unstoppable; it simply keeps on coming, no matter what the climate seems to be, no matter what the circumstances are."

Page 34, dealing with Jeremiah's complaint that God seems like a deceitful brook and how we can step over a line at times with God: "I think we need to understand in the psycho-slanted age in which we live...that you can step out of line in your complaining to God. In a previous age we may have been overly cautioned about this; in our day we may not be cautioned enough...[I]f you question people like that they might say, 'But this is how I really feel.' Sometimes when you really feel that way, the best response is to keep quiet. In other word, anguish must not dissolve reverence, especially when you realize that it is still this God alone who gives you the very breath that you use to express your despair...So bemoan his mysteries. You have that freedom. Bemoan his mysteries, but do not assault his majesty. Do not deny his character. Do not step over that line."

Page 54, on not going off on some wild interpretation of the Bible: "Be very careful that you stick closely to the claims of Scripture and do not go beyond them. Sometimes the whole state of an individual depends on how reliable you are in communicating the truth of the Scripture."

Pages 82 and 92 of Jeremiah's final years and overall 'success' in life: "There may be times when you have to make a hard decision and when you opt to make the non-attractive choice for Christ's sake and that of others...Sometimes that is the decision we need to make, sacrificing  personal advantage and comfort and perhaps preference. There is a pattern to ponder here." "What is the use of a ministry like that? Well, among other things, does it not tell us...that service to Christ may prove continually agonizing and apparently fruitless?...Jeremiah's experience indicates that you have some situations in which you can serve Christ and meet nothing but hardship, trouble, anguish and frustration. If nothing else, seeing this may help correct the ministry-success syndrome that is so frequently beamed at us."

I could go on, but to get the full force, you really need to read the book. It's a well-constructed blend of pointing out realistic trials of life combined with God's faithfulness during those times. Personally, as I read it, it helped me make peace with some of the past moments when I felt like my time in ministry hadn't amounted to much, if anything at all.

Perhaps there could have been a capsule overview of the book of Jeremiah in the introduction, with bullet points of time and date of writing, major themes, and so on, for laypersons less familiar with the wild and wooly world of the Old Testament prophets like Jeremiah. Yet that is a minor issue with what--whether he's my Dad or not--is a magnificently helpful piece of work. If you need encouragement in life, several challenging reminders for the road ahead, or simply want to fresh look at God, True Word for Tough Times is a highly preferable tonic.

Many thanks, Dad. And those thanks extend well beyond this book.