Two Mormons—former Massachusetts Gov. Mitt Romney and former Utah Gov. Jon Huntsman—are gearing up to run for president. While their religious affiliation does not officially disqualify them for the presidency, it may determine if they can earn the Republican nomination, much less win the election.

"No religious test …"

Article VI of the U.S. Constitution guarantees: "no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States." That's the law. But Americans tend to look at the whole candidate, and religion often is a key factor as voters decide whether to trust candidates with political office. In other words, pragmatism can trump principle.

Given Mormons' minority status, this may work against Huntsman and Romney. The issue came up when Romney ran for president in the 2008 election cycle. That was part of presidential political precedent.

Catholics came before

Faith was an issue when Al Smith became the first Catholic presidential candidate in 1928. Herbert Hoover trounced him, in large part due to opposition from Southern Baptists and Lutherans, who feared Smith's loyalty to the pope would usurp his fidelity to the Constitution.

Faith flared 32 years later, when John Kennedy became the first Catholic U.S. president. A pivotal point in that campaign occurred in Texas, when Kennedy met with a group of Protestant pastors in Houston and pledged to follow the dictates of his conscience and the mandates of the Constitution, not the proclamations of the pope. 

Religion, again

Now, the prospect of President Huntsman or President Romney is raising the issue again. Despite its rapid growth, the Mormon church still carries a sectarian stigma for many Americans. And fairness, or even accuracy, won't be an issue when voters walk into polling booths. The question will be whether or not Americans believe either of these candidates is the best person to lead the nation—and whether religious belief factors into their equation.

Many conservative Christian voters are likely to consider Huntsman's and Romney's faith, predicted Richard Land, executive director of the Southern Baptist Christian Life Commission. Land told CNN: "If Southern Baptists have a choice between an evangelical candidate, a Catholic and a Mormon, … they'll vote for the evanglical. If there's no such evangelical (in the race), they'll vote for the Catholic. But if there's no other candidate who's likely to beat (President Barack) Obama, they'll vote for the Mormon."

According to the polls …

Land may or may not be correct, but his prediction certainly does not rule out the Republican nomination of Romney, the current frontrunner. A recent Washington Post poll indicates Romney is the only candidate who would beat Obama if the election were held now.

At the very least, faith will play a potent roll in presidential campaign politics during the coming 17 months. What do you think? Should voters select preferences based on affinity with their faith or based on other qualifications for the job?

You might just cringe at the thought. Most Christians have heard sermons that sounded as if the preacher were trying to perform—maybe really bad regional theater. But, on the other hand, we've also heard sermons when we wished the preacher at least had an inkling of a performer's delivery.

Clayton Schmit, professor of preaching at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena, Calif., makes an eloquent case for preaching as performance art on the Christianity Today website.

The tagline to the article's title reveals Schmit's thesis: "The way it's delivered is part of the message."

Effective preaching incarnates God's word into words—and gestures, inflection, volume and silence—when it is well-delivered, Schmit explains. And rather than activity intended to draw attention to the speaker, an effective preacher-performer focuses attention on Jesus.

Submission—to Scripture and to "the practice required to bring these words to life"—and humility are the keys to powerful preaching performance, he insists.

This is a helpful, thought-provoking article, not only for preachers, but for worshippers who listen to them.

Advocates for the Circle of Protection include evangelical, mainline Protestant, Catholic, Anglo, African-American and Hispanic Christian leaders from across the country. The Circle of Protection case statement, a news release describing the cause, and a list of leaders are available at www.circleofprotection.us.

Backers of the cause acknowledge the necessity of making difficult choices to balance needs and resources, a reference to political battles over  federal and state deficits and budgets. Those choices are not only economic and political, but also moral, they note.

Moral choices

"As Christians, we believe the moral measure of the debate is how the most poor and vulnerable people fare," the Christian leaders say in a statement on the website. "We look at every budget proposal from the bottom up—how it treats those Jesus called 'the least of these' (Matthew 25:45). They do not have powerful lobbies, but they have the most compelling claim on our consciences and common resources. The Christian community has an obligation to help them be heard, to join with others to insist that programs that serve the most vulnerable in our nation and around the world are protected. We know from our experience serving hungry and homeless people that these programs meet basic human needs and protect the lives and dignity of the most vulnerable. We believe that God is calling us to pray, fast, give alms and to speak out for justice.

"As Christian leaders, we are committed to fiscal responsibility and shared sacrifice. We are also committed to resist budget cuts that undermine the lives, dignity and rights of poor and vulnerable people. Therefore, we join with others to form a Circle of Protection around programs that meet the essential needs of hungry and poor people at home and abroad."

Key principles

They list eight key principles of the Circle of Protection:

1. The nation needs to substantially reduce future deficits, but not at the expense of hungry and poor people.
2. Funding focused on reducing poverty should not be cut. It should be made as effective as possible, but not cut.
3. We urge our leaders to protect and improve poverty-focused development and humanitarian assistance to promote a better, safer world.
4. National leaders must review and consider tax revenues, military spending, and entitlements in the search for ways to share sacrifice and cut deficits.
5. A fundamental task is to create jobs and spur economic growth. Decent jobs at decent wages are the best path out of poverty, and restoring growth is a powerful way to reduce deficits.
6. The budget debate has a central moral dimension. Christians are asking how we protect "the least of these." "What would Jesus cut?" "How do we share sacrifice?"
7. As believers, we turn to God with prayer and fasting, to ask for guidance as our nation makes decisions about our priorities as a people.
8. God continues to shower our nation and the world with blessings. As Christians, we are rooted in the love of God in Jesus Christ. Our task is to share these blessings with love and justice and with a special priority for those who are poor.

Balanced tone

Discussions about poverty, social justice and programs for the poor often generate more heat than light. One of the most compelling aspects of the Circle of Protection cause is its humble, balanced tone. It acknowledges the tenuous challenge of achieving and maintaining fiscal responsibility while also recognizing the horrific risks faced by the most vulnerable people across our country and around the world.

Sometimes, discussions such as this get sidetracked. Some truly believe people of faith have no right to speak to issues of public service for the poor. Still, all citizens have the right to speak to issues in the public realm. They have the right to base their positions on reason grounded in their own worldview. In this case, Christian brothers and sisters are advocating for protection of "the least of these" and calling for reasonable consideration of shared sacrifice.

That is a tremendously helpful platform from which to consider all aspects of federal and state budgets, as well as our common life together.

The latest—and one of the most embarrassing in a long while—occurred smack-dab in the middle of my most recent editorial. The piece focused on the recent killing of Osama bin Laden, the prediction by followers of radio broadcaster Harold Camping that the world is going to end May 21, and the uncertainty of life. Quite a mouthful for about 670 words.

And there, beginning somewhere around word #450, I wrote this sentence: "Although the Navy SEALS practiced their mission for months, Obama’s death came as a complete surprise to most of the world."

No scoop, just stupid

No, I didn't scoop every news organization on the planet to announce a coup in White House. Yes, I typed "Obama's" when I should have typed "Osama's." Never mind that I read the editorial umpteen times on my computer screen, and three of us on the Baptist Standard staff proofread a hard-copy of the editorial. We still published—in print and online—a typographical error that substituted the last name of the leader of the Free World for the first name of the world's most notorious former terrorist.

That egg's hard to wipe off the ol' face.

Lessons learned

Still, typos like that teach me a few lessons:

1. Even mistakes produce win-win situations.

My adversaries love it when I make a dumb mistake like that. In fact, I learned about this particular typo in an email from a longtime critic. And the first comment post on the editorial said: "i would suggest proofreading before you post in he future. that would be osama's death not obama's." (OK, never mind this guy doesn't know the purpose of a shift key to make capital letters and doesn't realize copy printed in the paper and transferred to the website is read at least four times. {Don't hold blogs to that standard, however. In order to get these online, we often  settle for proofing on the computer screen. Lousy process, but that's the subject of another blog.})

And the people who care about me step up to comfort and forgive.  When I confessed the Obama-for-Osama mistake, several friends and family members told me how many times they had seen or heard the same mistake in other media in the previous week. These are the folks who give me a metaphorical pat on the back and a hearty, "Better luck next time." Their responses remind me how much God has blessed me with caring folks in my life.

2. Typos provide perspective.

One of my character flaws is perfectionism. My whole life, I've put too much unrealistic pressure on myself to do everything perfectly. Sometimes, perfectionism produces procrastination. So, I fail to do a good thing because I'm waiting until I have enough time to do a great thing. Always, perfectionism produces pressure. Too many times, I've failed to appreciate the world God made and the wonderful people in it simply because I've been tied up in knots with pressure healthy people ignore or put in its place.

So, typos remind me I can't be perfect. I worked hard on that editorial. Read it over and over. Crafted words and phases. And still made a bomb of a mistake. I need to lighten up—take my work seriously, but don't take myself so seriously. I know this now. I'll try to remember it tomorrow.

3. Mistakes aren't the end of the world. 

OK, this is a corollary to #2, but it's a little different. Sure, an additional zero or a missed zero in an employment contract is a big deal. But in this case, all reasonable readers knew exactly what I meant. People being people, most read (or will read) exactly what they intend to read, and they won't even notice the mistake. Sure, I'm embarrassed, but I'll get over it. And that leads to my final point. … 

4. Failure often leads to improvement.

You can bet I'll be even more careful as I proofread the next editorial. And the one after that. And the news and feature stories that cross my desk. I can't take back the mistake I made, but I can pay attention and look out for the next one.

More to follow …

Well, I'm about to sign off now. I wrote this on my laptop, and my proofreading is lousy on my laptop. So, if you find a typo in this blog, just say a little prayer for me.

Because, hey, I'm not perfect.

British researchers have learned church attendance is falling, at least in part, because people are living longer. They don't fear death as much as their predecessors did, so they don't see why they need to go to church.

The discovered that, in Britain, about 20 percent of adults age 65 and older attend church regularly, contrasted with only 11 percent of people between 16 and 44.

Researchers from St. Andrews University in Scotland and the University of East Anglia in England conducted the survey. It was published in the International Journal of Social Economics and reported by Religion News Service .

 The findings reveal younger people question the benefits of going to church year after year, explained Elissaios Papyrakis of East Anglia. Conversely, the elderly are much more inclined to resonate with religion's promise of life after death, he added.

'Graying church'

And that results in a "graying church," because the elderly disproportionately see the value in faith.

Some U.S. critics of the survey claim the research does not apply as readily to this country, which leads the industrialized nations in church attendance. But that begs a question: Did they look at all the gray hair in American congregations on Sunday mornings?

Churches should start focusing on the strong benefits of faith for people while they're alive, Papyrakis advised. Such an approach  "can counterbalance the negative impact of life expectancy on religiosity—which in effect reduces concern about life after death."

Talking sense

That actually makes sense, both theologically and psychologically.

If you read the gospels closely, you'll see Jesus often talked about the presence of the Kingom of Heaven (Matthew) and Kingdom of God (Mark, Luke and John).  Jesus wasn't referencing the sweet bye-and-bye, but here-and-now reality.

The gospel is good news, not simply because it offers "fire insurance" or an escape from hell. It's good news because a relationship with Jesus Christ makes a difference in your life and my life today. And as it changes the day-to-day lives of individuals, it also changes the world. 

The clearest understanding and application of the gospel focuses on a present intimacy and interaction with Jesus. Eternal life is great, but it's certainly not all. You'd never know it to hear some Christians, however. 

And psychologically, the Brits' research confirms it's getting harder and harder to scare the hell out of people. Particularly young people. If our evangelistic focus is on making heaven and missing hell, and young people feel they reasonably can expect to live well past 70, then there's no need in calling on them for, oh, 50 years. 

Christians the world over, and particularly in developed nations, ought to learn from this study. It should nudge our evangelism endeavors to be more congruent with the gospel.

You know who I'm talking about. I'm not going to name (or link to) them in this blog. That would be contrary to the whole point. They crave attention. They wish they could walk around with a big, red arrow pointing to them.

One is an independent preacher who burned a Quran and sparked riots that led to the deaths of Christian sisters and brothers.

Another is the family that calls itself a church, and they travel the country carrying signs with slogans such as "God hates fags" and picketing funerals of innocent people.

Others include the myriad mean souls who "sow discord among the brethren" by gossiping, sometimes blogging, and always disparaging others.

Whatever their alleged cause, banner or  medium, their goal is the same—call attention to themselves. Get on TV or in the papers. Provoke people to talk about them in the church and/or around town.

They remind me of the middle-school bully who punches kids in the face just so the teachers will call his name.

You wonder if their mamas and daddies didn't hug them enough when they were little. They're so lacking in self-esteem that they'll gladly accept infamy in order to be famous.

Often, it's the journalists' job to name them by name. The news would be incomplete without identification. After all, the first of every news story's five W's is "who." But sometimes, I think the most redemptive action would be for everybody to act as if these people don't exist.

If they don't have a microphone, will they fall silent? If they don't have a stage, will they quit acting? If they don't have an audience, will they disappear?

We could only hope and pray.

According to U.S. Department of Health and Human Services:

• 110,586 Americans are waiting for at least one organ.

• 18 people die every day waiting for an organ.

• One organ donor can save up to eight lives and improve the lives of as many as 50 other people.

Register … and talk

The Mayo Clinic reports every American adult can designate herself or himself as an organ donor. Registration to become an organ donor is fast and simple. I registered in less than two minutes at the Donate Life Texas website.  If you don't live in Texas, you can register at  OrganDonor.gov. Please join me as a willing-and-registered organ donor.

Another step is important: Talk to your family. As the Mayo Clinic website notes: "At time of death, a designated donor's family or next-of-kin will be asked to sign an organ donation consent form. Therefore, it is vitally important for people to talk with their families about their wish to donate organs. One-third of consenting donors never realize their wish to donate because family members subsequently refuse permission—in many cases simply because they are unaware of their loved one's preference."

It's personal

If you've read this blog or my column, Down Home, for awhile, you know organ donation is a personal cause. In April of 2009, my sister, Martha, died after the kidney our father donated to her 15 years earlier played out.

Martha had been on kidney dialysis for well more than a year while she worked her way through the approval process for receiving another kidney. She and I  entered the Paired Donor program, which allows a willing donor who is not a match for the recipient to donate a kidney to someone else, whose donor provides a kidney to the process. It's a life-giving program that often involves multiple donors and multiple recipients — and the extension of life.

Martha was blessed, because Daddy gave her a kidney long ago, and she enjoyed many more happy years. We expected her to get another kidney, but an adverse reaction to a rather mild medical procedure—combined with her dialysis-weakened condition—took her life. 

So, our family knows the trauma of waiting with a loved one who needs an organ. In our particular case, we've met fine folks who subsist on dialysis because a healthy kidney is not available for them. We understand the tragedy of needless death precipitated because too few people are willing to say their organs can save others after they don't need them any longer.

More than mortality … 

Thousands upon thousands of lives could be saved if every healthy American carried a little card indicating the availablity of her or his organs. I've pondered why more people don't do this, and the only reason I can come up with is simple: It's unpleasant.

We link organ donation to our own mortality. And since most of us don't really like to consider our own deaths, we pass on signing up to donate. 

It's stewardship

But what if we think of organ donation as an ultimate act of stewardship? If God has given us healthy organs and, for whatever sad reason, we can't use them anymore, doesn't it make sense to pass them on? 

Take a couple of minutes to register as an organ donor. Tell your family about your decision. Save lives.

About two decades ago, cancer attacked a couple of my buddies. They lived in two Southern cities, where our family lived—in one community, and then the other. The first got sick several months before we moved away from our neighborhod; the other got sick several months after we arrived in his  city. We all were in our mid-30s at the time. They died about a year or 18 months apart, leaving strong-and-lovely wives, sweet children and hosts of friends.

I knew both of my friends fairly well before they got sick, and their illnesses drove us closer. You get to know someone when you hold his head while he vomits. You really get to know a guy when you talk in the middle of the night in a dark hospital room.

2 friends, 2 deaths

Talking—first about their illnesses and, later, about their impending deaths—distinguished my friends. 

The first young man wouldn't talk about his illness and, to my knowledge, never discussed his death. He denied their existence. He denied his wife, other family and friends the opportunity to express their love and admiration. He denied himself the opportunity to close his life with intention and defined purpose.

The second friend openly discussed his condition, right from the start. In the early months, he talked about prognosis and procedures. Later, he comfortably and comfortingly talked about anticipating death—how he regretted not getting to see his children grow up, how he felt guilty about leaving his wife with so much hard, and lonely, parenting tasks. Ultimately, he articulated his anticipation of the next life.

My first friend died horribly. Denying to the end, his body spasmed violently, and he exited this life in a cold hospital room, surrounded by masked medical staff working frantically to delay the inevitable. 

My second friend died beautifully.  Open and accepting, he rested in his own home, surrounded by his wife and close friends who grieved their loss but rejoiced that this loved one was entering the presence of the Lord.

I've pondered these friends and their deaths many times through the years. The difference, I think, is how they accepted—or, more precisely, how they trusted—God's love. First John 4:18 says, "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear … ." My second friend believed God's love is stronger than the disease that was stronger than his body. God's love, perfected in the sweet spirit of this faithful man, cast the fear from him. My first friend had accepted Jesus as his Savior, but he never leaned into divine love, and so fear overwhelmed him throughout his final months and into his last moment.

Lessons for today

These friends—and the lessons their deaths taught me—keep coming to mind as I read and hear Christians overwrought by fear. Whether it's a Muslim onslaught, financial peril, government failure or societal ruin, they're scared. That's what they talk about. That's what seems to dominate their thinking.

One illustration: Regularly, I read or hear from Baptists who know their church history. In their calmer moments, they remember our Baptist foreparents championed religious liberty for all people. But they're so afraid of Muslims that they speak about them in ways that surely cause our Baptist champions—Thomas Helwys, Roger Williams, John Leland, George W. Truett—to spin in their graves.

The reason springs from the closing lines of the Apostle John's first epistle. Because of a breakdown of love, they are consumed by fear.

Double failure

The love failure runs in two directions.

Like my first friend, they fail to lean into or to trust God's abiding love. If they truly accepted and believed in God's love, they would know God's grace and presence and peace will be sufficient for God's people, no matter what course history may take. Instead, they have been consumed by fear of what might happen at some point in some future when Muslims become a majority—in Oklahoma, or wherever they live.

But also, they fail to love Muslims. Of course, this may seem hard. But God created all people in God's own image. Hard as it is for them to imagine, God loves Muslims just as much as God loves Baptists, and God loves Iranians as much as God loves Americans. If we're going to follow Christ in this world, that means loving all people, even—or especially—those we believe to be our enemies. 

Imagine a miracle

And if you believe in miracles, then ponder this: If Christians loved perfectly, then that perfect love would drive out the fear in others, such as the Muslims so many Christians fear. Absent of fear and in the presence of perfect love, this world would be a much safer, happier and freer place.

If you've ever lived in a farming community, you know the importance of seed grain. It's the most valable grain, because it's used to plant the next crop. Each single seed represents a multiplied number of seeds, because each will yield a stalk of produce with a head filled with more seeds. In math, that's called exponential progression or exponential growth.

And if you've ever read the history of the Plains, you've probably come across sad stories of drought. In the worst, severe food shortages caused farmers and their families to eat their seed. They staved off imminent starvation but ensured future failure.

Our state is suffering the worst cash drought in years. Dire dilemmas usually call for drastic decisions. But unfortunately, some legislators are casting hungry eyes in the wrong direction.

Educational seed

The Tuition Equalization Grant program represents one of Texas' most valuable and effective silos of educational seed. The TEG program provides state-funded financial aid to offset some tuition costs for Texas students who attend private colleges and universities. Distribution of TEG aid is based on need, and the grants have been crucial for the education of first-generation college students and minorities at those schools.

Schools affiliated with the Baptist General Convention of Texas are slated to receive $29 million of the $101.8 million in TEG funds budgeted for this year. The Texas Baptist institutions verify they distribute TEG aid to students—particularly racial and ethnic minorities—based on financial need. Many of those students could not afford to stay in the schools without the TEG support.

(To see a news story about the TEG situation, click here. To read a Houston Chronicle column about TEG written by Baylor University President Ken Starr, click here.)

Unwise option

Of course, Texans need to sacrifice during these lean times. And Christians, in particular, need to model behavior that reflects our concern for the common good. We must recognize the importance in unselfish budgeting and legislative decision-making. But gutting the TEG program would be unwise for several reasons:

First, such a cut would disproportionately harm students from poor families, particularly minorities and students who are the first from their families to attend college. This would create a financial gap between the private schools and the state population, creating an air of elitism the schools have worked hard to eliminate.

Second, it would have the opposite financial effect from what budget-cutters intend. Texas taxpayers spend more than twice as much on each state-school student as they do on each private-school student. So, when a TEG cutback pushes students from private schools into public universities, we'll more than double our state costs for educating them. (Talk about eating your seed … .)

Third,  it would diminish the positive influence the 40 private schools exert upon our state. Texas enjoys a long history of private college education. Our state's oldest university (Baylor) is private, and the other private schools cover our territory. They typically offer a unique worldview that complements the fine education provided by the public schools. We need the contributions of both to maintain our state's strength.

Fourth, now is the worst time in Texas' history to cut back on education. The future of our state depends upon a strong base of educated workers. If we don't properly and thoroughly train as many young people as possible, our strength in the marketplace will falter. The leadership base of our communities will erode. And as both of these events occur, the financial stability of our state will decline. This particularly will be true if we fail to educate young Hispanics—a key recipient cohort of the TEG—who will comprise Texas' majority population during their lifetimes.

Sure,  we must budget carefully and wisely. But eliminating or drastically reducing the Tuition Equalization Grant program is as bad or worse than eating seed grain. It's not desperate; it's dumb.

The massive earthquake moved parts of the Japanese coastline 13 feet eastward, The New York Times reported. Actually, Japan pivoted, since the region closest to the quake's epicenter moved a greater distance than the regions farther from that point.

Buckle & pop

Here's how The Times described what happened: "That part of Asia, to the surprise of many who look at the geological map, sits on the North American tectonic plate, which wraps up and around the Pacific plate and extends a tentacle southward that part of Japan sits atop. The Pacific plate is moving about 3.5 inches a year in a west-northwest direction, and in that collision — what geologists call a subduction zone — the Pacific plate dives under the North American plate.

"Most of the time, the two tectonic plates are stuck together, and the North American plate is squeezed, much like a playing card held between the thumb and forefinger. As the fingers squeeze the card, it buckles upward until the card pops free.

"In the same way, the North American plate buckles, and the eastern part of Japan is slowly pushed to the west. But when the earthquake, which occurred offshore, released the tension, the land jumped back to the east."

The earthquake made Japan "wider than it was before," as Ross Stein of the U.S. Geological Survey described it.

Spinning faster

Not only that, but the quake also caused Earth's days to get shorter. Here's what happened: The  movement of the tectonic plates shifted Earth's axis and caused the planet's mass to move closer to its center. And, just as a figure skater spins faster when she moves her arms closer to her body, Earth spins slightly faster when its mass is pushed closer to its middle. 

The Times quoted NASA scientist Richard S. Gross, who calculated a day is about 1.8 millionth of a second shorter than it was last week.

Human impact

Both of these changes are so slight no one could notice them without the most precise scientific instruments. They don't make a difference in how anyone lives.

But, of course, the earthquake shifted the life plates and rocked the daily axis for hundreds of thousands, possibly millions, of people. Images of the catastrophe burned into our hearts and minds. And still, it's practically impossible to imagine life in the region closest to the epicenter—shaken by the quake, deluged by the tsunami, further threatened by nuclear disaster.

No doubt, everyone who reads these words can quote Scripture passages about the changelessness and transcendence  of God, as well as how God's heart breaks for the broken, and the presence of God in desolate places. 

While this is true, God beckons us to help enflesh the reality of those promises. And so we pray for the people of Japan, and we give so they can receive some measure of relief.

"The usual focus on improving education, with an emphasis on the quality of teachers or curricular reform, ignores what is an equally productive opportunity for education reform—altering the child-rearing practices of parents of preschool children," The Christian Science Monitor reported. "The approach is especially critical in tackling the achievement gap that plagues low-income and minority students throughout their academic careers."

Parents & education

The Monitor cites several factors that illustrate how parents are pivotal in how well children learn:

• Education starts early. "A child's academic training begins long before he or she sets foot in school," the report notes. "Studies show that more-educated parents instill patterns of thinking, processing information, and early reading instruction that form a vital foundation for later learning."

• Some children start school already behind. "Sadly, children born to parents who have not graduated from high school are more likely to enter primary school less motivated to learn these vital skills than those children growing up with college-educated parents."

•  Parents' education regulates children's achievement. "The best predictor of reading and arithmetic skills in the early grades of school is the education of the parents. This relationship can have a major effect, because parents without much schooling are less likely to read to their children, to engage in reciprocal conversation and play, encourage improvement in their children's intellectual talents, and promote in their children the belief that they can effectively alter their current conditions."

So, schools can't be expected to fully educate children without the help of mom and dad. And since many parents are ill-equipped to teach their children to learn, they need help themselves. That means other people—such as churches—face a significant ministry opportunity in their communities. 

Turning over a new LEAF

Although the Monitor's report is new, the concept is not. It's the idea behind the Learning English Among Friends — LEAF —  program developed by the Baylor University School of Education and School of Social Work. 

Baylor's parent-training program began ins 2003 at Cesar Chavez Middle School in Waco. Through the years, the program has served 450 families at five middle schools. And teaching parents how to help their children learn has made a profound and lasting impact. "Thank you for saving my family," a mother told Randy Wood, a Baylor education professor and co-founder of LEAF. 

Churches can help

The LEAF program is portable and scalable, Wood says. Practically every church everywhere can improve children's education by helping their parents.

“My hope is that others all across the state will catch this vision and many other LEAF programs will ‘branch off’ from ours to help families end the cycle of poverty through education,” Wood said “Baptists in Texas can do it. We have the financial base, but we’ve got to get over color, culture and class. We’ve got to understand that if people can’t read, how are they going to know what the Bible says to them?”

The stakes are high. If this generation of children are not educated well, they and their families will suffer. But it's not the affliction of one class alone. If these children are not educated, Texas will become a backwater, and all our communities will suffer.

We can change lives and share the gospel, simply by helping parents help their children.

No, I'm not one of those people who owns multiple houses and calls them "homes." I only live one place at a time, and a single house is about all I can handle.

But I'm fortunate to call several places "home." 

The poet Robert Frost wrote, "Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in." That's a beautiful, lyrical expression, but I don't fully agree. For me, home is the place where, when you get to go there, they want to take you in.

Mostly, I'm at home in favorite spaces—towns and communities made special by events that took place there, campuses where I learned important lessons, churches that embodied Christ to me, houses of family and friends where I always feel welcome, special places in nature where I feel gladness amidst God's beauty, and even booths in restaurants with people dear to me.

Ironically, "home" does not include houses where I formerly lived. Even though our family enjoyed special, happy times in them, they now belong to someone else now. I would be a stranger within their walls, and they hold no significan meaning apart from sacred memory.

Well, I journeyed to one of my favorite homes this past weekend. Richard Laverty, the pastor of First Baptist Church in Perryton, located far, far north in the Texas  Panhandle, invited me to preach in his absence. What a treat.

First Baptist Church of Perryton has been a missions-minded congregation for generations. In 1963, they felt God leading them to start a new church on the north side of town, and sometime around Thanksgiving, they voted to call my father as the first pastor of their mission, Key Heights Baptist Church. 

I was in the first grade when we moved to Perryton, and we stayed there almost exactly 10 years. It was a wonderful, formative, invigorating, lovely decade. First Baptist "loaned" some of its members to Key Heights and got the young congregation off to a strong, healthy start. Members of both those churches loved and mentored me. Teachers and administrators in the local schools likewise poured themselves into the lives of my classmates and me, and we all had an opportunity to receive a remarkable education. Parents of friends, coaches and kind folks in the community sacrificed to make our town a fine place to raise a family.

Besides the knowledge I learned in the span between my seventh and 17th birthdays, I benefited enormously from the folks who called that positive, affirming, hard-working, proud-in-the-best-sense-of-the-word town their home, too. 

An old African proverb says, "It takes a village to raise a child." While Perryton is half a world away from Africa  (but, ironically, the same evening I arrived, a  team from First Baptist returned home from a mission trip to Lesotho in southern Africa), that proverb was and is true.

Of course, Perryton wasn't and isn't perfect. But Perryton blessed my life, and I'll be grateful forever.

During the weekend, I looked upon faces, filtered through 37 years of absence, and saw smiles and eyes and heard voices that belong to people whose debt I never can repay. But I thank God—and them—for loving a little preacher's kid and his family, and making all our lives far, far better.