Whether or not they endorse real dancing, Baptist churches could learn a lesson from Kip Tindell, chairman and CEO of the Coppell-based Container Store, and what he calls “the customer dance.”

Big Think, an ideas website, calls Tindell “an evangelist for integrity-based sales and brand promotion through actions rather than words.” That’s a great idea right there. If our churches featured more integrity-based evangelism that emphasizes “actions rather than words,” we would see more people following Jesus and more lives, families and communities transformed.

Editor Marv KnoxWhen Tindell starts talking about sales in his stores, he can’t resist telling what he calls the “man in the desert story.” In an interview  at bigthink.com, he acknowledges, “It’s the silliest story in the world.” But it makes a wonderful point about sales. And it makes an even better point about paying attention to people.

“There’s a guy that lives on an oasis in the desert, and he looks out one day, and there’s a man that’s been obviously stranded in the desert for days, kind of approaching death or something,” Tindell explains.

“And so what happens in the retail industry is people rush up to him and give him a glass of water. And then he drinks the water, and they pat themselves on the back, and the man in the desert wonders off some more. They’re feeling great about themselves; they got the guy a glass of water.

“And so there’s so much more that you can do for him. You need to intuit his needs. So, let’s see. He needs more than water. He’s been out there for days; he needs food. He might need electrolytes, not just water, so let’s give him some Gatorade. He needs to call his family and let them know that he’s OK, and not to mention aloe vera and all of that.

The man in the desert

“So, you’re really—the man in the desert—you’re fulfilling his needs, intuiting his needs and filling them through conversation. It’s hard work, but you’re doing all of that. Then you can feel good about yourself.”

Does Tindell know sales, or what? If a Container Store staff member follows his “man in the desert” principle, she’ll turn the sale of an item or two into refitting an entire section of a home.

That’s where “the customer dance” comes in.

Tindell describes a woman in a store’s closet section, holding “a tie rack in one hand and a shoe rack in the other hand.”

“I mean, she obviously has a closet somewhere that’s driving her crazy. And you can conclude that fairly safely,” he observes. “And if you let her get out of there with those two items, she’s still going to have a closet that’s driving her crazy, but the ties and the shoes will be a little bit better off.”

But a caring, attentive salesperson can make that woman’s life better, he insists. A holistic approach to the customer’s needs can lead to understanding her problem and providing sensible solutions she may not have considered on her own.

The customer dance

“What you can do is … take a complete closet approach to really kind of redoing her whole closet,” Tindell advises. “And what that will usually lead up to is a customer that’s vastly happier because she got her problem solved. And she’s dancing in the closet because it’s so perfect. That’s what we’re trying to get. We’re trying to get what we call the customer dance.”

Of course, that’s good business. But it wouldn’t be good business if it didn’t involve paying attention to, caring about and trying to help people.

So, why talk about the sales philosophy of a specialty company, even a Texas-based specialty company?

Because we need to learn Tindell’s lesson.

As Christians, we must pay close attention to friends, neighbors and acquaintances, as well as people who walk into our church buildings. Some of them are carrying a tie rack and a shoe rack, and they’ve got a closet somewhere driving them crazy.

Not literally, of course. But people show us bits and pieces of their lives all the time. Maybe it’s a look of sadness or fatigue. Perhaps it’s a sigh. A shrug or a strange, out-of-context question. Or a few words about a situation. If we’re paying attention and we’re empathetic, maybe we’ll find out about a room in her soul that’s driving her crazy, a situation in his life that’s pushing him to the edge.

Some ministers are tremendous at this. You probably know laypeople who are great at it, too. But what if we all prayed about and worked at paying this close attention to and caring this much about folks who cross our lives?

Maybe we could help meet their needs and lead them to peace in the Lord that would make them so relieved and joyful they couldn’t help but—you guessed it—dance.

Baptists, of all people, are qualified—and should be motivated—to speak words of peace, reconciliation and encouragement to the religious divisions plaguing our world. Disenfranchisement is part of our DNA. We support free speech and free expression. We value religious liberty.

And, if we’re consistent, we will champion freedom and protection for the world’s underdogs.

Editor Marv KnoxAfter Islamic extremists massacred a dozen journalists at the headquarters of the French magazine Charlie Hebdo, 1.5 million supporters marched in the streets of Paris, many carrying signs stating, “Je suis Charlie”—“I am Charlie.” An additional 1.8 million marchers assembled across France, and uncounted others protested around the world.

The slayings—which Muslim imams throughout the West condemned—shocked the world’s sensibilities. Their wantonness seemed calculated to silence not only a satirical periodical, but also critics of Islam and its prophet, Muhammad.

The violence bruised a nerve wherever people value free speech. In the United States, where the First Amendment provides press protection, the attack on Charlie Hebdo seemed incomprehensible. Even people of faith who would be offended by the magazine’s profane parodies of world religions identified with the fallen journalists. “I am Charlie,” they proclaimed.

The pain of contrast rocked Jews, particularly in France and Israel, when the outpouring of sympathy for the slain journalists failed to embrace four Jews murdered two days later in a kosher grocery store, also in Paris. Where were the “Je suis Juif”—“I am Jewish”—signs?

Attacks on Muslims in retaliation

Meanwhile, attacks on Muslims—particularly in France—escalated in the wake of the Charlie Hebdo massacre. So, people who had nothing to do with the jihadists who killed innocent victims became victims themselves. For some French, and apparently others elsewhere, two wrongs do, indeed, make a right.

In Africa, the leader of the Nigerian Baptist Convention castigated others for ignoring the slaughter of Christians by the militant Islamist force Boko Haram. Thousands of Christian Nigerians have died at the hands of the group, best known for kidnapping 276 schoolgirls last year.

In the United States, interfaith controversy erupted at Duke University. Administrators announced plans to broadcast the Muslim call to prayer from the bell tower of Duke Chapel, in the heart of the once-Methodist campus. Following a deluge of protests, the university recanted, and the call to prayer is transmitted over a small speaker just outside the chapel.

These events have little in common and everything in common. They took place on three continents. They involve Muslims as both perpetrators and victims. They touch Christians and Jews and, in the case of Charlie Hebdo, atheists, too.

Increasing religious fractiousness

And they illustrate the world’s increasing religious fractiousness.

As New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman notes, Islamic radicalism has become a significant, intractable force in the 21st century. Friedman argues against diluting its horror with euphemisms, such as calling it “violent extremism” devoid of Islam. He also notes radical Islamists do not represent nearly all Muslims. He builds a case for jihadists’ ties to specific regions. He advocates speaking clearly and candidly when we talk about Islamic radicalism’s threat to world peace.

And that’s where Baptists can do our part, beginning in our own corner of the world. Mostly, we will speak to our own friends and neighbors. Occasionally, we will speak to our communities. Sometimes, we will speak to larger audiences and myriad religious groups. We can contribute to every forum.

Baptists who know their history understand religious persecution. Our forebears suffered for faith in England and in the American colonies. Some died martyrs’ deaths for refusing to baptize their infants. Some, including Baptist co-founder Thomas Helwys, languished in prison for declaring the soul free from tyranny of the state. Baptists in early America suffered scorn, condemnation and imprisonment for refusing to register with the government to preach the gospel.

Baptists have advocated for religious liberty. But we have not hoarded it.

During the colonial era, Roger Williams, who founded the first Baptist church in America in Providence, established Rhode Island as a bastion of “soul liberty” for all people. “I commend that man—whether Jew, or Turk, or Papist, or whoever—that steers no otherwise than his conscience dares,” Williams declared.

In the early years of this nation, Virginia Baptist pastor John Leland convinced his friend James Madison to write the religion clauses into the First Amendment: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.”

Baptists ‘champions of liberty’

In the last century, the great Baptist statesman, and pastor of First Baptist Church in Dallas, George W. Truett championed religious liberty for all people, regardless of faith. On May 16, 1920, Truett stood on the steps of the U.S. Capitol and declared: “Baptists have one consistent record concerning liberty throughout all their long and eventful history. They have never been a party to oppression of conscience. They have forever been the unwavering champions of liberty, both religious and civil. Their contention now, is and has been, and, please God, must ever be, that it is the natural and fundamental and indefeasible right of every human being to worship God or not, according to the dictates of his conscience. … Our contention is not for mere toleration, but for absolute liberty.”

Now, as much as ever, Baptist voices must cry out for religious liberty—not just for ourselves, but for all people.

In our contentious society, Baptists must support both the establishment and free exercise clauses of the First Amendment. Baptists witness the persecution of Christians around the world, and we must sacrifice to guarantee their freedom to worship and their essential safety.

But we dare not hoard liberty. If Jews and Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists, Zoroastrians and atheists are not free everywhere, our task is not done.

Certainly, we must contend with those who would silence all religion. We have shown ourselves quick to oppose those who would silence Christianity. But we likewise must contend for the peaceful worship of others. In the 21st century, that means standing with Muslims to ensure their right to worship, too.

Turn-about apparently is fair play. Even in missions.

For decades after World War II, Southern Baptists—with plenty of Texans at the vanguard—planted churches all over the United States. To be candid, the impetus sprang from a combination of jobs-based migration, missionary zeal and plain ol’ homesickness.

Editor Marv KnoxBaptists raised from Texas to Georgia and up to Virginia found themselves working elsewhere, from the Northeast, to the Upper Midwest and out on the West Coast. They were Baptists, by golly, and they wanted to worship in a Baptist church. And while Baptist congregations already existed in many of their communities, those were different kinds of Baptist churches. So, the immigrants started their own. The Southern Baptist Convention mushroomed, planting churches in all 50 states. Eventually, the migration and homesick influences wore off, and thousands of those “Southern” Baptist churches reflect the indigenous character of their regions.

Because of this legacy, Baptists in Texas and the Southwest have tended to see their region as a mission base and themselves as missionary senders.

Here comes the Baptist General Conference

So, the cover of the winter 2015 edition of Converge Point, the magazine of Converge Worldwide—also known as the Baptist General Conference—might come as a shock. There it is in bold type: “Vision Texas: New faces, new church planting momentum.” The headline over the lead story is even more direct: “Starting churches in the Nation of Texas.”

Most folks affiliated with the Baptist General Convention of Texas probably never heard of the Baptist General Conference. They’re not from around here.

They got their start in the mid-19th century among Swedes who emigrated to the United States  and primarily settled in the Upper Midwest. Early on, they identified ethnically and called their union the Swedish Baptist General Conference. By the mid-20th century, Swedish immigration slowed to a trickle, and English became the primary language in their churches. They also launched non-Swedish churches. So, they changed their name to the Baptist General Conference.

By the end of the last century, “the Baptist General Conference name began to lose its cultural currency,” according to their website. And although they clung to historic Baptist distinctives, they “didn’t want to spend precious time refuting stereotypes of other Baptist leaders or groups.” So they changed their name to Converge Worldwide, although they retained the name Baptist General Conference “in some settings and for legal purposes.”

Focusing on Texas

But now, this former Swedish Baptist group, based near Chicago, is focusing on planting churches in Texas, particularly in North Texas and down the Interstate 35 corridor.

God has been “bringing passionate church planters together in a region experiencing an explosive job market and burgeoning house construction,” Converge Point Editor Bob Putman notes in the magazine’s cover story.

He talks about new churches and planned congregations in some of our state’s fastest-growing communities—McKinney, Prosper and Rhome, as well as Denton and San Antonio.

“What’s attractive for pastors and church planters is we want to be part of a movement that God’s behind,” explains Pastor Randy Moore of Revolution Church in McKinney. “God is behind Vision Texas,” the church-planting emphasis.

“Texas represents an Alaska-size opportunity for Converge church planting, Putman adds. “Led by God, (Converge church planters) have banded together to reach the Lone Star State.”

If the Converge Movement’s Texas-sized audacity has raised the hackles on the back of your neck, take a deep breath and pat those hackles down.

Allies in reaching Texas

God bless our formerly Swedish Baptist Converge sisters and brothers. They’ve been our allies in the Baptist World Alliance and the Baptist Joint Committee for Religious Liberty for decades. And they’re our allies in reaching Texas with the gospel.

Texas is too big and too lost to worry about who participates in saving souls and discipling people in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Our state is growing faster than we are reaching it. So, if an Illinois-based Baptist movement pulls alongside our BGCT boat to fish for women and men, then the least we can do is extend the right hand of Christian fellowship, pray for them and bless them.

(OK, the irony is too great: The same thing applies to the Southern Baptists of Texas Convention, which split from the BGCT in 1998. Yes, some of their leaders still misrepresent our convention. But the vast majority of their churches and pastors are sweet-spirited folks who want to share the gospel with people who desperately need it. God bless them, too.)

The church-planting endeavors of other Baptist Christians—even right here in Texas—ought to inspire us to greater effort and generosity. Texas Baptists have developed a wonderful church-planting program, and many of our churches plant other churches. But we can do more. We must do more.

After all, the “Nation of Texas” needs the gospel like never before.

A Dallas Morning News headline popped off the computer screen: “Why Jason Garrett is allowing the Cowboys to take risks.”

(Ironically, of course, I realize the risk of writing an editorial based upon the Dallas Cowboys head coach’s newly emboldened tactics: Many Texans don’t like the Cowboys. Also, I’m writing this before the Cowboys play the Packers for the first time in the postseason since the 1967 “Ice Bowl.” Garrett could call a risky play that doesn’t work, and the Cowboys could lose at Lambeau Field, once again. But a loss still wouldn’t undermine the fact Garrett’s team has won more games this year, even as he’s called more risky plays.)

Editor Marv KnoxThe article, written by Morning News staff writer David Moore, illustrated Garrett’s risky/successful streak by highlighting the pivotal play in the Cowboys’ come-from-behind playoff victory over the Detroit Lions:

“The Cowboys trailed by three points with six minutes left against the Lions. On fourth-and-six from the Detroit 42-yard line, quarterback Tony Romo hit tight end Jason Witten for a 21-yard gain.

“Six plays later, the Cowboys scored a touchdown that would hold up for their first postseason victory in five years.

“‘It shows he believes in us,’ Romo said.

“Too often in these situations, a coach makes a decision not to lose rather than to win.”

This scenario and Moore’s observations resonate beyond the football field and the locker room. They ring true in our communities and in our congregations.

Playing to win rather than not to lose

Too often churches—and denominations, to be honest—falter because they play not to lose rather than play to win.

We do less than God expects. We love less than others need. We care less than our hearts desire.

We take the safe route. We’re content to settle. We’re unwilling to risk.

Romo identified his coach’s new-found boldness: “… he believes in us.” Princeton-grad Garrett is smart, but he didn’t start calling passes on fourth-and-six and onside kicks in the middle of games because he read a book on sports statistics. He started running risky plays because he paid close attention to his players. He observed their stamina, their character, their will. He liked what he saw. He believed in them. And throughout the season, they reciprocated that trust.

Christians, of all people, ought to be able to understand this principle.

We worship and serve a God who deserves absolute trust. God’s faithfulness is unfathomable, because it’s built upon God’s infinite, unconditional love. Of course, that does not mean everything happens the way we want it to and we never experience disappointment. But saints across the ages confirm God’s love and faithfulness endure, no matter what happens.

Risk for the Kingdom’s sake

So, we should be willing to take risks for the sake of God’s kingdom. You and your church can figure out what they are. A new worship service designed especially for unreached people in your community. Perhaps a needed ministry that never will “pay” for itself. Maybe entrusting leadership positions to young adults. Possibly something you’ve never even dreamed, but you need to pray for the vision and courage to dream it.

We must take risks, because the world and our communities are changing so rapidly, we never will meet their needs if we’re not bold, aggressive, risky. Every week, we face real-world fourth-and-six situations. We can’t help all the hurting people and proclaim the gospel to all the lost and don’t-even-know-they’re-lost people if we can’t tolerate risk.

One of the great benedictions, usually attributed to William Sloane Coffin, offers this prayer, which wraps blessing and wisdom around risk:

May the Lord bless you

and keep you.

May God’s face

shine upon you and

be gracious unto you.

May God give you the grace

never to sell yourself short;

grace to risk something big

for something good;

grace to remember that the

world is too dangerous

for anything but truth and

too small for anything but love.

So, may God take your minds

and think through them;

may God take your lips

and speak through them;

may God take your hearts

and set them on fire.

May it ever be so.

A few weeks ago, our Bible study class wrapped up a survey of the Apostle Paul’s letters to his protégé Timothy. Although the epistles present advice to the young pastor in Ephesus, our class members are closer to the age Paul attained by the time he wrote them. It seemed we filtered our reading through the lenses of life experience. None of us has been beaten, run out of town or imprisoned for our faith. And I don’t think anyone has been shipwrecked or bitten by a snake. But you don’t reach our age without enduring heartaches, disappointments and grief.

Editor Marv KnoxSo, we resonated with Paul’s concluding declaration of hope: “But the Lord stood with me and strengthened me, so that through me the proclamation might be fully accomplished, and that all the Gentiles might hear; and I was rescued out of the lion’s mouth. The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed, and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom; to him be the glory forever and ever. Amen” (2 Timothy 4:17-18).

Bold words from a saint near the end of a hard life. Paul suffered mightily for the gospel. He lived a nomadic existence, subject to the perils of first-century travel. He felt the full weight of the Jewish religious hierarchy and the Roman government. Worse, he endured malicious disrespect from competitors within the church. By the time he penned these words, he was queued up in the Roman judicial system, heading for what he certainly knew would be martyrdom.

Yet all Paul saw was God’s rescue and provision. He recalled not persecution and rejection, but gospel advance. Based on other passages, we know Paul expected to die soon. Still, he believed God would rescue him from “every evil deed” and deliver him to God’s “heavenly kingdom.”

God is present

Paul reminds us reality extends beyond what we see, past the tangible people, places, situations and events in our lives. God is present. Even amidst pain and disappointment. Even when we cannot see.

Hope puts its full weight down on God. It’s not wishing for desired outcomes. Hope is trusting God in all outcomes.

Not coincidentally, our class finished studying the Timothy letters on the second Sunday of Advent and immediately turned our attention to Christmas, when we celebrate the birth of Jesus, the Hope of the World.

Christmas delivers hope, but not because of the baby in the manger. Christmas delivers hope because God took on flesh and descended to Earth, incarnating—embodying—God’s presence among us. Jesus came to express God’s everlasting love to humanity. He came to provide an eternal bridge to that love by saving us from our sins and restoring our loving relationship with God.

The hope of Christmas is not the manger, but the cross.

And even though that hope is eternal, it’s also present. It’s not just the sweet bye-and-bye, but also the here-and-now. That’s good news as we enter a new year.

At least four times in the Gospels, Jesus declares: “The kingdom of God (or heaven) is at hand” (Matthew 3:2, 4:17, 10:7; Mark 1:15). To be sure, Jesus talked about eternity. But he insisted eternity already is present. Relationship with God is here. Now. Life change is available this moment. To demonstrate, he repeatedly healed the sick, fed the hungry and comforted the afflicted. He didn’t promise them a reward in another life; he relieved their suffering immediately. He delivered hope.

We will be judged by how we deliver hope

In one of his final teachings, Jesus said his followers will be judged by how well they bring kingdom reality to the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick and the prisoners (Matthew 25:31-46). We will be judged by how we deliver hope.

And that’s a strong admonition for Christians on the precipice of a new year. To be faithful to the Hope of the World, we must deliver hope to the world. Tangible hope. Spiritual hope.

The two are bound together. Tangible, physical hope is vital. And it also lends credence to spiritual hope.

Surveys of American adults consistently show most people think they’ll go to heaven, and few believe in hell. No wonder argumentative evangelism rarely produces new Christians. Most unbelievers see truth as relative; they’ll let you keep yours, but leave theirs alone. And you can’t scare hell out of them, because they think they’re heaven-bound.

So, we’ve got to show them exactly how the kingdom of heaven is at hand. Jesus explained: “And as you go, preach, saying, ‘the kingdom of heaven is at hand.’ Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons. Freely you received, freely give” (Matthew 10:7-8).

Throughout 2015, may we perpetually demonstrate the “at-handedness” of the kingdom of heaven. Present and the eternal hope hang in the balance.

Compare the week from Christmas to New Year’s Day to a lookout point on a scenic highway. It’s a great place to stop, stretch and survey the scenery. If you pay attention, you can scrutinize significant markers on the road just traveled and scan the horizon for adventures ahead.

Each of us will remember personal events from the past year. I’m fairly certain I’ll recall 2014 for a child who arrived, a woman who departed, something that didn’t happen and a big decision.

Editor Marv Knox• Eleanor, our second grandchild, arrived Dec. 4. She’s the first baby born to our younger daughter, Molly, and her husband, David. She’s swaddled sweetness. And Joanna and I can hardly wait to spend the coming years getting to know her.

• Helena Loewen Moore, my grandmother, left for heaven this fall. Grammar was 103 years, six months and 21 days old when she died. I mostly remember her as the vigorous woman who took me for long walks and warbled hymns. If Eleanor lives to be as old as her great, great grandmother, their lives will span 207 years.

• For the first time in four years, neither of my parents spent even a single day in intensive care. Praise be to God.

• Late this summer, after years of hard work, fervent prayers and bountiful tears, Baptist Standard Publishing decided to close FaithVillage, our resources website/social network. Perhaps FaithVillage arrived ahead of its time. I hope one day to turn on my computer and visit a site very much like it, touching millions of Christians around the globe.

You can pause to contemplate 2014 developments imbedded in your memory. Every year writes stories on the pages of each life.

The year past

The year just ended also coded monumental stories on the transcript of history. We’re bound to remember 2014 for:

• The Ebola crisis, which ravaged West Africa, jumped the Atlantic and demonstrated the vulnerability of a small planet populated by highly mobile people.

• The rise of extreme militant Islam—known as the Islamic State, or ISIS or ISIL—in Iraq and Syria. Also, systematic beheadings staged as ISIS fund-raisers/intimidation snuff films/recruitment videos

• Other violent terrorist groups, such as Boko Haram in Nigeria, al-Shabaab in Sudan and the Taliban in, among other nations, Pakistan, where they slaughtered schoolchildren in mid-December.

• Deaths of a black teenager, a black man and a black child. We may not recall the names of Michael Brown, Eric Garner and Tamir Brown, but we won’t be able to forget their deaths disproved America is a post-racial society.

• Revelations of U.S.-sanctioned torture, inflicted since 2001 by the CIA.

• U.S. political division, clearly represented by results of the mid-term elections, which set up a titanic battle between the Democratic White House and the Republican-controlled Congress.

• An airplane that veered off course, never to be found, but presumably resting on the bottom of the Indian Ocean.

• An airplane shot down over Ukraine, civil war in that Eastern European nation and the specter of Russian empire-building.

• Thousands of Latin American children and teenagers who teemed across the United States’ southern border.

• The military tar-babies of the late 20th/early 21st centuries, otherwise known as Iraq and Afghanistan.

• The political battle over immigration reform, stalled again.

• An improving economy that lowered unemployment but still left a widening gap between the rich and poor.

• The tragic suicide of one comic genius, Robin Williams, and the public shaming of another, Bill Cosby.

The year ahead

A litany of letdowns from 2014 is enough to divert wind from the sails of the most diehard optimist. Even more dispiriting is the apprehension we’ll be reviewing a similar list for 2015 a year from now.

Still, as you consider the mishaps, catastrophes and atrocities of the past year, ponder words from one of Texas Baptists’ great gifts to the church (and world), gospel artist Cynthia Clawson.

Near the end of a Christmas concert, she observed: “As people of faith, we don’t expect much anymore.”

She’s correct, you know. Life’s destruction and disappointment beat us down. We review the malignant machinations of a year like 2014, and our God shrinks. We consider the obstacles, challenges and outright evil looming in 2015, and our hope shrivels.

“As people of faith, we don’t expect much anymore.”

What if we decide that won’t be true in the coming year? What if we expect more of God, ourselves and others?

Human nature being what it is, and the world broken as it is, 2015 probably will produce as much carnage as its elder brother, 2014. But what if we refuse to let that define us? What if we reject the ensmallment of God? What if we decline to allow circumstances to handcuff our spirits?

We may not heal all the world’s ills. We won’t even get close enough to inoculate for many of them. But living out of vibrant, expectant faith, we can make a difference in our homes, offices, schools, churches, communities—even our state and nation and selected corners of this big old world.

With God all things are possible

Once upon a time, Jesus encountered a young man who expected too little of himself, much less of God. Jesus told his followers an eternal truth about salvation, which also applies to divine expectation, “With people this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

The Apostle Paul likewise possessed expectant faith. He promised the early church—and us, “I can do all things through him who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:13).

Missionary pioneer William Carey lived a large faith. He is known for launching the Baptist missions movement. He admonished: “Expect great things from God. Attempt great things for God.”

As 2014 draws to a close, let’s expect more of ourselves and of God in 2015.

The headline gets right to the point: “Thieves taking the Christ out of Christmas. Literally.” But the story isn’t another installment in the long saga of the so-called “Christmas wars” (which, by the way, conservatives apparently are winning.) 

Turns out, America is experiencing a rash of burglaries from nativity scenes, according to the news website Religion Dispatches. 

Editor Marv KnoxThieves steel their nerves on the periphery of parks, churchyards, manicured lawns and other public places where the Holy Family resides. And then, sometime between dark and dawn, they rush in and steal the Baby Jesus.

But that’s not all. Some Christological kleptomaniacs even burgle the Babe from store shelves. For example, shoppers who want to buy a manger at Scheels Home & Hardware in Fargo, N.D., will discover a sign that tells them: “Please ask for Baby Jesus.”

Nativity nabbers have struck from California to Minnesota to New Jersey and New York, as well as up to Boston, where one crèche has been robbed three times, Religion Dispatches reports.

Redeemer robbers didn’t start heisting the Holy One this Christmas season. Awhile back, I reported on the BrickHouse security firm, which created the “Saving Jesus” program. BrickHouse will provide crèche owners a free GPS device they can hide on or imbed in the Jesus figure. An owner of a stolen Savior receives a text or an email, reporting the nativity nabbing. Then the system enables the owner or police to track the robbers and retrieve the Christ Child.

All this information about literally “taking the Christ out of Christmas” poses a question: How do we allow others—other people, circumstances, activities—and, worse yet, ourselves to steal the Christ from us at Christmas?

You don’t need to look far to find Christians for whom Christmas is anything but a joyous season. In fact, for many folks, it’s the most painful time of the year.

Some sources of sorrow steer straight at our hearts. We remember absence. We think of family and friends who have died, as well as divorce, strained and estranged relationships, war and other calls of duty, illness and distance. Naturally, we experience sadness in this season, when the intensity of all emotions is heightened and when loss or absence of loved ones feels all the more acute.

Similar feelings trail behind disparate experiences of loss—jobs, security and health come readily to mind. You can think of others. They may not have anything to do with Christmas, and we may feel them every other day. But when they contrast with apparent—real or otherwise—happiness all around, their pangs stab sharply.

So, sadness at Christmas sometimes is unavoidable and completely understandable. Like other seasons of life, the goal simply may be to survive, to hope for happier seasons to follow.

But for many of us, the failure to experience joyful Christmas is self-inflicted. We do this to ourselves. We crowd out glad tidings with bad vibrations, which resonate from dissonant chords of our own composition. Culprits include:

• Pressure of perfection. Sometimes, we emphasize the wrong things about Christmas. We idealize it to be “just so.” We want everything to be perfect. Perfect decorations. Perfect gifts. Perfect cards. Perfect parties and meals. Even perfect spiritual events, such as cantatas and Christmas Eve services.

Of course, nothing is perfect. When the reality of our accomplishments fails to match the romanticism of our aspirations, we wind up disappointed. And even when the trappings of Christmas are “practically perfect in every way,” we realize perfect isn’t good enough.

We need to relax. What if we all aspire to a “good-enough” Christmas? Maybe we’ll find more energy for joy, love and gladness.

• Forced frivolity. Feigning happiness because it’s expected is exhausting. Of course, Christmas points us to the source of deepest joy. But joy never denies sorrow, hurt and sadness. Christians can be joyful about Christmas without all the external trappings of happiness.

When we attempt to project only happiness because we believe only happiness will do, we strain credulity. And even if we fool everyone else, we don’t fool ourselves. Bearing untruth is a heavy spiritual burden.

So, let us take joy in remembering the birth of our Savior. But let us not pretend that birth papers over all our present realities.

• Too much of a good thing. Sometimes, we overdo Christmas, don’t we? Do you remember children who experienced the worst moments of the year on Christmas afternoon or evening? Too many gifts, too much celebration, too many sweets, too much attention. The little body—not to mention the little spirit—simply couldn’t sustain the excitement. And it all came crashing down.

Of course, preschoolers aren’t the only ones who suffer from too much of a good thing. Adults likewise go overboard. And usually, the more we whip up Christmas excitement, the more we feel we’re missing something. This, of course, leads to the final Christmas-stealing culprit …

• Too little of the best thing. Between shopping and wrapping, parades and parties, festivals and cantatas, mailing cards and decorating the yard and a million other details, we can lose track of reality. We declare, “Jesus is the reason for the season,” but even well-meaning Christians can get so busy and/or distracted we miss Jesus in all the hubbub.

A handful of days stand between us and Christmas. Can we set aside time each day to reflect on the depth and breadth of God’s love expressed when our Creator took on human flesh and ultimate sacrifice? If we celebrate faithfully, then no matter what happens to the baby in our front-yard manger, nobody will be able to steal the Christ from our Christmas.

Without a doubt, one of the questions most often echoed from generation to generation reverberates in the back seats of millions of cars and minivans: “Are we there yet?”

Decades ago, I inflicted that age-old inquiry on my parents. For most summer vacations, we drove from our home in the Texas Panhandle to Colorado or New Mexico. Unfortunately for my mother and dad, the mountains loomed ahead of my sister, brother and me for what seemed like light years. The further to ask—or maybe plead: “Are we there yet?”

Editor Marv KnoxOf course, turn-about is fair play. So, when my daughters were young, and their mama and I drove first from Tennessee and then from Kentucky to visit family in Texas and Oklahoma, those little girls couldn’t comprehend time or distance. Long before the hills stopped rolling and the woods disappeared, we heard persistent voices calling from behind us: “Are we there yet?”

Now, we’re about halfway through Advent 2014, halfway to Christmas. In some ways, it feels like we’re all in the back seat of God’s family vehicle, taking a journey that feels like forrr-evvv-errr. Don’t you want to call out, “Are we there yet?”

Depending on when you read this, we’re about to celebrate or just finished celebrating the third Sunday of Advent. We’ve passed Hope and Peace, and we’re rounding Joy, heading for Love.

Christmas has been a long time coming this year. For sure, it falls exactly 365 days after last Christmas, per usual. But in many ways, the time and emotional distance have felt further.

Racial tensions

This year, racial tension has stirred our nation—perhaps more deeply than at any time since 1968. For all our suppositions and/or desires, everyone from the Civil Rightsiest to the Jim Crowiest among us has had to acknowledge we don’t live in a “post-racial” America. Somehow, some way, our society must change.

Resurgent terror on faraway lands has reminded us anger—spawned by ethnicity, religion, politics and economics—could boil over anywhere, any time. A year ago, who among us had heard about anything called the Islamic State, or ISIS, or ISIL? Who considered beheadings would become a regular topic on the evening news or fodder for the Internet?

We realized we live on a small and fragile planet when Ebola leaped from West Africa, crossed the Atlantic Ocean and landed in North Texas. Anyone who took either continental isolation or healthcare for granted had to reconsider.

Election year

We also endured the biennial slugfest known as an election year. Whether America is divided politically may be debated, but our governance system has produced divided politicians. We’re likely to pay the price at state and national levels.

This year—at least as much, maybe more, than most years—we’re ready to turn our hearts toward Bethlehem. Every time we flip on the TV news, pick up a newspaper or click on a news website, we remember how much his world needs to be redeemed. When we feel the weight of it all in the center of our chests, we know we—all of us collectively, but also individually—need a Savior.

With the ancients, we look ahead with longing. Through the eyes of faith, we claim hope that transcends time:

Truly my soul finds rest in God;

my salvation comes from him.

Truly he is my rock and my salvation;

he is my fortress, I will never be shaken. …

Yes, my soul, find rest in God;

my hope comes from him.

Truly he is my rock and my salvation;

he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.

My salvation and my honor depend on God;

he is my mighty rock, my refuge.

Trust in him at all times, you people;

pour out your hearts to him,

for God is our refuge. …

One thing God has spoken,

two things I have heard:

“Power belongs to you, God,

and with you, Lord, is unfailing love”;

and, “You reward everyone

according to what they have done.”

(Psalm 62: 1-2, 5-8, 11-12)

So now, we are halfway through Advent 2014. We are waiting. Waiting for Christmas and candlelights and carols and family and feasts. But that’s the least of it. We are waiting for hope. Waiting to be reacquainted with the Prince of Peace. Remembering his birth reminds us we were re-born in him. Recalling his coming causes us to latch onto the promise he will redeem heaven and earth.

Lord, have mercy. Bless us as we wait. Impatiently, as a 3-year-old on Christmas Eve. Expectantly, as a 9-year-old on Christmas Morning.

Three Texas pastors stand on the leading edge of a major cultural shift. And the movement could enable both conservative and liberal churches to emphasize the vitality and importance of marriage.

As the Baptist Standard previously reported, pastors Brent Gentzel of Kaufman, Kyle Henderson of Athens and Kris Segrest of Wylie are urging ministers to stop signing marriage licenses. The practice—which makes the minister a de facto government official—creates an unhealthy marriage between church and state, they contend.

Editor Marv KnoxAccording to the pastors’ concept, a couple could join themselves in holy matrimony through a covenant marriage ceremony at church and go to the courthouse to make their union official in the eyes of the state.

Turns out, their view has gained traction among Americans at-large. A new LifeWay Research poll reports almost 60 percent of Americans believe government should not define or regulate marriage. And 36 percent of Americans believe “clergy should no longer be involved in the state’s licensing of marriage.”

Pastors aren’t so keen on the idea. Only 24 percent agree clergy should divorce themselves from signing marriage licenses. But the three-quarters of pastors who disagree should reconsider.

Why change?

Four reasons stand out …

First, if pastors narrow their congregations’ focus to blessing religious covenant marriages and refuse to sign marriage licenses, they will restore Baptists’ historic emphasis on the separation of church and state.

Second, this notion is more than a historic footnote. The principle ideally creates “a hedge or wall of separation between the garden of the church and the wilderness of the world,” insisted Roger Williams, founder of the first Baptist church in America. Williams’ ideal—later echoed by Thomas Jefferson—should appeal across the political spectrum. For conservatives, it protects the church from government intrusion. For liberals, it protects government and society in general from sectarian religious zealotry.

Looking to the future, the third reason builds upon the second. Even though the First Amendment protects the free exercise of religion, some Americans—including many conservatives—worry the broadening legality of gay marriage could mean ministers would be forced to marry homosexual couples. But if a church does not provide traditional marriage services, including validating a marriage license, and only offers a specifically religious covenant marriage ceremony, then the minister would be exempt from compulsory state service—signing a marriage license.

Focus on the faith aspect of marriage

And finally, the practice would help churches—whomever they choose to marry or not to marry—focus on the divine notion of marriage. It would enable them to deepen their emphasis on the faith aspect of marriage, to help couples both confront and embrace the spiritual dimension of their marriage as a lifelong commitment that involves not only them, but also God as the center of their home.

Of course, implementing covenant marriage will require ministers and congregations to change longstanding policy and practice. It also will require couples to participate in a two-step commitment process—and some will choose to bypass the church ceremony altogether, since they will be married legally after their trip to the courthouse.

But this idea offers a win-win-win-win scenario: Affirm historic church-state separation. Protect the church and state from each other. Guard clergy and churches from political/regulatory intrusion. And heighten the spiritual emphasis on marriage as divine covenant.

Churches and pastors should talk about this long and hard in the coming new year.

No matter what we think about a grand jury’s decision not to indict police officer Darren Wilson in the shooting death of Michael Brown, can we acknowledge attitudes about race divide our nation?

The grand jury’s Wilson/Brown decision sparked protests in 170 cities across the nation. Despite looting in Ferguson, the vast majority of those protests remained peaceful, although deeply passionate.

Editor Marv KnoxTo be sure, the death of one black teenager at the hands of one white policeman did not send tens of thousands of protestors into the streets. Likewise, the decision of one mixed-race grand jury not to indict one officer did not cause hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of Americans who resonate with those protestors to shake their heads in disbelief.

No, reaction to the grand jury’s decision transcended what happened both in the middle of a suburban street last summer and a decision reached in a county courthouse just before Thanksgiving.

For millions of Americans, the grand jury’s decision represents American racial injustice. The point is not Michael Brown and Darren Wilson. The point is every person of color confronting white authority in our society.

You definitely recognize this if you are a parent of nonwhite teenagers—particularly sons, especially black sons. You probably recognize this if you are the friend of one or more of those parents and you have had honest conversations about raising their children in America today. You recognize fear. You recognize utter powerlessness to ensure the safety of young people you love more than life itself.

The gunshots reverberate

Do not be distracted by the specifics of Michael Brown’s case. By nearly all accounts, both Brown and Wilson were at fault that hot summer day. All other facts aside, a black teenager died in the street, and a white police officer pulled the trigger. The echoes of those gunshots reverberate still.

They reverberate in the hearts of parents of color, who fear dangers almost invisible, if not incomprehensible, to white parents. Fear that a child, particularly a son, will be assumed guilty if anything—and sometimes before anything—goes wrong. Fear of wrong time/wrong place/wrong color scenarios ending in tragedy and injustice. Fear of a future filled with mountain-high obstacles composed completely of melanin.

They reverberate in the hearts of white people, too, who cannot comprehend racial rage a half century after voting rights and civil rights acts supposedly changed the nation. Who cannot explain, much less tolerate, what seems to be simple lawlessness. Who, though they rarely think it and cannot express it, fear a future in which that rage embodies full expression.

This is why we’re all so fidgety about Ferguson. Together, Wilson and Brown pulled a scab off a wound white people thought—maybe “hoped” is a better word—healed over. But it’s a wound everyone else knows still oozes, far from healed.

So, how does it ever heal? Can we, as a nation, ever actually achieve “post-racial” peace? And if it is attainable, how do we reach it?

Responsibility of the church

This is a challenge where the church—full of conservatives and liberals alike—should wave off government and proclaim clearly and forcefully, “We’ve got this.”

Baptists are best equipped to lead in charting racial progress and, ultimately, peace. Of all voluntarily associated groups in America, none is as racially mixed—though not fully integrated—as are Baptists. The Baptist banner flies over African-American, Anglo, Asian-American, Hispanic, multi-ethnic and myriad other congregations. We don’t come together all that often on Sunday morning, but we come together. In Texas, we know each other moderately well, because we come together in associational and state meetings and sit across from each other at virtually all institutional board meetings.

Yet beyond platitudes of resolutions and other broad public statements, we rarely address race.

Sisters and brothers, we’re past due for heartfelt, honest and fearless conversations. We need to talk about race. And we need the unvarnished truth.

We need to hear from one another. But for starters, Anglos need to keep quiet and listen. Whites must plead for blacks, Hispanics and others to talk candidly about what life is like for them. About raising children. About jobs and education and opportunity. About healthcare and housing. About traveling anywhere and everywhere. About drugs and prison. About our denomination, too.

And then Anglos should respond. Not with defensiveness or explanation. But with similar honesty. About what frightens them. About what frustrates them. About how they see change.

The bosom of the church may be the only safe place for such conversations.

But until we talk, honestly talk, we cannot hope to heal.

What a splendidly spirited, delightfully divine calendar collusion: This year, the Lord’s Day following Thanksgiving is a fifth Sunday and also the beginning of Advent.

So, on Sunday, Nov. 30, as our hearts bask in the afterglow of counting our blessings during Thanksgiving and begin to beat a little faster in anticipation of Christmas, they can open up to the needs of people Jesus called “the least.”

Editor Marv KnoxOn fifth Sundays—the dates when calendars contain a fifth Sunday in a given month—churches across the state collect funds for the Texas Baptist Hunger Offering. And in 2014, the fifth Sunday of November happens to be the Sunday after Thanksgiving and the first Sunday of Advent.

This time of year, we pause to consider our blessings and thank God for divine bounty infused into our lives. The most tangible, gracious and effective way to express our thanks is by sharing our blessings with others.

That’s really the Jesus way, isn’t it? In his first sermon, Jesus told the folks from his hometown the Spirit of the Lord had anointed him to proclaim good news to the poor (Luke 4:18). And what better way to make good news feel real to poor people than by bringing lunch? At least twice, when Jesus spent a long day healing multitudes of people, the Scriptures say he felt compassion for the crowds and fed them (Matthew 15:29-39; John 14:13-21).

Jesus also taught that when we see the hungry and feed them and see the thirsty and give them something to drink, we’re actually feeding and providing water to him (Matthew 25:31-46).

The plight of the hungry

Jesus clearly took seriously the plight of the hungry. If we dare to take his name and call ourselves Christians—literally, “little Christs”—then we’re bound to follow his example. Feeding the hungry is part of what being a Christian means.

The Texas Baptist Hunger Offering provides all of us with a straightforward opportunity to do just that. Through the Baptist General Convention of Texas and its myriad partners, the offering supports 66 hunger-related ministries throughout Texas, seven across the United States and 70 around the world. That means you can improve the lives of the poor, neglected and hurting through a total of 143 projects encircling the planet.

Help plant community gardens in Texas. Provide chickens for orphans in Congo. Improve soil fertility in Indonesia. Supply seeds and farm tools in Peru. Help poor people start family-supporting businesses in Morocco, India, Sri Lanka and Uganda. Distribute food in at least 46 Texas communities, pockets of poverty across the nation and in Bangladesh, Latin America, Eastern Europe and Africa. Underwrite poverty-busting training in 10 Texas cities, as well as the Dominican Republic, Jerusalem, Puerto Rico and Sierra Leone.

Can you express your gratitude?

And those are just some of the opportunities. We’re facing a world of hurt. How bountiful is your gratitude for God’s goodness? How can you express it?

After you count your blessings, be sure to contribute to the hunger offering at church next Sunday. Even if your congregation doesn’t take up the offering, you can go online and contribute by clicking here. And if you don’t want to donate online, you can either write a check payable to your church and designated for Texas Baptist Hunger Offering or mail a check payable to Texas Baptist Hunger Offering to BGCT Christian Life Commission, 333 North Washington, Dallas 75246.

A bunch of out-of-staters are trying to tell Texas what to do.

We should listen to them.

The situation involves the upcoming execution of Scott Panetti, a 56-year-old mentally ill man convicted of murdering the parents of his second wife in 1992.

Editor Marv KnoxA broad range of Christian leaders appealed on Panetti’s behalf to Gov. Rick Perry and the Texas Board of Pardons and Parole. In a Nov. 12 letter, they expressed “grave concern” about the execution, to be conducted by lethal injection Dec. 3.

“The gospel message compels us to speak for those without a voice and to care for the most vulnerable,” their letter says, according to a report by Baptist News Global. “For this reason, it is imperative that we treat those with mental illness in a fair and humane manner.”

The letter claims Panetti’s execution “would be a cruel injustice that would serve no constructive purpose whatsoever.”

Panetti’s history of mental illness stretches across three decades. At his trial, he dressed in a cowboy suit and represented himself. He tried to subpoena Jesus, the pope and John F. Kennedy.

Overturned once

The U.S. Supreme Court overturned his death sentence because justices believed he did not understand why he was to be executed, the BNG report noted. He claimed he was being executed for preaching to other death-row inmates.

A lower court agreed with prosecutors, who said Panetti exaggerated his mental illness, and handed down another death sentence. Appeals ensued, and the Supreme Court declined to hear the case again.

Out-of-state leaders who have asked the governor and the pardon board to intervene include Sam Rodriguez, president of the National Hispanic Christian Leadership Conference in Sacramento, Calif.; Jay Sekulow, chief counsel for the conservative American Center for Law and Justice in Washington; Shane Claiborne, a founder of the progressive The Simple Way in Philadelphia; Lynn Hybels of Willow Creek Church in the Chicago area; David Gushee, an ethicist at Mercer University in Atlanta and Macon, Ga.; and Fisher Humphreys, a retired professor at Samford University’s Beeson Divinity School in Birmingham, Ala.

Texas signers include Charlie Johnson, executive director of Pastors for Texas Children in Fort Worth; Alan Bean, head of Friends of Justice in Arlington; Heather Mustain, associate pastor of Wilshire Baptist Church in Dallas; and Stephanie True, associate pastor of University Baptist Church in Austin.

Decency demands it

Gov. Perry and the pardon board should heed the ministers’ counsel—whether it comes from outside or inside the state.

Decency demands it.

The execution of a mentally ill person—who otherwise would serve a life sentence in prison—does not protect society. It does not even provide reasonable punishment, because the condemned person does not understand the reason for his execution.

The faith leaders provided a clear case for commuting Panetti’s sentence: “When we inflict the harshest punishment on the severely mentally ill, whose culpability is greatly diminished by their debilitating conditions, we fail to respect their innate dignity as human beings. We therefore respectfully encourage you to consider granting Scott Panetti’s clemency petition and commuting his death sentence to life in prison.”

We have been discussing capital punishment for years. Texas is known around the world for its seeming bloodlust for lawbreakers. We lead the nation in executions. And if we put a mentally ill inmate to death, we further damage our tarnished reputation.

Texas, the state that takes pride in its churches and its piety, can do better than this.

Even outsiders are telling us so.

We should listen to them.

To read the Baptist News Global report on this case, click here.