Where were you?

Chances are, you recall exactly where you were and what you were doing the moment you knew nobody ever would forget Sept. 11, 2001. Unless you saw it for yourself and realized the size of the aircraft, maybe the first plane crash into the World Trade Center tower didn't sear itself into your memory. But then a second plane slammed into the other tower, and another rammed into the Pentagon, and a fourth plummeted into the Pennsylvania countryside. By late morning, the whole world knew terrorists burned "9/11" into eternal consciousness.

Still, we couldn't fathom the depth of all we witnessed, could we? That evening, Joanna and I kissed our girls goodnight, prayed for their safety and wondered what kind of world they inherited. We cried for the unspeakable grief borne by people who lost loved ones that fiery day. We prayed for the survivors, for New York City and Washington, and for our leaders. We agreed we had no idea what this meant and how our world would change. The enormity of the moment dwarfed our imaginations. Conversations like ours echoed in millions of homes that night.

Ten years later, we still struggle to comprehend what 9/11 means, don't we? On that sunny morning, explosions, flames and smoke altered our global landscape. We woke up in a seemingly structured world, where nations, militaries and economies exerted order and seemingly supplied safety. We went to bed in a chaotic world, where terrorism transcended borders and random violence destabilized peace. On that day, perversions of world religions (Islam vs. Christianity) replaced implementation of economic theories (communism vs. capitalism) as the political narrative of our era.

Since 9/11, much has changed. And little has changed.

If you don't think we live in a different world, fly somewhere. Or visit a government building. Or discuss where Muslims should be allowed to build their mosques. Or follow the news of the United States' longest war (Afghanistan) and a war of questionable origin (Iraq).

Positively, consider the increased respect we now afford firefighters, police and emergency medical providers. Think about how we've learned to remain vigilant, adapt to security measures and keep on keeping on. Unfortunately, many among us—some Baptists included—have at times regressed in their resolve to protect religious liberty for all people. Too often, we've failed to recognize terrorists do not represent Islam any better than Nazis, Klansmen and skinheads represent Christianity. Historically, you can understand why we have regressed, but regression remains a loss.

Despite all this, much about our world has changed very little. Even in the shadow of the 9/11 anniversary, Americans' primary concerns are economic—the country's debt, jobs, house prices, the stock market and affordable health care. Terrorism affects those core issues only indirectly. Day to day, we care about raising and educating children, going to work, planning for retirement, replacing bum knees and repairing clogged arteries, living in safe communities and driving on good roads.

Fortunately, spiritual realities remain as true today as they were on 9/11:

• Only God can save us. The Sept. 11 terrorists attacked two repositories of American faith—money and military. The Twin Towers, symbols of economic stability, crashed, and a gaping gash ripped through the heart of the Pentagon, seat of armed strength. Neither withstood the onslaught of evil.

The psalmist reminds us where to place our trust: "God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the sea, though its waters roar and foam, and the mountains quake with their surging" (Psalm 46:1-2).

• God suffers with us. Jesus, fully divine, took on human flesh and identified completely with us. He feels every pain and comprehends every fear. When terror strikes and uncertainty dominates, he understands. He grieves with us.

• Love defeats fear. If we wish to live without fear, we must love even our enemies. This is a hard, but true, lesson. We must not view all who appear similar to terrorists as terrorists themselves. Extremists in any world religion do not represent the beliefs of millions who wear the same religious label. We must not treat them as terrorists treated us. Love, not hate, is our weapon of choice in a war of fear.

The Apostle John said it best: "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear …" (1 John 4:18).

—Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at baptiststandard.com.

Words simultaneously dumbfound and fascinate me sometimes. I love 'em—how words sound ("perambulate," for example, and "lackadaisical"), subtle differences between words that almost mean the same thing but don't ("impersonate" vs. "imitate"), words that are spelled almost alike but are totally different ("cable" and "cabal") and words that tell you something about a person by the way she pronounces them ("banal" and "schism").

OK, that's weird, but I'm a word guy. Words aren't just tools I manipulate to make my living. They're verbal salsa; they add spice to life and to one of the very best aspects of life—conversation.

Lately, I've been pondering a couple of common words in uncommon sentences. See, I've been laboring over a sermon on the 23rd Psalm. Studying this psalm is like examining your best friend's face. You think you know every square millimeter. But upon close inspection, you see wrinkles and creases, scars and blemishes you never noticed before. Each one tells a story, and each one colors the character of the face you love.

The psalm's first unexpected word is "want" in verse 1: "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want." When I stopped to think about it, I expected "need." The Lord could be expected to supply all our needs. In fact, that's what the Apostle Paul says in Philippians 4:19, "And my God will supply all your needs according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus." But the psalmist says, "… I shall not want."

The key to "want" vs. "need" lies in trusting God as a sheep trusts its shepherd. The sheep depends upon the shepherd to provide what is best, and that, in turn, is what it wants. Through the years, I've realized when my relationship with God is at its deepest, then what I want is exactly what I need. Like when I come in from running in Texas summer heat, the only thing I want is what my body needs more than anything—water. When I'm consistent in practicing my spiritual disciplines, the first thing I want in the morning is precisely what my soul needs—time alone with God through Bible study and prayer.

The second unexpected word startled me when I read verse 4: "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." If I were King David, I would not have chosen "comfort" to accompany "your rod and your staff." Maybe "your strong hands and resonant voice, they comfort me." Or perhaps "your tender eyes and your sturdy pen, they comfort me."

A rod and a staff are the shepherd's instruments of protection and correction—both valuable, but not necessarily associated with comfort. Some scholars believe both "rod" and "staff" are translations of the same Hebrew word; others believe they're similar, but different.

The rod—a thick club—is an instrument of power. The shepherd protected the sheep and himself with his rod, fighting off predators to save the flock. The rod also represented ownership and control. The shepherd held out his rod as he herded the sheep into the fold, counting each as it passed under the rod.

The staff—a long, curved stick—is an implement of discipline. The shepherd extended his staff to pull an errant sheep back into the flock. He tapped his sheep with his staff to move them along. With his staff, he kept them together and guided them to green pastures and quiet waters.

Upon reflection, no word could be more appropriate than "comfort" to describe the result of God's protection and correction. Like sheep, we need boundaries for our own good. We're no match for the waywardness of our distractions and for our indiscriminate inclinations. We need the Good Shepherd to stand between us and the evil that would devour us. And like sheep, we need continual correction and guidance, to keep us on the path toward our spiritual home.

The psalmist insists we need not fear the valley of the shadow of death. If you don't believe in that valley, read the newspaper. But fear does not dominate us. The Shepherd walks with us. Take comfort.

–Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at baptiststandard.com.

Gov. Rick Perry's big prayer rally—The Response: A Call to Prayer for a Nation in Crisis—will be held in Houston Aug. 6. I previously expressed reservations regarding a prayer meeting promoted by politicians who have so much to gain by playing the religion card. But as long as they're praying—and prayer is a good thing—I hope they pray for:

• "The Others." The rally should open with Republicans praying for Democrats, Democrats praying for Republicans and Independents praying for everybody. The rich should pray for the poor, and the poor for the rich. Anglos should pray for people of color, and vice-versa. Maybe if Americans pray for each other, we might develop sensitivity to and empathy for each other, which would be a solid step toward national unity.

• Enemies. Jesus commanded, "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you" (Luke 6:27-28). So, we ought to pray for the world, particularly the Taliban, al Qaeda, Hezbollah and Hamas. Of course, we want to convert them. But let's start by praying for their welfare. Enemy combatants are mothers' sons and childrens' fathers. Perhaps if they experience peace and prosperity and security, their incentive to make war will diminish. You say that's naive; pray with faith.

• Climate. Texas is enduring the worst drought in the 116-year history of record-keeping. Heat waves are scorching the United States from the Southwest to New England. These summer extremes exacerbate the damage of crippling blizzards, tornados and floods. We could use some relief, and just about everybody can agree to pray for rain.

• Government ethics. Oh, where to start? How about a bi-partisan trait, like hypocrisy? When Republican George W. Bush was president, Democratic senators Barack Obama and Harry Reid voted against raising the U.S. debt ceiling, while Republicans Mitch McConnell and John Boehner voted for increases. Now, they've all flip-flopped. If politicians would behave consistently—wanting and voting for the same things, whether or not their party is in power—they could do some good. Of course, they still wouldn't agree on everything and would disagree on very important issues, but they would find plenty of room for consensus.

And while we're praying for them, let's ask God to give our leaders servants' spirits. Raise your hand if you believe the president, your senators and your representative place the good of the country ahead of personal power and party politics. Thought so. Think how things would improve if our leaders sought the common good, not the interests of the powerful, and if they truly represented all their constituents, not simply the ones whose money put them there.

• Justice. A new report documents the widest economic gap between U.S. whites and people of color in a quarter-century. The Pew Research Center survey shows that, on average, whites (whose median household wealth in 2009 was $113,149) possess 20 times the net worth of African-Americans ($5,677) and 18 times that of Hispanics ($6,325). This staggers the imagination.

Whites tend to justify their wealth by citing education, hard work and frugality, which are valid points. But I rarely hear them talk about opportunity, particularly the disparity between economic possibilities proffered to them compared to the prospects for African-Americans and Hispanics. And in this scorching summer, I have seen people of color working long and hard in jobs most whites would not consider. All this aside, how can white America seriously believe it deserves to be 18 to 20 times wealthier than blacks and Hispanics? If you think this pleases God, then, in the words of a pastor-friend: Come see me. And bring your Bible.

Well, we're almost out of space, but not out of prayer requests. America stands in need of so much prayer. Let me list other items for our list: Abortion. Capital punishment. Education. Sexual behavior of all kinds. Marriages. Influences upon children and teens. Biomedical ethics.

Make your own list. And pray, sisters and brothers. Pray.

–Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at baptiststandard.com.

Will you pray and fast for the future of our nation on Aug. 6? Gov. Rick Perry has set aside that day for The Response: A Call to Prayer for a Nation in Crisis, a rally at Reliant Stadium in Houston. Perry has invited the other 49 governors, plus pastors and various leaders. Thousands of people are expected to fill the cavernous room, asking God to bless and save the United States.

I can’t drive down to Houston that day, since I plan to repair the caulk and grout in a bathroom at my parents’ home in Oklahoma. But I will spend the day in prayer, and I will skip meals so hunger pangs may intensify my focus on the Lord and on our nation’s need. I hope you’ll be praying, too.

First, I will express thanks that God loves us and desires a relationship with each of us. God’s love makes prayer possible and infuses it with infinite value. Next, I’ll thank God for the blessing of prayer and for the opportunity to live in a nation where people can gather to pray, not only at a football field, but in places of worship large and small.

Then, I’ll pray that the Houston rally will neither cheapen nor pervert prayer. This is a practical possibility, particularly for a massive meeting led by people who have much to gain beyond the spiritual benefits of prayer. On the one hand, large rallies featuring government and civic leaders sometimes descend into civil religion, marked by “to whom it may concern” prayers that are so generic they offend no one and address no One. This cheapens prayer. On the other hand, some rallies vibrate with fervency, but the prayers seek to co-opt God on behalf of partisan propositions. This perverts prayer.

Of course, our nation and world need prayer. We may describe the problems and challenges differently, but Americans across political, economic, social and racial strata seem to agree we’re in a hard place. But we must not assume a huge prayer rally will make all things right. In a similar time, a prophet delivered these words from God: “I hate, I despise your religious festivals; your assemblies are a stench to me. Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them. Though you bring choice fellowship offerings, I will have no regard for them. Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harps. But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream”?(Amos 5:21-24).

Speaking from an age similar to ours, when the chasm between the haves and the have-nots widened daily, Amos reminds us our solemn assemblies and prayer meetings repulse God if we do not seek justice and reconciliation, if our hearts are not filled with mercy, grace and compassion.

Yes, we need prayer. But the Houston rally will do more harm than good if it:

• Politicizes prayer. This can happen at least two ways. First, if duplicitous politicians spout pious platitudes because they please the people. Hypocrisy may be effective in the short run, but it’s usually uncovered, and it’s always an affront to God. Second, if ardent advocates seek to align God’s will with one perspective or political party. Hard as it is for partisans on both sides to believe, many of their adversaries base their politics on their understanding of God’s plan. In broadest terms, one group emphasizes resourcefulness and personal responsibility while the other side underscores justice and care for the vulnerable. Both emphases are needed; neither is sufficient.

• Marginalizes others. The problem with political leaders headlining a Christian rally is that millions of their constituents are not Christians. Spiritual aspirations for souls aside, elected officials have a mandate to treat all law-abiding citizens fairly and equally. A partisan rally can give religious minorities the impression they are not welcome and leaders believe they are part of “the problem.” This would exacerbate divisions that already rend our national fabric.

• Fails to change anything. So much is at stake. Perhaps Americans will turn their hearts toward God in repentance and national reconciliation. If not, the prophecy of Amos will ring true again in our time.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at baptiststandard.com.

A reader recently sent a long, thoughtful letter expressing disappointment with the Standard’s treatment of David Barton, an activist who advocates for what his website calls “America’s forgotten history and heroes, with an emphasis on our moral, religious and constitutional heritage.”

The reader felt we should have published a response from Barton in our June 6 article on the Baptist History and Heritage Society’s meeting in Dallas. A speaker alleged Barton and others who claim America is a Christian nation offer “a story with just enough truth to give the air of credibility but riddled with historical inaccuracies.” The reader and I traded reasons for and against interviewing Barton—who was not on the society’s program—for our article. We corresponded frankly, yet cordially, and our e-mails provided food for thought regarding how to report on controversial presentations in which only one “side” is presented.

Our exchange also prompted me to think about claims that the United States is, and always has been, a Christian nation.

The “Christian America” camp cites public statements and letters attributed to the Founding Fathers, as well as those 18th century American leaders’ reported faith affiliations. From this, they claim the Founders intended the United States to be Christian in origin and conduct. Then they extrapolate that Christianity should exert its historic hegemony over the faith-life of the nation. In practical terms, this would mean reinstating organized prayer in Jesus’ name in public schools, providing government funds for faith-based organizations, posting the Ten Commandments in courtrooms, outlawing Sharia law, basing state and federal laws upon conservative interpretatons of the Bible and affirming other practices that preserve Christian dominance in society.

Their detractors assert many of Barton’s historical citations are inaccurate or lifted out of context. They note that while numerous Founding Fathers were Christians, others were not—at least in the way they are presented today. They describe how the Founders, themselves inheritors of the Enlightenment, learned lessons from religion-based, monarchy-sponsored European oppression and war, and so they saw the wisdom in separating church and state and guaranteeing religious liberty for all people.

Any argument between “Christian America” advocates and church-state separation supporters devolves into a vortex. Both sides cite original sources and historical precedent. Neither acknowledges the validity of the other.

Ultimately, for Baptists at least, this doesn’t really matter. Even if every one of Barton’s claims is accurate—and significant historical documentation and even his own website indicate otherwise—his premise that America is quintessentially Christian and the Christian faith merits official favor should be refuted, at least by Baptists who understand their heritage and basic doctrines.

These reasons stand out:

• The Founding Fathers were not infallible, and the 18th and 21st centuries are enormously different. As Brent Walker, executive director of the Baptist Joint Committee notes, the Founders could have been wrong on some points. A quote by John Quincy Adams does not settle the issue. And even if the Founders were right for their time, the application of principles looks quite different when you compare their relatively simple society to our enormously complex culture.

• If we are true to our heritage, Baptists seek precedents from our spiritual forebears, not our political founders. For example, 17th century Baptists Thomas Helwys in England and Roger Williams in the colonies suffered persecution because they championed religious liberty for all people—not just Baptists, but people of other faiths and no faith. Eighteenth century Baptist John Leland secured such liberty in the First Amendment. If they lived today, they would fight for the rights of Christians, but also Jews, Muslims, Mormons, atheists and agnostics. They would proclaim all voices should be heard, and government should neither advocate for nor interfere with any of them.

 Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at baptiststandard.com.

In a few days, I’ll stand beside wonderful friends and conduct their wedding. Our family has known the bride and her family since she was 4 years old. We’ve watched her grow up and mature into a beautiful, confident, thoughtful woman of substance and of faith. And now she has discovered and fallen in love with her soul mate. We’re thrilled for them. So, joining them in marriage will be one of the best tasks I undertake—not just this year, but my entire life.

My perspective apparently defies conventional wisdom. This week, we’re publishing a package of articles on marriage, and one of them reveals some dismal statistics:

• Divorce has more than doubled since the 1960s, and that pace has slowed only because more unmarried couples are living together.

• Four in 10 U.S. babies are born to unwed mothers.

• Married couples now comprise the minority in America—only 48 percent of households.

• Moreover, a Pew Research Center/Time magazine poll shows almost 40 percent of Americans believe marriage is obsolete.

Still, I’m delighted to join our young friends as they celebrate their marriage. Research from across at least two decades confirms the blessing this marriage will provide, particularly if it produces children and this couple remains together to raise them. The sons will be less inclined toward violence and much less likely to go to jail, and the daughters will be less inclined toward promiscuity and much less likely to bear children out of wedlock. That’s only part of it. Research also shows children raised by their parents are safer and, on the whole, perform better in school. (This takes nothing away from the many single parents who are doing an exemplary job raising children, often under difficult circumstances. It simply attests to the fact most children benefit from the intact marriages of their parents.)

But marriage isn’t simply about the kids. Scripture,  history and human experience all point toward God’s design. “Then the Lord God said, ‘It is not good for the man to be alone; I will make him a helper suitable for him.’ … For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother, and be joined to his wife; and they shall become one flesh” (Genesis 2:18, 24). From the very beginning, women and men have needed—yearned for—the deep, intimate sense of knowing and being known only marriage offers.

When I was younger, I?always thought the reference to “one flesh” was all about sex. Maybe that was because, for young men, practically everything is about sex. And to be sure, biblical scholarship validates the place of sexual relations and procreation as central to marriage.

But the longer I am married, the more I realize “one flesh” far transcends sexuality. As a matter of fact, if sex were the qualifier for “one flesh,” then rampant promiscuity has produced a race of mutants, whose aberrant oneness intermingles among multitudes. No, ideal oneness reflects a unity only attainable when two people so closely identify with each other they realize they are incomplete when they stand alone.

This is tricky, because all people are individuals created in God’s image, and the singular self never should be subsumed beneath another. Dominance—sometimes disguised as biblical hierarchy—produces dysfunction.

But we live in a society too quick to promote the individual. We would be healthier and our marriages would be stronger if we sought to define and derive marital identity as a couple. Describing a healthy marriage is as challenging as explaining the Trinity, the eternal Three-in-Oneness. A strong marriage brings together two vital individuals who still possess personal will and selfhood but who are not completely identified or understood without the other. The only way a marriage—any marriage—can endure the strains and challenges of life is by achieving integrated identity that refuses to see the one as completely separate from the other and prefers the spouse to the self. If Christians modeled marriages like this, perhaps the perception of matrimony would improve.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at baptiststandard.com.

An e-mail from a friend sparked my imagination about a vital requirement for maintaining spiritual and emotional health: Letting go. It’s the ability, as well as the willingness, to relinquish control of and obsession about plans and situations and other people, both past and present. Folks who let go seem to be more successful at navigating the twists and turns of life than those who can’t, or won’t, my friend observed.

She’s correct, you know. The Bible, literature and “real life” are filled with the stories of people who could not let go and suffered the consequences. Lot’s wife refused to let go of her hometown, Sodom, and perished (Genesis 19:24-26). The Children of Israel would not let go of their fear, and they died in the wilderness (Numbers 13-14). The rich ruler could not let go of his wealth, and he gave up a relationship with Jesus (Luke 18:18-30). The Pharisees and Saducees could not comprehend letting go of their idea of a military messiah, and they missed meeting the true Messiah. Today, the grapevine of family and friends as well as the news bring tales of sorrow and woe because people refuse to let go of ideas and notions that block them from true joy and gladness.

So, what should we let go? Each of us could write a list as unique as our thumbprints. I’ll go first and offer a few ideas for starters. To be spiritually and emotionally healthy, we need to let go of:

• The past. How often are people imprisoned by the past? They let failure, or even success, define them. Fixated on what was, they can’t get around to dealing with what is.

We certainly must learn from the past. Failure to learn dooms us to repetition. And we do well to appreciate the past, particularly all the joyful memories and valuable lessons. But the past is finished. No amount of re-living it, or anguishing over it, or even reveling in it will change the past and can only damage the present.

• Children. Letting go of children is perhaps the most wrenching challenge of parenting. That’s especially true when raising them has been a delight. But letting go is one of the most demanding and necessary tasks of parenthood.

Failure to let go is like holding a butterfly or a hummingbird in your hand. You may crave the connection, but inevitably, you inflict harm. Children do not exist for the pleasure and amusement of their parents. As much as we feel children belong to us, we do not own them. We’re only stewards, and they cannot be all God intended them to be unless we let them go.

• Other loved ones. Often, grief compels us to hold on to those we love, even when health demands we must let go. This can happen when someone we love dies. We weren’t ready to say goodbye, and so we traverse our grief as a bridge. If we suffer, we still feel connected. Similarly, it happens when a relationship—a marriage or a friendship—ends badly. All that remains is the pain, and we choose to writhe in order to remember.

Deep as the love is or was, it does not define us. Held-onto pain offers only a chimera, a shadow of past reality. Grief is natural, but it is not ultimate. If a loved one has died, we entrust that life to God’s sovereignty and grace. If a loved one has left, we recognize the otherness of our own self and trust God to fill the void of relationship.

• Plans. Most of us are inveterate planners. That’s not necessarily bad. Planning usually is productive. But sometimes, our plans—even our best, most treasured plans—are not God’s plans. Occasionally, our plans go awry. More often, they take a back seat to the demands of the day. And in the best times, they pale in comparison to what God has in store. Still, we cannot open our hands to receive God’s plans until we let go of the old plans we keep on clutching.

The danger—OK, let’s name it: sin—of refusing to let go is idolatry. This especially is true for the good we grasp. What could be more sacred than birthing and raising children? What we grasp most tightly can become our god. What we hold on to for security likewise is our god. But when we let go, we trust God for our future. We open our hands in faith to God. And we learn God’s love and imagination infinitely transcend our own.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at baptiststandard.com.

Congratulations, graduate. At some point plus or minus about three weeks, you have passed or will pass an academic milestone that involves walking across a stage, accepting a diploma from a distinguished-looking person a lot older than you, listening to the raucous woo-hoos of your family and friends, and moving a tassle from one side of the world’s goofiest-looking hat to the other.

I’ll spare you the usual graduation fodder: “Commencement” isn’t the end of your academic career; it’s the beginning of the next phase of your life. Much has been invested in you to bring you to this moment; now is the time to give back. “No man is an island.” All well and good. Believe it.

In the spirit of commencement speeches left unspoken, please permit a few words to the wise. You can—and will, and should—expand on this list for decades to come. Here goes:

• Get a life. That’s the advice novelist Anna Quinlan offered to Villanova University graduates a few years back. “Get a life. A real life, not a manic pursuit of the next promotion, the bigger paycheck, the larger house. … Get a life in which you are not alone. Find people you love and who love you. And remember that love is not leisure; it is work. … Pick up the phone. Send an e-mail. Write a letter. Kiss your mom. Hug your dad.”

• When faced with the choice between clicking on the TV or picking up a book, grab the book. Not all the time, of course. You don’t have to be a zealot. But read, for goodness’ sake. Keep learning. Digital or dead tree, just read.

• And a corollary—work a crossword puzzle, take on Sudoku, calculate your car’s miles per gallon in your head or play a musical instrument. Whatever it is, force yourself to think logically and analytically and sequentially. Keep the wiring in your noggin tight. Don’t let your brain atrophy.

• Eat bran cereal. And ice cream. Get plenty of exercise. And lay in the hammock. You’ve got to take care of that body of yours. Right now, your motivation is to look good in size-# jeans. Later in life, it will be to walk without huffing. But if you don’t take care of it now, you’ll get so far (and big) behind, you’ll never catch up. Remember, health isn’t about looking good. It’s about keeping that one body you’ve been given in working order so you can enjoy that one life you’re living and glorify the one God who gives you life.

• Laugh. Cry, too. Mirth and tears are like emotional drain cleaner. They help you flush out the pipes before they clog, back up and soil everything.

• When you work, work hard. The quickest way to get people to disrespect you is to fail to carry your own weight. Be the go-to guy, the get-it-done gal. Whatever your job, it’s a gift from God. Treat work as worship—a way of praising God for the ability and the opportunity to be productive.

• When you play, play easy. Just relax. Don’t expect too much from a day off, a vacation, a night on the town. When you expect too much, play becomes work.

• Be generous. I’ve never missed the money, time and effort I’ve given to others. But I’ve been ashamed of being stingy.

• Live outwardly. Think more about how your life impacts others, not how theirs impacts yours. Don’t worry about getting credit. Try to ignore insults.

• Settle for the next-to-last word. I’ve regretted many more arguments I’ve won than arguments I’ve lost. Sure, that sounds ridiculous; it’ll make sense later. Especially if you’re ever married.

• Be fearless. Not foolish, but fearless. There’s a difference. The foolish take unnecessary risks. The fearless realize all of life is risky, and they refuse to sit on the shore just to play it safe. They steep their lives in Scripture, prayer and the counsel of godly friends. They realize whatever happens, God is with them, working to redeem all situations.

• Live in relationship. With God. With others. A wise teacher once said, “Faith is relationship.” Salvation isn’t so much about making heaven and missing hell as it’s about forming your life in love with God. That love is big enough and broad enough to flow from you to everyone you know.

–Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at baptiststandard.com .

We recently experienced one of those rare, almost-universal “Where-were-you-when?” moments, didn’t we? “Osama bin Laden killed by U.S. Navy SEALS.” I’ll remember that statement forever. A friend read the headline from a news feed on his cell phone as we sat under the stars in Winston-Salem, N.C., where we attended a board meeting of the Standard’s news partner Associated Baptist Press.

For most people, the report of bin Laden’s death triggered memories of an infinitely painful moment. Where were you when you heard about 9/11?

Sudden cataclysmic events sear themselves into the public psyche, collectively and individually. Practically everyone of a certain age remembers where they were and what they were doing when they received news of President Kennedy’s assassination, the murder of Martin Luther King Jr. and both space shuttle explosions. Other events—less wide-scale but no less intense—drill down and fasten to the core of smaller communities. The tornadoes of ’11 will provide a dating-marker in Alabama for a generation, just as sanctuary fires mark congregational epochs.

In addition to counterbalancing 9/11 and providing a pivot point in the war on terror, the sudden elimination of bin Laden offered abundant food for theological thought.

Almost as quickly as jubilant crowds poured into city streets across America, Facebook friends and Twitter tweeters began asking: How should Christians respond to the death of someone who, for millions of people the world over and particularly in the West, symbolized raw evil?

Thoughtful, faithful Christians affirm feelings of relief, if not outright jubilation. Based upon principles of justice, bin Laden deserved to die for his role in 9/11, as well as other terrorist activity. And given his ongoing leadership of al Qaeda, principles of utility support his death now, before he could direct his forces to kill even more people. If the world is a safer place and fewer people will be victimized because he is gone, then relief is justified.

But faithful Christians who experienced a measure of grief over bin Laden’s death are no less patriotic than those who danced in the streets. He seemed to personify malevolence, yet he was a human being, created in the image of God. That almost sounds blasphemous, doesn’t it? But orthodox Christianity maintains all humans bear the creative mark of their Creator. Morover, bin Laden no doubt died without a relationship to Jesus Christ. Evangelical Christians appropriately grieve at the death of all people who do not know their Savior. As our friend and fellow Texas Baptist Jim Denison reminds us, the best response to the gravest danger in our world today is prayer for the conversion of Muslims. Even horrific Muslims like bin Laden.

Although the Navy SEALS practiced their mission for months, Osama’s death came as a complete surprise to most of the world. This has been quite a year for surprises. The earthquake, tsunami and nuclear crisis in Japan. Political revolution and the fall of dictators in the Middle East. Tornadoes and floods across the South. And, inevitably, more personal shocks, such as the diagnosis of advanced cancer and the debilitating fall of friends.

If you look for them, surprises supply serendipitous spiritual blessings. They remind us life is not entirely predictable and we’re not in control. Of course, this comes as a shock. Often, it’s also a disappointment. We tend to think we can control our destinies. And while God allows us to cooperate in creation, we are not ultimate. Even in our grief and rage, we remember the solid, soothing truth of Romans 8:28—God is in this life with us, working to bring good out of even the worst we can imagine.

And speaking of imagination, California broadcaster Harold Camping and his followers are predicting Judgment Day will take place May 21, and the end of the world will occur Oct. 21. I wouldn’t go out and buy your Rapture robe, since Jesus said we won’t know the day of his coming. But if they’re right, I hope my next column appears in the Pearly Gates Gazette.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at baptiststandard.com.

[Editor's Note: This story was corrected 05/06/11 changing Obama to Osama in "Although the Navy SEALS practiced their mission for months, Obama’s death came as a complete surprise to most of the world." ]

Just before Sunday morning worship a few years ago, an associational director of missions sidled close to me so I alone could hear his important inquiry: “Do you intend to preach from the King James Version of the Bible?”

“Yes, sir,”?I replied. “This is King James country.”

“Very good,” he affirmed, smiling broadly. “I’m carrying an extra copy, just in case you aren’t.”

The director of missions was a caring minister and a true friend. He wanted the folks in the rural congregation to worship God that morning, and he knew they wouldn’t think about the Scripture, much less listen to my sermon, if the text were not marked by the distinctive “whithersoevers” and “beseecheths” of their beloved King James Bible. He also realized these good people just might run the editor of their Baptist newspaper out of town on a rail, and he didn’t want that happening on his watch. Forsooth!

For millions of English-speaking Christians, the King James Version is the only faithful representation of God’s holy Bible. The KJV marks its 400th anniversary this year, and we recognize that event in the cover package of this edition of the Baptist Standard. We hope you find the articles informative and insightful, and they prompt you to thank God and celebrate the rich legacy of the most widely read version of the most influential book in all history.

While the King James Version may be the most famous and perhaps most beloved Bible, it’s one among a multitude. The Bible app on my cell phone allows me to choose among 21 English editions of the Bible. And if I were sufficiently fluent, I could read from 62 versions in 23 languages, even as missionaries around the globe lovingly labor to translate God’s truth into other tongues.

What’s your favorite translation of the Bible? Tough question, isn’t it? As we’ve planned this celebration of the King James, I’ve tried to pick a favorite, and I can’t do it. God’s blessings are just too abundant. But I’ve narrowed my list to four translations. Here they are, along with the reasons why they top my list:

• King James. Although Elizabethan English is not my mother tongue, the King James still feels like my spiritual tongue. Since I’m of a certain age and from a certain background, my earliest memories from church and home include passages of the Bible read or recited in King James English. That’s how I imagined God and the ancient Hebrews and all the apostles sounded. When I recall most Scripture, it comes out in the King James’ phrases, because that’s what I memorized as a child and youth. Besides all that, the power and majesty of its language still stirs my soul. When I read purely for devotion, I typically turn to the KJV.

• New American Standard. This is the most literal word-for-word translation of Old Testament Hebrew and New Testament Greek into English. When I’m studying the Bible or preparing to teach, I always turn to the NASB, because it provides the most consistent, literal rendering. And so it is an invaluable tool when my first task is to understand specifically what the authors intended. The “down” side to this translation is that it’s sometimes choppy and difficult, because the syntax of ancient Hebrew and Greek is different than contemporary English.

• New International. The NIV offers the most fluid, readable text of the major English translations. That’s why it has become the most popular translation among U.S. evangelical Christians. Although some word choices and phrase selections have been politicized in recent years, it’s a solid and beautiful translation. When I preach, I almost always read from the NIV, because I know most of the worshippers will be reading from it, too.

• The Message. This relatively new edition was translated by a pastor who sought to offer his church members an accurate version of the Bible in the everyday English of today’s Americans. In that regard, it’s quite faithful to the early intention of the King James—a lovely, eloquent translation of the Bible in language spoken by the people.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at baptiststandard.com.

This time of year—with Palm Sunday, Holy Week, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter immediately before us—I find myself pondering the words to a mesmerizing song written and performed by gospel- and folk-singer Darrell Adams. It’s called Friend of Jesus, and one of the lines goes like this: “Jesus was a friend of Matthew, James, on down the line. I do believe I’d been a friend of Jesus in his time.”

That song has haunted me for three decades. It has crawled around my mind and traversed my soul because, when I’m honest, I’m not sure I can sing it with conviction. Would I have been a friend of Jesus in his time? Don’t know.

Of course, you can interpret Friend of Jesus a couple of ways. The straightforward inference acknowledges Jesus was a friend to sinners. He chose Matthew, James and John, as well as unsavory souls the song describes as the “hard-line gang.” Jesus picked people who needed a friend, and he became their friend. He even befriended a traitor like Matthew and a prostitute like Mary Magdalene.

So, when you look at it that way, maybe I would have been a friend of Jesus. He could read people the way a scanner reads a bar code. Maybe he would have seen the need in my life for a truly loving and close friend and responded with compassion—been my friend.

But when I think about the people who were not Jesus’ friends, I’m not so sure. The young ruler, the scribes, the Pharisees. These were conscientious, clean, middle-class, synagogue-going folk. And they weren’t Jesus’ friends. They didn’t need Jesus’ friendship. Or so they thought. Their backgrounds, social standing, faithfulness to status quo religion, education and money all seemed sufficient. They didn’t see the need for one more True Friend, like Jesus.

Still, I wonder if I’m different—may I say, “if we are different”?—only because we live on this side of Easter. We already know about Palm Sunday, Holy Week and Resurrection Sunday, Easter. So, it’s easy to say: “Yeah, sure, I would have been a friend of Jesus. Just look at me now.”

Yet each of us should ask a couple of questions: If I didn’t know what I learned because of Easter, would I have been a friend of Jesus. And more importantly: Do I behave as if I’m a friend of Jesus, anyway?

Jesus provided his followers with a forthright formula for determining if we are his friends. “You are my friends if you do what I command. … This is my command: Love each other” (John 15:14, 17). Sounds simple, doesn’t it? “Love each other.” But how often do we Christians fail to love each other, much less the “hard-line gang” whom Jesus had the compassion to love and serve? We’ve all heard Christians say much-less-than-loving things about and to other Christians. Most of us have said them ourselves. We’ve avoided each other at all cost, when people who love each other want to spend time together. People who love see the loved one’s need and respond to it without being asked. They put the one they love first. People in love want to build up, strengthen and care for the one they love, no matter the personal cost.

If we follow Jesus’ example, we extend that circle of love. Not just to the lovely. Not just to the ones who loved us first. Not just to the ones whose bartered affection benefits us. Not just to the clean and educated and proper. We extend that love to the “hard-line gang,” who don’t even know they need to be loved. Pastor/ missionary/ author Earl Palmer calls this “evangelical ethics.” Jesus’ command to love others doesn’t so much demand that we give up something we own, but that we pass on the treasure that has been give us by Jesus—God’s words, not only expressed in words, but in loving acts of grace, kindness and mercy.

On Palm Sunday, throngs lined the road to praise Jesus as he entered Jerusalem. They appeared to be his friends. By Friday, all but a handful vanished. At Easter, we still cheer for Jesus. However, we demonstrate our friendship and loyalty when we not only say we love Jesus, but also demonstrate our love for each other and his creatures.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at baptiststandard.com.

Texas will suffer if the Legislature slashes one of the most vital educational programs, the Tuition Equalization Grants.

If you’ve ever lived in a farming community, you know the importance of seed. It’s the most valuable 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.

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

Our state is suffering an epic cash drought. Dire dilemmas call for drastic decisions. Unfortunately, some legislators are casting hungry eyes in the wrong direction.

The Tuition Equalization Grant program represents one of Texas’ most valuable and effective silos of educational seed. (If you read about this in my blog, I’m sorry for the redundancy. But this challenge merits the Standard’s print audience.) 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 education of first-generation college students and minorities at those schools.

Universities 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.

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’s population, fostering an air of elitism the schools have worked hard to eliminate.

Second, it would result in 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.

Certainly, 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 just desperate; it’s dumb.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his blog at baptiststandard.com.