Texans have been “treated” to a unique spectacle as we watched the Olympics on TV the past few days.

Yep, you guessed it—presidential campaign ads.

I can’t remember what happened before then, but in 2000 and ’04, Democrats and Republicans alike toted Texas smack-dab in the middle of the “red” column. And so they spent their ad money elsewhere. Why bother with the hearts and minds of citizens in a conservative state whose popular former governor tops the ballot?

But this year, well … . Maybe the presidential spots are national ads capitalizing on the patriotic fervor of the Olympic spirit. Or maybe both candidates think they’ve got a chance at taking Texas this November.

In 2008, presidential politics feels upside down. That’s never truer than when you’re talking about (or, more precisely, they’re talking about) religion. For so long, the Republicans monopolized faith as a political issue. Big-time leaders of the Religious Right acted as if “GOP” stood for “God’s Own Party,” and Democrats did their best to prove it true.

But now, the Communion tray is passing down the other aisle. The Democrat is the one who converses more easily, and often, about his faith. And the Republican is the one who seems uncomfortable when pressed to express his religious beliefs and practices. Although he hails from the liberal United Church of Christ, Barack Obama has spent much of his adult life speaking in and working with progressive African-American churches, where the language of faith is cultural currency. And although John McCain attends a conservative Baptist church with his wife, his Episcopalian reticence to discuss private issues typically trips his tongue when he speaks about spiritual matters.

Still, to get your vote, they’ll appeal to your piety. The most partisan members of both parties are prone to denigrate the others’ faith, particularly as it applies to public policy. Just as some Christians base their votes exclusively on such moral issues as abortion and homosexual activity, others stress the moral nature of environmentalism and justice for the poor. Interestingly, an increasing number of younger Christians seem to be taking a both/and approach to morality and faith, rather than the either/or attitudes of their parents.

Jesus provided two words of advice that can guide Christians through another political season:

• “I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves; so be shrewd as serpents and innocent as doves” (Matthew 10:16). We must be discerning, yet gracious; skeptical, yet not cynical. Too often, Christians get in the political game and adopt its ethics and practices. We must understand them and account for them, but we are accountable to Christ. Our ethics must be measured against his righteousness. We cannot forget this.

• “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s; and to God the things that are God’s” (Matthew 22:21). We cite this quote in discussions about taxes. But we do not dishonor the passage when we apply it to other “things that are Caesar’s and … God’s”—loyalty and hope. As patriots, we should be loyal U.S. citizens, but our only hope lies in God.

Years ago, columnist Cal Thomas illustrated this latter truth. As 12 years of Reagan/Bush leadership concluded, he observed the anger and angsts of conservative Christians, who failed to achieve their moral goals through political processes. They did not fail because politicians they trusted let them down, but because they trusted politics and not God. The only way to change America morally, he advised, was to persuade fellow Americans to behave morally, not legislate them into submission.

Thomas’ wisdom remains true. In this year of politics, discern carefully and vote wisely—graciously understanding fellow Christians may discern differently. Ultimately, however, rest your hope in God, not a president.

–Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Visit his FaithWorks Blog.

If I ever compete in the Olympics … I’ll probably write a book and sell the movie rights about the story of the oldest and worst athlete ever to make a first-time appearance in the world’s most venerated sports event.

But back to my main point: If I ever compete in the Olympics, I’d rather win a bronze medal than a silver.

Bronze medalists just seem happier.

Consider the 2008 U.S. women’s and men’s Olympic gymnastics teams.

One night (actually, it was the next morning where they were, but that’s a whole ’nother story), the men won the bronze. They were ecstatic. They whooped and hollered and high-fived. I went to bed smiling, just thinking about how thrilled they were.

Twenty-four hours later, the women won the silver. Oh, they smiled bravely for the cameras, but they were bitterly disappointed they couldn’t catch the Chinese girls and garnish the gold.

I known, I know—extenuating circumstances.

Before they got to Beijing, the men’s team had been decimated by injuries. Nobody believed this ragtag troupe of flyers and leapers could pull off any kind of run at a medal. They proved the whole world wrong. Around their necks, bronze sparkled brightly.

But the women expected more. After two Chinese girls bobbled on the balance beam, the Americans could taste gold. Then came a great fall off that four-inch plank, plus a fall and out-of-bounds landings on the floor exercises. The Yanks grimaced to keep from crying as the thunder of the Chinese crowd rang in their ears.

All this proves my point. In most cases—with the possible exception of everyone in the pool with Michael Phelps—athletes who receive silver expect to win gold. In their minds, they replay tapes of infinitesimal mistakes that cost them time or points, as well as golden glory. And they focus on what they lost, not what they won. Bronze medalists, on the other hand, usually seem tickled just to be up there with the big guns. I’m guessing they check out of the Olympic Village with the sweetest memories.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a high-expectation person. In fact, the people who know me best—like my family and closest friends—would tell you that’s a major character flaw. That’s because the drive to achieve and succeed often undermines appreciation of achievement and success.

While gold-medal-winners glow in the limelight, they must wonder if they can keep it up. And silver-winners winnow the what-ifs. But bronzers seem to enjoy the moment.

This reminds me of recognizing God’s grace. When that realization of divine blessing arrives, you don’t have to worry about earning it or fret over who has it.

You exult in a deep measure of joy.

Texas Hope 2010 must be our compulsion. By Resurrection Sunday 2010, every person in Texas needs to have had the opportunity to respond to the hope of Christ within their own language and context. Through prayer, share and care, we must make sure everyone hears the hope of Christ and everyone has a nutritional meal every day.

Church members may ask why they should support the Cooperative Program through the BGCT when money could go further if given directly to international ministries. But the big picture of Texas Baptists reminds us of the great heritage and promising future when our churches work together in kingdom opportunities.

The resources God has entrusted to Texas Baptists may be unprecedented. We have about 5,600 churches, with more than 2 million members. On an average Sunday, about a million people worship in our congregations. The BGCT family includes nine universities with more than 35,000 students. About 4,500 of them are considering vocational Christian ministry. We have around 120 Baptist Student Ministry workers serving on almost every college campus in Texas.

The five BGCT hospitals/healthcare systems offer more than $1 million per day in charity care. Our human care institutions provide for hundreds of thousands of children, single moms, mentally handicapped and elderly every year.

Texas Baptist Men responds to every disaster in our state and others throughout our nation and world. They were present at the recent hurricanes that struck Texas, floods in the Midwest and the earthquake in China. They were serving meals and providing showers, washers and dryers for the children who were brought out of the polygamist compound in Eldorado.

The BGCT does not own any of these institutions. In many cases, the money channeled through them is a small part of their total budget. However, the BGCT is the only denomination providing financial support and the only one that elects representatives to their governing boards. Many of the students and donors of these institutions are from our Texas Baptist churches, and additional money is raised for them through the Texas Baptist Missions Foundation.

Hundreds of churches are started in dozens of languages and locations throughout our state. The exciting and fast-growing western heritage church movement was born and sustained significantly with the help of the BGCT and the Texas Fellowship of Cowboy Churches.

But we have only begun to touch the needs of Texas. Two of the four poorest counties and 12 of the 25 poorest counties in the country are in our state. Almost 4 million Texans live below the poverty level; 2.6 million experience shortages of food; 1 million face hunger.

In the year 2000, 11.3 million folks in Texas were listed as unchurched. Only one in five attends church on an average Sunday. When we have been given so much, how can there be this many who do not know Christ or so many who have too little to eat? I challenge each of our churches to commit to Texas Hope 2010. Let’s begin by praying every day at noon for the hungry and lost in Texas.

Randel Everett is executive director of the Baptist General Convention of Texas Executive Board.

I’ve been reading a lot about whether it is right or wrong to applaud in church. Is this just a cultural issue, or is there something deeper?

The preaching of John Chrysostom 1,600 years ago troubled people of nobility but was cheered by the masses. Chrysostom’s sermons often were interrupted by applause. On one occasion, he urged to his congregation to discontinue the practice. The worshippers, moved by his appeal, applauded!

A case can be made in favor of applause.

First, our spiritual ancestors brought their hands together to make noisy praise to God. “Clap your hands, all you peoples; shout to God with loud songs of joy” (Psalm 47:1). This imperative suggests ancient Israel invited clapping as a regular worship practice.

Second, healthy worship is dynamic. It is an opportunity to employ all our senses as a response to the grandeur and grace of God. Applause adds sound to worship. It stimulates our aural sense.

Third, applause is the primary way groups in our culture express affirmation and agreement. Applause is to some worshippers what a chorus of “amens” is to others. It allows the congregation to participate in worship and announces the congregation agrees with the substance of what is read, said or sung.

A case also can be made against the use of applause in worship.

First, clapping cheapens worship when it becomes a habitual or rote mimic of our popular culture. Worship is a sacred gathering, the dedication of time for holy purposes. To interject regular applause into worship suggests Christians cannot set apart space and time for the holy without a kneejerk nod to our popular culture.

Second, applause is the method American audiences use to evaluate a performance. The repetitive practice of clapping for a well-sung solo or articulate personal testimony may suggest worship is a performance.

When our Sunday services are driven by practices such as applause, it is easy for the congregation to become the audience and worship leaders to become performers. When worship is at its best, the people in the pews are the actors and God is the audience.

Third, applause is not the only way to respond to what happens in a worship service. A more appropriate way to express gratitude for a skillfully rendered choral anthem or clear declaration of the gospel may be silence, not applause. Silence may capture the profound presence of a holy God better than putting our hands together. “The Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before him” (Habakkuk 2:20).

Applause in worship is not wrong. Neither is applause always right. Worship can never be stripped of cultural practices, but always they should add meaning to our efforts to honor God.

Michael Clingenpeel, pastor

River Road Church, Baptist

Richmond, Va.

Right or Wrong? is sponsored by the T.B. Maston Chair of Christian Ethics at Hardin-Simmons University’s Logsdon School of Theology. Send your questions about how to apply your faith to btillman@hsutx.edu .

“I heard myself saying a lot: ‘God, you can't ask this of me. You can’t ask this of my family. This is too much. We can’t do this.’”

Steven Curtis Chapman

Christian singer/songwriter, speaking about his initial reaction to the death of his youngest daughter, Maria, who died in his family’s driveway after being struck by a vehicle driven by her older brother (Larry King Live/RNS)

“If this denomination doesn’t get desperate for God’s Son and a movement of the Holy Ghost of God in our denomination again, we’re in trouble. … Attendance at the recent (Southern Baptist) convention in Indianapolis dropped 20 percent. You can’t do that very often and not be in serious trouble.”

Johnny Hunt

Southern Baptist Convention president, addressing the annual summer leadership meeting of the North American Mission Board (RNS)

“Much of the white evangelical opposition to Mr. Romney is not based on principle. It is simply old-fashioned bigotry—a discomfort with Mr. Romney’s Mormon faith. White evangelicals need to be reminded that this is America—a republic where neither religious convictions nor the lack thereof disqualifies a politician from office.”

The Washington Times

An editorial, noting white evangelicals’ preference for former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee, a Baptist, as a running mate for Sen. John McCain rather than former Massachusetts Gov. Mitt Romney (RNS)

“Just as we promise to seek to move beyond the stereotyping of Muslims found in the media, can I ask you, my Muslim friends, to get to know us beyond what is reported in the newspapers and television programs?”

Geoff Tunnicliffe

International director of the World Evangelical Alliance, discussing a meeting of Muslim and Christian scholars (Reuters/RNS)

Now Baylor University’s regents have wounded a second president (Aug. 4 )!

The editorial, “Baylor future rests in regents’ hands,” covers so well what has been hurting inside this Baylor grad for several years. It is “must reading” for regents, faculty and alums.

Regents: The buck not only stops with you, but positive leadership begins with you. Get with it!

Faculty: Some dissidents in your ranks need to concentrate on teaching and research and do something to update those yellowed teaching notes. Be another A.J. Armstrong!

Alumni leadership: Quit worrying about transparency for the administration! Support our students with your kind words, openness, cooperation and prayers.

Students: As soon as all the prima donnas have their egos assuaged, Baylor will continue with its growth as an outstanding major Christian research university. Just hang in there!

Joe Novak

Rynell S. Novak

Denton

Good Thursday?

In a recent Bible study, I read a prophecy Jesus made to Pharisees who asked for a sign of his deity. Jesus replied, “No sign will be given but the sign of ‘Jonah the Prophet.’  For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the whale, so will the son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth” (Matthew 12:38-40).

We know Jesus was resurrected on a Sunday morning after spending three nights in the tomb; that was his prophecy. Those nights had to be Saturday, Friday and Thursday nights. Thus, Jesus could not have been crucified and buried on a Friday, because he was already in the tomb on a Thursday night.

I am not proposing we change our Good Friday services to Thursday. However, it is important to know that Jesus’ prophecy of his time in the grave was precisely what he said it to be.

Dan Keeney

San Angelo

What do you think? Send letters to Editor Marv Knox by mail: P.O. Box 660267, Dallas 75266-0267; or by e-mail: marvknox@baptiststandard.com.

Paul Stripling, interim executive director of missions for the Waco Regional Baptist Network, knows firsthand the anxiety associated with not being able to read. When his parents moved the family during his elementary years, he fell behind in reading. He remembers that embarrassment. Sue Bennett, a teacher in Gladewater, offered to tutor him. Her efforts yielded success and thank-you notes from Paul upon high school and subsequent graduations. The world is a better place because of Sue Bennett and Paul Stripling.

Your own participation in this conversation—otherwise known as reading—is no accident. Your ability to read marks the intersection of your learning and someone’s teaching (likely more than one). Not everyone in Texas is so fortunate. In the Lone Star State, more than 3.2 million adults 25 and older lack a high school diploma; another 6 million people have marginal skills in spoken English. According to the U.S. Department of Education, Texas ranks 47th in literacy. But the glass is half full—really.

Nationally, 45 percent of the adult population, or 93 million people, have limited reading, writing and math skills. Thirty million of these have below-basic skills; 11 million of these do not speak English. According to the National Assessment of Adult Literacy, literacy levels in our country did not significantly improve between 1992 and 2003. Strains on funding of adult education and an increase in immigrant populations with no corresponding increase in services are just two reasons for a continued demise in literacy.

Illiteracy a problem for all 

Lack of literacy skills is a problem not just for the people who can’t read or read well. Their struggles affect their families, friends, neighbors and co-workers. Lack of literacy skills limits employment opportunities, influences politics and threatens health. Consider the plight of people who cannot read medicine labels or use a computer to complete a job application. Recognize the greatest predictor of the educational capacity of the next generation is the literacy of parents of school-age children.

Just thinking about literacy statistics is heavy. Can’t something be done? Don’t we have an adult education system?

In Texas, we spend less than $7 million annually on adult education. This figure sounds like a lot unless you compare it with what we spend just advertising the lottery at $23 million-plus. California spends more than $640 million on adult education. In Florida, the number is $294 million. And in New York, $66 million. Embarrassing isn’t it? And for this investment—the lowest as compared with other states—we help just over 102,000 adult students annually. Depressing, eh?

According to the 2000 census, 75 percent of adults in Texas age 25 and older have a high school diploma. Of course, this means one in four adults in Texas does not have a high school diploma. Not everyone who has not completed high school lacks literacy skills. But not everyone who has a diploma is up to the rigors of today’s techno-print society, either.

Giving back 

I am tutoring a high school graduate who sought help with reading and writing. He is one of those among us who would not feel comfortable reading aloud in public or writing a paragraph describing a workplace accident. A general correspondence exists between the number of people in a given geography without high school diplomas and the number of people in that area in need of literacy help. These are not necessarily the same people, but approximately the same number of people.

Changing the literacy landscape in our state is a complex equation. Increasing the amount of money spent on adult education is an important variable in that equation. Literacy Texas is working with the Texas Baptist Christian Life Commission to encourage our legislators to significantly increase funding in adult education in Texas. But even if we began to spend more on adult education than on advertising the lottery, we probably still would serve just a fraction of the need—less than 10 percent.

Back to the water glass. Just over 23 percent of adults 25 and older in Texas have a college diploma—roughly the same percentage as those without a high school diploma. The glass, then, may be seen as half full. We can define the literacy problem in terms of need or in terms of assets. I choose the latter.

Local congregations can fuel the change. In the 1800s, Sunday school was begun in England—not to teach the Bible initially, but to teach street children who worked during the week how to read and write. There are many ways local congregations can impact their communities in literacy and education.

Almost a century ago, Frank Laubach launched the volunteer literacy movement with the slogan, “Each one, teach one.” Just imagine the impact in our state if each one with a college degree gave back the gift of literacy—just one time. Children need books. Youth need mentors. Adults need classes in English as a second language. Many in all categories need one-to-one tutoring. You, too, can make a difference.

The future of Texas depends on it.

Lester Meriwether directs Literacy ConneXus and recently was elected president of Literacy Texas, the state literacy coalition. He is a member of Western Hills Baptist Church in Fort Worth.

Baylor University counts 100,000 living alumni. Add to their ranks many more Texas Baptists who love their flagship institution and Texans who understand the school’s importance to the Southwest, as well as faculty and staff, plus 14,000 students. The “Baylor family” is enormous.

But the fate of Baylor University rests in the hands—and, more significantly, the hearts and minds—of just 21 people.

Baylor will rise or fall according to how the board of regents leads. Regents just fired President John Lilley for failing to “bring the Baylor family together.” No new president can direct the Baylor dissonance until the board orchestrates harmony. Bringing the Baylor family back together should be Job 1, because nothing else will matter if Baylor tears itself apart.

Any telling of the family tale omits some details, but here’s the short version of Baylor’s current calamity: The family dysfunction became painfully and publicly obvious during the administration of former President Robert Sloan and implementation of the Baylor 2012 long-range strategy adopted on his watch. As one insider noted: “There was no middle ground with Robert. You either loved him or hated him.” Ditto for 2012. The regents divided over Sloan and 2012, and the rest of the family went and did likewise.

Dysfunction took on a life of its own 

After Sloan’s departure three years ago, Baylor remained divided. Even casual observers could peg regents, faculty and active alumni as pro-Sloan/2012 or anti-Sloan/2012, or at least against the way 2012 was implemented. Lilley’s supporters and detractors can debate his strengths and weaknesses, but the fact is that by the time he arrived, the dysfunction had taken a life of its own. The new normal for the Baylor family is discord and division. (Thank goodness, the least-affected constituency is the student body.)

Now, the presidency is vacant again, and the focus for restoring healthy function to the Baylor family is back on the only people who can do the job—the regents.

Reportedly, they’re getting along better. Critics say that’s simply because one group outlasted another, and the voices of loyal opposition to 2012 have rotated off the board. Advocates say the board has grown closer together through two difficult presidencies. But the board’s ability to agree on something in a closed room is beside the point. Actually, it illustrates the point—they could celebrate the Lord’s Supper and sing “Blessed be the Tie” until Jesus comes back, but if they don’t get out and actively lead Baylor toward harmony and restoration, they’re failing Baylor.

Closed door needs to open 

The symbol of their meetings—a closed door—is a good place to start. They should open it. Obviously, legal contracts and some personnel situations need to be handled in private. But if Baylor is going to get better, then the regents need to lift the shroud of secrecy. They can start with their meetings.

But they must not stop there. The regents need to sponsor meaningful, respectful discussions among the entire Baylor family—about the future, about key issues that have caused division, about heritage and aspirations, about prospects for being the kind of school they can revere and look to with pride. They need to involve alumni, faculty, staff and students, but also donors, Texas Baptists and others from the state and community. Recent efforts to reach out to the Baylor Alumni Association and the Faculty Senate are a solid start.

Also, before another president arrives, Baylor needs to draft a new vision document. Baylor 2012 has served its purpose. This will take considerable time and effort, but Baylor won’t come together until it can share a vision that affirms, honors and embraces the whole family.

That’s a big task and difficult. But the regents should be up to it. They’ve been given Texas Baptists’ most prestigious trusteeship. They’re smart, successful leaders. They must lead Baylor to unity. It’s not just their job; it’s their duty.

What is at the heart of Texas’ Baptists? What makes us unique? What makes us strong?

We typically think of our size, our institutions or even our leaders when we attempt to answer these questions. However, last Saturday I began to realize there is another answer: Juanice DuBose.

You may not know Juanice unless you live in Gonzales. I met her more than 30 years ago, when she showed up as a member of a pulpit committee from First Baptist Church. Sheila and I recently visited her in a nursing home in Gonzales, where she is bravely fighting a terminal illness.

Juanice has spent her whole life as a Texas Baptist, active in First Baptist Gonzales for most of that time. Her mother was the librarian of the church, and she was the reason the church had one of the finest libraries in the county. Mrs. Davis read all the books and marked through any word or expression that didn’t belong in a church library.

Juanice always has been bright. When she asked her mom the meaning of a word, her mother would make her look it up. That created a lifelong interest in vocabulary and reading. It also prepared her for a vocation as a public school teacher. Her thirst for knowledge was evident in her Christian pilgrimage. She was a student of the Bible, constantly learning and teaching. Juanice was one of those church members who made a pastor desire to study and preach.

Juanice is a Texan in the true sense of the word. She is strong, independent, proud and opinionated, yet she also is sensitive, encouraging and loving. She is no stranger to adversity. She has struggled with cancer before, experienced the grief of the loss of parents and spouse, and has faced the usual challenges and joys of being a mother and a grandmother. When I asked her how I could pray for her, her desires were not for herself but for her family.

Juanice, and thousands like her, make Texas Baptists great. She has been a faithful part of her church more than 80 years. Pastors have come and gone. The county has had its ups and downs. The church, and the BGCT, have fussed and healed. Ecclesiastical trends have burst onto the scene and then fizzled. But Juanice and many from her generation have stood strong.

They have been unwavering on the lordship of Christ, the authority of the Bible, the autonomy of the local church and the mission of the church. They have been faithful in their attendance, giving and leadership. They have lived a life devoted to prayer and service.

Juanice and the committee from First Baptist took a big risk on recommending me, as a 25-year-old, as their pastor. They had plenty of times to doubt their decision. Yet they loved me and my family, prayed for us, counseled us, encouraged us and became our family.

We have wonderful institutions and churches, colorful and able leaders, but Juanice and those like her are the heart of Texas Baptists.

Randel Everett is executive director of the Baptist General Convention of Texas Executive Board.

For years, Joanna has had an odometer to pick with me about my driving.

I go way too fast. And I don’t slow down soon enough when a light 3.7 miles away turns red. And I accelerate too quickly.

Now, to be fair, she likes some aspects of my driving. Like how I use my blinkers before I change lanes and, uh, I’m trying to think here. … I turn on my lights when it gets dark. Oh, yeah, and now I’ll stop and ask directions when I get lost. … Well, that’s about it.

She thinks I drive too fast, and if you’re going too fast, no amount of peripheral driving etiquette can compensate.

In my defense, I blame Texas. Not the whole state, mind you, but the size of the state. It’s just so dad-blamed big. Even the cities are big. When everything is so spread out, getting from Point A to Point B takes too long. So, I speed up.

I've slowed down 

But—ta-da!—I’ve slowed down.

Credit the price of gas. Apparently, a nerve runs from the left side of my hind-end to my right foot. Because my wallet bit me on the you-know-what, and I slowed down.

Instead of measuring how long it takes to get to work, I now take pride in how far I can go on a tank of gas. I’ve got a new-to-me car that gets 27 miles per gallon in the city and 32 to 33 MPG on the highway. Not too bad for a vehicle that (a) you don’t have to pedal, (b) doesn’t look like something circus clowns climb out of and (c) won’t pop like a Dr Pepper can if an SUV rams it.

And—this is the part Jo really likes—I now drive the speed limit.

This is a disconcerting phenomenon. Because, except for apparent illegal immigrants and a few folks who should’ve turned in their driver’s licenses a decade ago, I’m the only one.

Trying a new technique

The first day I tried this new technique, I reached the speed limit and set my cruise control.

Then I had to look at the landscape to make sure I wasn’t driving in reverse. What a wild ride.

See, driving the speed limit is a lot scarier than zipping along with the flow about 10 miles per hour faster. Every other car and truck on the road came up on me so fast, I thought I’d get to work with a Ford F-150 in my trunk or a Toyota Camry on my roof.

But at least I’m doing my bit to drive down the price of your gas. Apparently, it’s a supply-and-demand deal. At least that’s how they’re explaining the fact we’re not spending every bit of $4 per gallon anymore.

Some people don’t like folks who drive the speed limit, but at least I’m not one of the ones over in the left lane, stacking traffic up to the Oklahoma state line.

Still, I thought about putting a “Honk if you love Jesus” bumper sticker on my car, but as fast as everybody’s passing me, nobody could read it.

“I tend to hold to a relatively young-earth position, which means I would believe that dinosaurs were created on the sixth day of creation, which I believe was a 24-hour day in the relatively recent past, and so that means you would have had dinosaurs and human beings existing at least at the same time.”

Russell Moore

Dean of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary’s School of Theology (The Albert Mohler Radio Program/ ethicsdaily.com)

“From a political standpoint, why would they let go an evangelical, Hispanic veteran? I represent three major voting groups.”

David Iglesias

Former U.S. attorney from New Mexico, writing in his new book, In Justice: Inside the Scandal that Rocked the Bush Administration, about the Justice Department's decision to fire seven U.S. attorneys—including himself—in one day. (dallasnews.com/RNS)

On windy summer days, I can’t help but recall cherished childhood memories of kite flying. It’s probably been awhile since most of us have flown a kite. (And it would, no doubt, do all of us a whole lot of good to do some “childish” things like kite flying every now and then!) There’s no doubt about it, kite flying is fun, if not a little frustrating at times. There really is something magical, mystical and even therapeutic about launching a kite and seeing it soar to the heights. As the wind carries it ever upward, the kite seems to come alive with a dance of amazing freedom, spontaneity and creativity.

One lesson you quickly learn in kite flying, however, is that all of that seemingly free, spontaneous, and creative expression is only possible as long as the kite stays securely attached to that kite string, and as long as that kite string stays well-grasped in the hand of the kite flyer.

In many ways, our worship is a little like kite flying. As the uplifting winds of the Holy Spirit take us up to the heights of praise and celebration, we experience tremendous freedom, spontaneity and creativity. But this wonderful freedom in worship can only be appropriately expressed as long as there’s a string that connects us to the Guiding Hand who launches us.

A string of commonality

With all the unending debates about “worship wars,” can we not find some string of commonality in worship that will transcend all the styles? Are there not some grounding principles that can unify all the paradigms?

Gordon Lanthrop, in Holy People: A Liturgical Ecclesiology, outlines some of the commonly held historical and biblical traditions in the worshipping life of the early church. He refers to these “central things” in worship as “book, bath and meal.” These labels refer to the central role of the Bible, baptism and the Lord’s Supper in the life and worship of the early church. To these three Lanthrop adds a fourth, “attentiveness to the poor.” Early worshippers brought alms to their worship that would be distributed to the poor. Bread and wine for the Eucharist celebration would be brought from their own tables. Leftover elements would likewise be given to those who were in need.

Maybe the real question regarding worship today is not about the style of worship. Maybe it’s really not about the particular music preferences of the people. Perhaps the crucial, transcending and uniting question for all worshippers is this: Does worship include a focus on book, bath, meal and appropriate ministries of response like attentiveness to the poor? Maybe these are the common strings that ought to ground all of our worship today. Maybe these are the central things that will set all worship kites flying with great freedom, spontaneity and creativity, but always anchored to some very valuable and much-needed biblical and historical traditions.

Always anchored

Book, bath, meal and attentiveness to the poor ought to remind all of us that our songs and sermons in worship should always reflect a strong, clear—and clearly understood—scriptural basis.

Baptism, however often it is done, should be a true act of worship and given the central focus in worship it once had. Perhaps a little more teaching to candidate and congregation, both before and after baptismal observances, might be in order. How many times have we found baptism placed as some kind of prelude to the service, or simply tacked-on to the end?

Maybe the Lord’s Supper needs to be taken with a little more regularity by us as Baptists, and certainly with a lot more creativity, reverence and spiritual focus. The meal definitely needs to be returned to its once-prominent position as the heart of the worship, not an addendum.

And our people, regardless of the how of their worship, most definitely need to be challenged to the do of their worship, a doing response to worship that is reflected in such passions as a greater attentiveness to the poor and needy.

May our kite-flying worship continue to be filled with the winds of freedom, variety and diversity. But may it be done with a string that binds us, a string that anchors us, a string with which the Great Kite Flyer himself, and he alone, ever guides us to greater heights of true and meaningful worship.

Jim Lemons is director of the master of arts in worship leadership program at Dallas Baptist University.