WASHINGTON (RNS)—As the world’s powers grasped for a last-minute resolution to the crisis in Syria, it remained an open question whether any amount of diplomacy could prevent the conflict from claiming at least one more victim—the classic Christian teaching known as the “just war” tradition.

Not that the just war doctrine is being dismissed or condemned. Rather, it is loved too much. Indeed, both sides in the debate over punishing the Syrian regime for using chemical weapons cite just war theory but reach diametrically opposed conclusions.

20th-century theologian Reinhold Niebuhr used just war doctrine as a framework for his notion of “Christian realism”—a tradition President Obama often relies on.Nicholas Hahn III, a Catholic writer, wrote in the conservative journal First Things that “a classical reading of the just war tradition renders robust intervention in Syria a morally desirable act of charity.”

At the same time, the Catholic editor of that same magazine, R.R. Reno, has written forcefully against intervention and even labeled the administration’s arguments for military strikes “morally sloppy.”

A similar contrast could be found at the liberal National Catholic Reporter, which published an editorial blasting “the bankruptcy of the military strike idea.”

That in turn drew a sharp rejoinder from one of its own columnists, Michael Sean Winters, who said the publication’s position was based on “myths” that have muddled clear moral thinking on the Catholic left.

“When Congress votes … on the authorization of force, if they do not support President Obama they are, de facto, supporting (Syrian) President Assad,” wrote Winters, calling Assad an “evil man.”

And so it goes, with the divides seeming to grow wider by the day. The splits are most obvious within the Catholic Church, which over the centuries developed the most clearly articulated just war doctrine. But Protestants of varying hues also cite just war principles and reach starkly different conclusions.

“The friends of the just war idea are sometimes worse than its foes,” said James Turner Johnson, a professor of religious ethics at Rutgers University and a leading expert on just war theory.

‘Violence in a limited way’

Augustine first articulated just war doctrine in the fifth century to provide a moral rationale that, as Duke University theologian Stanley Hauerwas put it, “enables Christians to use violence in a limited way to secure tolerable order.”

Eight centuries later, the systematic theologian Thomas Aquinas elaborated the basic principles of the theory that continue to be invoked by both religious and secular moralists.

Duke University theologian Stanley Hauerwas, a leading exponent of Christian pacifism.Protestant reformer Martin Luther embraced just war doctrine, and 20th-century theologian Reinhold Niebuhr used it as a framework for his notion of “Christian realism”—a tradition President Obama often relies on.

Today, different sources render the just war formula in slightly different ways, but the basic conditions of the doctrine remain the same:

• To justify military action there must be a “just cause,” such as self-defense or protecting innocent life, and a “just authority”—a legitimate, sovereign entity—to wage the war.

• The warring power must have a “right intention”—doing the right thing for the right reason, rather than for revenge or personal gain.

• The decision to go to war must be a last resort, and there must be a “probability of success” in achieving a clearly articulated outcome.

• There must be a commitment to “proportionality” in conducting the war—inflicting the least amount of harm necessary to secure peace and avoiding violence against noncombatants, or what we today call “collateral damage.”

Given the number of conditions and the complexity of the Syrian civil war, it is not surprising commentators reach different conclusions or grind their teeth in frustration over the high bar of meeting all the just war conditions while arguing that doing nothing is not a good moral option.

Yet several other factors complicate the usual moral calculus and threaten to undermine just war theory itself.

Complicating factors

Some leading Christian voices increasingly have moved toward a de facto pacifism that stands against war under any circumstance.

“In contrast to pacifism, it is often assumed that just war reflection is ‘realistic,’” Hauerwas, a leading exponent of Christian pacifism, wrote this month.

Thomas Aquinas elaborated the basic principles of just war theory that continue to be invoked by both religious and secular moralists. (Image: The Triumph of St. Thomas Aquinas over Averroes by Benozzo Gozzoli (1420–1497), The Louvre).“It is by no means clear, however, if advocates of just war have provided an adequate account of what kind of conditions are necessary for just war to be a realistic alternative for the military policy of a nation.”

The Catholic hierarchy in recent years also seemed to migrate in the pacifist direction, an evolution highlighted by Pope Francis’ high-profile campaign against any military action in Syria.

“The sweeping language of such criticism by the pontiff moves the Roman Catholic Church dramatically further in what now seems to be an accelerating arc in its opposition to warfare,” Catholic University’s Stephen Schneck wrote in The Washington Post.

‘Just peacemaking’

The problem with that shift is twofold. First, it supplants traditional just war doctrine with the relatively new concept of “just peacemaking,” which is not as clearly articulated nor as readily applicable to real-world circumstances, in the view of some analysts.

Second, many anti-war Christians also have embraced the emerging principle of the “Responsibility to Protect,” which cites an imperative to intervene to protect innocents in harm’s way. But even that can put moralists in a bind because it demands something be done to thwart violence even if all the classic just war conditions are not met.

Critics say conservatives also contributed to the confusion by overemphasizing the notion of “pre-emption” as a form of self-defense—the principle used to justify the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq in 2003, an action analysts claim violated most every other just war condition.

In addition, some who cited just war theory in supporting President George W. Bush’s push to invade Iraq now invoke just war theory to oppose President Obama’s plans for more limited actions against Syria—an apparent contradiction that does just war theory no favors.

‘Chaotic just war discourse’

The upshot is a “chaotic just war discourse,” as Johnson put it, that leaves even its champions wondering “whether the success of just war reasoning hasn’t in fact been very problematic for it.”

Yet Johnson also sees no real alternative. Just war is now an integral part of Western culture and can provide the best framework for working through the thorniest moral dilemmas.

“For me, the question is how you use these ideas once you pull them out and deploy them,” he said. “I just think there’s a tremendous amount of confusion in the current debate.”

Fifty years zips by in a hurry, doesn’t it? Well, yes and no. In some ways, 1963 seems like only moments ago. In others, it feels like eons.

To be quite honest, many bygone years have dissolved into a milky blur. I couldn’t tell you precisely if Event A happened in Year X or Year Y, or if Event B occurred in the spring or fall of Year Z.

But I remember some parts of 1963 quite clearly.

Only 6 years old

I recall black-and-white news reports of the March on Washington, which took place in late August. I was only 6 years old at the time and couldn’t grasp the social and historic importance of the moment. But I guess I remember the march for a couple of reasons.

First, I lived in Dalhart, home to 5,000 or 6,000 folks. When I heard maybe 200,000 people attended the march and assembled on the National Mall, that blew my little mind.

And second, the keynote speaker was Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., not only a Baptist preacher, but a Baptist preacher’s son. My daddy was a Baptist preacher (and still is), so I figured we had a lot in common. And he got to speak to 200,000 people.

1963 also was the year I started first grade—five decades ago last week, to be exact. Back then, kindergarten was not universal, and due to space limitations, I didn’t go to kindergarten in the fall of 1962. So, I started school in 1963.

My sister Martha

That was a big day for our family. The inauguration of my academic pursuits lagged behind what happened with my sister.

Martha was two years younger than I, and she was born with several physical problems, including deafness. Back in those days, deaf education had not been incorporated into the public schools. Mother and Daddy faced limited options for Martha’s education, and until that education began, she could not speak, much less read and write. They enrolled her in Jane Brooks School for the Deaf in Chickasha, Okla., 320 miles away.

So, the day I carried my pencils and crayons into a first-grade classroom, Mother and Daddy loaded their precious 4-year-old daughter into the family sedan and moved her to a boarding school in another state. Although parenting has presented me with myriad experiences, I can’t begin to comprehend how Mother’s and Daddy’s hearts broke that day.

Later that fall, President John F. Kennedy died, the victim of an assassin’s bullets, down in Dallas. I remember my first-grade teacher, Mrs. Harbart, looked ashen as she stood before our class and said: “I have some horrible news. President Kennedy has been killed today.”

Sad and lonely images

That horrific event sent more sad and lonely pictures into our home—Lyndon Johnson’s gaunt face as he took the oath of office on Air Force One; the president’s coffin lying in state in the Capitol rotunda; a riderless horse, with boots backward in the stirrups; little John-John saluting his father’s casket; Jackie Kennedy’s searing grief.

Even a child knows when the tides of history shift.

The year ended on a much brighter note. Key Heights Baptist Church in Perryton, a mission planted by First Baptist Church there, called my daddy as their first pastor. We moved to the parsonage right around Christmas. We lived there the next 10 years, and it’s still the place I call home when people ask me where I’m from.

God in every moment

Well, I don’t really know why I’ve told you all this. Except maybe to say you never know when you’ll find yourself surrounded by moments that change the nation or at least change you. God is with us in the mundane, day-to-dayness of life. And so God already is present when the big events overwhelm a person, a family or a nation.

God inspired Dr. King and gave him a dream for all people in all times. God comforted our family when Martha moved off to school and calmed me when I started first grade. God stilled a nation and walked her through grief for a young president gone too soon. And God guided our little family to a new home and a community that embraced us with love and care.

Whatever you’re facing today, that same God abides with you, closer than your next breath.

Hello, Texas Baptists! I begin by thanking Director of Missions Bob Dean and his staff at Dallas Baptist Association for their partnership with Texas Baptists in providing school uniforms and, in the near future, an outdoor classroom for the 1,100 students at George W. Truett Elementary School in East Dallas. This has been a wonderful work together, doing missions in our own back yard.

David HardageThanks to Charles Inman, pastor of First Baptist Church in Monahans, for allowing me to preach in their Sunday morning service recently. This is Charles’ second time to serve as pastor at First Baptist in Monahans and, again, he is doing great work. As an interesting aside—at least to me—one of the members there is a young lady who, when she was about 5 years old, was a member of the church where I was pastor in Holliday. I was blessed by the reunion!

James Waskom has been pastor of First Baptist Church in Wickett six years, and this church served as host for the missions fellowship of Pecos Valley Baptist Association, where Richard Ray serves as director of missions. I thoroughly enjoyed the excellent dinner and was delighted to share with the association about our good Baptist General Convention of Texas work. You should know Richard Ray also serves as pastor of First Baptist Church in Wink and leads our BGCT Smaller Membership Church and Bivocational Pastor Fellowship. He’s a blessing to work with in all these roles. And he sings quite well, too!

I enjoyed speaking to the council members of our Texas Baptist Missions Foundation. They gathered for their regular meeting at Cornerstone Baptist Church in Dallas where Chris Simmons serves as pastor. Our own Gerald Davis is a member there. And, of course, Bill Arnold continues to lead the TBMF as he has for 30 years.

Hulitt Gloer, Truett Seminary professor and interim pastor at Columbus Avenue Baptist Church in Waco, was so kind to invite me to preach at the church on the Sunday of Labor Day weekend. He’ll complete his work there soon, when Josh Vaughn, associate pastor of First Baptist Church in San Antonio, begins his work as pastor Sept. 16. I love Columbus Avenue Baptist and still count as one of my great ministry blessings the privilege of having served as their interim pastor a few years ago.

Finally, please know you always are welcome to stop by your Baptist Building for a visit. We’d even love to host your church staff for a planning retreat, etc. Just give us a call, and we’ll do our best to accommodate. That’s it for now. More next time. God bless.

–David Hardage is executive director of the Baptist General Convention of Texas Executive Board.

Hello, Texas Baptists! The summer of 2013 is almost behind us, and I know for many it was a positive, life-changing summer.

David HardageI want to thank those of you who helped financially and spiritually support the work of our Baptist Student Ministries summer missionaries. They have served the Lord and Texas Baptists well. Now, join me in praying that this good work on our Texas college and university campuses continues strong during this fall semester.

I recently had the privilege of attending a gathering of the Korean Baptist Fellowship of Texas in Fort Worth. It was a delightful evening full of good food, great fellowship and powerful worship. I thank our own Patty Lane, director of intercultural ministry, for working so diligently with all of our wonderful cross-cultural communities and churches.

Congratulations to Steve Vernon, the associate executive director of the BGCT, for being awarded an honorary doctorate at the summer commencement at Dallas Baptist University. And speaking at this commencement ceremony was a former BGCT president, David Lowrie, senior pastor of First Baptist Church of El Paso. I appreciate President Gary Cook and DBU for honoring Steve Vernon.

I enjoyed my Sunday morning at First Baptist Church of Cuero recently. Pastor Glenn Robinson has now served there faithfully 20 years. Cuero is really in the “sweet spot” of the South Texas oil and gas boom, so let’s pray that this great church can continue responding to the growth of their community.

It was my honor to preach in the Sunday morning worship service of Richardson Vietnamese Baptist Church. They are meeting in the gymnasium of Arapaho Road Baptist Church but are looking to purchase their first facility. Pastor Chuyen Tran has served there since 2000. He was baptized in a creek in the Philippines in 1984. This great church is doing good work, and I ask you to pray for them as you read this column.

Finally, congratulations to my mother, Johnnie Hardage, a proud Hardin-Simmons University  alum, on her 80th birthday celebration. My two brothers and my sister surprised her with a party. It was a great time!

More next time.

David Hardage is executive director of the Baptist General Convention of Texas Executive Board.

I’ve been diagnosed with a chronic, debilitating illness, and I’ve received two pieces of advice: “Suffering builds character.” And “learn to comfort as you have been comforted.” So, what is the relationship between character development and chronic illness?

Your two pieces of advice certainly find their origins in Scripture. However, as with all such biblically based instruction, we must be careful in applying these truths to be sure they build up, rather than tear down, the spirit within a suffering body.

The Apostle Paul writes in Romans: “Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope” (Romans 5:3-4). Following the linear relationship that Paul develops, it is the perseverance of the suffering that actually produces the character. Certainly, living the journey with a chronic illness challenges, yet it also can confirm such character traits as trust, patience, selflessness, humility and the like. Remember, it is the persevering that may bring these qualities to the surface. Perseverance usually takes time.

The second admonition is somewhat more complicated. Indeed, Paul writes to the Corinthians: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).

Empathy

Perhaps one of the most positive outcomes of such an illness is the empathy that may develop toward others, particularly those living with similar conditions. However, just as in the case of the Romans passage, these words come with a potential for misunderstanding. We must be careful that we do not interpret Paul’s words to mean: “Been there, done that.”

This oft-repeated phrase minimizes the other person’s suffering far more than it comforts them. Unfortunately, that all-too-common response will direct attention away from the one who is hurting and refocus it on the past experience of the speaker. Instead, we are called to comfort in the same way that God comforts us, through intense listening in love. Only by our presence and our intentional attention can we offer compassion, love, and hope.

How do character development and chronic illness relate? Enduring the suffering can offer a unique, God-inspired result. Unwavering faith strengthens character in a variety of ways. In fact, one of the manifestations of wisdom gained through affliction may very well result in much-needed comfort of someone else.

Encouragement

The next hurting person you encounter may need encouragement for patience, or trust, or one of the other character traits you have already developed through your own journey. At the end of the day, the experience of a chronic illness may very well reveal the intent of the Scripture: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

Allen Reasons, senior pastor

Fifth Avenue Baptist Church

Huntington, W.Va.

Right or Wrong? is co-sponsored by the Texas Baptist theological education office and Christian Life Commission. Send your questions about how to apply your faith to  bill.tillman@texasbaptists.org. (Top Image: Baylor University Medical Center)

The screen on my laptop is a smudgy mess. And I don’t intend to clean it up.

My friends and family who just read those sentences probably think I’m coming down with something. They know I’m fastidious, which is a $5 word for obsessive-compulsive, which is a psychological term for just-plain-nuts.

Thing is, I like things to be neat. And clean, too. But neat is better.

You know folks like me are twisted because we prefer neat over clean. If you’re smart and scientific and rational, you want stuff to be clean. If something is clean, then it’s probably not toxic. You won’t catch horribleness by touching it and then bringing your hand within a foot of your face.

Takes one to know one

But a preference for neatness is altogether different. If you think things have to be neat and orderly all the time, then there’s a better than even chance something is not neat and orderly inside your noggin’. I’m neither a psychologist nor the son of a psychologist, but I think compulsion to keep things properly arranged reflects an inordinate need to corral chaos. Where does that theory come from? Let’s just say it takes one to know one.

The smartest person I’ve ever met—and I won’t tell you his name, because he’s not only smart but modest—keeps one mess of a desk. And if you think his desk is a wreck, then just look at his credenza. Not to mention the couch across the room. But his mind is as neat and sharp as a pin. He even keeps a note about the relationship between cluttered desks and clear minds pinned on the wall. It’s there, even if sometimes obscured by stacks of papers.

I’m jealous, of course. I wish I were like him. Still, I can’t stop from arranging my desk before I go home in the evening. It’s spare. Ordered. Practically perfect in every way. I shudder to consider what my friend thinks my mind must be like.

A personal aberration

So, my messy computer screen represents a personal aberration. Maybe even liberation.

Almost every day, I pull out one of those microfiber wipes—the soft cloths optometrists give you to clean your glasses—and remove all the fingerprints and marks from that screen.

Right now, a thick, waxy collage of smudges covers a triangle-shaped section, about a quarter of the screen. I haven’t touched it to check, but I’d just about bet it’s sticky, too.

And I don’t have the slightest desire to wipe it down.

It reminds me of a little boy.

The other day, Joanna and I drove from our home in Coppell down to Buda to spend part of the weekend with our grandson, Ezra, and his mama and daddy. We had a ball. It was our best visit in that little guy’s two years and seven months on this planet.

Here’s unswaddled truth: Little kids improve with age. Babies get all the hoopla, but let’s talk turkey. Baby-time is overrated. I mean, really. For months, all they do is eat, cry, burp, poop and sleep. They’re cuddly and sweet, all right, but it’s hard to have much of a relationship with a baby.

Starting to jabber

But when a child starts to jabber? Well, that’s nothing short of a hoot. Ezra’s like a word magnet. He can say lots of things, and he’ll try to say anything. Even when his pronunciation falls somewhere shy of English, you pretty well know exactly what he means.

So, Jo and I thoroughly enjoyed talking to Ezra—or, more exactly, listening to Ezra talk. We also went swimming, choo-chooed trains on the living room floor, played at two parks, ate donuts, blew bubbles and shot water guns.

OK, I try not to be an over-the-top granddad. I don’t foist pictures of Ezra on friends. I think he’s a handsome little fellow, but he’s probably no better looking to you than your grandkid is to me. He’s smart as a Baby Einstein, of course, but your child might be, too.

The difference is Ezra is my grandson. We both smile when he enters the room. I can make him laugh, which makes me happier than words have the power to describe.

I’m keeping the smudges

I don’t want to wipe those smudgy fingerprints off my computer screen because Ezra put them there. For about an hour, he sat in my lap, and we watched videos: Thomas the Train. The Chuggingtons. Mickey Mouse in English, Spanish and Russian, of course. A few others I can’t remember.

When a video ended—which wasn’t necessarily when the story was over but when Ezra wanted to watch something else—he reached up and touched the YouTube icon of the video he wanted to see next.

That’s how my screen became a smudgy mess.

Just the way I like it.

I recently spent a memorable and meaningful few days with a group of music ministers. I had many significant conversations with these men and women about their life in the 21st century church. Many wanted to talk about the challenges of their specific settings.

Bill WilsonGranted, I was only hearing one side of these stories. Believe me, I know every story has multiple sides and complexities. Some of the things I’ve seen music leaders do defies belief. Even with that proviso, I am convinced those who lead in music and worship ministry are the recipients of an obscene amount of vitriol, anger, criticism and unreasonable expectations. While my experience with congregations and their relationship with music/worship leaders has been overwhelmingly positive, such is not the case for many.

Healthy churches can do better. Start with a hard question: How can we bring our expectations back to earth and turn our focus to the true calling of worship?

Here are some general thoughts to guide that conversation:

More art than science

1. Let’s acknowledge worship and music leadership is more art than science. No formula for worship will work in all settings. Just because something works at your cousin’s church in Birmingham does not mean it will succeed at yours.

2. Music hooks our emotions. When it comes to our emotions, most of us are irrational. That makes for a toxic brew in a church. No area of church life seems to invite more overreaction than worship and music. Since overreaction usually is a sign that something else is going on in your life you are ignoring, you might want to ask the simple question: “What is this really about for me?”

Most of us ar narcissists

3. Most of us are narcissists when it comes to worship and music. We know best, and we want what we want when we want it. We need a good dose of humility. Actually, we need to become Christians, because from all appearances, too many of us check our Christ-like spirit at the door most Sundays. Helpful, objective and constructive feedback is rare. Try setting up something to help with this.

4. There is no way to make everyone happy when it comes to planning music and worship. In fact, one sure way to make everyone unhappy is to try and make everyone happy. It’s the wrong agenda for many reasons. Primary among them: Your church’s music ministry is not there to please you. It is endeavoring to lead a group of people to worship God. By the way, one of the side effects of healthy worship is it helps grow you into the person God intends you to be. Guess what? That never is painless.

5. Music ministers often are artists first and administrators/schedule makers/people managers/relationship builders second. Granted, many of them need to work harder at some of their shortcomings, but don’t most of us?

No one has all the skills

6. No music minister possesses all the skills all the people want. If you think they do, you just don’t know them well enough. If they tell you they do, they are deluded and/or dishonest. In addition, many were trained for a music/worship culture that no longer exists.

7. Music and worship leadership is a team effort. No one person deserves all the blame or credit for what happens. Team leadership is not a music-specific skill. When interviewing potential music minister candidates, this should be as high a priority as anything on your list of desired traits. Remember, character trumps skills.

This isn’t ‘American Idol’

8. When it comes to music and worship evaluation and expectations, far too many people are harshly critical in a way that dishonors Christ and his church. This isn’t American Idol, and the congregation is not on a panel of self-absorbed judges.

9. The relationship between pastor and music minister is pivotal. Make sure both know you expect a healthy and collaborative approach. Make time and resources available to help make that happen.

10. Changing the style of worship music often is seen as the essential element in attracting young adults/turning around decades of decline/reaching unreached people groups/attracting throngs of the disaffected and disengaged. Such shortsighted thinking has created monumental strife and started an untold number of vicious congregational civil wars. It has fractured more churches than most of us can count. It seldom works, because the real issues at the heart of such concerns remain unaddressed.

I came away from my time inspired by the willingness of these men and women to learn and adapt to a changing church world. Sadly, I am deeply concerned about the congregational landscape they must navigate in the meantime. 

Bill Wilson is president of the Center for Congregational Health in Winston-Salem, N.C. His column is republished from ABPnews.com, where it is posted regularly as “Vital Signs.” You also can following him on Facebook and on Twitter @cntr4conghealth .

I attended seminary to be a pastor, but not before going to college to be a TV producer. Part of my media education involved a journalism course. The professor was a bulldog, unapologetically committed to making me better, whether I wanted it or not.

Joseph BarrettAlthough I reviled her at the time, I look back with warm memories of her passion. She made me a more disciplined pastor without knowing I would become one. Her journalism course taught me several lessons about preaching:

Be clear and concise

A visiting preacher borrowed my pulpit to preach for a search committee. Supposing this was his only opportunity to impress them, he combined all the sermons he ever heard into one super-jumbo-sized amalgam of Jesus soup that lasted forever. News articles always have a word limit. There is only so much space for the main point, so spit it out already! Sermons should answer questions parishioners are dying to ask: So what? Why should I care? What should I do? Who is this Jesus fellow, anyway? What is the real revelation of God for today?

If people leave worship unsure what the preacher said, the sermon failed. True sermons do not happen because it is Sunday morning and the preacher has to say something; they happen because the preacher has something to say. Preachers should make sure people understand what that thing is. They should:

• Select one main text.

• Preach no longer than 30 minutes. This applies to everyone.

• Quickly state the main thrust of the sermon.

• Avoid run-on sentences and flowery, vague grammar.

• Never allow a single “um,” “uh,” “like,” “OK,” “literally,” “basically,” “you know” or “so.” Filler words mean nothing.

• Not mumble. If the preacher does not seem to believe in the sermon, the congregation will not believe in it, either.

• Not yell. When preachers yell, parishioners don’t hear words; they just hear anger.

Prepare

When journalists neglect fact-checking, newspapers print errors. When preachers neglect research, God’s people hear less than truth. Retractions are hard to make while fumbling through disorderly notes, looking for something worth uttering, with hundreds of people looking on. Pastors who preach “what the Lord gave me between the parsonage and pulpit” are the ones whose churches form committees to move the parsonage farther from the church. They use time-filling clichés, such as, “God said it, I believe it, and that settles it.”

Worshippers need to be in touch with God’s word. That will not happen if the preacher is not in touch with it first. Hype and filler are no substitute for time spent reading good sources and reviewing the Bible text over and over again.

A good pastor is busy. A preacher should reserve some time anyway, even at the cost of sacrificing other work, to focus and research for preaching. There is no other time during the week to reach more ears with God’s word than during worship. People wake up and get dressed, burn gas and sacrifice their Sunday off. That takes effort. Imagine how disappointing it could be to come and find the preacher has not put any effort into the sermon.

Avoid technical language

Pilots talk yaw and pitch, ailerons and flaps. A golfer talks about swinging with his driver, and someone who knows nothing about golf thinks he is disclosing an extra-marital affair with his chauffeur. Not everyone knows those phrases. A journalist who insists on using the word “pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis” to describe lung inflammation would quickly lose readers. The congregation already knows the preacher is smart, so the preacher can drop the long words.

Spinning the truth is the same as lying

Occasionally, journalists tend to make news rather than report it. They may be trying to win favor or increase readership, but they do not benefit their readers. The same is true of preaching. A preacher who arrives at a difficult text in the Bible and tries to whitewash the truth may win favor, but the preacher is not doing the parishioners any favors. They came to church to hear the truth.

It is amazing enough that anyone in our culture still believes the church possesses the truth, so when some come to hear truth, they should receive it unprocessed and unfiltered. Some passages are not smooth stones. Some are not easy to pick up and hurl out to waiting ears. Some passages have thorns and may even startle with new implications for life and faith. It should be preached it as it is. The preacher should not spin the truth.

So what?

If more preachers answer the “so what?” questions of faith, that is a step in the right direction toward fulfilling their calling. Preachers who have a sincere calling are my heroes. So, remember the solemn instructions: “Preach the word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage with great patience and careful instruction” (2 Timothy 4:2).

Joseph Barrett is pastor of Central Baptist Church in Italy, Texas.

Some people say “freedom of speech” gives them the right to say whatever they want, including words that hurt other church members. What are the biblical guidelines for watching our tongues? And how can we balance Christ-like behavior and free speech?

We all remember well the first time we heard “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”

Anyone who is serious about following Christ faithfully and loving God with heart, soul, mind and strength is likely to have strong beliefs. Since childhood, many of us have been reminded we must be ready to defend those beliefs. And gratefully, we live in a country that celebrates the freedom to speak up without fear of consequence from the government.

Thanks to the Internet, text messaging and tweets, we also live in a day when we can speak up without having to look someone in the eye. This can lead us to believe we can use our freedom of speech without any consequence, because we can’t see the emotional and social repercussions of our sharp tone or strong words. Unfortunately, we live in a world where words, written and spoken, do injure.

A model from the New Testament

So, what are we to do with our strong beliefs and our freedom of speech? We have a model from the “great cloud of witnesses” that gives us an idea of how to proceed. In Acts 15, the early church encountered one of its first real dilemmas, and strong opinions were abundant. One group boldly insisted believers needed to be circumcised. Paul and Barnabas strongly disagreed, and we are told they entered into “sharp dispute and debate with them” (Acts 15:2).

Clearly, brotherly love did not cause Paul and Barnabas to remain silent. However, they did create a process for working through their disagreements. The apostles met for “much discussion” and listened to both sides of the argument. They looked for signs of the Holy Spirit’s work and what that might tell them about how to proceed. Once they reached a conclusion, they wrote down their decision with kind and conciliatory language and sent representatives with their letter to speak face-to-face with those who still might have questions or be concerned.

Conversation full of grace

This chapter helps provide us with a model when believers don’t always agree. We do speak up about our concerns and beliefs, but we also listen. Colossians 4:6 also encourages, “let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.” We ought always be prepared to answer, but our conversations ought always to be full of grace.

This means we consider with humility that we are fallible and our conclusion might be wrong. We also assume the best intentions in our brother or sister, even if we happen to disagree. If we speak up with humility and grace, we freely exercise our free speech while ensuring our conversations exhibit the love for one another Scripture says should characterize Christ-followers.

Emily Row Prevost, director of leadership development

East Texas Baptist University

Marshall

Right or Wrong? is co-sponsored by the Texas Baptist theological education office and Christian Life Commission. Send your questions about how to apply your faith to bill.tillman@texasbaptists.org.

Somewhere down the street, a squirrel got fried. That’s our theory, at least. Fuzzy rodents and electrical transformers don’t mix.

Joanna called me on my cell phone as I drove home from work a little after 6 p.m. “The power just went out,” my wife reported.

My mind raced to the really important priority. “What do you want to do about dinner?” I asked as I considered the second priority and tapped the weather app on my phone.

“Well, we’ll have to go out,” Jo replied, just as the app informed me the air around our home was 102 degrees. Welcome to August in Texas, where we do our best to imitate living conditions in the bowels of hell.

Waiting for power

Jo told me she already called the company we pay to provide us with electricity. Somebody there told her to call the company they pay to provide electricity to our neighborhood. (This raises a question: How does that work? I mean, how can Company A sell us electricity at a lower rate than Company B, when Company A actually buys electricity from Company B? Maybe I don’t want to know.) A call handler at Company B said they’d send a crew to our neighborhood.

When I got home, the house felt pretty comfortable. But what should I expect? The power had been off only 20 minutes. I imagined a movie about this evening, in which the number on our thermometer crept steadily higher while we walked around in sweat-soaked clothes, melted stuff oozed out of the freezer and Topanga, our dog, molted.

Jo talked on the phone with Danna, our next-door neighbor. She nodded in a way that told me their power was out, too. And while I took no pleasure in their torrid torment, I did feel comforted knowing we were not scorched alone. This meant (a) the problem wasn’t in our house and, more importantly, (b) the power company would take a multihouse electrical failure seriously. That thought alone made me feel a half-degree cooler.

As soon as I changed into shorts and flip-flops, we decided to head out for burgers. “Bring whatever you want to take to the library,” Jo advised.

Refuge at the library

So, we ate dinner and then headed over to hang out at the public library. Seldom have my tax dollars been so well-spent as to provide refuge from the heat on a summer evening.

But here’s an irony I didn’t notice at the time: We just about froze in the burger joint and library. Welcome to August in Texas, where businesses compensate for the hellacious heat by cranking their AC so low it approximates living conditions on a glacier in Greenland. Just think, if we could average our torrid external temperatures with the frosty fixations of restaurants, we’d feel like we lived in Hawaii’s tropical paradise.

When we got home, lights twinkled across the street, while five houses on our side hunkered in darkness. A work crew stood outside their truck, and we walked over to visit with them. Turns out, they were called out to clean up behind the electricians, who had not arrived yet.

I can’t tell you how hot our house was because, well, you know. The power was out, which meant the thermometer was kaput, too. Let’s just say our home felt muggy.

We pulled out the flashlights and killed a couple of hours, hoping the power would come back on before time to get ready for bed. In case you haven’t noticed, we live in an electricity-infused world. It’s pretty hard to do much of anything when the power’s out.

Blown spiritual transformers

That reminded me of the times when I’ve blown the spiritual transformers in my life. Like our little electrical outage the other night, I never expect or intend for the spiritual power to go out. It usually happens when I think I’m too busy to stay connected to the Source. I fail to spend time reading the Bible and rush through my prayers, talking without listening.

Pretty soon, my life is as powerless and ineffectual as our dark, sweltering house. Fortunately, my spiritual thermometer flashes a warning. If I’m listless and forlorn, I know I need to spend time with the Lord. God’s transforming power always is available.

And it’s even more refreshing than the air conditioner’s cool breeze, which blew through our home after the electricians finished their work on that hot, dark night.

Businesses fail every day. So do films, industrial parks, hospitals, churches and marriages.

Dreams and hard work don’t always win the gold. But when giants fall, the earth trembles.

The agonizing travails of an arrogant auto industry determined not to learn from experience took its largest victim this summer, when the Motor City itself filed for bankruptcy.

Tom EhrichWatch for other cities to follow suit. Big Auto isn’t the only large industry to lose its way through hubris and mismanagement, and Detroit isn’t the only city held captive—and rendered dysfunctional—by greed in high places.

The earth shook in Seattle, too, as longtime tech giant Microsoft showed how difficult it is for a successful enterprise to question the ground of its success and to adapt nimbly to changing conditions. It’s so much easier to wring another quarter of profits from an old paradigm—until that paradigm is bone-dry.

Microsoft isn’t the first tech giant to implode, and it won’t be the last. The symptoms of earnings tanking, new products failing and the innovation instinct made cautious are not unique to one of the world’s biggest computer companies. Still, the passing of an era is disconcerting to those who grew that era and, no less, to those who are riding newer waves. Their days also could be numbered and for the same reasons: Innovation and reliable profits rarely share the sandbox. Dreamer-builders and “suits” don’t get along. Google had a bad quarter, too.

Aversioon to further risk

The “young and restless” inevitably become the “mature and settled.” It isn’t an erosion of capability—some say older innovators accomplish more than youth—but rather an aversion to further risk, a visceral need for a steady paycheck, a desire to enjoy the harvest of success rather than save it for seed.

Hierarchies of power replace loose teams of energized collaborators. Fresh ideas collide with committees and, as at Microsoft, massive over-management. Leaders in the growth spurt conclude—quite wrongly—that growth was about them and not about luck, convergence and an entrepreneurial spirit that mixed hard work, high risk and delayed gratification.

On the one hand, the problem of maturing is nothing new. Count the casualties, from the men’s hat industry to corner hardware stores. You could add in the so-called “founder’s dilemma,” when the builder of an enterprise realizes his children have no “fire in the belly,” just an appetite for the good life.

The impermanence of success

Yet on the other hand, the withering of a Microsoft seems surprising and dreadful because of what it says about any permanence of success. I see this in churches, where even the healthiest congregation is one avoided risk from decline.

It doesn’t take much to stifle momentum: All it takes is one caving to settledness, one older cadre denouncing further change, one pastor who chooses to be a manager and not an entrepreneur.

When a startup is young, pioneers fear nothing. Hard work—bring it on. Lack of resources—we’ll make do. Failure—great learning opportunity.

In time, settlers take over. They deal with danger, not by embracing it, but by minimizing risk. No more delayed paydays. I want my $1 million wedding now, or, as Detroit found, my never-ending pension untethered from funding.

In their aversion to risk, they cease rigorous self-examination but prefer to see today continuing forever, or at least until they get their due.

No enterprise can survive getting too comfortable. Serenity comes from living on the edge, in constant transformation, not from eating well.

Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant and author of Just Wondering, Jesus and founder of the Church Wellness Project. Website: www.morningwalkmedia.com. Twitter: @tomehrich. His column is distributed by Religion News Service.

Did you know “there may be MAJOR interest” in my timeshare condominium in beautiful, sunny Florida?

Well, I didn’t, either.

Because I don’t own a timeshare condominium in beautiful, sunny Florida.

Do I absolutely enjoy visiting the beach in Florida? Would I be absolutely thrilled to own a condominium—timeshare or otherwise—in Florida? And would I consider selling a Florida condo for a nice, hefty profit?

Yes. Yes. And maybe.

But since I don’t own a Florida condominium and seriously doubt I could afford one, the prospect of selling one never entered my mind.

That changed the other day, when someone named Jill S. sent me an email.

A Monday pregnant with possibilities

Jill wrote, “Demand for timeshares is at an all-time high Monday, and there is an entire market interested in purchasing yours.” She sent the email Monday. I assume if she had sent the email on Sunday or Tuesday, the all-time high would have been Sunday or Tuesday. But maybe not. Maybe the all-time high really was Monday. Timing, as they say, is everything.

Simultaneously with selling my timeshare condo—And what are the odds of this?—that same day apparently happened to be an excellent moment to …

• Buy new home windows.

• Discover “summer hair no-nos.”

• Check my credit score.

• Learn how I “never need to eat healthy food and exercise again to lose (lbs.).”

• Get my website previewed.

• Buy overstocked computers and smartphones at outrageously low prices.

Did someone bug our kitchen?

Now, I will admit those three emails offering fantastic deals for replacing our home windows made me a little paranoid. Our windows are the same age as our house, which is somewhere north of 30 years old. And some of them are, shall we say, “frosty.” In fact, just the other evening, Joanna added “Consider replacing windows” to our list of home repairs that are about as enticing as a do-it-yourself root canal and as rewarding as scrubbing the floor of the shower. So, I did—for a minute there—wonder if someone bugged our kitchen.

But all that other advice residing in my email in-box? C’mon.

If I were even remotely capable of committing a “summer hair no-no,” I would go on TV with Joel Osteen and tell the world I’m living my best life now.

And as for the rest: If you pay all your bills on time for 35 years, your credit score is pretty whopping good. I actually like working out, and my wife and doctor (the only two people who count) don’t want me to lose weight. My websites are practically brand-new and doing great. And when my computer and cell phone work perfectly, then even deals on new ones are a waste of money.

Common denominator

The common denominator among all these emails is they came from people who pretended to know me and assumed they know exactly what I need. 

The common denominator among all these emails is they came from people who pretended to know me and assumed they know exactly what I need. They all arrived the same day, and some came in more than once. Those offers to improve my credit rating really stacked up.

Unfortunately—Or is it ironically?—all that email spam reminded me of how Christians sometimes present the gospel. Before we get to know people, we insist we have the solution to all their problems.

That may be true on a cosmic, eternal scale. But if we don’t know about the challenge she’s facing today or the issue with his job or the rift in their marriage, our message isn’t credible.

I’ve never been a whack-’em-over-the-head-with-a-Bible kind of Christian. God didn’t give me the gift of evangelistic whacking. But I do know the best, most redemptive spiritual, faith-full and, yes, evangelistic conversations happen when I listen more than talk.

Sometimes, it’s awkward and uncomfortable. But empathetic silence often is sacred. And the best spiritual answer often is “I don’t know.” We can witness with receptive listening and patient anticipation.

Even though I know The Answer. I don’t have all the answers. Do you?

Oh, and if you want to buy my beachfront timeshare in the Texas Panhandle, give me a call.