The best Christmas present I received this winter didn’t arrive wrapped in colored paper or nestled in a fancy bag. It didn’t lie under a tree or hang in a stocking. And Santa didn’t haul it down a chimney.

A blond-haired, blue-eyed little fellow with a huge grin delivered my favorite gift straight to my heart. His name is Ezra, and he “re-gifted” a truly precious present.

Ezra’s grandmother (Jody) and I (Marvo) spent parts of two weeks with him, first in our home and then in his, this past Christmas season.

One of the great joys of grandparenting is the opportunity to return—unbridled and unembarrassed—to the wonder of childhood. And that’s the present Ezra gave me.

A child lives completely in each moment. An adult measures a moment against the reflection of the past and the specter of the future. But a child focuses on the now. Absorbing every essence of what is happening in the instant. Unconcerned about what was or will be.

For a child, each snack, every game, each book, every toy, each video and every hug represents the sum-total of snackness, gameness, bookness, toyness, videoness and hugosity. What matters is what’s happening in that moment. And that gives the whole-hearted wonderer the capacity to savor and absorb its totality.

Wonder like that wanders through the phases of our lives. When we’re children, it comes to us pure and unbidden. It’s the way we know the world. Later, when we’re parents, we see it in our daughters and sons. We experience its purity in the laughter and, yes, even tears of our offspring, because their essence inhabits our hearts. And then much later, we rediscover that wonder in our grandchildren. We remember it almost like the tunes of our youth, which remind us how we once danced.

If possible, that wonder feels even sweeter to a grandparent than a parent. I think it’s because of the distance in the gap from childhood to parenthood compared to the gap from parenthood to grandparenthood.

A child gets to remain a child for many of the years leading up to parenthood. But a grandparent is an adult from parenthood onward. And adulthood wears down, whittles away and washes out wonder. Distracted by raising kids, maintaining a marriage, making the mortgage, paying the bills, keeping a job, building a career, living in society and recognizing mortality, an adult forgets how to see the world as a child sees it.

By the time their children bear children, grandparents are ready to wonder again. Believe me, it’s fantastic, surprising, luxurious and altogether delightful.

Ezra loves trains, and we sat in the floor beside his little wooden track, and we played trains by the hour. We pushed them over hills and around curves and through the train station. We added cars and changed engines. We placed loads on the flat-bed cars and repaired derailments. We said, “Choo-choo!”

When we weren’t playing trains, Ezra said, “Tos,” which means “Thomas the Train.” So, we pulled out my computer, got on the Internet, and watched videos of Thomas and his train friends.

Hour by hour, I lived in Ezra’s moment.

That gift is priceless.

People say, “We need to get government off our backs” so much, it seems they don’t want smaller government, but no government. In contrast, Jesus talked about government’s role in God’s created order. How can I communicate that idea to fellow church members and neighbors?

While the tendency may be to argue they are wrong, an effective strategy may be to ask what the government is doing to them that causes such distress. These comments seem to have exploded recently. When we hear them, we might start a helpful dialogue by asking what government action they are talking about. My guess is they will not provide a lot of specifics.

One has to wonder if the recent anti-government grousing is just one more ramification of the “me” society. We seem to hate anything that prevents us from doing everything we want or sharing any of our money to provide for the least of God’s children. The most absurd ramification of recent days is the movement in some groups to secede from the United States. Clearly, advocates have given little thought to the benefits they would lose if they got their wish. A discussion point might be to talk about Jesus’ view of government and how collective action for the common good accomplishes his purposes.

If Jesus spoke of rendering to Caesar, a brutal despot, how much more should we honor a duly elected government? It may be that rendering to Caesar involves more than just paying taxes, although the obligation of those to whom much is given to give in return certainly applies. Rendering to Caesar also may involve giving your time and energy to try to get the laws you like enacted and those you don’t changed—and not throwing a tantrum when you don’t succeed.

Citizenship involves thoughtful consideration of numerous issues, including considering compromise and not just adopting an anti-government rant forwarded from the Internet.

You also might remind the complainers that government gives us police officers who protect our homes and families, interstate highways that make travel easy, homeland security that allows air travel free from the constant threat of terror and schools where all children can get an education to enable them to accomplish the American dream.

If someone wanted to secede and start their own country, they would need to provide their own border security, raise their own army, find money for colleges without U.S. government grants or loans, buy their own national parks and find the money to maintain them. We possess the luxury of choosing a lovely greeting card, and for 45 cents, having it flown across the country and hand-delivered to the recipient.

Point out that in 1955, the highest tax rate on individual incomes was 91 percent. We are doing a lot more in 2013 while paying a lot less in taxes.

Cynthia Holmes, attorney
Former moderator, Cooperative Baptist Fellowship
Clayton, Mo.

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.

Hello, Texas Baptists! I hope you had a merry Christmas and 2013 is off to a good start.

As 2012 ended, I had the opportunity to preach at Dallas County Cowboy Church (www.dallascountycowboychurch.com), where Mike McKinney is the pastor. One of the great thrills of my morning there was the privilege of baptizing two new believers. Using a horse trough as a baptistery proved to be no problem at all. This church began four years ago with seven people and now has more than 400 every Sunday. They are raising money for a new building, and the future looks bright.

The last Sunday of 2012 found me at Agape Baptist Church in Fort Worth (www.agapebaptist.org), where I filled the pulpit for their pastor, James Hassell. I first met James when he was a doctor of ministry student at Baylor University’s Truett Theological Seminary while he served as pastor of First Baptist Church in Tulia. He’s providing great leadership for Agape Baptist. They have begun the process of purchasing property for a new facility.

Many of you will remember former Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary professor Justice Anderson, whose funeral was last week at Agape. He was a charter member of that church, which has many wonderful years of ministry ahead of it.

On our way to Agape, Kathleen and I stopped off to visit Tommy Wong, pastor of Chinese Baptist Church in Fort Worth. Just before Christmas, the church suffered significant fire damage to its auditorium. I was impressed with the faithfulness the church was demonstrating after such an event. I also was proud of our Texas Baptist staff, who already had been on site with the pastor and church leaders, mapping out a process going forward.

I attended the funeral service for my friend and colleague Mike Toby of First Baptist Church of Woodway (www.fbcwoodway.org). Mike had been pastor of First Woodway 35 years and faithfully served as a member of Texas Baptists’ Executive Board. Mike’s video testimony during his last weeks of life served as an encouragement to thousands of people and provides a great example of how to live out one’s final days as a faithful witness to our Lord Jesus Christ.

Thanks to Stacy Conner, pastor of First Baptist Church of Muleshoe (www.fbcmuleshoe.org) for allowing me the privilege of beginning 2013 by filling this pulpit. I was so blessed to be with this congregation.

That evening, I had the opportunity to participate in a commissioning service at Trinity Baptist Church in Muleshoe, in which Trinity gave its facility over to Primera Iglesia Bautista for its new place of worship. It was a special day, and I was honored to be a part.

Your Texas Baptist Executive Board staff begins this new year with a new director of human resources, Rollie Richmond. He comes to us with a lot of valuable experience, a great Christian spirit and commitment, and a desire to serve our entire Texas Baptist family. So, if you or your church needs some advice or assistance along the human resources lines, please feel free to contact him at rollie.richmond@texasbaptists.org.

I encourage you to mark your calendars for July 14-17. These are the dates of our “Family Gathering” in San Antonio. This is our combined convention! We’ll join our African-American Fellowship, Hispanic Baptist Convention and all the other affinity groups for one large, exciting time of worship and fellowship. Yes, there will be a little business conducted. But primarily, we’ll celebrate what God is doing in and through our Texas Baptist family.

More coming next time. In the meantime, you can follow me on Twitter! Find me at @dwhardage.

God bless you all.

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

When you get there, you will not have to look hard to find two things in heaven. And both will make you very happy.

The first is this—the absence of all things bad. The second is like it—the presence of all things good. One eliminates the possibility of sadness and sorrow; the other assures the permanence of something we find only fleetingly here on earth, abundant joy.

At first, you will be startled by the absence of evil. Get used to it! You may have suffered much in this life, but no more. No illness, no lingering cancer, no diabetes with needles and poked fingers, no sore backs, and “Look, Ma, no cavities” in those resurrected and restored heavenly teeth you’ll possess.

Even more startling to you when you first “cross over,” you’ll discover there is no moral evil there. You are a sinner here, but there, you will sin no more. There is no temptation, because the tempter is banned from the place. You will find no foolishness beyond those gates. Wisdom and goodness will be the pleasant scent of every blossom and the delightful taste of every fruit.

There will be no want, no needy and no poor; all that is necessary to bless you and assure your happiness will be there.

Intellectually, think of the stimulating conversations we will have. Eternity chatting with the greatest men and women in history awaits us. I look forward to visiting one-on-one with Mr. Lincoln, when I finally break away from my conversation with Barnabas, the son of encouragement. Maybe I’ll spend a decade or two with Billy Graham and a couple more with Zig Ziglar, listening to his “Zig-isms” of wit and wisdom.

Imagine how amazed you’ll be hearing the details of how angels watched after you. Your guardian angels will share delightful details of deliverances you knew nothing about. They were employed in your protection. I have no doubt you will be free at last to express your undying gratitude personally.

But even that will pale in comparison to the joy you will have when you reunite with loved ones who’ve gone before. For some, it will be Mom and Dad, or maybe a brother or sister who awaits you in heaven. For others—at last—you will have eternity to get to know your child, that one taken from you too early, so young, so innocent. It was an illness, perhaps, or an accident, an infant, a toddler, a teenager. And you’ve always wondered about the life your child might have had—the personality you didn’t get to know. Here is your opportunity.

Could be after you’ve been there a couple million years, you bump into me. I’ll be walking down some gold-paved back alley behind a bookstore, and there you will be, waving at me. We’ll give each other a big hug and introduce ourselves. We will take a moment and sit on a park bench and laugh and rejoice as we get to know one another.

Of course, nothing will surpass the awe and amazed joy that will come upon us as you and I sit there on that park bench when, suddenly, the area all about us brightens. It will be like some overexposed photograph, and the temperature will rise a degree or two. You see, in heaven, there is no sun; none is needed! We will be dazzled by the brightness of the Son of God. I envision him passing by as we visit. He stops to chat with us a moment. You will say: “Lord, listen. I’ve got some questions I’ve been wanting to ask you—you know, about my time on earth. Is it OK if I come by and see you later?”

The Son of God will beam a broad smile and say: “Of course! Talk to Michael, and he’ll set aside a century or two, and I’ll tell you everything you ever wanted to know.”

And you will say, “Thanks, Lord!”

Then, before he continues on, that beam of light will rest his nail-pierced hands upon each of our shoulders. He will lower his head and quietly ask his Father to bless us in ways that are new, in ways we can’t even imagine, ways I can’t articulate.

Here, we are tossed on the stormy ocean of life. There, we’ll be anchored in a safe haven—the safest of havens. It’s a permanent mooring. The conflicts of this world will be but a memory. Reality will be something altogether different and unpredictable.

Maybe I’ve got a detail or two wrong. Maybe none of us can express it adequately. But I do know this: We will be conquerors and more than conquerors who have found our strength and our eternal salvation not through deeds of our own but by something far better. It’s as simple as a gift brought from afar by magi to a babe born in a manger. It’s a blessing bought and paid for on a hill called Calvary. It’s been given freely to us by a beam of light with nail-scarred hands, the very essence of truth and wisdom, the Word made flesh who dwelt among us: Jesus Christ the Son of God.

Rich Mussler is dean for enrollment management at Amberton University and an author, and he teaches adult Bible study at First Baptist Church in Lewisville.

(ABP)–In late November 1996, my wife and I attended Les Misérables at the Palace Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue in London, England.

Attending the play was such a transcendent experience for us we said we would never see it again. We did not want to ruin or change the memory we shared together. We kept that promise for 16 years.

Darrell Gwaltney

Recently, we went to a local cinema and watched the Tom Hooper film, Les Misérables.

When we walked out, our hearts were full.

Every author makes choices when telling a story. Victor Hugo’s original Les Misérables was a 1,500-page masterpiece complete with high drama and arcane social and political history. It remains one of the greatest novels of all time.

When Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg reimagined Hugo’s sweeping drama for the musical stage they captured the essence of the story and memorialized it with heartbreaking lyrics and tunes.

Young Cosette sweeping in an 1886 engraving for Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables Tom Hooper’s film makes choices, too. One specific choice he made was to film the actors singing live. Their acting and their singing come together in a captivating cinematic chemistry. Anguish, sorrow, love and hope tremble with each actor’s voice.

The majority of critics praise the film. Audiences are flocking to it. My wife and I left with full hearts.

Why?

We mark this previous year by the tragic death of innocents in public places, a divisive presidential election, conflict here and abroad and a haunting economic specter nudging us to the edge of a fiscal cliff.

We long for something to remind us that the broken can, indeed, find healing and redemption.

How could a film have been more perfectly timed for a nation desperately hungry for grace?

The story of Les Misérables sets before us classic human drama. Valjean steals a loaf of bread to feed his sister’s child and spends 19 years in prison. He seethes with anger.

Young Cosette sweeping in an 1886 engraving for Victor Hugo’s  Les Misérables.

Fantine must provide for her illegitimate daughter, so she leaves Cosette with innkeepers who abuse the young girl. Struggling through one hardship after another to provide for her daughter, Fantine sinks down and down until she sells her hair, her teeth and her body.

The poor, the poor are everywhere. “There’s a hunger in the land,” they sing, “There’s a reckoning still to be reckoned and there’s gonna be hell to pay at the end of the day.”

Our national pain confronts us on the big screen. We must come to terms with the choices we have made. We must be honest about what parts of our soul we have sold. Our children suffer. We cannot turn our eyes away from the poor.

What shall we do?

Grace wonderfully offers second chances when it seems there are none. A gracious priest gives Valjean a second chance on life.

Grace says to Fantine that even though “life has killed the dream [she] dreamed” her daughter Cossette will have a future.

Grace holds out hope that somewhere beyond the barricade there is a world we long to see.

At the end of a difficult year and with tragedy too recent in our memories, Les Misérables creates a space for emotional release. In the darkened cinema the moviegoers collectively reach out for grace to help them find redemption in their own lives.

Valjean sang of my anger and selfishness. Javert held a mirror of legalism before my face. Fantine helped me grieve over lost opportunity. The students on the barricade reminded me of the time I thought I could change the world. Cosette and Marius gave me hope for a new generation.

Here we are in the edge between two years. Behind us we have poor choices, responsibility and suffering children. Can we remake our own lives in this coming year?

The classic finale soars with a graceful call for a better tomorrow:

“It is the music of the people
Who are climbing to the light.
For the wretched of the earth
There is a flame that never dies.
Even the darkest night will end
And the sun will rise.
They will live again in freedom
In the garden of the Lord.”

I will reach for that this year. I will reach for this grace that redeems all things. Will you reach with me?

—Darrell Gwaltney is dean of School of Religion at Belmont University.

I am coming soon. Hold on to what you have, so that no one will take your crown. The one who is victorious I will make a pillar in the temple of my God. Never again will they leave it. I will write on them the name of my God and the name of the city of my God, the new Jerusalem, which is coming down out of heaven from my God; and I will also write on them my new name. Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches. (Revelation 3:11-13)

“I am coming soon.” What wonderful words! They are comforting in times of trouble. Each time tragedy strikes, I hear someone ask Jesus to make good on this promise—“Come quickly, Lord Jesus.” He promises, “I am coming soon.” Indeed, these are the words we’ve been waiting for. Yes, Lord, but when? What restless souls we are.

Eric Black

I am becoming restless in two directions. In one direction, I, too, want Jesus’ promise to come true. I long for “the new Jerusalem” and his “new name.” In the other direction, though, I know there are many for whom Jesus’ promise is ominous, not joyful. How can these words be good news for them, too?

When I see the phrase “Coming Soon,” I think about movie theaters. As a teenager, I worked for a wonderful family for whom “Coming Soon” was truly good news. Each Christmas, they went to the theater to see the movies that opened on Christmas Day. For weeks leading up to Christmas, they planned their whole day around the show times. I always think of them when I see the phrase “Coming Soon” under a movie poster at a theater, and I think about how those two words created such anticipation in them.

As a parent of young children, when I see the phrase “coming soon,” I also hear the questions, “When is it going to be time,” and “When are we going to get there?” I respond as patiently as I can, “Soon, Honey. Soon.” My oldest responds with some degree of exasperation, “I know, but when, Dad?” I assure you, no man knows the day or the hour.

I try to be patient, because I remember the anticipation of “getting there.” I also know now there are those on the other end of the waiting game, the grandparents looking out the window wondering, “When are they going to get here?” Soon is good news for the grandparents, too. Soon is so much better than knowing there’s no point in looking out the window because no one is coming. Soon, we’ll be there soon. Yes, but not soon enough.

And so it is. We promise our children we will be there soon. We wait knowing we will not wait forever. But, oh, the waiting. Until those words—“I am coming soon”—are fact and no longer promise, until then, we wait.

Until then, we wait in a broken world long on promises but short on fulfillment. We wait with hope broken by disappointment, peace broken by fighting, joy broken by tragedy, and love broken by betrayal. Even the joy candle in our own Advent wreath could not escape the brokenness that characterizes our world and our poor attempts to fix things. Even so, we mended it, and we light it in defiance because we look to joy that no one can break, and we wait for it.

But we will not wait forever, for Jesus said, “I am coming soon.” Someday, all our brokenness will be no more, and we will be whole. But when? You say you are coming soon, Lord. We know this, but when? “Someday,” he says, and when we begin to think we must be happy with “someday,” we remember, “No, he said someday soon!”

I was first introduced to Brad Landis’ song “Someday” by our Church of Christ siblings in Abilene, singing the round as only they can:

Someday, someday, someday, someday
Peace and joy and happiness,
no more sorrow, someday.

Gotta be ready when he calls my name
Gotta be ready when he calls my name
Gotta be ready when he calls my name
Someday, someday.

The trumpets will sound,
And all the dead shall rise,
We’ll walk the streets of gold,
Someday.

In one direction, Jesus promising he is coming soon is indeed good news, but in that other direction?

In that other direction is a broken world filled with broken people who do broken things. Most of them don’t want to be broken, and they don’t want to do broken things, and yet the world has proven itself a cruel place. For them, “I am coming soon” sounds more like the threat: “Just wait ’til your Dad gets home. He’ll deal with you then.” Yes, the world can be a threatening place, but there is a better way.

The better way is the way of “the one who is victorious.” The victorious one, eager for Jesus’ return, travels in that other direction, proclaiming until Jesus comes the new day that is already here. If you, too, are eager for Jesus’ return, then we must be about the business of the new day. We must travel in that other direction.

As we travel, we must mend broken hope through our own steadfastness. We must mend broken peace by being peacemakers. We must restore broken joy by celebrating and giving away new life in Christ. We must restore broken love by embodying Christ in others’ lives. We must replace brokenness with our Christ-mended lives.

In doing these things we show we belong to Jesus and make ourselves useful as we wait, for he is coming soon! May this become truly good news for all.

Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches.

Eric Black is pastor of First Baptist Church of Covington, Texas.

I own more than 20 rifles, shotguns and pistols. We gun owners have insisted on our Second Amendment rights, and we have insisted those rights be virtually absolute. We have rejected common-sense restrictions on those rights. Tragically, 20 children at Sandy Hook Elementary School paid the price for our unrestricted right to own guns. Now their families grieve for the little ones they love, and we mourn the lives that might have been.

It’s time that we face reality—that our insistence on making those rights absolute makes it easier for disturbed individuals to carry out mass murders. I believe it is time those of us who own guns face some common-sense reality and lead in calling for the enactment of effective gun laws that meet the constitutionality test. Gun owners need to lead the effort to stop these horrible tragedies.

Hunting has been an important part of my family for generations. I have killed deer with my grandfather’s .30 Remington built in 1912 and my father’s .300 Savage manufactured in 1932. Most of my guns are antiques, which I value greatly, that belonged to my father or grandfather. I want to leave my guns to my sons, but I believe we must first change the gun culture in our country for me to do so.

The Second Amendment to the U. S. Constitution reads: “A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a Free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”

I believe in the Second Amendment and my right to own a gun. But every right is accompanied by obligations and responsibilities. We need a serious discussion about the kinds of guns the average citizen should be able to own legally, and what kind of reasonable restrictions should be placed on their sale and use.

I do not believe any of the following regulations would violate the Second Amendment.

Should it be as easy to buy a gun as it is today? I do not think so.

Several years ago, to reward myself for winning a fantasy baseball league, I went to a local store and bought a .270 deer rifle. After paying, I immediately walked out with the rifle.

It shouldn’t be that easy. Unlike a loaf of bread or gallon of milk, a firearm is a lethal weapon. No one should be able to just walk right out with a firearm they’ve bought at a gun show or store.

I propose, at a minimum, three requirements:

A reasonable waiting period

Serious background checks

Automatic registration of the gun in a national database

We must work harder to keep guns out of the hands of convicted criminals, as well as mentally incompetent and disturbed individuals. If law-abiding citizens have to go through additional red tape to own a firearm, then so be it. It’s too late to save those 20 children at Sandy Hook, but their deaths will have meaning if we can save others from suffering similar tragedies.

• Let’s have a reasonable discussion about the number of bullets any firearm can hold without requiring reloading. When I go deer hunting, I usually load three or four bullets. If I need more than that, I probably shouldn’t be hunting in the first place. No individual needs to own an assault weapon or any weapon with a clip that will hold more than five to 10 rounds of ammunition. No one needs an assault weapon for civilian purposes.

The bottom line? Sale of assault weapons to civilians—and any such use—should be prohibited.

• To purchase and own a firearm, an individual should be required to obtain a license and proper training in safe use of the firearm. We require training and licensing to drive a vehicle, sell real estate or sell insurance. This is because of the potential impact of these activities on other people. So why should we permit an untrained individual to own and use a firearm, which has the potential of causing great harm to others?

• No one can guarantee the effect of any of these regulations, because gun violence certainly involves many issues besides gun laws, such as mental health, parental responsibility and the impact of television, movies and video games in desensitizing individuals to the tragic results of violence. But it is time for a healthy, open and candid discussion about all of these issues, including gun regulations. Those of us who own and love to use guns need to take part in that discussion with open and caring minds and hearts.

• The arguments I hear from other gun owners opposing any regulation of the type and use of firearms do not make sense to me anymore in light of the circumstances of modern America. I do not accept the argument that allowing one regulation opens the door to all guns being taken away. We live in a world in which many things are properly regulated.

• For example, I am a homebuilder and accept, without question, that the homes I build are inspected and held to a reasonable standard of quality. However, regulation of my homebuilding does not prevent me from continuing to build homes; it simply means that I must build them to a standard of quality that any purchaser should expect in a new home. By the same token, to have the right to own a firearm, we gun owners should welcome proper and sensible regulation and required training.

And I have no more patience for the expression, “Guns don’t kill people, only people kill people.” If we’re honest, we’ll admit that guns make it easier to kill people, and the type of gun used makes it easier to kill more people at once—and harder for the victims to defend themselves.

Nat Tracy, my Bible professor at Howard Payne University, defined freedom as “glad obedience to authority.” That definition applies in many areas of life. To drive safely, I need to follow reasonable laws designed to make driving safe. To make music, I need to follow rules of melody and harmony. If I want to own and use a firearm, my freedom to do so can and should be defined by our laws in a reasonable and safe manner.

Gun owners should welcome this healthy discussion regarding proper regulation and provide leadership to make it happen.

David R. Currie is a retired Baptist minister, owner of Cornerstone Builders and member of Southland Baptist Church in San Angelo.

Mike Huckabee was back on the news this weekend speaking in his self-appointed role as America’s Christian conscience. I admit it—he speaks and I react. I am a devoted follower of Jesus, but I do not understand Mike Huckabee’s expression of faith.  So, I join others in responding to the Huckabee interpretation about the massacre in Connecticut. Huckabee’s passion for his faith and our country sparked controversy when he suggested the shooting was related to the lack of religious expression in public schools. He said we shouldn’t be surprised at the violence when we have “systematically removed God from our schools.”    

Huckabee made the circuit again Monday morning, talking about morality, evil and sin, invoking the Ten Commandments with his message that America has lost our way and that this was a matter of a young man’s sin. He stated, “We carefully and intentionally stop saying things are not sinful, and we say they are disorders or even normal.” This time, he pointed out that we don’t need new laws; we need to enforce God’s law: “Thou shalt not kill.”  

Well, there’s another biblical command that gets brought up less frequently in these debates—the Sermon on the Mount. It isn’t as popular in public discourse as the Ten Commandments, but here Jesus says love is the ultimate law. Here is a law that disavows revenge and retaliation. Here, Jesus says to love and pray for those who hate you and plan to harm you.  

I agree with Huckabee that teaching our children not to kill is essential. But I also want to find real ways to live out Jesus’ teachings about love. I’m not always sure how to do that, but the Bible is clear that if we have resources and see a brother or sister in need, we are to fill that need. I am convinced that loving my brother who is sick means that I have to find a way to address that illness. This includes my brother who is mentally ill.

My family members and I enjoy healthy online chats about these kinds of things. This morning on Facebook, I was reminded by a family member that God is at work in our nation’s schools, but we have shoved him out of our public lives and to the sidelines. I can agree with this statement, but I disagree with what it means for God to be pushed out. God is not pushed out because we can’t pray a school prayer over the loudspeaker; God is not pushed out because we can’t post scripture on the courthouse lawn. God is pushed out because we cannot find ways to love our brothers and sisters who are in need. God is not pushed out because of a lack of prayer; our prayers are abundant. God is pushed out because of the ways we deny affordable and adequate health care.

Morality isn’t only about the evil of shooting, although I agree that is absolutely immoral. Morality also is about our unwillingness to fund mental health care across our country.

If we want to see change and if we want to see God at work, then we need to pray; we need to see the sin in this atrocity; however, we also have to see the sickness in it. And then we have to treat the sickness and not just name the sin. Loving our neighbors in times like this is not easy. The shooter’s mother loved him; mothers love their children even when they do not know how to treat their mental illness. But we have to join our mothers as we learn to love our neighbors in need. We have to offer help to mothers so they do not feel like they are alone in loving their children.

In our recent online chat, my family member reminded me to “never, ever underestimate the power of God to change our nation. God is at work, but not in a nation-changing way, because as Huckabee said, we have shoved him out of our public lives and to the sideline.”

That may be right, and prayer may be the answer, but so is love for our neighbor. So is love for our brother and sister in need. And that love requires feeding them when they are hungry, clothing them when they are naked, and providing them with the professional care they need when they are mentally ill.

Visit www.nami.org to learn more about how to support mental health care.

Jon Singletary is the associate dean for baccalaureate studies in the Baylor University School of Social Work and the Diana R. Garland Chair of Child and Family Studies.

How can the children who survived the Newtown massacre, the parents of those who died, the teachers, the community or anyone in the nation have Christmas now? Who can sing “Fa La La La La” with a straight face? Who can light candles, receive presents, attend a worship service? Who can bear to read about peace on earth and goodwill to men?

The reactions to the mass shooting have been as swift as they have been predictable. Prayers for the families. Psychological explanations. Exasperated calls for gun control and exasperated replies that the only reason this criminal could do what he did was that he was in a “gun-free zone.”

Questions. Questions. Questions.

Asking “why” is normal. It does not get us very far.

I can ask why these children were gunned down. I can ask why drunks drive and wars rage. I can ask why shooters shoot and why abusers strike.

But eventually, we have to move past these questions about symptoms. Sooner or later, we realize that asking why these bad people have done bad things, or even why apparently decent people have done bad things leads to a much more basic premise.

I have seen this more basic issue—the disease—raised in different places today. “Our world has gone mad.” “What is wrong with us?” “Evil is rampant.” We live in a world full of bad people—and decent people who do bad things.

The answer to this problem is not universal health care, social Security, gun control, reduction in taxes, capitalism, patriotism, more government or less government. The answer is not political, because the problem is not political.

The answer to this question is not kindness, philanthropy, hugging each other more or patience. The answer is not social, because the problem is not social.

This is a problem the Bible addresses repeatedly. We have a sin problem. We are, at our essence, an unholy, stained people. We fail. We do not meet the standard God has set for us. The answer to the question “What is wrong with us?” is obvious to those who are willing to see. The answer is we sin. Our world is devastated by its failure to meet the mark.

Our world stinks.  It is full of jackasses and stupid sheep and other dumb animals who do nothing more than act on base instinct.  It is full of dung and smells like it.  It is every bit a stable.

The answer to this problem is found in one place. And that one place is a manger in Bethlehem.

Jesus was not born because God was lonely or because the angels needed a chance to air that new chorus they had been rehearsing. Jesus was born for one reason—to die. Jesus came, as the Bible repeatedly makes clear, to save us from ourselves.

How can those in Connecticut have Christmas? They have no choice. They must have Christmas. They must find room for the Son of God to enter the stench of our world and do what only the Son of God can do.

Chris Rice has written: “Tears are falling, hearts are breaking; how we need to hear from God. You’ve been promised, we’ve been waiting. Welcome, holy child. Bring your peace into our violence, bid our hungry souls be filled. Word now breaking heaven’s silence, welcome to our world. So wrap our injured flesh around you, breathe our air and walk our sod. Rob our sin and make us holy, perfect Son of God. Welcome to our world.”

Christmas in Connecticut will surely result in more kindness, philanthropy, hugs and patience. It may even resolve a political dispute or two. If so, that will be nice.

But what a world where one young man can shoot dozens of elementary school children needs is more basic—and much more complex—than a hug and a handout.

We have all, like sheep, gone astray. We have turned, every one of us, to our own way.

But behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and He shall be called “Emmanuel,” which means “God with us.” And he shall save his people from their sins. And the government shall be upon his shoulder. And his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. And the lion and the lamb will lie down together. And a little child shall lead them.

It is absolutely time for Christmas in Connecticut.

Lyn Robbins is a Baptist, a blogger (www.wlrjr.blogspot.com) and senior general attorney for Burlington Northern Sante Fe. He lives in Fort Worth, Texas.

Virginia Connally celebrated with family and friends when she turned 100 this month. But even though she has spanned a century, the quality of her life supercedes the quantity of her years.

About 400 well-wishers, plus Hardin-Simmons University’s World-Famous Cowboy Band, turned out to celebrate Dr. Connally’s centennial in Abilene Dec. 8, four days after she eclipsed the century mark. We stood in line for the opportunity to hug her and to tell her how much we admire her and how blessed we feel because she has been part of our lives.

{mosimage}Virginia made history in 1940, when she became the first woman to practice medicine in Abilene. Across a lifetime of firsts, she became the first female chief of staff at Hendrick Medical Center and the first female president of the Taylor-Jones County Medical Society. She received the Texas Medical Association’s Lifetime Achievement Award this year.

She pioneered in church and Baptist life, too. She was among the first women ordained deacons at First Baptist Church in Abilene. Her passion for sharing the gospel around the globe reverberates at her alma mater, Hardin-Simmons, where she endowed a chair of missions and provided the key gift for the Connally Missions Center. HSU named her a distinguished alumna in 1973; bestowed its highest honor, the Keeter Award, in 1981; and awarded her an honorary doctorate in 1989.

Beyond her accomplishments, Virginia is a mentor and personal role model because of the way she approaches life.

When she was 94, she decided to attend the upcoming New Baptist Covenant, a multiracial reconciliation gathering to be held in the mammoth Georgia World Congress Center in Atlanta. So, she moved her bedroom to the second floor of her home. “I figured climbing the stairs several times a day would build up my legs, and then getting around in Atlanta would be no problem,” she explained.

Still, even at 100, Virginia always is learning. Her home brims with books. Her conversation overflows with new ideas she gleans from those books, as well as opinions on current events around the globe, plus thoughts on living a faithful Christian life in a complex and demanding world.

Practically everyone who knows Virginia has stories to tell about paying her a visit and leaving with one or more books—copies of the same ones she was reading—she gave them.

And every visit I’ve ever shared with Virginia ended with prayer, because she knows God not only gives life, but a relationship with God is what makes life worth living.

Her energy and can-do spirit, her insatiable curiosity and quest for learning, and her vibrant relationship with the Lord keep her young at heart.

Even—or especially—now that she’s 100.

"Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious, I will give some of the hidden manna" (Revelation 2:17).

With the way we run around looking for fulfillment, it seems the Rolling Stones are right. We definitely “can’t get no satisfaction.”

We look for fulfillment everywhere—in friendships and dating, in careers and paychecks, in hobbies and food. “Snickers really satisfies,” after all. Our desire for satisfaction seems to be boundless.

Our longings for fulfillment are easy to spot, too. They are summed up with the phrase “If only ….” If only I lived in that neighborhood over there. If only I had a better job, a new car, faster Internet and an iPad mini, all my problems would be solved. If only. Unfortunately, our “If onlys” leave us always hungry and thirsty for more.

But these are petty longings, and we know that, because we are really longing for more than temporal fulfillment. As U2 put it,

I have climbed the highest mountains, I have run through the fields …
I have run, I have crawled, I have scaled these city walls …
Only to be with you.
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.

After all our searching, what we really want is still out there somewhere. Like the Samaritan woman at the well, we beg Jesus, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water” (John 4:14).

When this plain-looking man we call “Sir” says he is living water, we’re again like the Samaritan woman and look at Jesus saying, “Sir, you have nothing to draw (water) with, and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water (you promise)?” (John 4:11).

We’ve looked for fulfillment here and can’t find it anywhere. We long for something more than what this world can offer. So, when the promise comes to us in the form of a cute, little baby, we run to the cradle expecting fulfillment at long last, only to find some manna in a manger.

As the Israelites made their way through the wilderness, they grumbled about their unfulfilled hunger. Even the meager fare of Egypt was better in their minds than what they found in the wilderness. Back in Egypt, their pots full of meat sure beat whatever they were able to scrape together in the harsh and barren land in which they wandered. They grumbled, and God heard their grumbling and sent bread from heaven, and they called it manna.

Manna wasn’t all that special, really, beyond its miraculous appearance on the ground most mornings. You couldn’t keep it longer than a single day, except the weekends when, somehow, it kept two days. And it always tasted faintly of honey, day after day after day.

Jesus is like that manna. We expect him to be more …. substantial, someone with glitz and glamour and a handsome face. We expect a strong and charismatic leader with eloquent speech. We expect displays of power and presence. Instead, we get a nondescript baby. We get a broken Savior. We get manna.

And if we turn away from this manna, we will never be fulfilled.

“I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, yet they died. But here is the bread that comes down from heaven, which anyone may eat and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever” (John 6:48-51).

But will we know it when we see it? Will we know him when we see him?

When the Israelites grumbled for a substantial meal, they never imagined God would provide white, flaky stuff. Having never seen that white, flaky stuff before, they asked, “What is it?”

When Jesus was born and heralded as the promised son of David, the natural reaction seemed to be like what William Dix described in his poem:

What Child is this, who, laid to rest
On Mary’s lap, is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet,
While shepherds watch are keeping?

When Jesus grew up and started teaching, many asked: “Who is that? Isn’t he the carpenter’s son? Isn’t he one of us?”

When Jesus hung on the cross under a sign that declared him “King of the Jews,” most scoffed, saying, “What is this, a petty criminal, a religious fanatic a king?!”

Even today, when Jesus stands before us as the fulfillment of everything we long for, we see him as something so uninspiring as manna. “God, we were serious when we asked for more than this life has to offer, and this is what you send us, someone just as hungry and thirsty as us?”

Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches.

Yes, God sent us manna, for manna is as much a test now as it was then. Would the Israelites humble themselves or allow pride to take over? Would they rely on God? Would they obey God?

In the same way, when Jesus comes—in the words of the Apostle Paul—as a servant, humble and obedient even unto death, we are faced with the same temptation and test. Is Jesus really enough, or will we look for something more sophisticated, more tantalizing? Will we humble ourselves? Will we rely on him? Will we obey him?

This Advent season, as you long for fulfillment, do not be offended by a simple-looking man but instead find satisfaction in Jesus Christ, knowing that life comes not from bread alone but from the Word who comes from God.

Eric Black is pastor of First Baptist Church of Covington, Texas.

People emphasize “leadership” so much, it has become a buzzword. Isn’t it past time we focus on “followship”?

I recently read Colin Powell’s book, It Worked for Me: In Life and Leadership. Most of Powell’s observations are better suited to military or corporate environments, although he does offer some ideas that can help any pastor or church member who loves the church.

{mosimage}Among Baptists, unlike military or corporate contexts, leadership does not automatically come with position. In a healthy church, leadership is not seized; rather, it is granted by the people. Members of the church gravitate toward people they believe have the best interests of the church at heart. There are no leaders without followers, and in a Baptist church, the followers choose the leader. As Joel Gregory says, “One of the hallmarks of Baptist life is the people in the pew choose the person in the pulpit.” Ideally, believers recognize a benevolent and visionary spirit, and they reject a heavy-handed or self-centered vision.

In other words, the leader can lead from different positions—the front of the group, the middle or the back. The leader experiences the sense of being a leader-follower differently from each perspective. Examples of Christ’s leadership with his disciples illustrate each position.

I hear from young pastors who are ready to confront or isolate lay leaders who are obstacles to the pastor’s vision for the church. These “obstacle” people probably have supporters who will follow the “obstacle” people more quickly than the pastor. For pastors who think they must “lead from the front,” the situation becomes adversarial quickly. The young pastor finds the situation untenable and either leaves of her or his own volition or becomes a terminated-ministers statistic.

There is a reason the church has looked to those particular laypeople for leadership. Perhaps their standing comes from a long tradition, their likeability, their place in the community or genuine care for the church. But there is a reason the people who may frustrate the pastor have been granted leadership within the church.

My advice is to begin working with those who have been recognized by the church. Come alongside those who have been granted leadership. Earn their trust. Bring your visions together. Make your concerns their concerns. And if you are really fortunate, they will convince the church your vision was their idea all along.

In the process the pastor will find her or his leadership positions changing variously from the front, to the middle and to behind. All the while, the congregation notices the pastor is willing to negotiate and can be teachable, even be a follower. The congregation will begin to pick up on that dynamic as well, becoming leaders-followers themselves.

Stacy Conner, pastor

First Baptist Church, Muleshoe

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.