Tag: Celebrate Recovery

Vinyl Pops on the Ipod

It’s a mellow ending to a great day. Celebrate Recovery had 73 people, and now the church is empty. Stan Getz is swinging on my Ipod via Pandora Internet Radio. The hiss of the vinyl is as clear as the breathy slur of his low notes through the tenor sax. The Lord is in his holy temple, and his servant is groovin’ at the Mac.

It’s the irony of it all I find most entertaining. My 21st Century notebook has the same qwerty keyboard arrangement as typewriters from the 1800s, when the clumsy pattern was designed to slow down typing on the sluggish mechanical machines. Music recorded direct to disk in the 1940s and 1950s sounds as scratchy on that little ipod speaker as it ever did on a dusty record.

Children, music used to be stored not on websites, nor on laser discs, but as a squiggly groove running around a vinyl platter. The platter would spin with a needle riding in that groove, and the music played. As amazing as it was that a plastic impression could be turned into sound through a needle and an amp, it was even more amazing to skip the amp and listen to the music through a straight pin in a paper cup.

A few nights ago, I was playing with a 30-something-to-40-ish musician in a combo. When someone suggested that the song reminded them of Bob Dylan, my friend said, “Bob Dylan? Who’s that?” I think/hope it was a joke, meant to imply the speaker was too young to remember such an ancient celebrity. I assure you, Bob Dylan is alive and well, and still bragging about his fondness for Woody Guthrie. He’s older than me, but I’m not ashamed to say he was top 40 when I was mid-teens.

There is no shame in understanding ancient things. I play saxophones that are older than I am, on hymns written long before the sax was invented. And when the power goes out, my bass fiddle can still rock the house.

There is also no shame in understanding new things. A ranting Eminem reminds me more than anything of a bebopping Charlie Parker. Those who forget the past are cursed to repeat it, but those who understand the past have the same option, and it can also be a blessing.

Jesus said that the man who understands the gospel is like a homeowner who pulls from his storehouse treasures both old and new. He said no one puts new wine in old bottles or sews a new patch on old cloth. In the first case, the new wine is wasted; in the other, the old garment is ruined. The parable is not about merely encouraging the new, but about preserving the old as well.

I never heard of Don Byas. His music is new to me, but the song I’m enjoying was recorded in 1952. Now it’s Dizzy Gillespie — I remember him. He broke through on trumpet in the 1940s and was still performing in the 1990s. Miles Davis replaced Gillespie in Charlie Parker’s band, but Davis was still considered a contemporary artist 40 years after Parker’s death.

There really is nothing new under the sun. It’s been a long day, and what a thrill to enjoy old music on a new techno gadget. Eminem’s rap is stored by the Library of Congress on vinyl 78’s, because unlike magnetic and digital medium, those records can survive a serious nuclear blast and still be heard using a sharp stick and a gourd.

Don’t know what I’m talking about? Your loss. Just remember, treasures old and new are equally treasures. Time to log off and drive the pickup home. In times like these, I wish I had a horse to feed when I get there. You see, we possess more than the scope of subjects we master, acres of land or square feet of floor space. We also possess years of experience, whether studied or lived directly, and the treasures of years gone by are more valuable than ever, like vinyl pops on an Ipod.

The Wages of Sin

“For the wages of sin is death” … the evidence surrounds us. It shows itself in pelicans struggling under a coating of oil, arteries blocked by a layer of cholesterol, highways littered with the aftermath of driver distractions and impairments.

A special curse settles around those who think that life is fair and we all deserve what we get. Consider the pelican. This swamp of “sin” that we so cautiously label flows over the innocent and the guilty alike. Each generation’s innocent vice has a legacy in its mortality statistics. Believe it or not, the wages of sin is death.

To me, the equation is a definition. “Sin” is sin because it leads to death. Thus the sin of eating pork falls to cooking technology, only to rise again with enlightened dietary guidelines. The nuances of Mosaic Law are lost as the plague loses steam or the mode of transmission shifts.

Too many people have been driven from church by the concept of a kill-party God, a Deity somehow offended by the concept of human enjoyment. Others fail to see the mercy of Christ in so-called followers who delight in declaring, “I told you so!” Still others see the death that comes from practices and attitudes that believers might excuse as not specifically prohibited.

Addiction recovery was underground at my church. AA meetings were held at arms’ length, happening off to the side, after hours. There was, and still is, a subset of members who “tried one” cup of coffee, never touched a cigarette and settled down with one lifelong partner. But even in that subset, every family has someone who’s doctor shopping for pain pills, babying an overtaxed liver or taking a sabbatical in rehab.

I had a friend, a soaring violinist, the equal of any concert musician I’ve ever heard. He played at my installation service. Despite his humility and encouragement of others, there was no disguising his talent, that it was head-and-shoulders above anything else in the room.

My friend was both a Christian and a “Christian.” He was active in another, more conservative church, one with exacting standards for deacons and membership. He was a member in good standing, probably a deacon, a good boy in Sunday School.

My friend died of an overdose of inhalants. We never knew. He had been sober for years, a 12-step soldier in NA for years. He was also a non-participant for many more years of sobriety — and a few weeks of relapse.

It has been said that AA and 12-step recovery programs are the biggest development in western spirituality since the Protestant Reformation. Luther rejected the Pope; 12-steppers rejected religion in all its trappings, including the priesthood. It’s truly a priesthood of believers in a Higher Power that goes unlabeled, peer-to-peer ministry, sinner-to-sinner therapy. If you want to talk spirituality with Boomers and X-ers, you’ll find common ground with more people quoting the Big Book than quoting scripture.

But a funny thing happens on the way to sober living. All this Higher Power talk leads some people back to the faith of their fathers. Jesus takes on the Higher Power role and does a darned good job of it. The bad news is that the church and Sunday School take on the role of small groups, with mixed results. Too often, the pastor becomes the sponsor without knowing what the sponsee has been through.

My friend found a church, but he lost touch with his recovery community. He had no sponsor to call, no meeting to attend where he could confess his sins and find absolution. So he fell off the wagon and died.

The wages of sin is death. That doesn’t mean that my friend deserved to die. Nor was it entirely his sin that caused this death. Some people knew and said nothing — can’t embarrass my friend in front of the church, can we? Some chose to ignore the telltale signs of intoxication; others were relieved when he started skipping the worship service. Still others survived similar struggles in their own lives and kept them hidden, trying to fit in with the never-a-sip, never-a-puff sainthood.

Sins all around, and their wages is death.

About half of my hospice deathbed vigils have been with people who were too young to die but too burdened by addiction to carry on. My generation knew that our drug of choice was slightly better than tobacco and booze, then translated “less harmful” to read “harmless.” Our children listened and found their own intoxicants. People who were too embarrassed to ask the pastor for a good rehab center have nowhere else to turn for a decent memorial service.

Morality for me is a matter of life and death, but that’s again definitional. It isn’t about impressing me, or God, for that matter, or honoring God by hitting some arbitrary, ceremonial standard. It’s about living another day.

Oh, no, we don’t talk about these things. What’s the big deal about putting a buzz on? “Be careful that the exercise of your freedom does not become a stumbling block to the weak.” I’ve shredded my buzz permit for the sake of those who think if I can do it, it must be ok. Because for them, if not for me, it might cause trouble.

My friend is honored every week at a fellowship meal. The meal follows six simultaneous small group meetings, which follow an hour of worship and 12-step lessons or testimony. No one is put down for their particular “sin” because all of us have sinned. Recovering addicts find a safe worship environment where they aren’t led into temptation by those who take lightly the power of “sin.”

And those teatotalers? They’re learning to speak 12-step, to turn their lives over to a Higher Power, to accept people as they are. We learn that redemption is real, that no one is scarred for life.

“… but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Where wrath, judgment, prejudice and the Law have failed us, the grace, mercy and humility of Christ prevail. Love does indeed cover a multitude of sins!

Lion of Judah, King of Israel

I preached this sermon on October 29, 2006, and guess what — the vision came true! A 53-year-old church still satisfies even charter members with traditional worship, draws young families with contemporary worship and children’s church, and builds a new community on a recovery ministry. With 150-200 worshipers on Sunday and 60-90 at Celebrate Recovery, Tropical Sands Christian Church thrives because the old supports the new — and vice versa! The premise is simple: If you want to settle down in the grasslands of Judah, you have to help the other tribes take the Promised Land!

The Bible is our story. It is not merely a story about the children of Israel, because all people are basically the same. We all have the same passions, potential and shortcomings. The Bible is not just a book of history, because people haven’t really changed much in the last 8,000 years. Adultery, thievery, murder, and, yes, bravery, intelligence and faithfulness, are no more or less common in the book of Genesis, than they are today.

The Bible is the inspired message of God to mankind, for all generations. The writer of Hebrews illustrates this with a thousand-year-old Psalm that looked back six centuries to a timeless truth. That truth applies as well today as it did 2,000 years ago. Let’s hear the Word of the LORD.

So then, as the Holy Spirit says, “If you hear God’s voice today, do not be stubborn, as your ancestors were when they rebelled against God, as they were that day in the desert when they put him to the test. There they put me to the test and tried me, says God, although they had seen what I did for forty years. And so I was angry with those people and said, ‘They are always disloyal and refuse to obey my commands.’ I was angry and made a solemn promise: ‘They will never enter the land where I would have given them rest.'”

My fellow believers, be careful that no one among you has a heart so evil and unbelieving that he will turn away from the living God. Instead, in order that none of you be deceived by sin and become stubborn, you must help one another every day, as long as the word “Today” in the scripture applies to us. For we are all partners with Christ if we hold firmly to the end the confidence we had at the beginning.

— Hebrews 3:7-14 (GNB)

So what is the story being told here? In Numbers, Chapter 13, When Moses led the children of Israel to the Jordan River, they sent spies across to search out the Promised Land. The spies come back saying yes, it’s a great place, everything God said it would be. But the people who live there are giants, and we are like grasshoppers in their eyes. Joshua and Caleb said no, we’re strong enough, and the LORD has promised us that land. The people rebelled, and in his anger God swore that generation would never enter the land. That generation lost the promise because of hard hearts and a lack of faith. Instead, they went back to the desert and roamed like nomads for 40 years.

600 years later, the writer of Psalm 95 repeated the story to say that God still had a promise for the people, and that they could hear His voice and seize the promise, or reject it out of fear and return to the desert.

The Psalmist and the writer of Hebrews, are telling us that throughout history, there’s a promise of God to be fulfilled, and God will punish those who rejected His promise. Fulfill the promise, or spend decades in the desert.

In 1958, Tropical Sands Christian Church was chartered to spread the Gospel and make Disciples in northern Palm Beach County. We could have said, no, the housing costs are enormous there! We like it right where we are. We’ll never make it! But we didn’t say that. We obeyed God, we crossed the Jordan River and took the Promised Land. And for 48 years, we’ve been living in the Promised Land. But the Word of God remains true as long as it is called Today. There were other Promised Lands along the way — new locations, new ministries, and new pastors. And since it is still called Today, there must be Promised Lands to seize today as well.

In 1958, this church had 50 active members. Now, it has about 90 active members. At one time, we had close to 200. Did we fail to cross the Jordan River when we let our youth program fall to the wayside? Did we fail to cross the Jordan River when we stuck with old programs and lesson plans that suit us fine but failed to speak to the next generation? Are we failing to cross the Jordan River when we let our elderly miss church because their eyesight fails and their licenses expire? We do a great job of feeding ourselves, but aren’t we supposed to be feeding others as well? From where I stand, we are once again looking across the Jordan River. We have another chance to reach baby boomers, another chance to reach young adults, and an opportunity to keep seniors active longer. Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts.

We have a Celebrate Recovery program starting next year, and we all know that a lot of us Baby Boomers and Generation-X’ers are either doing drugs or trying to kick the habit. Is that a Promised Land we’re ready to take, or just a program for those other people? We have a young adult program going on Sunday afternoons, and we all know how those young adults like to rock-n-roll and get creative. Is that a Promised Land we’re ready to take, or just another distraction from the real service? We’re trying to keep our contemporary service going Sunday evenings. Is that a Promised Land we’re willing to fight for, or just another tick on the electric bill? We have half-empty cars driving by seniors in need every Sunday morning. Is ride-sharing a Promised Land we can seize, or a nuisance that doesn’t fit our busy schedules?

Looking over Jordan to the Promised Land, I see a church with 150 people every Sunday mornings, a few dozen every afternoon and 50 or 60 every Sunday night. In the Promised Land, we have a lot of kids running through the halls, a packed house every Tuesday night and more teenagers hanging around than we can keep up with. In the Promised Land, we stop on the way to church and share the ride with our brothers and sisters.

To me, that looks like the Promised Land. To a lot of you, it looks like the church you had 20 or 30 years ago. Let’s at least agree that it is not the church we have today — not anymore — and not yet.

“Today, if you hear His voice, do not harden your hearts…” A soft heart looks for ways to share the Gospel with more people. A hard heart says I’ve got my church, and that’s all that matters. Some of us may have hard hearts, and others might not hear God’s voice. But there’s another issue that might have us stuck in the 80-plus bracket. Maybe we’re just so happy where we are that we don’t want to cross the Jordan River!

There’s a parallel to that one, too. In Numbers chapter 32, after 40 years in the desert, the children of Israel came back to the river Jordan. The tribes of Gad and Ruben and the half-tribe of Manasseh came to Moses and said, “You know, the land over here is pretty good, too. There’s plenty of grazing land, and we have a lot of cattle. What say we just settle in over here and let the rest of you take the Promised Land.”

Moses warned them about what happened last time, so they came up with a good plan. They said, “Not only will we help the others take the Promised Land, we’ll lead the charge.” That suited Moses and God just fine. And that is why we’ve heard of the land of Israel and the land of Judah. The children of Israel took both sides of the Jordan River, Israel on the west and Judah on the east.

Some of us are looking across the Jordan River, and we see souls to be saved for Christ. There’s a battle to be waged, because it is going to take work to launch Celebrate Recovery, to kick our youth program up a notch, and to make Sunday night a viable service. But some of us like things just fine the way they are; we don’t want to change and don’t need to work any harder to have the friendly little church we want. We’re perfectly content to settle down where we are, on this side of the Jordan River.

“For we are all partners with Christ if we hold firmly to the end the confidence we had at the beginning.” What was that confidence we had in the beginning, way back in 1958? That we could win souls for Christ! Are we holding firmly to that confidence, or have we changed the game plan? If we are still partners with Christ, then our focus must be spreading the Gospel and making Disciples.

Like Judah and Israel, the East and West banks of the Jordan River. We can have new members, new ministries, new services, and still have our Sunday morning service just like it is. But if we don’t take the Promised Land, if we don’t serve God with new members and new services, then we will fade like so many churches that have died out before us. If we want to hold on to the green pastures here in Judah, we have to take the Promised Land as well.

It’s an interesting problem, but a promising solution. If we’re content with church exactly like it is, then we have to help it grow. Otherwise, our earning power won’t keep up with our expenses. But if we use the strength we have, the strength of our resources, ideas and talent, we can hold onto everything we love about church and still open the doors for more people and new Disciples.

On the other hand, if we just abandon what we have for something new, we won’t be strong enough to go for it. We won’t have the talent, or the resources, or the ideas we need to make it happen. We can’t take the Promised Land without the tribes of Judah, and we can’t keep Judah unless we take the Promised Land!

We are strong enough to grow Sunday Morning, and launch Celebrate Recovery, and revamp our Youth Program, and grow our Sunday Night service, and maybe ramp up our elderly ministries, too. The question is, are we willing? Is everyone going to pitch in and help? Is everyone going to latch onto the vision? The vision is not a threat to what we have; it is the salvation of what we have!

I think that’s what Jesus was saying when He said that the one who has will get more, and the one who has not will lose even what he has. When it comes to church, it’s use it or lose it. Use it to save souls, or lose it to time and the wrecking ball.

Jesus said that the tree that bares fruit will be cared for so that it bares even more fruit, but the tree that bares no fruit will be pulled up and burned. Will we bare fruit? Will we grow, and add new ministries? We can do this with faith, courage and effort. And not only can we, we must. Those of us who love it here in Judah must lead the charge to take the Promised Land of Israel.

Today, if you hear His voice — the roar of the Lion of Judah, and the commands of the King of Israel — do not harden your hearts. Bare fruit. Lead the charge. Take the Promised Land.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Joel Tucker

Epilog, 2010: Our traditional church Elders serve dinner each Tuesday at Celebrate Recovery, and they love it! We have a nursery full of babies on Sundays and Tuesdays, and a growing teen group on Wednesday nights. Sunday morning rocks at 8:30; at 10, we don the choir robes and crank up the organ. The financial struggle has turned into expansion plans to make more classrooms and youth activity space. My plea: Stop trying to scrap one generation for the next. Instead, remind your church of its mission — to win souls — and give them ideas for how to support the next “tribe.” (It helps to remind them that the next tribe will help pay the bills.) I’m telling you, this Bible stuff really works!