"YOU LIE!"

Congressman Joe Wilson of South Carolina raised some eye brows -- and not a little dander -- last week with his now infamous ejaculation, "You lie!" shouted at President Obama in the middle of his nationally televised health care reform speech in the Capitol. In America, this sort of uncivil outburst is still thought to be rude, crude and socially unacceptable. People on both sides of the political aisle rightfully expressed outrage, and the House of Representatives formally reprimanded him yesterday -- although not without bipartisan posturing.

My view is that, no matter what the political affiliation, no matter whether one agrees or disagrees with the president, this sort of temperamental outburst is out of line in a civil democracy and needs to be confronted. It was exceedingly disrespectful. Even if Mr. Wilson were right and the president was lying -- and I'm certainly not saying he was -- but even if it were plain to most everyone that a fabrication or misrepresentation had been uttered, it still would be simply wrong to do what the congressman did. I don't know if he is a Christian man or not, but I do know that the Word of God teaches Christians to pray for those in authority, including kings and national leaders -- like presidents -- and to honor them, not excoriate them.

But now, just for second ... let's imagine such an unrestrained expression of opinion occurring in another socially unacceptable letting -- say, in church. Imagine a preacher telling a story about himself that he has "borrowed" from another preacher's sermon -- and thus it wasn't about himself at all, of course, but about the other preacher. In other words, he has given no credit to the other preacher; it was a pure fabrication about something that supposedly happened to him. Now, imagine a church member listening to this story, who knows it was stolen from another preacher, suddenly shouting out from his seat in the auditorium, "You lie!" I'm sure the ushers would promptly escort the obviously demon-possessed man out of the church, but it certainly would leave an impression, wouldn't it?

I remember hearing a preacher give a sermon to a packed house in an extremely large venue once. He told a story about an encounter he had with a crazy person at his church office. However, I later discovered the source of his sermon (i.e., his stolen sermon), and learned that the story actually happened to another preacher. I sometimes wonder if I had known the truth about the purloined story ahead of time, would I, in uncontrolled emotion, have shouted out from my seat, "YOU LIE!"?

Probably not. It would have been rude, crude and socially unacceptable. Simply wrong. But ... it does make me smile now to imagine it.

For Evan, Upon the Occasion of His Graduation from Seminary

Our son, Evan, completed all requirements for his Master of Arts degree in Theology from Fuller Theological Seminary in December 2008. On June 12th, the family traveled to Pasadena, accompanied by Evan's good friend, Nebyou Berhe, for the commencement ceremony held on Saturday the 13th. The event was held at the large and beautiful Lake Avenue Congregational Church, which was filled to overflowing with graduates, faculty and guests. It rained during the night and morning before we left the motel we were staying at to head over to the church (extremely rare for Pasadena in mid-June!). Fortunately, it had let up by the time we arrived at 8:45, which meant we had over an hour to park the car a couple of blocks away and get inside the packed house to find a seat before the 10 a.m. start time.

The two-plus-hour ceremony was carefully planned and well executed. One of the highlights for me (besides hearing Evan's name called and seeing him walk across the stage to receive his diploma from President Mouw), was the congregational singing of a couple of great anthems of the church accompanied by Lake Avenue's monstrous pipe organ -- certainly one of the most moving and meaningful worship experiences in recent years for me. We were filled with pride and gratitude as Evan marked with a stamp of closure this educational chapter of his life begun nearly three years ago.

In December, shortly after Evan had finished his coursework and moved back to Fresno, I wrote a short piece that I read at a celebration in his honor with family and friends on New Year's Eve. Here is what I read:

One score, six and a half years ago, a wee lad named Evan came forth in Upland, California:
The first of two “blessed events” to grace the Christensen household.
With his tiny sis, Lindsey, entering the world, prematurely, 21 months later,
He assumed the role of “Big Brother.”

Evan’s bright eyes and congenial disposition were immediately apparent.
His creative mind and compassionate nature would soon become evident.
Not to mention his offbeat sense of humor,
His love of words,
And his mechanical inclination (remember the Mousetrap game?)

He hardly could sit still while watching a program on television –
Not that he lost interest or couldn’t contain his energy –
But, along with the actors on the screen Evan had to perform the story himself –
his own version that played out in his head –
Adding embellishments and flourishes where needed, of course!

The time came to go to kindergarten. All dressed up, hair combed slick, lunch box in hand,
We watched him march to class like a little soldier with his new teacher and friends –
We, with misty eyes – and Evan, with eyes straight ahead, who didn’t look back.
And, boy, he didn’t look back! He went to school, every day (I mean every day – almost never missed a day, ever!)
And he proved to be quite the young scholar.

It seemed but a few weeks – but was really 13 years – when he graduated from high school.
And then it was another week – but actually 3 ½ years – when he graduated from college.
And now, but a mere blink, and the past two years in seminary have raced by.

There he learned much, grew amazingly in mind and spirit, and made new lifelong friends.
And he now returns to “old” lifelong friends,
And to his “old” family,
And to new friends yet to be made.
And to exciting new opportunities and adventures ahead,
And to new stories to see in his head . . . and then, perhaps, to reduce to film,
And to new ways to bless others with his great knowledge and even greater heart,
And to laughter, and tears, and to plenty of cheers (for the Dodgers, of course!).

Evan, we are proud of you for this wonderful achievement,
And look forward to what the good Lord has in store for your future.
May He bless and keep you, now and always,
As He has done this past one score, six and half years.

Interesting Coincidences

Last Wednesday, my wife Glenda decided it was time to take her car to the auto shop to have her driver's side power window fixed. It had been frozen in the rolled up position since last fall, and, with the heat of summer on the way, she thought she might need to actually roll her window down once in a while.

So, I followed behind her to our favorite mechanic, Charlie, of "Charlie Auto" (yes, there is no apostrophe "s" in the name) at 7 am. Our plan was to drop her car off, drive my car to my work place and drop me off, and Glenda would take my car to her work, then come get me at the end of my work day. A bit of a pain, as car repairs always are, but a simple enough plan.

The first part of the plan went smoothly: we pulled into Charlie's place and explained what needed to be done. He advised it might be a costly repair as the door would need to come off and a motor be replaced, but, oh, well-- it needed to be done. Glenda jumped in my car with me and off we headed toward my work place. But first, I decided to swing into the gas station as the tank was almost on "E." I paid at the pump, filled the tank, slid back in behind the wheel, put the key in to start 'er up and ... nothing. I mean nothing! The battery was dead as a doornail.

Now, the first interesting coincidence occurred. I had noticed while filling the tank that there was a bright yellow pickup parked next to us getting its thirsty tank refilled at the same time. We were doing this at almost exactly the same pace, so that, when I got back in my car, the pickup driver was about to wrap up his refueling. I'm turning the key a couple of times, realizing my battery is dead, just as this guy is stepping back into his pickup. I quickly decided to ask for his help because, you see, incredibly (what I haven't mentioned), in big bold letters on the side of his truck were the letters "AAA," underneath the official logo of the Automobile Association of America, and neatly printed on the rear side panel were the words "Battery Service." At first he could hardly believe somebody's car had died next to him at the gas station, but he quickly swung his truck around in front of mine, hood-to-hood, and had me jump started within about 30 seconds of my plea for help. He jotted down my Triple A membership info and we were done with the whole business in about 75 seconds.

But now, I know I've got a bad battery that we had to take care of right away. I drove the half-mile back to Charlie Auto. Glenda's car was already in the garage when we arrived, and Charlie right away came over to tell us he got the window to work with a little WD-40 -- it was apparently just stuck shut. That should save us a couple hundred bucks, I thought. I explained that I needed a new battery, and while he was at it, would he please check out the "Service Engine Soon" dummy light that had been on for some time. I would leave my car with Charlie for the day and go with Glenda in her car now. They pulled her car out of the garage, stopped the engine while we finished with the work order, and then we hopped in to resume our trip to my place of work. Glenda put in the key, turned it and ... you guessed it -- nothing! Her battery was dead now -- suddenly and without warning!

I've lived a fairly long time on the planet. This is the first time in my memory that batteries of two cars in the family household had gone dead on the same day, within minutes of each other. And, of course, here we were at the auto shop where help was immediately available. Granted, they had to send out for the particular size battery Glenda's car needed, and we ended up having to drive my car to work after all, but that's no biggie.

So here's the bottom line: It was apparently the day both our batteries were going to go dead. If we had followed our normal routine, mine would have died in the parking lot of my work place, four miles from home, and Glenda's would have died in the parking lot of her work place, six miles from home and nearly the same distance from my work place. Instead, my battery dies next to a Triple-A battery service truck, and Glenda's dies at Charlie Auto. Yes, it cost me $241.53 that I didn't plan on spending that day, but compared to the headache, hassle, and overall pain in the kiester that could have been, I was happy to pay it.

After all this, I still got to work 15 minutes early that day. I told the story to a couple of colleagues. One of them said, "You were really lucky!" Yes, I suppose one could say it was a "lucky" sequence of events -- or perhaps "coincidences." Or, were they? Is it possible that a living God -- "the God who is there," to use Francis Shaeffer's term -- who according to the Bible cares even for the sparrows of the air and the flowers of the field, actually cares for an unworthy creature like me and condescends, according to his purpose and pleasure, to reveal that he is and cares? I'll leave that to the reader to ponder.

"Of course," some may say, "you indeed are quite an unworthy creature ... but not your lovely wife!" And they would have me there.

The Problem With Sermon Stealing

I know I've been beating a dead horse (to use a terrible word picture!), but I've a little more to say about sermon stealing. Here's the thing: I know that preachers today feel overworked, and they're under pressure to challenge, comfort, enlighten and entertain their congregations week after week, 52 weeks a year -- minus a few Sundays for vacations, conferences, etc. -- and I know the work of ministry is often stressfully demanding. I'm sympathetic. And I know that full-text sermons are readily available and plentiful online, and most people in the pews (er, that's an old word for the long benches people used to sit on at church) would probably never know if their pastor spent 20 hours laboring to prepare his or her own message, or 20 minutes to locate and download a prefab gem from the web. Is it easy to justify sermon "borrowing"? You bet it is.

But, on the other side of the coin is this: If the pastor doesn't disclose the borrowing, it's creating the false impression that he has composed the message from his own head and heart. When you create a false impression about something you're offering to the Lord for the benefit of the others, it's the same thing Ananias and Sapphira did in the first-century church. And we know what God thought about their dishonesty (see Acts 5:1-11)!

Sermon borrowing, done consistently (like my previous pastor did -- see my April 10 post) raises all sorts of other questions. For example, just what is he doing with his time? This pastor lived a secretive existence. Not only was he unaccountable to the congregation as a whole, he felt no need to be accountable to his own church staff. Whether he was on campus or not was supposedly no one's business. He rarely even attended pastoral staff meetings. He was out of the pulpit 15 or 16 Sundays a year, and, most times, no one knew where he was. On top of this, he stole all his sermons, taking them from various sources, such as from the web site of a prominent Baptist preacher in Texas, or from the teaching pastors at the largest church in our particular denomination. After a while, for fun, I made it my mission to locate the sources of his sermons, and often printed them out and took them with me to church to follow along!

So it really made me wonder, just what was this pastor doing with his time? It's possible that he worked hard for his very, very substantial salary, but if he did, I never knew it in my nearly 11 years as a member there.

Habitual sermon stealing leaves a preacher susceptible to spiritual emptiness since he hasn't regularly nourished himself through the disciplined effort involved in studying the Word and writing the message. His messages do not flow from a soul refreshed by the waters of the Spirit. If the shepherd is malnourished and unrefreshed, with what can he feed and refresh the sheep?

There's much more that can be said, and has been said very well by other writers, on this subject that so few people care about. In America, we have gotten so used to dishonest politicians, cheating athletes, pilfering business executives, and immoral religious leaders, that we have a hard time caring if the pastor gets outside "help" for his sermons.

But, I don't think I'm alone in my concern. A lot has been written on the subject by other, much better, writers, both present and past. In a future spell-binding post, I will share some of that with you.

On Stolen Sermons

My family and I were members of an anonymous megachurch here in Clovis for a number of years before it came to our attention that the anonymous pastor, an eloquent, good-looking young man adored by many for his brilliant, funny, "biblical" sermons, preached the material of other pastors. In fact, every sermon he preached was stolen. Sure, he would always tweak them a little -- leaving out an illustration here, adding one there -- but the main points, the outline, and most of the illustrations and supporting material, were all "borrowed."

When this came to light, and one of the junior pastors on staff lost his job over it, the pastor decided to come clean with the rest of the staff, but not the congregation as a whole. He admitted that he couldn't preach if he had to actually compose his own sermons. Now, one would think he would make some changes -- maybe confess to the congregation from the pulpit, maybe begin giving credit for borrowed messages, maybe even stop the practice and at least try to create his own. But, no. None of this happened. He kept on preaching stolen sermons and, to my knowledge, does so to this day, some 13 years into his tenure with the church.

It's been a little astounding for me to discover that few people see anything wrong with a pastor preaching other pastors' sermons -- even week after week, and without giving credit. The attitude of many in the pews could be summarized like this: "I'm fed, edified, entertained, challenged [or whatever] by the pastor's messages, and people are being 'led to Jesus,' so, come on, lighten up! What difference does it make?" The prevailing ethic in pragmatic, 21st century America, is, if it works, it must be good. The end justifies the means. Questions about whether something should be done take a back seat to whether it can be done.

Yet there is clearly a double standard in play here. Keep in mind that, in your profession or at your workplace, if you were to constantly “produce,” “create,” or “design” things someone else had produced, designed, or created – without giving credit – if you were caught you could, just possibly, suffer adverse consequences. Your boss/board/stockholders/etc. might not be favorably impressed with this practice. They might believe you were cheating, or at best, slacking in your work.

I wrote an article on this subject of sermon stealing that was published in the Christian Standard, a national periodical, in October 2005. I titled it, "Integrity in the Pulpit." The responses by readers were as interesting as they were varied. One reader who registered a dissenting opinion wrote, "My attitude on this issue goes back to my homiletics class in Bible college. Our professor would regularly give us outlines of his own sermons (or at least I have always assumed they were his) to illustrate the type of sermon we were studying. One of my classmates asked if we should give him credit for an outline if we used it. His reply was, 'No, if anyone asks, just say the Lord provides.' That pretty well sums up my attitude on both utilizing sermon material from others and in giving my material to others."

The Lord provides? Hmm. In other words, this Tennessee pastor is saying that, if someone says it's all right to use their material without attribution, go ahead -- there's nothing wrong with it. I guess this is morality by popular consent. And then, as if to thumb his nose at the arcane notion of pulpit plagiarism being somehow "wrong," he went on to invite preachers to freely use his material without attribution. A noble gesture, indeed.

But I can't help returning to the morality of the "secular" and "godless" university and news media that says that using others' intellectual material without giving proper citation is dishonest. It is cheating and stealing. And when a pastor of a Christian Church does it -- continually and without remorse -- it makes one wonder about his moral fitness to shepherd the people of God under his care. At the very least, doesn't it make you wonder how he's using his time to earn his salary? His perhaps six-figure salary?