Thoughts, lectures, sermons, and course downloads for my students.
Posted on Tuesday, July 15th, 2008 at 7:30 pm
For sermons on Matthew before chapter 14 look for the other pages of Matthew Sermons.
The Preacher Who Lost His Head 02 Matt 14-1-13 John the Baptist.mp3
When God Shows Up for Lunch Matthew 14-13.mp3
When You Get That Sinking Feeling Matt 14-22-33.mp3
How is Your Heart? Matthew 15:1-2002 Matthew 15-1.mp3
Posted on Thursday, August 28th, 2008 at 3:29 pm
One of the great thrills in my life is seeing the students that I have worked with go on to become successful. I have been asked a few times to speak at a student’s ordination. About a week ago I was asked by my good friend Tommy Boland to speak at his ordination. It was a great time and the chapel was filled with those who had been touched by his ministry. I felt very privileged to be a part of this ceremony and received a few photos.
One of the things you will notice is that the pulpit is really high. I can barely see over it. In fact a few people said that I looked like a giant thumb sticking up out of the pulpit. Here are the pictures of the thumb. I hope they don’t scare you.
Posted on Thursday, August 28th, 2008 at 3:21 pm
As the result of the generosity of some very kind people I was able, with the rest of the family, to see the Cubs play this year. Since Mo didn’t get to go, Charity took him to another game. Here she is along with Mo and her boyfriend Corey at the game.
Posted on Friday, August 22nd, 2008 at 11:32 am
15 minutes doesn’t seem so far away. It’s a short drive, one that can be made every day and one that is much shorter than my own daily commute, yet now it seems to me to be worlds away.
That is how far both Charity and Josiah live now that they both are in college. It was tough helping Charity move out three years ago when she moved out but I knew that she would be home pretty often. I have been forced to realize that the times have become less and less often and now that she will graduate next year I expect that she may really “move out” for good one day.
Just two days ago Josiah moved out as well. I couldn’t help but remember the cool day in Chicago when he went to kindergarten for the first time; how that we thought that the bus wasn’t coming and Cindy drove him to school only to realize that we just hadn’t waited long enough. I couldn’t drive him because I didn’t want a group of five year olds to see a grown man cry.
It just doesn’t seem that long ago. Where did those thirteen years between kindergarten and graduation go? They seem to have slid by like a river moving fast and quiet, yet so smoothly that you don’t notice how much is really going past. Now the river has taken him fifteen minutes away. Fifteen minutes and thirteen years and the river moves on for both of us.
I never thought that I would feel so bad about not hearing drums when I was trying to read, or not having the dog thrown on me while I was asleep, or not being able to hear the TV because of uproarious laughter many times at my expense. Fifteen minutes is a long way when it signals a life change.
As far as fifteen minutes seems now, I must realize that this is a real turning point. That both of my children are now entering into another phase of life in which I will be able to protect them even less from the dangers of the world and the darts of the evil one. And so I must ask the Lord to send his protection fifteen minutes away. I must hope that the choices that Charity and Josiah make are wise ones, better ones than I made at their age. Most of all I must remember that real security comes not from me, whether I am fifteen seconds, fifteen minutes, or fifteen hours away. Real security comes from the Lord who reminds us in Psalm 20 that Some boast in chariots and some in horses, But we will boast in the name of the LORD, our God.
Posted on Monday, August 18th, 2008 at 4:38 pm
My father grew up in Indian Town and used to tell me stories that the Indians had told him. One of the most fascinating was the story of the “Skunk Ape” which is Florida’s version of the Sasquatch. I have grown up hoping that maybe there really was such a creature, though the evidence does not seem very compelling at this point. I keep looking for better evidence.
Alas I was disappointed again this week when claims of two good old boys from Northern GA announced that they had a body of a Bigfoot in a freezer. While the small, out of focus photos that made their way out from these two men looked an awfully lot like a costume made by a company called Bump in the Night (http://www.bumpinthenightproductions.com/default.asp). Here are photos of both the Bigfoot in the freezer and the head of the costume. The first photo is a close up of the photo from the two men in Georgia who have claimed to have found a Bigfoot body (after first claiming that it was shot with a 30.06 rifle, dragged out of the woods, and then kept in a freezer. The two men attempted to freeze the creature/costume into a block of ice by filling the freezer up with water. The fact that it was a frost free freezer seems to have gotten by them and the water shorted out the freezer. You can see a photo of the full “body” at http://www.coasttocoastam.com if you haven’t seen enough yet. A second site is http://www.cryptomundo.com run by a very credible researcher name Loren Coleman. You might also check out the book by Jeff Meldrum Sasquatch: Legend Meets Science. This is perhaps the best book on the Bigfoot phenomenon that has ever been written.
DSL
I expect to hear that the body has been stolen, rotted and had to be thrown away, or some version of a story that indicates that the primary individuals have been “hoaxed.” The press conference on Friday was a bust with only a picture of the beast given out and the reporters told that the body was “in a secret secure location (perhaps with Dick Chaney). I have smelled a hoax from the very start, but one never knows.
You be the judge as you look at the Bigfoot first at the Coast to Coast AM site, and the costume second right below..
Keep an eye out for the beast, but I have my doubts about it’s existence. If you have any stories to tell me, please don’t hesitate to let me know.
And for all of you who are wondering, no this is not a picture of me during the summer when I did not shave. I have never had this much hair on my head.
DSL
Posted on Tuesday, July 29th, 2008 at 4:39 pm
Yesterday Dr. Elmer Towns stopped by and sat in my office. It was an honor that I am not worthy of. Mr. Sunday School sitting in my office. It caused me to take a trip back to the times when I had used his material in trying my hardest to get my church and Sunday School to grow. I was never very good at that even when I used Dr. Town’s great materials.
I first started pastoring a church by helping my father when I would come home from college for the summer. As some of you might remember my father was older (50) when I was born so by the time I graduated from college he was 71 and I was drafted to do much of the work at the church. Only a few years later he had a stroke and passed away, about six months after my mom had died and I was left, at about 24 or so with a church and no real idea of what I was doing.
The building that we were in had been built by the church back when it was young and vibrant; growing and strong. At that time the neighborhood had been middle class and the church had been 350-400 strong. The decline in the church and the neighborhood started long before I was working there, but I became a convenient scapegoat. Since the building still had a sizeable mortgage it was difficult to keep everything paid with the shrinking congregation.
As time went on more and more of the older people began to say that I was “not like my dad” and leave the church. Meanwhile my efforts to recruit from the neighborhood were next to impossible because it had become much different in both race and economic status. I remember many, many mornings cleaning crack pipes off of the front of the church before going inside and answering the door several times during the day to those who needed “gas money,” “money for a fan belt” or any other scheme they could think of to buy another crack rock. The church was getting broken into pretty regularly. Once the communion set was even stolen.
While our crowds were shrinking, a Haitian church down the street was bursting at the seams. I thought, why not sell the church building to the Haitians, who could use it more than we could, and take the money and move out west into an area where more of our members actually lived. When I brought the idea up some of the members acted as if I had wanted us to apply for a liquor license (which is worse than almost anything in the Baptist church, first comes liquor, then that leads to dancing).
After some pretty ugly business meetings and some people showing up to vote whom I hadn’t seen in thirty years, we finally voted to sell the building. What really bothered me was the number of people who kept coming up to me saying “its really sad that you’ve got to sell the church.” WE ARE NOT SELLING THE CHURCH! I would tell them, we are moving. They just could not wrap their heads around the difference between the building and the church.
We did move, I worked hard to try to get things going but they never really took off. I later came to realize that once a church starts into serious decline like it had long before I had started there, it is almost impossible to turn it around. I gave it my best shot and still feel a lot of guilt about not making it work. I still think sometimes that if I had worked a little harder, or tried some other program, or done more EE, or something else that maybe the church would have grown. I am Calvinistic enough to know better, but our guilt doesn’t always allow us to be rational.
One of the most important things that I learned in that experience is not to follow a great and well loved pastor, even if he is your father. You cannot win. If you change things you have no respect. If you leave things the same, it is your fault that the place is going downhill. I learned that lesson well and will never make that mistake again, I can assure you.
Every May, the first Sunday, the church had what was called “Home Coming Day” in which old members would come back, there would be dinner on the grounds, etc. It had been in times past, an incredible day when people would come from out of town and old friends would gather. It became less and less of that as the friends got older and older. In 1995 it was the 50th anniversary of the church. Also in 1995 I had told the church that I was going to be leaving the pastorate to work on my Ph.D. I was to be moving to Chicago in a few weeks and so that homecoming day was the last one for me, and it would be the first time that the church would be without a pastor named Lamerson. I remember it well and I had written a poem for the occasion.
Now let me tell you that I am not a poet. I don’t know about meter, feet, iambic pentameter or any of those things but writing the poem was sort of therapeutic for me. With that backstory, I am putting my work on the board and asking you not to laugh at it. It is not good, not even mediocre, in fact it is pretty embarrassing, but it reminds me of the story that used to be mine.
It’s hard to believe that it’s been fifty years
Since the church started, amidst laughter and tears
There were those who said that it never would last
This work of the Lord that is now standing fast
It began as a dream and an answer to prayer
For the founder and others who met with him there
They said God had called him to start a new labor
Ignore Him they couldn’t for He had brought favor
On this small band of people now meeting with purpose
As they prayed and they worked, God blessed this service
They called a young man to lead them that day
And no one could know what results that would pay
As he preached and he called on those he did know
And slowly but surely the group was to grow
They grew even more as word got around
Word of a new church on the west side of town
Many were touched by the words of the pastor
And when they touched others, it grew even faster
Til finally one day he met with the board,
“We’ll build a new building, we’ll just trust the Lord”
And build it they did, with a great deal of speed
“We will look to the Lord to supply what we need”
The building was built and the people all came
To see this big structure and worship His name
As the pastor grew older, the people grew sad
A new young man came, “He’s not like his dad”
“He’s new and he’s different” the people would say
“We’ve done this for years, but never that way”
And slowly they left with a word here and there
“His father was better, he just doesn’t care”
The young man was trying to do what he could
He preached them the Scriptures as he knew that he should
But ever so slowly the truth was made clear
If change did not happen, then death was soon near
Some said they should move and the young man agreed
“This building’s too big, it’s more space than we need”
But others were mad and some misunderstood
In spite of it all he did what he could
But many were angry, and some caused great strife
In this move to the west, the church fought for her life
Now some things are different, things are not the same
Some long for the old days when things had not changed
Others stand far off and cackle with glee
“The church will now die, should’ve listened to me”
God’s church marches on in spite of it all
The Kingdom goes forth Summer, Winter, and Fall
It cannot be stopped by the work of mere mortals
The work is of God looking down from the portals
Of heaven is He and those others who call
That this is Christ’s church, no matter how small
It’s hard to believe that it’s been fifty years
So much has been great, yet so many tears
The young man is leaving in this fiftieth year
But God isn’t going, He will always be here
Onward . . . .
Luzene and Ruth Lamerson’s youngest boy
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