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As a student of American history, I've long been intrigued by the massive carnage of the American Civil War, and have wondered whom to blame for this most devastating event. The answer, as I'm finding now in a new book called "America's Great Debate"(by Fergus M. Bordewich; Simon and Schuster, 2012), lies with a number of rabid politicians from both the South and the North, who for decades tried to shout each other down and fought against anyone proposing anything remotely looking like a compromise.
I'm not sure why I needed to fix the blame for this, to have someone identifiable before whose doorstep we could lay this. One would like to think that modern political leaders would learn important lessons in the failures of their predecessors--that failing to deal with the tough issues and handing them off to the next generation is abject dereliction of duty.
On these pages, as I have railed against the practice of deacons ruling the church and bossing the pastors--a practice not even remotely suggested by anything in Scripture--I've wondered where it all started.
Now we know.
It has not been a secret, although it has been pretty much unknown. Howard B. Foshee covered this in his 1968 book, "The Ministry of the Deacon," published by Convention Press. For a generation, his book was the standard for Southern Baptists wanting to know how to organize and train their church's deacon groups.
In a chapter chronicling "Evolving Concepts of Deacon Service," Dr. Foshee identifies the smoking gun.
Recently, when the directors of missions for our state met in their annual retreat, they asked me to lead an evening session on "Do's and Do Not's for DOMs." On the ride up to our gathering place, a friend asked if I had trouble selecting 10 of each. I said, "Right now, I have the list down to 730." He laughed, understanding fully what I was saying. There are so many good choices and an equal number of bad.
In this series on "Reforming the Deacons," that is, remaking your church's body of deacons into a powerful team of servants, we need to pause and mention some serious practices faithful deacons will avoid.
1. A deacon should never politic to be elected.
Let the church membership choose whom it will. Remembering that diakonos means "the lowliest servant," one who goes "through the dust" to get a job done, to campaign for election undermines the very idea.
Why would a man (or just as likely, his family and friends) campaign for election as a deacon? In most cases, it's because that church's deacons have become the power center of the church and that's where the authority lies. There is a certain class of humanity that loves to rule, takes pride in exerting influence over others, and enjoys the prestige of being chosen above others. We who find ourselves in that class should take warning, for what it says about our spiritual condition is not good.
Take the deacons' authority away--which is what we are urging--and ask them to restrict their activities to serving church members in need and working in the background, and you will see an end to the politicking. Few want to be servants; far more want to be the one giving orders to the servants.
2. A deacon should cut no corners of truth in order to be chosen.
If you had nearly died from a strange illness and the doctors had given up hope, then suddenly you recovered and were able to get on with your life, could you ever ever forget that?
If you had suffered on death's row at Angola Prison, and the prison chaplain was preparing a final prayer and the chef had laid out your last meal, when suddenly the governor pardoned you and you walked outside a free man, and then got on with your life, could you ever forget it?
Apparently some people can forget the most momentuous events in their lives.
Consider this line: For he who lacks these qualities is blind or short-sighted, having forgotten that he was forgiven from his past sins. (II Peter 1:9)
It appears that some calling themselves Christians no longer remember that they have been forgiven of their sins. How strange is that? And how does it happen?
I think we know.
If to be a deacon means to serve, and if it really matters the quality of the person chosen to serve the congregation, then someone in church leadership must be able to recognize a servant when they see one.
Otherwise, you may end up with a lot of men in your deacon body who want to do anything in the world except serve.
Which, as you think of it, is a perfect description of a thousand deacon groups: a lot of men who want to do many things, none of them being to serve.
Now, before the Feast of the Passover, Jesus knowing that His hour had come that He should depart out of this world to the Father, having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end.... (John 13:1)
You will recognize that as the opening of the Upper Room passage where the Lord washes the feet of His disciples, the ultimate act of servitude. In this one verse, we find a number of insights as to the traits of a great servant.
If the deacon body is to be healthy, it must get rid of toxic members in its fellowship.
Toxic member number one: The bully. He's the guy who throws his weight around, demands that everyone follow his agenda, issues orders to the pastor and staff, and instills fear in half the people around him.
You thought the problem with bullies ended after elementary school? Think again.
Bullies can be found in the classroom (as professors), on football fields (as coaches or players), in the workplace (more likely, it's the boss), and, most surprising of all to most people, in church.
All bullies are dangerous to the success of whatever mission they are engaged in. They can wreck the program by demanding their own way, by undermining the work of leaders, and by driving away good people who refuse to cave in to them.
Since the work of the church is the Kingdom of God on earth, a bully in the sacred place can cause damage having eternal consequences.
Now, the church bully can be a pastor, a Sunday School teacher, a somebody or a nobody. But when the bully is a deacon, particularly in a wonderful church doing significant work for the Lord, he is especially dangerous and must be dealt with.
Just one such monster left unchecked and unchallenged can stop a good ministry in its tracks, destroy the work of a faithful pastor, ruin a church's reputation, hold the Lord's people up as a laughingstock before the world, and splinter a united congregation.
Bullies cannot be left unguarded, their tactics unchallenged, and their demands unaddressed. Someone must do something.
Has anyone ever written on what deacons should do concerning the bullies within their fellowship?
Diotrephes was a bully. The Apostle John said, "I wrote something to the church, but Diotrephes, who loves to be first among them, does not accept what we say. For this reason, if I come, I will call attention to his deeds which he does, unjustly accusing us with wicked words, and not satisfied with this, neither does he himself receive the brethren, and he forbids those who desire to do so, and puts them out of the church" (III John 9-10).
The Pharisees were bullies. Jesus said they "shut up the kingdom of heaven from men," they "devour widows' houses," and they are in danger of "the sentence of hell" (Matthew 23).
What should a deacon do about a bully within his own group?
The old joke--it's probably more of a parable--has the mice plotting what to do about the cat. Finally, they decided to tie a bell around the cat's neck so they could hear it coming.
The only thing they could not agree on was who would bell the cat.
It's one thing to talk about reforming the deacons, and another thing to do it.
How would one go about it? Where would you start?
Let the deacons take the initiative.
Why them? Because the alternative might create an uproar unnecessarily.
Imagine someone standing in your church business conference to propose a complete reorganization of the deacons, including qualifications, membership, assignments, accountability, and limitations.
Now, imagine this coming as a complete surprise to the deacons.
Imagine further that the deacons are being run--and I do mean "run"--by a few strong-willed individuals who see this as their way of controlling the church and its ministers. And in their mind, that's a good thing.
You may as well have called them crooks and challenged them to a duel. They are shocked, stunned, enraged, and ready to tear the church up to salvage their honor and prevent this from happening.
That's why you're not going to do it. (There is a good reason no mouse volunteered to bell that cat. It's a suicide mission.)
NOTE: We assume here that the deacon body is in need of wholesale changes, a "drastic overhaul." If something less than that is needed, you may choose to skip what follows.
Let the deacons take the initiative.
Ideally, if the church's deacon system is not working or is causing more trouble than it is solving, all the deacons will see and acknowledge it, and will agree to bring the matter to the church.
If that's the case, the church will do it in a heartbeat.
The second approach is not as clear-cut but better than the alternatives of putting up with the defective status quo or springing it on the deacons in a business meeting.
On Facebook this week, a woman asked, "Why are you on this kick about deacons?"
I replied that in the last few days, two pastors have emailed me about rogue deacon groups that are making their lives miserable, presenting silly lists of requirements which they have to meet, and threatening them with termination. By what sick interpretation of Scripture does anyone find that kind of activity in God's Holy Word, someone tell me?
And now, this morning as I sit at the breakfast table typing, one of the pastors emails to say he and his entire staff are being forced out. The church business session he moderated last night, he said, felt like "The Jerry Springer Show." After the meeting ended, several fist-fights almost broke out. He added that most of the godly leadership of the church is resigning also. (I referenced this pastor in an earlier piece as saying the previous pastor had been forced out after 30 months. "And I am in my 30th month," he added.)
That's why. Someone needs to protect the church, not molest it.
The Bride of Christ is being molested. Gang-attacked, if you will.
Safeguarding the Lord's Church begins with the ministers, those assigned to oversee and shepherd the flock. It continues with a group of people who should be the healthiest, most normal, kindest and most Christlike people in the church: The Deacons.
But if the deacons themselves are not healthy, if they are trouble-makers and preacher-bosses, if they are constantly at war among themselves and often at odds with the rest of the church leadership, the church is at great risk.
What is a healthy deacon ministry? Short answer: it will be right Scripturally.
Longer answer: A healthy deacon ministry will be based on these five pillars:
The Bible does not tell us how to choose deacons.
In fact, it doesn't even command that we do so. Each church decides for itself whether to have deacons. Once it does to do so, the question then becomes how to choose them.
I cannot tell you the best way to select your church's deacons, but I can tell you the worst.
By popular vote.
There is no worst system on the planet than simply handing a ballot to the membership containing the names of all adult men and asking people to "Please mark no more than 10" or whatever.
The results will be all over the map.
Some good and godly men will be named, but you may count as fact that others nominated will be without principles, without integrity, and some even without a faith in Christ.
What are people thinking, you wonder. Answer: They're not.
I have seen churches whose popular vote system allowed for the nomination of men with as few as ten mentions on the ballots. Is there a worst system imaginable? Probably, but I can't think of one.
"Oh, but you're asking my church to change the way it elects deacons? That's not going to happen."
Then your church deserves the trouble that is coming its way.
A church--initially, its pastors and key leadership--has to decide whether its present system is working or failing. Only the fainthearted among us would want to keep a non-working system because changing it would create waves within the membership.
Sometimes making waves is a good thing. Leaders without the courage to make needed changes in the church structure for fear of stirring up opposition have no business calling themselves leaders.
A most unusual thing happened.
A church found itself with an internal problem and no one blamed the preachers.
Now, at this time while the disciples were increasing in number, a complaint arose on the part of the Hellenistic Jews against the native Hebrews, because their widows were being overlooked in the daily serving of food.
And the twelve summoned the congregation of the disciples and said, "It is not desirable for us to neglect the word of God in order to serve tables. But select from among you, brethren, seven men of good reputation, full of the Spirit and of wisdom, whom we may put in charge of this task.
But we will devote ourselves to prayer, and to the ministry of the word." (Acts 6:1-4)
The congregation was being torn apart by dissension and no one blamed the preachers.
When the preachers brought the congregation together with a solution, no one protested that the apostles were being autocratic.
No one argued when the disciples insisted that others should deal with this issue in order for them to keep to their priorities ("the word of God").
No one enlarged the spiritual qualifications to include their pet peeves about deacons.
The congregation followed the lead of the pastors, the pastors held to their priorities, the congregation chose seven godly men, and the matter was dealt with beautifully.
Amazing, ain't it?
And the statement found approval with the whole congregation; and they chose Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy Spirit, and Philip, and Prochorus, Nicanor, Timon, Parmenas, and Nicolas, a proselyte from Antioch.
And these they brought before the apostles; and after praying, they laid their hands on them. (Acts 6:5-6)
No one seemed to mind that all seven of the men were men.
No one seemed to mind that all seven of the names are Greek, indicating that the congregation chose these men from the minority group that had caused the ruckus in the first place. An incredibly mature act.
No one protested that after selecting them, the congregation then brought them to the disciples (the apostles) for their approval. The disciples prayed for guidance from the Lord, apparently received it, then "laid hands on them," the equivalent of ordaining them.
No one seemed to protest.
What a strange church. A problem arises and they meet it head on. There is no protesting, no rebelling against spiritual leadership, no insistence on "my rights," no need to alter the recommendation, and no delay. There is unity, love, and submission.
No wonder outsiders wanted in on this.
And the word of God kept on spreading; and the number of disciples continued to increase greatly in Jerusalem, and a great many of the priests were becoming obedient to the faith. (Acts 6:7)
Question: How long has it been since your church solved an internal problem with such swiftness and sweetness that outsiders were impressed and wanted to join?
What should deacons do?
If Acts 6:1-7 is to be our example and guide, the work of deacons may be defined as: whatever the congregation decides it needs, as prompted by the leadership, as chosen by the congregation, as solves the situation, and as will enhance the proclamation of the gospel.
We would appreciate a few more examples from Scripture as to what deacons did in the early church. Not having them, we are left to follow the few principles found there and the leading of the Holy Spirit as we perceive it.
Before sharing our list of 50 acts of deacon service, let us make these five observations concerning their work:
1. There is no definitive list anywhere giving the responsibilities of deacons.
2. The guiding principles seem to be a) whatever the church needs and b) the leadership supports.
3. Deacons are servants and are not found to be in authority over anyone anywhere in Scripture.
4. We should think of deacons as "leading from the rear." They keep the flock together, take care of stragglers, work for unity, and help the fallen along the way. The pastor or pastors ride point. (Anyone dismissing this work as unimportant needs to think again.)
5. The work of deacons will vary from church to church, and from year to year. But, as in Acts 6:7, their service should always reflect so positively on the Lord Jesus Christ that outsiders will want to join such a wonderful fellowship.
The qualifications for deacons, given only in I Timothy 3, have been used, abused, and misused by church people over the years to further their own vision on what the church should be.
I suggest we quit working by the letter of the law here and start paying closer attention to the spirit.
Uh oh.
The danger in leaving behind the letter of the law in favor of the spirit is that strict constructionists, who love their legalistic interpretations and are only too glad to exclude anyone who thinks otherwise, will accuse you of not taking the Word of God seriously.
I know this from experience. I'll go online and see where some article from this website has been ripped to shreds by a preacher who accuses me either of not knowing the Word or caring little for it. I try to respond kindly--wondering, for example, why he did not care to communicate this to me before displaying it on his billboard--but almost never get a response. This kind of preacher loves his tirades more than his brethren, thus violating John 13:34-35.
Here is a guide we rarely hear mentioned today: "(He) has made us adequate as servants of a new covenant, not of the letter, but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life." (II Corinthians 3:6)
The letter kills. That's what legalism does when it comes to interpret the Word. Putting their strict interpretation ahead of the believers involved or the particular circumstances the church finds itself facing, legalists end up misrepresenting the Lord, abandoning the people who were looking to them for direction, and painting themselves into the kind of corner from which there is no escape.
The Spirit gives life. This refers both to the Holy Spirit as well as to a spiritual interpretation of His Word. Only through God's Spirit can we find the (proper) spiritual interpretation of Scripture.
We can see Jesus spiritually interpreting the Word throughout the Gospels. To the woman caught in adultery (John 8), to the harsh Pharisees who strained at gnats and swallowed camels (Matthew 23:24), and to the critics who accused Jesus of breaking the Sabbath law (Matthew 12:2), Jesus interpreted the Word spiritually and not legalistically.
Jesus spiritually interpreted the Old Testament (the only Bible they had then) when He told the resurrection-denying Pharisees that they had missed something in Scripture. "Regarding the resurrection of the dead, have you not read that which was spoken to you by God saying, 'I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob?' Well, He is not the God of dead people but of the living." (Matthew 22:31-32) Pow! Take that.
He interpreted the Scripture spiritually when He said to those making Sabbath-observance the essence of obedience, "Man was not made for the Sabbath, but the Sabbath for man."
Examples abound.
It will not surprise you to know the so-called "defenders of God's Word" were furious at Jesus. They had their pet interpretations of Scripture and He refused to play that game. God's Word is not and was never meant to strait-jacket His people.
Regarding I Timothy 3:8-13, where Paul lists qualifications for deacons, the church has frequently painted itself into some dark corners by its insistence on harsh, narrow interpretations. Turning the text into shackles, it has bound itself hand and foot.
In no way do we intend what follows as the final word on anything. Longtime readers of these articles will know that I simply hope to get good people to discussing the subject and misguided people to giving a second look at what they have been doing.
Here's what happens.
A few deacons fellowshiping over coffee deal with various subjects about the church. Eventually, someone brings up the preacher and that ignites the interest of the rest of the group. One or two have some concerns and suggestions.
"The pastor is so effective, but he could be moreso if he would just do this."
"I agree. And the thing my wife mentioned, he should be doing that."
"Well, who's going to tell him? And how would he take it?"
From there, the group decides on a plan. After all, how could the pastor not receive this well? Aren't we all in his corner? Haven't we shown him how much we appreciate him? And hasn't he been preaching about how we are to grow and improve? Surely, he'll want us to bring these suggestions to him.
What the deacons either do not know or do not care to know is that Pastor Tom carries scars from his dealings with a rogue deacon group in his previous church. And even though he loves his present flock and sees God blessing his ministry, something inside him expects another bomb to go off, for some little group to show up at his door demanding that their wishes be met if he wants to remain in that church.
This is a delicate moment in the relationship of Pastor Tom and this assemblage of deacons. The problems are twofold: the pastor does not see it coming and thus is not prepared, and the deacons have no idea what they are about to stir up.
It does not go well, and here's why.
You will know the name Jimmy Doolittle.
He flew those bi-planes in World War I for the United States, and then barn-stormed throughout the 1920's, giving thrills by taking risks you would not believe. He led the retaliatory bombing of Tokyo in early 1942, a few months after Japan bombed Pearl Harbor. He played a major role in the Allied victory over the Axis, eventually becoming a General. His autobiography is titled "I Could Never Be So Lucky Again."
Doolittle and his wife Joe (that's how they spelled her name) had two sons, Jim and John, both of whom served in the Second World War.
The general wrote about the younger son:
John was in his plebe year at West Point and the upperclassmen were harassing him no end.... While the value of demeaning first-year cadets is debatable, I was sure "Peanut" could survive whatever they dreamed up. (p. 284)
Later, General Doolittle analyzes his own strengths and weaknesses and makes a fascinating observation:
(I) have finally come to realize what a good thing the plebe year at West Point is. The principle is that a man must learn to accept discipline before he can dish it out. I have never been properly disciplined. Would have gotten along better with my superiors if I had. (p. 339)
"I have never been properly disciplined." What an admission. It take a mature person to say that.
From what I read, I'd say Doolittle was not exaggerating. He was a man with a thousand strengths, but his few weaknesses kept creeping up and blindsiding him. Numerous times, even after he became a national hero, the officers in charge of his current assignment would ground him because of crazy stunts like buzzing airfields upside down and flying under bridges and endangering his passengers.
Prior to the Allied invasion of Normandy (June 6, 1944), the actual place and time were the biggest secrets on the planet. Everyone was sworn to silence. Doolittle tells of a general who shot his mouth off in a bar, talking freely about the invasion, speculating on when and where, even though he personally had not been briefed.
Eisenhower had no patience with such foolishness.
The most confused group of people in the average Southern Baptist church is the deacons.
They have no idea what they are to be and do. Depending on the whims of the deacon chairman for that year, they become servants or managers, program heads or administrators. Helpers or bosses. Activists or inactive.
The church's constitution and bylaws are usually vague on who they are, what they are to do, how they should function.
And, let us admit up front, Scripture does not give us a lot of guidance on this matter either. At every deacon ordination I've ever attended--and in a half century of ministry, that's quite a few--Acts 6:1-7 has been read. But there's not a word in that passage about those seven men being called deacons.
In fact, let's quit calling them deacons and start calling them what the name means: servants.
The list would be long. Mom gave birth to me, the fifth of seven children, on March 28, 1940. The boy born on March 25 of the previous year had not lived, so they referred to me as the fourth child. I owe her my life.
Did she take some teasing or even ridicule because of the rapid-fire way she was bringing children into the world? All 7 of us were born in a 9-year-span.
Lois Jane Kilgore was 17 when she agreed to marry Carl J. McKeever, a 21-year-old she had been seeing for three years. She was a farmer's daughter with a 9th grade education; he came from a long line of coal miners and dropped out of school in the 7th grade to go to work. He was the oldest of 12, she was the middle child of 9.
They surprised the preacher and got him out of bed that Saturday night, March 3, 1934, and asked him to perform the ceremony. There was no premarital counsel, no fancy surroundings, and for a time, no honorarium for the preacher. The next Monday, the coal miners went out on strike. An inauspicious beginning for marriage.
Lois had no idea what she had gotten herself into. Nothing from her sheltered, happy upbringing in the church-going farm family had prepared her for married life with that Irishman with the temper, a love for the sauce, and an unruly mob of siblings of all ages.
In time, Carl got his life straightened out, their marriage stabilized, and life was good. But for a couple or three decades, Lois paid a severe price for her determination to save her marriage and raise her brood of young'uns well.
As he aged, Carl became a wonderful patriarch in this family, revered and loved. He filled a room when he entered. He loved to talk, to tell a story, to read and learn and tell you what he had learned, and to work on problem-solving for the miners union of which he in time became a 70+ year member.
I grew up thinking he was the dominant force in my upbringing.
It took my wife to make me see otherwise.
I'm 95 percent about Lois McKeever. I owe her far more than I can ever know or say or repay. Here's what I mean.
(A sequel to the previous article on Why Fear of Death is Not Allowed for Jesus' Disciples)
And lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the world. (Matthew 28:20)
The overriding, most awesome, absolutely most compelling reality of the life of a disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ is His continuing presence with us throughout this life and on into the life-beyond-this-life.
How can we say this stronger?
The greatest factor in the believer's fearlessness is that "Jesus is with me." The reality that tips the scales for all time in favor of bold living and confident dying is the eternal presence of Jesus. Nothing else is so determinative.
I will never leave thee nor forsake thee. (Hebrews 13:5)
As a result of this promise from our Lord, found in both the Old and New Testaments, we "may boldly say, the Lord is my Helper and I will not be afraid" (Hebrews 13:6).
Bold living, confident proclaiming, sweet testimony, and assured dying. That is the plan. That is what Jesus Christ feels He has a right to expect of every disciple.
Throughout Scripture, the Lord had the same answer--almost like a broken record if you remember what that was--to every excuse from those whom He called into His service: I will be with you. This was His panacea, His answer for everything.
It's all through the Word....
I'm sorry, followers of Jesus Christ. The one thing you are not allowed in this life--and certainly not the next--is fear of death. It's verboten, off limits, taboo.
Fearing death ranks first as the ultimate insult to the Lord Jesus Christ.
It is unbelief of the first order.
Death was the biggest gun in Satan's arsenal when the enemy's forces trotted it out on that Passover Eve on a hill outside Jerusalem's walls. This Jesus Person would be dispensed with once and for all.
For a few awful hours, it appeared the diabolical plan had succeeded.
Jesus was dead. Really dead.
Then, on that never-to-be-forgotten Lord's Day morning, the tomb was found to be empty and reports began popping up that Jesus was appearing to His followers. The disciples, who had been ready to give up and go home and deal with their dashed hopes and the Galilean's embarrassing claims, suddenly were energized and "shot from cannons" as they blanketed the world with the news: Jesus is alive!
If He was alive, everything else had changed for all time.
That was the point.
Opponents and critics, eager to find holes and loopholes and potholes in the Christian message, rush to inform us that one man's death and even His resurrection, if indeed there was one, changes little.
They miss the point.
I'm on this "the preacher needs a buddy" kick in this week's articles. Obviously, not everyone agrees. Some are offended by the thought, as though we're suggesting that Jesus is not enough.
I'm not suggesting it. I'm saying it.
Well, to be precise, what I'm saying is: One of the primary ways the Lord works in your (and my) life is through other people. And He has chosen not to alter that system even for the most spiritual, most mature, and most godly.
How's that? Clear enough.
The pastor (an all-encompassing term in my lexicon which refers to ministers, missionaries, shepherds, church staffers) who tries to go it alone in ministry is choosing to walk with a limp, to work with one hand behind him, to limit his effectiveness, and to let a large part of his personality atrophy.
On the other hand....
When a minister climbs out of his shell and reaches out to befriend two or three colleagues in the Lord's work, when he makes friends of others called into this service, at least 12 things happen, all of them good.
The four-year-old who says, "I can do it by myself" has a lot in common with the typical pastor.
Pastors are notorious for their lone ranger approach to ministry. It's what I call the number one failure of 90 percent of pastors. They prefer to go it alone.
Even Jesus needed a buddy. "He came to the disciples and found them sleeping, and said to Peter, 'So, you men could not keep watch with me for one hour?'" (Matthew 26:40)
Sometimes it helps to have someone nearby, praying, loving, caring, even hurting with you.
The word paracletos from John 16:7 is translated "Comforter" and "Helper" in most Bible versions. The literal meaning is "one called alongside," the usual idea being that the Holy Spirit is our Comforting Companion, a true Friend in need. And each time that word is found in the New Testament--John 14:16,20; 15:26; 16:7; and I John 2:1--it always refers to the Lord.
However, here's something important.
Thursday of last week was the National Day of Prayer throughout America. The towns I drove through seemed to be making quite a deal of it.
Several pastors whose stuff I read, however, seemed worried that this might be the last such day. They fear President Obama might not authorize such an official observance in the future. They worry about that.
And that stuns me into silence. Well, almost. But not quite.
It ranks alongside the uppance of my dander when I read that Nashville's Vanderbilt University is requiring campus religious organizations to allow anyone of any beliefs or no beliefs to hold leadership positions. (Note: all I know on this issue is what I read in www.bpnews.net. This is the Baptist Press's website.)
What in the world is going on here, I wonder. Have we (they) lost our sanity?