This is a video from slides I used many years ago to turn a popular love song for others into a love song from Jesus.
Beadle 09192025
On a church sign in Scotland, below the minister’s name, I read Church Beagle: {name}. Church Beagle? Did the church have a mascot? Had they gone to the dogs? Was the alpha-dog bully publicly named on the sign? (In our system it might read TLG – That Little Group). It was a misread, not a misprint. The sign actually and accurately read: Church Beadle.
For Charles Dickens’ novel “Oliver Twist”, Mr. Bumble was a Beadle who ran the orphanage workhouse outside London — “tears were not the things to find their way to Mr. Bumble’s soul; his heart was waterproof.” Wow. I cry with tears, bad beadle, bad beadle, sit, stay.
During the Scottish Reformation of the 16th century, the Beadle was “the minister’s man.” He would open the church, take care of the grounds, ring the bell, etc. As Sunday worship began, the Beadle would process in with the Bible and the Psalter, escort the preacher up to the pulpit, lock the door of the pulpit steps, and sit by the door with a mace. His actions said the preacher was called to interpret the Bible whether you liked it or not. He made sure the word was proclaimed, unhindered. (He might also waken those who had fallen asleep during a long sermon.)
I wonder if the Beadle is shown below John Knox preaching at St. Giles Cathedral. Maybe he was protecting Knox’s freedom of preach as he questioned the autocratic actions of Mary Queen of Scots who ruled from Edinburgh Castle halfway up the royal mile.
In line with the Beadle, as a Presbyterian Preacher, I can’t be silenced by “That Little Group” for what I say in a sermon. It takes a vote of the congregation AND a vote of elders and pastors from a majority of congregations in the presbytery. With wisdom from a wider witness, they might act to get me the help I need, correct my errors, or protect me as I faithfully speak truth to power — especially when it’s unpopular and thus Biblically prophetic.
Who has been a Beadle in your life? Where might you see a need for Beadles today? What protections do you have to speak your truth to those who greedily abuse power?
What’d I Miss? 02052025
Washington Irving’s character “Rip Van Winkle” slept through 20 years and returned to a changed village. I’ve only been out of it for 2 weeks. We’ve been in France (the French side of the Caribbean island of Saint Martin) since Jan. 19. That was the day before the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s birthday (a day of equality, mercy, inclusion, and service to others) and the day of beginning of the end (grabbing all the money and power you can by those lusting for more).
The historian Dom Crossan taught me this truth: “The history of civilization reveals that you can have a Republic and you can have an Empire; but you can’t have both for long.”
In Lin Manuel Miranda’s musical “Hamilton” the second act opens with the beginning of the American Republic and Thomas Jefferson returning from France. Red-faced James Madison greets his return with these words: “Thomas, we are engaged in a battle for our nation’s very soul. Can you get us out of the mess we’re in? Hamilton’s new financial plan is nothing less than government control. I’ve been fighting for the South alone. Where have you been?”
Thus begins Jefferson’s song “What’d I Miss?”…. “What’d I miss? I’ve come home to this! Headfirst into a political abyss! What’d I Miss?”
Being unplugged for two weeks, I too wonder what’d I miss? You can speak it, write it, rap it, or think it but I’m curious what your answer would be to my question: “What’d I miss?”
Bookends 110824
One bookend of my ministry is Frederick Buechner. In seminary I read Peculiar Treasures: A Biblical Who’s Who. After retirement, when I was discerning becoming a writer I was led to “Writing for your Life” with Brian Allain. This online community still brings together incredible spiritual writers and publishers as a community of help to authors who often feel isolated. During Covid, a week-long, in-person conference I wouldn’t afford, was available on Zoom; I took 4.
Brian had an MBA from Wharton school of business. He worked in technology and high tech. He was contacted by Frederick Buechner’s family to make his writings and insights available online. His teamwork in technology introduced him to this spiritual writer. In retirement, he used his teamwork and business skills to help other spiritual writers. The reason you can receive a daily quote from frederickbuechner.com is because of Brian’s work. He brought spiritual writers together to write essays in “How To Heal Our Divides” and the sequel.
My first Buechner quote from that first book I read continues to get quoted most holy weeks:
Pilate told the people that they could choose to spare the life of either a murderer named Barabbas or Jesus of Nazareth, and they chose Barabbas. Given the same choice, Jesus, of course, would have chosen to spare Barabbas too.
To understand the reason in each case would be to understand much of what the New Testament means by saying that Jesus is the Savior, and much of what it means too by saying that, by and large, people are in bad need of being saved. (Mark 15:6-15) ~originally published in “Peculiar Treasures” and later in “Beyond Words”.
Who are the spiritual writers in your life? Who has inspired you to discover and do “what is yours to do”? What is one bookend on your life to this point in your journey?
Dietrich Bonhoeffer Oct 21 2024
My study of German language & history in college and my study of christianity in seminary came together in one hero: Dietrich Bonhoeffer. At the age of 27, January 1933, two days after Hitler was installed as Chancellor, pastor and teacher Bonhoeffer delivered a radio address in which he warned Germany against “slipping into an idolatrous cult of the Führer (leader), who could very well turn out to be Verführer (misleader, seducer)” before his broadcast was cut off.
I was transformed by Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s 1937 seminal book “The Cost of Discipleship” (Nachfolge – following) which contains: “cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, communion without confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without taking the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.”
The “German Evangelical Church” (Deutsche Evangelische Kirche) revealed just how costly cheap grace can be. As they became the German Christian movement, the evangelical church followed Hitler’s demand (with the threat of violence) that Nazi doctrine be preached by all 18,000 pastors to unify the 45 million protestants in Germany — religion supporting fascism.
Bonhoeffer and others resisted Hitler’s control of the church with their “Confessing Church Movement.” In 1934 the Barmen Declaration (written by theologian Karl Barth) said that Christ is the Head of the Church, not the Führer (leader). The Barmen Declaration remains in our presbyterian church’s “Book of Confessions” in case that question ever came up again. 20% of church leaders took the risk of following Jesus. God only knows why 80% chose Hitler as their Führer (leader) instead of Yahweh. Popular rarely equals righteous.
After leading underground seminaries (forbidden to speak in public), on the 10th anniversary of his radio address about a dictator on day one, he was imprisoned as an enemy from within. Four weeks before Germany’s surrender, Dietrich Bonhoeffer was executed in Flossenbürg Concentration Camp on April 9, 1945. His last book, “Letters and Papers from Prison” was published seven years later to inspire future generations.
If you’d like to learn more, Home Brewed Christianity is in the midst of an excellent online course and podcast called “The Rise of Bonhoeffer”. There’s a new movie about him coming soon. What bells of the past do you hear ringing today? What risks are you taking with your secret ballot?
At Seventeen August 26, 2024
“At Seventeen” (a year before the song) seventy tornados swept through several states on Wednesday April 3, 1974. By Sunday we still didn’t have electricity, food, or water. We went to the church of my youth to meet our most basic needs — imagine that.
During worship I sat by my latest hero, Major Mott of the Salvation Army. I sat among strangers in a sanctuary where I usually knew everyone. Worship did not focus on the carnage of Rolling Fields, Crescent Hill, Indian Hills, or Northfield, but on the hope of people coming together and working together to do something for the future. Everyone was welcomed to share in the meal of communion — a thanksgiving remembrance with bread and wine.
Moving into Fellowship Hall, we sat around tables eating sandwiches. Sandwiches….. all we seemed to ever see were sandwiches. We were tired of making so many sandwiches; we were “fed up to here” with eating sandwiches. Yet, we were “well fed” by sandwiches. The community had blossomed beyond the sanctuary walls. I sat with a friend who attended synagogue the day before. “Another damned sandwich” suddenly tasted sacred.
After those two communions, when I looked out on my neighborhood, nothing had changed. I could still see my house unblocked by blown away trees. I could see the devastation of other homes. Nothing had changed, but I had changed. I had stopped, prayed, worshipped, and shared two communions with strangers and friends — now neighbors. I would not be the same again.
Tell a story to someone about when you left a service of worship different than when you arrived. When has an ordinary meal been transformed into sacred space for you? What life events invited your transformation and how did you respond?
Clergy Killers August 13, 2024
In 1999 a pastor in a “Healthy Congregations” workshop told us about a man who told his board, “A lot of people are complaining to me about our pastor.” The board members wisely asked him to identify “a lot of people,” but he refused to name them — “to preserve confidentiality”. They asked for specific examples of complaints; he refused to give them — only generalities. He threatened the board, “You’d better take action because so many of these important members will leave the church and take their donations with them.”
After an investigation, when no evidence was found to back up the threats, the bully relentlessly escalated — accusations now went from he’s not visiting enough to financial and “maybe” sexual abuse. Some wondered what truth there might be to these attacks. The pastor doubted himself and his call to be a servant leader. After his heart attack, when he swore that “the whole church is against me”, it was revealed it was two cruel people who brought the carnage and chaos.
That’s when I read the book Clergy Killers that had been published in 1997. I learned how often clergy killers bully their way to power in a church. When pastors think the whole church was against them, it is almost always 2 or 3 — what we began to call a TLG (that little group).
From the introduction to the book: People rightly often criticize and disagree with their minister, but clergy killers are intentionally destructive. Whether you call them mentally ill or evil, they insist on inflicting pain and damaging their targets. They call on others to do their dirty work, subvert worthy causes, lead acts of sabotage, and cause their victims to self-destruct. (Pg 9 Clergy Killers: Guidance for Pastors and Congregations Under Attack, G. Lloyd Redinger, 1997, Westminster John Knox Press).
Have you ever experienced someone bent on destruction who says “somebody should look into” some false accusation? What is it about a church that allows clergy killers to gain so much power? Read the book, or stay tuned if you want to learn some positive ways to respond.
Sitz Im Leben June 12, 2024
Our Houston hotel received about 40 letters from Louisville in one day. We read them a few hours after learning I did not have bone cancer but a harmless benign tumor. Our shared surreal experience was that the cards we were reading with relief and elation were written from dire, drastic, deadly perspectives.
At 18 I was watching myself read what my parents’ friends write to give love, hope, and support in horrible situations, but I wasn’t needing what they were offering. They believed I was facing arm amputation, horrendous treatments, and an abbreviated lifespan when they wrote. I was evaluating their word choices, because of the evolution of my reality when I read.
Early in the last century, German Biblical scholars used the term “Sitz im Leben” — “Situation in Life.” In interpreting texts from the Bible, we need to understand the perspectives of the writers in their times, places, and worldviews. Their situations were different than ours; understanding their backgrounds helps bring their words forward into our lived experience.
As Marcus Borg wrote: “the Bible is a human product: it tells us how our religious ancestors saw things, not how God sees things.” I’d add that the Bible is a conversation over thousands of years; the different perspectives on life and the Divine reveal the “sitz im leben” of the storytellers. We also read a passage in different ways depending on our own “situation in life” which evolves and changes in the passage of time.
How does knowing a person’s background help you better understand their perspectives? When have you read the same words in a different way because of a transformation in life? How does understanding the matrix of his time help you come to know the historical Jesus?
Playing Jesus June 3, 2024
As a high school senior, before I was to play Jesus, I was John the Baptist. In front of God and the hundreds in worship, accompanied only by my friends, I sang “Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord”. I belted out my solo as I paraded down the aisle to promote our youth group’s coming production of “Godspell”. As we rehearsed “It’s All for the Best” I was transformed from John to Jesus, but I never got to play Jesus on stage. (And no, I’ve not been trying to play Jesus ever since).
A fortnight before the production, I went to the doctor because I had a sore arm. I was joking with the x-ray technician, before he changed his demeanor. The x-ray revealed a hole in my left humerus bone. I sensed something was wrong when we went from being humorous to a serious humerus. The doctor said it looked like bone cancer and we should go to MD Anderson Cancer Center to get their insights. He said it might take a month to get in, but we flew out the next day to stay with cousins in Dallas while dad tried pulling strings in Houston.
Two days after the production, the cast gathered to call me in the hospital. It was the day before my surgery. One teenager after another got on the phone to ask, “How are you doing?” The 20 questions never got creative, but the meaning of their compassion grew with each voice. I don’t really remember what we said, but I’ll never forget that they called.
The lesson for my ministry was this: my presence was more important than my avoidance stemming from worry I might say the wrong thing. A simple phone call from a lined-up youth group provided a healing balm such as I would never have imagined before my experience.
When have you received a simple act of caring you will never forget? Where have you sought to show your caring to another person? How might you look for opportunities to bring compassion to the world?
My First Best Man May 6, 2024
When I finished four years of Emory college in Atlanta, I started four years of seminary studies at Union in Richmond, I had been dating a high-class underclass-woman for a year. After two years of long-distance romance, she graduated and we planned our wedding to be in the seminary chapel.
I called Jeff to invite him to be my best man and see if he could schedule our wedding date around his world-traveling business trips. He asked, “Are you sure you want me to be your best man?” Puzzled, I said, “Of course I want you. You’re my best friend!” “No Wallis, do you want a gay man standing beside you at your seminary chapel wedding? Would that be allowed?”
I quickly responded, “I’m not asking you because you’re gay. I’m asking you because you’re you. You’re my best man because of what you’ve done to become my best friend.”
In the silence before he said “I will” stand beside you when you promise “I will”, I did not ask the question I could have — but wondered if I should have. I did not ask, “How did the church you loved and brought me back to harm you so?” Instead, I silently grieved my friend’s pain.
Soon enough though, I got back to planning my first wedding. I got back to seminary studies to learn how to follow and serve my Lord Jesus as an unfinished person in an unfinished church. I got back to becoming the pastor God called me to try to be.
How have you (or someone you love) been hurt by a church in the name of God’s love? Where have you received healing and wholeness? In what ways does your community invite your transformation in your unfinished life?