Deadlines. Depending on your point-of-view, you either hate them or love them. Rarely are we ambivalent. For example, you probably love payday -- the deadline for your company or organization to have their personnel payment issues in order. But, you might hate deadlines at your job -- the looming calendar guillotine for turning in a project or completing a necessary task. Bedtime was a non-negotiable deadline when I was a kid. (As a night-owl, I hated it. But I think my parents loved it.) April 15, every year... Let's just say I'm glad I don't work at the post office.

When I first began serving in ministry, I wasn't sure how I felt about deadlines. Discipleship weekend deadlines were made to be broken. Camp registration people were too legalistic; after all, this kid needs to be there! I felt guilty enforcing deadlines. After all, God is merciful and gracious! I wanted people to see mercy and grace in me as a follower of Jesus. What's an hour? A day? A week? After all, people were often all too enslaved by their calendars!

This week, we are wrapping up registration at our church for the "More Than a Backpack" outreach effort. Together with other churches from our local Baptist Association, we are helping provide backpacks and school supplies to needy families in our area. Registration began in May and was slow, like the trickle from a leaky faucet. But this week is the last week for registration, and the flood has come. And it's great. But today is the last day of registration, and now have come the flood of calls, wanting information. And when they hear that today is the last day, sometimes there's a call for leniency. "We can't make it today." "Please, please, pretty please, with a cherry on top, can we come by tomorrow?" "The car is out of gas." "The dog is having surgery." "We just found out." "We just moved here." Some requests seem more reasonable than others, some just make me feel fat guilty. What's one more day?

Years ago, as I struggled with this same issue, I was gently reminded in a moment of prayer that sticking to deadlines is, in fact, a very good thing to do. A godly thing, actually. Perhaps even worshipful. Deadlines remind us of the truths of eschatology, which is a fancy way of saying, "the final things."

Yes, God is merciful to those who call out to Him. He is gracious, forgiving evil and all kinds of foolishness. But... there will come a time when the hours of pardon will come to an end. There will be a day that is the final deadline, when the end comes and our window of opportunity will close. No appeals. No second chances. No "wait, wait, wait..." The end will come for you, and for me. Just because we don't know the particular when, be it by death or by the triumphant return of Christ, doesn't make it any less real.

Deadlines remind us that finality is real, but that opportunity remains. When we miss a deadline and we encounter that sinking feeling that something was missed, it might remind us that our time is precious, and that we should make the most of each fleeting breath. It might remind us on a small scale to repent from sin and trust Christ as Lord now, since either by hook or by crook, our own personal deadline is approaching.

Plus, isn't it just nice to know that you have things in order with time remaining on the clock?

Book Review: Tactics by Gregory Koukl

Every now and again, a preacher will come along and remind me that a Christian's responsibility is to share Christ with those around him. And, I have to admit, there have been many times I have heard that admonition -- err, encouragement -- with a quick attempt to make eye contact with just about anything else: the floor, my open Bible, my watch, "oh, what do you know? My shoelace is untied. I could trip if I don't fix that right now." Sure, I know I'm supposed to be on the alert to "give a defense for the hope that is in me" (1 Peter 3:16), but I'll admit I'm not always so good at making the most of those opportunities. Often I'm a victim of my own perceived amabassadorial inadequacies.

Fortunately, I stumbled upon a remarkable little book by Gregory Koukl titled Tactics. It's a fairly quick read (just at 200 pages), but I have found that good things come in small packages. The cover advertises the text as "a game plan for discussing your Christian convictions", and Koukl delivers an exceptionally applicable approach for explicit evangelistic engagement.

At the heart of Koukl's work is the lost art of reasonable, winsome interrogation: asking meaningful questions, engaging conversation, and remembering that a personal witness of Christ's lordship doesn't require one to be a sage on the stage. "All I want to do is put a stone in someone's shoe" is the axiom for Koukl (p. 38).

And thus beginneth the course. Good questions, basic critical thinking, and a sense of the Gospel's inherent truth will provide every follower of Christ with the necessary tools to adequately and powerfully respond to inquiries and straight challenges. Can't stand to read academic textbooks that go over your head? Koukl's presentation is stimulating and written in a conversational manner that anyone can read and comprehend.

Get a copy of Tactics and get in the game!

Elevators and the Unwritten Rules

Spent some quality time in an elevator yesterday. I got on at the first floor and had to go all the way up to the eighth, with periodic pauses on the in-between floors to let others on and off. It's a mundane thing, really, to ride on an elevator. We hardly pay any attention to the goings-on. But you know what?

Social conventions crack me up.

Those little unwritten rules about elevator etiquette are unique and kind of silly. Don't talk to anyone, unless the topic involves communicating the destination floor. Look only at the numbers, or your feet, or the door. Actually, just don't make eye-contact with anyone. Move to the back of the elevator when new people get on. Face toward the doors. Evenly space out as far as humanly possible to be equidistant from every other passenger. Making contact with the wall is OK. Don't slouch. Which is funny when you think about it, because I think people would have better posture if we rode elevators everywhere. When did I learn? Did Mom have to sit me down and enlighten me one day? Did we cover proper elevator behavior in Kindergarten?

Funny thing. I probably never had to be taught verbally how to behave in an elevator, but I learned by observation. It's probably as close as we ever get to the old "learning by osmosis" trick many of us have been trying since high school chemistry. And eventually, we all catch on.

Which makes me wonder... What are the unwritten expectations of faith and behavior at Lexington Baptist Church? What do we expect of growing believers in Christ? Do we expect discipleship? Do we expect Biblical literacy? Do we expect people to grow in grace, and love, and mercy? What do we expect post-baptism?

What social conventions (good or bad) exist at Lexington Baptist? And are they keepers or losers?

Amazing is Good

A little over a month ago, Kiley brought home Starburst jelly beans after a trip out for groceries. You say, “That’s great. Jelly beans are jelly beans.” I respectfully disagree. You have not had jelly beans until you have had Starburst jelly beans. In a word, they are awesomeamazingsplendiforousheavenly. You say that’s not a word. It is now. I just coined it, because frankly, Starburst jelly beans defy definition by an existing word. Once you truly experience a Starburst jelly bean, you’ll agree with me. I am convinced that as we gather around the throne to worship the King once our earthly days end, angelic ushers will provide us with Starburst jelly beans. They are that good.

One problem, though. Like Mint M&M’s at Christmas, Starburst jelly beans are a seasonal item. (Or so Kiley tells me. I hope it’s not a ploy to control my sugar intake.) In a month’s time, Starburst jelly beans will disappear from the shelves and I will wish I had more. Sometime around October, I will think to myself, “I miss Starburst jelly beans.”

Easter is almost here! That day when we celebrate the resurrection, the day that makes every other day worth living! Jesus – the spotless Lamb, the second Adam, the Lord of the Universe – was killed, but He didn’t stay that way! He ate breakfast with the disciples; He met Peter on the beach; He walked on the road to Emmaus; He paid a visit to His brother James and 500 others. Lots of people think we only celebrate Easter once a year as a seasonal thing. But you know better!

We remember Easter each week because we worship on Sunday – the Lord’s Day, the day of resurrection. We remember Easter each day because Jesus has said, “Remember! I am with you always, even to the end of time” (Matt. 28:20, emphasis mine). And, because you have truly experienced that resurrection power by trusting the resurrected Jesus to be boss of your life, you agree with me. As we gather around the throne to worship the King once our earthly days end, we will be consumed with the majesty of Easter. It’s that good.

Don’t get caught thinking Easter is merely a seasonal item. Without the empty tomb, the manger is just a cute display piece.