Dear Mike Huckabee . . .

Dear Mike Huckabee,

Ever since last week's shootings in Newtown, I've read your quotes all over the media; here's just a sampling of them:

"We’ve systematically removed God from our schools." (UPI)

"We’ve created an atmosphere in this country where the only time you want to invoke God’s name is after the tragedy. . . . we’ve escorted [God] right out of our culture and marched him off the public square." (Huffington Post)

"We don't have a crime problem, a gun problem or even a violence problem. What we have is a sin problem. . . . we've ordered God out of our schools, and communities, the military and public conversations." (Christian Post)

At least we agree on one thing, Mike - that we have a sin problem. A sin problem that has existed ever since the Garden. Even if Adam and Eve had resisted the Tempter and obeyed God to the letter, someone down the line - surely you or I, if not someone long before us - would have come along and brought sin into the world.

But in acknowledging that we have a sin problem, we shouldn't try to deny that the fallenness of our world has brought related specific problems that we should be working to alleviate. Among them are rampant crime; a culture of guns and violence that increases the danger to all of us; and the problems of mental illnesses and social disorders that plague so many and make them a danger to themselves, their loved ones, and others.

Your central thesis, of course, appears to be the removal of God from our public life.

Really, Mike? Do you really think that Almighty God is so easily "removed" from public schools? Isn't his presence apparent in:

• the life of every child and teacher who has given his/her heart to Christ?
• the example of every child and teacher who lives her/his faith before others?
• the behavior of every child and teacher who practices the Golden Rule by not forcing her/his faith on others and by showing respect to those who believe differently?

Children are free to share their faith with classmates, to pray at lunch or even silently in their classrooms, as long as they are not disrupting the normal class routine or creating an atmosphere of coercion or discomfort. But those are restrictions that pertain to any behavior.

So your claim that God has been "removed" from public schools is absolutely false, Mike. There's not an ounce of truth to it. God is still present in the public schools; what has been removed is the use of taxpayer-supported schools for religious practice, teaching, and indoctrination. Again, it's the Golden Rule, Mike. Treat other people's children and grandchildren the way you would want them to treat yours.

Throughout public life, God is wherever there are people who know Him, have Him in their hearts, and live for Him. And people - whether schoolchildren or adults - are going to see God's presence not in some officially imposed religious rites or indoctrination but in God's Spirit giving grace through the lives of His people.

Mike, let's take a serious look at the Christ we both claim to follow and serve.

In this Christmas season, of all seasons, we are reminded of God's gracious gift to us - coming to live among us, in human form, the form of a tiny, helpless babe. A babe born in the most humble of circumstances. Circumstances that were anything but regal. Joseph and Mary were turned away - "no room in the inn" came to them as a harsh rejection as they prepared for the birth of their son. Their only alternative was to lodge with the creatures in the stable. Not the good-mannered, sanitized beasts that appear on our lawns or in our Christmas pageants, but more likely dirty, smelly, and none too happy about having to share their home with this traveling couple. And on top of that, having to give up the manger - the trough that held their food - for this newborn infant? I doubt they gave it up easily. So the Son of Man came to us humbly and lived humbly throughout his life, as the carpenter's son who followed his daddy into the trade. Scripture tells us that he had nowhere to lay his head.

But you, Mike, appear to be insisting on a Messiah wearing a golden crown and imposing political rule on all in the land. Go back and read Philippians 2. The Apostle Paul writes,

"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves." (2:3, NIV)

"Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness . . ." (2:5-8a, NIV)

Or Jesus' very own words in Matthew 20:25-28 (NIV):

"Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave - just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."

Mike, God is still in the public square. But perhaps his presence there should be evidenced more in our deeds than our words. The responsibility is ours as Christians - not to use God to win political points or to use God to demean those who disagree with us - but to live in such a way that Christ's presence will be unmistakeable. The presence of the Christ who:

• was born in humility and lived humbly
• taught that the two greatest commandments were to love God and love your neighbor
• always sought to redeem and never to condemn

And it is certainly not our responsibility to force others to pay lip service to our Lord! As George W. Truett said in his sermon, Baptists and Religious Liberty, delivered from the east steps of the U. S. Capitol in 1920:

"God wants free worshippers and no other kind."

Come on, Mike, let's stop using these tragedies to call for a civil religion that demeans God rather than worships him. Instead, as Christians, let's be the presence of Christ to those who are hurting and, in the name of Christ, look for ways to end the violence that is claiming victim after victim after victim.

Your brother in Christ,
Bill Jones

Time for Gun Owners to Lead, by David R. Currie

(NOTE: David R. Currie, Ph.D., is a Baptist minister and owner of Cornerstone Builders in San Angelo, Texas, who retired in 2009 after serving Texas Baptists Committed as executive director for over two decades.)

I own over 20 rifles, shotguns, and pistols. We gun owners have insisted on our Second Amendment rights, and we have insisted that those rights be virtually absolute, and have rejected common-sense restrictions on those rights. Tragically, last week 20 children at Sandy Hook Elementary School paid the price for our unrestricted right to own guns. Now their families grieve for the little ones they love, and we mourn the lives that might have been.

It’s time that we face reality – that our insistence on making those rights absolute makes it easier for disturbed individuals to carry out mass murders. I believe that it is finally time that I, and others who own guns, face some common sense reality and lead in calling for the enactment of effective gun laws that meet the constitutionality test. Gun owners need to lead the effort to stop these horrible tragedies.

Hunting has been an important part of my family for many generations. I have killed deer with my grandfather’s .30 Remington built in 1912 and my father’s .300 Savage manufactured in 1932. Most of my guns are antiques, which I value greatly, that belonged to my father or grandfather. I want to leave my guns to my sons, but I believe we must first change the gun culture in our country for me to do so.

The Second Amendment to the U. S. Constitution reads, “a well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a Free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.”

I believe in the Second Amendment and my right to own a gun. But every right is accompanied by obligations and responsibilities. We in America need to have a serious discussion about the kinds of guns that the average citizen should be able to legally own, and what kind of reasonable restrictions should be placed on their sale and use.

Following are some of my thoughts regarding possible common sense regulations. I do not believe that any of these regulations would violate the Second Amendment.

• Should it be as easy to buy a gun as it is today? I do not think so.

Several years ago, to reward myself for winning a fantasy baseball league, I went to Wal-Mart and bought a .270 deer rifle; after paying, I immediately walked out with the rifle.

It shouldn’t be that easy. Unlike a loaf of bread or gallon of milk, a firearm is a dangerous lethal weapon. No one should be able to just walk right out with a firearm they’ve bought at a gun show or Wal-Mart.

I propose, at a minimum, three requirements:

1. A reasonable waiting period
2. Serious background checks
3. Automatic registration of the gun in a national database

We must work harder to keep guns out of the hands of convicted criminals, as well as mentally incompetent and disturbed individuals. If law-abiding citizens have to go through additional red tape to own a firearm, then so be it. It’s too late to save those 20 children at Sandy Hook, but their deaths will have meaning if we can save others from suffering similar tragedies.

• Let’s have a reasonable discussion about the number of bullets any firearm can hold without requiring reloading. When I go deer hunting, I usually load three or four bullets. If I need more than that, I probably shouldn’t be hunting in the first place. No individual needs to own an assault weapon or any weapon with a clip that will hold more than five to ten rounds of ammunition. No one needs an assault weapon for civilian purposes.

The bottom line? Sale of assault weapons to civilians – and any such use – should be prohibited.

• To purchase and own a firearm, an individual should be required to obtain a license and proper training in safe use of the firearm. We require training and licensing to, to list just a few examples, drive a vehicle; sell real estate; or sell insurance. This is because of the potential impact of these activities on other people. So why should we permit an untrained individual to own and use a firearm, which has the potential of causing great harm to others?

To repeat, individuals should be required to undergo training to obtain a license before being allowed to own and operate a firearm.

No one can guarantee the effect of any of these regulations, because gun violence certainly involves many issues besides gun laws, such as mental health; parental responsibility; and the impact of television, movies, and video games in desensitizing individuals to the tragic results of violence. But it is time for a healthy, open, and candid discussion about all of these issues, including gun regulations, and those of us who own and love to use guns need to take part in that discussion with open and caring minds and hearts.

The arguments I hear from other gun owners opposing any regulation of the type and use of firearms do not make sense to me anymore, in light of the circumstances of modern America.

I do not accept the argument that allowing one regulation opens the door to all guns being taken away. We live in a world in which many things are properly regulated. For example, I am a homebuilder and accept, without question, that the homes I build are inspected and held to a reasonable standard of quality. However, regulation of my homebuilding does not prevent me from continuing to build homes; it simply means that I must build them to a standard of quality that any purchaser should expect in a new home. By the same token, to have the right to own a firearm, we gun owners should welcome proper and sensible regulation and required training.

And I have no more patience for the expression, “guns don’t kill people, only people kill people.” If we’re honest, we’ll admit that guns make it easier to kill people, and the type of gun used makes it easier to kill MORE people at once (and harder for the victims to defend themselves).

Dr. Nat Tracy, my Bible professor at Howard Payne University, defined freedom as “glad obedience to authority.” That definition applies in many areas of life. To drive safely, I need to follow reasonable laws designed to make driving safe. To make music, I need to follow rules of melody and harmony. If I want to own and use a firearm, my freedom to do so can and should be defined by our laws in a reasonable and safe manner.

Gun owners should welcome this healthy discussion regarding proper regulation and provide leadership to make it happen.

Thanksgiving Blessing: Be Near to Us, O God of Love, by Scott Dickison

Be Near to Us, O God of Love

(based on Psalm 36:5-9)

Be near to us, O God of love, all goodness in your sight.

In you we find the fount of life, Your radiance springs forth light.

Your steadfast love to heaven extends, Your faithfulness the clouds.

The mountains sing your righteousness, the deep your justice sounds.

How precious is your steadfast love, Creator of all things!

All people take their refuge in the shadow of your wings.

We in our hunger feast upon the bounty of your house,

And your great river of delights, we drink from even now.


NOTE from Bill Jones: Be Near to Us, O God of Love was written by Scott Dickison, pastor of First Baptist Church of Christ, Macon, GA. Scott recently completed a 2-year pastoral residency at Wilshire Baptist Church in Dallas. The Wilshire congregation sang Be Near to Us, O God of Love at Scott's Service of Blessing on Sunday, November 18. The Service of Blessing, a Wilshire tradition, was observed to recognize Scott's graduation from the Wilshire pastoral residency program and to ask God's blessing on his future service for Christ. Scott has graciously given his permission for TBC to publish this as a Thanksgiving blessing.

Ron Russey - Gone 33 years but forever present in my life

Thirty-three years ago tonight (funny, it was a Thursday that year, too), I received word that Ron Russey had been killed the night before - Halloween night, 1979 - while on his way from Colorado to lead a family life conference in a church in Texas. Earlier this year, I wrote a post entitled Thank God for the "giants" in our lives. I explained that what I call "giants" are those people who care enough to invest themselves in you, people who make a lasting difference in your life.

Ron Russey was such a "giant" for me. When he died, we had known each other for barely over 10 years. Ron was not quite 32 when he died, so he's been gone longer than he was here. But he made a lasting impact on my life, and I mourn the loss of the many encounters and conversations we would have had through the years had he not left so early.

I entered Oklahoma Baptist University (OBU) in the fall of 1969, thinking I had all the answers. I had grown up in Baptist churches, accepted Christ and was baptized shortly after turning 10 in 1961. In my teenage years, my church youth group and Youth Choir were at the center of my life. In my older teenage years, I became a leader among the youth and was even selected one year to serve as Youth Pastor in the annual service in which the youth led in worship.

From the time I was about 15, all I wanted to do with my life was become a minister of music. Our music minister, Joe Rust, became a friend and mentor to me. He and his wife, Martha, are still dear friends to me today, almost 50 years later.

So I entered OBU on a church music degree program. My faith? It was pretty basic. Looking back, I realize I had never really understood the nature and meaning of faith. For me, it was a set of facts, not to be questioned, not to be grappled with, just to be accepted as they were preached and taught in our church.

Did I have doubts? Yes and no. Yes, I remember having doubts about things like, fine, God created the universe, but how did God get here? and Can eternity really be eternal? I mean, really, world without end? Those kinds of doubts, but they were scary kinds of doubts, and I always quickly pushed them to the back of my mind. Out of sight, out of mind, before any other doubts could enter the room. I never dealt with them, just suppressed them. Never allowed myself to think about what I believed. That was too dangerous.

One of the first people I met at OBU was Ron Russey. I was assigned to a room on the 2nd floor of Section D in the center area of Brotherhood Dorm (down toward Storer Hall, for those OBU grads reading this). It was part of a suite. My roommate was Cary Wood, a junior. The other room of the suite was occupied by the resident assistant (RA) for the floor, Ron Russey, and his roommate, Tim Richardson.

Ron was a senior who, besides being RA, was president of the Baptist Student Union (BSU) that year. The following year, he returned as a 5th-year senior and served as president of the Ministerial Alliance (MA). He wasn't exactly what you think of, however, as a model BSU or MA president. Ron enjoyed drinking with his friends on the weekend, sometimes to excess. In other words, he enjoyed going out and having a good time, and it wasn't always the favored Baptist way of having a good time.

But Ron was serious about serving Christ. He had gone to East Pakistan as a summer missionary. He was very genuine about his service as both BSU president and MA president. He just didn't see any conflict between that and his personal idea of a good time.

Until November 1970, that is.

I lost my faith not gradually but in one fell swoop. One day in Western Civilization class, which was team-taught by a literature professor and a history professor, Dr. Bill Mitchell was teaching Dante's Inferno. As he taught, he uttered the words that forever and radically changed my life: There are no absolutes.

I don't remember the context in which he uttered those words; I'm sure it reflected something Dante had written, not a belief of Dr. Mitchell's. But in that moment, those words burrowed down to the deepest reaches of my mind and soul, and I realized, that's right, I can't absolutely prove any of this stuff I believe. And the bottom dropped out of my faith. Without a doubt, I know (though I can't prove it) that God was in that moment, tearing away the fragile fabric of my "facts" to make room for the faith that He wanted to build within me.

Ron Russey was one of the first persons with whom I shared this awful epiphany. Ron understood my confusion, and he cared. A few nights later, he called a meeting of all of those for whom he was responsible as RA. He confessed that night, in his best colloquial Oklahoma twang, "I ain't been doin' my job good." He went on to further confess that he had some "ethical things" about which he was pretty loose. His attitude, he said, had been that what he did in his personal life didn't affect others.

But my sudden faith crisis had sobered him. He told the guys assembled there about my new struggle and acknowledged that there were others there who were going through similar faith struggles. And he admitted that maybe the Apostle Paul knew what he was talking about when he admonished his readers - in various letters and various ways - to beware of causing others to "stumble," even if it meant sacrificing something "legal" and benign in most circumstances but a "stumbling block" to those in their sphere of influence. Maybe, Ron said, he should clean up his act so that he could better minister to the guys who needed his counsel and heeded his example.

Almost 9 years later, in the spring of 1979, we had been reunited, as Ron and his wife Carol had moved to Longmont, Colorado, where Ron pastored a small church. Joanna and I had moved to Denver 2 years earlier. In April, we went to Longmont to hear Ron preach and to spend the afternoon in their home. As Ron and I talked, he told me something similar to what he had said on that long-ago night in Brotherhood Dorm, that he had "toned down" his behavior of the past, because his ministry to the people of that church was important to him. Ron had no ambition to move to a bigger church or bigger town. Speaking of Longmont, he told me, "This place scares me." He had grown up in the even smaller town of Hobart, Oklahoma. He hated having to go to Denver occasionally - way too big and "scary." Ron was a minister, first and foremost - whether to his church, his friends, or his family.

Back there in 1970, Ron had sympathized with what I was going through. In numerous late-night bull sessions with Ron, Cary, and others, I began to learn how to search for a faith I could call my own. But besides those discussions, Ron pointed me to a man who also became instrumental in my search for faith - Jerry Barnes, pastor of University Baptist Church, across the street from the OBU campus. When Ron was growing up, Jerry had been his pastor in Hobart. Jerry had been a mentor and friend to Ron, and Ron knew that I needed that same influence at this critical time in my life. So Ron suggested that I go see Jerry Barnes.

I went to Jerry and was able to be totally honest, telling him that I no longer believed anything, but that I wasn't giving up, that I wanted to search for an authentic faith - but not my parents' faith, or the preacher's faith, or the Sunday School teacher's faith. No, this time, if I were to find faith, it had to be my own. Jerry invited me to join University Baptist Church. Jerry's preaching was different than anything I had ever heard. It challenged me to the deepest reaches of my soul and mind. Once a semester, I would go in and visit with Jerry in his office, share with him just where I was at this point in my struggle, and Jerry would help me take the next steps on the journey.

But I would never have gone to Jerry Barnes if Ron Russey hadn't prodded me to do so.

Ron was a good friend who cared about my relationship with God and did whatever he could to help me find my own way to God. Whether that meant talking with me in late-night bull sessions, or listening to me when I came to his room after a class, or pointing me to someone else who he knew would care about me just like he did, Ron took the time and effort to invest in my life.

The last time I saw Ron Russey was on Sunday, September 9, 1979. Joanna and I again drove up to Longmont, this time with my parents, who were visiting us. I wanted them to hear Ron preach and meet him. Ron asked me to sing a solo, so I sat on the podium that morning with my friend. Ron's sense of humor - oh, did I forget to mention that he had a wicked sense of humor? - took over that morning as we sat next to each other, sharing a hymnal.

"Jones," he whispered, "while you're singing your solo, don't be surprised if I suddenly get inspired and start speaking in tongues. But don't worry - there's a woman in the congregation who interprets tongues, my wife." So here we are, up in front of God and everybody, and I'm cracking up while we're supposed to be singing the hymn, and everyone's wondering, what's wrong with this guy, why is he laughing? Typical Russey!

Before we left that day, I made arrangements for Ron and Carol to visit us in Denver the following month. Then, the night before they were to visit, Ron called. An unscheduled deacons meeting had been called for the following night, and we would need to reschedule. On the phone, Ron thumbed through his appointments book, listing various upcoming obligations, including the family life conference in Texas. We finally had to settle on November 30. On October 31, Ron's car went off the road on an interstate highway, flipped, broke his neck, and he died instantly.

Ron Russey was one of those essential people that God put into my life at just the right time over the past 40+ years, people whom I owe for the many steps of this wonderful journey on which God has led me since that fateful 1970 day in Western Civ class.

But he was more than that. He was a trusted friend who cared. Joanna and I lived in Colorado for almost 8 more years after Ron died, and I've often lamented not being able to keep going to see Ron and talk about theology, or about Baptist life, particularly the monumental goings-on in Baptist life that had barely begun when he died. Oh, he would have had plenty to say about them. And I have no doubt about which "side" he would have been on, because Ron was always about freedom and grace. He was about ministering freely and authentically to the deepest of human needs.

Even when the giants in our lives are gone, they are still present in our lives, and so it is with Ron Russey. His influence is felt in everything I do, every service I present to Christ.

Thank God for the giants in our lives. Thank God for Ron Russey.