Many of you know that Eileen and I got caught in the recent East Coast snowstorm. Once we resigned ourselves to the fact that we would not be getting home in time for Sunday’s services, we decided to visit some of the “senior saints” who were part of the first congregation that I pastored (1989 – 1998) in Raleigh, North Carolina. When I think back to those visits of just a few days ago, here’s my summary: “What a joy!”

Here’s a pic of our dear friend, Victoria Stevens. At age 90, Vickie is still the Southern Belle par excellence. Now widowed and living alone, she still has her sense of humor, her poise, or her gracefulness. Most important: she still has her Savior. Said more correctly, He still has her. (Vickie told me I’m getting a little too “chubby.” #truthbomb)

Please let me clarify what I mean by that word “joy.” By “joy” I do not mean “happy and carefree.” By “joy” I do not mean “nonstop giddy laughter.” By “joy” I do not mean “easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

By “joy” I mean that I would not have wanted to be anywhere else on Earth! But, in fact, the visits were not easy. Many of the pillars of that church – the church family that loved me through the “teenage years” of my pastoral ministry – are now diving head-first into the harshest realities of aging. This was not easy for me to accept or admit. And certainly not easy for me to observe. (Some of you know that, when it comes to tears, I’m planted fairly close to the stream.)

Forgetfulness. Falls. Estrangement from family and friends. Problems with vision and hearing. Aches and pains. Sadness and loneliness. Loss of personal freedom and autonomy. Who’s ever in the mood to give up driving? No way.

Yes, their faith in Christ remains strong, but that doesn’t erase all of the ugliness of the conditions and situations this side of heaven. Sometimes I was tempted to ask, “Why, Lord, why?”

Grab your Bible and open to Psalm 71. As you read from God’s songbook, keep in mind that we really don’t know, in the case of this particular psalm – with absolute certainty, at least – the identity of the human writer. My best guess is David, and that he wrote it when Absalom rebelled. The harp and lyre sound like David to me, and there are other clues in my opinion. If my assumption is correct, David would have been in his early 60’s at the time – which was considered very old back then.

But regardless of the human writer, the ultimate Author is certain. God wrote this psalm for us. As you read it, and meditate on it, here are some thoughts for your pondering:

1. If I am going to delight in God when I am old, then I better get to know him well while I am young, and still able to hide His word in my heart. Since some of my abilities will dull as I age, now is the time to fortify my soul with spiritual truth.

2. If I am going to trust God when I am old – when I am standing on the brink of eternity – then I better not forget all of the trials through which He has safely steered me. I should write down my victories now, and tell as many people as I can. Maybe at least one of them will remember to remind me of God’s faithfulness TO ME when I need it most.

3. If I am going to praise God in the midst of the storms of my old age, then I better practice praising Him now. Today can be a foretaste of heaven, so I don’t want to miss it for the temporal lures of this world.

Be to me a rock of refuge, to which I may continually come … for you, O Lord are my hope … my praise is continually of you … forsake me not when my strength is spent … and I will praise you yet more and more!

Christ is our refuge … when we are young, and when we are old, and every moment in between. He is our hope today, and forever.

Pastor Charles

Since the Fall of humankind, people have taken advantage of other people (or gone down trying). This is sin’s way. The Scriptures are replete with examples: Jacob’s and Laban’s shenanigans (Genesis); Rehoboam’s unjust labor policies (First Kings), Haman’s murderous ploy (Esther). Those are just for starters, and little has changed across the spectrum of successive generations. From Persia to Peoria, that’s the way it really is.

Thankfully, the Bible’s backdrop is not human merit, but divine grace. Grace wins. We don’t get past Jacob’s story before we see that.

But that’s not my attempt to minimize, in any way, the plight of those who are victimized, marginalized, and hurting. Our sins against each other levy heavy tolls this side of heaven. (That’s why we need grace in the first place.)

Where people are hurting and struggling to make it, there should be our heart. Because there is the heart of our God! We observe God’s unfathomable compassion for the down-and-out on nearly every page of Scripture. God selected a nation of slaves to be His own special people – His own peculiar inheritance. He sent angels with good news to poor shepherds. He loves widows and orphans, and calls you and me to do the same. Our high and holy calling is to minister to the suffering, to visit the imprisoned, to bear the sorrows of those around us, and to protect the defenseless unborn.

Some of those around us are suffering because of poor personal choices and careless sins. Others are suffering because life on this fallen planet sometimes, well, hurts.

But your calling and my calling is to love, as we have been loved (John 13:34-35). To be on the lookout for opportunities to display such a magnanimous heart may not square with all of our friends, with pop culture, or with self-help ethics, but LOVE ought to be how you and I live (and how we feel). After all, we are in Christ. Thankfully, Jesus was – and indeed is – the friend of sinners. In my mind’s eye, I can see Him pursuing the woman at the well as if she were the only person on Earth.

Charles Spurgeon preached: “A vague notion is abroad in the world that the benefit of Christ’s passion is intended only for good people. The preaching of some ministers, and the talk of some professors, would lead the uninstructed to imagine that Christ came into the world to save the righteous, to call the godly to repentance, and to heal those who never were sick.” 1862 or 2016, it’s really much the same.

Christ is Lord. He is head of the body. We are His, the various and sundry parts of His body. By His resurrection power, at work even now in and through us, you and I are being transformed from scattered, fearful, and faithless doubters – like the apostles – into world-changers. All for Christ’s glory. We must remember that once, a long time ago, a little band of disciples who were maligned and persecuted swelled in faith and grace until they filled Jerusalem with gospel truth. And the rest is global history.

Chris Tomlin sings:

“Our God, You reign forever

Our hope, our Strong Deliverer

You are the everlasting God

The everlasting God

You do not faint

You won’t grow weary

You’re the defender of the weak

You comfort those in need

You lift us up on wings like eagles …”

Our God is the defender of the weak! For this we give Him thanks and praise.

Pastor Charles

Monday night Eileen and I were blessed by our dear friends from SoCal, Scott and Jody, who joined us for dinner and a time of reconnecting and fellowship. Sweet!

As is often the case when old comrades get together, our conversation eventually migrated toward our spiritual lives – and soon after that we were talking about our consistent need to keep Christ at the center of everything. This is not always easy, as you know, as so many of the demands of the “daily grind” often tilt us off-center and away from our abiding source of hope and joy. Before long, Christ feels distant – though we are the ones who have strayed.

I know that a number of you have taken up Bible-reading plans for 2016. That’s fantastic, but I have a challenge for you: Look for Christ on every page! When Christ becomes our consistent Bible hermeneutic (method or principle of interpretation), we can be sure that we are reading the Scriptures in the way that will yield the greatest spiritual rewards.

Nancy Leigh DeMoss (now Wolgemuth) says it like this: “Sometimes I am reading in parts [of the Bible] that don’t seem to have anything to do with Jesus. You get into those heavy parts of the Old Testament. One of the things in my subconscious that I am mindful of when I am reading in the Scripture is how does this picture Christ? How does it point me to Christ? That is not always easy to see. But if you’re asking that question, you’re going to be seeing Christ throughout the Scripture. It is His story. This is the redemptive story from beginning to end.

“How does Jesus show up in the Garden of Eden? Ask yourself that question as you’re reading the Scripture. The answer won’t always be obvious, but at least you’ll be more tuned in. When God clothed Adam and Eve in their nakedness because they were ashamed and guilty after they sinned, He killed animals, and out of those skins made clothes for Adam and Eve. Do we not see here an Old Testament foreshadowing of the sacrifice of Christ, who was killed, the slain lamb of God so that we could be clothed in His righteousness? Look for Jesus in the Scripture. Ask the Holy Spirit to show you. I think that will help you keep a fresh love for Christ.”

The more we see Christ for who He really is, the more we will love Him. That’s as it should be, because you and I can expect to be tested in our love for Christ. The enemy is not going to sit back and do nothing as we take up God’s Word and fall more and more in love with our Savior and Lord. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, martyred for God’s glory amidst the horrors of the German Nazis, wrote in The Cost of Discipleship: “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”

Jesus speaks to each one of us: “Take up your cross and follow me” (Luke 9:23). That is no plea for halfhearted commitment, but is rather a clarion call to full-blown discipleship. A discipleship that, by Christ’s own description, must include denial of self, daily discipline, and the loss of one’s own life in order to gain the very life of Christ. It is my contention that all of that prayerful rigor is a part of keeping Christ at the center of all things: my mind, my heart, my theology, my worldview, my vocation, and even all of my relationships.

I do not write these things to discourage you in the new year, but to prepare you for the new year. Readiness for the tests that lie ahead should be encouragement for us to face each day with confidence in our more-than-faithful God.

So keep looking for Jesus, friends. He is alive and well, and He desires to be passionately pursued by us (Jeremiah 29:13). Like Nancy said, the whole Bible is His story. In that special revelation first and foremost, as well as in the general revelation happening all around us, Christ still speaks. May our ears be attentive to His voice as the promises of this new year come to life! He is all we really need. By His grace and for His glory, let’s keep Christ central.

Pastor Charles

Merry Christmas from our home to yours! While the moment is here, let’s make much of Christ.

Our Lord Jesus was born amidst the most humble surroundings to show us God’s opinion of human pride. This season ought to be when we delight not in what we might get, but in what we have already received: “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). God has visited us! And, because of that, you and I will never bethe same. Eternity is ours, because we are His. If you will allow me to borrow from C.S. Lewis (1952): “Look for Christ and you will find Him. And with Him, everything else.”

For you, dearest friends, I pray the riches of Christ.

Another year has passed, and God has faithfully led our faith family forward by Christ’s grace. I’m so grateful to be on the journey with you. First Baptist Paducah is a remarkable place to lead in pastoral ministry, and I thank you for the honor, privilege, and joy of serving as your senior pastor.

Walt Disney was right about a number of things, but I take issue with him on one point. The happiest place on Earth is not Disneyland. The happiest place on Earth is with you.

This Christmas, my cup runneth over.

With love and affection,

Pastor Charles

for Eileen and Joshua

You may already know that this year marks the fiftieth anniversary of the animated television special, A Charlie Brown Christmas, which was written by Charles M. Schulz – and which made its debut on December 9, 1965. In ways, for me at least, it doesn’t feel quite like Christmas without a delightful dose of the Peanuts gang. Who doesn’t enjoy their jazzy scores, timeless themes, and simple animation? And, in the case of A Charlie Brown Christmas, Charles Schulz had to insist upon the inclusion of Luke 2:8-14 as the story’s climax: “And that’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown!”

The Scripture is quoted (from the King James Bible) by Linus, in response to Charlie Brown’s lament: “Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?” When Charles Schulz originally proposed this, the show’s producer, Lee Mendelson, as well as its director, Bill Melendez, expressed their serious concerns. Melendez warned Schulz: “It’s very dangerous for us to start talking about religion now.” Schulz’s answer was quite simple: “Bill, if we don’t, who will?”

So have some fun with me, if you will, and watch that scene again. Click here for the video. It will take less than two minutes of your time.

If you’re like me, nostalgia will take over in a wonderful way. You remember Linus, don’t you? He never went anywhere without his near-famous blanket. The blanket was first introduced in the Peanuts comic strip in 1954, and was featured throughout the remainder of the strip’s run. Whenever the blanket appears, Linus can be seen carrying it around and sucking his thumb. Various storylines involve Lucy trying to do away with the blanket, disapproval of it from Linus’ unseen grandmother, and Snoopy frequently trying to steal it for himself. The blanket also transforms for use in a plethora of other ways, from a cummerbund to a bullfighter’s cape.

In the Peanuts strips from the later years, Linus sometimes wants to rid himself of blanket-dependence, even though he understands what a mess he is without it. On one occasion Linus attempts to persuade Charlie Brown and Snoopy to take away his blanket and refuse to give it back – no matter how much Linus begs for it. That sounds a lot like you and me – dependent on things we know (somewhere deep inside) we don’t really need.

But back to the scene from A Charlie Brown Christmas. As you watch the video clip, pay careful attention to the blanket. As Linus quotes the angel of the Lord speaking to the shepherds – right when he says, “Fear not!” – Linus drops his security blanket. And he doesn’t pick it up for the remainder of the scene in which he tells Charlie Brown the Christmas story.

Was the blanket drop intentional on the part of Charles Schulz? For a man of such creatively detailed significance, I’m rather sure that it must have been. It’s the most profound moment in the story, and it’s a startling revelation in the life of one of its most important characters.

Does not that “Fear not!” apply to us as well? The angel’s “tidings of great joy” are also our reason to celebrate. Christ has come! He lived for us. He died for us. He rose again for us!

I am in touch with at least a few of my own fears, but I don’t know yours. But I do know that all of our fears stem from what appear to be (to us, at least in the moment) very real threats. And I also know that Christ has come to set us free from all our fears (Second Timothy 1:7). Our greatest enemy, death, He has fully conquered on our behalf (John 14:19). Christ owns yesterday, and Christ owns tomorrow. Christ authors human history. Christ is King of kings, and Lord of lords, forever. For those of us who are in Christ (Romans 8:28), all is well.

In regard to whatever we’ve been hanging onto for security, other than Christ, the time has come. The moment is now. The season of peace is upon us.

So go ahead. Drop it!

Pastor Charles

Nobody liked the tax collectors all that much, but if you were the “chief” tax collector – and wealthy on top of that – you were particularly shunned and reviled. Such was the story of Zacchaeus (Luke 19:1-10). I’ve always liked that “wee little man,” Zacchaeus. Maybe it’s because I’m convinced that the taller people wouldn’t let him stand in front so he could see. I tend to vote for the underdog.

Everyone knew Zacchaeus, because this was one of the three regional tax centers in the land of Israel: the northern one being Capernaum, the central one on the coast being Caesarea, and the southern one being Jericho. Caught up in his materialism, no doubt, Zacchaeus had a heart that was blinded by money. At least at first. That was before Jesus came to town. Jesus was headed through Jericho up to Jerusalem for the Passover. This would be His last time. So Christ arrived at the City of Palms, as it was called, six miles north of the Dead Sea and six miles west of the Jordan River.

In the Bible’s account of that day, it’s possible for us to read past what Zacchaeus did. After all, he’s most remembered for climbing a tree. And what’s the big deal about climbing some tree? In the culture of that day, what mattered most to people was a sense of dignity, honor, and respect. A grown man would never climb a tree. To do so would be saying to whole world: “Please ridicule me, starting now!” But height-challenged Zacchaeus didn’t care. He just wanted to see the Lord.

So there was high-profile (not literally, of course) Zacchaeus in a tree. Meanwhile, all the religious people were looking on – already ready to pounce on this notorious “sinner” if given even half a chance. So Jesus chose Zacchaeus as the one to whom He would extend friendship. That’s what staying with someone meant – even just sharing a meal – it meant relationship. This offended everyone. Except Zacchaeus. And that’s usually how grace works. The recipient is blown away by the absolutely undeserved joy of it all, while the religious hypocrites – who seem always within arm’s length – have some version of a fit (at least internally).

As for Zacchaeus, his life was changed forever. That’s also how grace works. We are saved “for good works” (Ephesians 2:10). In the case of Zacchaeus, some of those works included giving 50% of his income to the poor. And paying back everything he had ever stolen with 300% interest. Now that was radical, especially for a guy who – ten minutes ago – loved his stuff more than anything else on Earth. This man, who had made a fortune at the expense of others, had to become poor. So that he could become rich. Again, all of grace.

Pause and rewind. Back to that tree. I want you to picture little Zacchaeus up in that tall tree. He must have looked something like an animated Christmas ornament! And what was happening there? Hated Zacchaeus was beholding, with his very own eyes, Love. Love was passing by. And the town reject – that despicable and despised dude who was regarded by the crowd at Jericho as inferior to a prostitute – enjoyed a bird’s-eye view of the Son of God who had come “to seek and to save the lost.” For a moment in time, that tree – which may well have become somebody’s firewood soon thereafter – must have sparkled with the brilliance of a thousand diamonds. Verdant beauty? I don’t know. But beauty for sure. And in my mind’s eye, Zacchaeus is precariously perched there, grinning from ear to ear!

When it was all over, Luke recorded these words of Jesus: “Salvation has come.”

Maybe the first Christmas tree was a sycamore.

Pastor Charles

A Muslim couple stormed a holiday office party in Southern California on Wednesday, gunning down fourteen people – and seriously wounding others – before dying hours later in a shootout with police. The pair had with them a huge arsenal of ammunition, bombs, and high-powered assault weapons. Mounting evidence suggests that these were radicalized jihadists, complete with tactical gear and precision murderous movements. Later more than 5000 rounds of ammunition were found in their home, described as “an IED factory” of explosives and bomb-making equipment.

All is not well in our homeland. At this time of the year when we celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace, we recognize the sad consequences of human depravity this side of heaven. And, instead of seeing people turning to Christ in record proportions, we continue to witness the cultural marginalization of Scriptural truth. A church weakened in zeal and influence. Admittedly the path of least resistance is discouragement, doom, and gloom. But perhaps we should consider the amazing prayer offered to God by the believers in Acts 4:29-30 – after Peter and John had been arrested, interrogated, and released. Surely it is an example for us of courageous faith under fire: “… Lord, look upon their threats and grant to your servants to continue to speak your word with all boldness, while you stretch out your hand to heal …”

What had caused all the trouble for Peter and John? In a nutshell, it was the resurrection of Jesus. To offer the living hope of the gospel has always been among our most egregious offenses in the minds and hearts of those who reject Christ. But offer Christ, and Christ’s hope, we must. Were not the angel’s first two words to the shepherds, “Fear not”? Then our song of praise we must continue to raise.

You may remember reading Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol (1843). A Christmas caroler arrives at the dingy counting-house of Ebenezer Scrooge and begins to sing: “God bless you, merry gentlemen! May nothing you dismay!” Scrooge reacts with such violent anger that the terrified singer flees, “leaving the keyhole to the fog and even more congenial frost.” Yes, Dickens adapted the language a bit. (You had to be paying really close attention to catch that.) The original hymn line was “God rest ye merry, gentlemen …” It was a transitive use of the verb “rest” – as in “keep, cause to continue to remain.” “Rest” would have made plenty of sense in the sixteenth or seventeenth century – but had lost its punch by Dickens’ day – so Dickens chose “bless” instead.

Dickens also tweaked the punctuation just a tad, putting the comma before “merry” instead of after. This is a common mistake. The only reason I’m mentioning it is to remind us that we’re not “merry gentlemen” on our own. We have to be kept merry. Any happiness we ever know, or that we ever will know, must originate in God – and not in us. Happiness – blessedness – emanates from God. You and I simply receive grace.

The main theme of the carol is that joy reigns on Christmas Day – and indeed every day, and for eternity – because of God’s great gift of His Son, Jesus Christ! For us. So you and I should think of “rest merry” like we think of “rest assured” – that is what the song is meant to convey. We can “rest merry” in the knowledge that Christ has paid our penalty for going astray. Christ has set us free from the penalty, the power, and (one day soon) even the presence of sin.

I don’t know about you, but I’m hoping that we can recover the “rest” in our day.

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Pastor Charles

“The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms …” (Deuteronomy 33:27).

As we quickly approach Thanksgiving, let me add one more thing for which we ought to give thanks: the immanence of God. By “immanence” I mean specifically to refer to God’s closeness. We can know Him. We can experience His presence. We can personally delight in His truth. Our great God is not just high and exalted, but He is near. This reality should blow our minds, while calming our troubled hearts.

When you and I take up the Scriptures, there is Christ in His “living and active” Word. When we behold the wonders of the created order, there is the Spirit of Christ whispering in our ear God’s power and glory. When we remember the cross, there is our present security even amidst life’s uncertainties.

My cousin Theresa has a daughter, Kendra, who just became a mom (at 6:51 a.m. today in fact). Ella Grace Wadsworth comes into the world already deeply loved. Her parents will do everything in their limited power to protect and provide for her.

But even better, our Heavenly Father knows no limits in His abilities to care for us. He has shown us His grace in extraordinary ways, and proven His enduring love by Christ’s meritorious triumph over sin and death. Almost inexplicably, God delights in us.

Martin Luther (c. 1529) got it right: “A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing.” Christ has won! We are safe. We are loved. We belong to the One whose arms are everlasting.

Experience. Enjoy. Celebrate. Give thanks.

Pastor Charles

I’m quoting Habakkuk (1:2): “O LORD, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear? Or cry to you ‘Violence!’ and you will not save?”

It was another day when those words were penned, but something about that day was much like our own: God’s people were deeply afflicted by grief as they observed ungodliness and violence prevail. Even when they looked upon the ways of their own people, real righteousness and justice seemed eclipsed by hatred and lies.

We stare out today upon a world which seems to be descending into disarray on a number of levels, but we’re called to trust our God who orders all things well. I think that, because God knows that His ways at times appear more-than-molasses-style “slow” to us, in His mercy He has given us the Scriptures. The Bible, which required millennia to assemble, shows us that God is not in fact slow – but that instead He is patient in working out His redemptive purposes in the ways that are ultimately best (Second Peter 3:9).

It’s easier for me to wait when I remember that I’m waiting on a perfect plan. (I’d like to tell you that I wait patiently, like God, but I’m not that far along yet.)

Is Paris a foreshadowing of our future? Only the Lord knows. But many of us are at least thinking twice when we step into a jam-packed sporting event or a crowded theater, or when we board a plane or a train. Dangers are everywhere else too, of course, but specific venues and locales which seem like easy targets for terrorism capture our attention for at least a moment. The philosopher and apologist Ravi Zacharias says it like this: “War in small increments can be deadlier than large-scale war because it doesn’t just desensitize the killers; it desensitizes all of humanity.”

Even as I pen these very words, Mali unfolds. More traumatized hostages, this time in the Malian capital of Bamako. The social media are replete with the notoriety craved by present-day terror groups – who seem to live or die based on the widespread fear they can inflict. For several hours this morning, gunmen held some 170 guests and employees at what was considered one of the safest hotels in the West African city. At least 27 are dead.

Are we desensitized yet? O Lord, how long?

You and I may get tired of waiting for peace and justice to prevail, personally and globally, but even the most throbbing pain of our waiting should always include at least a spoonful of hope. We’ve read the story. We know who wins in the end! Christ has gone before us, friends, so you and I follow not into darkness and chaos – but into light and victory!

The Church of Scotland minister and New Testament scholar, James Stuart Stewart (1896-1990) made this keen observation: “The very triumphs of His foes … [Christ] used for their defeat. He compelled their dark achievements to subserve His end, not theirs. They nailed Him to the tree, not knowing that by that very act they were bringing the world to His feet. They gave Him a cross, not guessing that He would make it a throne. They flung Him outside the gates to die, not knowing that in that very moment they were lifting up all the gates of the universe, to let the King come in. They thought to root out His doctrines, not understanding that they were implanting imperishably in the hearts of men the very name they intended to destroy. They thought they had defeated God with His back the wall, pinned and helpless and defeated: they did not know that it was God Himself who had tracked them down. He did not conquer in spite of the dark mystery of evil. He conquered through it.”

You and I are more than conquerors (Romans 8:37)! But the story is never really about us. Little is known about our brother Habakkuk. One day soon, little will be known about us. But may every new chapter of human history – both the changes we welcome and the changes we fear – exalt the unfading faithfulness of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Pastor Charles

An academy is an institution of higher learning or research, and the word “academy” can be traced back to Plato’s school of philosophy. When I think of “the academy” in general, I think of distinguished authorities within a field of scholarship who determine helpful standards, and who prescribe appropriate methods, and who critique (in the healthiest way) the latest ideas within their field – all the while passing along the passionate pursuit of their subject matter to the next generation.

When it was time for me to choose a college, I chose the University of Kentucky. I wanted a public, large-campus academic setting where professors and students would come from multiple backgrounds and perspectives – and where the sky would be the limit in terms of academic majors and postgraduate degree programs as well. My university studies followed a liberal arts trajectory, with much of my coursework in Spanish and political science (my undergraduate major and minor, respectively). Since many of my courses were in the Patterson School of Diplomacy, I witnessed liberal and conservative professors working together for the common good. Within the broadly more liberal academic environment that typifies a state school, the Patterson School included its fair share of outspoken conservatives, whose voices were – from my perspective – welcome at the table of ideas that represented U.K. academics.

The vision for the Patterson School came originally from Dr. James Kennedy Patterson, U.K.’s first president. The 1898 Spanish-American War convinced Dr. Patterson that a new school was needed to prepare young adults for “the diplomatic and consular service of the United States.” Patterson used as his model the programs that he had observed at Harvard, Stanford, Chicago, Cornell, and Yale. And the Patterson School, during my tenure as a student at U.K., was a robust marketplace of scholarship and academic inquiry. Thus, that experience became my understanding of university education.

What I see today, at least from a distance, is drastically distinct from that. In my opinion, what is happening at the University of Missouri is symptomatic of a deeper cultural fissure that underlies and threatens the foundation of American life. Though I decry racism in all its manifestations, I fear that the Mizzou problem is not really about racism. I fear that it is – in the name of “tolerance” – actually the dismantling of tolerance. Have we raised a generation of young adults who can no longer tolerate an opinion other than their own? Is this the result of the drive for self-esteem, only on steroids? (Wasn’t self-esteem for everybody supposed to fix everything?) And are we not witnessing firsthand what happens when the pursuit of political correctness is allowed to trump every other virtue in a civilized society? What most concerns me about Mizzou is the climate that caused a university president to resign based on charges that were only that – charges. Why would he not wait confidently for sound reason, common sense, and the truth to prevail? My best guess is that he had little hope that the truth would prevail.

What most concerns me about the climate of “the academy” today is the systematic erosion of freedom of speech, which is in fact the death of the freedom of conscience. (On that same train will depart that old bothersome baggage of religious liberty as well.) How can academic administrators protect every student from hearing anything that said student does not want to hear? Is that even the administrator’s job? And, were it even possible to create such an academic environment, how would that prepare anyone for real life in a pluralistic society like our own?

We can enjoy no academic integrity unless we also have honesty and respect, along with large doses of personal responsibility. Having nearly abandoned all three, I am afraid that we have created our own monster. And it’s hard to run away from our own monster. The colorful New York City attorney, Hiram Mann, published these lines in The Wall Street Journal in 1947:

No man escapes when freedom fails,

The best ones rot in filthy jails;

While those who cried, “Appease, appease!”

Are hanged by men they tried to please.

And let me simply add this about the nature of truth itself: sometimes the truth hurts. Pontius Pilate didn’t like that fact either – we see that in his “What is truth?” (John 18:38) – but that didn’t change the fact that it was fact. You may remember that snarky Pilate, right before he delivered Jesus to be crucified, pulled that one out of his hat in an attempt to save his own hide. Pilate had been adept in his acquisition of the throne, and he would prove just as adept (under Rome’s watchful eye) at maintaining his power at all costs. Truth is: truth did not matter to Pilate. And Pilate understood that truth did not matter to Jesus’ accusers either – though they championed themselves as the guardians of truth.

But truth is still truth.

It is more than ironic that Pilate would ask the question “What is truth?” … while staring Truth itself right in the eye.

May we not do the same.

Pastor Charles