These days, according to baseball people, Yankee star Alex Rodriguez is “in a good place.” That means he’s hitting and fielding well. Having come through tons of personal problems–most of his own doing, if I’m any judge–and physical difficulties, he’s now living up to the hype that has surrounded him through the years.

Yankee skipper Joe Girardi said on TV the other night, “Alex is in a good place.” A few minutes later, Rodriguez said, “I’m in a good place right now.” And sure enough, someone else said it of him a minute or two later. Apparently, it’s the hip testimonial du jour.

I identify with the term.

To be “in a good place” to me, as a minister of the Gospel, means you’ve reached a point in your spiritual and professional development where you are doing your best work.

It will seem strange to some for me to make that kind of assessment about my own preaching. But it’s true. Absolutely true.

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Later this morning, as I write, I’ll walk into the fellowship hall of the First Baptist Church of Lanett, Alabama, and address their deacons in an abbreviated (30 minute) synopsis of what is normally a 2-3 hour training session.

I’ve done it in an evening and a morning, in two hours, and now in 30 minutes. I’ve done it in a roomful of deacons from several cities and in one church that had no deacons but wanted their potential leaders to have the training. Flexibility.

Being retired, I’m trying to take most of the invitations that come my way, although obviously if a date is already committed, the answer is “sorry; please ask me next time.”

I’m learning what full-time evangelists and consultants know all too well: be prepared for anything. Two weeks ago, the host church put me up in a bed and breakfast. Last week, it was an apartment in the home of a member. This week, it’s the Holiday Inn Express. (Next week, I’m home!)

I’m in Alabama, but oddly, it’s the Eastern Time Zone. There’s a little section of the state that abuts Georgia and that state’s time zone seeped over here, I suppose. (They say it goes back to when locals worked at mills just across the Georgia line and in order to avoid confusion about times, this area changed from Central to Eastern time. The mills have all shut down, but the change remains.)

Churches, I’m finding–although I guess I knew this–are all alike and completely different.

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I was reflecting this morning on the need for healthy, sound reasoning in the pulpit and the pew from something Paul told his protege Titus.

“The overseer (another word for an elder or pastor) must be above reproach as the steward of God, not self-willed, not angry, not a lover of wine, not pugnacious (one who loves a good fight), and not after anyone’s money.

“He should be given to hospitality, a lover of what is good, clear-headed, just, devout, and self-controlled….” (Titus 1:7-8)

The expression “common sense” isn’t found there, but it sure is implied, to my thinking.

A friend said, “Our church has women deacons. Do you have a problem with that?”

I said, “I just finished a deacon training thing for a church in South Carolina with women deacons. I’ve never pastored a church that had them, but I served a couple that could have benefited from some strong, godly women in those meetings!”

I told him, “To me, it’s a decision the congregation makes. In the same way the church chooses what role it wants its deacons to fulfill, whether to minister, take a more administrative function, or be the outright leaders.”

Common sense. What do we need our deacons to do? The line from Acts 6 says, “Choose seven from among you whom we may put in charge of this need.”

What is your church’s need? That’s usually where you’ll want your deacons.

A friend reminded me today of the devastating power of a common sensical word well spoken.

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I’m on the side of the church, make no mistake. But at a time when the church of the Lord Jesus Christ is under siege from all sides, forces on the INSIDE threaten to do it the greatest damage.

For my money, the two most destructive forces at work within the congregation of the people of God are the wreckers and the sleepers. The bullies and the wimps. The tyrants and the meek little lambs.

A friend told me a little group ran off the pastor from a church where his mother belongs. The man was a terrific minister, he said, and had the support of the congregation, but a few people made life miserable for him and forced him out. When my friend asked his mother why the “good people” in the congregation didn’t rise up and take a stand, she replied:

“Well, someone has to act like a Christian in these things.”

That, I suggest to you, is 50 percent of the problem. Confronting evil doers inside the congregation is seen by many as “acting unChristian.”

In a typical congregation of Christian people, no matter the denomination, you will find some of the nicest people on the planet. They are peaceful and loving, generous and kind-hearted. They like to serve and give, to teach and help. But there is one thing they shy away from above all else:

Confrontation.

To put it bluntly, they wimp out at the very time when the Lord’s church–its ministries, its missions, its outreach, its unity–is under siege.

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“Will you not revive us again, that your people may rejoice in you?” (Psalm 85:6)

Everyone has his own opinion on revival, what it means, how to recognize it when it arrives, how to coax it into being, and what to do then.

Here’s mine.

When I was 15 years old, Dad drove my little brother Charlie and me five miles around the highway to get to the back side of our property. Our large, mean, ugly, belligerent (get the idea?) bull had broken out of the pasture and a neighbor had penned him up. Without a truck to haul him in–we were not your typical idea of a prosperous farm family–Charlie and I were going to have to lead him across the fields and through the woods back home.

Dad tied a rope around the bull’s horns and handed me the end. “Charlie, you push. Joe, you lead.”

Oh yeah.

That bull did not want to go anywhere. Pulling on the rope to get him started was something like tugging on a Greyhound bus to start it rolling. To say Charlie was pushing is not exactly right. Getting anywhere close to that animal’s back legs was risking one’s life. But we did the best we could.

After a bit, the bull got the idea and began to trot. Since he was headed in the right direction, we were pleased and ran along beside him.

Then, he decided to leave us behind.

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The sign in front of a Birmingham area repair shop seems to be part of a continuing conversation: “We’re Open. All is Well.”

In last Sunday’s Parade magazine, actress Sela Ward talks about turning 50. (We all should look so good at the half-century mark!) For her birthday bash, her family wrote on the barn: “Sela is turning 50–it’s all good.”

A personalized license plate this morning read: “IBAOK.” We take that to mean the owner is claiming he/she is “A-OK.”

Good for them. It’s great to feel good and good to feel great.

Many a church member will tell you their favorite song in the church hymnal is the uplifting “It is Well With My Soul.”

Come on now.

Let’s be honest here.

All is not well, not in the world, not in this country, and to our great sorrow and ultimate shame, not even in Christendom.

There’s trouble in River City; Houston, we have a problem.

There’s trouble inside the house of God.

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Georgia fans have a right to complain over the penalty their football team was given last Saturday afternoon as their guy scored with about a minute left in the game with our LSU Tigers.

Following the Georgia TD, the fans were ecstatic and the players were jubilant, running around hugging one another.

That’s when the referee threw the flag and penalized Georgia for a weird infraction (only added to the football rules in recent years) known as “excessive celebration.”

This meant the ensuing kickoff to LSU would take place from deep in Georgia territory (can’t recall the exact numbers here, but that’s irrelevant) and would give LSU an extra advantage. If you watched the game, you know what happened: a few plays later, LSU crossed the goal line with a TD of their own, and ended up winning the game.

Incidentally, the LSU team was likewise flagged for excessive celebration. By then, however, the clock had almost wound down, making it meaningless.

Now, LSU fans–responding to their Georgia friends’ complaint that that penalty might have turned the game around–respond that when running back Charles Scott made the final 20 (or so) yard TD run, he could have just as easily have trotted another 20 or 30 yards. It appears no one could have stopped him and he could easily have still been running a week later.

But that does not ease Georgia’s pain. To its credit, the Southeast Conference has issued apologies this week. The commissioner promises to caution their referees not to be over-zealous in enforcing a rule intended to stop taunting.

Some of us had a little fun with the “excessive celebration” thing. On Facebook, I wrote something like: “I think I’ve figured out what happened with that penalty. After all, who are the most phobic on the subject of ‘excessive celebrations?’ Clearly, the referees were Episcopalians! (Or maybe members of some First Baptist churches we know.)” I added, “Anyone smiling?” in an attempt to keep anyone from taking it all too seriously.

Among the interesting comments was this: “We know the referees were not Baptists because in the end zone they were raising both hands.”

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I’m away from home in revival this week. As usual, I brought along a number of books to read, several Bibles, and plenty of notepaper for working on sermons, drawing cartoons, and such. One of the books was a western.

“Lonely on the Mountain” is a “Sackett” novel by the king of westerns, Louis L’Amour. I picked it up somewhere along the way and have been reading it in the cracks of time when my brain needs a rest from heavier matters.

Something about this novel surprised me, and provides an insight into a matter we pastors face in sermon-building and preaching.

It’s a great story, as westerns go. L’Amour in his prime was as good as they come in delivering a tale of the old west. The Sacketts are a fictitious Tennessee mountain clan that has moved west. The various brothers and generations provided L’Amour material for 15 or 20 novels over the decades.

In this story, one of the Sackett brothers sends a cryptic SOS to his family from a remote Canadian village. His kinfolk come a-running. Most of the book details their adventures as they pull together supplies, cross prairies driving a herd, encounter Indians and outlaws, and gradually try to piece together what their brother meant by his plea for help.

The plot thickens, as the saying goes, as it builds toward a climatic showdown. And that’s where the problem with the book arose.

Finally, the rescuers arrive at the Canadian outpost on page 185 of the 194-page book. At this point, I have decided this must be part of a two-volume telling of this tale because there is no way this story can be resolved in the remaining 9 pages.

But it was.

Actually, the story just fizzled out. After building us up and teasing us along, Louis L’Amour punted. In the final 9 pages, the disparate clan members meet up and learn the problem in the village, have their obligatory gun battle, learn the answer to some of the riddles that have puzzled them during their drive west, and close the story.

It was awful.

Clearly, L’Amour got bored with his story and decided to put it out of its misery. His readers be hanged.

What I wish he had done was to lay it aside for a few days or weeks or even longer and work on something else before returning to it.

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[This is a repeat of an article we did in July of 2008. Please feel

timely subject or greater need in our congregations.]

Ask any church leader why America–or the churches in general or a denomination in particular or all Christians–does not (do not) have revival and the answers will usually come out to something like: “We’re not praying,” or “We’re not praying hard enough,” or “This takes prayer and fasting.”

Today, I spent an hour on the internet reading some of the hundreds of websites on the subject of revival. Those that attempt to cover the subject of why we are not experiencing revival usually attribute it to sin, complacency, or prayerlessness.

Maybe they’re right, but it seems to me those answers are missing the point.

The reason we’re not having revival may indeed be that we’re not praying for one. After all, Scripture assures us that “you have not because you ask not.” (James 4:2)

But that just leads to the question of why we’re not praying for revival. The answer, I strongly suggest, is simple: we don’t want a revival. We like things the way they are.

I said it and will stand by it: we do not want revival. The churches don’t, the church members don’t, and very few of the pastors want a genuine Heaven-sent revival.

After all, revival means change, and we don’t want change. We’re too comfortable the way things are at the present.

I used to have an elderly man in my last church who showed up for services from time to time mainly because of his wife. Once when I was visiting in their home, I learned that five years earlier, he had had a heart bypass operation. His wife said, “And pastor, the doctor ordered him to walk several blocks a day, but he won’t do it.”

I tried to shame him a little. After all, the walking was for his own good and might prolong his life. He said, “Preacher, the reason I don’t walk is simple. Walking interferes with my routine.”

His wife scoffed, “What routine! Pastor, he goes to the casino!”

He lived two more years, still spending his days with the slot machines.

That, in a word, is why the great masses of Christians do not pray for nor desire revival: it would interfere with their routine.

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