“For Rent”

Driving through town, I love to see new construction taking place. The people hired out for the various construction jobs love to “see” this even more, I’m sure. Setting the debate about consumerism and American culture aside for a moment, seeing new construction builds in my heart a reassurance that fresh vision and passionate dreams still abound. There are risk-takers still among us, and there are energetic human support beams lining these cathedrals of leadership innovation.

By contrast, a wet, mildewy insulation fills my heart, when I glance upon a worn-out building, overgrown with weedy-shrubbery and posting a sign “For Rent.” I wonder who in their right minds would buy into such a venture. And yet the building’s owner is hoping against hope for someone to do just that.

A few miles outside the city-limits of Lamar, SC, such a building exists (or existed, depending on your view point). At one time it was a double drive-thru for hamburgers and hotdogs. Yet, that “one time” was quite a distance into yesteryear. It looked as if The History Channel might have wanted to use it in the next episode of their recent series, “Life without People.” Recently, it has been acquired and spruced up. It is now the sprawling hub of a weekend flea-market.

Yet, there are many more buildings that weep tears of broken glass and chipped paint, mourning the days of yesteryear, when someone with vision birthed them into existence. The only brightness that remains for many of these buildings flows from the newly changed out “For Rent” signs. Maybe, just maybe, some resourceful entrepreneur will set up shop to the Burger King tune of “If you build it, they will come.” At that dire state, the owner of the building no longer has the Burger King luxury of having it his way. He is at the mercy of the entrepreneur’s golden wisdom.

Many of our churches are now “For Rent.” The “owners” are hoping against hope. Perhaps their resourceful pastoral entrepreneurs can whip up some measure of life, sunny-side up, with a side of comfy-ness and all served on platters of antique traditions by beaming, complaisant young people. Unfortunately, there are fewer and fewer pastoral entrepreneurs (especially younger ones) willing to submit their resourcefulness to such a vacuum of reality. Is it possible that waiting for young pastoral entrepreneurs to ride into town in their limousine ideas to save our churches is nothing more than a pipe dream? After all if their limousine ideas do not fit our Model-T assumptions, then we slit their tires.

“Choosing to Love Thy Neighbor Also” is our denominational theme this year. While we are waiting on our young, pastoral entrepreneurs that are long in coming, if even at all, perhaps ”choosing to love thy neighbor as thyself” is the entrepreneurial model for church growth that we plain country folk can live. In so doing, perhaps it will be our new customers and patrons working with us that will enable us to remove the “For Rent” signs with optimistic integrity. Yet, this means that we, the regular church folk, “the owners,” actually have to have meaningful contact with potential customers that look, sound, and taste differently than we do. Let’s face it, if we, “the owners,” don’t learn to encourage patronage from “different” customers, we will be replacing our “For Rent” signs with ones more onimously labeled, “For Sale.” Likewise, we must not only learn to encourage patronage from “different” customers, but we must learn to embrace a lifestyle of loving-service to them. This is our calling now; not simply the calling of those we pay to be spiritual for us.

Such prospects are intimidating for many of us. Yet, our pastors are not the only ones with resourceful and resilient hearts among us. If most of us can find creative ways to still make it to the local buffet in this economy, then I know finding creative ways to love our neighbors, even our neighbors that are “different,” is doable.

Serving in the military provides ample opportunity to practice this novel idea of “choosing to love thy neighbor as thyself.” The military rarely runs a shortage of pagans (aka. ministry opportunities). One drill weekend I was digging fighting holes with my squad leader. He was digging holes of despair. Seemingly out of nowhere he began to express his deep frustrations in his marriage. His emotions were raw. Not being married, myself, my comfort was raw. The stakes were high. He was hell-bent on going to the divorce lawyer that Wednesday. He hated her.

Yet, the Spirit impressed upon me to simply listen, to be a redemptive harbor of peace onto which his emotional hurricane could safely land. Eventually, I confessed that I had no advice to offer, but that I could see he was desperately hurting. I offered to pray for him, right there on the spot. I told him that I believed God could save his marriage. He graciously let me pray over him that God would heal his marriage. The next drill weekend, a month later, he found me among several of my friends. With the bark of your friendly, neighborhood drill instructor he said, “Hey, if Daniel wants to pray for y’all, let him! My wife and I were going to the divorce lawyer, but now we’ve decided to work things out.”

 Several months later he proudly brought his wife and little boy, his intact and healing family, to Family Day. I don’t know the exact extent to which my prayers over him and his family played into God’s redemption of that family. I do know that when I made the decision to be involved in his messy situation, I was not Rev. Daniel. I was merely Lance Corporal Daniel of the Marine Reserves, who simply loved Jesus with a passion that propelled me to actively love my vile, but hurting, neighbor with my ears and heart.

Our culture rarely runs a shortage of pagans with glaring needs. These folks are our neighbors. They are our neighbors to love. They are our neighbors to redemptively love. They are our neighbors to redemptively love with no strings attached. They, not the mirage of young, entrepreneurial pastors, are the means by which we shall remove the “For Rent” signs from what will become our formerly dilapidated churches.

Character and Emotional Intelligence in “Appaloosa”

As dust blows up and down the streets of Appaloosa, so also do feelings rage in the hearts of the characters. The problem is that “feelings will get you killed.” At least that’s what Virgil Cole lectures to his trusted friend and side kick, Everett Hitch, in the recent movie, “Appaloosa.” The movie is a western, taking place close to the turn of the end of the 19th Century in New Mexico territory. Tough times call for tough men, and that means you’re supposed to stuff your feelings.

The town has been taken over … so-to-speak … by the mobster-like rancher, Randall Bragg. Cole and Hitch come into town and are hired to put things back into order, as “The Law.” This is not much of a problem … until Allison French finds her way into town. She successfully attracts Cole, the stalwart mountain of a marshall, into falling for her, which means that a lonely and vulnerable … and unemployed … female has finacial and emotional security. 

She has security until she realizes that Cole could be killed and/or there are other … seemingly bigger … fish to fry … to fill her emotional appetite for the lead stallion in the available herd. In one rather humorous scene, Cole … a man’s man … comes down to find his best friend and confidant, Hitch. Cole is in a bind, as he is forced to help pick the color of the curtains of his and Allie’s new home.

He sends Hitch back down to the house to say hello to Allie and inform her that Cole is not up to this arduous task. She quickly puts the moves on Hitch, who pushes her away. Hitch tells this groping damsel in horney distress, “Allie, you’re with Virgil, and so am I.”

Despite this undercurrent of “As the Appaloosa World Turns,” Cole and Hitch get their break, when one of the Bragg boys defects and agrees to testify against Bragg in a possible capital murder trial. They bring Bragg into custody. Two weeks and some emotionally-trying moments later, Bragg is put on trial and found guilty. Bragg is ordered to be taken by train to his execution site.

During a delay in the train ride, several of Bragg’s mercenaries parade Allie out as their ransom for Bragg’s release. Cole has to make a choice … and goes with his feelings. He releases Bragg for Allie; only to find that they have been duped. The mercenary team did not keep their word … suprise, surprise. Cole and Hitch track the crew until they run up on them … with Allie and Bragg frollicking in the nude in a stream.

Later on after Cole and Hitch get shot-up (not mortally wounded) for sticking to the line of duty in chasing down Bragg and attempting to bring him to justice … Bragg gets a presidential pardon. He moves into Appaloosa and buys the hotel where Allie is employed to play the piano. Allie and Cole have reconciled, though Hitch has tried to explain that Allie is lonely for men in authority. Even still Cole is accepting of Allie where she’s at, and attempts to work with her.

Cole refuses to enter the building now owned by Bragg. Bragg, attempting to smooth things over with ”The Law” explains to Hitch that he is now a “reformed” man … and that if Cole did not come around to working him (Bragg), he might find himself out of a job … hint, hint. Over the next few scenes there is the not-so-subtle hint that Bragg and Allie still have something going on, which Hitch of course notices.

Hitch, who is normally able to navigate these tumultuous waters and bring about harmony with integrity, is not able to reconcile all of these potential pawns in a perfect storm in Appalousa. He attempts to talk Cole into leaving, but to no avail … because of his (blindness) devotion to Allie.

Thus Hitch takes it upon himself to resign his position as deputy and challenge Bragg to a duel, which Hitch wins handidly. He leaves town under his own voice of narration, saying that at least his friend will have no competition for Allie … for the time being.

It seems to me that the one who was most in tune to his emotional undercurrent was the most aware of what was going on around him. Hitch’s emotions … rather than getting him or his people killed … kept them all alive and out of quicksand. He was at least being aware of his emotional undercurrent and successfully navigated it. On the other hand, Cole’s inability to deal with his emotions or navigate them, got him into trouble … and would get him into trouble in the future. He was blinded.

I think this movie has something very powerfully to say to us men, especially us Christian men. I’m not suggesting that we turn ourselves into women. However, I am suggesting rather emphatically that we need to develop good emotional intelligence. Emotional intelligence is the ability to recognize what is going on in our hearts and channel it for good. The fear in men (largely because of the brain’s wiring) is tapping the realm of the fealings will make us vulnerable … or at least make us look sissified. The movie’s message is in line with Daniel Goleman’s work on emotional intelligence, that not learning how to channel the currents of our hearts, by default, makes us vulnerable … vulnerable to being swept away by our emotions. The inability to recognize them means they will clip us from behind, and the inability to channel or discipline them means they will get us fired … or killed.

No, there is no substitue for character development … and for Christians godly character development. Both Cole and Hitch had good character. Can anyone name the last Hollywood movie that glorified loyal friendship … loyal to the point of turning down an easy sexual score, as Hitch had done out of loyalty to Cole? However, the movie’s contention, which I agree with, is that even the best of character in men can be derailed by the freight train of emotional un-intelligence. Stuffing the emotions instead of taming them will cause your heart to be swallowed up, much like an appaloosa catfish swallows everything in its path.