My Last Worship Service in Florida

On our last Sunday before moving to Virginia, Sandy & I—in transition between churches—decided to visit one of the morning worship services at the 12,000-member First Baptist Church of Orlando. During our eleven years in Sunshine State, we had been to First Baptist Orlando only a handful of times for special seasonal events or conferences. The only previous time we had been there for Sunday morning worship was about 20 years ago, when we lived here in Danville and were visiting Disney World on vacation with our young son. So, just before returning to Danville to start our new ministry at Mount Hermon, we thought it would be nice to take this one last opportunity to worship at First Orlando.

Dr. Jim Henry, the church’s longtime pastor, and former Southern Baptist Convention president, recently retired after nearly 30 years at the church. Jim Henry is a great man of God and, without a doubt, the most humble megachurch pastor I’ve ever met. Several years ago, at my invitation, he came to First Baptist Clermont and preached. He wasn’t easy to book, but finally relented because of my continued persistence. I still remember personal conversations I had with him in which he advised me on the challenges of relocating a church and in which he encouraged me in my efforts to buy land for our new church campus. Since Dr. Henry’s retirement, I had heard a lot of good things about his successor, Dr. David Uth, but this would the first time I had ever seen or heard him.

Honestly, as Sandy & I made our way to our seats in the cavernous 5,500-seat worship center, I was expecting (but not especially looking forward to) a lot of megachurch glitz—big sound, big screen, big production. Lights, camera, action. Singers, band, high tech. A lot of what we had become used to among the successful churches in Central Florida. And particularly with this church, which was sometimes jokingly referred to as “Baptist World” because of its size as well as its close proximity—both geographically and culturally—to Walt Disney World.

But, after a big opening number by the band, praise team, and worship choir, something unusual happened. David Uth walked forward and began asking a series of “What if?” questions. “What if we came in here on Sunday and we didn’t have all these talented singers? What if we didn’t have all these excellent musicians? What if we didn’t have all these high tech gadgets?” And, one by one, he dismissed the choir, the praise team, the band, and the pianist. The lights went down low, the big screen was turned off, and the massive sanctuary went dark except for the most minimal lighting. Ultimately, the pastor stood on the platform all alone.

“Today,” he continued, “we’re driving a stake in the heart of worship as entertainment.” I wanted to jump out of my seat and shout “Amen!” Perhaps I did. That was quite a bold statement to make in one of the entertainment capitals of the world, where churches feel immense pressure to compete with one another as well as with the excellence of Disney-quality programming. Myself having pastored for 11 years in a fast-growing community context also within the shadow of Disney’s influence, I have to admit that gradually I’ve become somewhat cynical about a lot of what we today call worship. Frankly, I’ve come to realize that a lot of what we call worship, simply isn’t.

David Uth continued, “Could we just worship without anything else? Could we?” And, then, a holy hush fell over the place. And, for the longest time, we all just worshiped God. No glitz. No show. No agenda. Just God. Thousands—either from their pews, or in the aisles, or at the altar—were sitting, standing, kneeling, praying, weeping—privately worshiping the Great “I AM”. Ever so often the quietness and stillness of the moment was punctuated with shouts of “Hallelujah,” “Praise God”, and “I Love You, Jesus!” Acapella singing broke out. The nearness of God was so evident. Honestly, for me, it was one of the most meaningful personal encounters with God that I’ve had in a worship service in a long, long time.

Finally—after several eternity-filled minutes that seemed both to go on forever and not last long enough—people began making their way back to their seats. And David Uth started preaching/ teaching from Romans 12:1. It was a simple but compelling sermon on worship in which he talked about (1) our motivation for worship—“The mercies of God”; (2) the means of worship—“Presenting all that we are to God”; and the results of worship—“Living holy and acceptable lives.” He also utilized the lyrics of a couple of contemporary Christian songs that best illustrated the holistic and heartfelt nature of worship that he was trying to convey. One was “Lifesong” by Casting Crowns, which includes the prayerful refrain, “Let my lifesong sing to You.” The other was “Heart of Worship” by Matt Redman (see below):

When the music fades and all is stripped away
And I simply come
Longing just to bring something that's of worth
That will bless Your heart

I'll bring You more than a song
For a song in itself
Is not what You have required
You search much deeper within
Through the way things appear
You're looking into my heart

I'm coming back to the heart of worship
And it's all about You
All about You, Jesus
I'm sorry, Lord, for the things I've made it
When it's all about You
All about You, Jesus

Later, I wrote David Uth and thanked him for that day. If he keeps the church headed on this course, he’ll probably lose some people, particularly those that are looking for the big production. But I’m not so sure that all that really matters to him. For—as he indicated at one point in his message—he doesn’t want to stand before God someday only to hear the Lord say, “Nice show. But what did you do for Me?” (Neither do I, by the way.)

When it was all said and done, Sandy & I realized that we were exactly where God wanted us to be that particular Sunday. Our last worship service in Florida turned out to be precisely what we needed to ready our hearts for our new ministry in Virginia. This one final visit at First Baptist Orlando was a timely reminder of the timeless truth that worship isn’t about us. It’s really about God. Wow! What a refreshing way to spend a Sunday! I hope I can spend all the rest of my Sundays living in that reality.

Pastor Danny

My Barber's Dog Died

Just before moving to Virginia, I went into The Village Barber Shop in Clermont for one final haircut. The proprietor, Mike, had been my barber for the past eleven years.

Visiting Mike has always been an experience. In his old-fashioned, downtown storefront establishment, he has employees that work the chairs up front, handling all of the walk-in traffic. You can only see Mike himself by appointment. He remains secluded in a private section in the back, with a single barber chair, historic photos of Clermont on the wall, Fox News on the television, and old Ellie the dog lying just beneath the chair at the customer’s feet. Having Mike cut your hair in the backroom is like flying first class, while the people in the front room are flying coach. Mike, close to my age, has been barbering a long time. A friendly guy, he’s knowledgeable about a wide range of subjects and one of the most informed people in the city. One can always get the latest local news from him, as he regularly trims the hair on a lot of prominent and powerful heads. Mike is always in the know. It kind of reminds me of an old line from “The Andy Griffith Show” about Floyd the barber, of whom it was said, “In Mayberry, there are three forms of communication—telephone, telegraph, and tell Floyd.”

His dog Ellie, in stark contrast to the high-level summits constantly taking place around her, maintains the stoic silence of a monk and the low profile of a covert CIA operative. With endless human conversation hovering above her head, she slumbers disinterestedly on the floor until there is finally an exchange of bodies in the barber chair above. As each customer stands up at the end of his haircut, that’s Ellie’s cue to lazily rise up and receive a dog biscuit from Mike. Somehow, it’s her reward, just for being there and enduring it all, day in and day out. Bear in mind that this 15-year old hound dog has ridden to work with Mike five days a week for her whole life. She’s more at home at the barber shop than anywhere else; more of a fixture there than the old revolving red, white & blue barber pole just outside the front door.

At the end of my last haircut, it suddenly dawned on me that something was amiss. I had been so engrossed in discussing world affairs with Mike that I had failed to recognize the unusual absence of his longstanding silent partner. “Where’s Ellie?” I asked. Mike then sadly informed me that since my previous haircut, the aging Ellie had passed away. I was stunned. It was the end of an era, I thought, strangely coinciding with my own departure from Clermont.

The sudden revelation of Ellie’s death instantly transported me back to Havana, Cuba, where only a few weeks before I had learned of the demise of another dog diva. Diana (named for Britain’s Princess Di) lived on the flat roof of a home adjacent to where our mission team ate our meals and led in worship services. Every time I saw this Cuban canine, she was always on that roof, standing guard over her vast domain, ready to defend her home at a moment’s notice. By the way that she carried herself, I feel confident that Diana was neither a Communist nor a “Fidelista”. After all, she always loved it when our mission teams came from America for a visit. It was a veritable Thanksgiving feast for her to be able to dine on our leftovers. For two straight years, our teams were accustomed to seeing the familiar image of Diana daily pacing along the rooftop above us. It always brought us a level of comfort. “Perro de techo”, I called her. (Spanish for “roof dog”.) Sadly, this time, Diana was gone, her untimely departure from this life roughly coinciding with the recent illness and hospitalization of Fidel Castro, her country’s dogmatic leader. (Pun intended.) A coincidence, you think? I’m not so sure. Anyway, it was sad to look up and see Diana’s old spot on that roof vacant.

As my mind drifted back again from Cuba to Clermont, I wondered, “What do you do when your barber’s dog dies?” I mean, does Hallmark have a card for such an occasion? Are flowers appropriate? How about, in lieu of flowers, donations to the local animal shelter or the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals? I must admit, I am not up on dog death etiquette.

But somehow Ellie’s death (along with that of the Diana) reminded me of something much more important. Life is full of beginnings and endings—not only for dogs, but for all of us. As a matter of fact, nothing in this life is permanent except for the Word of God, the souls of men, and the spiritual treasures we lay up in Heaven.

Does your life reflect those heavenly priorities? Are you investing yourself where it really counts and where the results are eternal?

Elvis Presley long ago immortalized the phrase, “You ain’t a nothing but a hound dog.” But I hope you realize that your life is much more than a dog’s life. Don’t miss out on what God has in store for you by letting your life go to the dogs. Find your place in this world—like Ellie’s spot under the chair or Diana’s perch up on the roof—and determine to make a difference where you are. Life is too short to do otherwise…even if you count it in dog years.

Pastor Danny

Who is Latoya Gipson…?

…and why am I getting her phone calls?

Just before moving to Danville, Sandy and I decided to get some cheap “To Go” cellular phones, where you prepay for minutes. We thought we could use these for a brief period during our transition from Florida to Virginia, buying some more permanent cell phones after we arrived here.

When I bought my phone, I was assigned a phone number at random. But when I started making calls to people, something strange began happening. I noticed that the people that I called sounded rather reticent when they answered the phone, as if they were uncertain and even a little bit leery about who was calling them. Only later did I discover that when I was calling people the name “Latoya Gipson” was showing up on their caller I.D. The story doesn’t end there. Then, I started receiving recorded phone calls from a middle school in the Orlando area telling me that “my son”—whose name I couldn’t pronounce—was absent from school without excuse again today. On top of that, some people I didn’t know started calling me on my cell phone asking for a “Mr. Smith”. Mmm. Then, when my son and daughter-in-law tried to call me, they said they kept getting a voice mail greeting in Spanish. Mmm, again. This is quite a mystery!

So, needless to say, Latoya Gipson, a woman I’ve never met, has become part of my life in the past month. Some people—who now know the scoop on this—answer my calls to them from my cell phone with the greeting, “Hi, Latoya!” I suppose that Latoya Gipson’s name will forever live as part of my legacy. (By the way, if you haven’t gotten a “Lotoya” call from me, you probably won’t at this point. I’m going to get rid of this phone very soon.)

Since Latoya’s name has become so familiar to me, I’ve tried to assess what I know about her. She once had a phone, but now she doesn’t. She doesn’t encourage her kids in their school attendance. She may or may not speak Spanish. She may or may not have a friend named “Mr. Smith.” Maybe she’s the kind of person that moves around a lot. Maybe she skipped town without telling anyone, especially the school system. Anyway, it’s interesting what you can piece together about a person from just a little bit of information.

What can people piece together about you? What insights into your character and your lifestyle can they glean from the snapshot experiences they have of your life? Do people perceive you as a reliable, honest person? A good neighbor? A kind, thoughtful person? A compassionate, caring individual? A positive, patient human being not easily given to irritation or negativity? An authentic follower of Jesus embodying the values that Christ taught and exemplified?

When you call someone and they see your name on the caller I.D., what’s the first thing they think about you? Are they encouraged by the thought of your call…or do they say “Oh, no! It’s old what’s-his-name again”?

What we are in our daily lives makes an impression on others. I don’t know if the original Latoya ever thought about that, but I hope you do.

God bless you! Have a great day!

Pastor “Latoya”

What I Like About Coming Back to Virginia

The old state song, “Carry Me Back to Old Virginny”, seems to have been the new theme song for the Davis family in recent weeks. Sandy & I never imagined that God would bring us back to the same city and state where we started out in ministry more than twenty years ago. But here we are, back in the Old Dominion after eighteen years and three other pastorates.

Prior to our return to Danville via Mount Hermon Baptist Church, all four of the churches I had served as pastor were in different states—Virginia, North Carolina, Kentucky & Florida. I used to tell people that every time I left a church I had to leave the state as well! Now, God has shown me that I can actually go back again to a place I lived before. Thanks, Commonwealth of Virginia, for giving me a second chance!

Eighteen years to be away is a long time. Think about it. When Sandy & I left Danville back in 1988, Ronald Reagan was still president, the Soviet Union was still intact, little-known George W. Bush was working in his daddy’s campaign for the White House, Al Gore had not yet invented the Internet, and CDs were not something you listened to but something you invested in. Truly, a lot of water has gone under the bridge.

In the past few weeks, I’ve been eagerly anticipating my return to Virginia. Here are some of the things I’ve been looking forward to most.

1. Four distinct seasons. Living in Florida for more than a decade, it’s been a long time since Sandy & I have seen ice and snow. (In fact, we got caught by surprise on our first Sunday morning when we woke with frost on our car windshield.) I know it sounds strange, but I’ve really been looking forward to being cold again, especially at Christmastime. I can’t wait to get snowed in. In Florida, there were no snow days, only hurricane days! I also love the brilliantly-colored changing leaves of autumn. Sandy & I got here just in time to see them this year. And, speaking of seasons, there’s nothing more beautiful than springtime in Danville, with all the azaleas blooming. I look forward to that as well.

2. History. Wow, Virginia is the ultimate place for history buffs! As a college history major and a lifelong student of history, returning to a state with such a great heritage is going to be fun. Jamestown. Yorktown. Colonial Williamsburg. Mount Vernon. Monticello. Appomattox Court House. Arlington National Cemetery. The birthplaces of eight U.S. presidents. Battlefields galore. Not to mention that Danville itself was the last capital of the Confederacy. Truly, Virginia history is U.S. history. I’ll enjoy revisiting some sights that we saw years ago as well as getting to go some places we never got around to visiting before.

3. Baseball. I’m a big baseball fan. While I’m giving up the major league spring training games that I’ve enjoyed for years in Florida, I know that Danville historically is a great baseball town. It’s where my son first learned the game in the city’s excellent Little League program. And I’m delighted that Danville again has a minor league team. (They didn’t have one when I lived here before.) Look for me to be spending some of my free time next spring and summer watching the balls and strikes at Dan Daniel Memorial Park.

4. Brunswick Stew. In Virginia, "stew" is not merely something you eat. It's an event! Virtually everyone in Southside Virginia loves attending a good old fashioned stew in the autumn when the weather turns cool. On the Saturday night before our first Sunday at Mount Hermon, Sandy & I were invited to a stew at someone's home. Several people had worked all day preparing the delicacy. And then, just before dark, a large group gathered for the big feast. It was fun being outdoors on a cold night for a delicious time of hot stew and warm fellowship.

5. Speaking of food, I can't forget some of Danville’s unique local eating establishments. Places like Short Sugar’s Barbecue, Danview Restaurant, and Mary’s Diner. Mmm! Mmm! These restaurants were some of my favorite haunts years ago. I’m so relieved to find out that they’re all still in operation and doing well. I’ll surely be dropping by soon to reintroduce myself to some of their classic down home cuisine.

6. Sweet Tea. When you order sweet tea in Central Florida, they generally bring you a glass of unsweetened iced tea and several packets of sugar. Have you ever tried to sweeten tea after it has been chilled? As you know, sweet tea is a staple of the South. But “the South” is more than a geographical location. It’s a state of mind. And, as the folks in the Sunshine State often say, “In Florida, you’ve got to go north to go south.”

7. Trains. When I was a boy growing up in the mountains of Kentucky, I used to lay awake at night listening to the sound of train whistles, dreaming of all the places I might go. The coal mining regions of Appalachia, like the farming and manufacturing areas of the Piedmont, historically were train country. (Danville, of course, is notable in history as the site of the wreck of the Old 97. And Joan Baez’s 1971 pop hit, “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down,” opens with the line, “Virgil Caine is my name and I served on the Danville train…”) I haven’t been around the familiar sound of train whistles in a long, long time, but I was delighted to discover that I can hear them from our new home on Westwood Drive. It brings back a lot of good memories.

8. Southern Hospitality. Courtesy. Manners. Etiquette. Politeness. Decorum. Respectfulness. Thoughtfulness. Gentleness. Kindness. Friendliness. You experience it from both acquaintances and strangers alike…in restaurants, stores, and even out on the street. As an outsider coming back in, I can unequivocally say that a lot of what has been largely lost in American culture in recent years is still alive and well in Southside Virginia. Praise the Lord. What a delight to be back among such graciousness.

9. Good People. The state’s longstanding promotional campaign says that “Virginia is for lovers.” I have to say that some of the most loving people I’ve ever met are in Danville, Virginia. Sandy & I still have many friends here from back in the 1980s. At that time, we knew many Southside Virginia residents to be good, honest, hardworking, patriotic, down-to-earth, God-fearing people—whether they were Wahoos, Hokies, or whatever. Our precious memories of Melville Avenue Baptist Church—our first church which loved us and gave us such a great start in ministry—have been something we have cherished throughout the years. We now look forward to meeting & making a whole host of new friends at Mount Hermon Baptist Church and throughout the community as well.

10. Mount Hermon Baptist Church. This is the main reason we’ve come back to good ol’ Pittsylvania County. God has called us back for a new ministry assignment with Mount Hermon, a great church family with a solid foundation and a bright future. I’m excited about being the pastor of such a strong congregation, which I’ve always admired for their commitment to missions and their love for the Word of God. I am confident that the Lord has put us together to do and experience some things that we never could have done alone. Sandy & I truly look forward to what God is going to do in all of our lives in the years ahead.

God bless you all. It’s really good to be back in Virginia.

Pastor Danny