Monday, April 30, 2007

Reflections on Honduras, Part 1

Everyone told me I would love it…and I did. From the moment I first received the invitation to go to Honduras, I was looking forward to my mission trip with the Friends of Barnabas Foundation. But, I have to admit that, going in, I doubted I would love Honduras as much as I do Cuba (where I’ve been four times). But, I was wrong.

God, it seems, has given me a real heart for Latin America, Spanish-speaking people, and Hispanic cultures in general. That was affirmed once again on this trip. It all started several years ago in Florida, when God led my church there to establish a Spanish-language congregation as an extension of our ministry. And in subsequent years, it expanded to include a direct mission partnership with a sister church in Havana. (By the way, one of my goals at Mount Hermon is ultimately to establish a vibrant Southern Baptist Hispanic work in Pittsylvania County. God is bringing the world to the Danville area and we need to minister to the mission field He is putting before us. But that’s another blog for another day!)

Honduras is primarily a mountainous country, its scenic terrain reminiscent of my native Appalachia. In contrast to my mission work in Cuba—which has taken place primarily in the context of urban Havana—our ministry settings in Honduras were purely rural. As we traversed the Honduran countryside, we took some long treks by bus on rugged mountain roads to remote villages at high elevations. Some of the stops we made reminded me of places I’d been long ago in my home state of Kentucky.

One day our bus arduously climbed a steep, deeply rutted mountain road, rarely able to exceed ten miles per hour. We crossed six rocky creek beds along the way. As we made our ascent, the road was one lane virtually all the way, with no room to pass, and sometimes a steep drop off on one side. (There are no such things as guard rails in Honduras.) At one point a huge rock got wedged between two of our tires, and we had to hammer it out in order to proceed. By the time we finally reached our destination—a surprisingly spacious plateau near the top of the high mountain—we found a small village with a rustic school, a tiny Catholic church, several modest homes, and a host of people. How (and why) in the world did these people settle here? I wondered. I mean, how on earth did they even find this place? Surely, God alone must have put them here!

On two other days we traveled by boat across a large lake in order to reach our destination, twenty four of us squeezing into two motor boats. The lake had been created by the El Cajón Dam, which was completed in 1985. (I was told that this large hydroelectric dam provides approximately half of the electric power for all of Central America!) As we traveled along the lake, it brought back memories of my dad and me fishing out on Norris Lake in East Tennessee when I was a boy. Norris Dam was built in the 1930s during the Roosevelt Administration as part of the newly created Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA). The TVA revitalized East Tennessee, providing electric power to the region and harnessing the destructive rivers that had long plagued isolated mountain communities. That’s the same thing that the El Cajón project—some 50 years later—had done for this region in Honduras. As I cruised along the lake, I reflected on the fact that we here in the United States, though we may not fully realize it, are really not all that far removed from the lifestyle of present-day Hondurans. For I can see that there are a lot of similarities between their way of life and the simple rural life my own grandparents knew just some 50 to 75 years ago.

Visiting Honduras reminded me of the old adage that sometimes “less is more.” In other words, the Honduran people we met did not have much in the way of material possessions, but there was an unrushed simplicity to their lives that was refreshing. They generally are a humble & thankful people, possessing an open & friendly spirit without any air of pretense. Clearly, they work hard, love & provide for their families as best they can, and appreciate every kindness shown them, no matter how small. While they were grateful for all we did for them, our team members felt we were the ones most blessed.

In a few days, I’ll be back with more thoughts about Honduras.

Pastor Danny

Monday, April 23, 2007

Proud To Be A Hokie

“Pray for Virginia Tech Families” … “God Bless Virginia Tech” … “Our Prayers are with Va. Tech” … “Remember the Hokies!” … “Hokies Forever”. As I drove to church early Sunday morning—after a week out of the country on a mission trip—the messages of support seemingly were everywhere, emblazoned on business marquees all across Danville.

Looking out on the congregation during our morning worship services, I saw a subtle collage of color—in the form of ties, shirts, lapel pins, and other orange & maroon accessories—all collectively communicating heartfelt compassion for those most deeply affected by last week’s horrific tragedy in Blacksburg. Truly, this past week—whether alumni of U.Va., Duke, UNC or wherever—all of us were Hokies.

Without question, this one hit really close to home. After years of painfully watching news reports of similar crimes in seemingly far removed places like Littleton, Colorado and Austin, Texas, it’s hard to believe that the deadliest shooting in U.S. history has now occurred right here in our own state, less than 120 miles from our church.

Our large church family includes several Virginia Tech students as well as a sizeable contingent of Hokie alumni. While no one from Mount Hermon was wounded or killed in last week’s murderous rampage—Thank God!—many of our people have been indirectly impacted to varying degrees. It’s going to be tough to get over this. It’s going to take much time for the deep emotional wounds to heal.

Why do horrible things like this happen?

The bottom line is that we live in a fallen, sin-corrupted world. Evil is part of our human existence because of our collective abuse and misuse of our God-given freedoms. All members of the human race—no matter how noble or beautiful or cultured or educated they may appear to be—are sinners by nature and sinners by choice. The Bible continually asserts this reality: “There is none righteous, no not one...For all of have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God…All we like sheep have gone astray; each one has turned to his own way.” Sometimes, we lose sight of these basic truths, until something like last Monday’s shootings gives us an abrupt wakeup call.

The good news, however, is that—in spite of our stubbornness, rebelliousness, arrogance and ignorance—God still loves us and wants to redeem us. But, here’s the twist: This amazing, all-powerful God who created us does not use His superior position to force Himself on us. Indeed, He does not compel us to love Him back, like puppets on a string or robotic Stepford Wives. For, you see, God knows (and we need to understand) that genuine love can never be coerced. It can only occur in the context of freedom. Thus, God proves His love for us in His willingness to let us go, risking even the very thing He most definitely wants to avoid—the prospect of losing us forever—all for the sake of giving us the opportunity to love Him freely from our own hearts.

Sadly, many persons live their whole lives resisting and refusing God’s love, continuing along the road of rebellion all the way to a Christless eternity. Such is the case of anyone that rejects Jesus, whether they’re a powerful & prosperous businessman with no time for God or a troubled & tormented soul like Virginia Tech student Seung-Hui Cho.

Last Monday’s slaughter reminds us that there are always consequences to human sins, and many times innocent people suffer as a result. That was very evident at Virginia Tech. The same thing happened in New York City on September 11, 2001. God did not fly those planes into the World Trade Center. Evil men did that—men whose hearts were in rebellion against God. As they abused their God-given freedom by choosing the path of evil, innocent people perished as a result.

In this world, Jesus tells us, “the rain falls on the just and the unjust.” In other words, just because someone is a follower of Jesus Christ, or even seemingly a “good person”, that does not exempt them from life’s heartaches and tragedies.

But here’s some good news. Jesus also said that “In this world, you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” In other words, we can survive and ultimately even thrive in the face of evil, persecution and hardship, all because of our living hope in a loving Lord.

Last week’s shootings in Blacksburg remind us that the world is still in deep spiritual need and desperate for Jesus, whether they realize it or not. There are many troubled souls that need the peace and spiritual healing that only God can bring. And there today are many, many more hearts gripped by grief that need the comfort that only comes from His touch. As instruments of His grace, you and I must look for opportunities to share that grace with a world in need around us.

It’s been a good while since I was in college. And all of my academic degrees come from institutions of higher learning in Kentucky, North Carolina and South Carolina, respectively. But today, in my heart, I’m a Hokie. May God bless the Hokies forever!

Pastor Danny

Monday, April 09, 2007

Cherry Blossoms

The weekend before Easter, Sandy and I drove up to Washington, D.C. to see our son Jordan and daughter-in-law Melinda. We planned our trip to coincide with the beginning of the annual National Cherry Blossom Festival. We always had wanted to visit our nation’s capital in the springtime when its legendary cherry trees were in bloom. With us living back in Virginia now, and our son in D.C., this year was the perfect opportunity for us to do that.

The history of Washington’s cherry trees goes back some 95 years, when the Mayor of Tokyo made a gift of 3,000 cherry trees to the city of Washington in recognition of the growing friendship between the United States and Japan. In a simple ceremony on March 27, 1912, the wife of President William Howard Taft and the wife of the Japanese ambassador to the United States planted the first two of these trees. With the passage of time, new plantings have been periodically added. Although these trees typically have a lifespan of no more than 50 years, an estimated 125 of the original 3,000 still survive, thanks to the diligent efforts of our National Park Service. (By the way, there approximately are 3,800 Japanese cherry trees in Washington today, most of them obviously replacements.)

As things turned out, Sandy and I timed our arrival in D.C. just right. The festival itself did not begin until Saturday, March 31st. We arrived Thursday night, however, so we could spend all day Friday taking in the scenery. The weather was great, the blooms were brilliant, and we got ahead of the big crowds by a whole day.

On Friday morning, we rode into D.C. from Jordan and Melinda’s apartment on the Metro rail system. We got off at the National Mall, walking eastward past the Washington Monument, the new World War II Memorial, the Reflecting Pool, and the Lincoln Memorial. Then, we made our way past the little-known Korean War Memorial and the relatively new Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial. Next was the main event: The long walk around the beautiful cherry tree-lined waters of the Tidal Basin toward the Jefferson Memorial.

The picturesque scenery—historic marble monuments, blue cloudless skies, and glistening waters framed by vibrant pinkish-white cherry blossoms—was a true photo op for professional and amateur photographers alike. All along the walkway, cameras of all persuasions could be heard clicking as person after person stopped to visually record the breathtaking images. Interestingly, among the many blossom-watchers was a young Japanese couple in tux and bridal gown having their wedding photos taken amidst the flowering trees. (I’m not sure, however, if these were real newlyweds or just a pair of models doing a photo shoot for a magazine.)

Perhaps the most unusual thing of all was the rules about cherry blossom etiquette that were printed and posted for all to see. For example: No climbing on the trees. No putting your child on a tree limb in order to take their picture. No picking blossoms. No breaking off branches. I mean, can you imagine that they would even need to tell people that? Why on earth would someone pull a stunt like that? “Oh, it won’t hurt anything if I break a small limb off this historic old tree.” That’s like climbing up and chiseling a chunk of marble off Lincoln’s nose just so you can have a personal keepsake of your visit to his Memorial.

Anyway, just so you know, Sandy and I personally did not climb any trees, pick any blossoms or break off any limbs. All we brought back with us were photographs and memories and a few spiritual reflections that I wanted to share with you.

Reflection # 1: There’s a lot of behind-the-scenes work that goes on to protect, preserve and maintain these historic cherry trees. Day after day, year after year, the National Park Service diligently nurtures them so that for two weeks each spring we all can enjoy the breathtaking beauty of their blossoms. Truly, the glorious blooms we see in April would not be possible without all the unseen hard work that takes place the other 11 ½ months of the year.

There is a parallel here with the Christian life. What we are in public is but an extension of what we are in private. Granted, sometimes people can put on a pretty good façade in public. But authentic, lasting spiritual fruit is only borne through the practice of unseen spiritual disciplines such as private prayer, personal bible reading, and a daily walk with God. As we practice these disciplines, God builds our inner character, equipping us for the work to which He has assigned us. And the evidence of this inner working ultimately blossoms forth, bringing honor not to us, but the One who planted us and cultivates us.

Reflection # 2: These historic cherry trees—planted as an act of friendship in 1912—have throughout the years weathered many storms—both literally and figuratively. They’ve been battered by inclement weather. They’ve even been confronted with the winds of war. For example, two days after the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, four of the original cherry trees were sawed down by vandals angry at the Japanese. Japan had become our enemy. Today, thankfully, the old friendship has been restored, our relationship with Japan coming full circle. But through it all, regardless of the climate—meteorologically or politically—those old cherry trees around the Tidal Basin steadfastly continued to grow and bloom.

In our own lives, we all weather many storms. Our relationships can weather storms. Our beliefs and convictions can weather storms as well. That’s why we need to remain firmly rooted and grounded in God’s Word. If our roots go down deep, there’s less likelihood of being uprooted and toppling over. Furthermore, if we regularly allow God to prune us with His Word, then we’ll not only be more fruitful; but we’ll also be less likely to crack and break under pressure when life’s winds of adversity blow our way.

There are lessons to be learned from the cherry trees. Let’s learn them and live them.

Pastor Danny

Monday, April 02, 2007

Reflections on Turning 50

I can’t believe that I’m actually writing this blog. Years ago, it seemed like an eternity before this day would ever arrive. But now it’s here, much sooner than I expected. And there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it. Yes, that’s right. On April 4, 2007, Daniel Wade Davis will officially turn 50 years old. A half-century ago, I was born at St. Mary’s Hospital in the city of Knoxville, Tennessee. Sandy has said that surely the nuns must have been singing in glorious celebration of my birth! (If you believe that, then I have some swamp land in Florida I’d like to sell you.) Seriously, back in 1957, Ike was in the White House, Elvis was topping the music charts, and the space age was just dawning with the launching of the historic Russian satellite, Sputnik. And in the midst of all of that, yours truly was born. A lot of water has certainly gone under the bridge since then.

What is one to make of turning “fifty”? I mean, one day you’re 49 and you’re just going along life’s way, minding your own business, and then all of a sudden—bam!—you’re 50. Just like that! And then, before you know it, AARP starts bombarding your mailbox with membership applications.

Perhaps I should take some solace in the fact that I am not alone. Many other people are turning 50 this year as well. (I’ll use some discretion here and avoid mentioning the names of those in our church family that are passing the half-century mark this year.) But the notable personalities among the birth class of ’57 include persons such as perky Katie Couric of CBS News, her former NBC “Today” co-host Matt Lauer, letter-turning Vanna White of “Wheel of Fortune”, former 1970s teen idol Donnie Osmond, President Kennedy’s daughter Caroline, another Caroline—the princess of Monaco and daughter of the late Grace Kelly, sitcom TV star Ray Romano of “Everybody Loves Raymond” fame, golfer Nancy Lopez, Christian singer/songwriter Michael W. Smith, and…(brace yourself)…the infamous Osama bin Laden! (That is, if he’s still living in a cave somewhere. Wow! Do he and I really look the same age?)

As I reflect back on my life, it’s been interesting for me to recall that I celebrated my 30th birthday while I was living in Danville the first time. And, now here I am back in Danville for my 50th birthday…whatever significance that may hold. Without a doubt, a lot of stuff happened between my 30th and 50th birthdays. Most notably, I turned 40.

Do you remember the old saying, “Life begins at 40”? I remember that right after I turned 40, things definitely started happening. Within days of my 40th birthday, I got a herniated disc in my upper back. It was the worst pain I ever dealt with in my life. That was the beginning of other aches and pains. Before moving to Danville from Florida, I tongue-in-check told my personal physician of the last several years that I never really had any health issues until I started coming to him. He laughed and said, “Ah, yes, the forties, that’s when it all starts happening.” That being the case, I’m really glad to be leaving my forties behind.

By the way, it should be noted that a lot of people in life don’t even hit their stride until they pass the age of fifty. Ronald Reagan did not run for his first political office until he was well past the age of 50. In fact, he was sworn in as president just a couple of weeks shy of his 70th birthday! And then Moses, at age 50, still had 30 more years of tending sheep on the backside of the desert before God called him to his greatest work at the age of 80!

If the Lord allows me to stay here at Mount Hermon a long, long time—which I hope He does—then I trust that my most rewarding and fruitful years of ministry will be right here with you. God providentially allowed Sandy and me to start out in ministry in Danville some 22 years ago. It was a great blessing for us, for Danville proved to be a great place for a young pastor and wife to spread their wings and fly. And now, graciously, God has brought us full circle, back to a place that we love. And I’m certainly looking forward to all that He has in store for us in the years ahead.

Oh, one more thing about birthdays. This will sound really strange, but I think the birthday that I had the toughest time with wasn’t when I was approaching 30, 40 or even 50. Rather, it was when I turned 26. (I know you’re thinking—“26? Why 26?”) I suppose it was because that whenever I had to fill out surveys or application forms, there was always a little box that you could check that indicated your age category. Usually, there was an 18-to-25 box, followed by a 26-to-35 or a 26-to-40 box. Suddenly, when I turned 26, I realized that I could no longer check that first little box anymore. “Woe is me,” I said, “I’m no longer a young adult in my early twenties. Now I’m over the hump, headed downhill toward 30!” I think that affected me more than any other birthday. But now that I’m a half-century old, I don’t care about any of that anymore. I’m just happy to still have my own hair.

One final reflection: I really thought that one of the upsides of turning 50 would be that I would be able to start getting “senior discounts” at many of Danville’s fine eating establishments. But I just found out from some highly reliable sources that those discounts won’t kick in for me until I’m at least 55 or older. Bummer.

Pastor Danny