Thursday, May 07, 2009

Remembering Jack Kemp

This past week, political leader and former professional football player Jack Kemp died of cancer at age 73.

After a successful career as the starting quarterback for the Buffalo Bills, leading the team to consecutive American Football League championships in 1964 and 1965, Kemp decided to try his hand at elective politics. In 1970, at the age of 35, he was elected to a seat in Congress, representing Buffalo. But Kemp was more than just an ex-jock catapulted to office on the basis of his gridiron fame. Over the next 18 years, he proved to be one of the most effective and influential members of the U. S. House of Representatives, although he never held a major leadership position in the House. A voracious reader with a keen mind, Kemp—a physical education major in college—developed into one of Washington’s brightest thinkers and most knowledgeable students in regard to economic and fiscal issues. (My, how we could use him now!)

Kemp, whose tax-cutting philosophy significantly influenced the thinking of Ronald Reagan, was almost chosen to be The Gipper’s running mate in 1980. (He was 24 years Reagan’s junior.) In the end, however, he was passed over for George H. W. Bush. In 1988, Kemp made his own brief run for the White House, but his campaign never got off the ground. In 1989, he was named Secretary of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) which to me seemed not the best use of his abilities. (Treasury Secretary seemingly would have been a better cabinet position for him.) By the time he assumed the leadership at HUD, however, the most influential period of his political career was already behind him. When in 1996 he was finally named to run for Vice President on his party’s ill-fated national ticket, that was sort of his political swan song.

I always liked Jack Kemp. I think, if given the chance, he may have been a good president but, obviously, we’ll never know that. I do have a special memory of Jack Kemp, however, that I’d like to share with you.

In 1992, I was part of a group of Southern Baptists convening for a conference in our nation’s capital. The highlights of the week included a congressional prayer breakfast on the top floor of the Dirksen Senate Office Building where we were addressed by two Southern Baptists then serving in the U.S. Senate, one from each party. Perhaps you’ve heard of them. There was a young whippersnapper from Tennessee named Albert Gore, Jr. and some good ole boy from Mississippi named Trent Lott. Talk about diversity. Hmm.

The other major happening of the week was being invited to the Old Executive Office Building (now the Eisenhower building) adjacent to the White House for a special White House briefing. And who spoke to our group on behalf of the Bush 41 Administration? None other than then-HUD secretary Jack Kemp. I was impressed with Kemp, not only because of his articulation of political issues and public policy from a conservative perspective, but also because it was on that day that I first learned of his personal faith in Jesus Christ. In fact, as he spoke of how he incorporated his Christian faith into his political life, he also made a humorous statement I’ve never forgotten. He said that the Old Testament figure Nehemiah, who was both a builder of walls and a builder of people, was actually the very first secretary of Housing and Urban Development! (I loved that, and actually wrote that quote in the margin of my Bible.)

The other day, when I heard that Jack Kemp had passed away, it was a very busy week, but I took time to read just one of the many Internet news articles reviewing Kemp’s career and evaluating his legacy. Afterward, I was glad that I read the one article I did. Written by Fred Barnes of The Weekly Standard, it was entitled “What Jack Kemp Accomplished”. After reviewing the achievements of Kemp’s political career, Barnes ended the article with one highly unusual and totally unexpected paragraph tagged on the end. It said this:

“Kemp died on Saturday at 73. He leaves a large family and a wife, Joanne, who has been enormously influential in her own way, conducting a weekly Bible study in their home for more than 30 years and leading an untold number of people to faith in Jesus Christ as their Savior.”

Wow! I was amazed. Not by the Kemp family’s authentic faith in Christ, mind you—I already knew about that—but by the fact that this wonderful statement was published in a secular political newsmagazine. I was so impressed, in fact, that I immediately emailed Fred Barnes and commended him for his courage in closing his story with this beautiful little paragraph, which brought glory to God.

Truly, of all the things the article talked about, those closing sentences were the most important. For in the final analysis, it’s not the accolades and achievements we attain here on earth that matter. It’s how we personally respond to our Creator and it’s the spiritual treasures we subsequently lay up in Heaven. When it’s all said and done, knowing Christ and serving Him is what it’s all about.

Thanks, Jack, for a job well done.

Pastor Danny

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Who Do You Look Like?...Revisited

OK. Events of recent days have awakened me from the slumber of my blogging hibernation.

A friend of ours from Florida emailed me in response to my last blog about lookalikes. She reminded me that she always thought, before I grew my beard in 1998, that I looked a lot like Rick Moranis, the once-popular but now-forgotten star of the hit 1989 Disney film "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids". (Despite my repeated refusals to acknowledge that her claim has any credibility whatsoever, this determined friend doggedly has made the same argument for years. I've never admitted to her, however, that a couple of people in Kentucky once said the very same thing to me!)

My Florida friend has gone so far as to suggest that I post on my blog an old photo of my beardless self alongside an image of Rick Moranis. But, as I seem to recall, several years ago, a volcanic eruption or a tsunami--I don't remember which--destroyed all the photos of me from birth up until I grew my beard. (I least that's what I seem to recall.) So, apart from me being shaved or "Nair"-ed against my will, there is no way that one can accurately test out and evaluate my friend's far-flung hypothesis.

I will acknowledge, however, that back in the 1970s, when I was in college, there were some people who thought I then looked like actor John Ritter, who at the time was starring in the popular TV sitcom "Three's Company." Then, in the early 1980s, while I was in seminary, there were a few deranged ministerial students that thought I bore a strange resemblance--and let me emphasize the word "strange"-- to the then high profile televangelist Jimmy Swaggart. Sometime thereafter, I started combing my hair differently so people would stop sending me their tithes or asking me to autograph their bibles.

But I suffered the most severe blow to my ego just this week. (And this is what prompted me to rise up and write this blog entry.) Sunday afternoon, one of our church members told me that they had been getting their little grandchild ready for church early that morning. A religious program was on television at the time and the little child, with a quizzical look on his face, asked, "Why is Pastor Danny on TV?" His grandma turned around and--guess what-- it was the Reverend John Hagee preaching on the tube!

Hmm. I think I need a makeover. Or a NutriSystem subscription.

Think about it. In the 1970s, I was John Ritter. By the 1980s, I had morphed into Jimmy Swaggart. By the 1990s, I had evolved into Rick Moranis. And now, somehow, I've turned into John Hagee. Wow! I didn't see that one coming! One wonders what the next decade will hold. Could I potentially become a clone of the late Orson Welles, or the spitting image of President William Howard Taft? Only time will tell.

Of course, I've been so self-focused about all of this that I haven't even stopped to consider how these comparisons might be irritating Moranis, Swaggart and Hagee! After all, those guys might not appreciate being told that they look like Danny Davis. Hmm.

Pastor Danny

Monday, February 23, 2009

Who Do You Look Like?

A shy, formerly obscure photographer from Indonesia has become something of a global celebrity almost overnight. Why? Thirty-four-year-old Ilham Anas bears an amazing resemblance to President Barrack Obama. (Ironically, President Obama actually spent 4 years of his childhood growing up in Indonesia!)

Ever since America’s new chief executive began his incredible rise to fame last year, people in Asia started mistaking Anas for the emerging American political leader. He recalls being stunned when someone in an airport in Malaysia stopped him and asked, “Are you Obama?” The inquirer then sought have his picture made with Anas and to buy him a meal.

Later on, some of Anas’ friends encouraged him to dress up in a suit and tie and pose with an American flag. They took his picture and posted the images on the Internet. In no time at all, the young Indonesian’s fame spread like wildfire and he was being pursued by television producers and ad agencies alike.

Since Obama’s election last November, Anas has made a number of appearances, his biggest gig so far being a commercial for a pharmaceutical company in the Philippines in which he portrays our commander-in-chief. (You can easily find the 30-second spot on YouTube.)

While he is happy to cash in on his good fortune, Anas indicates there are limits to what he will do. “I will take all opportunities that come my way,” he said, “as long as they don’t violate ethical codes and my personal values.” Anas went on to say, “I see my resemblance to Obama as a blessing. I used to look at the mirror and I had a negative perception of myself.” But no more, apparently.

Reading the story of Ilham Anas reminded me of something back in the late 1970s. There was a guy who ran a popcorn stand in a shopping mall in Lexington, Kentucky that looked like he could be the identical twin of President Jimmy Carter. It was uncanny. The two must have been separated at birth. The first time I saw the guy, I did such a quick double take that I almost experienced whiplash. Subsequently, every time I was in that mall, I couldn’t help but just stare at this man. He was almost a Carter clone. His hair, facial structure, everything! (I wish even now that I had a photo of him to show you.) One night when the mall was closing, I was sitting in my car in the mall parking lot. All of a sudden, this pickup truck pulls up next to my vehicle. I couldn’t believe it! It was the President of the United States! All alone, driving a truck, with no secret service protection whatsoever! Then, it dawned on me, “No, it’s just that guy that runs the popcorn stand.” I often wondered why that man in Lexington never cashed in on his looks like Ilham Anas is doing right now.

The newfound popularity of Ilham Anas reminds me of something else. In the Word of God, we are told to be imitators of our Lord. We are to follow His example, emulate His character, and let His life shine forth from our own. The First Century believers at Antioch did exactly that. Indeed, they “looked” so much like Jesus that they were the very first people on this planet to be referred to as Christians (Acts 11:26).

Are you an imitator of Christ? Do people see Jesus in you? Do you look like Him?

Don’t be just another face in the crowd…or just another guy running a popcorn stand. Remember Whose you are, and live accordingly.

Borrowing from the words of President Obama’s Indonesian look alike, hopefully your own testimony could go something like this: “I see my resemblance to Jesus as a blessing. I used to look at the mirror and I had a negative perception of myself. But that’s all different now. Because Jesus is in my life and He has changed my life.”

Amen.

Pastor Danny

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Flat Maya Comes To Town

Flat Maya was in Danville a few days ago. She was the special guest of Dan and Margaret Raines, arriving in Virginia from Texas via the U. S. Postal Service. That may sound like an unconventional way for a person for travel, but Flat Maya is an unconventional person. Although she’s as tall as me, she weighs less than a pound, is a fraction of an inch thick, and neatly folds up in order to fit inside a flat mailing envelope. In fact, that’s the way she gets from point A to point B—without a doubt, the most economical way to see the world.

Flat Maya, by the way, is the alter ego of the real Maya—the three-dimensional, non-folding Maya—a real, living, breathing human being made of flesh and blood rather than paper or cardboard. The real Maya lives in Tyler, Texas and she happens to be Dan and Margaret’s niece.

How did Maya wind up with a flat version of herself? It seems that Maya’s class at school was reading a popular children’s book called Flat Stanley. In the book, the title character is a young boy named Stanley Lambchop. One night, a bulletin board hanging on the wall over his bed falls and flattens little Stanley in his sleep. He survives and makes the best of his altered state, soon entering locked rooms by sliding under the door, and playing with his younger brother by being used as a kite. Stanley even helps catch some art thieves by posing as a painting on the wall of a museum. But one of the best advantages of Stanley’s newfound flatness is his ability to visit his friends by being mailed to them in an envelope.

After introducing her class to the story of Flat Stanley, Maya’s teacher assigned her students the project of creating flat versions of themselves that they could then mail to different people in different places. So, being the good aunt and uncle that they are, Margaret and Dan decided to invite Flat Maya up for a visit to Danville. And, upon her arrival, they really showed Flat Maya the town, taking her around to a number of historic sites and notable landmarks in our fair city. They even included me in their plans, arranging for Flat Maya to come by the church and make a personal visit to my office while she was in the area.

I have to say that it was a real pleasure to meet Flat Maya. Although I was just making her acquaintance for the very first time, she seemed quite at ease in my office. After posing for a photo with me and Aunt Margaret, while Uncle Dan manned the camera, she just plopped down in a chair for a while and made herself right at home, just like she’d been there a thousand times before.

Flat Maya didn’t say much or ask me many questions, but I could see that she was quite observant, just basking in the moment and taking it all in. Apparently, she likes to live the biblical adage of being slow to speak and quick to listen.

Although she’s clearly a person of few words, Flat Maya must be pretty smart. After all, she’s been to so many different places and seen so many different things. In spite of her quiet and shy demeanor, one can readily see what a colorful person she is. Just look at the way she dresses. Her wardrobe is vibrant. Her hair is bright blonde. She definitely stands out in a crowd. Gee, I hope I’m not FLATtering her too much. (I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist!)

I didn’t really have time to learn much about her personal likes and dislikes. But I’ll venture a guess that she’s a fan of Bluegrass music. Her favorite group? FLATT and Scruggs, no doubt! (Oops! I’m sorry. There I go again!)

Physically, Flat Maya’s a little on the thin side, especially when you view her profile. (I’m not sure what they’re feeding her out there in Texas, but she definitely could stand to put on a few pounds. If we’d had time, I’d love to have taken her to Biscuitville for a high-carb lunch.) In many ways, Flat Maya has the physical attributes to be a fashion model. But she would only be successful at modeling if she were consistently photographed from the front, certainly never from a side angle.

Flat Maya is a definitely a special person. And she certainly has figured out an interesting and inexpensive way of seeing the world. I think next time I plan an international mission trip, I’ll try to recruit a team of flat church members to go with me. That way, we can save a whole bunch of money on airfare, opting for envelopes and stamps instead. The only problem is that I personally won’t be able to lead that team, unless I first can get someone to drop something heavy on me and flatten me out. Hmm. I can tell you right now that a bulletin board isn't going to do the trick. I'll probably need an anvil or a steamroller. (Ouch!)

The Round Reverend Danny

Saturday, February 07, 2009

Wrong Number or Right Connection?

"RRRIIINNNNGGG!!!" The late night call punctuated the quiet stillness of the church office. I was working after hours trying to get caught up on a few things when the unexpected cry from Mr. Bell's tireless invention suddenly broke my concentration. Gradually, the intermittent ringing sound worked its way back from the receptionist’s desk to the sleepy receiver in my study. At first, I was going to ignore it, thinking that perhaps someone was just calling to leave a voice mail for me for the next morning. If so, the last thing they would be expecting would be for a "live" person to answer the phone. I certainly didn't want to give them a heart attack! But then again, I thought it might be Sandy trying to reach me from home. After all, she was the only one who knew I was still at work. So I picked up the receiver and here's what transpired:

“Hello.”

“Uh...yes”, came the tentative reply at the other end. “Is this Danny Davis Ministries?”

It was a woman’s voice…with a distinctly northeastern accent….perhaps from New York or New Jersey. And the call definitely sounded like it was long distance. Her opening line certainly surprised me. Danny Davis Ministries!!? I had seen that guy on the Internet before. He's a traveling evangelist based out of California, whose primary ministry focus seems to be on divine healing, kind of a big fellow with sort of a modified 1980's-style mullet haircut. But why was this lady calling me at Mount Hermon Baptist Church? And how did she get my number?

“Well, my name IS Danny Davis, but this is not Danny Davis Ministries. Were you trying to reach Danny Davis, the evangelist?”

“I need to reach Danny Davis so he can pray for me,” she said, not really responding to my question.

“If you are looking for Danny Davis, the evangelist, this is not his number. But you can probably find his phone number on the Internet. I’ve seen his website before. I think it is
www.dannydavisministries.com. I’m not sure, but you could do a search and easily find it.”

“Uh...OK…", she said. "I just need to get Danny Davis to pray for me.”

“Well…as I said, this is not Danny Davis Ministries…but my name is Danny Davis, and I am a pastor, and I would be glad to pray for you.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“How can I pray for you?”


“Well, my mother is in the hospital in upstate New York. And I have been very worried about her. I was asleep and I was having a very scary dream. It was a terrible dream. I was so frightened. And suddenly, I woke up and the Lord told me to call Danny Davis and have Danny Davis pray for my mother. So that’s why I called.”

“Well, let me pray for you and your mother. Do you mind if I pray with you over the phone right now?”

“Oh, that would be wonderful.”

After asking for her name as well as that of her mother, I proceeded to intercede for both women over the phone, with the long-distance caller listening intently to my petitions on her family's behalf. Following my closing “amen,” the grateful woman on the other end of the line spoke up once more:

“Oh, thank you, thank you. God bless you.”

“I’m glad I was able to be of help.”

“Oh, and I am so glad I was able to reach you. This was an answer to prayer. God told me to call Danny Davis. And God doesn’t make any mistakes.”

“No, He doesn’t, does He? I’ll continue to remember your mother in prayer.”

“Thank you so much. Thank you. Goodbye and God bless you.”

Monday, February 02, 2009

Praying at the House of Delegates

Several days ago, Sandy and I were at the State Capitol in Richmond in order for me to pray to open a session of the Virginia House of Delegates. I had been recommended for this special assignment by our own Donald Merricks, a member of Mount Hermon Baptist Church who is in the second year of his first term in the House. Donald has done a wonderful job representing the people of his district (which encompasses most of Pittsylvania County), and I was honored to be nominated by him for this unique opportunity.

The House was scheduled to convene at 12 noon. Sandy and I had arrived in Richmond the night before. Early the next morning, I emailed an advance copy of my written prayer to the Clerk’s Office, as had been requested of me. Normally I don’t write out my prayers, but such is essential for an assignment of this nature. Not only do they want a written copy for the sake of their records, but, I assume, they also want to screen it in advance to make sure there are no potential problems. Before we left from our hotel room that morning, I received a phone call from a member of the clerk’s staff. She acknowledged that she had just received my email. She then proceeded to remind me, somewhat nervously I thought, that I would be praying for people representing a wide of variety of faith groups. Of course, I assumed this last minute reminder came to me because I had included the closing phrase “in Jesus’ Name” in my prayer.

I had wondered if praying in Jesus’ Name was going to present a problem. Like many Virginians, I realized that in recent months there had been a flap in the media regarding Virginia State Police chaplains praying in Jesus’ Name. Apparently, someone had filed a formal complaint because one of these chaplains had invoked the Name of the Savior while praying at some public gathering. So the powers-that-be, from the Governor on down, responded with a new ruling that State Police chaplains would henceforth be prohibited from using the Name of the Jesus in public prayers offered in certain, specified settings. It was my understanding that, in light of this ruling, three chaplains had resigned their posts in protest.

Now, I certainly wasn’t trying to stir up anything while I was in Richmond. When I received the original letter some time back inviting me to give the prayer before the House, I read it very carefully. It instructed me to offer up an inter- denominational prayer, respectful of the various faiths that would be present. But it also included the phrase “according to your own tradition.” Well, I knew what my tradition was. My tradition had always been to pray in the Name of Jesus. So, I decided I would carry on my own personal tradition before the House of Delegates. (By the way, I had used the Name of Jesus when praying before the U.S. House of Representatives in Washington, D.C. last fall. So why should I pray any differently on the state level?)

When Speaker of the House Bill Howell swung his gavel and called the House to order, the Sergeant-at-Arms brought forth the mace, signaling the beginning of the day’s business. Speaker Howell then introduced me and I prayed. Following the prayer, we all said the Pledge of Allegiance together. Then, Speaker Howell—a wonderful Christian gentleman whom I had met before—presented me with a commemorative gift, and I was escorted back to my seat on the House floor where Sandy awaited me. Later on, during a brief break in the House business, a delegate came over to me and thanked me for praying in Jesus’ Name. He told me that another Baptist preacher had “started the tradition” the week prior at the commencement of the 2009 session. “We haven’t gotten any flack over it yet,” he said, “but we probably will.” He then thanked me again for not being reluctant to use the Lord’s Name.

All in all, we had a wonderful visit in Richmond. Everyone at the Capitol was so kind, courteous and friendly, from the security guards and doorkeepers, to the pages and staffers, to the House and Senate members themselves. Good old Southern hospitality at its best.

The night we arrived in Richmond, Donald and Patti Merricks—whom in light of his present position I like to jokingly refer to as “The Honorable” and “Mrs. The Honorable”—took Sandy and me out to dinner. It was great being with them. The next day, following my prayer, we enjoyed meeting up with church members Brenda and Lindsay Bowman, both of whom work for Delegate Charles Poindexter. They graciously treated us to lunch. We also got to visit with Delegate Danny Marshall, who represents the City of Danville in the legislature. As an added bonus, thanks to Donald’s office, Sandy and I got to take a tour of the Governor’s Mansion later that afternoon. I actually thought Governor and Mrs. Kaine might be there to greet us, but alas, some pressing state business must have called them away at the last minute. At least that’s what I think.

Upon our return home from Richmond, our son Jordan emailed us and said, “Dad, First, the U.S. House of Representatives! Now, the Virginia House of Delegates! What’s next for you, the Danville City Council?”

The truth be known, Pittsylvania County’s Circuit Court Clerk, H. F. Haymore—another Mount Hermon attendee—lined me up just the other day to pray to open the next session of court later this month. So, there you have it! My career as an official political pray-er presses onward!

Pastor Danny ("Have Prayer, Will Travel")