Happy New Year 2009!

As we prepare to "ring out" the old and "ring in" the new, I'm praying that you have a healthy, happy and spiritually prosperous new year!

While none of us fully knows what the future will hold, we DO know the One Who holds the future. And that makes all the difference in the world.

Because of His presence in our lives, we can face the coming year with confidence and assurance. For He has promised to never leave us nor forsake us.

May God bless you richly throughout this coming year
of our Lord two thousand and nine.

Pastor Danny

Nativity Scenes: For God So Loved the World...

Sandy and I have always had nativity scenes in our home. At least one larger set on a table or mantle and a few smaller ones on our Christmas tree and/or scattered elsewhere throughout the house. Gradually, we started collecting them, one by one. And over the years, the number of our nativity sets has increased. We didn’t really intend to start a collection. It just sort of happened.

Our international mission trips became the primary impetus for this "hobby". We've always liked bringing back articles of remembrance from places we visit. And we've found that nativity sets are among the most meaningful items we can obtain.

It all started back in 1988. While in Tanzania (Africa) I happened upon a wood carver who was making and selling large nativity sets made out of dark, heavy ebony wood. The sets were quite impressive. The pieces were very large, the tallest human figures rising to about 10 to 12 inches in height. And there were 13 figures in all—shepherds, wise men, Mary and Joseph, baby Jesus, animals, and an angel. So it was a massive set, once arranged and displayed.

What most intrigued me about this work of art was the ethnicity of the figures. They were clearly African. An African Mary and Joseph, African magi and sheepherders, and an African baby Jesus in a manger! Typically, people have always tended to visualize Jesus through the lens of their own culture. For many Americans, that means seeing Jesus as a fair-skinned North American or European-looking male. And many of our manmade depictions of Jesus indeed render him that way. But Jesus actually came in the flesh as a Middle Eastern/ Jewish male. So our typical American perception of Jesus is no more accurate than that of the Africans. (Hence, we shouldn’t be so arrogant as to think we got it “right” and they got it “wrong”!)

But right then and there, in Tanzania some 20 years ago, was when I first started considering how intriguing (and precious) it was for various peoples of the world to envision the birth of Jesus against the backdrop of their own familiar cultural context. Because the Savior of the world indeed came for ALL of us.

I bought two identical ebony wood sets from the African vendor. After packing all of those heavy items and bringing them back to the States with me, I gave one of the sets to my parents as a gift. But the one we kept was destroyed when our home burned a few months later. So we lost it before we ever got to use it. Then, several years later, when my parents were downsizing and moving to a new home, they gave their set back to us. (They had tried to give it back much earlier, but we repeatedly had refused their offer.)

With the passage of time, Sandy and I collected other nativity scenes. A set from Honduras made out of brightly colored cornhusks. A simple three-piece, hand-painted wooden set from Ecuador. A beautifully crafted three-figure set from the Dominican Republic. (All of these reflecting a distinctive Spanish or Latin American flavor.) There’s also a simple olive wood nativity set from Israel. Plus, from Israel also, an olive wood Mary and child riding on the back of a donkey during their flight to Egypt. Sandy and I even have an unusual set we brought back with us from predominantly-Buddhist Cambodia, made by local Christian craftsmen there. All of these sets are hand-made. And each holds special meaning for us. For every time we look at them, we are reminded of the global scope of Jesus' redemptive mission.

The Bible frequently talks about the “nations”. When it does so, it’s not speaking of nations as we typically think of nations, i.e., political states. Rather, it’s referring to the various language groups, people groups, ethnic groups and racial groups that populate this planet. Jesus commissioned us to “Go and teach all nations…” And Jesus told us that before He comes again the Gospel “must first be preached to all nations.” So, God wants every unreached people group of the world to hear the good news of salvation in Christ prior to Jesus returning to gather up His own. Because someday, in Heaven, the Bible tells us that people from every tribe and every tongue will gather to worship the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. I truly look forward to that great day with anticipation and joy!

Whenever I look at our various nativity sets from around the world, it reminds me that Jesus came for people from every nation. It also reminds me we have a responsibility to take the Gospel to people of every nation. And it also reminds me that someday, around the Throne of God, we will worship together with Christian brothers and sisters representing every nation. Hallelujah! What a kaleidoscope of color and symphony of praise that will be! And what a beautiful testimony to the greatness of our God!

Hmm. When you think about it, it’s quite amazing what a little nativity set can teach you.

Pastor Danny

A Politician in a Pear Tree

It all started back in 1968. That was the first presidential election I really focused in on. I was an 11-year-old boy at the time, and it was that year that I became thoroughly enamored with the whole electoral process. While other kids my age were out enjoying the summer sun, I remember watching gavel-to-gavel coverage of both national nominating conventions on our black-and-white television. Later on in the fall, I began frequenting the local political campaign headquarters in my hometown. The Republican headquarters was a large storefront building, well supplied with buttons, brochures, posters, bumper stickers, and other essential campaign materials. I dropped by there several times. The young female volunteer that ran the place got so tired of seeing me. Finally, the weekend before the election, she told me that I had come in enough and she basically invited me not to come back. But, for all my efforts—I was there every time a new shipment of campaign materials came in—I came away with several different Nixon-Agnew items which I have to this day, including—my pride and joy at the time—a full-color reflector button that alternately displays Nixon’s smiling face and the memorable slogan “Nixon’s the One!” On top of everything else, I even signed up to be a Nixon volunteer! Ironically, I wouldn’t even be old enough to vote in a presidential election until 1976! But just prior to Election Day, I received a letter from the future president himself, thanking me for my vital support. You would have thought I was a key player in Nixon's great political comeback! (All of this was pre-Watergate, of course.)

The Democrat headquarters in our town back in ’68 was run virtually out of a shoebox in the tiny front lobby of a local business establishment. (There were only a handful of Democrats in the whole county then. Not nearly enough to fill a phone booth. I’m not being critical. That’s just the way it was.) After being interrogated—er, questioned thoroughly—by the local Democratic Party Chairman as to who my parents were and why I really wanted a Hubert H. Humphrey campaign button, I finally received from him a little star-spangled “HHH” pin, which I still have. I was grateful for it, but I never attempted to go back for more. That man just made me too nervous. I felt like I’d been to the principal’s office.

About that same time, my parents showed me an ad in a magazine wherein a political button collector was offering a special deal for anyone who wanted to get started in the hobby of collecting — 25 authentic presidential campaign buttons for just $5 (in 1968 dollars, of course). My dad ordered me a set. And that’s where it all started for me. Since then, sporadically, I have been a collector of political campaign memorabilia. In addition to visiting various campaign headquarters during election cycles, there were always flea markets, antique stores, and political collector conventions—yes, there are such things—not to mention the kind generosity of persons through the years who were cleaning out their attics and remembered that I had this bizarre hobby. (Incidentally, back in the late 1960s, some kind older gentleman that I never actually met gave me some of my oldest buttons—William McKinley and William Jennings Bryan buttons from the 1896 and 1900 campaigns, as well as an 1898 “Remember the Maine!” button, which was in reference to the sabatoge of a U.S. ship in Havana’s harbor that triggered the Spanish-American War. I also received an 1896 Joshua Levering photo button. Those of you that voted in that election will remember that the bald but mustachioed Levering was the Prohibition Party candidate for President that year. He didn’t win, by the way, in case you forgot.)

In the year 2000, my hobby took a new turn. In December of that year, Sandy and I found ourselves living in temporary housing for a few weeks, having just sold our first Florida home, while waiting to close on another. Thus, a lot of our Christmas decorations were packed away. So—with chads hanging all over Florida and the Bush-Gore presidential battle still undecided after Thanksgiving—it seemed like a novel idea that year to put up a political Christmas tree (bipartisan, of course) adorned with various buttons from my collection. That began a Davis family tradition that has continued to the present day. Since that time, we have always had a political tree in addition to our regular Christmas tree.

Along with its numerous presidential campaign buttons, our political tree is adorned with a number of other patriotic trimmings, as well as our growing collection of White House Christmas ornaments. (The White House Historical Association started issuing these ornaments on an annual basis in 1981, the year of our son Jordan’s birth, and we have all 28 of them to date.)

So, this blog is fair warning to you when you come to visit us during our Open House this Christmas. The first tree you’ll see when you enter our home will feature a whole lot more red, white & blue than it will red & green. And it won’t be adorned with traditional-looking angelic beings (unless you count the winged “Betsy Ross”-like figurine who sits at the top). Nor will it be decorated with images of tiny elves (unless you count my Dennis “Keebler” Kucinich buttons). Instead, you’ll see images of prominent political personalities as diverse as George Washington, George Wallace, and George W. And you’ll read colorful (if not exactly memorable) political slogans such as “The Grin Will Win!” (Jimmy Carter), “A Buck for Huck” (Mike Huckabee), and “You Go Girl!” (Sarah Palin). Not to mention the image of a smiling Santa Claus saying “Ho! Ho! Ho! Happy Howard Days! Dean for America” (Howard Dean). So, if after this excruciatingly long 2008 presidential race you feel like you can still muster up enough strength to endure all of these Ghosts of Presidential Campaigns Past, I hope you’ll elect to come and celebrate Christmas with us presidential style.

Pastor Danny

P. S. I'm Danny Davis and I approve this message.

Jonah Returns!

Finally…I’m back at my old computer, blogging away once again after another long hiatus. Please understand that I’ve been quite busy since my last blog. It all started with a relaxing little boating excursion that I had planned to the coast of Tarshish, just to get my mind off things. I went down to the seaport with my travel brochures, I paid the fare, and then I settled back for what was supposed to be just a quiet and peaceful three-hour tour. At least that’s what the Skipper and Gilligan had told me. But then we ran into all kinds of trouble. It wasn’t long before I realized that this was no Carnival Cruise. A violent storm hit. The sea was raging. The boat was in danger of capsizing. And the experienced sailors were scared half out of their minds. (Not a good sign!) The next thing I knew, the Professor and Mary Ann had thrown me overboard, and I was sinking like a rock into the murky depths of the sea. Then, all of a sudden, I heard this enormous gulp. It quickly dawned on me that I was the gulpee. (In legalese, that’s the one that has been gulped). And, the next thing I knew, my travel itinerary had completely changed. For the next three days and three nights, I found myself lodged in this dark, damp, hot and slimy place. (These were not 5-star accommodations, to say the least. Just wait until hotels.com hears about this!) But, like the Hotel California, I soon learned this place was easy to check into but hard to leave.

Then, just as unexpectedly, I heard a loud belching sound and, with it, I found myself being propelled through the air like a missile, aimed in the direction of Nineveh, a place I never wanted to go. But when I landed on the beach, believe me, I hit the ground running, like the Allied troops at Normandy. Coated in seaweed and amino acids, and steeped in the aromatic fragrance of dead fish, I made an indelible impact on the Ninevites as I kicked off a lengthy preaching tour of their great city. (There were lots of conversions once they laid eyes on me!) Now, after all that—whew!—I’m finally back at my computer blogging again.

Actually, what prompted this particular blog was my recent appearance at our church’s annual Fall Festival. After preaching through the Book of Jonah earlier this fall, it was suggested that I portray Jonah for the kids on Halloween night. So, I put on my “biblical” costume which I hadn’t worn in more than ten years! (Last time I wore it was when I first grew my beard. I had a solo singing part in a large-scale Easter drama we did at my former church in Florida. Sandy had some reservations about whether I could still wear the costume. Hmmm, I didn’t realize that fabric actually shrunk with the passage of time. Fortunately, I could still wear my tunic and robe with room to spare.) I decided to color my hair this time, however. In my mind, I've always pictured Jonah with gray or white hair, either from aging, sudden trauma, or the digestive acids in the whale’s belly. So I went and bought an aerosol can of instant white hair color at Wal-Mart. (Some suspicious church member said they thought I might actually have washed out the color treatment I normally use and just went natural for a change! Some people can be so cruel, can't they?) Well, I sprayed this white stuff on. Man, was it sticky and stinky. And trying to spray it on my beard was a challenge. The big white cloud went up my nose, into my mouth and down my throat. (Cough! Cough!) I almost died of asphyxiation before I even got to the seaport at Joppa.

The Fall Festival folks had set up a Sunday School room for me that was supposed to represent a fish’s belly. And, throughout the night, as various trunk-or-treat-ers passed through, I would tell them a whale of a tale about my wild ride from Joppa to the bottom of the sea and back again. At one point, I was telling a group that I had a feeling that God soon would deliver me from my aquatic prison cell. I said that I had felt the whale’s stomach rumbling a bit and I warned them that I might come spewing out at any minute. One little tyke immediately ran and hid behind his mother, imagining the worst and wanting to avoid being hit by the coming gastric tsunami.

Later in the evening, a gang of pirates dropped by to see me. (Where is that in the Biblical account?) Either they were pirates or they all just got off the night shift at Long John Silvers. Argh! The colorful trio showed up either to rescue old Jonah or to rob him, I’m still not sure which. Nonetheless, there they were in the flesh—the diabolical one-eyed Captain Jamie, loyal First Mate Haley, and the always mysterious Buccaneer Whitney. It was kind of like Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean meets the Old Testament in High Definition. I also had some other notable visitors drop by earlier in the evening—Napoleon Dynamite and his amigo, Pedro. (AKA Caitlin "Brillo" Davis and the mustachioed Tiffany McGregor.) But, alas, they missed the photo op.

After my long stint in that stuffy old fish’s belly, I’m glad to finally be free again. No more boat rides for me. The big lesson of Jonah’s life is this: “God’s way is always the best way.” Never forget that. I sure won’t. Now that I’m back on dry land, watch for more blogs in the days ahead.

Pastor “Jonah”

Live...from Washington DC...

“Just relax,” he said. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. Just remember, in a few moments you’ll be speaking from the very podium where every president in your lifetime has stood to address the nation during the State of the Union Address and at other times of national importance.”

And with those words, Daniel P. Coughlin, the Chaplain of the U. S. House of Represent- atives, quickly turned and walked off the platform, leaving me standing there all alone. A second later, Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi, the third highest elected official in our national government, entered the chamber, ascended to the Speaker’s chair, and gaveled the House to order.

“And now,” she said, “our opening prayer will be offered by the Reverend Danny Davis, Pastor of Mount Hermon Baptist Church in Danville, Virginia.”

And with that, I prayed my 150-word prayer to the Lord in full view of the scattered Congressmen and staffers on the floor; Sandy, our son Jordan, and a group of school children up in the gallery; and an indeterminable number of television viewers watching the proceedings on C-SPAN. After ending my prayer with the politically incorrect “In Jesus’ Name, Amen”, I stepped off the platform and the House recited the Pledge of Allegiance to the flag. Then I publicly was recognized by the two members of the House who had made this rare opportunity possible for me: Congresswoman Thelma Drake of Virginia Beach—my son Jordan’s boss—and Congressman Virgil Goode, our local Congressman from here in Southside Virginia.

After their remarks on the House floor, we all exited the chamber. I then met up with Sandy and Jordan and the three of us were escorted to the Speaker’s Reception Room by Chaplain Coughlin, accompanied by Speaker Pelosi, along with Representatives Drake and Goode. Speaker Pelosi told me that the Speaker’s Reception Room was used to receive kings, presidents, prime ministers and other dignitaries, but on that particular day it was being used to receive me. (Whoa!) Chaplain Coughlin then presented me with a certificate in recognition of my serving as guest chaplain for the day. A House photographer came along to chronicle the event. It was all quite amazing—almost too much to take in—for a simple preacher like me that grew up in the mountains of southeastern Kentucky.

In the midst of all the niceties, Speaker Pelosi turned to me privately at one point and said “Please pray for us.” Recognizing the tremendous pressures that the Congress was then under because of some of the critical issues they were facing, I assured her that I would. It was at the very moment that I suddenly was reminded of the fact that people are just people, no matter what position of power of prominence they may hold. And that everyone, regardless of status or stature, needs the Lord.

As our time together concluded, Sandy and I left the Capitol and went by Jordan’s office in the Longworth House Office Building to say our “goodbyes” to his co-workers, the other members of Mrs. Drake’s staff. During our stopover there, I was honored with yet another unexpected gift—a plaque containing an official copy of Congresswoman Drake’s remarks about me which would be entered into that day’s Congressional Record.

Congresswoman Drake had been so gracious and kind with her remarks on the House floor—not only in regard to what she said about me, but with the additional comments she made about her Senior Legislative Assistant, Jordan. It was a nice but unexpected tribute to a young man who has been a valuable part of her team for the past three years. Sandy and I were both humbled and proud. Mrs. Drake is truly a wonderful lady. She is just completing her second term on Capitol Hill. Obviously, we hope that her re-election bid this November is successful. It truly would be a loss both to her district and the nation if it were otherwise.

Earlier in the morning, prior to the opening of the House session, Sandy and I had enjoyed a leisurely private breakfast with Mrs. Drake and Jordan in the Members Only Dining Room. We were delighted to have that special opportunity to get to know her better. She is such a refreshing down-to-earth person, the type who quickly puts you at ease. She also is a person of character, integrity, and strong values. It is encouraging to know that there are people of her caliber serving in Congress. And the same goes for Virgil Goode. He also is a man of deep conviction and character. I feel better about things in Washington when I remember that both Thelma Drake and Virgil Goode are there. I truly thank God for public servants like these. May the Lord increase their tribe. Our nation surely could use a few more elected officials cut from the same cloth.

Pastor Danny

NOTE: By the way, I've learned that my prayer will be preserved for posterity on the House Chaplain's official website: chaplain.house.gov. Just click on the "prayer archive" and search for the prayer dated September 17, 2008. (Honestly, I just hope the Lord was pleased with it.)