Enough drama, thank you

When tension builds, I build something. Lowe's and Home Depot have long been my trusted therapists.

Fences that keep nothing in or out, and a rarely used arbor, tree house and picnic area dot the wooded back lot. It's just my way of trying to stay on the good side of sanity.

There is something creative and fulfilling about dreaming up a project and seeing it through to completion. HGTV and home improvement shows on other networks have been sources of inspiration and instruction.



But I've noticed things are changing. In fact, it seems that everything on TV has become overly dramatic.

The Weather Channel is no longer content to tell me if I'll need a sweater tomorrow or if my return flight might be delayed. Forecasts get pushed aside for documentaries and even movies now.

CNN Headline News no longer gives me the latest updates in a streamlined 30-minute segment. Instead, personalities like Macon's own Nancy Grace rant on about an 8-month-old headline night after night after night.

But the great tragedy is that drama (or more accurately, melodrama) has even reached home improvement. I yearn for the early days when Pat and Jodi would calmly show me how to install crown molding or someone might offer good ideas for sprucing up around the mailbox without having an emotional breakdown.

Now home improvement shows seem to need tears, infighting and the ever-mounting fear that the project will not be completed in the 30-minute time frame. P-LEASE! This is home improvement, not "ER."

Can home projects go awry? I've never done one that didn't take longer, cost more than expected and require some adaptation from my original plan. That's what wood filler and caulking and next weekend were made for.


But the whole reason I watch this genre of television and tackle home projects is to escape the tensions of life, not to create more drama or watch poorly created melodrama. (Read "Dear Genevieve" and "HGTV Design Star" just for starters.)

Now HGTV does offer helpful, emotionally stable shows like "Curb Appeal." My only complaint is they follow hours of useless and avoided early morning infomercials and then hit the screen about the time I'm going out to work on a project.

But the worst offense in bringing unnecessary drama to home improvement is TLC's new and aptly-named show "Unhinged." It features HGTV alum Summer Baltzer who used to quietly sew curtains and comforters along with the persnickety Charles Burbridge and another cost-cutting designer on "Design on a Dime."

In this latest show, however, the redhead and her extended family engage in home improvement via interpersonal conflict. They yell, pout, cry, walk out and then eventually complete the intended project just in the nick of time before the credits roll. It's "The Real World" meets "This Old House," if you can imagine.

It makes me want to do more projects, but with less television to feed my ideas.



And, admittedly, not everyone can appreciate the mental and physical benefits of home projects, and that's OK.

Several years ago, after my family had been to lunch one Saturday, I swung by Lowe's to get a trunk full of soil additives for some landscaping project. As we pulled away my younger daughter asked: "Dad, did you just pay $17 for cow poop?"

"Uh, uh, ...yes, and some day when you're older you'll understand..."

The problem was I just told her she couldn't have a milkshake at Fuddrucker's because they were too expensive. Do you think we could make a reality show about that?

Working for a cause

It seems that everybody has a cause — and many are held with great passion. That's especially true in our nation's capital where lobbyists take their causes to lawmakers.

While sloshing down rainy D.C. streets and boarding Metro trains on Tuesday, I took notice of some of these causes and the variety of ways awareness is being raised.

These photos represent a very small sampling — from street signs to public demonstrations.






The sign warning of extensive use of antibiotics in farm animals (displayed on Metro trains running near the Capitol) is a current campaign by the Pew Charitable Trusts.

In general, the word "lobbyist" has a negative connotation because industry representatives spend millions of dollars seeking legislation that will help increase revenues for their stockholders. Yet others lobby for causes that relate to justice, peace, equality and freedom.

The current issue of Delta's Sky magazine tells of how breast cancer research has become the "Mother of Cause Marketing" in which that cause is identified simply by the color pink.

Many causes are advanced on behalf of those who suffer and have little or no voice of influence. Often these causes relate to poverty, health, housing, abuse and/or human rights.

People of faith should always be standing up for those in need rather than giving our greater efforts to advancing self-serving causes.

In the King James English, according to John 18:37, Jesus said the "cause" for which he came into the world was to "bear witness to the truth." Truth in love seems to be a good way to bring influence into the public square on behalf of others.

Millard, Socks and the Taser guy

A special feature at accessatlanta.com pays tribute to "notable deaths" in 2009. This seems a little premature since a nice chunk of the year remains.

Perhaps the person making this tribute was attuned to this coming Sunday being All Saints' Day, in which some churches (according to particular traditions) honor those faithful persons who have gone before us. Otherwise, the timing is a mystery to me.

When the tribute first came up on the news web site I visit each day, there were three visible images: Socks the Cat, Millard Fuller and Jack Cover who invented the Taser gun. I couldn't help but think that my friend Millard would get a kick out of this.


Here vying for attention was a feline who lived in the White House for awhile. The media attention shifted from the cat, however, when the Clinton family brought home a pup named Buddy.

Millard, along with his wife Linda, gave up wealth in a radical faith commitment that resulted in the building of hundreds of thousands of decent homes for people in need around the world.

But, with his ever-present bright smile and hearty laugh, Millard would have been humored by his positioning in this tribute. I talked with Millard and Linda's son Chris yesterday morning and he agreed.

It turns out the tributes were not a ranking based on perceived importance but were presented in chronological order. Millard died on Feb. 3. We said goodbye the next morning as he was buried in a simple grave on Koinonia Farms — on the coldest day in Southwest Georgia that many can remember.

The inventor and the cat died on Feb. 7 and Feb. 20 respectively. Other notables profiled included longtime broadcaster Paul Harvey who died Feb. 28.

Whether well known to the broader public or just special to a few, it is always a good idea to remember and give thanks for those on whose shoulders we stand and whose lives have made our own better.

[For historic record: This is my first blog to be posted at 30,000 feet thanks to a free wi-fi promo by Delta and Gogo.]



PS: After reading my blog, Kirk Lyman-Barner of the Fuller Center for Housing sent this photo as evidence of Millard's sense of humor. He is laughing in response to a homeowner's "Are you crazy?" look when he told her she didn't have to accept the house being dedicated.

Singing in church ... for better or worse

Although my own musical gifts are very limited, my discernment about musical choices has grown over the years. Perhaps it is the result of some bad musical decisions in my past.

Once, as a campus minister, I allowed a transfer student to play his guitar and sing at one of our weekly meetings without asking what song he would perform. Even today my former students from Southern Tech and Kennesaw State and I are trying to find the spiritual significance in Jim Stafford's "Wildwood Weed."

As teens, my friends at Boynton Baptist Church and I often belted out the worst song ever sung in church, "I Wish We'd All Been Ready." It had delightful lyrics like: "Children died, the day grew cold, a piece of bread could buy a bag of gold..."

Sadly, those words are etched in my mind from the early '70s obsession with Hal Lindsey's wacky and profitable predictions of the world coming to an end while we were wearing our bell-bottom pants.

But for those of us who value the important and inspiring role of music in worship there is some exciting news. A new hymnal, Celebrating Grace, is headed for pew racks in the spring.

The hymnal's premiere — with concerts, congregational singing and workshops — is set for March 7-9, 2010, at Atlanta's Second-Ponce de Leon Baptist Church.

"We believe a hymnal should be a comprehensive, practical worship resource for churches and congregations," says the team responsible for this new resource. "The editors set high standards for the music, the texts, the support materials, the organization and the production."

The hymnal has many supplemental resources to enhance its use. Some very gifted church musicians, theologians and lay leaders (many of whom I know personally) have put enormous effort into bringing together this superb volume.

Most happily, I checked the index and neither "Wildwood Weed" nor "I Wish We'd All Been Ready" made the cut. Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Learning to spell write ain't easy

When my second-grade teacher, Mrs. Peters, demanded good spelling from her students, I never dreamed that someday my vocational life would revolve around words. So I'm grateful for the investment of many good teachers in my writing abilities — though I don't always live up to their expectations of excellence.

However, I do know that both the spoken and written word has power — to explain, to inspire, to offend and to comfort. So I try to pay close attention to what I write and say. (The emphasis is on try.)

The rules of writing are always changing. In fact, a strict observance of every grammatical law handed down by my teachers of long ago would inhibit my ability to communicate.

An occasional split infinitive, for example, can serve a writer well. And starting a sentence with a conjunction (like this one) no longer draws a red mark.

Interestingly, the British government (according to an Associated Press report) has told teachers to stop passing along the spelling rule about "'i' before 'e,' except after 'c.'"

There are just too many exceptions, they noted, such as "sufficient," "veil" and "their." But (beginning another sentence with a contraction) maybe it should be changed from a rule to a mere starting point.

I will ask my daughters if this or any other spelling rule is being omitted today.

My guess is that their English teachers have more serious concerns these days. While they lecture about grammar and writing styles, a whole new language is being tapped out on the many mini-keyboards in their students' hands.

Do you see what I see?

Watching college football on a large screen, high-definition TV enhances the experience. And, at least in some cases, it gives a better perspective than being in the broadcast booth or even on the field.

Such was the case with one game I watched on Saturday.

"He comes up short of the first down," the announcer said while the millions of us watching it on TV saw the running back cross the imaginary yellow line by a good yard and a half.

"No. They are saying he made it," the announcer corrects himself when the chains are moved. But we knew it was a first down at the moment it happened and ESPN was not even paying us to provide factual information.

"The ball is out at the two-yard line," he reported after a punt. No, we all saw it roll out precisely at the one-yard line.

For awhile I kept count of the announcers' mistakes but decided it was distracting me from enjoying the game.

Likewise, officials are under greater scrutiny now that we have the ability to watch sweat drip off the noses of wide receivers as well as see whether or not they complete a catch or keep their feet in bounds. And the use of video to review a play often causes officials to confess their sins publicly.

Last night at the Macon Touchdown Club (where my friend Bob White treated me as his guest), Georgia Tech football coach Paul Johnson was asked if he felt full-time officials were needed to improve the quality of their performance.

"I'm not allowed to say anything about officiating since the North Carolina game," said Johnson without a smile. But it brought laughter from those of us who had seen him (from the seats of Bobby Dodd Stadium or on TV) go ballistic after officials failed to stop the game clock near the end of the first half when a Tech receiver went out of bounds, costing his team a scoring opportunity.

With distance and a couple of more big wins under his belt since that game, Johnson admitted that he was steamed at the time but understands that officials are trying to get every call right and have no intentions of showing preference for either team.

"But they are humans just like all of us," he said. "They make mistakes."

So do announcers. So do we. One common human characteristic is our tendency to magnify the mistakes of others while minimizing or denying our own.

And who would want a big screen, hi-def, highly-critical viewing of our lives without a good dose of grace thrown in?

Wingate Baptist Church celebrates 200 years of challenges, faithfulness

The History of Wingate Baptist Church 1810-2009: 'Saturday Before the Second Sabith'
Part one by Carolyn Caldwell Gaddy and Part two by Jerry L. Surratt

A review by John D. Pierce, executive editor, Baptists Today, Macon, Ga.

WINGATE, N.C. — With rare exception, books are designed to be read from beginning to end. But the two-part, 200-year history of Wingate Baptist Church near Monroe, North Carolina, might be better suited to a different approach.

Just in time for the town-‘n-gown congregation’s bicentennial celebration, a lovely hardback edition of the church’s history has been produced with former Wingate University professor and dean Jerry Surratt picking up the story in 1985. The earlier history of the church — presented as the first part of this combined volume — has been well documented by Carolyn Caldwell Gaddy.

A suggested approach is to begin reading at page 187 where Surratt acknowledges the good work of Gaddy and gives an overview of her findings. Then the reader can benefit more so from the first part of the book that is filled with membership lists, governing documents, reports of the Baptist association and the emerging school (now the adjacent university), and a recounting of the visionary and faithful people who brought the congregation (called Meadow Branch Church until 1931) into life and sustained its ministries through thick and think over 175 years.


Gaddy’s earlier work was greatly enhanced by the discovery of “lost” church records — due to a church split between pro- and anti-missions factions — in the Baptist archives at Wake Forest University. She paints an honest and inspiring picture of a church that held fast to the faith despite challenges from within and without.

As Gaddy concluded in her look at the first 175 years: “Meadow Branch-Wingate Baptist Church has withstood many difficult times and encountered serious obstacles, all of which cannot be recounted. What can be said with certainty is that through these years this comparatively small group of believers has left a heritage of strong convictions, great loyalty to their faith in God, and tradition of lending a helping hand to all who are in need at home and abroad.”

A congregation’s story is never lived out away from the stage of broader historical events. So it is fitting that, in part two, Surratt (to even a greater degree than the earlier writing) sets the church’s history in the story of the larger Baptist movement as well as national and world events.

He also noted the societal changes on the local scene where the congregation carries out its daily ministries: “North Carolina continued to attract new residents to expand its population to [more than] 6.5 million in 1990, increasing 21.3 percent in the decade to 8 million in 2000. As textile production moved to emerging Asian nations, new financial capital sought to replace lost textile jobs… Likewise, tobacco production and processing fell precipitously…”

Also, Surratt does not gloss over the more trying times the congregation has encountered in recent decades. He ‘fesses up to fact that between the popular pastorates of Dewey Hobbs, who left in 1964, and Mitch Simpson who came in 1986, three pastors left in conflict with lay leadership.

“The early eighties for the Wingate Church was a time of retrenchment, doubt and difficulty,” Surratt states bluntly. “It has been portrayed in large part as an extension of the surrounding secular culture where economic problems were formidable and leadership was uninspiring.”

Such honest assessments make the writer’s stories of high moments more believable and enjoyable. He tells of an enduring church moved by vibrant leadership to face every challenge with spiritual preparation and passion.

New approaches to worship, ministry, mission and cooperation unfold from a strong willingness — even eagerness — to live in the present tense.

The church’s relationship with Wingate University cannot be overlooked as an important part of the congregation’s identify and mission. But their concern for higher education preceded the 1896 founding of the neighboring school with which they share a name and town.

“The congregation supported Wake Forest College from its establishment in 1834, took pride in its accomplishments, and encouraged young men to at attend this North Carolina Baptist institution,” Surratt noted.

The congregation was strong in advocating for the Wingate School that was named for a popular former Wake Forest president, Washington Manley Wingate. Through the years the church and school (which began offering college courses in 1923) have benefited from shared proximity, personnel and priorities.

In recounting the congregation’s most recent quarter-century of history, Surratt gives careful attention to the ways Wingate Baptist Church has dealt with its middle name (Baptist) while its once-comfortable denominational home moved away from its historical moorings.

He recounts the congregation’s struggle with its denominational identity and its shift into new Baptist partnerships in light of the Fundamentalist Takeover of the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) during the 1980s and ’90s.


Surratt credits consecutive pastors Mitch Simpson (1986-1990), Jim Somerville (1991-2000) and Derrill Smith (2001-present/pictured at right) with helping guide the church in understanding the ever-changing Baptist landscape and making new connections where its long-held commitments to Baptist freedoms could be affirmed and its mission and ministry contributions honored.

A congregation’s bicentennial recounting and celebration always call for a look backward. Gaddy and Surratt have enabled the Wingate congregation and others to do so more clearly and thoroughly with this research and writing.

However, it is equally clear that the 200-year-old church is not keeping its glance to the rear. Current pastor Derrill Smith, according to Surratt, has called the church in recent years to respond to the important question: “Who and what is the Spirit of God calling Wingate Baptist Church to be and do in this 21st century?”

The answer to that question will emerge in days and years yet to come as the venerable congregation faces the challenges and opportunities ahead with the same kind of vigor and faithfulness of those who preceded them.

All God's children got essentials

That which divides the Church into Christian denom- inations and creates division within denominational groups is generally a disagreement over the essentials of faith. It may be that simple.

To require affirmation of a doctrinal position that those in power hold as essential is to draw a line of division. That is not to say whether such division is good, bad or indifferent. It's just reality.

For example, the ever-narrowing field of participation in the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC), carried out by fundamentalist forces in the 1980s, was tied to the repeated assertion that unity could be built only on widespread affirmation of the oddly defined and often changing term of "biblical innerrancy."

It is an odd in that the implied perfection is tied to unavailable original manuscripts and is changing in that the position is routinely qualified until it has no singular definition. In most cases, as applied by Southern Baptist power brokers, inerrancy means agreeing with them on certain biblical interpretations they deem important.

That is why a round of professors who came to Southern Seminary after the SBC takeover didn't hang around long. They affirmed biblical "inerrancy" but that was not enough; they were also expected to agree with an interpretation of scripture that forbid women from assuming certain leadership roles in church. (So, in reality, the "essential" was more about biblical "interpretation" than biblical "authority.")

Three decades after the beginning of the successful campaign to draw in the doctrinal boundaries, Southern Baptist leadership is still struggling to define and defend their views of essential Christian doctrine. Even the very narrowly revised doctrinal statement, Baptist Faith and Message 2000, has not been enough to do the trick. (Just ask an international missionary who keeps finding new doctrinal hoops to jump through when trustees gather supposedly to support their work.)

Danny Akin, president of Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary, gave an address on Oct. 8 at Union University in Jackson, Tenn., concerning the future of the SBC. According to a report in Baptist Press, he urged the convention to move more clearly past its racist roots and geographical homeland. He also called for a streamlined denominational structure that provides more resources for overseas missions and urban ministries in the U.S.

Then, as expected of a current SBC leader, he ended with a careful definition of the essentials as he sees them. Not surprising, his call to do the good work of missions and ministry is restricted to those who can affirm his list of essentials — a model of limited cooperation as redefined by fundamentalism.

(Implied is a strong lack of confidence in cooperating churches to determine the essentials at the local level and then cooperate in worldwide missions despite such differences.)

In addition to affirming the Bible as "inerrant, infallible and sufficient in all matters," Akin's list of essentials included: belief in the "triune God, rejection of evolution, the full deity and perfect humanity of Jesus, penal substitutionary atonement, the need for regenerate church membership, salvation by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone, the reality of an eternal heaven and an eternal hell and the sanctity of life from conception to natural death."

And, of course, opposition to gay marriage and support for heterosexual married couples to have lots of babies.

Non-essentials for Akin, according to the article, included: "Calvinism, elders, whether certain spiritual gifts are still active, the time of the rapture and the nature of the millennium."

My interest is not in arguing with Akin's list but to simply note that division into denominations and within denominations is always tied to whose list of essentials wins out.

It is curious to note, however, that Akin considers opposition to evolutionary science as an essential of faith while tagging the Calvinist position that Jesus died for a predetermined, limited number of persons rather than the whole world as nonessential. (Hint: The reason is that Akin opposes evolution and affirms Calvinism.)

Where Southern Baptist leaders draw lines these days matters little to me. I've been on the outside for a long time and prefer life out here. But being a watcher of all-things church keeps me interested in how and where dividing lines are drawn with the markers of so-called essential doctrine.

Within Christendom there are so many different lists of essentials — ranging from the simple call of Jesus to love God and neighbor to all kinds of things. One has to believe this church would have a quite interesting and long list to follow.

For me, the essentials get fewer and firmer as I get older.

How many pants did I just buy?

Words can be haunting. They appear every- where and cause the mind to wander and wonder.

Yesterday I bought either a pair of pants or two pairs of pants. I thought it was the latter but the tag suggested the former.

A tag on the back pocket read: "The most comfortable pant ever."

I have always referred to the single garment as a "pair of pants." However, once a tweed-wearing salesman at an upscale men's store in Durham, N.C., told me he had a nice "pant" to go with the sports coat (also called "sportcoat") I was buying. But it/they (the pant or pants) was/were more expensive than three pant/pants I could get at T.J. Maxx. So I passed.

A little research revealed that the word "pants" is derived from "pantaloons" — popular undergarments of the 1800s that were also called "breeches." (Like, "You're too big for your breeches.")

Such items were typically made as two separate pieces and then joined in the middle. (Think cowboy chaps.)

As a result, certain items of clothing — though singular garments now — were identified as plural terms. Examples include a pair of tights, a pair of shorts and a pair of underpants.

Clothing manufacturers and marketers occasionally use the term "pant" now — although most of us think of gasp-like breathing when we see or hear that word.

So I have some level of resolution in that my own language preference has been verified by history. Therefore, I bought two pairs of pants yesterday.

Yet according to the label, the apparel company believes that I bought one pant and yet another. Lee Jeans has been around since the late 19th century when they started making dungarees. (One of those, I guess, should be called a "dungaree.")

Even more confusing, Lee claims that in 1920 the company made the first "overall." Yet I always called it a "pair of overalls."

Such confusing use of language has worn out my inquiring mind. It just makes me pant.

'Take a letter, Maria' ... never mind

Soul singer R. B. Greaves' 1969 hit "Take a Letter Maria" came on the oldies station. I thought of what an outdated image it presents.

A boss is dictating a letter to his secretary. The image is one of her jotting down the words in shorthand, going to her typewriter to create the letter and then (after the boss's approval and signature) mailing his "so long' message to his wife.

My mind had to go back a lot of years before remembering the last time I heard someone ask a secretary (administrative assistant now) to "take a letter." Personal, instant communication — for better or worse — has changed the way many of us work and live.

Correspondence, travel plans and other tasks are just a click or two away. I can't imagine verbalizing a message that is scribbled down by another person and then pecked out on a typewriter (at least once) before facing a three-day delivery.

There is some great music on oldies stations, but cultural explanations may be needed for younger listeners.

"Long distance information, give me Memphis, Tennessee. Help me find that party trying to get in touch with me."

Never mind, I'll just send her a text.

Religious liberty back home

Catoosa County, Ga., is a lovely bedroom community just south of Chatta- nooga, Tenn., and the place where I was born and raised. So I've paid attention to — but not commented yet — on the unnecessary uproar involving overtly Christian banners that football players run through on Friday nights at Lakeview-Fort Oglethorpe High School.

The news reports — including this local one — are plentiful. So have been the responses. I think LFO grad and McAfee School of Theology student Libby Grammer Garrett gives good insight in her commentary.

Only somewhat joking, I have described religious diversity in my home community as Baptists, Methodists and those who don't go to church but feel guilty about it. These are also fiercely independent people who want no one telling them what they can or cannot do.

(And as in most communities, the religious faith expressed on banners and in loud voices doesn't always find expression in daily living.)

But the uproar over a reasoned school system policy sadly misses the larger points. Both the school superintendent who enacted the policy and the LFO parent who raised the concern are Christian woman — not enemies of the faith.

It is particularly impressive that the parent who raised the legality question did so after studying church-state issues in a course at Liberty University — founded by the late Jerry Falwell who never did understand the importance of the Baptist-influenced principle of religious liberty for all.

High school students and everyone else in our nation have guaranteed religious freedom. But it is never the function of government (including publicly-funded schools) to endorse one faith expression to the exclusion of others. Having the football team run through a banner with overtly Christian messages at an official school function is rightly to be ruled out of bounds.

Quickly came comments like: "Most people around here believe...." But that's not the reason we have constitutional guarantees. It is so minority faiths — as Baptists were in the early days of this nation and still are in many parts of the world — have equal freedom of expression.

What seems lost in much of this debate is how trivial it is to inject Bible verses into a simple football game. When Paul wrote such great affirmations as "I can do all things through Christ...", he was referring to crucial matters such as enduring imprisonment and brutality because of faith commitments — not trying to score more touchdowns than the bunch of teens from another highly-religious community nearby.

The number on the door is not all that's changed

During Berry College's annual Mountain Day last Saturday, my former roommate Joe Purcell and I ran into each other in the student center. After catching up on family and checking out the fancy new Cage Center next door, we began walking across the beautiful campus toward our former residence.

For the first time since we moved out more than 31 years ago, Joe and I revisited our old dorm room (formerly 919) in Dana Hall. The number on the door was not the only change we observed.

A current student had to let us into the building — a security measure needed now but never imagined in the late '70s.

There were no pay phones in the hallways — and no TV in the common room downstairs where we gathered each night for Johnny Carson's monologue or Saturday Night Live skits with the original cast.

However, some things haven't changed since those good and impressionable years. We still have the lessons that come from sharing time and space with another person.

We recalled that friendship is built on trust, flexibility and good humor. We learned that creativity can come in handy when your pockets and stomachs are empty.

With a two-meals-a-day, five-days-a-week meal plan and an on-campus paycheck that rarely lasted two weeks, Joe and I discovered that a ten-cent package of muffin mix could hold a couple of guys over until the dining hall opened on Monday.

More than anything else, last Saturday, we laughed about episodes that flooded our minds from three decades ago. We can't go back to that time and place, but we have the gifts of memory and laughter.

Some things change and some things do not. Of course, Joe and I might have changed slightly ourselves — for no one mistook us for current students last Saturday.

Not all routines are ruts

Variety may be the spice of life, but routines can add a little flavor too. My morning routine is to open my Mac at the Panera Bread Company in Macon, Ga., or whatever city I happen to be in at the time.

Hazelnut coffee — just after the doors open at 6:30 AM — gets me going in the right direction. And my morning routine gives me a perspective for viewing the early rituals of others.

Recently some marketing folks at Panera thought it wise to add three nesting tables filled with to-go goodies to the traffic flow. Customers heading in for a cup of coffee are tempted to pick up a bag of bagels, loaf of bread or pastry ring.

While the effort seems to work, it has created a traffic-flow problem around the coffee pots. Ongoing adjustments to the placement of the tables don't seem to help.

The marketers (the manager told me) said that putting the tables in an "L" shape would psychologically lead people to form the line to the left. It hasn't worked.

The line forms to the right (the familiar path) and crowds in on those trying to get to the coffee pots. And, of course, being between someone and his/her first cup of morning coffee can be a dangerous spot.

Each morning I check to see how these three tables are configured, where they are in relationship to the coffee service, and how the crowd reacts. One customer simply moved the smallest table out of the way one day in order to get back on his usual path.

Having a routine is value-free. We can have good ones, bad ones and those that matter very little. I consider seeing the sunrise, getting started on my work early while my mind is fresh and enjoying hazelnut coffee to be a good one for me. Others are constructed differently.

But one of the good questions to consider is whether our repeated, daily activities are good routines or simply ruts. Maybe the answer lies in how this activity impacts the rest of the day.

'Brother Jimmy' turns 85 today

President Carter, born Oct. 1, 1924, celebrates his 85th birthday today. Congratulations to the best known Sunday school teacher in the world.

A decade ago I attended his 75th birthday party, the first event held in the then-newly renovated Rylander Theatre in Americus, Ga. The mostly-local gathering treated Sumter County's most famous citizen to musical and spoken tributes.

In addition to local talent, however, white-shoe-wearing Pat Boone and Lynn "Rose Garden" Anderson sang. So did The Indigo Girls — Mrs. Carter's choice for musical diversity.

Before the big celebration, President Carter met with the small press group that included little-knowns like me as well as longtime UPI correspondent Helen Thomas — who has harassed sitting presidents for decades — and TV newsman Sam Donaldson, who covered the Carter presidency for ABC.

Donaldson asked President Carter if he stilled jogged.

"No, but Rosie and I like to ride our bikes around Plains — and visit a neighborhood where mostly African American families live," he replied. "We talk with the boys and girls there."

"Well, how do those children react to you?" Thomas asked.

President Carter shrugged casually: "They just say, 'Hi Mr. Jimmy.'"

Then his trademark smile emerged and he added: "Unless they are Baptists, then they might say, 'Hi Brother Jimmy.'"

President and Mrs. Carter, both deacons at Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains, have been strong advocates of local church ministry and the best of Baptists' commitments to personal faith, religious freedom and compassion for those in need.

God bless you, Brother Jimmy, on your 85th birthday. May you have many more.

PS: And thanks for the recent letter and generous gift to provide Baptists Today subscriptions to 25 of your church families. Your affirmation and support are appreciated.