What would happen if you decided to never choose sides?  Not that you wouldn’t stand for anything, because we all have our opinions, beliefs and perspectives, but rather than linking up with a political party, denomination, or an association, you decided to stand in the middle.  This might help you to influence and build a bridge between opposing viewpoints, many of which are not actually all that opposing.  Of course, you would also be labeled a heretic, a loser, and a wimp by extremists from those political parties, denominations, and associations that you chose not to side with.  Or it could just be that you’re trying to be like Christ, who had no value in sides and positions, because the kingdom he was fighting for…

was not on this earth.

I am friends with 3 of these people on Facebook. I have occasional facebook conversations with one of them.  But in 1984, these people were a major part of my life.

At some point I had to make an adjustment.  I had to be able to meet new people, say hi even when I didn’t feel like it, and open myself up to people even when it wasn’t comfortable.  With the meeting of new people came opening myself up to new ideas.  New ideas were not looked on positively by the community I was a part of in 1984, but they were important for my growth.

I think we grow fastest and best as people when we separate ourselves from our present communities for a time, and then come back to it for a time, like hopping back and forth through the middle of a river on rocks,  each side bringing a new and fresh perspective of the entirety of the river.

I grew up in Fremont, Ohio and have lived in Tucson, AZ; Pensacola, Fl; Atlanta, Ga; and Massachusetts. Each community bringing its own fresh perspectives and the ability to help me see things more clearly (and sometimes less clearly) as I continue on in life.

Sometimes I’m thrilled to have lived in all of these places and known all of these people and gathered all these perspectives, and sometimes I just want to be the little boy again.

I had way more hair back then.

Marty Holman, Scott Michael, and Wesley Keegan

Baptism is a symbol.  A symbol where I as a child, a teenager, or an adult make a decision to publicly identify with Jesus Christ.  I was baptized as an older elementary student with two other guys and three other girls.  But it was my decision.  I love it that whenever we have a baptism at the FC, we have kids, teens, and adults that stand up and say, “I’m committed to this Christ thing.  Thank you Jesus for saving me!”  It reminds me of the day 25 years ago that I jumped in the water and told my church in Fremont, Ohio that…

Jesus is my Savior!

I look at the above picture and memories fill my head like Pepsi into my glass this entire weekend.  There is something about pictures that we correlate with something else – good or bad.

What do you think about when you think of:

The Twin Towers?

Jenny’s Shack on Forrest Gump?

The tabernacle described in the Pentateuch?

Your childhood home?

Buildings are home to great things and great deeds, but the truth is buildings are worthless without the people who move in and out of them, working, laughing, crying, hating,  loving, and living out the great, and sometimes horrible things that they do.

But sometimes the best thing you could do in your life to get out of the rut you might be in is to move out and to be free of the confines of those memories.

Don’t let your memories ruin your future.

I can’t tell you how many people have found my blog in the last week because of the troubles going on at Landmark Church in Cincinnati.  Actually, I can tell you…

23 people alone on Friday and Saturday (as of 1:30 pm) have seen my blog because they’ve been looking for gossip or bashing material on Matt, my uncle, or Lonnie, my mentor.

Sorry chaps, you won’t find any of that here.  But you can find that here. So please go look for gossip and backbiting elsewhere.

Thank you and good night.

The truth cannot come out while it is separated into several parts.  Sure you can tell me something is true, and I can believe you, and take your side, but what if the other side is someone I trust too?  So unless the two sides talk things out together, Parts of the whole truth will stay away from one another like Tyson and Holyfield 10 seconds after someones ear was bitten off.

An individual can tell me its their spouses fault, but unless I hear from both sides together, “it’s a two way street baby”.

Two friends can stay away from one another for an extended period of time because of an offense that has taken place, but unless the offended takes it up with the offensive, its called “gossip”.

A friend and a family member can accuse one another of horrendous things in some sort of religious civil war, but unless the two sides meet, the body of Christ is the one who falls, and guess who will be the one to keep it all down?

(in a church lady voice) Could it be…?

Sitting in church with a sweet yellow suit. Must have been Easter.

Growing up in a midwest church is a little bit like taking a cold shower in the middle of winter.  You know something’s broken and it really sucks to do, but you also kind of understand that in the end, it’s the best thing for you.

Sometimes I wonder what people in churches are thinking.  Well, actually I know what they’re thinking.  A lot of people use church as one of two things:  A place where they can obtain power easier than anywhere else or a place where, if they are needy enough, they can come and get what they need.

Consequently, American churches are full of two types of people:  power-hungry Napolean types and selfish “give me what I need” adolescent types.  And the good news for the former (but not for the church) is that they can control the latter very well.

The verses that people use to tell everyone else that they need to be in church (and rightfully so, btw) can be found in Hebrews 10 when the writer quips, “And let us consider how we may spur one another on towards love and good deeds.  Let us not give up meeting together as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another – and all the more as you see the Day approaching.”

There’s a major disconnect here then because churches want people to get involved in their activities (many churches go 7 days a week) and immerse themselves in the community of the church organization, yet the purpose of said organization is, at its best, “spurring towards love and good deeds and encouraging one another.”

We’re supposed to be a coach, and instead we’re trying to be the game.

At a high school basketball game concession stand at the age of 4

Growing up in the midwest wasn’t that bad.  I think we all look back and see the goods and bads of our childhood.  People who have a negative bent probably believe there childhood sucked and people with a more positive outlook on life probably believe theres was all good.  Of course it could and has been argued that people have a positive or negative bent because of there childhood, but I digress.

One of the more interesting things about growing up in the midwest was the conversation.  While in New England, politics tends to be the conversation of choice, in the midwest, that distinction belongs to sports.

“Hey, how are ya?”

“Good, how are you?”

“Good thanks.” (I’m pretty sure in the midwest it’s illegal to let someone know you’re having a bad day)  “see the game last night?”

And we’re off.  The person could have been talking about high school, college or pro sports, it doesn’t matter.  It’s the default conversation piece, and it’s much easier than talking about the fact that my marriage is falling apart, or I’m in debt over my head because of the large screen TV I just leased with astronomical interest or I lay in bed every night crying wondering if my life has any purpose.  Nope, just good clean sports, and it takes all chances of sharing our real problems away.  Why would someone want to hear about what I’m going through when we could talk about the freakin fastest 6’9″ guy on the planet – Lebron James.

So I learned a bad habit I’ve tried to break for the better part of my life.  Out of church, I talk about sports.  In church is where we talk about spiritual things.

Of course, we could talk about how stupid our pastor is, and all the mistakes he makes too.

Yeah, that could take some of the pain away!

Growing up in Rural Ohio was not much different than the place I’m at now.  I was smaller then than I am now (hence the “growing up” line), and so the world was a lot bigger, making me think that Fremont, Ohio was a metropolis in one of the top 10 populated states in America.  Certainly it was much bigger than Clyde or Green Springs!

It’s amazing how your perspective changes as you go through different stages of life.  The world is getting smaller, and I’m coming to realize more and more how important people are.  Not just people who look like me and act like me and are in my life circumstance, but everyone.

The best thing to me about this metamorphing of my perspective over the years is the way I read Scripture.  I know longer just read it (in the teaching sense) for what it says to my personal circumstance in Fremont, or in Pensacola, or only in Worcester, Massachusetts.  I’m coming to  understand that it is for the whole world.  For the Pygmy in Australia and the Tribal Leader in Africa to the police officer on the west coast and the Meter Maid in Saltillo, Mexico.

And I think that means something more than they all should have the haircut I have in this Fremont-born photo, don’t you?

Hello,

I’m Marty.  Thanks for reading my stuff.

I went to Pensacola Christian College from 1993-1997.  There were so many stupid rules I can’t even tell you.  I couldn’t go to a movie, hold hands with a girl, or go anywhere without a belt on (of course, it couldn’t be hanging down, looking like I was all gangsta though).  Obeying these rules were hard.  There was a handbook of rules several pages in length.  But I knew this information when I went to PCC, and I was not going into my 4 years of schooling negligent of what was ahead.

So when I heard the story of the young man in Findley, Ohio who decided that he would attend the prom of a neighboring high school against the rules and wishes of the Christian school that he attended, I was shocked to read in several articles that he had no clue that he attending the prom would call for consequences.

Then I heard all the radio stations and read all the articles and editorials and talked to several people who thought the school was being ignorant for such a steep punishment, and worse yet, for even having the rule in their books.  “Dancing?  Why shouldn’t the kid be able to do that?  What kind of a lame school would stop a kid from going to a prom?”

These are all great questions, but none of them are the point.  we can crack all day and then some on the school for being legalistic or for the punishment being too steep (which by the way, I believe they are legalistic and the punishment is too steep), but none of these thoughts mater in light of the actual point of the discussion.

Authority.

I know the school well.  I played basketball against this school when the early 90′s as an attender of a rival Christian high school in Ohio, and they are extremely legalistic.  And I have no clue why this kid is actually telling the news media that “he didn’t know the rules applied “outside of the school”.  I went to these schools, and you kind of get the hint that when all the girls have skirts two fingers below the kneeline and when all the guys have short hair, but not too short, that the rules apply everywhere.  What was he gonna do, not dance in the cafeteria?

All that being said, the father now plans on filing a law suit because the school enforced the breaking of this rule by not allowing him to walk during graduation.

To this, I say, “get over it.”  You knew the rules.  You knew there would be consequences.  And you thought it was worth it. But now if it was worth it, you need to deal with the consequences.

I believe that authority is important.  Imagine if I decided that I wanted to take a walk the next time I was in Washington DC.  As I walked, I decided to stop by Pennsylvania Ave.  From there I saw this big white house and decided to go in.  Some men stop me and say something like, “You can’t go in there sir.”  I say, “Why not?”  The reply, “Because this is the residence of the President, and you are not authorized to enter.”  I of course would say, “I believe that to be a stupid rule.  I go into my friends houses all the time back in massachusetts.  I walk into his house.  he walks into mine.  I’m a safe guy, and I’d never do anything to hurt Prez. Obama.”

This would hardly be a good excuse, would it?  You see, the issue is not whether or not the rule is stupid.  The issue is not whether or not I agree with the rule.  The issue is submission.  I can choose to ignore whatever rules I want, but if I do, I must also face the consequences that come with breaking the rules.  It’s called authority…

so suck it up kid.