Ch-Ch-Ch- Changes

Before I get into my announcement, I can't help but share an announcement made by Bilbo Baggins on his a-hundred-and-eleventh birthday. (This is the version from the book, not the movie.)  If you are not a lover of excellent literature, feel free to skip it and go directly to my announcement. 

My dear People, My dear Bagginses and Boffins, and my dear Tooks and Brandybucks, and Grubbs, and Chubbs, and Burrowses, and Hornblowers, and Bolgers, Bracegirdles, Goodbodies, Brockhouses and Proudfoots. Also my good Sackville-Bagginses that I welcome back at last to Bag End. Today is my one hundred and eleventh birthday: I am eleventy-one today!

I hope you are all enjoying yourselves as much as I am. I shall not keep you long. I have called you all together for a Purpose. Indeed, for Three Purposes!

First of all, to tell you that I am immensely fond of you all, and that eleventy-one years is too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits.

I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.

Secondly, to celebrate my birthday. I should say: OUR birthday. For it is, of course, also the birthday of my heir and nephew, Frodo. He comes of age and into his inheritance today. Together we score one hundred and forty-four. Your numbers were chosen to fit this remarkable total: One Gross, if I may use the expression.

It is also, if I may be allowed to refer to ancient history, the anniversary of my arrival by barrel at Esgaroth on the Long Lake; though the fact that it was my birthday slipped my memory on that occasion. I was only fifty-one then, and birthdays did not seem so important. The banquet was very splendid, however, though I had a bad cold at the time, I remember, and could only say 'thag you very buch'. I now repeat it more correctly: Thank you very much for coming to my little party.

I wish to make an ANNOUNCEMENT.

I regret to announce that - though, as I said, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to spend among you - this is the END. I am going. I am leaving NOW.

GOOD-BYE! 

~ Bilbo Baggins' Birthday Speech, The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien

On Sunday, January 12, 2025, I had to make an announcement to my church... my church of the last 15 years... my childhood church... my parent's church. 

Here is that announcement: 

How do I do this? 

About a year ago I stepped down from my pastoral duties. That was hard. I never thought I would do that, but I was at a breaking point and God had providentially supplied my friend and brother Paul to take over. After I stepped down, I didn’t think that I would ever do it again. (Honestly. You could ask Charity. When she started getting to the place where she wanted to hear me preach again, I just violently shook my head “no” and went screaming out of the room. Jeff may actually remember me doing that with him as well.) 

Simultaneously, I was sick of the educational system. Most of you know, at one point, I had been a dean at DHS. I was hoping to work toward whatever measures of change I could enact, but I was shut down at every turn. I was well-received by the other dean and the teachers and most of the staff, but the upper admin didn’t like the questions I was asking. And quite frankly, change was (and is) out of their hands anyway, most things are determined by a corrupt Illinois government. It is so broken. Side story: the way I found out that I was being moved back to the classroom was when they brought the replacement dean in to show him his office …my office … while I was in there working. Talk about insult upon injury. 

So, I was back in the classroom in 2022 and when I got there I found the actual math education worse than when I left it. Quite frankly, it is difficult to even call what I am doing “being a Geometry teacher” … There is barely enough Geometry to call it Geometry! A year ago, after I stepped down from the pastorate, I desperately sought to get out of education. Most of you remember, I even applied at CSX (you might not know that I actually did that on two different occasions) … just to try and escape. 

God, in His providence, did not open that door, but kept it firmly shut. Frankly, that was not the first time I tried to get out of education. The last time I tried, I was a truck driver in South Carolina. I was making really good money, but then Obama got elected and the diesel I bought went from $0.91 per gallon to over $3.00 per gallon. The jobs I got as a truck driver went from making close to $2,000 per week to having two paychecks in a row in December of 2006 to actually read $0.00 on the paycheck.  Needless to say, I went back to education. 

I was all-in at that point, and (for the most part) have been since. But the challenge to be a Christian in this system has been getting progressively more … well… challenging. And I’m not just talking about the things that people typically point to… there are deeper things. Things like, “...why should a student work hard at Geometry?” It isn’t because they could get a good grade and get a scholarship and eventually a good job. No. What is the point of all of that? They should work hard because everything that they do should be done “as if for the Lord and not for men.”  As it says in Colossians, “It is the Lord Christ whom we serve…” You must understand, there is no such thing as a neutral education.  All education is, and will be, religious.

I used to tell people that I would hold on as long as I could -- I crossed that line in September, 2024. I had just given a test and my students all failed, except for a very small handful of kids. (And this wasn’t just me, the same thing happened to all of the Geometry teachers.) The response from the admin was “...what do you guys (the teachers) need to do to get them to pass?”  I went home and told Charity that I had crossed a line. I said, “This is it. I now know, that from this point forward, if my students pass, it won’t be because they actually understand anything about Geometry.”  I had held the line as long as I could, but now I’ve been pushed into an ethical dilemma. 

Side note: we just got an email, about a week ago, from one of the school leaders that included this statement: “... we all know that the grades our students receive aren’t an indicator of what they understand…”

A lot more could be said here, but that is not the focus of this announcement, so I will move on.

For all of September and October (of 2024) I would stand in the hall of DHS, just outside of my room during the passing period, and pray, “Lord. I can’t do this anymore. Will you rescue me?”

Around that same time, just a few months ago, Sam asked me to fill pulpit for Paul for Pastor’s appreciation month. He wanted to give him some time off.  When I said yes, I found that the love and desire to do that (to preach) had revived. I preached to you [Edgewood] on Amos. He needed someone for one week, but I offered to take two. A week later, I told Paul that I wanted to start filling pulpit a little more often, and had even worked out a potential plan to do that. I knew he was planning on preaching over Daniel, and I wanted to sprinkle in some topical sermons on the basics of the Christian life. Things I believed were important. Things like scripture reading, prayer, regular giving, faithful church attendance,  serving one-another, etc. 

All of this was going on:  My loss of hope in the public education system and my renewed (or restored) desire to preach, but more importantly, to teach in the local church. You see: If there is any hope that our society has and our culture has, it will be found in raising up Christians, real Christians, to stand firm in the coming days, weeks, and years. And we have to think that way. The time to think of Christianity as a method of therapy for your problems has to die. Jesus did not come to earth to give us therapy and help us have the life we want now, he came to die so that you may die. … but that is a sermon and we don’t have time for that right now. 

In this whirlwind of thought, packaged in my daily prayers to Jesus to point me in the right direction… to tell me what to do… at that time I was contacted by Andy Harkleroad (who woke up in the middle of the night and had my name pop in his head). He is the pastor of First Baptist in Covington, and he contacted me because he wanted me to be the administrator of their little Christian School and to rebuild this little school with a vision for Christ. It was what I didn’t even know I was looking for. But before I even considered responding, three thoughts entered my mind. #1 - Could I even do this?  #2 - How will this impact Edgewood? And #3 - Is this what Jesus is calling me to do for His church? 

The answer to those first two questions was essentially, “I don’t know.”  But the answer to that third question became very clear to me -- very quickly. It wasn’t superstitious or wishy-washy… There are rock solid ways of knowing God’s will for our lives. So that answer was clear. But I knew it would mean something else. Something difficult.

My first 8 years of teaching were in Christian Schools. I knew that in most Christian schools -- especially when they are a ministry of an associated Church -- will require membership at that church to teach at that school. And even when that is not required, it is usually expedient.  That is why the offer of the job was immediately mixed with sorrow over what it could mean. Edgewood is my family. YOU are my family. What would this mean?  

Over the next several weeks, Charity and I prayed diligently to see what this might mean and whether or not this is something we should even consider.

In addition to administrative responsibilities at the school, I would also be employed to direct the church’s “education” (so to speak), by teaching and directing Sunday Schools and occasionally filling pulpit for the pastor. God had already stirred in my heart to preach again, but I had assumed that would be at Edgewood. I had never even considered doing this anywhere else.  Again we prayed and sought the face of the Lord. We have trusted in His mighty hand to direct our decision, even if it might mean it was mixed with sorrow.  

That all brings me to today. I have to wait until next school year to start the administrator thing… but the church side will start much sooner. The plan, right now, is to start attending First Baptist next week. NOT meaning at all that I won’t see you again. I really hope I can still help Paul when he needs someone to fill pulpit… and quite frankly, it’s not like I’m moving… and I’m not changing my phone number. I may even pop in occasionally on a Thursday night family night. 

Here’s the thing. Many people who have left [Edgewood] have done it in this way: The first week, when they were gone, when I checked in on them, they simply told me that they were out of town or visiting a friend or some other thing (which may have actually been true). The next week they would usually voice some other reason for why they were away.  And then on the third and/or fourth week absent, after I had continued to check-in with them, I would typically receive a text informing me that they had decided to go to another church because … quite frankly … Edgewood wasn’t enough for them. 

THAT is NOT THIS. I love you guys so very much. There is hardly a thing that I wouldn’t be willing to do for you, if I could. I am coming before you and sharing all of this, in the hope that this love will be reciprocated. I am hoping that, in the middle of your sorrow, or maybe anger (but I hope not)... that you might rejoice with me as I am sorrowful with you. 

I am so excited about the prospect of guiding and directing, by the Grace of God, a Christian School… as it develops. But my heart will forever and always hold a place for my Island of Misfit Toys -- Edgewood Church. 

And one last time... "I’m a complete Idiot. But my future is incredibly bright. And anyone can get in on this."

So... There you go.