Art Linkletter died today. Few entertainers could make people laugh like Art Linkletter. Or perhaps it would be better to say that Art had a gift for encouraging kids to “say the darndest things” which in turn made us laugh.

The story that you may not know is that this man who had a love for laughter had a life filled with hardship and tragedy. He was born in 1912 to an unwed mother. In time she felt she could not care for him and so she left him on the steps of a Baptist Church. The Linkletter’s – traveling evangelists – adopted him. They moved to San Diego when he was 7, but times were hard. As he got older, his adoptive parents required that he get part-time jobs to help the family…instead he ran away and lived as a hobo, riding the rails across the country…working when he could.

Later in life, tragedy struck when his son-in-law committed suicide. Then his 20 year old daughter Dian, suffering from the recurring effects of LSD, jumped to her death from her sixth floor Hollywood apartment. Ten years later, his son Robert died in a car accident. During this time, Art wrestled with God for the why’s. He had taken on the faith of his adoptive parents, but in the midst of tragedy that faith became real as he sought a deeper joy. In a 1990 interview Mr. Linkletter said, “Life is not fair…not easy. But I’m an optimist. Even though I’ve had tragedies in my life, and I’ve seen difficult things, I still am an optimist.” It was this faith-driven optimism that allowed him to find the smiles even in the midst of tragedy.

I’ve had a bit of a smile theme going this week. So in the interest of smiling, watch the video — Linkletter at his best. I love the “Our Father who art in heaven” and the “Catholic Baptist” responses. Enjoy and smile.  You’ll feel better.

There’s just something about a smile…something compelling, something holy.  I ran across a blog the other day that was posting some of the really ridiculous pictures of Jesus that have been a part of the Christian experience — like bare-chested, sad, skinny white guys. And every few years another film studio puts out another “life of Christ” movie. Regardless of the particular slant of the movie, controversial or creative, sacred or sarcastic, it seems like most films share a common portrait of Jesus. He’s solemn, serious, and even severe. His face has this “I’ve been sucking all day on a kosher dill pickle” look, and his eyes are so sad.

That’s not the portrait that Mark paints.  At least occasionally Mark paints Jesus with a smile.  I mean come on. Do you really think that Jesus could have attracted scores of disciples and drew great crowds — without a smile. Without joy. Without spirit, spunk, wit and wisdom. Without laughter. Do you really think Jesus would have been such a popular party guest with all the people who lived in the margins of society if he was a woe-begone sad sack?

When Jesus healed Jairus’ 12 year old daughter, don’t you think he smiled? At least a smile, right. Or more likely, this Jesus who loved children, picked her up by the arms and did a helicopter, before giving her a huge carpenter style bear-hug and then letting her down. When Jesus quieted the storm, don’t you suppose he gave it a little bit of drama?

When he started with 5 loaves and 2 fish, then fed enough people to fill the Bryce Jordan center, and ended up with 12 baskets of leftovers — wasn’t there at least a few in the crowd who let out a victory whooop and started dancing in a circle with their family? And when they did…don’t you suppose Jesus let out a few loud howls of laughter? When the disciples had collected 12 baskets of leftovers…do you suppose they sat them down at the feet of a stoic, unemotional Jesus? The farmers and fisherman of that day…lived day to day, hand to mouth. Wouldn’t the sight of such abundant food leave them gasping for delight? Is it that difficult to imagine a laughter-loving food fight among the disciples and Jesus? Isn’t laughter and joy the appropriate response to amazing grace?  

And have you ever noticed how joyful… generous people are? Lately it’s been difficult to keep that picture out of my mind — Jesus with a smile.

Perhaps you need to hang that picture on the walls of your mind — Jesus with a smile.  Perhaps that screaming preacher you heard is wrong, he doesn’t hate you. Perhaps when he looks at you.. He smiles. Perhaps when he thinks about all you could become… He smiles. Perhaps when he thinks about the grace he’s going to pour out on you… He smiles.

Jesus with a smile that eclipses my sin. Jesus with a smile that reminds me that he not only loves me, he likes me. Jesus with a smile that foretells grace.

Let me turn it a half-turn…back to us. Go learn to smile like Jesus. Jesus once said that if we want to get into the Kingdom of Heaven we have to become like little children — smiles look so natural on the face of a child. Let people see Jesus in your smile, in your joy, in your hopeful optimism. Jesus with a smile.

So Lynn and I spent 3 days in Toronto with Sarah…a celebration of her graduation from Penn State.  We stayed in a downtown Marriott, connected to the world-renowned Eaton Centre shopping mall.  Yes that’s right — the ultimate sacrifice.  I gave my daughter three days of shopping.  (But God blessed my sacrifice — the tax on clothes in Canada is over 13%.  Sarah decided to “just say no.”)

Even now, good memories come quickly to mind.  A long talk at Three Brewers restaurant.  Making Sarah scream at midnight in the hotel.  Drinks overlooking the lake.  Walking on glass 1200 feet in the air.  Pea Bacon sandwich at St. Lawrence Market.  Speeding ticket on the way home.  (Wait cross that one out…I’m just doing the good memories.)

So what does that have to do with branding?  Well good experience lead to good memories which enhance the brand.  If you ask me if Toronto is worth a visit, you will get a hearty yes.  Toronto has a good brand for me.  On the other hand, I have to be honest if you say “Toronto” the first picture that sneaks into my mind are two words in orange… “Tim Hortons.”   Best description is that Tim Hortons is Canada’s version of Dunkin Donuts.  But they are EVERYWHERE.  Think Starbucks on locational steroids.  Everywhere.

Now they had good bagels.  Decent coffee.  But I’m guessing that Toronto isn’t planning a “Come to Canada for Tim” campaign anytime soon.   In fact, I would guess that people in Toronto see those two words so often that they don’t see those two words.  But those two words have become part of the Toronto brand for me.

So here is my question — the thoughts I am pondering.  In our churches…even if we provide a good experience, have a healthy culture, lead people to a vital relationship with God and a purpose for living… it is likely that we will leave people with some unintended memories.  We will provide some unintentional branding.  People will leave with some impressions not on our strategic plan.

So what are our “Tim Hortons?”  What are the things that have become so common that an insider doesn’t even see it…but so frequent that a guest can’t help but see it?  Maybe it isn’t that big a deal…unless people walk away thinking more about ______________ than they think about Jesus…?

Actually I think I ran into both Jacks in the same year.  Jack Bauer had already lived two days on tv, but we didn’t know Jack till season 3.  We watched season 1 & 2 one week while we were on vacation.  So Jack and Jack both came into my life 6 years ago.  To celebrate my Lost 24, I thought I would share a few things about these two Jacks.  So what do we know?  

1) The Jack I thought would be dead is still alive and the Jack I thought would be alive is now dead.

2) One Jack killed the smoke monster and the other Jack killed… pretty much everyone.

3) One Jack was a doctor, the other Jack always needed a doctor…but never needed a doctor.

4) One Jack lived a day every year.  The other Jack sometimes lived in a few years every day.

5) The life of one Jack was filled with mystery.  The life of the other Jack was filled with treachery.

6) One Jack was always almost a hero.  The other Jack was almost always a hero.

7) You know which one would win in a fight.  One Jack spent a lot of time crying in the woods.  If the other Jack had been on the island, he would’ve made the smoke scream while he killed all “the others.”

8) In death one Jack gained the love of his life.  In life one Jack lost the love of his day.

9) The Jack who died ended up with all his friends.  The Jack who lived ended up alone.

10) The Jack who was always right ended up alone.  The Jack who admitted he might be wrong, ended up with all his friends.

11) Both Jacks were willing to sacrifice…both Jacks started with great faith…in their own abilities…but one Jack finally embraced his need for help.

Okay, they were just shows…not real life.  I willingly gave them two hours of my week, or 90 minutes on hulu.  I enjoyed them.  So let me wax philosophical for just a moment.  In the end, Lost aimed in the direction of the grand themes of the true myths (ala C.S. Lewis.  In fact “Lost” reminded me some of Lewis’ book “The Great Divorce.”) of redemption, hope, faith, community, rebirth, and yes even God.  Redemption is possible…but we can’t do it alone.  Redemption and spiritual growth are found in community.  Faith and hope are found in love.   In the end we find that lost was ultimately an adjective for souls, more so than island, but there is hope.  In the end Lost was found.

On the other hand… 24 was never able to leave the formula.  Jack was always right.  Jack was usually alone.  Jack killed those who opposed him, but that was usually okay because if you thought Jack was wrong you were at best wrong, at worst dead.  No redemption…closer to revenge…but not quite revenge either.  More like vindication.  It’s amazing how lonely vindication can become.  So in the end Jack was right.  Jack won.  And Jack was alone.

The moral of the story that the two Jacks tell… life is meant to be an ensemble story.  It’s hard to find redemption alone.  You may think you’ve won, but if you end up alone… is it really a win?

If you’ve been a fan of both…you now have two extra hours in your week… go find a friend.  :)

So Lynn, Sarah and I went to Paul’s funeral on Friday.  (See Live Part I).  Paul died last Sunday.  52 years old.  Husband and father.  Pastor and counselor.  Friend and mentor.  Follower of Jesus and Child of God.  The church was pretty full, maybe not quite as full as when his daughter died 4 years ago, but still pretty full.

I get a bit introspective at funerals…wonder what people will say about me, that kinda thing.  I loved the Paul-stories that were shared.  His sisters and brother shared — priceless humor.  His wife wrote a letter…the “Norwegian foreplay” line was priceless.  His son David shared — heart grabbing and humor.  His mother rose to her feet and shared.  One of her best lines about Paul was that when he was young, she was afraid that he wouldn’t make it long in the church because “Paul liked to have more fun that some of the Bible churches we went to…”   And then his dad spoke and finished with the line… “We hate to lose him, but that’s just the way it is.”

Now there was more than humor.  David touched a lot of lives.  But there was humor.  I love humor at funerals.  I’m considering asking Brian Regan to speak at my funeral.  It’s said that when King Herod (of Bible fame) knew that he was going to die, he had community leaders throughout Jerusalem put in jail with orders for the execution to take place on the day that he died.  He wanted to make sure there were tears in Jerusalem when he died.  I want to make sure there is laughter.

I think…if we really believe Paul’s (the apostle) words…”for me to live is Christ and to die is gain.”  If we really believe that this person has just won the lottery of life, has just won the jackpot of joy, has just won the trophy of all treasures…there should be huge amounts of joy at the funeral of a Christian.  And joy opens the doorway for laughter in the midst of grief.

Yes there is grief, but the grief does not overwhelm us because a funeral is like an airport.  Your friend just got on a flight for paradise and your flight got delayed…but you’re headed to the same place and you know that you will see him in a short time (relatively speaking).  But the airport is not our home.

But here is the clincher…I think there will be more room for joy at our funerals if we live for Christ before we get there.  I don’t think that Paul’s statement was an either-or statement.  I think it was an if-then statement.  If I live for Christ, then my death will bring me great gain.

So go live your life for Christ…don’t worry about gain now…you get that later.  Live for Christ as you work.  Live for Christ as you love your family.  Live for Christ as you live in your city.  Live for Christ as you have fun with your friends.  And if you ever come to my funeral, (not today, but someday) I hope you come with a smile on your face, ready to laugh.

I spent the day in New York City today.  Lynn and I are spending a few days with Sarah to celebrate her graduation from PSU.  Day 1 was spent in the big apple.  Lunch at the Shake Shack.  A guided tour of Chelsea Market and the High Line Park with one of Sarah’s friends Stephanie.  Brick Oven Pizza just off Times Square and then a Broadway show.

It was a good day…except for Sarah’s comment, “Dad, NYC driving brings out the worst in you.”  Ouch.  But she’s right.  

It started out as good natured internal competition.  In other words, internally, in my own mind I was competing with the other drivers.  Nothing wrong with that…at least not in my world…a little competition is good for the soul.  But then I started getting annoyed.  Holy-Lane-Cutting-Automobiles…there are so many people to be annoyed at.  That guy that won’t let me get over a lane so that I can turn at the one-way that I just realized is my street.  That lady in front of me at the toll booth who sat in her car for a good 4.5 minutes looking for money to pay the toll booth operator.  Then there was the person who honked at me when I didn’t immediately go when the light turned green — in my defense I thought I should wait for the car ahead of me to go first.  Oh yeah don’t forget about the haughty pedestrian crossing the street when he shouldn’t.  He was hurrying until he saw that I saw him, then he slowed to a turtle’s pace as though to say…”whaddya gonna do — run me over?”

So before I knew it, what started as an internal game turned into external annoyance.  And the external annoyance turned to a few words.  Like the little boy once said to his mother, “Mommy how come when daddy drives, all the idiots are driving?”   :)

The nature of New York City driving is that submission is not rewarded with success.  Seriously if you drive in a submitted fashion you will never reach your destination.  The race is won by those who exert their automobile rights, step on the gas, cut over without looking, honk, ignore eye contact when you are looking for a break-in space.  Did I say honk?  I have to be honest… I like driving in New York City.  :)

But here is my take home.  God’s teachable moment for me.  If we relate to people, the way I drive in New York City…wow.  Authentic community dies.  Because when it comes to authentic community — success ultimately comes to those who learn the life-giving power of submission.  There is no long-term community without submission.  Without submission, ultimately there will be a reason to drive in different directions.  Without healthy, vibrant submission, relationships become a race to win and everyone ultimately loses.

I’m going to hit this one a few more times in the coming days… under the heading “submission and community.”  But for the moment, let me just ask you, when it comes to relationships are you a NYC driver?

So last weekend, my daughter Sarah graduated from Penn State University.  Not only that but June 1st she starts a new job in Pittsburgh. best american essays  Graduated and moving to a new city, new adventure, new chapter in God’s Story for her life.  I’m pretty excited for her.  Sure a little emotional too — I’ll get wet eyes before I finish this post — but most of the emotion is falls in the love, pride, gratitude, excitement arena.

I’ve been the lead pastor at Calvary for 16 years — Sarah turned six a few months after we arrived in State College — and it has been a joy watching God@work@Calvary.  I have a certain sense of satisfaction in seeing all that God has done in 16 years — a certain sense of gratitude that God has allowed me to partner with all of you in leaving a mark.  BUT…

As I ponder my memories of Sarah and look forward to the moments to come… — I have no doubts — my greatest legacy is my family. I can’t tell you how much gratitude I have, first towards God, but also to Lynn and to Sarah, for allowing me to partner with them in leaving a mark in and through Sarah’s life.  So I’m just going to take a moment and in a public kind of way affirm my daughter Sarah and what I see God doing in her life.

1) I love the tenderness of her heart towards God and others.  Oh she can get loud sometimes… and sometimes the loudness doesn’t seem like tenderness.  Oh she can get annoyed with people — even me — and sometimes the annoyance may not seem like tenderness.  But you cannot be around her long without realizing her heart is tender.  I have loved watching her grow in her love for God.  I love watching the way she loves her family.   I can’t wait to see what God will do through that tenderness.

2) I love that she is fun.  She’s learning not to take her self too seriously and it just makes me smile inside and out when I hear her laugh.  Over the course of her years at Penn State, I couldn’t tell you which I was more proud of… her academic success or her involvement in some pretty good practical jokes.

3) I love that she doesn’t hate Calvary — and she actually enjoys listening to me preach.  (At least that’s what she says when I’m around. :)  I’ve seen too many pastor’s kids grow up hating church.  Sarah has been involved in youth ministry at Calvary.  She has been on multiple mission trips.  She has shared in church.  She has served in the community.  She loves Calvary.

4) I am proud of her accomplishments.  She has done a good job of discovering the ways that God has shaped her and is leaning into those strengths as she leans into God and leans into the future.  When she does that God works through her, I watched that this year in her job at Target.

5) I love that she loves orphans.   Loving orphans comes from the heart of God.  I smile every time I think of her playing with the  children in Myanmar.  I have no doubt that in the days to come, God will use her to touch the lives of hundreds of orphans.

6) I am thrilled that she is passionate about growing in her relationship with God.  It’s not just an outward look, it comes from her heart.  She is willing to look inside and sort through the junk to find the glory.

7) I love the memories I have of her.  From our first trip to Kansas while she was a baby — 8 hour trip, she cried for 7 and 1/2 hours, then fell asleep 15 minutes before we arrived at our destination!  To her asking her grandfather from South Dakota, if they still hunt peasants (she meant pheasants) in South Dakota.  From scaring her with my gorilla’s mask, to taking her to New York City.  From Disney to interviewing boyfriends to mission trips.  My heart is so filled with good memories that I almost can’t take it.  Maybe I’ll share a few in a latter blog post.

So today Lynn and I are headed out of town with Sarah… part of our graduation gift to her is this trip.  A little time in NYC following by a few days in Toronto.  A show.  Some shopping.  Some walking and talking.  Some laughter and perhaps even a hug or two.  She’s part of our mark on the world…and she’s left a mark on us.  It’s good stuff.

I spent a few days this week with our pastoral staff and spouses hanging out with other pastors and spouses from our network — two great days of conversation, talks on marriage, just hanging out, and worship. During our worship time, Pastor Stac read from Psalm 91 — good stuff — including the words,

“Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I trust him.“

On the way there we crossed over the Youghiogheny River.  That and those verses reminded me of a teachable moment God gave me a few years ago.  We went whitewater rafting on the Youghiogheny — heading there with with some family and friends, I went with a little fear and trepidation…(not so much for myself mind you, but for the others).  One of the instructions we were given at the beginning was when (not if but when) you get thrown out of your raft and into the river — DON’T TRY TO STAND.  The majority of people who drown are those who try to stand.  When they try to stand, the current keeps pulling at them, their foot gets caught in the rocks and under they go…never to be heard of again. I remember this instruction very well.

I share it with my kids every time they go whitewater rafting.

So… WHEN I fell in…I have to be honest.  I tried to stand.  I don’t know if it was a natural reaction or stupid self-confidence. But I couldn’t stand.   Fear washed over me like the cold water of the river.  I had no control.  I’m lucky my foot didn’t get caught.  But here was the teachable moment — as I floated down the river with my feet in the air, past the guide who was STANDING on a rock in the middle of the river,  I realized that the problem was not my inability to stand.  The problem was the size of my rock.

The psalmist tells us that if we live in the shelter of the Most High, we will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty because God is our refuge.  The Prophet Isaiah said, “God is the rock of all ages.”

Obviously, I made it out of the water.  How did I get out?  The guy on the rock — the big rock — he threw me a rope.  Guess what the Hebrew word for “hope” means… throw a rope, or get attached by a cord.  How cool is that?  God stands in the midst of the turmoil, he is not only a rock that cannot be moved, a refuge and a shelter — but he throws you a cord of hope and says “Hang on, let me pull you up here.”

When you fall into the whitewater turbulence of life — you’ve got your feet up in the air because you can’t stand — and you find yourself floating by a rock that looks like a refuge, watch for the rope…

Early this morning, Paul died.  52 years old.  He woke up on Sunday morning having absolutely no idea that by Sunday afternoon he would be in the hospital, no idea as he went into surgery Sunday evening that it would be the last time he would see his family on this side of heaven.  An aneurysm behind his stomach burst.  The doctors operated for hours, but in the end they could not save him.  They stopped the surgery and brought him back to his room so that his family could say goodbye.

Paul was Lori’s husband.  Lori is Lynn’s cousin.  Four years and one week ago, Paul and Lori’s daughter Jenna died… car accident.   In the space of 209 weeks, a family of four has become a family of two.  As a husband and a father I can’t begin to imagine…  the ferocious tenacity of the “why” question.  God.  Why?   Why did they die?

As a pastor I am drawn to answer with Biblical hope.  The statement that God keeps leading me to was first spoken by Paul.  He said this, “For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.”   (Philippians 1:21)  Let me share just a few of the thoughts that are painted by the brushstrokes of that statement.

1)  Far too many of us live out the opposite of that statement.  “For me to live is gain and to die is Christ.”  We live as though the primary goal of this life is gain.  Gain success.  Gain friends.  Gain a home.  Gain an education.  Gain a retirement.  Gain stuff.  Gain a career.  Spend all of this life gaining.  Then when you die — if you are a Christian — you get Christ.

2) If the goal of this life is gain — then the death of two people in their prime — is incredibly unjust.  They have unfairly been cut short from the gain they might have had from more life.  But if gain comes when we die, then death is like a combination of getting called up to the majors, winning the lottery, and becoming whole all at the same time — and it is equally available to all.

3) If the goal of this life is Christ — then the death of two people in their prime — brings them the goal of this life.

Paul and Jenna both pursued Christ in this life, both of them made much of Christ.  I can’t even begin to list the ways, but those who know them will agree, they aimed their lives in the direction of Christ — and when they died, they gained.  Imagine life that overflows, that can’t be continued in a heart now take that times a power of 100, that doesn’t even touch what they have gained.

That’s why Paul can say in another letter, “We don’t grieve like those who have no hope.”  He doesn’t say, “we don’t grieve.”  We do.  I liked Paul.  As a non-Jacobsen he welcomed me into Lynn’s extended family.  Over the years we had some good conversations about faith.  I watched his courage as he walked through the death of his daughter.  I see evidence of his heart in many places.  But I can’t begin to imagine the grief that his wife and son are experiencing at the moment.  We grieve our loss, but we live in our hope.  We live in our hope that when our living is all about Christ, our dying will be all about gain.

If you read this…take a moment.  Tell God thank you for the lives around you that “live Christ.”  Then take a moment and pray for Lori and David (Paul’s son).  Then ask God to show you the places where your living has gotten caught up in the goal of gain.

Why do we live?  To make much of Christ.  What happens when we die?  We gain.

So I know that many people use Paul’s missional encounter on Mars Hill as a positive example of  interacting with… perhaps even embracing current culture to share the story of Jesus.  I’ll be honest I keep getting hung up on the fact that Mars Hill was the scene of one of Paul’s greatest failures…not many believed.  I wonder Paul intended this story as a descriptive how-to or how-not-to?

At the same time, I am convicted by the words “all possible means” in I Corinthians 9:22.  Paul says, “I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some.”

So I’m stuck between “all-possible-means” and Mars Hill.

I want to be an all-possible-means Kingdom builder.  I want to be open to all-possibly-means of life-transformation and church-reformation.  But I keep wondering… was something missing at Mars Hill?  Let me give you an example.  On his Big Is the New Small blog, Scott Williams posts a great YouTube video about social media.  Watch this…

So –obviously social media is a possible means to share the story of Jesus.  Social media is a possible means of saving some.  If this is true then we need to use it.  It is an Areopagus for 96% of millenials and millions of others.  It is a place where people congregate, debate, interact, spread new ideas and scorn old ideas.

But my question is…how do we use this means without it becoming a Mars Hill mistake?  I think — the key — is prayer.  Sorry to make it so simple, — though not simplistic — but we are most effective when one-mighty-presence permeates our all-possible means. Anyone out there using facebook as your prayer list?  Anyone gathering together to pray that a status update that lifts up Jesus would be anointed to be just the right word read at just the right time?  Anyone believing that the Holy Spirit could do something supernatural on Twitter?