While in Pigeon Forge last weekend, I discovered a new sport – Zorbing.  It’s a New Zealand invention.  In essence, you bounce down the side of a mountain inside a rubber ball.  It puts quite a bounce in your step. It reminds me of when, as boys, we used to roll down the hill at Roan Mountain in a barrel. I’m a firm believer that one should never grow up.

A thankful, cheerful spirit can be cultivated by considering what might have been, and then rejoicing that it wasn’t.  There’s an article on CNN today about the emotions of the passengers aboard Northwest Flight 253, now that some time has passed since they were nearly killed by the Christmas Day Underwear Bomber.  One of the passengers, Roey Rosenblith, 25, had a great thing to say.  This is very preach-able (except maybe for the beer reference).

Though this might sound strange, for me personally almost getting killed 30,000 feet above the earth by an al Qaeda terrorist has been one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.  Now being alive, seeing the blue sky, hearing the rain fall, eating a delicious meal, drinking a beer with a friend – everyday stuff just feels like an amazing gift…  I feel as though I’ve somehow cheated death and against all odds been given this gift of continuing my life.

I actually have my boarding pass framed now, and it’s sitting on my desk, right next to a little prayer book I keep with its page turned to Psalm 23.  I keep it there simply to remind myself that whatever happens to me, things could always be far worse.

It reminds me of an incident from the life of St. Francis of Assisi, a quote from Winston Churchill, and from a story from a Dale Carnegie book.  I’ll post those over the next few day.  It’ll make a good multi-part series on the joys of not being killed.

Speaking of the weekend, I’m leaving today to speak at a Pigeon Forge retreat sponsored by my friends, Jerry and Linda Scarborough, of Columbus, Georgia.  It’s a beautiful weekend with lots of sunshine, and I’m looking forward to the trip.  Thanks to all who hold us up in prayer.

Too often, we race to and from our destinations as though the world would stop if we paused a moment.  I’m of the opinion there’s nothing wrong with taking an occasional extra day for R&R, especially when traveling.  I’m not talking about cheating on our expense accounts, of course.  We have to pay all personal expenses ourselves; but sometimes a personal day can piggy-back nicely onto a business trip or speaking engagement.

This week, for example, I have the privilege of speaking at a retreat in Pismo Beach; so I came out a day early to hike up Bishop’s Peak.  My only regret is that the camera on my cell phone wasn’t working and the batteries were out on my other camera; because the views and vistas were breathtaking, along with the rock formations, the boulders, and the golden California terrain.

The trail at the bottom of the mountain wound through eucalyptus groves, then across grassy balds to a goat’s path that threaded through rocky passes and precipices.  In some places, I had to climb over rocks and boulders to follow the path.  When I finally reached the summit, colossal rocks were stacked on each other as though giants had been playing with oversized pebbles.  It was like a jumbled Stonehenge, all perched on the ridge of a towering peak and with views that disappeared into the distant Pacific.

But I digress.  As I was saying, there’s nothing wrong with taking an occasional extra day for R&R.  Try it sometime soon.

I’ve learned from food writers Jane and Michael Stern to look for small eateries that specialize in regional specialties, so-called “Road Food.”  These restaurants aren’t chains; they may be expensive, but more often they’re cheap.  Sometimes they’re hole-in-the-walls.

Recently when I was heading out to Portsmouth, Ohio, several students told me to eat at Hickies, and I also learned it was a favorite of my friend, Neil Gilliland.  It’s a hamburger joint that serves small 85-cent burgers with onion and pickles in steamed buns.  Hickies has several variations of these burgers, including one served with tartar sauce and another with three patties served on an outsized bun.  French fries with gravy are also a big hit. I noticed lots of people also ordering their bean soup and homemade chili.

Sitting there with my friends, Aaron Reed and David Snow, I felt transported back fifty years to the days when I regularly got burgers and fries (without the gravy) at the soda fountain at Burgie Drug Store in Elizabethton.  I really miss those steaming machines, where the cook put the bun in a stainless box and pump the lever, sending steam around the burger, fusing meat to bun and giving the bread a soft, hot texture.  Whatever happened to those?  Well, they still have one at Hickies.

 If you can’t go to Israel, I’ve got the next best thing.  Plan a visit to the Exploration in Antiquity Center in Lagrange, Georgia, about an hour southwest of Atlanta.  Earlier today I toured this complex, and there were moments when I felt like I was back in the Holy Land, listening to an Israeli guide talk about the land and culture of biblical times.

That said, I don’t want to create overly high expectations.  When I first arrived, I was a little disappointed.  The Antiquity Center is in a remote spot on an industrial parkway, and it’s not yet as fully developed as the planners want.  I wandered around on my own for awhile, and at first I thought, “Is this all there is?”

But then I joined in a guided tour, and I began to realize how many lessons come to life. 

The founder of the Antiquity Center is Dr. James Fleming, an archaeologist who has been responsible for eighteen excavations of major biblical sites.  He’s been digging in the Holy Land since 1971, and is a keep student of both the Land and the Book.  He’s also taught at Jerusalem’s Hebrew University and at other schools, and he continues to teach the Arab and Jewish Guides who lead Holy Land tours in and around Israel.

Dr. Fleming is currently back in Israel, so I didn’t get to meet him.  But the gentleman who led our tour was wonderful.  As we sat in an actual Bedouin Tent, he explained the story of Abraham and Sarah, and I picked up some insights I had never before understood.

As he stood by a replica of an ancient sheepfold, I could imagine being a shepherd in biblical times.  Other exhibits include a desert oasis, a well, a cave-stable, a threshing floor, replicas of Old and New Testament tombs, a grape and olive press, Canaanite and Israelite altars, and a four-room Israelite house.

The Center caters to guided tours for any age.  With children, there’s a special tour that shows youngsters how bread was made in biblical times.  With others, the program usually ends with a biblical meal – a four course dinner as it would have been in biblical times.

Dr. Fleming hopes to expand the exhibits in the future with a football-field sized replica of the Sea of Galilee.

Visiting the Atiquities Center would be a great addition to a family trip to Atlanta, or a wonderful field trip for children or for groups in the church.  I tagged along with a Senior Adult group today; and, like it said, at times I felt I was touring Israel itself again.

  During the Free Will Baptist Convention in Cincinnati, I occupied some of my time tracking down chili parlors.  There are about 180 of them in the city, and many of them were started by Greek immigrants in the early-to-mid 1900s.  Cincinnati chili has a secret ingredient.  Depending on the recipe, it has a bit of chocolate, cinnamon, and/or nutmeg to enhance the flavor.  It’s typically served on a small plate over a heaping pile of spaghetti, and, if you get it “five-way”, it’s covered with beans, onions, and a mountain of shredded cheddar cheese.

Two of these restaurants have morphed into big chains—Skyline and Gold Star.  They’re hard to beat.  But here are four great mom-and-pop chili parlors that I enjoyed, and if you’re going to be in Cincinnati you might want to check them out.

My favorite was Pleasant Ridge Chili at 6032 Montgomery Road.  Part of the charm was the ambiance.  This is a storefront parlor, not in the finest part of town — an old-time, 1960s café with canopy-covered booths, small tables squeezed down the middle, a counter at the front, and a juke box in the corner.  It was started by an old Greek fellow who still works there.  He told me he emigrated from Greece in the early 1940s and about six years later opened this restaurant with his own chili recipe.  His grandson now runs it.  I thought it was just great.

Camp Washington Chili is also a single-shop outfit, and it, too, was started by a Greek immigrant in the 1940s.  But the building is new, clean, and spacious; and the walls are lined with reviews from local and national magazines.  The chili didn’t seem to have as much of that unique, quaint Cincinnati taste, the noodles are a little thicker, the sauce was a little oilier, and the beans were pintos, not kidneys.  Jeff Nichols and I enjoyed it very much, but it probably wasn’t my favorite.

Blue Ash Chili has two locations, and I stopped at one near the interstate just north of the city.  This chili was great; not much different from Skyline, but their open air patio gave me the option of dining outside, which is always my favorite (weather permitting).  On the downside, I thought the chili had too little sauce and too much cheese.

Empress Chili is often rated the best by CinnChili aficionados.  I stopped there as I was leaving Cincinnati, but by that time I was just about chili-ed out.  But it was piping hot with that wonderful distinctive flavor, arranged in perfect proportions on a larger plate, and it probably deserves its applause.  If I’d had it earlier in the trip, I would have rated it the finest.

This little excursion into taste-testing and restaurant-reviewing took a toll, but someone has to do the research.  And although it’s going to be a long time before I want to look at another plate of Cincinnati chili, I’d recommend it to anyone wanting to taste a bit of meaty Midwestern, five-way, Greek-inspired Americana. 

PS – Tomorrow’s sermon at The Donelson Fellowship is also about food, in a way.  The subject is the Fruit of the Spirit, in Galatians 5:22-23.  You’re invited to join us at 8:45 or 10:15.

Thirty years ago when I was picking up the plow of pastoring, I tried some things that were different, a few of which worked, a few of which didn’t.  My church gave me freedom to innovate, and over the years God blessed our efforts.  To my amazement, the process was marked by sniper fire from certain figures in the very denomination I was trying to serve. I quickly learned to listen to divine guidance rather than denominational grievance.  So we pressed on without looking back.

But I thought it was a shame that seasoned leaders wouldn’t stand in the corner of a young pastor who was trying his best to find ways of winning people to Jesus and growing a church for Christ and His Kingdom.

It was a shame then, and it’s a shame now.

Looking back, I’m grateful for the handful of leaders who did speak up and support me.  I wouldn’t be a denominationalist now without those men and women whom I revere to this day.

Churches in America are fighting an uphill battle to win people to Christ.  This is not the time to aim potshots at innovative young pastors, as long as their message and their morality is sound, and souls are coming to Christ under their ministry.  Let’s offer the benefit of a doubt, give them time to grow and mature, pray for their success, and stand in their corner with a towel, water bottle, and a strong word of encouragement.

If you’re planning to preach soon from the book of Genesis or on the subjct of the Last Days (or if you need a great weekend getaway), you might check out the newly-opened Noah’s Resort Hotel in Hong Kong.  The brainchild of three brothers, all billionaires, it’s the first full-size replica of Noah’s Ark that has ever been built.  One of the brothers is reportedly an evangelical Christian, and he initially planned to build a biblical theme park.  But the idea of a hotel complex won out.  The Ark sits on 270,000 square feet of space and was developed in conjunction with five Christian organizations.  In addition to the hotel, it houses a restaurant, an exhibition hall, a children’s museum, and 67 pair of fiberglass animals.  The story is in the Wall Street Journal. 

Another reconstruction of Noah’s Ark was recently finished in the Netherlands, one that actually floats and contains actual barnyard animals.  This one is not full-scale.  It’s only one-fifth the size of the biblical original; but the builder, a 50-year-old Dutch man, wants to sail it to the London 2012 Olympics, and then on to America.  Here’s a picture:

Another new ark has arisen in the Canadian town of Florenceville, New Brunswick:

And there’s even a new one built on the actual Mount Ararat.  It’s being constructed by the environmental group Greenpeace to warn of impending climate disaster:

Another ark is half-built in Froastburg, Maryland.  Rev. Richard Green began it in the 1970s, but ran out of funds in the 1990s:

Does the growing armada of Noah’s Arks have a message for today?  Maybe it’s a reminder that we’re living in the Last Days!

But as the days of Noah were, so also will the coming of the Son of Man be (Matthew 24:37).

Long ago by God’s Word the heavens existed and the earth was formed out of water and by water.  By these waters also the world at that time was deluged and destroyed.  By the same word the present heavens and earth are reserved for fire, being kept for the day of judgment…. (2 Peter 3:5-6).

PS – For my sermon, Christ, the Ark, click here.

This morning in Greenville, NC, I had breakfast with Bobby Jackson, who has traveled the roadways of America for decades in thousands of evangelistic meetings.  He’s one of the most unique characters I’ve ever met, and I never tire of listening to his stories.  He preached a revival in my home church in Elizabethton in 1964, when I was eleven years old.  I can’t actually say I became a Christian in that meeting, but maybe I did.  It’s about that time that I began consciously trusting Christ as Savior.  Bobby returned for repeated meetings at my home church, and he was much loved by my dad and mom – as he is by Katrina and me.

Well, at breakfast today we talked about the ups and downs of ministry.  He told of one time when he held a series of meetings with about 2000 people in attendance; then he got in his car and drove to another church where he found an audience of seven.  One of them was a five-year-old boy who kept running around the room playing Cowboys and Indians during the message.  Occasionally the boy would point and fire his popgun at Bobby.  Bobby finally paused in mid-sermon and said to the mother, “The next time your boy runs around in front of you, would you mind grabbing him and holding him still because I just can’t compete with him.”  The mother was sorely offended.  She got up, grabbed her son, and stormed out of the meeting, slamming the door behind her. 

“And then I had a audience of five,” Bobby said laconically.

“On another occasion I was preaching at a youth camp on the crucifixion.  Suddenly a commotion broke out in the audience and interrupted my sermon.  There were screams.  Kids leaping over pews.  Turns out a black snake had fallen down from the rafters and landed among the girls.”  The snake was finally captured and removed, and Bobby finished his sermon.

“I’ve had all kinds of things happen during meetings,” he said, “but that’s the only time the devil himself dropped in on a sermon.”

WEBTV, Atlanta’s channel 2, posted  a story this week entitled “40 Things Every Southerner Ought to Do.”  Coming in at #16 was Roan Mountain.  “The Smokies have great vistas,” said the writer, “but what you’ll see from Roan Mountain, astride Tennessee and North Carolina, will top them all — especially if you visit in June when the rhododendrons are in bloom.”  I couldn’t have said it better.

PS – If you need a place to stay, check out Roan Mountain Bed and Breakfast .