Gates Hall Corner Office

            Theodor Seuss Geisel was the author of an extensive series of children’s books which were written under the pen name “Dr. Seuss.” When my children were growing up, Dr. Seuss books were everywhere in my house. I honestly think I can almost recite the entire book Green Eggs and Ham from memory. You remember “Sam, I am,” don’t you?

            One of my favorite Seuss books is entitled On Beyond Zebra!, and it was published in 1955. Although it may seem a little strange, I want to share part of the book with you this morning.

 

Said Conrad Cornelius o’Donald o’Dell,

My very young friend who is learning to spell:

“The ‘a’ is for ape. And the ‘b’ is for bear.

The ‘c’ is for camel. The ‘h’ is for hare.

The ‘m’ is for mouse. And the ‘r’ is for rat.

I know all the twenty-six letters like that…

…through to ‘z’ is for zebra. I know them all well.”

Said Conrad Cornelius o’Donald o’Dell.

“So now I know everything anyone knows

From beginning to end. From the start to the close.

Because ‘z’ is as far as the alphabet goes.”

Then he almost fell flat on his face on the floor

When I picked up the chalk and drew one letter more!

A letter he never had dreamed of before!

And I said, “You can stop, if you want, with the ‘z’

Because most people stop with the ‘z’

But not me.

In the places I go there are things that I see

That I never could spell if I stopped with the ‘z’.

I’m telling you this ‘cause you’re one of my friends.

My alphabet starts where your alphabet ends!

My alphabet starts with this letter called ‘yuzz’.

It’s the letter I use to spell yuzz-a-ma-tuzz.

You’ll be sort of surprised what there is to be found

Once you go beyond ‘z’ and start poking around!”

Then Dr. Seuss begins to write about nineteen other letters, like wum, fuddle, glikk, and my personal favorite: yekk.

This is how Dr. Seuss finishes his book:

The places I took him!

I tried hard to tell

Young Conrad Cornelius o’Donald o’Dell

A few brand-new wonderful words he might spell.

I led him around and I tried hard to show

There are things beyond ‘z’ that most people don’t know.

I took him past zebra. As far as I could.

And I think, perhaps, maybe I did him some good…

Because, finally, he said:

“This is really great stuff!

And I guess the old alphabet isn’t enough!”

Now the letters he uses are something to see!

Most people still stop at the ‘z’…

But not he!

            I think one of the points Dr. Seuss is making is that you and I need to be willing to explore new possibilities and opportunities. We need to push beyond the limits of our current knowledge and world view to find and see and delight in new discoveries and new knowledge. Think about it. Every great scientific breakthrough has happened because scientists and researchers were willing to push beyond the zebra of current understanding to new vistas of discovered truth and knowledge.

If you think about it, that’s part of the reason you are here at Wayland: to study, learn, grow and move beyond the zebra of yesterday’s world of ideas to a new and exciting world of broadened comprehension and expanded possibility. That is what a university education is all about.

But I think Dr. Seuss, a devout and practicing Lutheran all of his life, may be suggesting something else, too.

I believe he is also talking about the importance—the necessity, even—of faith. So often we are limited in our understanding to what we can see and taste and touch and hear. That is the world that ends with zebra.

Yet there is a whole other world which exists in creation. It is a world beyond zebra. It is the world of faith.

So is Archie Bunker right? He said: Faith is believin’ something nobody in their right mind would believe.

He may well be right…

The writer of Hebrews (11:1) in the New Testament described faith in this way: Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

From my perspective the writer’s main point is this: we can’t really touch or taste or see faith, but we know that it is real. We know that it is real because as we place faith in Christ, Jesus changes our lives forever.

That faith even shapes and changes the institutions we love—like Wayland Baptist University.

Permit me to illustrate.

It was faith that led Dr. James Henry Wayland, a circuit riding High Plains physician, to donate $10,000 and 25 acres of land for a Christian school in Plainview, Texas. That little school has become an educational family located in 14 geographical points on the map, including the nation of Kenya in Africa. Additionally, dozens of Wayland teaching points extend around the world. Our largest campus is now our virtual campus—students experiencing the faith-based teaching of Wayland over the internet as they explore and learn their academic disciplines. All because a simple man of faith was willing to travel on, beyond zebra, and make a gift which would birth a great university.

In the darkest and bleakest days of the depression, the bank in which Wayland had deposited its fall, 1932, tuition dollars closed and all the money was lost. It was faith that challenged faculty members like Blanda Woodward and many others to remain at Wayland and work without any guarantee of payment for their services. In fact, every faculty member except one chose to move beyond zebra into that special realm of faith and trust and commitment, and the university survived. All because folks were willing to walk by faith, and believe in Wayland.

It was faith that inspired President Bill Marshall to recommend to the board of trustees that Wayland welcome all students, whatever their race, to this university to pursue their education. The board courageously voted to accept Dr. Marshall’s proposal. This meant that Wayland Baptist University became an integrated college in 1951, years before the national civil rights act was approved by congress. We were the first liberal arts school in the states of the former confederate south to voluntarily welcome students of all races, including large numbers of international students from every corner of the globe. Today on our Texas campuses, minority students actually comprise about half of Wayland’s student body. All because Dr. Bill Marshall and all who have followed him: the trustee leadership, several administrations, and a long line of faculty and staff who have served over the past 60 years have believed with Marshall that every person is deserving of an opportunity to learn and grow and become all that God desires. When it comes to race, Wayland moved into a land beyond zebra many years ago. It’s still a great place to be.

Yet the story goes on and on.

It was faith that led us to become a pioneer in women’s athletics, to create a remedial training opportunity for core course requirements, and to develop external, military and online educational programs.

Faith led us to identify one person as our campus minister because we want our students to be challenged to move, spiritually speaking, beyond zebra.

Faith stirred us to start a Wayland Baptist University Missions Center. From the inception of the Center, this program has been designed not just to teach mission theory and practice, but to immerse participants in the work of the kingdom at locations all around the world. How God has blessed and continues to bless that effort.

Faith in God’s plans for our future has enabled us to begin new and dynamic academic programs and offerings, a student leadership program, football, a new men’s dorm. All have been initiated because Wayland is willing to move beyond zebra.

It will be faith that enables us to build a new Bible building and missions center and to expand our music and fine arts facilities.

The truth is, in the days and years to come, our dream will continue to be that faith will shape and empower all that we do as a Christian institution of higher learning. Our history has taught us that belief and trust are not just matters of what you see and taste and touch. Faith is really a matter of what God says to your heart about your place in His plan.

Please don’t misunderstand. Wayland hasn’t always done everything perfectly. But I do believe this school has sincerely sought to live out, as best as we can, that faith which birthed us—the faith of Dr. James Henry Wayland. It is that faith which defines who and what we are. It is the very DNA of our existence.

Faith has led Wayland to live beyond zebra. And to be honest, that is an exciting place to be.

But as I conclude this morning, I want to place a personal challenge before you, as individual students.

Don’t stop with the letter z. Don’t trust only the things you can see and taste and touch and hear. Move beyond discovered truth to encounter the revealed truth of Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Trust the voice of Christ. He’s calling you to a wonderful adventure in an unknown land—a land beyond zebra. It is a land of faith, not sight. It is a place where the love of Jesus intersects the need of all humanity. It is where you and I have been challenged to serve in the world by the One who created this world.

My prayer for you is that you’ll never be satisfied with just 26 letters in the alphabet. My hope for you is that you’ll move past ‘z’ to find the purpose and plan and power of Christ for your life. I hope you’ll embrace the Christian adventure by moving on, beyond zebra! It’s not always easy, but it is the most fun you can have in life…

Grace and peace to each of you in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.

 

One of my very favorite Christmas stories was told by a writer named Dina Donahue many years ago. It is about a boy named Wally.

For years now whenever Christmas pageants are talked about in a certain little town in the Midwest, someone is sure to mention the name of Wallace Purling. Wally’s performance in one annual production of the nativity play has slipped into the realm of legend. But the old timers who were in the audience that night never tire of recalling exactly what happened.

Wally was nine that year and in the second grade, though he should have been in the fourth. Most people in the town knew that he had difficulty in keeping up. He was big and clumsy, slow in movement and mind. Still, his class, all of whom were smaller than he, had trouble hiding their irritation when Wally would ask to play ball with them or any game, for that matter, in which winning was important.

Most often they’d find a way to keep him out, but Wally would hang around anyway – not sulking, just hoping. He was always a helpful boy, a willing and smiling one, and the natural protector, paradoxically, of the underdog. Sometimes if the older boys chased the younger ones away, it would always be Wally who’d say, “Can’t they stay? They’re no bother.”

Wally fancied the idea of being a shepherd with a flute in the Christmas pageant that year, but the play’s director, Miss Lumbar, assigned him to a more important role. After all, she reasoned, the Innkeeper did not have too many lines, and Wally’s size would make his refusal of lodging to Joseph more forceful.

And so it happened that the usual large, partisan audience gathered for the town’s yearly extravaganza of beard, crown, halos and a whole stage full of squeaky voices. No one on stage or off was more caught up in the magic of the night than Wallace Purling. They said later that he stood in the wings and watched the performance with such fascination that from time to time Miss Lumbar had to make sure he did not wander onstage before his cue.

Then the time came when Joseph appeared, slowly, tenderly guiding Mary to the door of the inn. Joseph knocked hard on the wooden door set into the painted backdrop. Wally the Innkeeper was there, waiting.

“What do you want?” Wally said, swinging the door open with a brusque gesture.

“We seek lodging.”

“Seek it elsewhere.” Wally looked straight ahead, but spoke vigorously. “The inn is filled.”

“Sir, we have asked everywhere in vain. We have traveled far and we are very weary.”

“There is no room in this inn for you.” Wally looked properly stern.

“Please good innkeeper, this is my wife Mary. She is heavy with child and needs a place to rest. Surely you must have some small corner for her. She is so tired.”

Now for the first time, the Innkeeper relaxed his stiff stance and looked down at Mary. With that, there was a long pause, long enough to make the audience a bit tense with embarrassment.

“No! Be gone!” the prompter whispered from the wings.

“No!” Wally repeated automatically. “Be gone!”

Joseph sadly placed his arm around Mary, and Mary laid her head upon her husband’s shoulder and the two of them started to move away. The Innkeeper did not return inside the inn, however. Wally stood there in the doorway watching the forlorn couple. His mouth was open, his brow creased with concern, and his eyes filling unmistakably with tears.

And suddenly this Christmas pageant became different from all others.

“Don’t go Joseph,” Wally called out. “Bring Mary back.” And Wallace Purling’s face grew into a bright smile. “You can have my room.”

Some people in town thought that the pageant had been ruined. Yet there were others- many, many others- who considered it the most Christmas of all Christmas pageants that they had ever seen.

So what about you and now? Will you let the Spirit of Christmas touch your heart this year, just like it touched Wally’s many years ago?

I really do hope so!

Grace and PEACE…

1 can of Eagle Brand sweetened condensed milk

1/2 to 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract

1 cup chopped pecans

Ritz crackers

Mix the Eagle Brand, vanilla and pecans in a saucepan and cook over medium heat until the mixture is thickened. Go slowly because the milk will scorch easily. When the mixture is thick, remove from heat. Spread about a tablespoon of the mixture on (what Duanea calls) the “pretty” side of a Ritz cracker. Put the smacks on an ungreased cookie sheet and bake in a 325-350 degree oven until the mixture begins to brown on the top. Remove and allow to cool and then enjoy!

Personal note: when I was young, my siblings and I used to fight over who would get to lick the lid of the Eagle Brand can. If you do the same, please be careful of the sharp edge of the lid. Trust me on this, that edge can do some damage…

I love this season of the year! Between George Winston’s “December”, the Robert Shaw Chorale’s concert album and Mannheim Steamroller’s Christmas CDs, it seems I never stop listening to music.

Have you noticed that Christmas seems to come sooner now then when you were younger? (To digress, I actually have a theory about that… When I was five years old, the year between Christmases was 1/5 of my life’s span. Now, a year is only 1/62nd of my journey. Reminds me of Job’s observation, “My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle…”)

During my childhood, this season of the year was a really big event at our house.

I had the hardest time waiting for the purchase of our Christmas tree. It was always fresh, never artificial. My favorite part was untangling the strands of lights. Then, I had to fugure out which single bulb was burned out thereby making the entire set useless.

The food was wonderful. Corsicana fruit cakes (which for our family were actually more like door stops and future sewing accessories containers); Irma Atherton’s wonderful garlic cheese roll (which was covered with chili powder and sliced very carefully to fit precisely on a Ritz cracker); the smell of celery and onion sauteing in a stick of melted Parkay as Mom prepared to cook the sage cornbread dressing for dinner; spiced tea (actually, more orange and grapefruit juice than tea); and a wonderful invention called “smacks” (recipe to follow soon).

I remember the great churches at which my father and mother served as pastor and wife.

There was the old Polytechnic Baptist Church at Avenue E and Binkley in Fort Worth. In my first pageant, I played the part of Joseph wearing Dad’s maroon bath robe and a towel over my head so that I resembled a desert bedouin. We always measured our Lottie Moon offering gifts at Poly using a large number of Christmas lights in the shape of a star or a cross or an angel. Seems like we met our goal every year. I can still go to the room which was the pastor’s office in that building (now owned and used by Texas Wesleyan University) and see the spot at which Dad and I knelt to pray as I asked Christ to come into my heart and to save me. For fifteen years my family served our Lord Jesus in the eastern part of Fort Worth.

There was also the wonderful First Baptist Church in El Paso, Texas, at which we served for almost five years. I remember the star on Mt. Franklin at Christmas time; luminarias; and Griggs Mexican food. Mostly, I remember a mission-minded church loving and nurturing me through adolescence.

More than anything else about this season, however, I remember the Spirit of Christmas. Something special was in the air. It wasn’t as much about presents or food as it was about relationships and the Baby in a manger. It was all about the joy of His coming.

I have always loved Joseph Fort Newton’s article in the December, 1925, issue of the Atlantic Monthly magazine. Dr. Newton begins the piece with these words:

Only God could have thought of Christmas. Its beauty is beyond the wit of mortals, so simple in its sublimity, so homey, yet so heavenly. On a tapestry woven of stable straw and starlight it unveils a picture to soften and purify the heart and to bring us back from a wisdom that is not wise, because it is hard, unholy, and unhopeful.

Sometimes, at this season of the year, I become a little afraid. I begin to wonder if we’ve lost the melody of Christmas in the busy-ness, noise and violence of our modern world. Does it seem that we tell the Christmas story (almost) like a familiar fairy tale for children, sweet in its expression but meaningless in terms of the depth and breadth of its impact? I am haunted by the fact that we seem to treat the story of the Incarnation with a kind of polite and familiar indifference which must, in truth, break the very heart of God. Newton says it well in the concluding paragraphs of his article:

Over an armed camp, in a hard old Roman world, the song of the angels rang out, proclaiming “Peace on earth among men of good will.” How far off it must have seemed on that night! How far off it seems today! Yet it will come true. It is not a myth; it is not a mockery. Surviving ages of slaughter, it still haunts us, proving its immortality. It is not a mortal melody, but a divine symphony…It is a song out of the heart of God for a hungry world.

My prayer for you is that during this holiday season, you will hear the song of the Christ child more clearly than ever before. May His joy be real to you!

Grace and peace…

Life takes some interesting turns, doesn’t it?

I want to apologize for the length of the interval since my last post.

On Saturday, August 27th, I was riding my road bike in Plainview when I threw a chain and took a fall. My right femur was broken by the fall. It was a clean fracture–no dislocation. On Sunday, August 28th, four titanium pins were placed in the femur to stabilize my leg and allow healing of the break. Eventually, the pins will be removed. My rehab has consisted of not putting any weight on my right leg, largely through the use of a walker. This is the first week I have returned to my office on a part-time basis since my accident.

I am by nature an active man. My responsibilities dictate that I travel a great deal. When I wake up every morning, I never wonder about whether or not I’ll have enough to do that day. That is part of the joy and satisfaction of my position at WBU. I have missed being in my office, meeting with those folks who are partners in the grand adventure that is Wayland Baptist University and, yes, I even miss the travel which takes me to the places at which the friends of this university live.

But I have learned some things over these last six weeks…

No one is absolutely indispensible. The administrative staff, support staff and faculty of the university have done a wonderful job of teaching a record number of students at both our home campus and our external campus locations over this last couple of months. A sincere word of thanks to my Cabinet: Dr. Bobby Hall, Executive Vice President and Provost; Vice Presidents Drs. Claude Lusk and Elane Seebo; and our CFO Mr. Jim Smith. Finally, a special expression of gratitude to my incredible assistants, Mrs. Carolyn Andrews and Mrs. Tommie Quebe who have ferried work and documents to my house and back many, many times.

The support and encouragement of my Board of Trustees, staff, faculty, friends and family has been phenomenal. Thanks for your calls, cards, flowers, food, humor, and obviously evident love. By the way, I was only moderately offended by those of you who asked if my fall was from a stationary bike!!

Although I will be in trouble for this, I also must thank my beautiful wife, Duanea, for her unfailing energy, cheer, brightness, generosity and love. Those of you who know me really well will probably know that I am not very good at convalescing. Duanea has been a never-ending source of patience, grace, laughter and prayer. In the midst of this, I can honestly say that she and I have enjoyed the time we’ve been able to spend together these last weeks. We are both so busy, it has been good to look into each others’ eyes for a time to talk and dream and pray. I have been blessed with a wonderful partner, friend and bride!

Our Lord’s hand has been so evident through these days of recovery. In a new and special way, I have felt His presence…especially through the words and acts of you, my friends and my family.

Thank you.

Grace and peace…

This beautiful letter came earlier this year, and I have received Sandy’s permission to share it with you.

Dr. Armes,

I have had the honor of being a Wayland parent for the past four years. I am a published author, but I cannot find words to express my gratitude to the Lord for allowing my daughter to attend your fine school.

My husband and I were the first ones in our families to graduate from college. We’ve never taken education for granted. My husband is the son of a preacher. I attended Tim LaHaye’s Christian schools throughout my childhood. I earned my Bachelor’s and my husband earned his Master’s from the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor. We’ve never taken Christian education for granted.

Only God knows the extent of our own struggles down through the years. By His grace, we have risen above those struggles to soon see our daughter walk down the aisle at graduation, and not long after that, at her wedding as she marries a Wayland graduate.

I’ll never forget when my daughter and four of her friends piled into her tiny car and made the three-hour drive home from Wayland. It was like watching clowns drive into a circus when they arrived! I didn’t think the shattered pieces of my heart could ever be mended from the anguish of empty nest, but as God let those girls fill our home with laughter that weekend, He assured me that He was surrounding our girl with friends who would encourage her Christian walk.

My daughter has probably made your faculty and staff shake their heads and sigh. I understand. She put an un-popped kernel of popcorn up her nose at age three as I read her The Popcorn Dragon. In this book, a dragon sleeps in a cornfield and awakens to discover that he’s made popcorn with the hot steam from his nose. I didn’t realize what had happened until a doctor brought the popcorn to my attention, and my little girl confessed that she just wanted to be like the dragon.

My daughter is the child you take on a family trip to the Grand Canyon and, as you all stand there speechless and take in the majestic view, she exclaims with utter disappointment, “It’s nothing but a big hole in the ground!”

She is the child you leave at home with big brother because you think the kids are old enough to leave alone while you have a short date night with your spouse. When you return, you find the police at your door because your daughter called 9-1-1. When you ask her why she would do such a thing, she confesses that she started a fight, brother ran after her, so she called the police. You hold your face as you sigh and shake your head. You feel that your cheeks are hot from embarrassment. You remind her to only call 9-1-1 when there is a real emergency, discuss what that means, apologize profusely to the officer, go in, shut the door, and close the blinds so you won’t see the neighbors staring from their porches.

As I was battling laryngitis and trying to get my daughter ready for daycare one morning, she asked what was wrong with my talking. When I told her I lost my voice, she huffed and said, “Come on. Let’s see if we can find it. How many times have I told you to keep up with your things?”

My daughter is the student who traveled with your faculty to Ecuador. Volcanoes blanketed by clouds, jungles clothed with forest green vegetation, mountains tall enough to touch the South American sky, and waterfalls cascading down the Andes stole my daughter’s breath. In those moments, she was speechless.

Nothing has been more precious than to know that my daughter’s teachers and friends were praying for her. I must have cried off every drop of makeup as she sang The Revelation Song at the Miss Wayland pageant, as she helped lead worship at Stonebridge, and as she shared her Rec team experiences with me. Even at her job on campus, people were constantly encouraging her faith. A parent can ask for no more than that.

Last night, my daughter called to tell me she had passed her last exam for teacher certification. God provided splendid opportunities, both spiritually and academically, to prepare her for the next phase of her life. For that, I am truly thankful.

Thus in August, if you should have students who make you shake your head and sigh, remember my daughter and smile. About the time you cringe at the thought of what might come out of their mouths next, they’re probably the same students who will leave there speechless.

Sincerely,

Sandy Haney

The Checklist Manifesto: How to Get Things Right by Atul Gawande

Dr. Gawande writes about the importance of knowing and embracing the basics of life. The tool he describes and uses is a checklist. For example, implementing a checklist in the intricate and complex world of surgery reduced deaths and complications by more than one-third in eight hospitals around the world. I’m not very far into the book, but it is an interesting read and a reminder of the fact that there is no substitute for the basic elements of life. For believers the implications are, perhaps, profound.

DIY U: edupunks, Edupreneurs, and the Coming Transformation of Higher Education by Anya Kamenetz.

This particular book is being widely discussed in the university world. The basic premise of the author is that the higher education system as we know it is coming to an end. Students will increasingly turn to specialization in education (a few subject specific courses) and then to self-promotion in terms of personal experience to “sell” themselves to employers. Many of us in traditional, liberal arts educational institutions find much to concern us in Kamenetz’s premise. I honestly don’t believe the idea of a well-rounded university student who develops compelling critical thinking skills across a wide variety of subjects is dead just yet.

Just received but not read: Cultivating the Spirit: How College Can Enhance Students’ Innter Lives by Alexander W. Astin, Helen S. Astin, and Jennifer A. Lindholm

The book fascinated me because it purports to focus on the development of students’ spiritual qualities.

Grace and peace…