Does it take American Idol to make us realize have blessed we are as a nation? We found out last week that AIDS is not the big killer in Africa but malaria. And malaria is so very conquerable! Just a mosquito net, some clean water, and a few inexpensive pills and malaria would be history. Right now one child dies every 30 seconds from malaria in Africa. The best preventive is long-lasting insecticide-treated bed net that cost less than $10. It could work for the whole family.

I now have been immersed in the church culture of Fayette County since 1989, that’s 18 years, preaching upwards to 1,000 messages, conducting weddings, funerals, counseling hundreds of families and married couples. It’s been a ride. At times I wanted to get off, badly. But God called me to this enterprise of telling out the Gospel and he won’t let me do anything else.

I wish I could take back a couple thousand times when I used the word “spiritual” in a positive setting. To me now it is probably one of the most abused words in the language of faith. “Oh, he’s a very spiritual man.” Or, “Our pastor is real spiritual,” or “Our church is spiritual.”

Many years ago founding pastor Chuck Smith of Calvary Chapel in Costa Mesa, Calif. accepted my invitation to speak at our Christian school. Before chapel time, he and I had opportunity to exchange war stories. But in those few moments he shared with me a truck-load full of church wisdom in response to my question as to their phenomenal success.

Two days away will be Good Friday. Never have understood why we will ever remember the day as good. Friday of Holy Week was not TGIF but OHIF (Oh Hell, it’s Friday). It was not pretty at all that final Friday of our Lord’s earthly life. It started ugly and ended ugly.

Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Isaac being the critical link. Remember he was the young man his father, Abraham, was about to sacrifice on the mount where present day Jerusalem stands. The angel of the Lord stayed the hand of Abraham and preserved the young man’s life. God did this horrific test to determine if Abraham truly would not let anything come between their relationship, not even his one and only son. Sounds like the passion of Christ, doesn’t it?

Too often our young people — especially teenagers — correlate matters of faith with some of the most boring subjects in all the land. I see them enter the front doors of the church and immediately dress their countenance with this “doesn’t matter in a hill of beans” look.

Beware! Always beware. That’s the counsel some soothsayer gave Julius Caesar in regard to the coming Ides of March. Well, Caesar didn’t watch all sides and didn’t “beware” enough. March 15 — which we observe tomorrow — Julius Caesar was assassinated by Roman Senators Brutus and Cassius (Remember, “Et tu, Brute?”). It was the year 44 BC. That March 15, 44 BC was our Nov. 22, 1963.

Dateline Enterprise, Alabama: the most powerful man in the world, President George W. Bush, tours the devastation in the aftermath of a deadly tornado that flattens a high school and takes precious young lives.

During the recent state funeral for President Gerald Ford, someone observed that the great outpouring of gratitude and grief reflected a nation atoning for its errors of criticism and cynicism of the former president especially in pardoning Richard Nixon. Even Senator Edward Kennedy who had denigrated Ford for his pardon took to the Senate floor to say Ford was right and he was wrong.

There’s a new word among church circles and the word is “simple.” Church specialists and experts are imploring church leaders to apply the KISS method when it comes to doing church: Keep It Simple Stupid.

Happy Valentine’s Day. It’s a day that tells it like no other. Americans will spend $12 billion on Valentine’s Day 2007. Ninety-two percent of the population will participate in one way or the other in making up that $12 billion. Thirty-six million boxes of candy will be bought and given for that one day out of 365.

When you write a letter in response to one of my columns, I sit and think about it more than you think. This past week I received a very sincere letter from someone who reproved me for seeming inaccuracies in columns of the last two weeks concerning the Sabbath.

Jesus sought to make things simple. In his day, one of the most complex things was the Sabbath. Religious insiders worked day and night churning out new rules and regulations concerning the Sabbath. The big issue concerned the definition of work because work was prohibited.

Americans need rest and we are not getting it. God knew a long time ago that we needed rest more than we need respect. So, he shut down on the seventh day and insisted that his creation do the same. Today, neither rest nor the Sabbath gets respect.

What should happen to this gang war in New York City? No matter that these gangs are worth millions and have access to daily national and international media outlets. The Trumps control America’s time and for those who travel to their casinos, they control their money and entertainment. The other gang, The O’Donnells is a female dominated gang and they seem to be willing to get into a street fight at the drop of a “do” — that’s Donald’s do (is all that hair his).

As we ministers walk through our parish lives, sometimes we run into something that just takes our breath, stirs us to a new God consciousness, and leaves us feeling blessed that we were called into such a life work.

The year “seven” rhymes with “heaven.” If you want to have a heavenly year, take the advice of the Apostle Paul who instructed us “to speak the truth in love.” That’s my New Year’s Resolution and hopefully for every year thereafter.

We are the Bible belt. Been known for that a long time. Since about 1920 when journalist H. L. Mencken coined the praise to characterize our regional emphasis on the Bible and its importance to daily life.

God’s special envoy told Joseph, “They shall call him Emmanuel, meaning ‘God is with us.’” From that birth onward — the birth of Jesus — there has been no doubt, only proclamation, that we are not alone on this planet. God is with us!

We dream of a white Christmas. Santa’s outfit must be red and white. The wise men gave gifts including gold. We want to hear those silver bells. But the color that stands out the most and gives the most is green. It’s the only color that we not only can see but also can smell. Take a deep breath the next time you walk by your green Christmas tree.

In last week’s column, I asked my fellow Christians not to have a heart attack if some department store employee wished them a “Happy Holiday” rather than a “Merry Christmas” because we all know from where the cha-ching of the cash registers comes: the birth of Jesus Christ.

This year the calendar allows for the first Sunday in December to be the first Sunday in Advent, the church’s official celebration of the birth of Jesus and the church’s anticipatory reflection of the coming again of Jesus — that time which will be the culmination of time and history, according to Christian doctrine.

Thanksgiving 1963 was no fun. No amount of turkey and pumpkin pie could remove the deep, down empty feeling many people felt, especially me, after the assassination of President John Kennedy. He was gunned down on Friday, Nov. 22, while parading through Dallas, Texas on a motorcade.

My home church, Bethel Baptist Church, located on the outskirts of Columbus, (Midland, Ga.), always observed Thanksgiving the Wednesday before with a home-cooked pot-luck supper. No, Kentucky Fried Chicken for these women.

I read recently that one of the most favored secular Christmas songs, “Jingle Bells,” is actually a Thanksgiving song. If you sing it through, you’ll find no reference to Christmas. It was composed to be sung for a Thanksgiving program in 1857 at a Savannah, Ga., church. Today it’s recognized as one of the most popular songs in the world. Children and adults from around the world love to sing “Jingle Bells” and it all started in Georgia.

We were taking in lunch with family at the Bulloch House in Warm Springs recently. Out in their well-appointed yard, there was a busy bubble machine, spinning out hundreds of bubbles to the delight of customers. Someone in our group said she felt like she was on the Lawrence Welk Show (he was known for his champagne music with accompanying bubbles).

Seasonal change reinforces my belief in God. I dearly love the fall of the year. From the end of April to the crisp mornings of fall, it seems I wait. There is a season for all of us. The bomber is to believe life without seasons.

You don’t want to read it, so just throw the paper down. Trash it. Try never to remember the concept again: Clergy Appreciation Month. That’s the month of October. After all, “they” only work about two days a week. When they preach, they use Rick Warren’s, Andy Stanley’s, or Joel Osteen’s messages. They rarely pop in the hospital when someone in your family is critically ill. So, why? Why set aside a whole month to recognize the holy estate of ministry?

Clean Congress! Clean the Executive Branch. Clean the Judicial Branch. When adequate light is focused on each branch, I am sure no branch will be found clean. Young people who serve powerful men and women have always been subject to personal whims of the same powerful.