“Baptists can be patriots. Now I know that seems to some of you like a silly statement, considering that in some Baptist churches today – I promise you – there will be enormous American flags draped across the pipes of the organ and probably across . . . a cross that normally would stand back there as uh, well, as churches give no second thought to what that might mean – even Baptist churches.”
Thus began George Mason, on July 4, 2004 – 20 years ago today – in delivering his sermon, “The Cross and the Flag,” as senior pastor of Wilshire Baptist Church in Dallas, Texas.
In this post, I want to tell you a little bit about that sermon, but I also want to relate a little of the path that Joanna and I took on our journey to membership in Wilshire Baptist Church that summer – a church that has been a rich blessing in our lives. Joanna’s cremains are now inurned in Wilshire’s Columbarium, and mine will join hers one day.
So please, read on.
It was almost as if George could read our minds, for Joanna and I were coming from just such a church as he described. Our church in Plano, a Dallas suburb, where we had been members since the fall of 1987, had built a new sanctuary in 2001. It featured, on a level above the pulpit and choir loft, a beautiful floor-to-ceiling stained-glass window that highlighted Jesus at the center.
However, on patriotic weekends – featuring the pomp and circumstance of military marches, etc. – Jesus was nowhere to be seen, because that stained-glass window was covered by a floor-to-ceiling American flag.
Let that sink in for just a moment – the image of Jesus, as well as all the surrounding images that point to Jesus – hidden, covered by an American flag! Sadly, that was a metaphor for the services that took place on those Sundays. America first, Jesus . . . not even second, but hidden away.
George Mason had never been in that church, yet he knew its character as well as we did.
It was our first visit to Wilshire. After many years of fighting the “Baptist battles” at that Plano church and seeing our efforts come to nothing as that church continually slid down the slippery slope toward fundamentalism, we had decided it was time to go.
Over the previous 3 or 4 years, I had found understanding ears and encouraging voices in Phil Strickland and Suzii Paynter, leaders of the Texas Baptist Christian Life Commission (CLC). In May, I had attended the annual CLC conference at Trinity Baptist Church in San Antonio. Phil Strickland had invited three speakers to keynote the event. One was his own pastor, George Mason.
As I heard George speak for the first time, I was amazed – I had no idea that there was such a pastor in the Dallas area! I nudged my friend, Dan Williams (then president of the Texas Baptist Laity Institute), and whispered, “Is he always this good?” Dan nodded.
During a break that day, I was in conversation with my friend David Currie (then executive director of Texas Baptists Committed) when George Mason came over, offered his hand, and said simply, “Hi. I’m George.” That was my modest introduction to George Mason. Later that day, I told George about my frustrations with the church in Plano, that my wife and I had decided it was finally time to leave, and that we would be looking for a new church home. George replied, “Well, we’re right down the road from you.”
That evening, I called Joanna, who was back home in Plano. She knew that one of the greatest influences in my life had been Jerry Barnes, pastor of University Baptist Church in Shawnee, across from the Oklahoma Baptist University (OBU) campus, who had helped me work through my deep struggle with matters of faith during the early 1970s when I was an OBU student.
I told Joanna, “For almost 30 years, I’ve been looking for another Jerry Barnes. I think I may have finally found him in George Mason. We’re going to have to visit Wilshire Baptist Church.” What I meant by “another Jerry Barnes” was a pastor who would challenge me to dig deep into scripture for meanings beyond the simplistic interpretations that I had heard in churches most of my life.
Joanna and I had grown weary of seeing patriotic celebrations and military marches take the place of worshiping God on those patriotic holiday weekends. On Memorial Day weekend, we visited Park Cities Baptist Church, where my friend Jim Denison was pastor. It was a refreshing change – only a brief recognition of those who had served in the military, but no pomp and circumstance, no flag-waving, etc.
On the second Sunday in June, our mixed choral ensemble – in which I served as both a singer and the director – sang in worship for the final time before taking our customary summer break. The next day, I went in to speak with the music minister – who had become my closest friend in that church – to tell him that Joanna and I had attended our last service there and would be looking for a new church home. I don’t think he was terribly surprised – I had shared my frustrations many times in conversation with him.
As Joanna and I drove to Wilshire on July 4, she said, “I’m not sure I want to drive a half-hour to church every week.” Then she met George and heard him preach on “The Cross and the Flag.” After the service, we hadn’t even made it back to our car when Joanna said, “I want to come back here!”
We took some time, not wanting to make a hasty or impulsive decision, even visiting another church – First Baptist, Richardson (which, incidentally, had baptized me in April 1961 – two buildings ago), where Dan Williams’s wife, Anita, was director of the Sunday School department we visited.
We also visited Wilshire several more times, including on a couple of Sunday evenings in Fellowship Hall, where we heard (1) George explain why the then-popular “Left Behind” book & movie series was bad theology; and (2) George entertain questions from the gathering – for an hour-and-a-half – on any subject, no holds barred. These evenings helped us learn even more about the people of Wilshire Baptist Church and their pastor.
On August 29, as Wilshire was celebrating George’s 15th anniversary as senior pastor, Joanna and I walked the aisle, asking to join this fellowship that already felt like home to us. Our dear friend, Phil Strickland, who had been instrumental in our finding Wilshire, was on the chancel that morning to make a presentation to George. When he saw us walking down that aisle, he just beamed. He had been “lobbying” (he did a lot of that with the Texas legislature in his role with CLC) for us to join Wilshire, and he was excited to see us do just that.
So back to George’s sermon, “The Cross and the Flag.” George gave an entirely different perspective to the relationship between Christians (and specifically Baptists) and patriotism than we had seen exhibited at our church in Plano. He gave a perspective that put Jesus first, not the flag. He reminded us of the historic Baptist commitment to separation of church and state, whereas our church in Plano had sought political power for Christians (or, to be honest, for their brand of Christians).
Listen to George Mason: “Baptists have made our first priority the kingdom of God rather than the kingdoms of this world. We have held the cross higher than the flag, in order to symbolize our highest loyalty being to Christ.”
He goes on to say, “And yet, here we are on the Fourth of July, and we live in America, and we do celebrate it as the greatest expression of a form of government that allows for a radical commitment to Jesus Christ and even a critical attitude toward government that is civil.”
George also gives a more faithfully Christian perspective (in my humble opinion, anyway) than the often militaristic and triumphal ones traditionally applied to some favorite patriotic hymns.
To say that this sermon was a refreshing balm to our souls (Joanna’s and mine) would be a drastic understatement. Moses had spent 40 years wandering in the desert. Joanna and I had spent 17 years in a desert of our own, and we were thirsty for the living water we found at Wilshire Baptist Church that July 4th morning – a church that believed that even one occasional patriotic holiday was one Sunday too much to substitute nationalistic pride for the worship of God in God’s house.
Back in those days, there was no video recording of Wilshire services, but audio was recorded and placed on the Wilshire website. I was so hungry for this kind of preaching that I downloaded many of the services – not only George’s sermons but those of our pastoral residents and others – and put them onto CDs so that I could listen to them in the car, especially on long trips. A few years ago, I came across the CD of this July 4, 2004, service. With George’s permission, I uploaded his sermon, “The Cross and the Flag,” to SoundCloud and posted it to social media for others to enjoy.
I hope my meager description of it has whetted your appetite to hear the whole sermon. Click here to listen to “The Cross and the Flag.”
It’s well worth the next 20 minutes or so of your life to hear this special sermon, especially today on July 4, 2024, 20 years to the day after it was delivered. (When you get to the singing of the hymns, be sure to keep listening. The hymns are part of the sermon, and George will be back after the hymn.)