By BISHOP ROBERT HAYES JR.

In its era, Antioch was the third largest city, exceeded only by Rome and Alexandria. Its geographic location made it a major military and economic trade center, supplying spices and silk, among other items, to an emerging cosmopolitan population. The city itself claimed two names, "Queen of the East" and "The Cradle of Christianity."

Historians believe that, at some point, more than half-a-million people resided there, from all over the known world. That mixture of people became both the greatest strength and the greatest weakness for Antioch.

By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

That Tuesday started like most of my days — packed to the brim with things to do. On this particular Tuesday, the Cabinet was assembled for the purpose of making appointments, and all indications seemed to predict eight hours of focused, concentrated energy.

We entered into a time of worship, as we always do, before we began our work. As always, I reminded everyone to silence cellphones so that complete attention was given to the devotional leader. Hymns and prayers set the tone for our time together, followed by a brief sermon.

By BISHOP ROBERT HAYES JR.

A few years ago my wife and I headed to North Carolina to attend a meeting of the denomination’s Council of Bishops. We flew from Oklahoma City to Cincinnati, Ohio, where we connected with our flight to Asheville, N.C. Our trip was uneventful until we were preparing to land at our final destination.

The captain of the aircraft made this startling announcement: "Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to inform you that our landing gear will not deploy! We will be forced to return to Cincinnati, to make an emergency landing. The flight attendant will instruct you on how to brace yourself in the crash position before we land!"

By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

Incentives and rewards drive so much of our culture. They motivate people to do something.

Parents tell children that if they are "nice" boys and girls, they will receive something good in return. And sure enough, after sitting quietly in church or behaving well in the presence of important people, a piece of candy or some delicious treat will be waiting for the child.

When I was a child, the time came when I SOLD my good deeds just so I could reap that reward.

By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

I view the 40 days from Ash Wednesday to Holy Week as the most important days in a year’s cycle for all Christians. I call this period the "holy journey," a time that begins with the focus on us, but finds its ending with Christ. Ultimately, it’s a pilgrimage that ends with ourselves in Christ!

Or does it? We’ve been down this road so many times. Have we forgotten the real purpose of Lent?

By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

A couple of months ago, I got my first opportunity to visit the new 52-story Devon Tower, the tallest building in our state. As far as 20 miles from downtown Oklahoma City, you can see this massive steel-and-glass structure rising there. Close upon it, everything near it seems miniature.

My reason for going to the tower was to conduct a wedding. Instead of nuptials in a quiet church sanctuary, the ceremony was on the skyscraper’s 50th floor! You need to know, when it comes to heights, my knees get shaky; my courage takes a vacation when I am more than 10 feet above the ground. But this was for a very dear friend, so I determined to struggle through my fear.

By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

Every year businesses of every size and description conduct what is commonly called inventory. People who have been assigned this task will tell you that the complete cataloging of all materials is a painstaking process.

In these first days of the new year, consider that word inventory from a Christian perspective. When I did, I quickly concluded that businesses find value in identifying the aggregate worth of their goods — and their process provides a model for you and me. Should there not also be a "spiritual inventory" that details what we own in relationship to God and our faith?

Surely the beginning of a year invites us to take stock of our beliefs and make a declaration of the importance of God in our lives!

By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

President Abraham Lincoln is given credit for telling the charming story of a little girl who received some wooden alphabet blocks for Christmas. She liked them so much that she took them to bed with her on Christmas night and played with them until she was very sleepy. Then she remembered she hadn’t said her evening prayers.

Barely awake, she knelt beside her bed and prayed, "Oh, Lord, I’m much too sleepy to pray, but here are the letters. Could you please spell it out for yourself?"

By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

In the 1630s, Martin Rinkart found himself the only surviving minister in Eilenburg, Saxony, as the Thirty Years’ War convulsed Europe. This bloody conflict had ravaged most of the continent as Germany, France, Sweden, Denmark, and England fought against the unity of the Holy Roman Empire and the House of Hapsburg, which was ruled by Spain.

Millions of people were affected by the fighting. Huge numbers of refugees flocked to the walled city of Eilenberg, hoping the walls would protect them. But the city itself was overrun — by Swedes, then Austrians, then again by the Swedes.

 By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

The master said no when his servants wanted to pull the weeds sown by an enemy in the master’s field, weeds growing intermingled with the good crop.

How he responded to the servants’ question deserves attention. The master knew the weeds at that stage would look exactly like the wheat. He said, "Let the wheat and the weeds grow together until harvest." He knew time would eventually distinguish the wheat from the weeds.

Time. Time will tell.

By BISHOP ROBERT HAYES JR.

More than 50 years ago, President John Kennedy uttered these words in his inauguration speech: "My fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country." That single line changed the way that an entire generation viewed itself, the nation, and the world. Consequently, hundreds of thousands of people, young and old, began volunteering for the Peace Corps and other newly created social programs designed to make the world a better place.

"Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But whoever looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues in it—not forgetting what they have heard, but doing it—they will be blessed in what they do."

(James 1:23-25, NIV)

By Bishop Robert Hayes

Most of us at some time have stood before a mirror and uttered a few words. I have no statistics to back up my belief that this is commonplace, but I do feel that a solid majority of people don’t think twice about talking to their reflections.

So I’ve decided to pass on "Bob’s Rules for Mirror Conversations."

"We need to be energetically at work for the One who sent me here, working while the sun shines. When night falls, the workday is over. For as long as I am in the world, there is plenty of light. I am the world’s Light."

(John 9:4-5, The Message)

By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

English novelist Charles Dickens wrote this famous line about the dark days in France just prior to the French Revolution: "It was the best of times; it was the worst of times."

 By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

Even now I can close my eyes and again hear my mother, Dorothy, singing this hymn as tears of joy roll down her cheeks. It’s that kind of a song. Eight years of memories as your bishop recently have flooded my soul and, just like my mother, I am moved to tears as I recall the journey that has brought me to today.

In the July 23, 2004, Contact, published right after my election to the episcopacy, the front-page headline boldly proclaimed: "Bishop Hayes assigned to Oklahoma Area." In the next issue, the top headline announced, "Statewide gathering welcomes Bishop Hayes." And in a November edition that year, the front page reported my enthusiastic proclamation that being in Oklahoma "feels like home."

(Acts 2:14-17)

By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

The scene is Jerusalem; the year, approximately 30 A.D. Fifty days have passed since the death and resurrection of Jesus. The disciples who followed our Lord for three years gather in the morning with a fellowship of believers who have been commanded to wait in the Holy City for a "gift from God."

By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

When I crossed the Red River in September 2004, coming from Texas to assume my duties as the episcopal leader of the Oklahoma Area, I realized I was turning a page in the book of my life to a new chapter. I clearly was leaving behind that which was so familiar and venturing into the unknown, facing a new job, preparing to encounter people I did not know.

Now in 2012 comes another challenge, another unknown, which I want to share today with you. On Good Friday, I was diagnosed with prostate cancer.

I am only one of thousands of men every day who hear those same two words. Hearing that diagnosis can be frightening, yet today’s medical advances make it possible not only to manage the disease, but also to cure it.

By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

The Easter lilies that adorned the altars and pulpits of our decorated sanctuaries have been removed and taken home. All the brightly colored eggs that littered the church grounds, some tucked under rocks and into tall grass, have been found. (At least, we hope so!) The soaring special music is only memory. The people whose presence swelled the worship attendance in our churches on Easter Sunday likely have returned to what they were doing the week before Easter.

By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

There was little left to do that Friday afternoon. The last criminal took less time to die than most, so the soldiers began to pack their simple tools—the hammer, sword, and their spikes—and prepared to go home. The crowd had witnessed several executions and, although the one they called "King of the Jews" died in a peculiar manner, the outcome for him was still the same.

Yet before he died, that man said words no prisoner had ever spoken. He mumbled, "Father, forgive them." Who was he talking to? Forgive them?

Uncovenanted, full and free, the love of God amazes me—

That love which once upon the Cross nailed the dark record of my loss.

The record of my sinful past, the stain that o’er my soul was cast,

Is wiped away, nor can be seen—’tis gone as though it ne’er had been.

Amazing mercy, boundless grace, no longer need I hide my face;

‘Tis cancelled all, and I am free, my sins were cleansed on Calvary.

—H.E.S. Doyle

By Bishop Robert Hayes Jr.

In this age of heightened security and safety measures, I marvel at the ways technology is used to confirm our identities.

When you travel beyond the borders of this country, you must have a passport, which informs customs agents about you, including where you’re going and where you’ve been. Coded on a thin black strip of that travel document is your age, your gender, your race, your height, your place of birth—the vital information necessary to confirm that you are who you say you are.

In other settings, more sophisticated equipment distinguishes fingerprints in a matter of seconds. Even more astounding are retina scanning and iris recognition. These newest technologies enable unmistakable, instant identification of an individual because every person’s eyes are unique. Utterly amazing!