Monday Morning Music Ministry

8-30-21

This week I called upon my personal prayer partners (not a closed group – adv.) to lift up a family of friends whose 16-year-old son had died suddenly of a brain aneurysm. Since I might minister in words in a small way, I also coveted prayers to fight through the fog of grief and anguish.

Christians never play one-upmanship in these circumstances, but a shared experience can be a palliative. A dear friend in Colorado has endured much, and wrote the line I use as the title of this essay. Actually her words were: “I am praying. I’ve written obituaries for my son, my daughter, my step mom, and now my little brother this year…. God is good but yes, life is terribly hard.”

The order of words has a shadow of meaning, but only as we recognize reflections of what our emotions see in our moments. Life is real, Longfellow wrote; life is earnest. But life ain’t nohow permanent, as Pogo Possum said. That is, God is eternal, and we are pilgrims and strangers passing through this world.

(Longfellow’s full quatrain was: “Life is real! Life is earnest! / And the grave is not its goal / Dust thou art, to dust thou returnest, / Was not spoken of the soul.”)

The service for Nehemiah, my young friend who died, was held this morning, as I write this. It was impressive and ultimately uplifting, as all “homegoing” services should be. A celebration. Nehemeiah is, after all, in the arms of Jesus – which was the fervent young believer’s goal and destination in his life.

Are we touched by irony? The degree of sadness and grief we experience when loved ones die, technically is selfish, no? We miss them; we think of what they could have been, where they might have traveled; we have only memories.

Well, these are not anomalies except in relation to our poor power to calibrate our lives to the ways of a God who loves us outrageously and with a depth and in ways we cannot fathom. But I am struck by another irony – speaking very personally, and asking your indulgence as I share theological questions during these days. AND I think, at the same time, of those lives lost in an instant in faraway Afghanistan.

Christians often speak at times like this of God “taking someone home,” and “God’s timing,” and “God’s purposes.” Speaking very personally, forgive me, but sometimes I wonder whether we occasionally give the devil a pass at certain moments. God welcomes His beloved home, of course. But “taking” them is something I struggle with.

It is the evil one who roams about as a roaring lion, seeking whom to kill and destroy and devour. There is evil in the world, the cause of sickness and disease, death and heartache. To acknowledge that a sovereign God “allows” things is a world of difference from what unfortunately many people persuade themselves to believe, especially in certain moments, that God ordains terrible things.

Theology that challenges us. But it is more useful – and correct, I believe – to rather turn to a proper exegesis of Romans 8:28: All things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.

Yes, we must love God; yes, we must be attuned to His call on our lives. But this verse does NOT say that all things ARE good. Plainly, many things in life are not good – from a teen’s brain aneurysm to military personnel being killed by a car bomb as they help people escape to freedom. But it is our job to make all things work for good… for God’s glory; to the devil’s disgrace; to serve Jesus in the midst of trials. It is not the number of our days, but what we do in them, that matters. Jesus sacrificed all He had for us!

Yes, life is hard. But, yes, God is good.

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One of many uplifting moments in the service occurred when the question was asked, how many youth belonged to Bible Bee (a nationwide club and movement that challenges youth to memorize Scripture), as Nehemiah was a member. Perhaps 200 teens came forward, and sang a hymn. Joyfully.

Hope for tomorrow? Yes! How many communities have a young population with such spiritual dedication and commitment?

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I cannot fail to add – addressing sudden deaths at any age and by whatever cause – that we all must be ready at all times. Ready to receive salvation. Life is real; life is earnest, yes. This is a song (written in 1894) with a grim but loving reminder about our very lives being at stake. A few words from it… and please listen to the full vid clip:

I dreamed that the great judgment morning Had dawned and the trumpet had blown. I dreamed that the nations had gathered, To judgment before the White Throne.

And oh, what weeping and wailing As the lost were told of their fate, They cried for the rocks and the mountains, They prayed, but their prayers were too late

The great man was there, but his greatness When death came, was left far behind. The angel that opened the records, No trace of his greatness could find.

And the souls that had put off salvation Said “Not tonight, I’ll get saved by and by. No time now to think of religion” – But at last they’d found time to die.

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Click: The Great Judgment Morning

8-23-21

Mournful… weeping… tearful. There are translations of the Latin word that encompasses grief and bitter sorrow. It does not represent regret nor repentance, for those are emotions we might have brought upon ourselves, or can hope to solve as we are able.

When a person or an event is lachrymose it implies a helplessness, a situation reflecting doom in spite of ourselves; what secular poets have addressed as the world or universe being against us. And we are lachrymose in response; sad, full of sorrows, impotent.

You can tell that I have been casting about, trying to define my reaction to the “situation” in Afghanistan. Heartbreak, horror, anger are feelings we all share. But I might offer some new thoughts – at least aspects that the talking heads on TV have largely neglected.

Before you read on, or even afterward, I don’t expect you to agree with my points of view (although I can hope so, or 12 years of these essays have wasted a lot of electrons…). We all bring personal attitudes to complicated issues and events; and despite whatever foundational beliefs we might have, our opinions often change.

For instance, I bleed red, white, and blue, yet I was against the first Gulf War and every expansion of it; the United States has been wrong to transform itself from a Republic to a democracy to an empire; and American foreign-policy motives have not always been pure or noble. I was afraid that our adventurism in the Middle East would end up as Vietnam did – blurred mission; ultimate lack of support for our military on the ground; defeat.

Let me know how the latest chapter is turning out.

I stipulate that I am in awe of our people in uniform, their service and sacrifice. In awe. More so since the brass and civilian masters have transformed them into pawns and targets… which should make us all more cynical, and angry.

Bad enough, the lost blood and treasure. But the nature of America’s rout – unfolding hourly, and sure to continue as “breaking news” for months and months – is astonishing. And depressing. Lies, bizarre orders, abandoning partners on the ground, lack of basic communication with key allies… a nightmare from which none of us dissenters can take an ounce of satisfaction.

My particular focus these days, however, extends beyond servicemen and women, the widows and families, the disabled and disfigured veterans, the betrayed and abandoned allied governments and individual Afghans who chose to help us. (By the way, who can confidently assure any potential allies, or governments like Taiwan, to trust the United States now? Only fools would make that assurance; and only fools would believe it.)

My thoughts are with missionaries.

We hear virtually nothing of them on the news. In Afghanistan there are many Christian aid workers and missionaries, many of whom have been there for many years. If people with American passports, and Afghans who chose to be translators and aides, are being assaulted, dismembered, and killed – and they are – it is all the more likely that Christian missionaries are targeted by the Taliban. As we observe these blood-red horrors on our TV screens… come our lachrymose feelings.

So. How can I be against “nation building,” as currently defined, but support proselytizing and converting Afghans to Christianity? That is today’s easiest question.

If you had a cure for cancer, you would share it, earnestly, with anyone you could, especially those who might have the disease. If you believe Jesus is the only way to Heaven, you will orient your life, and your work, by that belief. Especially if you love someone; and even if your love extends to great numbers of the “lost.”

Inevitably, some people push back with the remark that “we” should not impose such values on others. A frequent response – from people who care more about rhetorical points than the souls of people. See my point about a cancer cure – and realize that sin, and separation from Jesus, is a cancer of the soul.

Further, it is my experience that people who condemn “imposing Christian values” on others often are the people who decreed that the “gay” flag fly from the US embassy in Kabul. And who demanded rights for women, and American-style “democracy,” and American town-hall “pluralism” on an ancient and traditional culture. As noble as policymakers in the US think those goals are… why should they be imposed, but missionaries condemned?

Jesus commanded that we go into all the world and share the Gospel. That is one-on-one discipleship. He did not command His followers to invade countries, topple governments, and turn traditional societies into American suburbia.

I have five friends who know or support missionaries in Afghanistan, as I do; all different families or missions, by the way. Many have texted or videoed the jeopardy they face. Most are determined to remain. One was able to return to the US, but wants to go back. These missionary-servants are marked for torture and death… and America has exacerbated and accelerated such fates.

I will not name my friends or contacts, nor the missionary organizations on the ground. I do not trust the all-seeing eyes of Facebook, or the government – the Taliban or the American. Our political establishment and the current Administration have earned that opprobrium. Things we share can lead to peoples’ persecution or death.

Very obvious groups who are open and effective can be trusted resources for news and assistance, however: Voice of the Martyrs and Open Doors and Franklin Graham’s Samaritan’s Purse.

And in the meantime – as China surely prepares to invade Taiwan, confident that America has lost its moral compass and its will – I ask you to follow these events more, not less. Do not let lachrimosa paralyze you. What can we do? Distrust our government, is at the top of my list. Support groups who can assist; double down on your support.

And pray. Pray for the believers, pray for the martyrs, pray for wisdom. Pray for that land; pray for our land.

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Click: Lachrimosa  (Please double-click on this title for full-screen video)

8-16-21

The thoughts I want to share here are important, I think. They are to me, and I think should be to patriots and people of faith. Reflections on a theme are what constitute essays (rather than articles or sermons) and this week I also share a little diary of reading-matter that have paralleled and fueled my thoughts.

… I could say my “angst.” For many of us share an apocalyptic view of the current condition of America – of the West, of the cultural period in which we live, post-Christianity. Overall, we are encouraged since we have peeked at the end of the Book and know how our story ends. But we are in an awful place now; growing worse by the day in myriad aspects; and there will be torment before the End of Time. The Book of Revelation also makes that clear. A glorious spoiler, as it were.

I was talking with a like-minded friend this week, crying in our beer (seltzer water, actually) about the state of things. The virtual impossibility of turning things around. How can we resist? Fight back? Redeem? Rescue? How to insulate? What is next? Where is safe? Who is sane?

I have been re-reading the poetry of Edwin Arlington Robinson, an enigmatic American who was personally reclusive but simultaneously specific and universal in his free verse about everyday people and their character. Pessimistic, said some; fatalistic. He invented a town that was his setting, Tilbury Town. Edgar Lee Masters did the same with Spoon River, but of a different flavor.

Theodore Roosevelt, who “discovered” Robinson and gave him a government job with the instructions to think of poetry first and paperwork second – his lone exception to bending Civil-Service rules! – admitted that he did not always understand Robinson, but he recognized his genius.

In his poem “The Dark House” Robinson wrote,

Where a faint light shines alone, Dwells a Demon I have known.
Most of you had better say “The Dark House,” and go your way.
Do not wonder if I stay….

There he is who was my friend, Damned, he fancies, to the end–
Vanquished, ever since a door, Closed, he thought, for evermore
On the life that was before….

There’s a music yet unheard By the creature of the word,
Though it matters little more Than a wave-wash on the shore –
Till a Demon shuts a door.

So, if he be very still With his Demon, and one will,
Murmurs of it may be blown To my friend who is alone
In a room that I have known.

After that from everywhere, Singing life will find him there;
And my friend, again outside, Will be living, having died.

Before the poem was published in The Children Of the Night Robinson sent the poem to Roosevelt, who replied – mirroring its poetic and metaphysical tone, rare for Roosevelt – “There is not one among us in whom a devil does not dwell; at some time, on some point, that devil masters each of us; he who never failed has not been tempted. But the man who does in the end conquer, who does painfully retrace the steps of his slipping, why, he shows that he has been tried in the fire and not found wanting. It is not having been in the Dark House, but having left it, that counts.”

An undying truth, even if seemingly banal. Whether he was trying convince Robinson to look upward – or convince himself – it is a moral watchword. I memorized those lines as a boy and called upon them often. Roosevelt, for all his ebullience, knew about the Dark House, or at least was not unrealistic about the perils of life and our national destiny. In a remarkably revealing story, we are told that he entertained the writer H G Wells at Sagamore Hill and gloomily surveyed the challenges facing America in the future.

But he grabbed Wells by the lapels and fiercely said (again, probably more to himself): “But, it… is… worth… the… fight!”

Yes, America is worth the fight, not the least because we are trashing our foundational commitments to Biblical principles and Christian values. America has evolved from facing challenges, to learning from failures… to penalizing success.

I also read this week the very provocative essay by Charles Pépin, “The Virtues Of Failure.” Its refreshing combination of realism and honesty make an encouraging case for optimism. Translated, I hope well, from the French:

“As a teacher, I often see pupils mortified by the bad grades I dispense. Apparently nobody has informed them that human beings can fail. But it is a simple concept: we can fail…. Animals cannot fail, because their behavior is dictated by instinct. In order not to be wrong they just have to obey their own nature. Every time the bird builds its own nest it does so perfectly. Birds do not need to learn from their own failures.

“Being wrong, facing failure, we manifest our truth as humans — we are not animals determined by instinct; nor perfectly programmed machines; nor gods. We can fail because we are men and we are free. Free to make mistakes, free to correct them, free to progress.”

And here we diagnose the cancer that afflicts us. “Free” is becoming a dirty word. “Freedom” is being canceled. We have accelerated the slide from “cradle-to-grave” welfare to government answers for everything. Light bulbs to sneezes. Encouraging children to choose their gender – as if they could – before they can spell the word. Killing babies. Paying people not to work. Inviting hordes to invade our land, no health screening, no terrorist checks. Equating the Bible with “hate speech.” Reviving race-based bigotry.

And – from government, to the news media, to mass entertainment, to the healthcare industry, to churches themselves – teaching Americans in uncountable ways to look anywhere other than churches, the Bible, and God Almighty for answers to our dilemmas. (And, oh, do we have ‘em!) “No problem, you religious nuts! We’ve got it all covered!”

The government big enough to give you anything you want, is big enough to take away everything you have. Look around you. While you still can.

If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive. I John 1:9

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Click: I Know the Master of the Wind

8-9-21

God can do many things – in fact He can do ALL things – but sometimes He chooses not to. Certainly not according to our schedules. We have desires, but God knows our needs.

When our prayers become demands, our hopeful perception of God might become that of an all-powerful wielder of a magic wand. The Holy Spirit is there to nudge us back to spiritual humility – the realization that God answers prayer on His time… or in ways we didn’t prescribe… or sometimes with a “No.”

Simply, God is sovereign. The fervent prayers of righteous people avail much, yes. Yet our priorities must be to bow to His will, not persuade Him of our views.

God forbid. And He does.

Yet many prayers are answered. Yet we pray in the Spirit. Yet we are told to pray without ceasing. Welcome to the wonderful waters of God’s love – water as a Type of His Holy Spirit; waters where we may bathe and be cleansed; living waters we can drink, never to thirst again. But… mysterious waters they are.

Very recently some of my dear friends have encountered challenges and crises of the sort that sometime cause skeptics to scoff at believers.

We regard God as a good-luck charm, scoffers say. We mostly pray when things go bad, they say. Our “trust” gets shaky when things we desire do not materialize, they say. We rely on feelings, not faith, they say.

What “they say” is too often true of Christians! Can we blame them if they see too many instances of inconsistent faith? Some of the rotten timbers of modern life are “outcome-based” assessments, performance, marketing, ethics, and education. No right, no wrong, only judge by results… which means, of course, pre-determined goals. Outcome-based.

God doesn’t work that way (and neither should we).

But as pilgrims and strangers going through life, we see the rain fall on the just and the unjust. We see sinners prosper. Yes, we seek to please God and not humankind; yes, we know our rewards are in Heaven. But, back to my anguished point, do the righteous have to suffer so much? Is God letting His children (or us, as observers – let’s be honest about our reactions) down?

Not that it would be gossip, but I will refer obliquely to some friends’ recent situations; their identities do not matter. God knows them.

A dear friend who has written a book and built a ministry around coping with a spouse’s fatal disease… has now contracted that disease too. Three different friends who seemed to have “1950s-TV perfect families” are dealing with ugly ruptures. A new friend shared the horror of her parents being murdered, and a few years later her daughter shot to death. A friend, the picture of health and activity, pillar of his church and a great husband and father, underwent emergency heart surgery…

I know that this could evolve into a contest of tales of people we all know, or of ourselves. My point is not how unfair these events are, or how rare. My point is that they are indeed common.

My point is also that such “rain” that falls into our lives should not make us shrink, or fade, or wilt. It is not WHAT happens to us in life, but HOW we deal with things, that matters.

I have shared, here, that my late wife endured trials in her life that would have tested Job, as the saying goes. Job, that is, if he were very sick. Nancy had diabetes, heart attacks, strokes, kidney failure, cancer, celiac disease, went virtually blind (before miraculous healing), broken bones, amputations, heart transplant, and kidney transplant. By God’s grace her faith was strong, and she could say through it all, “I would not choose to go through it again… but I would not trade the experiences for anything.” Why? How?

Her faith grew; her witness – an example to others – was strong; and she learned to lean on God.

“Does Jesus care?” is a question that to those crazy skeptics is at once pertinent, and irrelevant. In a world where we might be surrounded by a cloud of close friends, family, prayer warriors, medical experts, therapists – you name it – I’m afraid we can also feel VERY alone in times of crisis.

No offense to all those people, but humanity has limits. I believe God has programmed Life so that, at the most difficult moments, where can we turn but to the Lord?
“Caring” is a buzzword that can be as counterfeit as it is facile. A substitute for action, assistance, succor, substantial resources… and even then, with human limits. When Jesus cares – I mean, when we KNOW He cares, because He always does – we have peace that passes understanding; health to our spirits maybe more than our bodies; an ever-present help in times of trouble.

Knowing that the Creator of the Universe cares, really cares, about you, puts everything else in proper perspective.

Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty Hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon Him… for He cares for you (I Peter 5: 6,7).

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Click: Does Jesus Care?