Monday Morning Music Ministry

11- 12-12

The recent election sees half of America crowing in jubilation, and half disappointed. Nothing new, there. For once the media has it right, when headlines proclaim that we are a 50-50 nation. Generally, conservatives and many Christians populate the corps of those who despair. But everyone lives to fight another day – sometimes, they itch to fight; sometimes they grow weary of what democracy has become.

I have the feeling that once the dust settles – the debates, the analysis, the what-ifs, the recriminations, the second-guessing, and such – many people will recognize that 2012 was more of a “consequential” election than any of the prophets could have foreseen. Forget the negative ads, the “ground games,” the media bias. This was the year that America went off the cliff – not only a financial cliff, but a social one.

The resounding, and fateful, votes across America were on the “undercards.” State ballot initiatives OK’d homosexual marriage, legalized recreational marijuana, and censorship of political speech; i.e., contra Citizens United – two approvals of each matter, spread across various states.

No longer can traditional conservatives and Christian patriots direct their complaints at small court majorities or legislatures that might have been influenced in one way or another.

The people are speaking. The rejection of traditional values goes hand-in-hand with the dependency culture, a society that enables various form of vice. In the name of “welcome,” “acceptance,” and non-judgmentalism, we are calling evil good. America will never be the same: throughout history, societies that so self-destruct seldom hit the rewind button.

I try to reconcile the traditional concept of “the Divine Right of Kings” with the democratic age. God does not SEND leaders to peoples in every case; He “allows” leaders and situations and consequences. Which is to say, we get the leaders we deserve. This is axiomatic. What we do to deserve them, and how we cope with consequences, is neither axiomatic nor automatic.

Those whom I gather under the umbrellas of cultural traditionalists and Christian patriots with me would do well to stop complaining about media bias, cynical campaigning practices, and pandering to voting blocs, however true and pernicious those factors are. The fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.

WE have let a generation slip away. WE have allowed churches to dilute the message of the gospel so they preach a feel-good, enablement gospel that leaves people without moral compasses. WE have allowed the entertainment media to pollute the sensibilities of audiences. WE have stood by while the educational-industrial complex has gutted schools of the Bible, traditional morality, and nationalism. WE have supported the news media while the commercialization of subversive concepts rolls along. WE have overseen the destruction of the traditional family, the spread of a drug culture, the erosion of personal responsibility.

It is almost ridiculous that, having watched, and often failed to resist, all these trends, that we regard an election whose results we regret and blame politicians or even other voters. Our actions – our inaction – has brought this to pass. How can it be otherwise?

What could we have done, what can we do? A lot. It involves “hurting other peoples’ feelings,” a cardinal sin these days. But Christians have come to the place where they don’t mind offending God, as long as our sinning and suffering neighbors are not offended. It involves yelling out our thoughts at more than our cats, our spouses, and our TV sets – getting in the face of those whom we see as negative influences, from school board candidates to presidents. It involves acting like we love the past, hate the present, and care about the future.

It involves doing what cultural traditionalists and Christian patriots have done through history. Work, sacrifice, fight. And pray, because this is a spiritual crisis more than an electoral contest.

On this Veterans day, with Election Day just behind us, we have a special set of role models before the eyes of our conscience. It always strikes me that many armies in history have been fueled by hatred, but the US military, invariably, suits up and reports for duty in order to liberate, aid, and serve.

“Greater love hath no man than this, than to lay down his life for his fellow man.”

Lamenting the drift of our civil culture, and pausing to honor our veterans, reminds me of the old hymn, “Onward Christian Soldiers.” Its chorus does NOT say, “marching to war,” but “marching AS to war.” Traditionalists and Christian patriots should not necessarily make war, but march for biblical values as if girding for battle.

Abraham Lincoln once said that our concern should not be whether God is on our side, but that we are on God’s side. In the battles to come – and there will be many; there SHOULD be many! – this should be our concern too.

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A moving rendition of the classic hymn that can be an anthem of renewal for citizen-battlers in the fight to reclaim our culture:

Click: Onward, Christian Soldiers

Categories: Government, Patriotism, Service

11-5-12

In education we have – or we once had – the three Rs. In discussions of campaigns and elections, we can divide discussions into categories of the three Ps – Partisan, Political, and Patriotic. There should be no negative connotations to any of them, as long as understand the sources and purposes. Citizens might grow tired of partisanship, yet in such contentions policies are formulated and governance achieved. Even our founders quickly adopted party identification; and The Federalist Papers argued for the positive roles of lobbyists in policy debates.

Then there is Politics, which (apart from corruption and mean manipulations) is also a necessary ingredient in the recipes of civic management. Patriotism, is, of course… “the last refuge of scoundrels!” is the old phrase that leaps to many minds. And so it has been. But it must always be what is its essential component – the noble motivation of citizens and their representatives. If it is honored more in the breach, so be it. The efforts of patriots are still worth the troubles and the muck.

In the campaign just ending there are few among us who would wish that the infernal phone calls and competing polls and annoying television commercials and cards and letters would continue. Gee, can’t we have, please, another five or six months of all this? And, maybe, six or eight more debates? I don’t think so; nobody does.

So I have promised election predictions. A couple paragraphs to the south, here, I will issue a dead-certain prediction. But first, some observations from the “patriotic” point of view – not that I would consider contrary forecasts unpatriotic. I just mean that my thoughts are as dispassionate as I can make them, with national and broad interpretations, and not partisan or political.

They all have to do with religious considerations. And I am struck by the fact that very few polls and scarcely any commentary this cycle has confronted the role of the Christian voter. In several elections the so-called Evangelical Bloc determined outcomes of local and national elections. Christians were courted. And profiled. And polled. They accounted for Bush’s victory margins; they were relatively lukewarm to McCain. This year I have observed several significant currents. They have been largely neglected by pollsters and commentators. The little device known as the “blog archive” and the major tool known as Google will soon determine whether I have fine-honed instincts or a case of late-term election overload. Anyway:

1. The reluctance of Christians to support Romney on the basis of his Mormon religion has largely evaporated. Many of my friends, six months ago, were resigned to “staying home” on the presidential vote, voting for the undercard but not endorsing what many Christians regard as a cultist. There is probably more opposition to Obama than affection for Romney; but, anecdotally, I see a voting bloc showing up at the polls that has been relatively quiet about its intentions.

2. I had the feeling when the abortion-and-contraception mandates, even for Catholic hospitals and charities, were announced, that the president’s campaign reckoned they were appealing to their base and not about to jeopardize votes they never had. And divert a week or two from discussions of the economy. But a sleeping giant was awakened. Again, anecdotal evidence: I have many Catholic friends, some of them very liberal, devoted to traditional Catholic charity work. I have heard many of them, in various degrees of heartache, say that they are otherwise totally committed to candidates from president on down… except – finally – they feel they have to draw the line on the abortion issue. “Despite everything else,” a friend told me recently, “I simply cannot vote for someone who excuses murder.” Multiply these feelings by millions; add the unprecedented sermon and pamphlet appeals by Catholic clergy; and we have, once again scarcely polled and concentrated in states like Pennsylvania and Ohio, a voting bloc that might seem to rise from nowhere.

3. The Black Church. Once again, to America’s shame, blacks are taken for granted. By their party of choice, always; by pollsters, this year. But I have not seen one poll of the black church community, which is indisputably a pillar of the large African-American population. Blacks are understandably proud of the first black president. But while white liberals ascribe racism to opponents of the president, some leaders of the black church itself have been mobilizing their own opposition to the president. Several organizations, representing hundreds of congregations, have been formed by leaders of the black church, upset with ineffective economic policies, bureaucratic patronization, drug policies, but most notably abortion stands and, especially, “their” president’s policy on homosexuality, “gay” marriage, and so forth. I think voters from inner-city churches in battleground states will surprise many analysts on the morning after.

So much for the under-the-radar predictions.

The certain, sure-fire, dead-certain, no-doubt prediction, however, is that whoever wins the popular and electoral votes on Tuesday night – or, if Hanging Chad makes a return engagement, a month from Tuesday night – whether Obama or Romney “win,” God is the victor. He cannot lose. He is in control. Our faith should be in Him, not candidates or platforms or campaigns.

Is this good news? Christians should rejoice over the truth of it. But truly, those who claim Jesus Christ and long for God’s will to be done on earth as it is in Heaven, might correctly wonder whether to dance in joy, or tremble in fear.

If God truly wins – that is, not just the truth of His Lordship, but the timing and application of His justice, for He cares little about evanescent campaigns and politics – America is in for a shock. How long can He withhold His hand? Are we about to exhaust His mercy?

I have often wondered whether soldiers, looking at the flag they defend, see something symbolized in each of those stars. We all can ask the same question. Count them off: does that star represent legal abortions of millions of babies? Does that star represent the shameful prevalence of drugs in our country? Does that star represent the nightmare of widespread of child abuse? Does that star represent the breakdown of the family unit, no less among Christians than the general public? Does that star represent the acceptance homosexuality and enshrinement of deviant lifestyles, in the law? Does that star represent a shallow failure to protect Christians around the world who are being persecuted? Does that star represent… God help us if the list reaches 50 stars. But I am afraid it could number more than 50 offenses to a righteous God.

What can committed Christians, in clarity and humility, do in a democracy? Well, we are all of us building blocks. Essentially, we can act, and vote, with integrity. We can affect our circle of friends and family. That might be enough… if there are enough of us. We can be little more than foundation stones, but with enough of us we can rebuild a mighty edifice that once stood for God.

Besides, Jesus was the “foundation-stone that the builders rejected.” And see what He won. Not an election, surely, but He won our salvation; and defeated sin and death and the fetters of the world-system.

My early projection is to call this election for God.

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As another, possibly more resonant, national anthem, “America the Beautiful” is just fine for millions of Christian patriots. And I will cast my vote for Ray Charles signing it. Here, with a slideshow of American scenes.

Click: America the Beautiful Sung by Ray Charles

10-28-12

The near coincidence of the presidential election and Reformation Sunday offers an opportunity for us to execute a gut-check. As Christians, as American citizens — to put a precise point on our roles: as Christ-followers, and as patriots and voters — let us see where we stand in the Year of Our Lord 2012.

Approximately 500 years ago, the Catholic monk Martin Luther, who was repelled by corruption in his church and who agitated for reform, was called to account by that church. Among his reforms were a new way to view the pope and the powers of the papacy (he regarded his views not as new, but as old, biblical perspectives). He translated the Bible into the language of the German people; he militated against aspects his day’s prosperity gospel, such as buying “indulgences” from priests to assure places in Heaven.

Luther was more than called to account. He was threatened with excommunication, and in fact was defrocked and kicked out of fellowship. He was chased and hounded. He was threatened with death — as many reformers over the previous century, beginning with Prague’s Jan Hus, and contemporaries of Luther himself, were being imprisoned, tortured, and put to death. He was put on trial for his beliefs.

Brother Luther was told to “recant,” literally to say he no longer believed what he believed; to renounce his positions; to deny what he wrote and preached; that is, to violate his conscience. Already his books were being burned in public places.

In one of the great moments of not only church history but human history, the beleaguered priest faced those who hated him and could easily take his life, but were in no position to judge him – a big difference. He stood, lonely, among the hostile throng, and firmly declared that it was impossible for him to deny what the Bible taught him, or abandon his devotion to the Lord. He could not, and would not, betray his conscience.

“Here I stand,” he thundered. “I can do no other!”

Luther’s astonishing stand was a historical fulcrum. Humankind’s narrative – civilization – never was the same after that scene. It was an illustration of total subjection to God’s authority; yet also was one of the mightiest seeds of individual responsibility and the democratic impulse that has ever sprouted. He used reason to defy earthly authorities, but he believed that godly revelation was superior to man’s reason.

Let us fast-forward to today. A presidential campaign – a “consequential,” generational election – is not the only point of comparison we might make between Reformation Sunday and Election Tuesday. But it can remind us of the excruciating issues that confront us. Sometimes, as when we vote, we can effect changes. Or believe that we can.

My biggest problem with democracy is not that our votes might count for little, or that voting “for the lesser of two evils” still elects evil; or whether people vote “strategically” for or against third-party candidates. The main problem with democracy is the lie that voting fulfills our civic responsibilities. That view is not just wrong; it is a cancer that corrodes, an attitude that harms more than any manner of helping.

The lie of democracy persuades us that right and wrong can be decided by majority vote. That we can think of surrendering our concerns when we lose at the ballot boxes or courts. That we “gave it our all” on some issue or other, and that we should be satisfied with the results of votes.

Voting is the least we should do as citizens. If there are no issues or candidates we care about, we should not vote, but otherwise the vote is but one of a thousand tools to press one’s case. Debates, discussions, persuasion, letters, protests, town halls, writing, calling, volunteering, even civil disobedience, are among other things.

I address this to all of us, and without regard to parties or places on the spectrum. Think of Luther when the chips were down; think of volunteers at Valley Forge who sacrificed their lives, fortune, and sacred honor for a future they could not see except in the most hopeful of their dreams. Think of pioneers and soldiers and missionaries who all said, in their own ways, “Here I stand,” not just for themselves, their faith, or even themselves; but for you and me.

To address some issues: If you believe abortion is murder, why is your conviction dissipated when a few men in robes declare it to be a “choice,” not the death of an innocent? If you think the government is committing war crimes, or practicing torture, why does your passion die when a new government practices the same old acts? If you think certain “life choices” and lifestyles are sinful, why do you not stand up for your own beliefs? – to avoid confrontation, to not lose friends, to prevent people from thinking you are… what? A Christian? If that is the reason, that is something they should already know. And expect that you will act a certain way.

Luther knew that his judges were nothing, compared to the judgment of the Lord God Almighty. Some day – you know this! – God will ask us where we stood on certain issues. Maybe they were related to elections, maybe just economic problems or social justice, but always, ultimately, spiritual. Almost everything is.

Instead of “Here I stand,” will we say, “I stood… over there, where nobody could notice me”? How do you think God will like hearing things like “I went along to get along,” or “Everyone changed their opinions” on this or that and “what was I supposed to do?” We don’t let our children act like that; why should God give us a pass? If you are tempted to think, “Well, Luther was an important guy; I’m just me,” you should remember to look at the 11th chapter of Hebrews. A “great cloud of witnesses” is always watching what we do.

On election day, and every day, we must stand with God’s clear word, and our clear consciences, and act. We can do no other. God help us.

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A dramatic clip from 1953’s acclaimed film “Martin Luther,” the moment Dr. Luther makes his defense and confession before accusers, defenders, and enemies at the Diet of Worms. The actor portraying Luther is Niall MacGinnis.

Click: Here I Stand

10-15-2012

Reprinted by request during the presidential election run-up.

Election Day is upcoming. Which of our presidents was the most religious — anyway, the most observant — is a topic that has relevance, perhaps more so when “social issues” inhabit headlines. Lest we judge, lest we be judged, we should acknowledge that it is an open question with no definitive answer, yet a fit topic for discussion. It is interesting to view the historical evidence and consider verifiable records.

I addressed the topic last President’s Day, and it proved to be the most popular –- or at least the recipient of the most “hits” and reactions -– in the several years I have been blogging and writing devotional essays. Are people hungry for intellectual “parlor games”… or wanting to connect the dots between political leaders and Christian faith?

In my case I hold Theodore Roosevelt in particular regard. A year ago my biography of him, BULLY! (Regnery History, 440 pages, illustrated entirely by vintage political cartoons), was published, and I devoted a chapter to TR’s faith. (Indeed, I am working on a full book on the theme.) One thing I have come to appreciate about TR is something that largely has been neglected by history books. That is, the aspect of his fervent Christian faith. In some ways, he might be seen as the most Christian and the most religious of all presidents; and by “religious” I mean most observant.

This is (admittedly) subjective; it is difficult to compute and compile lists of factors. TR’s name at the top of the list of religiously observant presidents might surprise some people, yet that surprise would itself bear witness to the nature of his faith: privately held, but permeating countless speeches, writings, and acts. (A step out of character for this man who otherwise exhibited most of multi-faceted personality to the world!) His favorite verse was Micah 6:8 -– “What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?”

He was of the Dutch Reformed Church. He participated in missions work with his father, a noted philanthropist. He taught weekly Sunday School classes during his four years at Harvard. He wrote for Christian publications.

He called his bare-the-soul speech announcing his principles when running in 1912, “A Confession of Faith.” Later he closed perhaps the most important speech of his life, the clarion-call acceptance of the Progressive Party nomination that year, with the words, “We stand at Armageddon and we battle for the Lord!” That convention featured evangelical hymns and closed with “Onward Christian Soldiers.”

He titled one his books Foes of Our Own Household (after Matthew 10:36) and another, Fear God and Take Your Own Part. He once wrote an article for The Ladies’ Home Journal, “Nine Reasons Why Men Should Go To Church.” After TR left the White House, he was offered university presidencies and many other prominent jobs. He chose instead to become Contributing Editor of The Outlook, a relatively small Christian weekly magazine.

He was invited to deliver the Earl Lectures at Pacific Theological Seminary in 1911, but declined due to a heavy schedule. Knowing he would be near Berkeley on a speaking tour, however, he offered to deliver the lectures if he might be permitted to speak extemporaneously, not having time to prepare written texts of the five lectures, as was the school’s customary requirement. It was agreed, and TR spoke for 90 minutes each evening -– from the heart and without notes -– on the Christian’s role in modern society.

… and so on. TR was not perfect, but he knew the One who is. Fond of saying that he would “speak softly and carry a big stick,” it truly can be said, also, that Theodore Roosevelt hid the Word in his heart, and acted boldly. He was a great American because he was thoroughgoing good man; and he was a good man because he was a humble believer.

Remember Theodore Roosevelt on his birthday, Oct 27, days before the election. Remember him every day -– we are not seeing his kind any more.

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A clip from a memorable movie of the 1970s, starring Sean Connery and Candice Bergen, depicting Theodore Roosevelt handling a terrorist situation in north Africa during his presidency. Brian Keith as TR.
Click: The Wind and the Lion

9-17-12

Civil eruptions everywhere, from American streets to foreign cities. Financial doom. Social decay. Dirty politics. Depressing statistics. Polls that reveal Americans believe the country is moving backwards.

Indeed, Americans have moved. Christians have moved.

In truth, we once were tipping, then sliding, then running away from our foundational heritage; and now are in a free-fall. We chose to move from so many secure places, and now we moan about the consequences.

We act like we have no faith in the Faith we profess, as Christians, or as Patriots. It is natural that our children grow up doubting what we tell them, because parents and pastors try to fit every “truth” into the molds of peoples’ desires. The Bible’s words can apply to the duties of responsible citizenship as well as religious practice: “For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; And they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall turn toward fables.” (II Timothy 4:3-4). Itching ears.

Citizens become disinterested, or embarrassed, or ashamed, of their nation when its leaders stumble down such pathways themselves. The same applies, though more subtly, to religion.

We see people of other religions jeopardize their lives for their beliefs. Not only jihadists who attack embassies and murder people; but Christians, too, around the world who are persecuted, imprisoned, and martyred for their faith. More people lost their lives for professing Christianity in the twentieth century than in all previous centuries combined. Yet in the West we apologize for Christianity, endure insults, and too often regard it as a personal quirk instead of the hope of humankind.

Once upon a time the kidnapping of an American would have citizens breathing fire, because the average American was viewed by other average Americans as more exalted than any other country’s Sovereign. Today Americans watch their soldiers killed and humiliated in the streets; and the American flag desecrated every week, some place on earth… and too many citizens turn the page or switch the channel, and yawn.

America’s new religion is “fairness,” “kindness,” “hope,” “openness,” “transparency,” with no real meanings to those words. People whose minds are so open that their brains have fallen out. All that remains is Ego, manifested, for example, in the belief that a couple decades of sins and social fads cancel the wisdom of human history and the words of Scripture – the commands of an Almighty God.

American believers, even Christian patriots, have moved from places where once we stood. We are pushed, and moved, every day, by circumstances, by fear of what others might think or say. We make excuses for our own discarded values; we act as if moral cowardice is a positive virtue in this New Age. We fool no one but ourselves. Especially not God Almighty, who showed us the Truth, and instructed us in diverse ways. Neither will we fool History: if the world indeed survives, future generations will look back at Western Civilization, Post-Modern Christianity, and the American Culture circa 2012, in wonder.

What we have squandered. The things we have surrendered. The bad choices we made. The leaders we chose and the policies they inflicted. History will weep in sorrow, or laugh in derision. And will wonder, over and over, how we cut off our own roots, how we allowed ourselves to be moved, and toppled, and to decay. Once we were, like the old spiritual song said, like trees planted by the waters, never to be moved.

God, surely, never moves. His ways are eternal. We can move away from Him, even run away, and pretend that truth and stability follow us. But we deceive ourselves. God cannot be moved, and neither does He allow Himself, for long, to be mocked.

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I mentioned that old spiritual song. Its words are a reminder:

Jesus is my Savior, I shall not be moved;
In His love and favor, I shall not be moved,
Just like a tree that’s planted by the waters,
Lord, I shall not be moved.

In my Christ abiding, I shall not be moved;
In His love I’m hiding, I shall not be moved,
Just like a tree that’s planted by the waters,
Lord, I shall not be moved.

If I trust Him ever, I shall not be moved;
He will fail me never, I shall not be moved,
Just like a tree that’s planted by the waters,
Lord, I shall not be moved.

On His word I’m feeding, I shall not be moved;
He’s the One that’s leading, I shall not be moved,
Just like a tree that’s planted by the waters,
Lord, I shall not be moved.

Chorus
I shall not be, I shall not be moved;
I shall not be, I shall not be moved;
Just like a tree that’s planted by the waters,
Lord, I shall not be moved.

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Four young musicians from around the South, starting their careers or hoping to, gathered in a humble studio in Memphis in 1956. They all were raised in the Assembly of God Church, and they knew the old hymns. As they gathered around the piano, very informally, and sang from the wellsprings of their heritage, someone was smart enough to turn microphones on. Rough, but heartfelt and all from memory, the de facto “Million-Dollar Quartet” – Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash, and Carl Perkins – spent an hour sharing their music, including songs like “I Shall Not Be Moved.”

Click: I Shall Not Be Moved

8-6-12

Recently I heard a world-famous preacher talk about God’s promises. Actually, it was the wife of a world-famous preacher, who had developed quite a thriving business with her own ministry. These days it seems that evangelists and big-name ministers are not just called to preach the Gospel, but called to be the wife, or son, of a big-name preacher. Prosperity often follows.

Actually, that was the topic – prosperity – of this evangelista, who shall remain nameless. But Victoria Osteen is not the only prophet of the Prosperity Gospel these days. Many of my brothers and sisters in the Pentecostal churches, and in other corners of Christianity, frequently preach about prosperity, “seed offerings,” the blessings that await the faithful – under the general, spiritual umbrella of “receiving God’s promises.”

Content warning: I do not intend to join the debate, here, on the theology of what should be a more active discussion in today’s American church. I want to address our response to the promises of God, not whether people are wasting chances for nice homes and cars, or whether people are wickedly twisting the words of the Bible, or whether naiveté or agendas have driven new translations and understandings.

For my own part, the plausibility of God’s intention to shower me with material things was shaken years ago when the magazine of a favorite evangelist printed a chart that explained the “hundredfold return” that Jesus promised. It explained by simple arithmetic how dollars given as offering would return in dollars that were, well, one hundred times greater. A sure bet.

Mark 10:28-31: Then Peter began to say to Him, “See, we have left all and followed You.” So Jesus answered and said, “Assuredly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or lands, for My sake and the gospel’s, who shall not receive a hundredfold now in this time – houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions – and in the age to come, eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last first.”

Hmmm. Christ’s fine print included sacrifices that do not mention money; results in this life and the next; persecutions might be numbered among the “dividends”; and a warning against expecting anything by formula. It IS called the Hundredfold “Return,” not “Reward.”

So much for not joining the debate, but I do urge us all to think about God’s promises for a moment. God had made many promises to us, His children. Many more than we realize. More than most of us ever… take advantage of? … receive? With terms like that we stray close to presumption, a sin. Not petitioning God to do something, not expecting, but presuming He will do something; and as it turns out in the circumstances of believers, it translates to Him do doing something we want. Not usually the mode of the Almighty.

Bookstores are full of biblical “Promise Books”… and should be. Indeed, God has made many promises. In fact, besides the history and commandments, we can say that the entire Bible is “God’s Promise Book”! Some of God’s promises are conditional, of course. But His greatest promise – eternal life bought by the substitutionary death of His Son – is unconditional. Jesus died while we were yet sinners, and we are free to accept or reject this unspeakable gift according to His grace.

How often do the evangelists talk about OUR promises, in between “calling in” those of God? Every one of us, maybe in different ways, have made the same promises to God – when we received Christ into our hearts; when we have been hurting; when we have sought forgiveness; after we have sinned; at times of confusion; when crises have hit; during challenges in the areas of health, finances, career, loved ones; and so forth in an endless list. When we recite the Lord’s Prayer or the Creeds, we exchange promises with God. The mere act of repentance – a frequent thing for Christians – is tantamount to making a promise.

… and how often do we break our promises to God? How many times do we sin? The thoughts, words, and deeds, even of “saints,” are not perfect. We break our word to the Creator of the Universe, the master of our souls. Often. And we have the audacity to call God out about what we perceive to be His promises to us? God cannot lie, no… but let us be a little humble about this Promise thing. As Micah wrote, He has showed you, oh man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?

Does God want us to prosper? I say that it is not inconsistent with His will. But I have a friend who once said to me, with tears in his eyes, “I KNOW if I were rich, I would lose control of myself in a lot of ways, afford the sins I used to lust over… probably kill myself in the process.” If this man was correct about himself, it would be a merciful God who would prosper him in radically different ways.

Farther along, we will understand the finer points of theology. But we can receive the spiritual blessings of justice, mercy, and humility, right now. That is a solid promise we can take to the REAL bank.

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Part of a Christian’s humility is accepting that we will never know some things… or know them “farther along.” Here that great old hymn of faith is sung in a living-room setting – complete with flubbed lines! – by three of the most beautiful singers, and beautiful voices, in music today: Suzy Bogguss, who opens and sings the verses; Matraca Berg; and Gretchen Peters on the mandolin. A prosperity of talent! (With the line, “And still we wonder why others prosper…”)

Click: Farther Along

7-30-12

Does God have a sense of humor? Speaking personally, I get grouchy whenever I hear the lame responses like, “Just look in the mirror!” or “Check out the platypus!” These lines are facile and obvious – but they are also spiritually offensive. God created you; He created the mirror; and He even created the platypus, according to His will. Humor is a matter more serious than glib wisecracks.

Whether God has a sense of humor is to some people an open question, but ultimately a silly question. Existentially, God has a sense of humor since senses of humor exist in the world. How it is manifested is a bit problematic – something to add to your long list of “questions to ask the Lord on your first day in heaven.”

In fact there are few biblical instances of God laughing. When He does, it’s usually in derision: laughing contemptuously at the wicked or the condemned. Returning to the existential, it is not intellectual presumption to assume that if Jesus wept (see the shortest verse in Scripture) He surely must have laughed too.

Biblical examples of laughter are few and far between, although we don’t need a description of God actually being mirthful (the Chortling Bush? ) to know that humor has a place in His plan. Consider:

Jesus saying, “Let the dead bury the dead” – a sarcastic challenge to one’s perception.

Similarly, Jesus’s almost visual depiction of the contrast between a speck in one person’s eye and a log in another’s – exaggeration to make His point.

Jesus, again: In the middle of a scathing tirade, He resorted to a ridiculous allusion to paint a contrast, when He compared people’s hypocrisy to someone who strains a gnat out of a cup, but is willing to swallow a camel.

The Savior’s nicknames for His disciples – Peter the Rock, a pun; “Sons of Thunder” – reveal a playful use of humor.

The writer J C Lamont has speculated on the humor in the biblical account of God appearing in some human form and wrestling with Jacob… and resorting to sneakiness to win! He bested Jacob in the area of his putative strength, which is not only a just result, but a humorous ending to that significant chapter in Jacob’s life.

Cartoonist and educator Mark Dittmar sees a graphic use of “black humor” in Paul’s criticism of Judaizers in Galatians – in effect, “Why stop at circumcision? Let them castrate themselves!”

Mark’s wife Lynn can’t resist seeing humor in God speaking through Balaam’s ass – choosing a most ridiculous vessel when something less startling would have sufficed.

We cannot ignore examples of laughter in the Bible – Abraham’s barren wife laughing when she received the news that she would conceive… and her son’s very name, Isaac, meaning “laughter” in Hebrew.

As I recalled nicknames of the Disciples, my mind raced to some prominent names in the church. Is there humor here? –

The first Chief Rabbi of the modern State of Israel, a dignified Torah scholar, nevertheless was named Rabbi Kook;

The most respected Archbishop of Manila, who, after his elevation by Pope Paul VI, and (as is customary) using his last name in his new title, was Cardinal Sin;

Is there any humor in the fact that one of the most corrupt and licentious of popes – fathering two illegitimate children – was Pope Innocent VIII?

In American Evangelicalism, one the cheeriest uplifters and bearers of glad tidings in his crusades was nevertheless named Moody;

At a time when the public was skeptical of televangelists congenitally having boasted and swaggered, there was Jimmy Swaggart;

At a time when the public is skeptical of television ministries’ obsession with money, a prominent TV preacher is named Creflo Dollar;

At a time when the public is skeptical of ministries’ ethical standards – whether donors are being swindled – there is the popular (but very ethical) Chuck Swindoll;

At a time when the public is skeptical of television preachers making questionable claims and popping off on every subject, there was Pastor Peter Popoff.

As it is written, you can’t make this stuff up.

Many are the attributes of God and the names of the Christ in the Bible, and on posters sold in Christian bookstores: Alpha and Omega; The Arm of the Lord; The Author and Finisher of Our Faith; The Faithful Witness; The Good Shepherd; The King of Kings; The Lamb of God; Lord of Lords; Messiah; Prince of Peace; Bright and Morning Star; Balm of Gilead; Our Passover; Rock; Rose of Sharon; Wonderful Counselor; Son of God; Savior. And so on. But one of the most essential often is overlooked – “essential” because it reflects the Essence of Christ.

Friend.

We have become conditioned by generations of paintings and movies and Sunday-school lesson-sheets that portray Jesus as everything from grim to moon-faced mystical to well-coiffed and white-bread. But if Jesus could weep, He surely smiled. And if He loved His friends, and strangers, enough to figuratively climb up on the cross to suffer and die… certainly He cared enough to be a friend, in the best senses we can think of.

We should know the Jesus who smiled, who laughed, who connected with people by a soft word and perhaps a joke, who put His arm around someone in good humor. He was more than familiar with the first verse of Proverbs, chapter 15: “A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” He was a Man of Sorrows, the Bible tells us, and therefore humor must have been a special language to those who identified with Him in sorrow.

Just as using “Abba” (in effect, “Daddy”) as another name for God that allows a greater intimacy, let us all see Jesus more often as Lord and Savior… and Pal. He IS a friend like no other.

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If Jesus is our Holy Friend, then the comforting old hymn “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” can occasionally be a little more informal, a little more accessible to us! Here is a Dixieland-Rock-Funk (OK, you come up with a better category) version by the great Bart Millard, moonlighting from MercyMe.

Click: What a Friend We Have in Jesus

7-16-12

Madison Square Park. An almost magical piece of Manhattan, an oasis of greenery, specialized flower gardens, benches, fountains, statues, and winding little pathways. On sunny but cool, clean-air, New York City Spring days, as it was when I visited recently, it seems Heaven-like, miles and maybe ages away from urban bustle.

The original city planners of grid-like Manhattan streets mercifully retained old Broadway, which cuts diagonally through the island, creating numerous triangles of arterial anomalies. They can be small, like Herald Square to the north, one-fifth of an acre; or spacious, like Madison Square Park. Bordered by Broadway, Fifth Avenue, 23rd Street, and Madison Avenue’s terminus, the Park is larger than six acres. In its neighborhood were the first two Madison Square Gardens; P. T. Barnum’s Museum; the pioneering Fifth Avenue Hotel and A. T. Stewart Department Store; the iconic Metropolitan Life Building; and, at its southern end, the Flatiron Building. During the 1880s the Park hosted the tallest structure in New York City: the arm and torch of the Statue of Liberty, placed there for visitors to climb, in a plan to raise funds for the statue’s base and erection in New York Harbor.

It sounds idyllic and is indeed full of history, but when I grew up in New York City, Madison Square Park suffered from neglect. And when I taught at the nearby School of Visual Arts in the 1990s, it had become an ugly, smelly, unsafe place to be. So on my recent visit to New York, I was happily surprised to see the results of a decade-long project and conservancy by the city and neighborhood groups.

Fortified with an appropriate park-bench repast – pushcart hot dogs – I sat back and enjoyed the place and time, not quite sure that place and time did not elude me, albeit engagingly. Was it a remnant of the old days that an evident homeless couple sat on a nearby bench, chattering and sharing an old piece of bread? But a mom or nanny passed by with a high-tech baby carriage, and I thought, That child is entering a nicer world than if she were here 20 years ago. And a young woman sat down on another nearby bench and started playing the guitar and singing songs I could not quite hear. All seemed beautiful. The way a city should be?

I was briefly blinded by the reflection of the sun on the gold facing of the old MetLife Building. I was aware, suddenly, of a man sitting next to me. It seemed he knew what I was thinking; but after all, I had been looking around earnestly, taking note of all I could. He shared my appreciation of nature’s glory that afternoon, and then commented on the same things I had paused to notice.

The old man and woman I had dismissed as forlorn homeless drifters? He said that they were, indeed, homeless; and neither had found much happiness over their long lives. But they met in the Bowery Mission downtown and became the best of friends, even falling in love. What made the world look away, they somehow found attractive in each other; and there was not a happier couple in all of Madison Square Park.

The baby in the bionic carriage? Her parents had split in an ugly scene, the father never to return and the mother addicted to an assortment of drugs. The relatives caring for the baby girl would not be able to continue for long. The young woman singing with her guitar, hoping for coins to be dropped into the shoebox? The words to her song – all of a sudden I could discern them – were about a hopeless life, lost love, and what she called her death-sentence of AIDs.

“So you are saying,” I asked the man, “that nothing here is as pleasant as it seems? Is there darkness behind every image?” No, he answered – just look at the joy in the homeless couple I showed you. And you do well, he told me, to have your spirits lifted by a beautiful day, and signs of happiness. But life’s problems, unlike a city park, cannot be solved by paving the pathways and planting some flowers – anyway, we cannot stop there. Accept the improvements, take heart from the joy… but remember that people still hurt, people still hurt each other, people still need Words that will transform their souls, not merely adjust their daily routines.

He swept his hands across the landscape of the park, and then, upwards, to the thousands of apartment windows that overlooked Madison Square Park, behind each a separate story. I could hear, and I quickly saw, that the man was crying, tears glistening on his cheeks. I looked up at the windows, knowing that his wise words were meant to remind me to appreciate the “good,” to see the “special” that was seldom readily apparent; but never to lose sight of hurt and pain and heartache: the needs of our neighbors.

I looked back, and of course the stranger was gone. I didn’t bother to look around or behind me. I believe angels visit us; and even Jesus can bring messages – “as you do it to the least of these, you do unto Me” applies to the love that lies behind the compassion shown through, say, bandages or meals. My visitor’s words lifted me up, not let me down, that afternoon.

Jesus wept (it is recorded in John 11:35) when He approached the dead Lazarus. We cannot believe Christ was affected by death, because He was about to raise the man back to life. And He knew that after a short time He too would die… and overcome death. We may wonder whether Jesus wept because sin had claimed another life; “the wages of sin is death,” and that He had come that people might have life and have it more abundantly – weeping over peoples’ wasted opportunities. Or He might have wept over the grieving friends and relatives of Lazarus, who scarcely realized that Jesus was in their midst. The Lord and Giver of life.

They became victims of their own superficial perceptions.

Jesus wept, and I believe He still does. People are still lost in sin, hurting, hurting each other, and needing the Word. Will they find it through sunny afternoons and fragrant flower gardens, or will they hear it from us? We should weep, too.

I have cried many more times in my life since becoming a Christian. Tears of joy, yes, but also of burning conviction. And seeing hurting souls I never saw – that way – before. Sometimes the most eloquent prayers we can pray are wordless. “He Understands My Tears,” a songwriter wrote. Another song states it well: God sometimes washes our eyes with tears, that we might better see.

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Yet another gospel song carries this theme – and illustrates the eloquence of Jesus’ weeping. Have you ever noticed how teardrops, just like raindrops, when you look closely, can reflect whole new visions of the world, a different reality, multiple images, brighter colors?

Click: Tears Are a Language God Understands

7-9-12

“The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.” The lesson implicit in this aphorism, that we should be satisfied with what we have, discounts the possibilities that you are standing in quite a barren patch indeed, or that the other grass IS greener, or perhaps that a life represented by greener pastures is not just our desire but a necessity.

But human beings have a problem with sorting out desires and necessities. It is always worthwhile, for instance, to pray for discernment so that we might ask God for what we need, not what we want. Spiritual maturity is when we know He will answer along those lines anyway: but we must keep our priorities straight. We should look less to the pastures over the fence and over the horizon, and more to the One who nurtures those pastures.

Our culture (what the Book of Common Prayer calls “the world, the flesh, and the devil”) continually distorts this understanding. The tendencies of our natures to be dissatisfied with what we have, combined with the spirit of the age that tells us that human devices ultimately will be sufficient to satisfy every human yearning, add up to an upside-down world. Upside-down values, upside-down actions, upside-down results.

The world’s literature is filled with tales of men who try to recapture a lost or misspent youth, and, contrarily, youths who aspire to manhood before the wisdom that comes with experience – the literal meaning of premature. Closer to home, I turn to something I have observed about American society. I rely less on charts and graphs when I think about certain things, trusting instead to random half-hours at shopping malls. I have lost count of the number of teenage girls I have seen who, evidently, cannot wait to be women: excessive make-up; clothes and undergarments that (they apparently believe) make them look 30 years older; smoking and rough language; making babies like Mom did. I notice in equal numbers women who need to fool the world, or themselves, that they are still 30 years younger: tattoos; clothes designed for teens; and, again, cosmetics and outfits that are more camouflage than fashion. Upside down.

It extends to more serious realms (not that I don’t think that corruptions of age, gender, and roles are not serious). Ours has become a culture where the blessings of science and medicine run on simultaneous tracks – more miraculous techniques of delivering pre-term children and rescuing at-risk lives… and devising more efficient means to euthanize babies and “mercy kill” the sick, the elderly, and the “inconvenient,” conspiring in laboratories and courtrooms. Upside down.

Politicians say one thing and do another. Upside down. Many of society’s role models would have us think that bodies are indestructible and souls are fragile and off-limits; upside-down advice, because Americans abuse and overburden our bodies to an alarming degree; and even preachers don’t always act like they know our souls can handle all manner of tough love. And they should, to stay healthy.

Competition is good for people. One way we can test this is by observing that self-destructive elements in America have transformed it into a dirty word. Yet there is a fine line – the fence separating the greener grass, if you will – between the healthy impulses of ambition, and mere dissatisfaction or cynical pessimism. If we wallow in hypocrisy, we are a heartbeat away from fatal defeatism as a culture.

… these are all secular observations, very secular. Upside-down values are guaranteed in a secular culture, because secularism by nature does not have an Anchor. Does America yearn for better things, or are we into a cycle where we reflexively will keep hating what we have, and who we are?

By returning to God and to biblical principles, we can be free of the lies of the world, the flesh, and the devil; we can find self-respect in ways other than upside-down role reversals dictated by TV shows and commercials; we can be patient and confident, not impatient and full of doubts.

Boys act like men and men act like boys? Girls act like women and women act like girls? Scientists act like killers and killers act like scientists? Here’s another one: Every day, everywhere, people act like God, or think they can. Does God act like us?

Well, we should be grateful that God does not act like us. But one time, in one unique way, He did. He chose a nexus-point in history to become man, and to dwell amongst us. Of the many reasons for this, chief of these to provide a means for our salvation, God wanted to assure us in case we ever forget (!) that He knows our sorrows, He shared our pain, He understands temptation, He is not offended by failure and He honors repentance, He can forgive sin, He wants to live within us so that we can have a better “self” to self-respect.

He tells us that the color of the grass over the fence does not matter. After all, there will always be other fences and distant pastures. What matters is His promise that all things will be made new. Consider the words of that promise singly, separately, in any combination: All. Things. Will. Be. Made. New.

Meditate on the words of this promise, and the upside-down will pass away, whether green or slightly greener. Whatever. Things are rightside-up in God’s world, the Kingdom Come.

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We have context this week that inspires, supports, and illustrates the message. Beautiful thoughts and images from the anointed Beanscot Channel on YouTube; and a tender but powerful song by the gifted singer-songwriter J. J. Heller. “All Things Are Made New.”

Click: Kingdom Come

6-25-12

When you write books, or blogs, you never know in advance – and, usually, even afterwards – who your readers will be. In my Christian writing, I begin every work the same way I advise writers I mentor: pray that you honor and please God, but also lift up the readers you don’t see and probably will never know. Our job is to plant seeds, not reap harvests.

In this short piece, however, I DO target specific readers: not curious web surfers nor casual Christians; but rather the “subset” of readers who are committed Christians, on-fire believers, dedicated church workers, lay volunteers, teachers, missions workers, youth workers. You fit these descriptions, and perhaps you came to know Christ in a personal and powerful way many years ago. Your life has been changed, ever since.

For those of you in this group, I have a question:

Do you remember God?

Is the God you serve, and to whom you pray, the same One you met when the Gospel miraculously and joyfully invaded your soul? Are you still surprised by Him every day? Is Forgiveness still something that you crave, and cherish, and share? Does the message of salvation astonish you, and humble you, every time you think of it? Does the sacrifice of Jesus’s passion and death still grieve your soul – and does the miracle of Resurrection thrill you like nothing else?

Did you once shout Hallelujahs in church, and now you merely say the word without passion? Do you shed tears, any more, of sorrow or joy like you once did? Is it possible that your “faith walk” has become, not a challenge nor a privilege, but a habit?

I am qualified to ask these questions because I have come face to face with them, often pleading Guilty. Many times do I MISS the early bloom of New Faith: the excitement, the spiritual hunger, the doubts and the overcoming of doubts, the really real realization that I am a new creature in Christ Jesus.

How do we reclaim the exhilaration of becoming not just a Child of God but a Baby of the King? That is our task, and its answer is within our grasp; just because these pitfalls are common does not mean they are inevitable or incurable. Stay in the Word, and proceed on your faith walk, as it were, on your knees.

But here are some factors I nominate as signals that very good Christian religionists might be slipping from the ranks of very good Christ followers:

You love your church! But do you find yourself, when recommending it to others, talking about the programs and activities… and, less, how Jesus is mightily proclaimed?

You love the worship team; maybe you are a part of it; you tell others about the awesome music. Is it possible, by the evidence of your testimony, that you are more in love with the worship than with the One who is to be worshiped? Do you leave church talking about a new revelation of Truth, or the awesome guitar solo?

Does your pastor interrupt his own greeting with admonitions that the congregation didn’t yell “good morning” to his satisfaction; or that people aren’t smiling enough? What about people who enter a church, risking the Cheerful Police, in order to lay in front of the altar, crying unto the Lord? Such hurting souls seem unwelcome in some of today’s “churches.”

Your involvement in projects, in small groups, in kids’ activities, even social and service work – is it all church-related? And is that good? Are we pulling up the blankets around us, creating a comfy Christian ghetto, when all is said and done? “Go ye into all the world,” Jesus commissioned. Not “Go ye to other satellite home groups…” The world is full of clubs and groups; maybe we should compartmentalize, not blend, our social and our spiritual needs.

I have a suspicion that the Lord grieves when our pattern of “reaching out” to others, so called, leaves the nurture of our own souls behind. After half a millennium, the “gospel of works” is alive and well.

This is not an “either-or” situation for Christians, whether they are “old” or “new” believers. Yet we tend it make it so. I suspect further that God is more honored, and likely is more pleased, that we cherish and cultivate our own spiritual needs first. Public libraries host book-review groups; neighborhood clubs go on day trips; and the Colonel is always there for the fried chicken. Let the church be used again for seeking, and worshiping, God Almighty, once in a while!

Do you remember God? Remember this: He has never forgotten you, nor cooled nor changed. It is not in His nature, and should be resisted in ours.

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A song that many people cite as describing their initial, impactful, encounter with the Living God, is “In the Garden,” sometimes called “I Come to the Garden Alone.” This year marks the centennial of several memorable events: the sinking of The Titanic, which will always be a compelling story; the exciting Bull Moose campaign of Theodore Roosevelt, a watershed in American history; and the composition of this precious gospel song. C. Austin Miles wrote “In the Garden” in 1912, and uncountable people have felt an affinity with its beautiful tune and narrative, over the ensuing century. In line with today’s message, note that the first line says, “I come to the Garden ALONE…” Showbiz aside, the Lord wants to meet us one-on-one. Lilacs, lupine, hydrangeas on all sides.

Click: In the Garden

6/3/2012

A few years ago when I lived in California, I helped organize retreats for the people in the office where I worked. Spiritual getaways, opportunities for refreshment. We availed ourselves of landmarks of the state’s rich heritage, and held them at ancient missions that dot the coast. Few of us were Catholic, but the solemnity and Christian dedication of these oases were special indeed.

Early settlers built a network of missions along the Pacific coast so that travelers could be within foot (or horse, or mule) distance of one day from mission to mission. Most still stand today, active as religious communities that also welcome visitors… including individuals or groups who want a place to worship God or meditate on the Word. My friends and I visited Mission San Luis Rey in Oceanside.

These experiences were so good for my soul that I gratefully learned about abbeys, fewer in number, also each hundreds of years old, that likewise welcomed visitors. The abbeys are more active religious communities, however; and conforming to the rules of the order was more of a requirement. I arranged to stay at the Benedictine Abbey of St Andrew in Valyermo. It was to be for three days, living, even dining, among the monks. Participation in worship was not required, but silence – one of the order’s strictures – was.

One has free run of the beautiful grounds, including the Stations of Cross, a precious tool to reflect on Christ’s sacrifices; and the abbey’s library. There was no “lights out” policy in the Spartan rooms, because there were no lights. But the library, with many volumes and a cozy fireplace, was open all night.

When I went to the abbey I was not enduring a spiritual crisis, but I needed refreshment (we all do, always; whether we realize it or not is the matter), and I arrived expecting all sorts of insights, breakthroughs, and revelations.

I received none. None that I hoped for, or expected. I was not disappointed, but I was confused. In the silence, I had expected to hear God’s voice, but I did not. In nature I expected to see Him more clearly, but I did not. In the solitude, I expected to be free to bump into God at every turn, but I did not.

Yet after three days, without insights, revelations, or breathroughs to headline a journaling page… I was closer to God than I ever had been.

I had the sense – a reminder, really – that a curse of modern life is that we often are too busy to meet God on His terms. In modern religion, we are taught to construct “expectations” and then devise ways to meet them, all the time thinking that such paradigms will please God. In modern spirituality, we tell ourselves that we are on progressive paths to know God better and better and better.

… where, sometimes, the stark realization that we cannot fully know Him, is to rediscover the sense of awe at His majesty, His omnipotence, and His mystery. We have lost a sense of God’s mystery. It does not threaten to make God more distant; it does, however, make Him more God-like to us. Our goal must not be to be God (if that were possible), but to be Children of God. We should not think we can be Christs, but we are instructed to be Imitators of Christ. Yes, it is one of our charges to “know God and make Him known,” but we cannot have a presumptuous attitude: if we fool ourselves into thinking we can know all there is to know about Him… there would no longer be a need to know Him.

I came to appreciate, not regret, that “space” between our knowledge of God and God Himself. It is not empty, as we sometimes fear, but is that mysterious zone where we can just stop and have reverence and awe and wonder at the unknowable power, and love, of God.

That mysterious zone, of course, is called faith.

Embrace its vastness, do not scurry to shrink it. Love the fact that God created and maintains it as a special gift for His children. To lose yourself in the mystery of real faith is to feel, to KNOW, that you are closer to Him than you can ever teach yourself to be, or work towards. To try is futile, to surrender is divine.

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Writing our stories into God’s song, BEING the glory of God, is the essence of Christa Wells’ moving song “How Emptiness Sings.” Let your tune resonate in the open spaces.

Click: How Emptiness Sings

4-9-12

Happy new year! That’s one way to feel about the first day after Easter. “He is risen!” “He is risen indeed!” is how Christians of the first centuries would exchange greetings. All things are made new, after the Resurrection. But then, every day should bring the realization of a new life in Christ!

I have been thinking of the first times I heard about Jesus. Too early to remember an exact day, because I was fortunate to be born into a family of believers. “Church-goers.” As a child I had a standard faith – I use the term because it was only in my twenties that I came to an intense, personal knowledge of biblical truth and relationship with Jesus: born again. Yet, early on, seeds were planted; Bible stories were told; verses were memorized; prayers were said; hymns were sung.

Seeds. A good metaphor at Springtime. Not many committed Christians in our culture can say that they only heard about Jesus for the first time in the their twenties or forties. (Hearing the “hard truth” of the Bible, in this culture, is another matter… for another discussion). But almost every new believer will say he or she “returned” to the faith. Seeds, when planted, sometimes lay dormant, but can always sprout.

A “standard” church-going kid, I went through my wise-guy period of rebellion against God in my high-school years. Never an atheist, I veered toward agnosticism, and yapped a lot of skepticism in classes and to friends.

In the cafeteria, there was a kid who was kind of a loner. Not the newspaper-headline kind of loner, just a guy who always pretty much kept to himself. He was a pudgy kid, I don’t think an object of bullying or anything, just kind of private. One day he called me over to where he was eating, alone. I never really had talked to John Frost (what were his parents thinking?) before then.

I remember being impressed, a really nice kid, good conversations, a clever guy. Before I knew it, as natural as anything, he was talking to me about Jesus. He shared a little, but no grilling of me, no “decision” challenge. Every once in a while, thereafter, we would share lunch – I’ll admit that he did more of the inviting than I did – I would share dessert, and he would share Jesus.

I will tell you that Johnny’s quiet witness, as we can call it, had a greater impact than the substance of what he said… or so it seemed to me. The fact that a stranger would do this, non-confrontationally, randomly, bravely, and – what else? – in the purest form of Christian love, impressed me. Later on, it inspired me. How to be gently bold.

Seeds. Can you remember who first told you about Jesus? Most likely it was a parent or grandparent (am I wrong to want to suggest “mother or grandmother”)? Was it a random song on the radio or Christian cartoon on TV? Was it a Sunday School teacher? Almost all of the “yes” answers would still have to trace back to parents who placed us in situations where we could see or hear… where seeds could be planted. Parents, take note.

I certainly can remember the first “hymn” I learned. It is still one of my favorites, not only because of its profound though simple message, but because it always transports me back. “Jesus Loves Me” puts me in the place where God first said Hello to me, where I had an inkling of a loving Savior, where I could believe that I belonged to Him, and where a book called the Bible could hold answers to my questions. Yes, Jesus loves me!

Is that song one of the “seeds” of your faith? Can you remember who first shared Jesus with you? And early, middle, or late in life, did someone else come alongside you to nourish those seeds? In my case, it was a guy named Johnny – a real Spring Frost; maybe an angel – who chatted comfortably about the greatest truths of history, and the neediest needs of my needy heart, in the corner of a high-school cafeteria.

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Click: Jesus Loves Me, This I Know

4-2-12

“Ecce homo!” Pontius Pilate stood on his balcony and addressed the blood-lusting crowd. “Behold the man!”

Without knowing it, Pilate was being theological. “The Son of Man” was how Scripture referred to the Christ; and so did Jesus, about Himself. “Fully God and fully man.”

More than theological, Pilate was attempting to be just plain logical. “Look at this man!” Pilate said, in effect. “This sorry, battered, silent, modest, individual… THIS is whose crucifixion you demand of me?”

In the words of The Living Bible (Matthew 27:24,25), Pilate had tried logical arguments… as far as his conscience would take him. He told the crowd: “I am innocent of this man’s blood. The responsibility is yours!” And all the people yelled back, “We will take responsibility for his death—we and our children!” [The original Greek the passage reads, “His blood be on us and on our children.”]

The Romans were masters of many things. Various manners and devices of torture were among them. When someone was flogged, the Romans used not a normal whip, but one with many leather straps. The flagellum had as many as 12 thongs. More, they had sharpened pieces of metal or bone woven into their ends. The effect was not whipping but scourging: the prisoner’s back was punctured, laced, and stripped of flesh. Romans knew their torture.

Before this, however, Jesus was subjected to beating and kicking. The crown of thorns was not made from rose-bush stems; the thorns were long and piercing, like filed nails, and this was pressed upon his head. Before this, He was dragged, humiliated, mocked, and spat upon.

The crucifixion, preceded by this tortured man carrying the heavy, splintery cross through the rocky streets of Jerusalem, was another Roman invention. Nails through the ankles and wrists (not the hands, forensics studies teach us, else the body’s weight would have pulled the spikes through the fingers) permitted the body to hang at the perfect angle to prolong life until suffocation of the lungs became the cause of death.

A pertinent fact about the suffering and death of Jesus is that most Roman prisoners condemned to death usually experienced one or maybe two of these trials… seldom all of them. It is plausible that Jesus suffered as much as any human being has ever endured before dying. “Behold the man.”

And yet the worst part of Jesus’ experience, I think, was the betrayal of friends, the rejection of those He came to save, the abandonment by His disciples. Let none of us, not you or me, ever think that WE would have been different; that we would have been with Him till the end. His followers lived with Him more than three years, and saw miracles, experienced His love. But they scattered like leaves in an Autumn breeze. Those whom He raised from the dead; the crippled whom He made walk; the blind who could now see… it is not recorded that they were at the foot of the cross. What significance that the two Marys – His mother; and the woman who received forgiveness of her sins – were there. Family and forgiveness of sins: a foundational lesson to take away from that Good Friday.

To segue again from the historical and logical to the theological, besides a few grieving friends, Roman guards, and the curious, someone else was at the foot of the cross that day.

It was you and me.

We were not there physically, of course, but Jesus saw us. He looked down and looks at you and me. He looks through our eyes into our hearts. He sees our shortcomings and sins. But that look on His face said to us, “I am doing this for you. Whatever separation you have created for yourself by sinning against God does not have to condemn you any more! The old practices of blood-offerings and sacrifices for sins are over. Now. Believe in me as the Son of God, and accept this sacrifice.” Behold THAT Man.

I also believe, impossible as it would have been, that if all humankind up to that moment had been sinless – that if you or I had been the only sinners in God’s creation – that Jesus Christ still would have willingly gone to the cross. He knew what He was doing. After all, the Bible says that He was the agent of Creation, that through Him all things were made. He knew the plan… and He was willing to fulfill it. For you and me.

Behold that MAN.

The old spiritual, “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?” has countless verses, the traditional call-out structure that has resonated in worship songs among slaves, in bluegrass versions by singers like Wade Mainer, in folk renditions by Johnny Cash and others, touching millions.

Were you there? You were. Just as Jesus has been with us at all the times of our lives. Sometimes it causes me to tremble…

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This version of the old spiritual plaintively is sung a cappella by Russ Taff and a choir; with stark images from The Passion.

Click here: Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?

3-5-12

This week Andrew Breitbart died. Wait, he didn’t just die; it is reported that the 43-year-old “dropped dead while walking outside his house” in Los Angeles. Hyperactive to the last minute, his friends – and opponents – cannot imagine a news cycle these days without his influence.

He was a political activist. Wait, he was more than that: a provocateur, a professional blogger (having helped jump-start the Drudge Report and the Huffington Post before his array of “Big” Breitbart news aggregation sites), the guy behind the expose´ of ACORN and Congressman Anthony Weiner. Unlike most commentators who have reviewed his Roman-candle career, we would like to examine not what he was, but how he got there.

Breitbart was reared by adoptive parents in tony celebrity neighborhoods around Hollywood. He attended Tulane University because of, not despite, its reputation as the nation’s Number One party school. He was a social and political liberal, poster boy of excess. But he followed the news. When Clarence Thomas was nominated to the Supreme Court, Andrew watched the hearings and thought a decent man was the victim of what Thomas himself characterized as a “high-tech lynching” because he was Christian and conservative.

Andrew’s worldview turned on a dime. A natural contrarian, perhaps, he viewed political correctness as a putative form of censorship; he espied a cultural war on Christians (even if some Christians did not) and traditional American values; and he enlisted, often as an army of one, in the fight to redeem the culture. He got involved in politics, the media, entertainment, and business. As a human whirlwind, in a few years he inspired liberals to become conservatives, secularists to become crusaders, the indolent to become activists, defeatists to become optimists.

But our look at his life is not about his politics, but his passion. Sometimes wild-eyed and wild-haired, he was a “gonzo” journalist. He said things, and showed up places, and pushed ideas that “normal” people don’t. Thank God for “abnormal,” passion-filled, warriors who believe what they do… and do what they believe. They populate lists of martyrs, and they substitute for the timid amongst us.

They say that converts make the most rabid believers, whether in religion or the realms of addictions. Breitbart converted – a congenital self-assured type, he was open to truth, and converted without ever looking back.

Wait, it wasn’t just him. His father-in-law experienced a similar conversion. Same paradigm, different story, same family. Orson Bean is the famous polymath – actor, comedian, author, raconteur – who has been a show-biz fixture since the 1950s. Movies: Anatomy of a Murder; Being John Malkovich. Stage: Never Too Late; Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? TV: hundreds of appearances on The Tonight Show and To Tell The Truth, also The Twilight Zone; Desperate Housewives. Recordings: Charlie Brown in You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown. Books: M@il for Mikey.

Breitbart’s father-in-law Orson Bean has recounted his own conversion, from a blacklisted actor to a familiar face; from obsessions with sex, alcohol, and drugs to being “clean”; from a trendy scoffer to a born-again Christian. His is a great story, one he recounted in the extremely engaging book, M@il for Mikey.

Wait. If a Christian-conversion story can ever be “normal,” Orson’s is not one of those. We hear many converts say that they developed an “emptiness within,” or created a “void” in their souls by their choices. Orson has a very different, and very unique variation – blue-ribbon theology from this vaunted wit: In a column he wrote called “An Emptiness Only the Holy Spirit Can Fill” (for one of the Breitbart sites!) he posited:

“[When people have used up the temporary highs of sex and drugs and booze and fame and wealth,] they’re still left with a hole in the middle of them that the Creator stuck there, knowing that eventually they’d feel the urge to fill it and do what they had to do to seek Him out.”

In other words, God PUTS this void, this longing, this emptiness in us all… so that we will seek Him. It’s like the Andre Crouch line about Without problems, we couldn’t know how to solve them. It’s like the evangelists’ plea not to be jealous of angels, because they can never know what it is like to be redeemed, to see the light, to convert, to gain a passion, to know what Amazing Grace is.

One of Orson Bean’s revelations came through reading C S Lewis’ Mere Christianity. Another astounding exegetical book of the 20th century is John Stott’s Basic Christianity, a similar book of intellectual blessing. As quoted in a recent issue of Trak Magazine, Stott once said:

“Every Christian should be both conservative and radical; conservative in preserving the faith, and radical in applying it.”

My friend Dan Kimball loves holding up the Ramones as a band, less concerned with success than the sheer joy of making music. Passion! So was the free-spirit Orson Bean in sharing Christ: conservative, radical, passionate. So was his son-in-law Andrew Breitbart, on fire in everything he did, from national issues to texting friends about movies.

So was Jesus. Conservative and radical. And passionate enough to stick it to evil and sin and death, to virtually climb up onto the dirty cross and die for us.

Wait: Jesus’ death substituted for us, but God forbid that we let His love and commitment substitute for our own passions and actions. Get out there! Have you been converted? Do it!

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Orson Bean is even careful to specify Jesus, not Father God (Who sent His Son for this reason) as the answer to the “hole in the middle of us all.”

Click: There’s Just Something About That Name

2-13-12

A political season can get people thinking about promises – promises for the future (by candidates we like) and the potential of broken promises (by those whom we don’t). When I was a kid I wrote a fan letter to Walt Kelly, the cartoonist of “Pogo,” who sent a drawing of Albert the Alligator’s platform as a political advisor: “I promise you voters to not promise anything. And if I do make a promise, I promise not to keep it.”

That would be refreshing, really. But the problem with promises is not politics or politicians – it’s human nature; which, I promise you, will never change on its own.

Truth is something we all must confront, and deal with. Even Pontius Pilate, yielding to public pressure, desperately trying by symbolism to wash his hands of the guilty act of condemning an innocent man to die, looked at Jesus, probably knowing better than the mob did Whom he addressed. He asked, “What is Truth?” People don’t ask such questions of criminals or strangers or even politicians, of Pilate’s day or our own day.

One aspect of human nature is that when we are confronted with Truth, it frequently is our tendency not to change ourselves or our habits, but to bend truth, explain it away, weaken it, even deny it. Heretics through the history of Christianity, “relativists” in philosophy, and leaders of the Emergent movement on the fringes of today’s religion, all have tacked adjectives to the word “truth.” They give us relational truth, conditional truth, relative truth… everything except the firmly rejected Absolute Truth. Which the Bible teaches. And what God IS. And what Jesus embodied – “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.”

I have noticed that a lot of Christians can be timid about the truth, and frequently they justify it by not wanting to offend non-believers. Some even think that being too bold with the truth about God – maybe at first, anyway – might alienate prospective Christians. “Meet them at the their level,” because, after all, doesn’t God say He loves us just as we are? … and pretty soon, the well-meaning Christian is the enabler of sin and a rebellious lifestyle, instead of speaking the truth.

If someone were to approach you on the street, and say, “Sic enim dilexit Deus mundum ut Filium suum unigenitum daret ut omnis qui credit in eum non pereat sed habeat vitam aeternam,” chance are you would not know what the person said. I wouldn’t. How about if someone in the supermarket called to you, “Denn so hat Gott die Welt geliebt, daß er seinen eingeborenen Sohn gab, damit jeder, der an ihn glaubt, nicht verloren gehe, sondern ewiges Leben habe!” it probably would not be much different. Are they asking a question, telling a joke, or cursing at you? Then you get a phone call: “Car Dieu a tant aimé le monde qu’il a donné son Fils unique, afin que quiconque croit en lui ne périsse point, mais qu’il ait la vie éternelle.”

Well, these are the Latin, German, and French translations of John 3:16. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life.” If you went to Sunday School, if you watch football games on TV, you know the verse. Do you know it in Latin?

It makes no difference whether you understand it or not: it is still true.

And this is a lesson for how you and I should relate to non-believers. Some Christian counselors dismiss bad behavior, for fear of offending those who need help. Some youth workers try to dress and talk and act like adolescents, subconsciously (or maybe quite deliberately) thinking that they have found a way to reach kids that is better than sharing God’s truth. No: we should speak the truth, and the Holy Spirit takes over when the seed is planted – part of the job description.

Most of us live on smaller stages, but we should remember that when St Paul explained that he was willing to be “all things to all people,” he didn’t mean compromising his faith; he meant that, unlike haughty priests, he knew it was necessary to meet everyone where they were, literally. He “spoke Greek to Greeks,” and showed up in front of pagan temples – not to join in their rituals but to share Jesus with people who would never otherwise hear such words.

Likewise, Jesus Himself. He had fellowship with Mary Magdalene, and the woman at the well, not to have sex but to discuss their sins. Not even to condemn, but to forgive. But He did not “accept” them “where they were” in terms of accepting their transgressions. Just the opposite. Jesus was, and is, quick and hard with the Truth. “Sin no more.”

If we do less – whether confronting our own sins; or the sometimes excruciating obligation to share the gospel with others; or in confronting integrity in national debates – if we do less, we fail not by slight degrees, but miserably.

For then we brand ourselves as “half-truthers,” which is tradition’s polite term for liars. All things to all people? Unless you define it as Paul did… far better it is to be one thing to the One God. If truth be told.

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Truth does not vary according to the audience or the culture or the times. That is the definition of truth. Like a rock. Not just as a last refuge but a first affection, we should cling to the Rock of Ages. Here some Homecoming singers at the Cove, Billy Graham’s conference center, gathered to sing the classic hymn. Sitting next to Gloria Gaither that day, under a portrait of Billy Graham, was Billy’s late wife Ruth.

Click: All Things To All People

1-9-12

It’s all over the news now, the disparity between the “99 per cent” and the “One per cent” – or, rather, the resentment and envy that the majority is supposed to harbor against the more wealthy. It is at the core of the “Occupy” crowds’ chants and signs.

Theodore Roosevelt correctly observed that the sin of envy is no less a sin than that of greed. And years ago, a friend from France once gave me the best definition of Socialism (therefore, its most potent pushback). Francois Mitterand had been elected president in his country; the Socialists were coming to power; and among their proposals, in the name of equality, was the abolition of First-Class seats on public transportation.

“Why is it that the Socialists never want to abolish anything that is second-class?” my friend asked.

That riposte has come to mind when hearing so often lately of the Ninety-Nine versus the One per cents. “Versus” is the operative word; a campaign to raise the civic temperature. But something else has come to mind – that Jesus had a different take on the numbers of 99 and one. Nothing to do with current politics… except as those numbers provide a shout-out to our souls.

Let us remember Christ’s parable of the Lost Sheep. It is found in Luke 15:4-7. The gentle shepherd had a flock of 100, but one had gone astray. And he set out to search, high and low, far and wide, for that wayward sheep. The sheep was found, rescued, and restored to the shepherd’s flock.

Many of us have the natural reaction to think that the sensible thing would have been to play safe with the ninety-nine. A similar impulse, in the other parable of the Prodigal Son, is to observe that the other son was slighted after all of his work and obedience, while his errant brother was feted by the father upon his return.

Our problem as humans is that we tend to see ourselves as members of the flock of ninety-nine. “What is one sheep against so many?” We get proud of our accomplishments, jealous of others receiving favor. Our bigger problem is that God sees us as that Lost Sheep, and the son who departed and sinned – not as we see ourselves.

Heaven rejoices when one sinner is saved, when the Good Shepherd has restored the wayward. Our Heavenly Father arranges a lavish feast when we return. In each case we are not rewarded for straying: we are forgiven when we return.

“Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine–
Are they not enough for Thee?”
But the Shepherd made answer, “This of Mine
Has wandered away from Me;
And although the road be rough and steep
I go to the desert to find My sheep.”

Jesus not only seeks us out; He persists. For us to be as THAT “one percenter” we should be grateful… and can take assurance. Occupy God’s flock.

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“The Ninety and Nine” was written as a children’s poem by Elizabeth Clephane in 1868. The great hymn-writer Ira D Sankey read it when on a Dwight L Moody crusade in Scotland years later; he tucked it into his vest pocket. That evening Moody preached on “The Good Shepherd,” and asked Sankey, his worship leader, to sing a hymn. Sankey remembered that poem in his pocket, took it out, and sang this song impromptu, forming the music as he went. It is now a standard of the church.

Click: The Ninety and Nine

1-2-12

Another year, another celebration, another “back to work.” Yet if we can remind ourselves each morning that “this is the day that the Lord has made,” we can take a fresh look at 2012 and declare, “This is the year that the Lord has made!”

Let us be glad and rejoice in it!

The Year of the Lord Two Thousand Twelve. Are there challenges that loom up to the left and right? It Dozen matter! And are you one of the folks who make resolutions every New Year? If rules are made to be broken, many of our resolutions seem made to be… postponed.

Well, not surprisingly, the Bible provides all the Resolutions we need to face the new year, day by day:

1 I am the Lord your God… You shall have no other gods before Me.
2 You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything… For I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God….
3 You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes His name in vain.
4 Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.
5 Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your God is giving you.
6 You shall not murder.
7 You shall not commit adultery.
8 You shall not steal.
9 You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.
10 You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife… nor anything that is your neighbor’s. (Exodus 20:2-17 NKJV)

Most of us have problems with long lists. Jesus knew this, and whether He was announcing the cancellation of the Law – since He was its fulfillment – or wisely providing us with spiritual Cliff’s Notes, the better for us to obey and practice, He gave us two Resolutions we can adopt:

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. (Matthew 22:37-40)

Two for Twelve. Happy New Year!

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And to the extent we are able to follow these commandments, keep these resolutions, we must remember that obedience is due to God. Commandments are more for our well-being than for God’s dispensation of gold stars. It is His grace, not our works, that bring favor in His sight. His Amazing Grace. Whenever you need an emotional nudge as a reminder, watch this video – a large orchestra, starting with a pennywhistle, a violin, a bagpipe, then hundreds of bagpipes performing before tens of thousands of worshipers in Berlin. Andre Rieu at a nighttime outdoor concert.

Click: Amazing Grace

11-14-11

Lunatics are running the asylum. Having been in the humor business most of my life, I feel like it is becoming difficult to be more outrageous than reality. Last week I had an accident when I sneezed while driving. After the police showed up and made their report, I was charged with Driving Under the Influenza. No, not really, but things have almost gotten that absurd.

On the serious side, we see the economies of the world crumbling before our eyes. The distress of mighty nations and powerful leaders affects each of us in the smallest compartments of our lives… and it will get worse. The Penn State scandal, a cancerous obscenity at every level we know of (and probably more details to follow) is, sadly, an age-old story of personal sin, and of moral cowardice on the part of others who might have intervened. Yet the twist of contemporary American culture is thousands of students rioting because their idol of a coach – a false idol, clearly, as guilty as clergymen who cover up for fellow pedophiles – is reprimanded for complicity in molestation. “Building men” on the field, and letting boys be destroyed in the locker room.

Elsewhere in the news, the “Occupy” movement, to me, is partly humorous and partly troubling. Add partly offensive. Which adds up to totally dangerous. I feel like a latter-day Rip Van Winkle – where have these unwashed, hirsute, malodorous hordes been until two months ago? Are they some new species, a “42-year locust”? The Sixties are repeating on us, like a side dish of rancid sauerkraut.

Less amusing (?) is the lack of discourse in what purports to be a protest movement. Beating drums, robot-like chanting, three murders, rapes, vandalism, defecation on sidewalks and on police car hoods, public intercourse, intimidation of pedestrians… these are not traditional seeds of economic reform. But these are new times. Maybe end times.

Then there is the dangerous aspect, that the cultural establishment and a portion of the political elite regard these folks as modern Washingtons. They aren’t Washing-anythings. But the Occupy movement might well become the tail that wags the dog of political debate in this country. And just as financial thievery in exalted boardrooms can affect our own kitchen pantries… so can lice-infested rabble in city parks affect mighty governments and their agencies. It surely is possible.

I have a friend who equates a proposal to eliminate food stamps as a willingness to watch millions of Americans starve to death. Hyperbole masquerades as propositional truth every day these days. But in a democratic republic, Theodore Roosevelt reminded us, the sin of envy is as evil as the sin of greed. And when Christ adjured us to “render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s,” he did NOT want believers to surrender to the government our charitable impulses nor our responsibility personally to care for the sick and needy.

On television we see street riots in Oakland, in Rome, in Greece… and we are reminded that “democracy,” a word with Greek roots, was to be avoided, as a step preceding mob rule.

Occupy Wall Street. Occupy banks. Occupy cities. Occupy parliaments. Let us, as Christians, as we are concerned with justice, and work as representatives of Jesus in this world, remember at the same time to be concerned with the ultimate activism – that we Occupy Heaven.

Instead of changing people’s hearts, many well-meaning churchgoers – and a lot of ill-intentioned political thugs – would rather pick people’s pockets. Of course, the hearts we should most be concerned with changing are our own. We can miss Heaven by scheming for worldly solutions to spiritual problems. But by holding high the Cross, in our hearts as well as in society, we can storm Heaven’s gates, some day as redeemed and sanctified children of God, to Occupy Heaven.

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It is the desire of God’s heart that we Occupy Heaven. For those who accept Christ, there are no “off-limits signs,” or “No Trespassing” rules. There is not only a way to Heaven, but a Highway to Heaven. Here is the rousing gospel song, exciting a staid British audience, by Jessy Dixon.

Click: The Highway to Heaven

10-31-11

Oft times, when we are in deepest state of anguish before the Lord, or attempting to draw closer and closer, and closer, to Him, we cry out for Him to examine our hearts.

There are times – precious few, in some of our cases – when we feel, not prideful or self-righteous, but close to Jesus in love and devotion. We want Him to search our souls, to see that we love Him as we never have, that our repentance is real and our dedication is pure. We can never reach these spiritual levels apart from the Holy Spirit, and we ask the Spirit to bring us to the Throne of Grace and address God in these ways.

At these passionate moments we feel like inviting God to plumb our innermost thoughts… but at the same time we dare ourselves to be worthy.

We must always be mindful that our righteousness is like dirty rags to a Holy God. We must be secure that we will never exhibit a “shadow of turning.” Matthew Henry once cautioned: “The heart, the conscience of man, in his corrupt and fallen state, is deceitful above all things. It calls evil good, and good evil…. the heart is desperately wicked; it is deadly, it is desperate…. We cannot know our own hearts, nor what they will do in an hour of temptation.… Yet whatever wickedness there is in the heart, God sees it. Men may be imposed upon, but God cannot be deceived.”

So we must proceed carefully! The spiritual pitfalls do not make this spiritual attitude toward God spiritually futile. Holiness and purity must be our goals. But awareness of the inclinations of human nature should keep us in the Word, and reliant on the Holy Spirit.

“I the Lord search the heart and test the mind, to give every man according to his ways, according to the fruit of his deeds.” – Jeremiah 17:10

The real truth is that God is searching our hearts always, and testing our minds, anyway. So an attitude of inviting God “in” is useful, and humbling, and spiritually disciplining.

But it is probably better that we devote ourselves, first, to our knowing God’s heart.

It is more important to our faith than God knowing our hearts.

Understanding God’s heart, and ways, and will, is essential before our own hearts can approach any state of preparation to invite God’s examination. Without seeking His heart we cannot know how to reach that point. Without knowing His heart we cannot find our own, to have that Closer Walk with Him.

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Click: Just a Closer Walk With Thee

10-17-11

Rational discourse in America seems to be an endangered species. Activists should be working to preserve Logic, not only snail darters and old trees; and if we were to rescue Reason it might become easier to rescue unborn babies.

Look at all the stuff in the news these days. People proclaim their “rights” when they don’t acknowledge anything as wrong. TV interviewers answer their own questions before they ask them. Interview subjects routinely answer questions that are not asked. The “Occupy” mobs are walking oxymorons: they shout “Anarchists Unite!” and they are endorsed by politicians whose policies the protestors supposedly despise. Circular illogic. Rationality has moved and left no forwarding address.

Common Sense is, itself, a member of those Unemployment Figures we hear about. The current flap over Mitt Romney’s Mormonism and other candidates’ opinions of it – and issues surrounding their own faiths – blow across the landscape like a big sand storm, blinding everyone in its path.

It all is characteristic of our contemporary culture’s moral confusion and intellectual cowardice. Mitt Romney is a Mormon, in fact descended from church hierarchy; being an overseas missionary and relatives recently living in Mormon “communities” in Mexico are part of his resume. A large number of Christians are curious or suspicious – or outright reject – a religion with core beliefs that are separate from the Old and New Testaments; with practices that are airlock-secret; with recent tenets that include denigration of blacks and women, and the embrace of polygamy.

Now that Mormons are running for president, Christians are thinking about Mormonism in the same way (maybe more carefully) that they consider candidates’ positions on, say, the capital gains tax, or free trade with Southeast Asian nations. Many are saying “I would not feel comfortable voting for a man who believes those things.” Or, maybe, “I would not feel comfortable with the kind of man who could believe those things.” It is reasonable to reach such conclusions, and is legal to state them. But it is being called bigotry.

Christians who decline to vote for Mormons do not confess to hatred, nor to anti-Mormon laws nor persecution nor deportation. They just declare they will vote for another person. If some use the word “cult,” it should be recognized that for decades evangelicals and Pentecostals have taught that cults are non-Christian sects that were started by, or still revolved around, an individual human. That would be Joseph Smith, in the case of the Mormons. No one claims that Mitt Romney is going to command his followers to drink Kool-Aid en masse. Objections to someone using the term “cult” over-reach.

There are tender threads of reason and clarity that might redeem a controversy that should not be a controversy.

1. The Mormons are in a horrible dander that people do not recognize them as Christians. “Look, our name is ‘Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints,” said John Huntsman, rolling his eyes in a “duh” response about LDS. A movement that believes what it does about multiple gods, and the afterlife, and Jesus’ appearances on earth, and so forth, ought to be able to understand the reservations of traditional Christians, especially when all of Mormonism’s tenets are not even shared outside LDS. If the Mormons can disavow the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (the sect of Warren Jeffs, convicted polygamist and child rapist) as a distorted off-spin of LDS, why cannot Christians be free to regard Mormonism as a distorted off-spin of biblical Christianity?

2. When Michele Bachmann’s traditional Lutheran synod holds to ancient characterizations of the Pope, the media called its members bigots; the implication being that other voters should reject members of that denomination. But when citizens decline to vote for a Mormon because of its beliefs… they are the ones labeled incipient bigots. The only constant, if you will notice, is that Christians are always painted as the nasty haters. Millions of liberals reject any candidate who opposes abortions, but they are never portrayed as haters or bigots in the press.

3. If it is bigotry to act, as a citizen, according to your convictions, then how soon do the Thought Police arrive, and how will they punish our opinions? And what a topsy-turvy world this has become. Christians are being murdered and sentenced to death for their faith in Pakistan, our ally. There are no Christians churches left, all having been closed or razed, in Afghanistan, another ally. In Iraq, after thousands of Americans died and billions of American dollars spent, two-thirds of a substantial Christian population have fled the country because of persecution, or have been murdered for their faith. All subsequent to Saddam Hussein. We can look at our ally Egypt, too, where since the Arab Spring, Christians churches have been invaded and Christians attacked, sometimes with the Army watching, sometimes by the Army. And the US Administration reserves its policy objections and sanctions for other countries, other causes.

The relation to the Mormon controversy, so-called? The media would paint those who decline to vote for an LDS candidate as virtual Taliban Trainees. In truth it is the opposite. Clarity of Thought informs Responsibility to Act, which both undergird the Duty to Vote, all of which are necessary prerequisites of Freedom of Religion. The Thought Police, with their Compassion meters, would strip-search everyone’s standards and consciences at the curtain of every voting machine.

Mormons are free to run for office in America. Who questions that? Nobody. And the rest of us are free to vote. Or not to vote. And, for the moment, we are still free to think.

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A traditional hymn of the church is here sung by the boys’ choir Libera. As we have noted, traditional, evangelical, and Pentecostal Christians seem to be the culture’s last remaining faith to denigrate. Any exercise of their own biblical beliefs is routinely called “hate speech.” This hymn is from a time when Christians asserted themselves more bravely and with assurance, not from hatred of men but love of God.

Click: Onward, Christian Soldiers

10-3-11

It is a good thing to remember things we celebrate, especially the words and phrases surrounding them, at times of the year not associated with them. And I don’t mean “Christmas in July” used-car sales. Every day of the year we should be astonished anew by the Easter story, the miracle of the Resurrection. Or by the powerful mystery of God’s intervention in the course of the history and in the lives of His children, to become flesh and dwell among us, which deserves better than to be categorized as a theme of Christmas time. The “fact” of it, and the “why” of it, should be cause for daily, not yearly, celebration.

In the secular world, our civic life, the same threat of lassitude exists. We relegate so many observances and speeches about the American Revolution (if noted at all) to the Fourth of July, that we tend to consider the topic covered for the rest of the year. This penchant unplugs the healthy recollection of our heritage’s great audacity, however, and can suck the life out of patriotism.

The Founders did not merely want to be independent of England. It was about more than import duties and having a voice in the British parliament. Christian Patriots caught fire. They realized that America, a land set apart, could be a society set apart too: the world’s first experiment in self-government, a Republic (not a democracy, which is a subject for a thousand posts), and, when we read the documents of the time, a civil society built along biblical principles. Even “deists” – fewer in number than modern textbooks claim – looked to the Bible for blueprints.

Revolution? Jefferson wrote, “The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.” Significantly, he wrote this after the Constitution had been adopted.

These concepts have spiritual connotations and implications. For instance, the Roman lawyer Tertullian, after his conversion, defended persecuted Christians in Nero’s time, defiantly saying, “We multiply whenever we are mown down by you; the blood of Christians is seed.”

That the American Revolutionaries were largely of the comfortable classes – merchants, traders, lawyers, landowners – is instructive. They had grown prosperous during British rule. They easily could have remained comfortable without rocking the boat. The lower classes, no less freedom-loving, might be seen as having “nothing to lose” by rebellion. Yet patriots of all stripes knew what was at stake. They were willing to lose their comfort, their relative freedoms, indeed their heads, if they lost… or even during the precarious process of winning.

This stark choice was not a hazy implication of their actions. They boldly closed the Declaration of Independence with the famously defiant pledge: “With a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.”

What Tertullian said of early martyrs, and Jefferson said of citizen patriots, must be the standard of today’s Christians. We must be willing to give all and lose all for the sake of the gospel; to spend and be spent, and to realize that persecution in some degree and at some time will visit us.

Some colonial patriots did lose their homes, businesses, and lives. What did it gain them? The answer is, knowledge of worthy sacrifice for a noble ideal, and liberty for their fellow citizens and descendants. What do Christians gain by “losing all”? That answer is, gaining Heaven.

But then, in one of the Bible’s puzzling points, we occasionally read that the saints who “go before” can gain treasures in Heaven; some will have “crowns.” Do we serve Christ in order to win gifts and prizes in the afterlife? No! This is one of the great truths of the end times – In Revelation 4, verses 4, 10 and 11, we read, “And round about the throne were four and twenty seats: and upon the seats I saw four and twenty elders sitting, clothed in white raiment; and they had on their heads crowns of gold. The four and twenty elders fall down before Him that sat on the throne, and worship Him that liveth for ever and ever, and cast their crowns before the throne, saying, Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honor and power: for Thou hast created all things, and for Thy pleasure they are and were created.”

In other words, we gain all – eternity with Christ – by losing all. And if God graces some souls with “crowns” for having served Him in special ways, we will want immediately to lay them back at His feet!

Truly it takes losing it all, and being willing to lose all, in order to gain everything. That is true in a nation, and it is true in a kingdom – God’s kingdom. Let us appreciate that truth on more days than patriotic holidays, and at more times than in occasional sermons. It is how we should conduct our lives, daily.

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This video features the great Jessy Dixon, gospel singer, songwriter, and preacher, who died this week. The song is “I Have Everything,” precisely to our theme today. His amazing performances will be missed – what a talent he had.

Click: I Have Everything

9-19-11

My granddaughter Elsie was dedicated this weekend. Since I was not able to attend – partly because she is in Northern Ireland and I am not – Emily and Norman did the next best thing these days: hooked up a Skype connection. The ceremony “streamed live,” and when I was asked to pray, a microphone was held to my spectral, flickering image. I am not sure the people in the church could hear (in fact I heard only every fifth word or so of theirs), but we all know that God did. I got to wondering: would the 120 have gathered in the Upper Room if there had been Skype 2000 years ago?

The screen has become a part of our lives now. Tekkies tell us that, soon, smart-phone screens will substitute for computer screens, and soon will projected onto walls, even to handle touch-screen capabilities once projected. (In the meantime, of course, it took me 20 minutes to remember how to charge the laptop’s batteries…)

In recent history, much of my supposed field, popular culture, essentially has been related to the small screen. Even our political history. Richard Nixon might have been kicked off Dwight Eisenhower’s presidential ticket in 1952, but for the “Checkers Speech” he made on TV (decades later my mother still grew misty-eyed, recalling that piece of political theater). Eight years later, radio listeners to the Nixon-Kennedy debates rated Nixon the winner; but on TV he came across as sweaty, shifty-eyed, and dark (here merely was ill, warm, and had a five-o’clock shadow)… and such was the power of TV that Kennedy narrowly won that election. It has always been my opinion that much of the American public and even a lot of Ronald Reagan’s supporters viewed him as an overly amiable “aw, shucks” guy, until one night in the 1980 primaries, a moderator tried to shut off Reagan’s microphone in a hall he had rented. The Gipper angrily shouted, “I’m PAYING for this microphone, Mr Breen!” Even Reagan’s political rivals broke out in applause; and I remember thinking, “THAT’s how he’ll face down the Soviets.” I think America saw him differently too, because of a TV moment.

Last week a similar moment happened. I doubt whether history will turn on the exchange… but for one moment the crux of the Great Debate of the 20th century, and the American government’s fate in the 21st, was in the headlights. Then things moved on, maybe never to be raised again. It was a moment in the Republican debate when moderator Wolf Blitzer asked a hypothetical health-care question of the only doctor on stage, Ron Paul. If a healthy man who chose not to buy insurance got very sick, “are you saying that society should just let him die?”

I am not making a brief for a candidate, believe me: The response was mechanistic, not theological. However, Rep. Paul spoke some common sense when he recalled that he began his medical practice before the days of Medicare and Medicaid. He never turned a patient away, and never knew a hospital to do so. “What about family, friends, and churches?” he asked rhetorically. Is that a heartless attitude… or is it biblical?

Statistics indicate that Americans bestow more charity than do citizens of most other nations; that Christians donate more than people of other faiths; that conservatives are far more generous than liberals, along these lines. This is instructive, especially in the face of concerted campaigns to the contrary. That is, there are serious political efforts to end tax deductions for charitable contributions, and since the New Deal, we are confronted with philosophies that attempt to have government substitute for private charity.

The dilemma is not, of course, whether to render assistance. It is co-opting the impulse behind it, making war on our freedoms of conscience and action. When government “takes care of the poor,” we don’t have to, is the general proposition: that is the mindset of the modern state. Whether the poor, or sick, or homeless, are measurably assisted, is actually an open question (poverty rates have changed little since the Great Society) – but many people’s consciences are deadened “because the government will take care of the needy.” And this is apart from the question of whether it is moral to coerce one person here to support the children of another person there; or a woman from, say, Arizona to have to pay for the surgery of a man from, say, Maine. Eventually, citizens will be unable on their own to assist folks when they hear about children needing assistance, or surgical procedures requiring help. Already 1.75 citizens supports one Social Security beneficiary, and then we start adding Medicare, Medicaid, welfare, disaster relief, foreign aid…

Years ago I was impressed, when reading St Augustine’s Confessions, how he regarded charity. He quoted Christ’s words, “the poor ye shall always have with you,” and explained this otherwise enigmatic verse. Augustine identified with the poor, in part because Christ did, and he was extraordinarily active on their behalf. Augustine had a vision of corrupt man as someone who, despite our best intentions, keeps returning to self. He warned in the same vein against a circular form of love where even acts of charity were futile if divorced from the love and will of God.

“Anonymous” charity – that is, actions devoid of love; empty – is self-absorbing at best, and an offense to God at worst. For Augustine came to realize, through the humility to which the Cross inevitably brings us, that an act of charity (that word is also translated as “love”) is a godly construct. The poor, who we will always have with us, inspire us to imitate Christ in their care… and that pleases God.

That the humility, even the shame, of the Cross, takes us (drags us?) to more of an outwardly focused life, is the essence of the fulfilled believer’s life on earth. We evolve from awareness to compassion to identification to brokenness with the hurting, needy, and dependent. Which is, of course, our state too. Even when we are in Christ – I say, even MORE so, when we are in Christ – we must practice sacrificial love, tender mercy, and authentic assistance.

“That TV moment” I mentioned above is when political types, and TV watchers, had a chance to think about the drift – more like a tsunami – of the past several generations. It is mighty hard to maintain the impulse of individual response, when the “world system” keeps saying it is not our job, but theirs. St Augustine seemed to be looking 1600 years into the future when he wrote, “Woe to the soul which supposes it will find something better if it forsakes You!”

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Casting Crowns and the Beanscot Channel combine for a simple but powerful lesson drawn from true “Christian Charity” – with Christ in our hearts we trust Him more; and with Christ in our hearts we do His will more willingly.

Click: It’s So Sweet To Trust in Jesus

(Last week’s music was from an ancient opera, Dido and Aeneas by Henry Purcell, which prompted a few questions about a “pagan” theme. First, I offered it with a Christian application, but [“full circle”] St Augustine himself is thought to have patterned the structure, not the contents, of his Confessions after The Aeneid. And Virgil, of course, patterned his epic after Homer’s Odyssey. And my point was that the nation of America, like the character Dido, is appropriate for a Lament to be sung.)

8-22-11

I currently am reading Timothy Keller’s book The Reason for God – rather overdue on my part – and enjoying his manner of sharing the Gospel with his congregation at Redeemer Church in Manhattan. “Enjoying” is an insufficient description – I am intrigued, challenged, provoked.

The book wastes no pages before listing Keller’s responses to contemporary culture’s main “problems” with what he calls his orthodox Christianity: hewing to scripture, stressing personal salvation, the centrality of Jesus. Many of the questions he confronts are variations of a basic challenge to the existence of God Himself. It is not new; it has been asked by skeptics, non-believers, and anguished doubters throughout history. “How can I believe in a God who…”. The sentences end with questions about “allowing” sickness, “overseeing” brokenness and hatred, “watching Christians kill each other.”

Keller brilliantly parries the arguments of those who claim a better, or “higher,” morality than the Bible’s; and who maintain that the natural state of the universe, and the universe’s inhabitants, can admit to no God of any sort.

I would like to linger a moment at what I feel is a proper response to the traps and trappings of a culture that tries to wash God out of the fabric of society, which is a related topic. Many well-meaning Christians are seduced by the argument that we are so inferior to a Just and All-Powerful God that we must, therefore, feel inferior to an indiscriminate degree, and adopt inferiority in all manners. This attitude is not humility, but error. It can make people insecure about their standing as children of God; it can make them susceptible to arguments for a more “logical” conception of God. And this, after all, is the oldest lie in the Book.

It could be that contemporary culture’s problem is not a faulty belief in God, but a mistaken understanding that He believes in US. Of course I do not mean that He has abdicated His throne. But He believes that we can overcome, we can be more than conquerors, we are citizens of Heaven.

We can know this is true because, when we have accepted Jesus into our hearts, God does not see us any more in our sins. He sees Jesus instead, the Jesus within us.

God does not look upon our dirty rags. He sees the blood shed on the cross, under which we are covered.

God does not dither over our quirks, transgressions, and shortcomings. If we are truly repentant and are born again, He sees the Holy Spirit that lives within us. That is why God sent the Holy Ghost!

When we spiritually see God’s viewpoint aright, we should be embarrassed ever again to do other than to boldly approach the Throne of Grace. Not to presume upon God, but to recognize our status as joints heirs with Christ!

How many Christians spend a lot of the their prayer life (or abandon it altogether!) reminding God over and over and over again of things He has already forgotten! For when we repent in the name of our elder brother Jesus, God has said He will throw our sins into the Sea of Forgetfulness.

Does God believe in US? The plan of salvation, the work of the cross, and the gift of the Holy Spirit, would be wasted if He did not! Strive to be worthy, and claim your inheritance!

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Click: God Believes In You

7-25-11

“Where sin abounds, grace abounds even more.”

The horrific events in Oslo this week are different from similar atrocities, perhaps in severity and maybe in scope, than others in the news. These bizarre acts of violence occur with more frequency, but are inevitable in a decaying world culture where Jesus is less welcome all the time.

No doubt the news media and the “world system” will cite the gunman’s claims to Christianity as proof of this or that – not his own imbalance, but (watch, here it comes) something inherently wrong with Christianity. If he indeed includes “Christian” as one of his secret identities, it reminds me of Abe Lincoln’s characterization of an opponent’s tortured use of phrasing, that a “chestnut horse” bears no resemblance to a “horse chestnut.”

Norway, like other Scandinavian countries, indeed much of Europe and now North America, recently makes the news for episodes of anti-Christian persecution. This year alone, a Norwegian evangelist was arrested for evangelizing Norwegians during Independence Day and Pride parades. The prominent preacher Petar Keseljevic was careful not to block traffic or obstruct pedestrians; but sharing the gospel, louder than a whisper, on street corners, is an offense.

Earlier this year, a refugee from North Ossetia was deported from Norway. The region will be remembered as the site where a school in Beslan was invaded by Islamic militants, and ultimately hundreds died in the systematic hostage shootings and the storming of the school. The young lady, known as Maria Amelie, is Eastern Orthodox and was in Norway without papers. Unlike many illegal Muslims, she was deported, despite having learned the language, pursued an education, and written a book. Illegally Norwegian was a best-seller, and last year a major news magazine named her Norwegian Woman of the Year.

So illegal immigration, citizens’ rights, and social tensions have been rising throughout Europe. Norway is a small country. Back when I was writing comics, I was told that some of the comic books where they appeared sold 250,000 copies in the Norwegian market, which did not overly impress me until I realized that the country’s population was about 4-million. A good percentage.

A bad percentage, however, is “religious adherence.” About 20 per cent of Norwegians claim that religious faith plays an important role in their lives – a lower ratio (with its neighbors Sweden, Denmark, and Estonia) than any countries in the world. Only about two percent of the population attends church regularly.

Yet a remarkable group of Norwegians has been countering those trends. They gather as the Oslo Gospel Choir. They sing their own songs and gospel songs of the American church. They look like a blonde Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir. The leader, Tore Aas, assembled the singers from house churches and local fellowships about 20 years ago. The group performs locally, across Europe, and has been to America. They have released many albums and videos. Andrae Crouch and Albertina Walker have performed with the choir, and Princess Märtha Louise of Norway has sung solo with them on two Christmas albums.

Recent appearances in Switzerland and the Netherlands were before huge conclaves of Pentecostals, and were televised widely. Gospel? Huge? Tours? Sales? Audiences? Europe? Is there something new under the sun? – something stirring?

Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you. You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned? It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men. You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden.

So Matthew 5:12-14 reminds us. And we should be reminded that Oslo, the city called Christiana a century ago, where the Nobel Peace Prize is awarded, and identified with things like the Oslo Accords, is more than that bundle of associations; and cannot now be defined by the violent acts of a lone madman. It might be coming into the light; something new under the Midnight Sun. To a growing number of people around the world who are mightily blessed, Norway is becoming known as the home of that great Oslo Gospel Choir. Seeds can take root anywhere, even the rocky coasts of Norway.

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Here is a video of the Choir singing the classic God Will Make a Way in Oslo.

Click: God Will Make a Way

6-27-11

Casual thoughts about random memories have brought me to a new way to see Jesus.

I was talking with a friend recently about travel memories. Many of my trips to Europe have been intertwined with music. I have made a couple trips specifically to attend music festivals, so that’s a gimme. There were a couple of examples where, travel-weary, I stumbled on concerts being offered of favorite pieces. Those performances – one in the little Alpine village of Berchtesgaden, one in an ancient cathedral in Paris – were amazing medicine at the time, and amazing memories still. Mozart in Salzburg. If you know Mozart’s music, your jealousy can officially start now.

Except as music touches our souls, these were not specifically spiritual moments. And Travel is a creature unto itself, as travel junkies know. In my conversation, memories of great meals, great wines, and great friends also were shared.

But one memory has symbolized a truth; that is, once I heard something in a new way, and it made me see things in a new way. A hotel where I stay in Rome is near the Basilica of Saint Paul “Outside the Walls,” so called because it traditionally is regarded as where St Paul was buried after martyrdom, and its location was outside what used to be the system of walled defenses. I visit that church, with its courtyard beneath a giant mosaic of Christ on His throne, brilliantly reflecting tiles of real gold on sunny days.

Inside, once, I was deep in prayer and I gradually was conscious of music – not organ music; there was no service. It was voices, young voices, and a guitar; it was language I didn’t know, but the song was a praise and worship tune from the US, I did know quite well. The soft music echoed through the huge basilica. Was I hearing angels?

I let my eyes adjust, and saw that it was a group of school children, seated in several pews, and their leader playing the guitar. I later learned they were from South America. A Christian group, felt led to break out in song, worshiping in quite an appropriate place.

This could be one more travel tale, or a music connection. But I have realized a greater lesson. I was from one continent, on another continent, encountering this group from a third continent. I spoke English; they spoke Spanish; we were in Italy. We were strangers. Yet a worship song, no matter the words or tune but because of the One being worshiped, made me feel as close as family.

A few moments earlier I had been deep in prayer in a special setting. I probably would not have thought I could possibly feel closer to Jesus. Well, I did, instantly, when those kids softly started singing… and it wasn’t just their voices, or that He suddenly showed up. He was always there. He is always there, and here. We always can try to see Him a little better.

There are a million ways to do this. When you see things in threes – traffic lights, for instance – be reminded of the Trinity and thank God for His Holy Spirit. We have already talked about Father’s Day, and the thought we should have about our Heavenly Father. And so on.

But then I thought of something that might not be accurate theology, but is a pretty good road map for my “walk.” It is also in the category of Jesus always being around us, and how we can look or listen a little better to find Him. Jesus, at the Last Supper, took the bread and wine and, speaking symbolically in my view, referred to them as His Body and Blood, “broken for us and shed for us.” He then shared the meal.

Is it possible that Jesus did not only mean, “when you gather in a religious service once a week or once a month, and consecrate the elements, do this in remembrance of Me”? But might He also have meant, “As oft as you eat something like bread or drink something, let them be reminders that I broke my body for you, and I shed my blood for you.”

I try to keep to that! And many other reminders during every day, who Jesus is; and what He has done; and how close He is. Try that yourself! Even casual thoughts and random memories will take on new meanings. Where’s Jesus? You’ll see.

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Here is another, and random, example of cross-cultural spiritual kinship. The Boy’s Choir of Sofia, Bulgaria, singing the the rousing “Gloria!” by Vivaldi.

Click: Gloria!

6-13-11

The most holy days of the Christian calendar might not be Christmas and Easter, greeting cards and family get-togethers to the contrary notwithstanding. I have no intention of diminishing their importance, of course, and we should agree that every day “is the day that the Lord has made; let us be glad and rejoice” in them all. The meanings of Christmas and Easter are foundation-stones of our faith.

However, the two Sundays celebrated in this very church season, back to back, traditionally were major observance-days in church history, most of 2000 years. And they are much neglected today.

I am referring to Ascension Day and Pentecost. Christmas reminds us that God sent his Son; on Easter we celebrate that His Son, who Died in our place for the sin-punishment we deserve, was raised from the dead, as He had raised Lazarus. Although Jesus said “It is finished” before He died on the cross, His earthly ministry was really completed when He ascended into Heaven. He went to sit at the right hand of the Father; His divinity was asserted. Then He became Lord as well as Savior.

Then, in just a few days, there was a gathering in an upper room in Jerusalem.

When the Day of Pentecost had fully come, they were all with one accord in one place. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting. Then there appeared to them divided tongues, as of fire, and one sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance….

Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, “Men and brethren, what shall we do?” Then Peter said to them, “Repent, and let every one of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.” … Then those who gladly received his word were baptized; and that day about three thousand souls were added to them. And they continued steadfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in prayers. Then fear came upon every soul, and many wonders and signs were done through the apostles. … And the Lord added to the church daily those who were being saved.

Pentecost is the birthday of the church. It was from this day, and that event, that the church was commissioned to be God’s home – or, more correctly, be Him, to a lost world. Like a proper birthday party, there were gifts galore, as the excerpt from Acts II describes. Not the least of miracles is that Peter was transformed from a wise guy to a wise man. That’s the kind of thing that happens when the Holy Spirit blows in, and settles in your heart.

I would like to share what I think the church is going to start looking like, but that’s for later. Right now I’m enjoying the birthday party.

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A great birthday tune: a traditional hymn performed in a non-traditional way (and this traditional guy loves it) by Bart Millard, backed by Mercy Me. Visuals by the traditionally awesome Beanscot Channel.

Click: Brethren, We Have Met to Worship

6-6-11

In the time we have been doing these weekly messages, I occasionally have referred to the fact that I was in the process of writing a biography of Johann Sebastian Bach – the “Christian Encounters” of history’s greatest music-maker.

Several people have written, asking What ever happened to that book I was working on? Actually, it was published last month by Thomas Nelson Publishers.

This week I will pass along a couple excerpts from the new book, Johann Sebastian Bach. I pray they have relevance to you in the week ahead. We can take away profound lessons from this man, who was an example of someone graced with talent, yet totally humble in desiring to turn those gifts back to God. Artists should “express themselves” and “be transparent” so their audiences can know “where they are coming from”? Such motivations were unknown, or repugnant, to men and women of Bach’s time. Their efforts – indeed their privilege – was to serve the Savior. That was fulfillment.

Bach began virtually every composition, even his secular music, with a blank paper on which he wrote, Jesu, juva (“Jesus, help me”) on the upper left corner of the first page, and Soli Deo Gloria (“To God alone the glory”) on the bottom right corner of the finished ending. His was a personal relationship, not a professional duty, with the Savior.

Such “bookends” were as anointing oil over all of Bach’s creative work. So did he begin and end his days – and his life – with such petition and praise: “Jesus, help me” and “To God alone be all the glory.” With or without the mode of music, such dedication speaks to us through the years of Bach’s relevance today.

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Not every believer has had a Road-To-Damascus moment like St Paul’s, nor a terror-filled lightning storm in the Thuringian forest (where Luther vowed to study for the priesthood), nor directly contended with Satan (as Luther, in the famous legend, threw an inkwell while translating the Bible in the Wartburg Castle, Eisenach).

Sebastian Bach modestly was born into the Lutheran faith, died a committed Lutheran communicant, and, by all evidence, never experienced any spiritual doubts or crises of faith. His employers were largely ecclesiastical, and his few “secular” (court music) postings always included Christian music in their assignments. Fully half of the music he wrote was Christian. He managed musical staffs at his churches, and he taught Christian education. He was not an ordained pastor, yet the degree of his daily study, and the examinations he was obliged to pass, proved him the peer of clergy. He was indeed one of the most equipped and effective “preachers” of his age. He has been called “The Fifth Evangelist.”

Humble about his gifts, and determined that all his music was unto the Lord, we can see, as he surely did, that the “secular” Orchestral Suites and the Brandenburg Concertos and the Musical Offering and the Goldberg Variations and the suites for harpsichord and ‘cello and violin and flute – and the toccatas and trios and passacaglias and fantasias and fugues – were all spiritual compositions. Just without words.

Is this not the perfect blueprint for any Christian? Willing to forsake worldly acclaim, this modest servant of his Savior thanked God for the talents with which he was mightily blessed… and used them for the propagation of the Gospel, the souls of his fellow man, and the glory of God.

The glory of God alone.

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Any piece of Bach’s music, Christian or “secular,” could give us a spiritual boost to start the week. I have chosen for you a beautiful transcription of his famous “Air on the G string” from his third Orchestral Suite. Brief, supernal, played touchingly by the electric violinist Vanessa-Mae. The videos are pictures, somehow appropriate, of God’s other corners of Creation (for Bach was a force of nature, one of the crowns of God’s creation, surely), taken from the Hubbell Space Telescope.

Click: An Ancient Model Speaks to Our Future

5-16-11

I am rounding out the week at the Colorado Christian Writer’s Conference in Estes Park. One of the two such annual events chaired by Marlene Bagnull (the other is in Philadelphia in August), this conference is a magnet for veteran writers, aspiring writers, editors, and publishers. It overflows with practical training and teaching, but not the least of its offerings –- and blessings -– is the spiritual uplift.

Despite this economy, registration was higher this year then last year. Creative people are more passionate about telling God’s story (“Writing His Message,” from Habakkuk 2:2) than ever! And there is a message to tell.

The theme of this year’s conference, for the morning and evening sessions and keynotes, was the crisis in the culture, writers being engaged to save our nation.

It struck me that over the course of the week, no matter what the focus, there was a unifying theme. Of course the decaying culture, and other obvious headlines, connected the dots of all the talks and presentations. But an underlying subtext –- one that should grieve us all -– became evident in spite of ourselves.

To speak about decline in morals and the media… we recognize that children are prime targets.

To speak about human trafficking… children are the victims.

To speak about the AIDs crisis in Africa… children suffer as the infected AND as orphans.

To speak about the persecuted church worldwide… children are the battleground of cultures suppressing Christianity.

In America – drugs: children. Education: children. Pornography: children. Poverty: children. Homelessness: children. Broken homes: children. Abortion: children.

It is a cliché to say that children are our future. But clichés are clichés because they are, first of all, true. However, children do not HAVE to be the first-in-line victims of a culture in decline. But they are. They cannot defend themselves; they believe what the culture tells them; they are the most vulnerable.

Let us remember the children -– care for them, protect them, cleanse their environment. If one generation messed up, maybe the best thing we can do –- not the only thing, but surely the BEST thing –- is beg forgiveness and leave them a better world.

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Here is a tender lullaby Slumber My Darling, written more than 150 years ago by a man I am increasingly persuaded was America’s greatest composer, Stephen Foster. It is performed by Alison Kraus, (amazing) vocals; and YoYo Ma; Mark O’Connor; Joshua Bell; and Edgar Meyer. The images are by the amazing Beanscot Channel.

Click on: Slumber, My Darling

5-9-11

The Bible never intended that Mothers Day be so close to Easter, there having been no Hallmark Cards or ProFlowers 2000 years ago. But as long as Easter is not diminished, anything that reminds us all of the special role of mothers cannot be bad.

Easter even provides special connections for us to think about. So does Christmas, the birth of Jesus, the Son of Mary. But at Easter His closest friends denied Him… but His mother did not. The foot of the cross was mostly empty except for scoffers and Roman guards… and His mother. Even (in theology whose reasoning we hear but whose blinding love we cannot quite comprehend), for a few hours even God in Heaven forsook Jesus so that the wrath for sin could be transferred from us to Him… but His mother did not forsake him.

As a man I can only guess about the love and emotions that are present in the bonds that a mother feels toward the child she bears. I know how great “second best” is – the bond that exists between child beholding mother.

No such relationship is typical, and no mother is ordinary, so if I share a couple of things for a moment here, I do not claim to speak for anybody. In fact, I invite anybody to think upon how their relationships with their Moms were different, not similar. They have to be different, because every mom is special; and all moms are exceptional.

We hear about Soccer Moms. Mine I call a Fifties Mom. She grew up in the Depression, in a family that struggled. She married after the War. In the ‘50s our family moved to the suburbs. Cookie cutter? Sort of. Many times I have gotten together with people my age, and before long we talk like we are sociologists: “Dysfunctional.” Family tensions. Parents who smoked and drank and partied, sometimes too much. Couples who fell into the required stereotypes of the era.

All that was true in our house. Regrets, I’ve had a few… and caused a few. In other words, life happens. Did the moms who survived the Depression and never knew whether their fiancés would return home from war… did they indulge their children too much? The question is, for me, whether I would have done so too. But shame on me for the years I ragged on Mom for drinking and smoking (even, yes, shame on her for no longer being the Mom I knew when my kids were young, because of the drinking) – but shame on me for not sufficiently remembering so much else. We can all dig deep and come up with similar:

I was reared in church. Every “life question” I had, my father would generally say, “you’ll figure it out,” but my mother would generally try to explain it in terms of Jesus. Not always logical, but I got the point. When I get emotional singing hymns, I think it’s because my mother did. If I choke up when the flag passes by, it’s because she did. I remember, when we didn’t have enough dinner for seconds all around, she never took another helping for herself. When it snowed and I had a paper route, she drove me around house to house. She never failed to ask, when I was away at college, what church I was going to, and if we could read from the same devotional every night, even when she knew I had put the Bible aside for awhile.

These are not clichés, or empty Hallmark sentiments. They are a fraction of the woven emotional fabric between a Christian mother and son.

I’ll tell you how empty these memories are not. At the end of her life, Mom was placed in a Hospice program. Hospice is meant to make dying easier, not to heal you. She was in a hospital bed at home, insensible, about 60 pounds, displaying several of the “signs of impending death” that the brochure told us to watch for. A couple chips of ice is all she ingested for several days. Then one night – I was sleeping at the other end of the living room – she stirred and mumbled. Eventually, more. In the next few days she was praying, reciting Bible verses, and signing hymn choruses.

… all in her sleep, or coma state, or whatever it was. She grew strong. She lived another year. We had a great Thanksgiving dinner, where she ate solid food, talked and joked. She walked around the house, with a walker, but all for the Hospice workers to say, “This is one of those stories we can’t explain…” Best of all, my kids met their clean, sober, “real” grandmother after all.

Strangest (?) of all, by the way, for all the Sunday School lessons and church choirs and youth groups in her life… after she “recovered,” as I just recounted, she could not recite a fraction of the things she did when she was reaching out for that bonus year from a coma. Couldn’t do it. Didn’t know how she did.

The Bible talks about “hiding things in our heart.” We do that, or we allow the Holy Spirit to. If you are a mother and do so, there is no way that you are not planting things in your children’s hearts too at the same time.

“Fifties Moms.” Like in the old TV sitcoms. Well… we all kind of liked those old TV sitcoms, didn’t we? And we miss those days. Maybe the black-and-white culture wasn’t so bad.

All that “stuff,” those stereotypes about Dysfunctional Families? Maybe that was the “fruit” (not speaking biblically in this sense) that some family trees bore. But fruit drops from trees, and shrivels, and dies. Maybe we should look, on Mothers Day, not so much at the fruit, but at the seeds our Moms were so determined to plant.

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Here is a song about my Mom, whom I miss every day. When Cynthia Clawson sang it, she didn’t know she was singing about my mom, and maybe yours too, but she was:

Click: My Mother’s Faith

5-2-11

Since nothing about David Wilkerson’s life was normal (like the rest of us would mean “conventional” or “predictable”) it probably is appropriate that his death was not normal either. Enough people die every week from highway collisions with big tractor trailers, but this man spent years going into into drug hangouts and gang hideouts, and preached on street corners of violent neighborhoods, and had bodyguards as he established urban churches, and never was harmed. A car crash in rural Texas seems an ironic way to die.

David was shy of his 80th birthday when he was killed on April 27. It is possible that some Americans, even some Christians, have forgotten his name. If that is true, it is not just: his works have been branded on the American culture, all for the good. He was a founder of Teen Challenge, the youth counseling and substance-abuse recovery program that has an 80 per cent success rate versus scratch in secular programs. There are now almost 1200 Teen Challenge centers around the world. He wrote the book The Cross and the Switchblade, about his inner-city ministry among gangs. It was a best-seller, and the movie starring Pat Boone and Eric Estrada has gone on to be one of the most-watched motion pictures of all time. Nicky Cruz, the former gang leader at the center of the book, has established his own far-flung ministry, as have countless other people touched by David.

Not everyone, of course, whose lives were transformed through David’s service are Christian celebrities today. Most of them merely live cleaned-up, straightened-out, redeemed, and productive lives, if you can use the word “merely” about momentous changes in the lives of drunks, drug addicts, prostitutes, and everyday sinners like us all. David was a founder of Times Square Church, right in the center of Manhattan and “at the crossroads of the world.” And Times Square Church, with the Salvation Army, has hosted “Prayer in the Square” events –- 15,000+ people gathering annually in Times Square to sing, praise Jesus, and pray for city, nation, and world.

A remarkable life. I did not know David Wilkerson, but have a couple connections that led me to realize a spiritual lesson when I heard of his death. I once edited the autobiography of the widow of Hobart Grazier, professor and early leader of Valley Forge Christian College. She was the mother of a friend, and I was amused that the amateur writer’s manuscript made big deals of minor events, and treated more interesting matters casually. Like when Grazier, a Pennsylvania minister, took his family to Springfield MO, to his denomination’s headquarters. At the last minute a young local guy asked to ride along; after the trip he became involved in ministry. I read the passage, which contained no other information about the fellow other than his name, and I asked my friend, “Bev, is your mom writing about THAT David Wilkerson?”

She was. Now, God would have led David in some way, somehow, some time, to ministry, I suppose; but I was reminded of the verse in Ecclesiastes: “Time and chance happeneth to them all.” The New Living Translation has it: “It is all decided by chance, by being in the right place at the right time.”

A couple years later, my son and I attended a technology show in New York with a couple of friends and their sons on a Sunday afternoon. With the morning free, we wanted to worship at Times Square Church. Despite the fact that it is housed in a cavernous, elegant old Broadway theater (the former Mark Hellinger Theatre), it was filled to capacity. We were invited to check out the overflow-rooms with their TV screens. Also SRO, out into the hallways. Imagine -– a Pentecostal church in midtown Manhattan, this crowded. But in a back stairwell, we encountered David Wilkerson, on his way to open the service. One of my friends had never met him, but introduced himself. He was a graduate of Oral Roberts University, and his father, Michael Cardone, had endowed buildings there and at Evangel College in Springfield, the place where David had hitched a ride so many years earlier. In several minutes we had seats -– better than front-row seats, right behind the pulpit, facing the “house.”

I tell this story to remind readers that when you have no juice, choose your friends carefully. No, seriously, it is to explain the vantage-point we had: looking out over thousands of worshipers in the audience and in tier after tier of balconies. The service was as Pentecostal as you might expect at a small Southern church, or in the Upper Room in the Book of Acts. But the astonishing aspect I was privileged to see was the composition of the congregation. Kids in T-shirts and homeless people overdue for baths and shaves -– side-by-side with upscale society women and suburban men in expensive suits. Every age, every color, every accent. Serious in worship, ecstatic in prayer. All as one, as in the Upper Room, or, indeed, as Heaven will be. All under the inspiring preaching of David Wilkerson. “Hard preaching”: none of this “gentle message” to coax people in and afraid to give offense.

Times Square Church began, I think in 2007, to hold “Prayer in the Square” events. A video summary can be clicked on below. A similar video clip has gone viral, showing Muslims on their knees in prayer in uptown Manhattan, e-forwarded with the message that this is a weekly event that clogs traffic. But that, in fact, is an occasional celebration, not regular; with fewer participants -– in other words, the report is exaggerated. But how many of us have seen the annual Wilkerson prayer session in Times Square itself, 15,000-strong? TV, radio, newspapers, internet -– where are you?

This astonishing event is but one of the many, many ministries for which David Wilkerson was responsible. But he was also a prophet of God, an old-fashioned, Old-Testament prophet. Wikipedia lists some of the prophecies David made in his 1973 book The Vision.

Worldwide recession caused by economic confusion:

“An economic recession that’s going to affect the life style of every wage-earner in the world. The world economists are going to be at loss to explain what’s happening. It’s going to start in Europe, spread to Japan and finally to the United States.”

“There will be a move toward a worldwide, unified monetary system. The US dollar will be hit bad and it will take years for it to recover.”

Nature having labor pains:

“There will be major earthquakes… Floods, hurricanes and tornadoes will increase in frequency.”

“A new kind of cosmic storm appearing as a raging fire in the sky leaving a kind of vapor trail.”

A flood of filth and a baptism of dirt in America:

“Topless women will appear on television, followed by full nudity…. Sex and the occult will be mixed.”

“There will be an acceptance of homosexuality, and the church will even say that it is a God-given gift.”

A persecution madness against truly Spirit-filled Christians who love Jesus Christ:

“There will arise a world church consisting of a union between liberal ecumenical Protestants and the Roman Catholic Church, using Christ in name only.”

“There will be a hate-Christ movement.”

“Homosexual and lesbian ministers will be ordained and this will be heralded as a new breed of pioneer.”

“There will be a spiritual awakening behind the Iron and Bamboo Curtains.”

So, the legacy of David Wilkerson is not only countless lives that have been helped, but also countless lives that have been warned.

I titled this message after the parlor-game Six Degrees of Separation (how, with the right friends-of-friends, most of us can know anyone). Mrs Grazier and Mr Cardone gave me near-associations with David Wilkerson. Well, the day I heard about his death, I read a sports column about the New York Mets catcher Mike Nickeas: “He is teammates with Jason Isringhausen, who played with Bobby Bonilla, who played with Carlton Fisk, who played with Carl Yastrzemski, who played with Jackie Jensen, who played with Joe DiMaggio, who played with Lou Gehrig, who was Babe Ruth’s teammate.” Connections.

And I transferred the thought to David Wilkerson. Let’s see: David Wilkerson knew Jesus… And that’s it. He was an obedient servant, a doer of the Word and not a hearer only. He surely had a special anointing, but we all can know Jesus just as intimately. The Holy Spirit makes special endowments, but we may all seek, and receive, spiritual gifts. What do we do with them? That answer -– David Wilkerson’s example -– might be his greatest legacy.

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Click: David Wilkerson’s “Prayer in the Square”

4-22-11

For a few days, those two thousand years ago, the scoffers – the religious leaders who conspired to have Him arrested, sentenced in a kangaroo court, and put to death – they laughed and said, “See? All those claims were false! He was not God! If He were God, He could have called down ten thousand angels to lift Him from the cross! He did not lift a finger to save Himself!”

Of course they were right… about not saving Himself. He lifted not a finger, in order to save US. And even them, the ones who condemned Him. But for a few days they seemed correct.

We know now, as they should have, that countless prophesies were fulfilled in that Man’s life. But that did not make Him God. He claimed, in that mystery of mysteries, that He and the Father were one. But that claim alone waited to be shown. He was betrayed, tortured, abandoned, crucified; yes, suffered without complaint. But that did not prove at all that He was God. He died and was buried, according to the Scriptures, and that… No, we must stop there. He died.

Jesus died. He was a dead man. He was as dead as Lazarus had been. His body was treated and prepared for burial as dead bodies were. It was wrapped, completely, in burial cloths. He was dead. The life was out of Him.

Isn’t it easy, sometimes, to forget the meaning of those few days between the Crucifixion and Easter? Those days — just as much as the prophecies and the miracles and suffering and death and words of forgiveness — those days have as much to do with pointing to Jesus as GOD, as all the familiar factors do.

Those scoffers said, “He saved (or healed) (or raised from the dead) others -– let Him save Himself!” Well, it was the God-in-Jesus who raised people from the dead… and when He left that tomb, it was proof to the local folks -– and to every inch of mighty Creation! -– that Jesus was God. Jesus IS God.

Because unless Jesus rose from the dead, He was not God. Everything else about that life is a statistic or a coincidence. Details. If there is no Resurrection, our faith is in vain.

In parts of the Old World, and in the Old Church, routine greetings between people are: “He is risen!” “He is risen indeed!” … and not just on Easter Week. A good habit.

But as you think of the audacious, outrageous miracle of a resurrected body, with the Divine promise that we, too, may one day overcome death, and know this truth now, I challenge you to put aside traditional, nice Easter thoughts. Of peace. And of what the holiday has become. Don’t reject the traditions, just put them to the side for a moment.

Because in a very essential way, Easter is not only a day of peace. When Jesus the Christ emerged from that tomb, it was not just so Thomas could touch the wounds. It was not just so Peter could have a second chance (third? fourth??) as a disciple. Jesus walked out, in a whole and glorified body, to meet each one of us, face to face. “Here I AM.” He challenges us: “I am alive. Now what?”

Now what???

What it means is that we must be changed as profoundly as He was on that day now called Easter. Shame on us if we think, “Rose from the dead. Yeah, well, that’s what gods DO.” In that sense, Easter is not just a Day of Peace. It is the most dangerous day of the church calendar; it is the most dangerous day of our lives.

Because nothing should, or can, be the same, after we meet the Resurrected Lord, the Not-Dead Jesus, the God-with-us. It must transform us, and everything we do and think or live, or we are as dead as He briefly was.

He is risen. He is risen indeed! HE’S ALIVE!

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Click: He’s Alive!

4-11-11

Very much a Lenten story.

The sister and brother-in-law of a friend of mine are missionaries in Mexico Their agency is called Last Frontiers, and this is story about their family’s life this week.

Ed and Denise Aulie work primarily with indigenous peoples of Mexico -– specifically the Nahuatl of Veracruz, and the Ch’ol of Chiapas. They also speak in congregations throughout Mexico, giving studies of God’s Word. They are church planters, and they also minister through literacy training, medical service for the sick, agricultural work, and construction of homes for woman who are alone.

They have worked in the mission field with indigent Mayan and Aztec tribes in Mexico for more than 30 years as a married couple; all their children were born in Mexico. Through the years they have mentored many young people who now serve across the world, including in the US, France, Germany, Italy, Canada, China, India, Yemen and Iraq.

Their story, this week, is about one of their own children, however. Ed will tell the story:

Over the years we have seen many a mangled bicycle lying on the ground, with a sheet covering the rider. We have seen crowds gather around a toppled donkey cart with a child or grandfather lying nearby, having been hit by a vehicle. Yet we never thought that one day it would be our son lying in the oncoming traffic lane after being hit by a car at full speed.

Finally, would YOU ask God to give you the grace to give “The Pardon” to anyone in your life, whether they are waiting for it or not? Don’t let a sword hang over that person’s head a minute longer.

“Be merciful as your Heavenly Father is merciful.” [Luke 6:36]

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I believe that the meaning, and to major extent the essence, of the Easter story is in Ed’s letter. The purpose of the Incarnation… the offer of pardon for our sins… the role of forgiveness… sharing the Good News. The meaning, and to a major extent the essence, of the Easter story is neutralized in our lives if we keep it as a historical episode from 2000 years ago. It is not only relevant for today. It must HAPPEN every day, in each of our lives.

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Click: I Can Only Imagine (Puedo Imaginarme)

If you are interested in the ministry of Last Frontiers, click its name on the MMMM Recommended Sites list on the right. You can learn about their missions, their news updates, their support opportunities.

4-4-11

Another Lenten contemplation.

A recently released book is raising dust in Christian circles. Frankly, the controversy probably is bigger than the book itself, but so it goes. Love Wins by Rob Bell presents the argument that most people, or all people, will eventually be redeemed from hell, if there is a hell, because Jesus’s death was an atonement for all of creation. Eventually, in this life or sometime in Eternity, souls will be persuaded to accept Him.

I believe I have summarized the book properly. One of the author’s tenets is that God is so loving, it seems impossible that He would let people go to hell.

If I have not properly summarized the book, then I have properly summarized dozens of very similar heresies and distortions of scripture from the past 2000 years. In brief, there is a theological proposition called Universalism, generally meaning that everyone since Calvary has been or will be “saved” from punishment – from the penalty of sin and rebellion against God. And maybe even retroactively, before Calvary. Some call it Universalism. I call it Wishful Thinking.

The Lenten season is useful to believers as we contemplate the implications of our sins, our need for salvation, the concept of Jesus’ substitutionary death, the triumph of His overcoming the grave, and the meaning of His ascension to Heaven. The truth of it all.

Another new book attracts attention: Megashift. Author James Rutz presents data to claim that the fastest-growing religion on earth is… Christianity. Counterintuitive to some of us. We sense that Christianity is declining in America and Europe. It is. We are aware that Christians are being persecuted with increasing ferocity in other parts of the world. They are. (This is partly a reaction to Christianity’s growth; and it partly inspires Christianity’s spread) We observe that “mainstream” denominations are shrinking. They are. (The rising tide of believers is mostly independent, Bible-believing, First-Century types; “New Apostolics” is Rutz’s label.)

I believe I have accurately summarized that book’s documentation. These two books illustrate the irony, or at least the evolution, of Christianity today. Many people from predominantly Muslim and Buddhist and Hindu and animist lands, and even from demonic traditions… are now on-fire Christians. These new believers send more missionaries, year after year, to the “Christian West” because of perceived spiritual needs! And traditional white-bread, culturally elite, and intellectually pretentious “Christ-followers” and “communitarians” and “emergents” (they can’t seem to say “Christian” for some reason)… no longer “get it.”

“It” is the way of the cross, the plan of salvation. We all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Our self-inflicted unrighteousness, which denies us entry to the presence of a holy God, has a provision. We cannot earn it, but Christ offered it: believe in Him and accept His loving assumption of our sins and guilt; and we will be reconciled to God.

Is that hard? It depends upon our response. Are there details about it that we don’t understand? Of course; we are not God. Do we deserve this crazy, illogical, outrageous, unspeakable “pass” against a lifetime of spiritual shortcomings and rebellion?

Of course not. That’s called Love.

That is the love that wins. By God’s grace, He provided a way. If there is no need for repentance, the Bible lies; no element of forgiveness, then Jesus suffered foolishly; no salvation decision, the cross is ridiculed. If mankind will go to Heaven en masse just because we all have pulses, the Easter story is a joke. There would be no reason ever again to sing Amazing Grace.

I will advance a theory of my own, and I hope I properly am consistent with scripture: Jesus was a man who suffered like no other; but as God incarnate, He had the ability to focus His thoughts as He was on the cross. And with all the torments and betrayals, all the billions of people who did live and will live in history, when He was on the cross, I was on His mind. And so were you.

When He looked down, He looked – through eyes encrusted with blood, but also through the years and through many generations in many places – into the individual faces of you and me.

Why in world (literally) would the Son of God endure all this, and offer all this? So that we might accept – believe, confess, and be transformed. Salvation is free, but not cheap, as many have said. Neither should it intentionally be cheapened, not in this Lenten season, or ever.

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Click: You Were On His Mind

3-21-11

“Giving something up for Lent” has a sacred origin, of course; and an ancient origin. Sacrifice and self-denial are old Christian traditions, as believers wanted to discipline themselves to identify with Christ’s suffering.

As we noted last week, one reason that God ordained the manner of Jesus’s death – surrender, betrayal, suffering – was to show mankind that the Deity understands the human condition. Holy irony, beautiful synergy. Old observances of the church have changed through the years; for instance, baptisms once were performed only on Easter Sunday. During the Reformation, when there was a desire to push back on sacred rites that had become empty rituals, the long and hard fasts during Lent were changed: individuals made private determinations to sacrifice something precious in order to thank, honor, and “imitate” Christ, for the sake of our souls.

Eventually that became a ritual, or a joke, or a scheme to diet or save lunch money. Not with everyone, of course, but with many people.

This idea is not new with me, but since “giving something up for Lent” is not something from the lips of Jesus, but man-made, no matter how well-intentioned… could we not also thank God, honor Christ, and, yes, “imitate” Him, if we took up something for Lent, instead of laying something aside? That is, something for Him, not for us.

Jesus took up the cross! He allowed Himself to be lifted up in painful crucifixion! He willingly added burdens to Himself in the period before Easter.

Surely we can do the same, and for motives just as pure and God-honoring. Not to gain gold stars, or make a list of good works, or… turn this concept into an empty ritual. But we can all think of adding to our moral to-do list, not temporarily erasing from it, at least for this Lenten season (and beyond!)

The world is hurting… look everywhere. Charities are starving… of staff, not just money. Your neighbor needs a ride… and maybe a word from God. That broken relationship you have somewhere… needs reconciliation. Someone who wronged you… needs forgiveness. We all need forgiveness… so there is a model for us. We received it from the Cross.

“The Old Rugged Cross, so despised by the world, its shame and disgrace we gladly bear…”
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Click: The Old Rugged Cross

The site of this performance is the neighborhood of Golgotha and the Tomb in Jerusalem. The Gaither Homecoming Friends gathered to modestly sing this dear old hymn. Great scenes, and great meaning, in this short music video…

3-7-11

The assassination this week of Shahbaz Bhatti, the Minister of Minorities in Pakistan, is a story that garnered some attention in the news, but for the most part was subsumed by other reports on related issues from the Islamic world.

Shahbaz was the only Christian in the national cabinet, a brave advocate of religious freedom before world forums and in his own land. The news that crowded his murder from the headlines included other assassinations; street protests; Christians being arrested; Muslim factional hatred; Christians fleeing their homelands; government crackdowns; Christian churches being invaded; piracy, kidnappings and murder; and Christian martyrdom, from lowly believers and pastors to prominent officials in several countries.

According to the BBC, “Mr Bhatti, 42, a leader of the ruling Pakistan People’s Party (PPP), had just left his mother’s home in a suburb of the capital when several gunmen surrounded his vehicle and riddled it with bullets, say witnesses.” He routinely had been receiving death threats for urging reform of Pakistan’s blasphemy laws. “Pamphlets by al-Qaeda and Tehrik-i-Taliban Punjab, a branch of the Taliban in Pakistan’s most populous province, were found at the scene.” Tehrik-i-Taliban told BBC Urdu they carried out the attack.

Four months ago, Shahbaz said in a video, “I want to share that I believe in Jesus Christ who has given His own life for us. I know what is the meaning of [the] cross. And I am following… the cross.” He continued, “I am ready to die for the cross,” speaking these words calmly and with confidence. He knew he was reciting his own epitaph. Shahbaz was not a supernatural prophet – he surely knew the dangers to his life – rather he was a humble servant, an obedient follower.

Then said Jesus unto his disciples, If any man will follow me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross (Matthew 16:24).

Shahbaz correctly pinpointed the center of our world’s coming crisis – not economies nor resources nor pollution; not even religion – but the cross of Jesus Christ. And the persecuted church, in so many of the world’s fiery corners, understands this. Despite the horrible treatment of uncountable Christian martyrs, now approaching one a minute, every day, around the world, that persecuted church is being purified, like gold in a fire.

Some Christians in the West concern themselves with the “Prosperity Gospel,” and debate universalist theories that everyone is going to Heaven, “if there is a Heaven.” But Christ-followers and missionaries and martyrs elsewhere in the world work to “know Christ and make Him known.”

The “crown” is the exclusive focus of too many Christians. Christ promised an abundant life, certainly; but He offered, and warned, and promised, the burden (mysteriously, a glorious burden!) of the “cross.” Plausible Christianity is that the Crown awaits us in Heaven; and the Cross is our lot here.

“It is one thing to kneel at the foot of the cross for forgiveness; it is quite another thing to get on that cross to follow Jesus in His death. But it is the only way to live the resurrected life. This is what it means to be His disciple. When we live the crucified life, nothing can truly harm us. You can’t hurt a dead person.” So wrote a friend, singer/songwriter Becky Spencer, this week. “Our churches are filled with bored, dissatisfied Christians. Not because our God isn’t enough, but because most of them have only visited the cross once for salvation. It is meant to be embraced every day.”

I did not know Shahbaz Bhatti. Three of my close friends did, but I cannot say that I would speak his mind here. However, his murder this week has me thinking more than ever about the persecution of Christians, and our proper response as believers ourselves – response not alone to the situation of martyrs, but response to Christ’s commission. And it all has to do with the Cross, the Cross.

Jesus came to save us from our sins, but not necessarily from the effects of our sins; nor the world’s persecution; nor evil, punishment, or sickness; all because there is sin in the world. And as He offers forgiveness from sin, it might be said that He did not come to grab us from hell or push us into Heaven. His ministry was to keep hell out of people, and put Heaven into us, so to speak. We are to do His work while we are here.

Christians often think we have to “close the deal” and assure that people have eternal life. But all we can do is quote the Promise. To presume that we can do any more might be to blaspheme the Holy Spirit, whose work this really is. Believers, by responding to the invitation to believe on Jesus, have a say in that; and God, of course, is the Judge.

So what is left? To servants like Shabaz Bhatti, and to missionaries in heathen areas (including – think about it – you and me, right in our neighborhoods), our work is to do Christ’s work. Here. And now. Working to keep hell out of people and planting a little Heaven – by sharing belief in Jesus Christ who has given His own life for us, as Shahbaz testified; that He is not just one way, but the way to God – this must be our mission. And our privilege. And our Cross.

Jesus frankly said that the world will hate that message. It hated that message when He spoke it, and He was crucified on the cross. It hates that message when we speak it, and the world will likewise and therefore hate us. To take up the Cross and follow Him is not an option. It is as much of being a Christian as confessing Jesus as Savior.

The Book of Revelation tells us that to add or subtract a word from scripture is anathema, yet I would venture to say that in Heaven another verse has been added this week to Hebrews, Chapter 11. That book is “the Hall of Fame of Faith,” listing great heroes and martyrs of the faith – many of whom did not live to see the fruits of their service and sacrifice. “By faith, Shahbaz…”

God bless you, brother. None of your countrymen will come closer to the Truth through the motives of a dozen cowardly murderers. But I pray that millions will see the Truth through your martyrdom, your purity of faith, your service to the cross of Christ. And He will be glorified. Amen.

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In honor of Shabaz Bhatti and persecuted Christians worldwide:

Click: Anthem of the Persecuted

I want to acknowledge the words and wisdom of three friends who were privileged to know Shahbaz — Hope Flinchbaugh, Marlene Bagnull, and Dan Wooding, for whom this week has been trying; Becky Spencer (“sure you can quote me – the Holy Spirit doesn’t copyright inspiration!”); and insights I gained this week while researching a book, from messages by Lyman Abbott.

2-21-11

Presidents’ Day. A holiday one of whose aspects I abhor: its mush-brained attempt at “inclusiveness.” Beyond a thank-you for the time certain presidents served, and sacrifices they probably made – already covered by various grade schools named for them, and the pensions they received – simply doing one’s job should not be justification for a federal holiday.

To honor all is a way of honoring none. For historical saps like James Buchanan, sharing a national holiday with Abraham Lincoln is to knock the latter off a pedestal. Historical mistakes like John Tyler and Millard Fillmore should not be mentioned in the same hemisphere as George Washington. Some few presidents did great things in great ways.

The impetus for President’s Day was provided by unions and retailers, who desired another long weekend on the standard calendar. The result? Our civic saints live in the popular image, now, as Abe Lincoln impersonators hawking used cars on TV commercials; and George Washington (his talking portrait on animated dollar bills), not the Father of His Country, but the Father of the President’s Day Weekend of Unbelievable Bargains and Sales.

Americans used to reject, but now embrace, the Marxian mindset of mediocrity – every thing, and every one, must be leveled. It once was the French who, in the name of equality, sought to abolish First-Class seats on their trains. “Why is it that the Socialists never abolish the second-class?” a French friend of mine once moaned. Now in America we pull down some of humankind’s greatest figures, like Washington and Lincoln, in order to – what? not hurt the feelings of Franklin Piece and Chester Alan Arthur?There’s a lesson for our school children: grow up to be elected president, have a pulse, and you, too, will have post offices close a day in your honor.

Obviously I am eager to honor Washington and Lincoln, whose birthdays, this month, officially have been homogenized, as have their reputations. I do honor them, frequently, in my writing, and in discussions, and conversations with children, and in my reading and my studies. So should we all do with people and causes that we revere, more so when the culture obscures them from our vision.

In my case I hold Theodore Roosevelt in particular regard. I am finishing a biography of him (for Regnery, to be published this October), and one thing I have come to appreciate about TR is something that largely has been neglected by history books. That is, the aspect of his fervent Christian faith. In some ways, he might be seen as the most Christian and the most religious of all presidents.

This is (admittedly) a subjective list, and a difficult one to compute and compile. TR’s name at the top might surprise some people, yet that surprise might itself bear witness to the nature of his faith: privately held, but permeating countless speeches, writings, and acts. His favorite verse was Micah 6:8 – “What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?”

He was of the Dutch Reformed Church. He participated in missions work with his father, a noted philanthropist. He taught weekly Sunday School classes during his four years at Harvard. He wrote for Christian publications.

He called his bare-the-soul speech announcing his principles when running in 1912, “A Confession of Faith.” Later he closed perhaps the most important speech of his life, the clarion-call acceptance of the Progressive Party nomination that year, “We stand at Armageddon and we battle for the Lord!” That convention featured evangelical hymns and closed with “Onward Christian Soldiers.”

He titled one his books Foes of Our Own Household (after Matthew 10:36) and another, Fear God and Take Your Own Part. He once wrote an article for The Ladies’ Home Journal, “Nine Reasons Why Men Should Go To Church.” After TR left the White House, he was offered university presidencies and many other prominent jobs. He chose instead to become Contributing Editor of The Outlook, a small Christian weekly magazine – tantamount to an extremely popular ex-president today (if we had one) choosing to edit WORLD Magazine, or RealClearPolitics.com, or ASSIST News Service, instead of higher-profile positions.

He was invited to deliver the Earl Lectures at Pacific Theological Seminary in 1911, but declined due to a heavy schedule. Knowing he would be near Berkeley on a speaking tour, however, he offered to deliver the lectures if he might be permitted to speak extemporaneously, not having time to prepare written texts of the five lectures, as was the custom. It was agreed, and TR spoke for 90 minutes each evening – from the heart and without notes – on the Christian’s role in modern society.

… and so on. TR was not perfect, but he knew the One who is. Fond of saying that he would “speak softly and carry a big stick,” it truly can be said, also, that Theodore Roosevelt hid the Word in his heart, and acted boldly. He was a great American because he was thoroughgoing good man; and he was a good man because he was a humble believer.

Remember Theodore Roosevelt on President’s Day. Remember him on his own birthday, Oct 27. Remember him every day – we are not seeing his kind any more.

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Two vids celebrating Theodore Roosevelt: a clip from the movie The Wind and the Lion: “The world will never love the US; it might respect us; it might come to fear us; but it will never love us.” —
Click: The Affinity of America and the Grizzly Bear — Brian Keith as TR

2-7-11

This weekend is the centennial of Ronald Reagan’s birth, and he has been, rightly, in the news. We surely need a dose of the Gipper’s optimism, faith, and policies these days. Even the current occupant of the White house thinks so, at the least in part. He read an autobiography of Reagan over the Christmas holidays, and publicly has been respectful to his memory.

Commentators have called the State of the Union speech Obama’s “Reagan moment,” for some reason. In a coincidence of timing, the 25th anniversary of the Challenger disaster also recently was observed; and President Reagan’s speech to the nation – “they touched the face of God” – was replayed to the benefit of us all. Lumps in the throat do not have expiration-dates.

That politicians since Reagan have cast themselves in his image, or encouraged others to do so, seems almost sacrilegious; and the Challenger speech is one affirmation of that. The recent presidential speech, a putative Balm in Tucson, is said to have been Reaganesque. The admonition allegedly inspiring a nation – “All of us… should do everything we can to make sure this country lives up to our children’s expectations” – is one from which, I suspect, Mr Reagan would have dissented. I surely do.

I have nothing against children. I have been father to three, and recall being one myself. Some of my best friends are children. Children are wonderful and precious, gifts from God, the Bible tells us. But they are… children.

Their innocence is being stolen in a thousand ways these days, by this society (another topic for another time, but I believe this to be true, and a cultural crime). Now we’re supposed to burden them with drafting a list of expectations their parents and elders should live up to? How do kids wish we would act, and would have them to act? What would those dreams be?

If most children were honest, their lists would shock parents, elders, and teachers – at least those who forget what they were like as kids themselves:

* Abolish rules about homework and bedtime;
* Get over our hang-ups about hair, dress, hygiene, and keeping a neat room;
* Promise not to ask about e-mails, phone calls, certain friends, or that music. Et cetera.

I will jump from this new standard – that we should live up to our children’s expectations – and from speculation about what another president would not have said… to what the Bible does say, in disagreement: Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it (Proverbs 22:6).

That is not some sacred fortune-cookie saying; it is more, even, than a prediction. It is a command – TRAIN UP children. For society to operate on a contrary standard (and, of course, everything it represents, and everything that flows from such beliefs) might, some day, lead to a country that is without any standards; not just a culture that strives to “live up to children’s expectations.”

The best wish for our children is that they desire to live up to our expectations of them… and that everyone’s aspiration be to meet God’s expectations.

The beautiful irony of the Christian life is that children don’t have to follow their inclinations or rebellion, and adults don’t have to impose authority or cram some set of rules. We find victory in surrender. All Jesus wants us to do – His expectation – is to lean on His Everlasting Arms.

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The great gospel song of that title is here plaintively sung by Iris DeMent. Long an outstanding singer/songwriter, Iris’s version of this classic hymn closes out the hit movie True Grit; and is receiving deserved praise. The artwork in this video (a beautiful slideshow production of the excellent Beanscot Channel on YouTube) shows a variety of children, doing what Jesus expects of them, and all of us, leaning back in His loving arms.

Click: Leaning On the Everlasting Arms

1-31-11

Recently in this space we regretted aspects of contemporary American life that tend to turn many a meaningful thing into meaningless bling. Our sound-bite society has been fed, and therefore has come to prefer, life’s pleasures as if they are spectaculars on an IMAX screen; and life’s challenges to be as brief as  downloads on an iPod.

“’Tis a Gift Be Simple,” began the old Shaker hymn of the 1840s. At one time this could have been the anthem of the American folk. Modesty, industry, simplicity: not goals inculcated by teaching and preaching, but ways of life, of living and giving; willingly embraced.

The next line of the sacred American folk hymn is significant today, perhaps honored most in the breach. “‘Tis a gift to be free.”

Like many virtues, “freedom” is inchoate. Is it the right of Americans? Is it a birthright – inherited but able to be squandered? Freedom from what? Free to do what? Jesus said, “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32). Free from sin; and there is no other way to this glorious freedom. At the same time, we are free to sin. In Galatians (5:13) we are told, “You were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity to indulge your flesh, but through love serve one another.”

It would seem that, more than a right, freedom is a gift. A gift of God, not of governments or any other agencies of man. Not an entitlement to be indulged, but a privilege to be worthy of… to become worthy of. Continually.

The question in those lights is pertinent this week. Societies squandering their rights, people rallying to demand their rights, and regimes denying rights, are all in the news. Street protests across the Arab world are being met by repression… and leaders who flee with their lives. We find ourselves suddenly in a historical moment, as during the French Revolution or the fall of Communism, when hour by hour, seismic changes occur. Scenarios that seemed impossible yesterday are reality today, and might be obsolete tomorrow. Political boundaries might not be changing, but societies are transformed overnight. “The old order changeth.”

Also this week, Freedom House, a human-rights group, issued its annual report. It documented “the longest continuous period of decline since it began compiling the annual index nearly 40 years ago,” according to Agence France-Presse.

Repression and widespread denial of rights is nearing levels of the post-Cold War era, the report says. Areas of deep concern include press freedom, political and civil rights, ethnic prejudice, forced prostitution, arms and drug traffic, corruption, slavery, and genocide. Two fewer governments than in the previous report are characterized as “free” (87 countries in all; only 43 per cent of the world’s population). And, alarmingly, religious persecution and deadly violence sharply are increasing. We read the news; we see the reports – and yet we don’t know a fraction of the horrible occurrences.

Christians frequently are the targets of prejudice these days, in democracies that are familiar to us; and expulsion or murder, in countries that are strange to us. It increasingly seems that the strange is becoming familiar, and the familiar is becoming strange.

A thousand years ago, there were lands of legend – not only of fiction – where individuals had to fight for freedom, defend their faith, and “earn their spurs.” And they did! Today, in this land, if it were to become the case that it is against the law to be a Christian… would there be enough evidence to convict you?

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Here is a song about that time in history, when knights earned their spurs, standing for God and valor when “freedoms” were not automatic. It is sung by the London boys choir Libera.

Click: For God and For Valor

The lyrics of this song:

When a knight won his spurs, in the stories of old,
He was gentle and brave, he was gallant and bold;
With a shield on his arm and a lance in his hand,
For God and for valour he rode through the land.

No charger have I, and no sword by my side,
Yet still to adventure and battle I ride,
Though back into storyland giants have fled,
And the knights are no more and the dragons are dead.

Let Faith be my shield and let joy be my steed
‘Gainst the dragons of anger, the ogres of greed;
And let me set free with the sword of my youth,
From the castle of darkness, the power of Truth.

1-17-11

The shootings in Tucson should direct us to think about heroes and villains. There is an obsession in America to fill in every space on the template of every event. Of course there were heroes that morning, but the people so called in that horrible scene firmly have rejected the honorific. Also to be rejected is the compulsion of some people instantaneously to invent villains. The shooter was villain enough.

Whether we call them heroic, or wise and courageous, two figures impressed us: an older lady and a young man. Patricia Maisch grabbed the second ammunition magazine. Twenty-year-old Daniel Hernandez rushed toward the gunfire, and rendered aid to Rep Giffords in ways that likely kept her from dying. One prevented more killings; the other saved the wounded.

We all have seeds of heroism in us; and, God help us, possibly cowardly tendencies as well. The moment of crisis cannot be scripted. On the other hand, wisdom and bravery are acquired traits. They can be cultivated, and are more worthy of honor than “mere” heroism… especially in a country where athletes and movie stars routinely are called heroes. The term has become cheap.

I am reminded of William James’s observations during the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. He noticed that, in the chaos, a new social order instantly was established. Upper-class bankers, for instance, readily performed menial tasks as they saw the need; conversely, many manual laborers instinctively assumed superior tasks – directing traffic, managing people, assuming responsibilities. None of those acts was merely heroic, they were more: wise, courageous, displaying character. Human nature in the crucible.

I could not escape the thought that the “memorial service” on Wednesday was a stark contrast to the Character Amidst Carnage we all saw Saturday morning. It was a pep rally, with whoops and whistles and chants; not a service. There was more adulation for a celebrity, than grief for the dead, wounded, and survivors.

A pagan ritual with feathers and importuning to Father Sky replaced – not even accompanied – prayers that would have been coherent to 95 per cent of the people, and to their God. Shouts and cheers from the bleachers at inopportune moments were more redolent of rock concerts; and, if he had wanted, the First Celebrity could have stilled the multitudes and returned to the reverent duty at hand.

What we sorely need is fewer theatrics at such events, if, indeed, such events are necessary at all (after all, victims’ churches and families held their own observances). TV spectacles in huge stadiums. Logos created for this service’s hand-outs. T-shirts manufactured for the “memorial service.” Politically correct, and politically hostile, statements to the press. Presidents of universities and of countries asking for “moments of silence.” Silence? Is the word, or the act of, PRAYER radioactive?

That is what we need more of: prayer. Excuse me — Shut up and pray. Simply pray. Where are simple prayers, simple faith, simple services, simple responses, these days?

…’tis a Gift to be simple, after all.

The University of Arizona Orchestra closed the rally with a performance of Simple Gifts, from Aaron Copland’s Appalachian Spring. Specifically, it was an arrangement of the orchestral score by Copland to Martha Graham’s ballet of that name. As such, it was discordant, both musically and in suitability. The secular music is of two lifelong supporters of Communism and the Communist Party; both virulent secularists; Copland a homosexual crusader — the performance, perhaps fine in some contexts, I simply consider out of place at a “memorial service.” Better, if the words and music pleased, to perform a… simple… version of the original work that not many Americans know.

Simple Things did not have its origin with Copland, nor its fate in countless TV commercials. Simple Things is a hymn of the devout Shaker community, written by Elder Joseph Brackett in 1848. The sect’s Christian faith, like their music and their famous furniture, was simple… and the Shakers themselves may be nearly as extinct as admirable Simplicity in America today.

Complicated, choreographed extravaganzas, with everything figured out for us and arranged in every politically correct detail – and spiritual substance left ‘way behind – is not the type of prize to be sought in a Christian Republic like America once was. ‘Tis a Gift to be simple.

Click: A Gift To Be Simple

A beautiful performance of this American hymn by Alison Kraus and violoncellist Yo-Yo Ma… simple, just the two of them.

1-3-11

The recent lunar eclipse is the last the northern hemisphere will see for a number of years. Its coincidence with the Winter solstice was the first in three centuries. Our New Year’s Day, 1-1-11, is the last such group of numbers until… oh, you get it.

If you think hard enough, EVERY day is the last of this or the first of that.

As Christians, we should see life that way. Every regret or painful memory, for instance, can be filed under “past” because we have forgiveness and a new life offered by Jesus. And no matter what else is going on, TODAY can be the start of amazing things you can do, and God can do through you.

There is a traditional Irish blessing (set to music and beautiful photographs in the link below) that is both appropriate for any day, between friends, as we are; and to think upon this New Year.

It set me thinking about Ireland’s role in Christian history. At one point, in Europe, Rome fell to barbarians, sacked and pillaged. The trappings of “civilization” and Christianity were put to flight. To a great extent, learning and biblical spirituality were pushed westward, until the Atlantic Ocean became a watery end-of-the-road. In Ireland, in isolated monasteries and abbeys, the Bible was copied by hand; faith was kept alive; Christian traditions were nurtured. There were pockets of believers elsewhere, of course, but largely it was a persecuted church. It was the “Dark Ages,” but things were not so dark in those places where the flame of faith was kept glowing.

I have a feeling that the decade we enter this weekend will be characterized as a decade of Christian persecution. It won’t be the last, but there is no reason to think that the attacks on believers we see in the news (and many we don’t), weekly and now daily around the world, will not grow in intensity or ferocity. These happen in Pakistan, North Korea, China, Iraq, Egypt, Russia, Cuba, India… and Western Europe and Canada and the United States.

Erosion of religious liberty, mockery of our Christian heritage, “legal” restrictions on the exercise of our faith and sharing our beliefs – classifying portions of the Bible as “hate speech” is only one of countless examples – confirm that no place in the world is safe from attack. Just as The Son of Man, we believers will have “no place to lay our heads,” spiritually speaking.

When the Irish “saved civilization” and preserved Western Christianity for a season, it was the geographical firewall. Today, in the global community with new media, each one of us – individuals who have received the Great Commission from Jesus Himself – will need to be virtual monasteries unto ourselves: Holding the Word close; keeping the flame of faith alive; nurturing Christian tradition.

I wish you not a path devoid of clouds, nor a life on a bed of roses,
Not that you might never need regret,
nor that you should never feel pain.

No, that is not my wish for you.
My wish for you is:

That you might be brave in times of trial,
when others lay crosses upon your shoulders.
When mountains must be climbed and chasms are to be crossed,
When hope can scarce shine through.
That every gift God gave you might grow with you
and let you give your gift of joy to all who care for you.
That you may always have a Friend who is worth that name,
whom you can trust and who helps you in times of sadness,
Who will defy the storms of daily life at your side.

One more wish I have for you:
That in every hour of joy and pain you may feel God close to you.
This is my wish for you and for all who care for you.
This is my hope for you now and forever.

— anonymous Irish blessing

Click:  The Best Possible New Year’s Wish

The nation – check that: the world – has come through a tough year. Economics; conflicts; persecution including increasing prejudice in the US and deadly attacks on Christians abroad; moral and social decay… well, we survived, but it has been a rough track.

And whether we do something to make the next year better, for ourselves, our nation, and our world, depends, as always, on what we do. The solutions again still spread before us: rededication to God’s Word; working for revival in our nation; a defense and loving propagation of the Gospel to the world.

Can we do it alone? Yes, if we have to. But we don’t have to! Just like New Year’s Eve parties – whether you juggle many invitations, or have received none – we can are assured of being with our Best Friend.

“What a Friend We Have in Jesus” has always been one of my favorite hymns. It speaks not only of profound comfort and insurance against loneliness, but its worlds reminds us what our Friend Jesus OFFERS – taking burdens, being faithful, hearing our prayers, offering strength when we are weak.

Doc Watson, the iconic singer and guitar player, was born in North Carolina almost 90 years ago. He was blinded by an infection when a year old. He got caught up (my characterization) in the folk-song movement, and appeared in coffee houses and folk-music festivals. His son Merle, also a talented guitar player, tragically was killed in a tractor accident some years ago, and Doc considered giving up music. He had a vision, however – remember, he is blind – encouraging him to perform for a purpose. Doc hewed closer to his Carolina roots, including the faith of his people.

Near the end of a concert earlier this year, reported Betty Dotson-Lewis in the Daily Yonder, “Doc told the audience that he wanted to give testimony and hoped that no one would mind. He said that he was a born-again Christian. He said he had been baptized when he was 14 years old but that it was the wrong kind of religion. He had listened to the wrong preaching and was baptized out of fear. He told us that four years ago he was listening to the song Doctor Jesus sung by Randy Travis, and when the chorus came around the third time –

Doctor Jesus, Will you help me?


Make me better, make me whole.

Doctor Jesus, Lord, I need you


To mend my heart, and save my soul.

– Doc Watson said that he prayed the prayer and became a born-again Christian.” Note, at the end of this song, the wrenching emotion that overtakes the grateful child of God. Blind eyes “see,” and cry, with conviction.

In his mid-80s, Doc Watson discovered that you can know ABOUT something, or some One, but not KNOW. A lot of us, over the past year, have known about the offerings of a loving God, and solutions for our problems, but have not always taken them up unto ourselves.

Well, we have a Friend with us who will help us carry on; will lift burdens that impede us; and will share our sorrows, should they come. Just knowing this can make the coming year very different for a lot of people.

What a way to end the year and begin a new one! What a friend!

Click: What a Friend We Have in Jesus

A Music Ministry Special

Christmas week. Even the most spiritual people among us – plausibly, the MOST spiritual among us – easily can be caught up in the THINGS of this week. Touching bases, checking lists, doing this and that, going here and there… all of which is legitimate. All of which we routinely regret, to an extent. All of which we resolve, nest year, to balance with quiet time to reflect on the meaning of Christmas.

At your service, folks. Here is a 2010-style method of slowing your pace, soothing your soul, and communing quietly with, maybe, your family; with God… and with Johann Sebastian Bach.

At the end of this message is a link to a performance of Bach’s immortal CHRISTMAS ORATORIO. We are used to hearing Handel’s “Messiah,” at least several famous portions. No less beautiful, and powerful, and spiritual, is Bach’s “Christmas Oratorio.”

An oratorio is best explained as a religious opera without a stage. Drama based on biblical stories is presented employing overtures and instrumental movements, solos and choruses, and often a narrator – an orator, providing one theory of its name – in the form of a singing narrator who stands apart from the “action.” Oratorios sometimes were performed outside the settings of churches. The most famous composer of Baroque oratorios is Händel, who wrote one German, two Italian, and seventeen English-language oratorios.

The opening of Bach’s Christmas Oratorio, Jauchzet, Frohlocket!, with timpani drums tuned to different notes, is among the grandest music Bach wrote. And the close of part two, Wir Singen Dir In Deinem Heer, seamlessly combining two previous beautiful melodies, is magical. The Sinfonia, a purely instrumental movement, is sublime. Does it advance the “action”? – No, except to set the mood of the peaceful night in Bethlehem, where the shepherds watched over their flocks.

May I invite the uninitiated to this glorious piece, or to Baroque music in general: Let Bach, and the biblical text, carry you on a spiritual trip. The Bible is quoted; the chorus and soloists take the part of Christmas-week players; and the ancient, beautiful music will touch your soul. Give this time… and it will be a special part of your Christmas.

In this video, Sir John Eliot Gardiner conducts the Monteverdi Choir and the English Baroque Soloists; the setting is the historic Herderkirche in Weimar, Germany, a city where Bach once lived and worked. The Christmas Oratorio originally was performed on six different days, from Christmas to Epiphany. Technically it is six cantatas, a form within the liturgy of which Bach was master.

The small choir… the original ancient instruments… the soloist in the box… the setting of the historic church… bring you close to the music as Bach would have conducted it himself. The first such time was Christmas of 1734.

I am linking you to full-screen downloads of this masterpiece (I daresay many of you will rush to find the DVD version of this to watch on a bigger screen next year!) Of several good versions available on the web, this is the only one with English subtitles; when they don’t appear, it is because singers are repeating passages. ALSO: this is not just “sit back and close your eyes.” Every once in a while a download will end, and a screen will appear with freeze-frame options. Click the largest box, upper right, labeled “Up Next,” or the logically numbered screens in the strip below.  (This will give you a chance to take a break if needed – this is more than two hours long, like “Messiah,” so plan some time! – or, you will see, you will want to repeat a passage whose musical beauty and spiritual power has impressed you!

Take time. Make time. Have a merry, and meaningful, and musical, Christmas!

Click this link: Christmas Oratorio — J S Bach

We tend not to think about all the aspects of Jesus’s life. We think about His ministry, His teaching and parables, His prayers, often enough: or so we should.

But when we think of His life, sometimes we are prejudiced by Sunday-school pamphlets, and greeting cards, and the holiday industries, to compartmentalize the events in His life – to view them as the settings and backgrounds for the really important stuff.

But it is not only surprising, but important to our faith, to think about all the aspects of Jesus’s life. It is very significant, for instance, that He came into the world pretty much as He left it: despised and disregarded; acknowledged for who He was by hardly anyone; a mere handful of people with Him at each event (but His mother, always there); in a borrowed stable at His birth, in a borrowed tomb at His death.

To think about these aspects confronts us with many things. One, at the Christmas season, is this: the simultaneous humility and grandeur of the incarnate God. For there was no “arc” to Jesus’s life, no “career” in the modern sense. He didn’t become flesh and dwell among us to incorporate a ministry, to establish a denomination, to build a business – even a religious, spiritual, faith-based organization as we call things today.

He came to save humanity from its sins, to offer the way to salvation, to redeem creation as the One True Way. Therefore His birth is very similar to His death… and it should cause us to think not just about what He did, but who He was.

Isaiah had prophesied: “…unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.” Notice that the “shalls” refer to the triumphant Jesus – still prophetic? – the “is” word referring to a child, to a son. Since Isaiah lived hundreds of years before Jesus, these logically could have been “shalls” too.

That aspect is for us to think about today. No less important than the words of Jesus or His coming reign… is the PERSON of Jesus. We all have had children, or have been children! Of course God wanted us to identify with His incarnate Self in the most powerful – and the most tender – way He could. A baby. A son.

He SHALL be called mighty; He SHALL be our counselor. But right now think of Him as a baby.

Hold Him in your arms. Love Him as He loves you.

Beautiful imagery accompanies a tender new song called “For Unto Us a Child is Born.”

Click:  For Unto Us a Child Is Born

Rick Marschall was on the editorial staff of the “1599 Geneva Bible Restoration Project” (Tolle Lege Press, 2007)

Another early Christmas message. But the best Christmas and Easter and Annunciation and Ascension messages can, and should, be shared every week of the year. Down with pigeon-holing.

There is a powerful song about a heart-wrenching story that was in the news in 2002. Britain’s Independent newspaper reported at the time: “For 30 years, Samir Ibrahim Salman had made his way dutifully to his task as bell ringer and caretaker at the fortress-like stone and wooden church revered by millions as the birthplace of Jesus Christ.”

Salman “crossed Manger Square to get to the church to climb the steps to the fourth-century bell tower as he did every day of the year. “Minutes later, Samir was struck by a bullet in the chest. It was an hour before an ambulance could reach him but by then, he was already dead. The Palestinians claim he was killed by an Israeli – the Israeli army says they did not fire a shot near the church. Samir, who was mentally disabled, may have been unaware of the danger.”

It was a time when Palestinian fighters, running from advancing Israeli troops, took refuge in the church. They and 40 Franciscan brothers, four nuns and approximately 30 Orthodox and Armenian monks were trapped in the basilica complex. There were also disputed claims about damage to the holy site built over the reputed manger where Jesus was born.

This story about hatred, violence, and bloodshed in Jesus’ hometown, perhaps over the spot where He was born, has resonance this Christmastide.

I shared with some friends that I would be writing this message. “Why make a martyr of an Islamic person, especially at this time of year?” some responded. “Why cite a song that talks about ‘Palestine?’” asked others. “That’s provocative!” However, Salman was an Arab, but not Islamic – he was a Palestinian Christian. How many Americans realize that Bethlehem has been governed by a Christian mayor and majority Christian council; and that there is a higher percentage of Christians there than in Israel? Concerning ‘Palestine,’ Bethlehem is not even in Israel but in the West Bank, under the Palestinian Authority with Israel’s full sanction.

But I want us to return again, remembering the Christmas season, to Nativity Square in Bethlehem. Samir Ibrahim Salman lay there alone. He died in the pool of his blood, maybe instantly, maybe slowly… no one was brave enough (or simple enough, as he was) to go out in the open. He had been beloved of the town, and special to the church, because he rang those bells as a volunteer every day of the year for decades, different bells for different occasions, serving Christ and his neighbors.

I do not lament only the hatred that shatters the calm of Bethlehem, or the peace of Jerusalem. Christians today are being slaughtered by the thousands, and driven from Iraq, which the US has “stabilized.” Jeremy Reynalds has written a news story revealing the truth for Assist New Service: http://www.assistnews.net/STORIES/2010/s10120042.htm

And in a brilliant but deeply disturbing report for World Magazine, Mindy Belz provides details of the US military’s (and NATO representatives’) answer to a question about whether persecuted Christians would be protected in Iraq. By us. Their answer was “No.” Under Saddam Hussein, 1.5-million Christians lived in relative security; today, fewer than 400,000 Christians remain in Iraq, many in fear.

Protected by the US? By our military security? “No.” Mindy correctly calls this “extermination by any other name.” http://www.worldmag.com/articles/17400 If American Christians betray Christians in Iraq (and China, and Myanmar, and…) we are not merely ignoring the wrong, or decrying the wrong; we’re on the side of the wrong.

Back to Bethlehem, where God chose to come in human form to reconcile ALL men unto Himself. This holy ground is where God chose to fulfill His promise from ages past, that through Him “all the nations of the earth shall be blessed.”

Who pulled the trigger of the gun that killed the simple Bell Ringer of Bethlehem? To those of us who are ignorant of the issues, who blindly perpetuate stereotypes, who support missions we don’t understand – and don’t support missionaries we ought to – we can shudder at the thought that we might have been closer to the triggerman than to the Bell Ringer that morning.

But as children of God, we have been given the ministry of reconciliation, to be ambassadors to a fallen world – peoples of all faiths, and no faith. Now THERE is a peace treaty! For the little town of Bethlehem, for everywhere.

Click: The Bethlehem Bell Ringer
(words are below)

Rick Marschall

The Bethlehem Bell Ringer
Carl Cleves / the Hottentots

An ancient church in Bethlehem,
A target in a battle of men,
Stands on the ground where Christ was born
Trapped inside the eye of a storm

Soldiers move from door to door
Mortar fire, it’s all-out war.
Army tanks patrol the street,
They treat civilians with conceit

Oh Jesus, please, help Palestine
Turn all that blood back into wine
Oh Turning Wheel, Divine Design
Please bring peace to Palestine

Samir Ibrahim Salman
Fulfills his task the best he can.
Each day at dawn he tolls the bells,
While all around the army shells

He walks across the Manger Square
For thirty years he’s lived near there,
A simple man who spends his time
In quiet prayer at Jesus’ shrine

Upon the roof a sniper aims
His bitter heart with hate inflames
Samir walks slow, his back bent low
And is struck down by the bullet’s blow

For many hours Samir lay there
Bleeding on the Manger Square.
No ambulance permitted near,
And so the bell ringer died here

An ancient church in Bethlehem
The bells of peace won’t chime again
The people now all live in fear
Grieving wails are all you hear

Oh Jesus, please, help Palestine
Turn all that blood back into wine
Oh Turning Wheel, Divine Design
Please bring peace to Palestine.

The Christmas story has become really sanitized.

I mean literally. How many depictions do we see, how often do we think, of the Christ Child in the manger, surrounded by shining angels, kindly shepherds, pretty sheep… and bugs and worms, rotted bits of feed and dung, dirt and moldy straw?

The manger was likely in a rough, dark, musty cave, not in an open-air lean-to that the greeting cards portray.

We can also wonder whether Joseph and Mary were told “no room in the inn!” not only because the city was crowded… but perhaps because innkeepers innkeepers greeted the newlyweds and asked when they were married, and reckoned she had been with child…

Homeless… a mother who was single when she conceived… rejected… forced to the humblest place in the city to be born, farm animals as attendants: the Bible accurately called it a lowly birth.

What has NOT been scrubbed clean from the story is that the Bible called it a lowly birth hundreds of years before it happened, in every particular – these details and many more. Truly this was the Son of God.

But we should not turn to the next pretty greeting card this Christmas season. Linger in that stable, and you will see more. You will see children today born in similar circumstances. Parents in distress. No place to live. Little to eat. Rejected and despised.

When God chose to humble Himself and become flesh, He emptied Himself of His royal nature, and became… middle class? A suburbanite fretting over student loans? Someone managing a household budget and hobbies? OK, those might not be profiles of average Bethlehemites of that time… but they are not profiles of millions of babies born around the world today, either.

God identified with the most basic level of humanity. He meets us at our humblest places, conditions, and realities.

When we think of this unsanitary and unsanitized picture of the Nativity, does it change our attitude toward Jesus, the Incarnate Lord, who came to live with us?

Does it change our attitude toward homeless, rejected, vulnerable, hungry children being born every day?

Does it change our attitude toward our own hearts?

Click: No Place To Lay His Head

It came upon a midnight clear… that is: the moment Thanksgiving Day ended, the Christmas Season formally began. That’s when I was a kid. Now the Christmas decorations in stores are festooned after Halloween, sometimes before that. Pretty soon, Santa Claus will be hunting for Easter eggs and marching in Fourth of July parades.

Nearly everyone decries the “commercialization of Christmas,” and so they should. But in American society it seems like the observance of Christmas itself might disappear before the culture of consumerism does. However, the commercial aspects of the holiday ultimately will harm the celebration of Christ’s birth as much as have the adoption of the pagan-originated date and the traditions of evergreen trees. Not much, unless we let it happen.

About which we say, Hallelujah!

Around us we see another seasonal tradition beginning, and this one we can embrace. In malls and shopping plazas, vocal ensembles and choral societies have been gathering, and, despite the fact that ‘tis the season to be shopping, they break out in the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah. The mighty music – and the mightier words – draws the attention of everybody within earshot.

In Philadelphia, the atrium of Macy’s Department Store is home to the largest pipe organ in the United States. Recently, 650 choristers mingled with shoppers until the moment to sing this wonderful music arrived, and the blast-furnace organ notes combined with thousands of voices (for shoppers joined in) – and it was glory indeed.

This has happened elsewhere too. Local organizers can claim that these are field-trips of singing clubs, or activities of an opera society; or publicity events; or class projects; maybe even churches’ outreach. (You will see in this video clip, signs proclaiming the performance a “random act of culture” – a rather secular camouflage.) Yet when all is said and done – or seen and sung – what has happened is the proclamation of the prophecy and birth of mankind’s Savior; of the Incarnation; of the promised reign of the Christ.

To mingle this news, and Handel’s anointed music, with busy shoppers and the preoccupations of a “holiday” season, is brilliant… redeeming the Message, and restoring its place in the midst of our lives, even for a moment; forever, and ever; Hallelujah!

Click:   Hallelujah!

Thanks to Marlene Bagnull of the Greater Philadelphia Christian Writers Conference for forwarding the clip linked above ( http://tinyurl.com/26hfmt8 ) from Philly; and to Diane Obbema for sending the clip of another Flash Mob singing the Hallelujah Chorus in a food court ( http://tinyurl.com/25xpqy8 ). There have been other such outbreaks around the country… maybe next year we will all participate in our own communities!

Sometimes they get it right. After all the changes, in schools and stores, of Easter observance to Spring break, Christmas to “Winter,” Thanksgiving to “Harvest”; not to mention President’s Day, which blurs the commemoration of ANY president by declaring it for EVERY president… I think it’s appropriate that “Decoration Day” of my youth is now called “Memorial Day.”

And then we had Armistice Day. According to legend, the World War I (the “war to end all wars”) cease-fire was held up until 11:11 on 11-11 to suit President Wilson’s whim. True or not, and not knowing how many extra corpses piled up to hold the schedule, it is characteristic of Wilson. OK, Armistice Day is now Veteran’s Day. Here the wider net of a title IS more appropriate.

An article this week in Assist News Service reviewed a new book by Pastor John MacArthur in which he contends that English-language translators have long mistranslated the word in the New Testament for “slave” as “servant.” http://www.assistnews.net/Stories/2010/s10110027.htm Perhaps translators were squeamish about the negative connotations of slavery, but if humans are described as slaves to sin, surely we can consider ourselves slaves to Christ. Just as surrender to God somehow brings victory, so can slavery to Christ bring freedom.

We need, then, to think of slavery in a new way, spiritually (and in its worldly aspects, too, because slavery still exists in many places). But we also can think of servanthood in a new way, too. Let us not forsake serving Christ, and let us remember that we serve Him by serving others.

Let us think this week, with Veteran’s Day coming, of “those who serve.”

No matter what any of us think of America’s two current wars, or any of the past wars, or any wars in general, it is the serviceman and servicewoman — think of the root word — who do the work that their countrymen are not able or not willing to do. Most servicemen do not hate the enemy: they might be taught to do so, but at most it is the leaders who define that policy. To me, the average serviceman (I am talking of any time, in any culture) does not primarily hate: he loves. The flag. The home soil. The way of life back home. This is a mighty picture of servanthood.

When they become veterans — that is, when they leave the military — it is the nation’s duty to serve THEM. The time, the sacrifices, the families left behind, the wounds and injuries… too often are all forgotten by an ungrateful nation. How many veterans feel that recognition of their service has been relegated to one holiday, in the minds of many?

Perhaps we should think of every day of the year as Veterans’ Day. Then maybe we can set one day apart for even more special thoughts — we could call November 11th “Servants’ Day.”

Here, again, a gospel song with special significance this week:

Click:  Gone Home

This week: Swirling days of Hallowe’en, Elections, and Reformation Day.

They are all, sort of, about the same things; this year anyway; if we regard Hallowe’en from the original perspective all All Saint’s Day.

This will not be a message primarily addressing the elections, although Reform is needed and Reform is driving the enthusiasm. It will not be a message about the perversion of All Hallow’s Eve, although it is a manifestation of the nexus of corrupted beliefs and commercial pollution in our culture. ’nuff said. Neither is my concern the anniversary of the Protestant Reformation — specifically, that is, Reformation Sunday, just observed. Nor the issues surrounding the Catholic Church almost 500 years ago.

For I don’t think the Reformation started with Luther’s nailing 95 Theses to the church door at Wittenberg. Of course its stirrings were in the protests and martyrdom of earlier believers. But in Luther’s case I believe the Reformation started when he made a pilgrimage to Rome.

(Click for a short movie clip) :   Martin Luther in Rome

He realized, clearly, what had been around him in the culture, especially the church culture — growing in intensity, sinking in shame. Perverted doctrine… sex scandals… monetary corruption… a loss of purity. That is when his conscience, and his Bible training, and the Holy Spirit moved him to revulsion.

Again: I am not thinking here of the Church then. I am thinking of the church now. As a Protestant, I know several of its denominations best, so I can address them best; and I am moved to revulsion too.

Perverted doctrine — Churches more concerned with political correctness than the Word of God — and a “pick and choose” theology that makes sinners the author of new dogmas.

Sex scandals — Shame to the clergy, across all Protestant denominations; the Catholic church rocked to its foundations in the US and Europe.

Monetary corruption — When TV preachers plead for “seed offerings” and “faith gifts” and make links between salvation and buying trinkets or “unlocking” the Prosperity Gospel with “love offerings”… how in hell is that different from buying indulgences, kissing rings, and venerating phony relics? Buy your way to heaven! What has changed since Luther’s trip to Rome?

A loss of purity — “Christian” churches today are more concerned with offending sinners than saving them; more concerned with ministering to bodies alone and not souls; more concerned with what unchurched kids, or agnostics, or Jews, or Muslims, or homosexuals, or Oprah, think… than what God thinks.

If Luther were here today, he would have 95 new theses, maybe more, to nail somewhere. Maybe on a lot of churches’ doors. Maybe on the doors of movie theaters. Maybe on TV screens and computer screens. Maybe on the doors of the White House and Congress and the Supreme Court. Maybe on my door, and maybe yours. But the… should WE be the new Martin Luthers?

If there be real reform on Reformation Week — and election week — let it begin with us. And if push-backs come, if persecution follows, let us remember Luther’s astounding words: “Here I stand. I can do no other.”

Music and history: Click   Here I Stand

Who is the person closest to you in life? Quick!

Sort of a trick question, because we should answer “Jesus,” but many of us think of family, spouses, friends; and great relationships should indeed spring to mind.

But Jesus is the answer to that question… even if people don’t feel like putting Him first on the list. Because He is always there, close to us. Closer than a shadow.

George Beverly Shea once told me a story that stuck with me (I can’t claim credit for such a great story with its deeper lesson!). An old farmer was driving his wife to town in their car. The wife looked across to her husband behind the wheel and said, “You know, when we were courting, we used to sit so close together in the front seat!” He looked over at her, and at the space between them, and asked, “Who moved?”

Of course the meaning is that sometimes we feel not as close to God as we used to. Sometimes the zeal of our young faith subsides; sometimes a crisis in our lives affects the intimacy we once had with God; sometimes doubts make God seem distant to us.

… but our cooling faith, our crises, our doubts do not place God at a distance. He will never leave us nor forsake us. Only we can make ourselves feel distant from Him.

So don’t “move” away from God, and then blame it on Him. Neither need we toss Him the wheel of the car, jump in His lap, or check off boxes on a list. Just invite Him: Abide With Me.

The simple words of this simple hymn are basically all He asks of us. Trust and rely on Jesus, feel His presence. And know what the invitation means: Abide means to dwell (the word is related to “abode”), to stay, to continue, to wait patiently, to accept, to endure, to support, to live… within you.

Who moves apart? Never the Lord!

Here is a moving performance of that simple and mighty hymn by one of the world’s most beautiful voices, Hayley Westenra of New Zealand. If you can listen with earphones, treat yourself.

Click:  Abide With Me