Monday Morning Music Ministry

6-12-17

A guest blog essay this week by my old friend Pastor Gary Adams of the Kelham Baptist Church in Oklahoma City. Gary and I went to high school together in Old Tappan NJ and shared, among other things, an admiration for William F Buckley. I could quote Bill, but Gary was able to add a dead-on impersonation and the distinctive pencil-tapping of the conservative hero.

Our most memorable adventure was the afternoon we got booted from Mr LaFemina’s Economics class. Our crime? Gary made a joke, and I laughed. The teacher was actually the funniest person in the entire school, so this must have been a bad day for him. Silver lining: we were banished to the History Department Office… where I cleverly (?) engaged its chairman, Mr Newman, in a discussion of our favorite scenes in Mozart’s Magic Flute.

We turned an embarrassment into a plus; climbed from the valley to a mountaintop that afternoon. Well, sort of. This is a segue to Gary’s guest column here, inspired, he suggests, by our Monday Ministry blog last week about life’s valleys. He wrote this for his church’s newsletter, Kelham Korner, and he packed a lot of Biblical history and Christian wisdom into an e-mail’s confines, better than I did.

In last week’s blog, titled “Are You Tired of Living in the Valley?” Rick mused on mountaintop experiences and mentioned a song by Dottie Rambo, “In the Valley He Restoreth My Soul.” The song notes, “Nothing grows high on a mountain, so He picked out a valley for me.”

I had never really considered that.

Some quick research revealed that in Colorado’s mountain communities “only three non-indigenous species (not native to the area) were found thriving above nine thousand feet,” the Piñon pine, Rocky Mountain juniper, and Green Ash. Food crops that grow at high altitude include leafy greens (lettuces, spinach, collards, turnip greens); root vegetables (carrots, beets, radishes, turnips, potatoes); peas; broccoli; cauliflower; Brussels sprouts; as well as various herbs. Some growers have had limited success with varieties of corn and pumpkins and Russian tomatoes (under cover). Food crops generally grow poorly on the mountaintop. Too little moisture, harsh conditions, and limited space to plant contribute to the difficulties of growing enough on which to survive when living on top of a mountain.

Mountaintop experiences draw our attention in the Bible: Noah and his family landing the ark on top of Ararat (Genesis 8); Abraham offering Isaac and receiving God’s promise of a Lamb (Genesis 22); Aaron and Hur holding up Moses’ arms (and staff) in the battle against Amalek (Exodus 17); Moses receiving the Ten Commandments (Exodus 32); David buying the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite (2 Samuel 24); Elijah and the prophets of Baal (1 Kings 18); Peter and James and John with Jesus on the mount of transfiguration (Matthew 17). All draw us into visible signs of God’s presence.

Each mountaintop experience comes surrounded by valleys. The ark rested on Ararat after the greatest worldwide disaster in history in which all but eight people died. Abraham journeyed to Moriah knowing God had called him to sacrifice his only son. Moses’ experience against Amalek came after the people of Israel were on the verge of stoning Moses for having no water.

While Moses was on Mount Sinai receiving the Ten Commandments, the people of Israel were in the valley building and worshipping a golden calf, and three thousand Israelites died as a result. David bought the threshing floor to build an altar to God to stop the plague that came as a result of his foolish numbering of the people. Elijah’s confrontation with the priests of Baal on Mount Carmel came in the midst of widespread idolatry and suffering (a drought of three and a half years) and was followed by Elijah fleeing to the cave in the desert where he heard God’s still, small voice call him back to complete his service.

And Peter and James and John’s experience on the mount of transfiguration followed Jesus’ announcement of his coming betrayal and crucifixion, followed by rebuking Peter for acting in the place of Satan.

Then there was Mount Calvary.

Truly, that was a great mountaintop experience for us. We sometimes forget it was preceded by Jesus’ sweating “as it were great drops of blood” (Luke 22:44) in the garden of Gethsemane. We forget that on Mount Calvary our Savior paid the horrendous price of bearing our sin. Could Jesus have borne the sufferings of Calvary without the prayer of Gethsemane?

Just as few crops grow on the mountaintop, we cannot live on the mountaintop. Rambo’s song says, “The Lord knows I can’t live on a mountain, so He picked out a valley for me…. Then He tells me there’s strength in my sorrow and there’s victory in trials for me.”

While we might prefer the mountaintop, the conditions for growth lie in the valleys. If we were never tested, we would never know God’s strength. If we were never tried, we would never know God’s faithfulness. If we were never broken, we would never know God’s ability to remake us and mold us into His image.

Craig Curry’s song, Still, is a declaration of faith in the faithfulness of God affirming that we will still trust, we will still praise, even when we are broken and wounded and in the valley, because “we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. … to be conformed to the image of his Son” (Rom. 8:28-29).

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Click: Still

3-31-13

Many of the new games that absorb young people worldwide – virtually obsessing them – are role-playing games. Video games, “gaming,” computer games, hand-held games, are largely dependent upon tech innovations and New Media. (That’s me, back there, in the dust.) The designs enable players to choose identities and play roles, and engage in “what if” scenarios.

When I worked for Marvel and for Disney, and otherwise wrote fiction, the goal generally was to focus on one character, develop a personality for him/her, and define a clear narrative path, with beginning, middle, and end. Today the computer gamers deal in bifurcation of heroes’ personalities and narrative options (or quadfurcation – yes, that’s a word – or further dispersal of story elements… what if’s… alternate realities).

My son-in-law is a computer-game programmer. As I said, part of my background is in comics and superheroes. When we get together, we usually talk about… the grandkids and the weather. Ha! Superficially similar, the new, popular adventure media are worlds apart from the… “old.”

However, I got to thinking recently about the Easter story in a new way. Through the prism of “role-playing.” Can we imagine ourselves as some of the principal players? What we would have done? How we would have reacted?

For instance: Judas and Peter. Two Disciples. Close friends for more than three years, the glue of their association was the mysterious and wondrous person named Jesus. They both gave up everything to follow Him. They listened to His wisdom, even when they did not always fully comprehend. They saw incredible acts of kindness, and devotion. They witnessed astonishing miracles.

When crunch time came, however, they were traitors. All the Disciples scattered like autumn leaves on a windy street when persecution began, but Judas and Peter were different. Judas betrayed Jesus to the Sanhedrin, the sure first-step to arrest by the Romans. He did it for money, like spies who betray their country. Peter betrayed Jesus by denying he even knew him – three times, not once.

Let’s role-play. Would you have done the same things? We can say “no” quickly… but remember, even Peter said he could never do such a thing when Jesus predicted it only hours previous! Which is worse in this exercise – “fingering” Jesus, or claiming to have nothing to do with Him? Remember also that Jesus, knowing all, told Judas to go and do his dirty work, in effect. Jesus knew everybody’s roles in advance, even if they did not.

The real role-playing challenge – and the lesson that waits for us – is the next level of their games. Both men were mortified, overwhelmed with guilt. Judas threw away his bribe money, and hanged himself. Peter cried for forgiveness, and soon renewed his devotion to the Messiah. In fact, I identify with the “early” Peter because he was always the impulsive and sometimes reckless Disciple, even to the Upper Room, after Resurrection and Ascension, till the Day of Pentecost. But when he waited upon the Holy Spirit, wisdom came upon him, and Peter became one of the great and effective Apostles.

We sin every day; that is, the rules of the game don’t vary: we all fall short of the glory of God. But the next level is amazing – we can choose incredibly different paths. We can remain in sin, or be so remorseful that we cripple ourselves. And, frankly, disappoint God all over again. A constantly repeating game, unhappy ending. OR we can confess our sins, ask forgiveness, proclaim devotion to the Savior, and dedicate ourselves to Him. Not just needing, but wanting, to serve others in His name.

Judas or Peter? Whose game will you play?

And let us not forget the “2.0” version of this game – which, of course, is not a game, in that our response must be deadly earnest and has tremendous consequences.

But Jesus played a role, too. He fulfilled all the elements of myriad prophecies – chapter 53 of Isaiah, alone, reads like a news account of the crucifixion in every detail… except it was written 600 years before the events! – and played them perfectly.

He role-played on the cross, too. He took the role of you. And me. We chose separation from God by our transgressions. We deserve punishments for our sins. We do not deserve to live with God in Glory; we fall short. But Jesus played a Holy game. He said to the Father, “In this story of eternal justice, I will play the role of…” and insert your name. Or my name, or anyone you can imagine. In fact, you can name people of His day, of our day, of people yet unborn; people who are sinners, even people who despise the name of Jesus.

He came to take your place in that great game of life. When He died, the rules were adjusted. When we accept Jesus as God’s own, and that His sacrifice, the shed blood, served just the purpose He stated, God no longer sees us – that is, our imperfect hearts – when He looks at us. He sees Jesus.

Rate that Holy Game “E” for Everyone.

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Click: He’s Alive!

1-23-12

Being in the cartoon business for most of my life, I am familiar with one of the standard clichés: someone arrives in Heaven and, bing, there are the Pearly Gates; a bearded St Peter; a giant guest register.

Easy to draw, hard to see. That is, to see in the way the Bible describes our first day in Heaven. There is no check-in procedure. No nervous waiting to hear whether the pencil we swiped in fifth grade will keep us out. And St Peter – oh, he will be there, among the multitudes we will want to meet. I burn with curiosity to, possibly, ask questions of Abraham and Moses and St Paul and Luther. And Job! Augustine! And countless martyrs who served the poor and the oppressed.

But the first thing that we will see will be Jesus, from my reading. The Bible says He is seated at the right hand of God’s throne, which might be so blinding white with glory as to obscure other things; yet we will not be able to take our eyes from it.

So, I think visually. But we all must, at least in this case. We imagine Heaven “through our minds’ eyes.”

There are some people for whom this is easier than for the rest of us. Many believers who are blind have testified that they can “see” a silver lining, so to speak, in their sightlessness. For instance, there is the factor of other senses being heightened. And there are the plausible cases for increased sensitivity to other peoples’ challenges. And a practical understanding of dependence. These things, the rest of us can imagine.

But many blind people have shared a unique and tender – but passionate – thrill of expectation that when their sight is restored, when they have their perfect bodies in Heaven, the first thing that they see will NOT be the “Pearly Gates.” That was the testimony of the blind hymn-writer (9000 hymns) Fanny Crosby; it is in the title of a song by the blind gospel singer Terri Gibbs: “The First Thing That I See Will Be Jesus.”

My good friend Anna Marie Spencer sent me a video this week of the latest such person to manifest that powerful faith. Ten-year-old Christopher Duffley was born blind and with severe autism. His mother had been on drugs; he was up for adoption. Pretty tough odds. But at the age of four he started to sing for Jesus, and has touched many people since then. Some day, in Glory, he and Fanny Crosby and Terri Gibbs will look at each other and share stories. I’d like to sketch that get-together.

In the meantime little Christopher sings. Amazingly. He teaches the rest of us onlookers how to overcome, how to triumph, how to… see. “Seeing,” after all, is most special in relation to what we look at. Those of us who sometimes are handicapped by taking good vision for granted, need to see that truth clearly.

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This brief video is of little Christopher Duffley singing “Open the Eyes of My Heart” in Manchester, New Hampshire. My guess is that most of the eyes that were upon him that evening not just saw, but wept, at this awesome performance.

Click: Open the Eyes of My Heart, Lord