Some appointments might as well be pencilled in. They are made so far in advance that by the time they come around, that half get cancelled and re-made. (That reminds me to call the dentist and reschedule an appointment.)
We got a telephone call at 3:30 in the morning today. The voice on the other end of the line was choked with tears as she said, "Mum has taken a turn for the worse...can you come?" Within minutes, we were on our way to the hospital. Traffic isn't a problem at 3:45am in Salmon Arm. Compared to some of the cities I have lived in, traffic is never a problem in Salmon Arm, with its five stop lights.
On the way, I wondered if this was going to be a false alarm. I responded to a hospital visit like this one and the person held on for two months. So, I wondered.....
When we arrived, most of the family were in the room, surrounding their dear mother. The dear old woman had fought a tough battle against cancer, and now, she appeared to be struggling, and loosing the struggle. How could it be, I wondered. I had seen her and talked with her just a week ago. Yesterday, she had been outside in the wheelchair looking at the flowers. Was it true, that she was close to depart this world?
I read some Scripture and prayed. Jannie and I sang a song, "What a Day That Will Be" as the family gathered close to their precious mother. Shortly after dawn, and not two hours from the time we arrived, we knew this was indeed the last moments for our friend.
Hebrews 9:27 says, "It is appointed unto man to die, and after that the judgement." I was reminded of that verse. There is an appointment made by my Creator for me. An appointment that is not pencilled in. It is an appointment that each and every one of us, if the Lord tarries, will keep. Indeed, our time here on earth is brief. Like the flowers that bloom and then so soon are withered and gone. So, also, from God's view, are our days. Seeing that we all will certainly make our appointments with God, how then ought we live?
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Unexpected Blessing
Trent and I went up Mount Ida on Tuesday looking for possible locations for a group camp site. We want to have an out of doors alternative location for a children's ministry. I used Google-Earth to search the mountain before we went out. I book marked three possible locations to explore.
At the end of a narrow, overgrown and four wheel drive access forestry service road, we found ourselves still two hundred yards from a possible camp site. The area had been logged some 20 years before. A forest had grown up again, and it obscured our view for anything more than 75 yards. So, we decided to hike it back into the forest and see if the area had water.
We had gone about 200 yards and found a low area and ravine that looked promising, so we went further. We ducked under fallen trees and climbed over others as we followed a well used game trail. Suddenly, Trent stopped and pointed to a pile of bear scat on the trail. "Is that what I think it is?" he said.
"Yep, it is bear scat and from a large bear, too," I answered.
A hundred yards further, Trent stopped and seemed to be searching the area before him, down in a low area. He pointed in a direction and said, "Is that a bear?"
Trent never hunted big game and that included bears; yet, he had been able to see the rump, back , and shoulder of a chocolate brown colored bear about 100 yards ahead, down in the trees. The bear had picked a nice "home" area. There was shade from the older growth trees, and small pools of water for drink.
The wind was in our favor, but I was concerned about our situation. "Why did I leave my rifle in the truck?" I asked myself.
"Let's get out of here while we can," I said softly, and we walked quickly down the game trail back towards the truck.
Back at the truck, I asked Trent if he wanted to continue on the search for camping sites, or would he like to go back into the woods to see if we could find that bear again. He said he had room in the freezer at home and thought a hunt might be worth a try.
This time, with rifle in hand, I took the lead and followed the game trail back to the area we saw the bear. In the last 100 yards, I slid the safety "off" the Ruger No.1, .458 Win Mag, single shot rifle. I inched forward, low to the trail, and slowly raised my head to look and then back down to creep forward again.
Just like before, I picked out the bear. He had moved into the shade, was on all fours, looking intently in my direction. It was evident that he had heard something of our approach. I checked the scope and made sure it was set at 2 power. I wanted a wide field of view in case things got busy real fast.
I moved slowly to the side, trying to find a view where the trees didn't obscure the bear. After moving five more yards, the bear got up, and began to move in my direction. He didn't act aggravated, he just slowly walked forward to a tree, and stood up on his hind legs. He reached up the tree with his claws. He was doing a territorial marking display. I thought to myself, "He must think I am another bear, snooping around his area."
The cross hairs of the scope were now resting solidly on the bear as he came off the tree and began to walk forward again. The mountain echoed with the resounding "BOOM" of the big gun. The bear never knew what hit him.
Back packing the meat out was a time for reflection. I was carrying 80 pounds of meat on my back, up hill. "Well," I told myself, "if my heart doesn't give out on this trip, I guess I am good for another year." The last fifty yards were up a rather steep grade. Trent put down his meat and pushed me from behind to help get up the hill. We made it back to the truck, with an unexpected blessing. God had given us some excellent meat, and we were grateful for it.
At the end of a narrow, overgrown and four wheel drive access forestry service road, we found ourselves still two hundred yards from a possible camp site. The area had been logged some 20 years before. A forest had grown up again, and it obscured our view for anything more than 75 yards. So, we decided to hike it back into the forest and see if the area had water.
We had gone about 200 yards and found a low area and ravine that looked promising, so we went further. We ducked under fallen trees and climbed over others as we followed a well used game trail. Suddenly, Trent stopped and pointed to a pile of bear scat on the trail. "Is that what I think it is?" he said.
"Yep, it is bear scat and from a large bear, too," I answered.
A hundred yards further, Trent stopped and seemed to be searching the area before him, down in a low area. He pointed in a direction and said, "Is that a bear?"
Trent never hunted big game and that included bears; yet, he had been able to see the rump, back , and shoulder of a chocolate brown colored bear about 100 yards ahead, down in the trees. The bear had picked a nice "home" area. There was shade from the older growth trees, and small pools of water for drink.
The wind was in our favor, but I was concerned about our situation. "Why did I leave my rifle in the truck?" I asked myself.
"Let's get out of here while we can," I said softly, and we walked quickly down the game trail back towards the truck.
Back at the truck, I asked Trent if he wanted to continue on the search for camping sites, or would he like to go back into the woods to see if we could find that bear again. He said he had room in the freezer at home and thought a hunt might be worth a try.
This time, with rifle in hand, I took the lead and followed the game trail back to the area we saw the bear. In the last 100 yards, I slid the safety "off" the Ruger No.1, .458 Win Mag, single shot rifle. I inched forward, low to the trail, and slowly raised my head to look and then back down to creep forward again.
Just like before, I picked out the bear. He had moved into the shade, was on all fours, looking intently in my direction. It was evident that he had heard something of our approach. I checked the scope and made sure it was set at 2 power. I wanted a wide field of view in case things got busy real fast.
I moved slowly to the side, trying to find a view where the trees didn't obscure the bear. After moving five more yards, the bear got up, and began to move in my direction. He didn't act aggravated, he just slowly walked forward to a tree, and stood up on his hind legs. He reached up the tree with his claws. He was doing a territorial marking display. I thought to myself, "He must think I am another bear, snooping around his area."
The cross hairs of the scope were now resting solidly on the bear as he came off the tree and began to walk forward again. The mountain echoed with the resounding "BOOM" of the big gun. The bear never knew what hit him.
Back packing the meat out was a time for reflection. I was carrying 80 pounds of meat on my back, up hill. "Well," I told myself, "if my heart doesn't give out on this trip, I guess I am good for another year." The last fifty yards were up a rather steep grade. Trent put down his meat and pushed me from behind to help get up the hill. We made it back to the truck, with an unexpected blessing. God had given us some excellent meat, and we were grateful for it.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Back in Salmon arm, BC
The trip to Holland was very good. It was good to visit with Jannie's mother, and with many of the family members during our two weeks there. The weather was unusually good. Well, good for us, in that it was sunny and warm every day. I enjoyed it, but felt concern for the farmers who really needed rain to get their crops starting. The rain did come, after we returned to Salmon Arm.
While in Holland, I was able to sit and write some 30 double sided pages of a draft about death for the Christian, death for the un-saved, judgement, and the resurrection. I still want to write on heaven and hell, but I have a good start from the study on the other material.
I re-connected with my grieving for my father -in-law. I guess I found myself accepting of the fact that I would not see him again on earth again, but a hundred memories would hit me each day. When I walked down the stairs, or opened the front door, or sat in the living room, or sang hymns after a meal, or went to church, I would think of him, ... and miss him. Still, it was good to be there and deal with it.
Jannie had a "girls day out" with sisters, and I got to hang out with the brothers for a day of excursions in the area. Both groups had good times doing very different things.
A few days after I returned home, I used to prepare for a NAIM men's retreat on Vancouver Island. There was time for sharing, encouragement, devotions, some hunting and fishing, and a lot of laughter.
Back at home, we quickly plugged back into ministry. We spent today on a mountain harvesting cedar tree roots. A group of us are learning to make birch bark baskets, and since we gather a lot of roots, we may get instruction in how to make the cedar root basket, too. The birch bark basket is tricky enough to last me a year to practice. I am not sure I am ready for the cedar root basket. That is really hard to perfect; but we shall see.
It is good to be "home".
While in Holland, I was able to sit and write some 30 double sided pages of a draft about death for the Christian, death for the un-saved, judgement, and the resurrection. I still want to write on heaven and hell, but I have a good start from the study on the other material.
I re-connected with my grieving for my father -in-law. I guess I found myself accepting of the fact that I would not see him again on earth again, but a hundred memories would hit me each day. When I walked down the stairs, or opened the front door, or sat in the living room, or sang hymns after a meal, or went to church, I would think of him, ... and miss him. Still, it was good to be there and deal with it.
Jannie had a "girls day out" with sisters, and I got to hang out with the brothers for a day of excursions in the area. Both groups had good times doing very different things.
A few days after I returned home, I used to prepare for a NAIM men's retreat on Vancouver Island. There was time for sharing, encouragement, devotions, some hunting and fishing, and a lot of laughter.
Back at home, we quickly plugged back into ministry. We spent today on a mountain harvesting cedar tree roots. A group of us are learning to make birch bark baskets, and since we gather a lot of roots, we may get instruction in how to make the cedar root basket, too. The birch bark basket is tricky enough to last me a year to practice. I am not sure I am ready for the cedar root basket. That is really hard to perfect; but we shall see.
It is good to be "home".
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Going Home
Experience has shown me that you can't really go "home". But, Jannie and I are going to visit her mother in the Netherlands. Some things will remain the same. The beautiful church which was built in the 1100's will welcome me with the same charm that it did 30 years ago. The city hall was built in the 1300's, the Plague was going through Europe at that time...that will look the same.
I think going to the family home will be emotional. The last time I was there was for the funeral of my friend and father-in-law. I suspect my grieving was put on hold with my quick removal from all those familiar sights, sounds, and smells. It will seem very odd indeed to be "home" and not hear the laughter of my friend.
Some people never get to go home. Daniel was taken into captivity when he was a young man and never went home. Joseph was sold into slavery and didn't go home. Moses was born in Egypt, went back as an old man and didn't find it to be a charming place anymore.
The Good Book speaks about longing for home, but not a home made with human hands. Home is where our Lord and Savior is. My mother, and father-in-law ( I prefer to call him 'my friend'), are there with Jesus. While I am in Holland, I plan to develop a sermon outline on "Going Home", a citizens guide to Heaven. I am looking forward to that study.
May God bless us with rest, and re-fresh us for our work back here.
I think going to the family home will be emotional. The last time I was there was for the funeral of my friend and father-in-law. I suspect my grieving was put on hold with my quick removal from all those familiar sights, sounds, and smells. It will seem very odd indeed to be "home" and not hear the laughter of my friend.
Some people never get to go home. Daniel was taken into captivity when he was a young man and never went home. Joseph was sold into slavery and didn't go home. Moses was born in Egypt, went back as an old man and didn't find it to be a charming place anymore.
The Good Book speaks about longing for home, but not a home made with human hands. Home is where our Lord and Savior is. My mother, and father-in-law ( I prefer to call him 'my friend'), are there with Jesus. While I am in Holland, I plan to develop a sermon outline on "Going Home", a citizens guide to Heaven. I am looking forward to that study.
May God bless us with rest, and re-fresh us for our work back here.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Anti-tradional bias
If I declared, "I don't kiss my wife, because that is just tradition, and it isn't in the Bible. I don't have to do it." One hearing those words would have to pity my poor wife. It would show a real misunderstanding of a normal expression of love within marriage.
Real love would move a person to want to be with their partner. Real love would be demonstrated by spending quality time together, words of affirmation, touch, acts of service, and gifts. Think about the soldiers or businessmen that travel and are separated from their families. They ache inside to be with the ones they love. They carry little pictures with them, precious little mementos that helps them feel connected, somehow. All of this is quite normal in human relationships. No security guard at the airport, looking through personal property picks up family pictures or a lock of hair and asks, "Why do you have this?!" We all understand the importance of connecting with our loved ones.
So, why is it so different for some people when we approach our love affair with God? Today is Thursday, the Thursday before Good Friday. It is known in the Church calendar as Maundy Thursday. Maundy comes from the latin word, mandatum, meaning a command. We celebrate Easter and the risen Christ, but four days before that was the Thursday that Jesus gave the commandment to "love one another." It was on that night that he celebrated that Last Supper. It was during the Last Supper that Jesus told his disciples to "do this in remembrance of me."It was on that night that he went to the garden and asked his followers to stay up with him and watch and pray. It was on that night that he was betrayed and arrested. All that brings more meaning to Good Friday, and Good Friday brings more celebration for Easter.
My research into Church history indicates the Church has "remembered" the events preceding the crucifixion since apostolic times. Remembrance for the Jewish believers was not just a cognitive process, but an experiential one, too. The Passover feast is a good comparison.
During the Passover meal, a child asks the question, "what makes this night different than every other?" The parent answers, "because we were slaves in Egypt, but are slaves no more."
The Passover is a re-enactment of the first event. The participants enter experientially into that first event, though thousands of years have passed in real time.
I have been blessed over the years by remembering Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, the Great Sabbath Saturday, and Easter. Remembering each day, focuses my soul on our Lord's great love for me and His world.
I was sharing this with a friend and he said, "That is just tradition. That isn't in the Bible, so I don't have to do it." I was stunned. Actually, I think a case can be made that we should do it as a fulfillment of our Lord's direction to "do this in remembrance of me."
I don't do this to earn God's love or earn points with God. It seems a natural expression of love for my God who did so much to reconcile me to Himself.
I suppose a value of anti-tradition is the legacy of the Puritans. With such abuses of tradition as Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, and the wickedness that makes up that celebration, I can understand the Puritan attitude against vain tradition. But throwing out all tradition is like throwing the baby out with the bath water. What a pity, when traditions can be a blessing.
Real love would move a person to want to be with their partner. Real love would be demonstrated by spending quality time together, words of affirmation, touch, acts of service, and gifts. Think about the soldiers or businessmen that travel and are separated from their families. They ache inside to be with the ones they love. They carry little pictures with them, precious little mementos that helps them feel connected, somehow. All of this is quite normal in human relationships. No security guard at the airport, looking through personal property picks up family pictures or a lock of hair and asks, "Why do you have this?!" We all understand the importance of connecting with our loved ones.
So, why is it so different for some people when we approach our love affair with God? Today is Thursday, the Thursday before Good Friday. It is known in the Church calendar as Maundy Thursday. Maundy comes from the latin word, mandatum, meaning a command. We celebrate Easter and the risen Christ, but four days before that was the Thursday that Jesus gave the commandment to "love one another." It was on that night that he celebrated that Last Supper. It was during the Last Supper that Jesus told his disciples to "do this in remembrance of me."It was on that night that he went to the garden and asked his followers to stay up with him and watch and pray. It was on that night that he was betrayed and arrested. All that brings more meaning to Good Friday, and Good Friday brings more celebration for Easter.
My research into Church history indicates the Church has "remembered" the events preceding the crucifixion since apostolic times. Remembrance for the Jewish believers was not just a cognitive process, but an experiential one, too. The Passover feast is a good comparison.
During the Passover meal, a child asks the question, "what makes this night different than every other?" The parent answers, "because we were slaves in Egypt, but are slaves no more."
The Passover is a re-enactment of the first event. The participants enter experientially into that first event, though thousands of years have passed in real time.
I have been blessed over the years by remembering Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, the Great Sabbath Saturday, and Easter. Remembering each day, focuses my soul on our Lord's great love for me and His world.
I was sharing this with a friend and he said, "That is just tradition. That isn't in the Bible, so I don't have to do it." I was stunned. Actually, I think a case can be made that we should do it as a fulfillment of our Lord's direction to "do this in remembrance of me."
I don't do this to earn God's love or earn points with God. It seems a natural expression of love for my God who did so much to reconcile me to Himself.
I suppose a value of anti-tradition is the legacy of the Puritans. With such abuses of tradition as Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, and the wickedness that makes up that celebration, I can understand the Puritan attitude against vain tradition. But throwing out all tradition is like throwing the baby out with the bath water. What a pity, when traditions can be a blessing.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Selective Obedience
The Lord Jesus said, "Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations..."; and again "...you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
I am grateful for those faithful Believers that live out that verse. They are witnesses to their neighbors, and they are the ones that support missions. They are an encouragement to me. May God bless them and may their tribe increase.
I have to wonder at how people can read those words from our Lord and Savior, and seem to think that Jesus was making a suggestion, and not a command. What makes me more confused is thinking that the reason that some faithful church goers think like that is because they got it from their pastor! It makes my head spin to think that a pastor, a minister of the Word, could delude himself into thinking that Jesus Christ was offering an elective response in the 28 words quoted above! I am thinking mainly of pastors and church leadership as I write this.
King Saul evidently deluded himself about obedience in 1 Samuel 15. He had a clear mandate from God to destroy the Amalekites and their livestock. He partially obeyed the directive and in verse 22 received the scathing rebuke, "Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the voice of the Lord? To obey is better than sacrifice..." The Lord was not pleased with partial obedience. King Saul was rejected as king because of his selective obedience.
So, I wonder as I look around at churches that are 20+ years old, and ask, "How are they measuring up to the Lord Jesus command; what is that church's commitment to missions?"
If I look at the budget of the church, what percentile is dedicated to missions, and what percentile is committed to serving the interests of the church? The answer tells much about the focus of the church.
Then, I look at the evangelistic outreaches that the church supports. Some churches have a special bulletin board, or a wall dedicated to showing where the missionaries are that they support. Usually, those bulletin boards show the obedience to the command to "go to the ends of the earth." Look for the local obedience to serving Jerusalem, Judea, and Samaria, and you hear only silence. Why?
Maybe it is a cultural thing. Maybe the North-American Christian has been led to believe that putting money in the offering plate satisfies our Lord's command. In part, it does, but we are still stuck with the rest of the command, to reach out to our Jerusalem, Judea, and Samaria.
Jerusalem, for the first century Believers, was mostly dealing with the same culture. It was for some, the place of their greatest failure, too. The disciples fled from Jesus in the garden. Peter denied the Lord. Being a witness for Christ to family, friends, co-workers can be a hard mission field. It was for the early church, and it is for us today.
Judea was still much of the same culture, but a little further away, and easier to forget. It took more effort to do outreach there. There might be more cultural variation, poor roads, more hardships to endure, in Judea.
Samaria was the location of the half breeds. They were openly despised by the Jewish people and called "dogs". The culture was different, and they were a poorer community. Yet, the Lord Jesus sends the early church to minister to the place of greatest defeat, some hardships, and even to confront racism and poverty.
How does the local church really measure up to obeying our command to show the love of Jesus in their own Jerusalem, Judea, and Samaria? Back east, the churches have Hispanic communities, or ethnic Afro-American communities. Out here in the West, we have Indian people in our "Judea and Samaria".
I wonder when church leaders face the Bema Seat of judgment, and they are asked about how they attempted to fulfill our Lord's command, what will the response be? "Lord, we raised money for mission projects in Africa, South America, Mexico, etc..." and the long list of "to the ends of the earth" is proclaimed. But when it comes to building relationships with different cultures that were right next door, the pastor will have to drop his eyes in shame, for he did not lead the church to fulfill the whole command of the Lord.
Maybe it is too ugly to say it out loud, but I wonder if the reason why some Christian radio stations do not have cross-cultural programming is because those minority communities don't have the money?
Is it possible that pastors, elders, and deacons do not reach out to the minorities in their "Samaria" because "those people" are needy and would be a drain on the budget? Perhaps others don't reach out because they know that if the minorities in their "Samaria" started coming to their church, then that might mean a change in the church? That would mean different music, (and we all know how churches can fight about their preferences in music, don't we? )
Fulfilling the commands of our Lord meant that the people of the early church were to connect with their neighbors, those across town, and the ethnic minorities around them, and to reach out to the distant lands as they were able. I think it is the same for us today. Instead of thinking of ministry as a "program", we need to be willing to do the sometimes hard work of divesting ourselves of our cultural preferences and for the love of Christ, try to put on the culture of our neighbors. Evangelism has always been carried by the same means, relationships. Perhaps our North-American culture has numbed our consciences to believe that we are pleasing the Lord with a little program for the community, or money in the offering plate.
Some smaller churches do not have the means to reach out beyond their local area. That isn't the heart of the matter, is it? Isn't the real matter, "to whom much given, much is required." What do we do with the spiritual gifts and resourced that He has given us to use in His name? Are leaders in churches responsive to the Great Commission in part, or in the whole?
"...It is required that those who have been given a trust must prove faithful." 1 Cor. 4:2.
(Well, I beg the pardon of some that might be offended because I openly shared my thoughts. This is a blog-site after all, and not a doctoral dissertation. I know many pastors and church leaders that are truly reaching out to their "Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria and beyond." They are doing the best they know how, with what God has given them to use. Yet, I know of other churches that seem to exist to serve themselves, the honor of their name, and comfort zone.
May God help us all to offer obedience and not just sacrifice to the honor of His Name.)
I am grateful for those faithful Believers that live out that verse. They are witnesses to their neighbors, and they are the ones that support missions. They are an encouragement to me. May God bless them and may their tribe increase.
I have to wonder at how people can read those words from our Lord and Savior, and seem to think that Jesus was making a suggestion, and not a command. What makes me more confused is thinking that the reason that some faithful church goers think like that is because they got it from their pastor! It makes my head spin to think that a pastor, a minister of the Word, could delude himself into thinking that Jesus Christ was offering an elective response in the 28 words quoted above! I am thinking mainly of pastors and church leadership as I write this.
King Saul evidently deluded himself about obedience in 1 Samuel 15. He had a clear mandate from God to destroy the Amalekites and their livestock. He partially obeyed the directive and in verse 22 received the scathing rebuke, "Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the voice of the Lord? To obey is better than sacrifice..." The Lord was not pleased with partial obedience. King Saul was rejected as king because of his selective obedience.
So, I wonder as I look around at churches that are 20+ years old, and ask, "How are they measuring up to the Lord Jesus command; what is that church's commitment to missions?"
If I look at the budget of the church, what percentile is dedicated to missions, and what percentile is committed to serving the interests of the church? The answer tells much about the focus of the church.
Then, I look at the evangelistic outreaches that the church supports. Some churches have a special bulletin board, or a wall dedicated to showing where the missionaries are that they support. Usually, those bulletin boards show the obedience to the command to "go to the ends of the earth." Look for the local obedience to serving Jerusalem, Judea, and Samaria, and you hear only silence. Why?
Maybe it is a cultural thing. Maybe the North-American Christian has been led to believe that putting money in the offering plate satisfies our Lord's command. In part, it does, but we are still stuck with the rest of the command, to reach out to our Jerusalem, Judea, and Samaria.
Jerusalem, for the first century Believers, was mostly dealing with the same culture. It was for some, the place of their greatest failure, too. The disciples fled from Jesus in the garden. Peter denied the Lord. Being a witness for Christ to family, friends, co-workers can be a hard mission field. It was for the early church, and it is for us today.
Judea was still much of the same culture, but a little further away, and easier to forget. It took more effort to do outreach there. There might be more cultural variation, poor roads, more hardships to endure, in Judea.
Samaria was the location of the half breeds. They were openly despised by the Jewish people and called "dogs". The culture was different, and they were a poorer community. Yet, the Lord Jesus sends the early church to minister to the place of greatest defeat, some hardships, and even to confront racism and poverty.
How does the local church really measure up to obeying our command to show the love of Jesus in their own Jerusalem, Judea, and Samaria? Back east, the churches have Hispanic communities, or ethnic Afro-American communities. Out here in the West, we have Indian people in our "Judea and Samaria".
I wonder when church leaders face the Bema Seat of judgment, and they are asked about how they attempted to fulfill our Lord's command, what will the response be? "Lord, we raised money for mission projects in Africa, South America, Mexico, etc..." and the long list of "to the ends of the earth" is proclaimed. But when it comes to building relationships with different cultures that were right next door, the pastor will have to drop his eyes in shame, for he did not lead the church to fulfill the whole command of the Lord.
Maybe it is too ugly to say it out loud, but I wonder if the reason why some Christian radio stations do not have cross-cultural programming is because those minority communities don't have the money?
Is it possible that pastors, elders, and deacons do not reach out to the minorities in their "Samaria" because "those people" are needy and would be a drain on the budget? Perhaps others don't reach out because they know that if the minorities in their "Samaria" started coming to their church, then that might mean a change in the church? That would mean different music, (and we all know how churches can fight about their preferences in music, don't we? )
Fulfilling the commands of our Lord meant that the people of the early church were to connect with their neighbors, those across town, and the ethnic minorities around them, and to reach out to the distant lands as they were able. I think it is the same for us today. Instead of thinking of ministry as a "program", we need to be willing to do the sometimes hard work of divesting ourselves of our cultural preferences and for the love of Christ, try to put on the culture of our neighbors. Evangelism has always been carried by the same means, relationships. Perhaps our North-American culture has numbed our consciences to believe that we are pleasing the Lord with a little program for the community, or money in the offering plate.
Some smaller churches do not have the means to reach out beyond their local area. That isn't the heart of the matter, is it? Isn't the real matter, "to whom much given, much is required." What do we do with the spiritual gifts and resourced that He has given us to use in His name? Are leaders in churches responsive to the Great Commission in part, or in the whole?
"...It is required that those who have been given a trust must prove faithful." 1 Cor. 4:2.
(Well, I beg the pardon of some that might be offended because I openly shared my thoughts. This is a blog-site after all, and not a doctoral dissertation. I know many pastors and church leaders that are truly reaching out to their "Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria and beyond." They are doing the best they know how, with what God has given them to use. Yet, I know of other churches that seem to exist to serve themselves, the honor of their name, and comfort zone.
May God help us all to offer obedience and not just sacrifice to the honor of His Name.)
Exercise and St. Benedict
I have times of great productivity. I am reading, teaching, participating in meetings, writing, and generally doing well. Then there are the times of silence, and they are usually at the end of winter. I don’t know, maybe my mind reaches a saturation point of activity and then “locks up”, like my computer does. I just know that there are times of silence that come into my life. There will be times when I can’t read much. Developing lesson plans for teaching or writing sermons is hard. It is like trying to read when you have the flu and have taken night time cold medicine. Why bother…it is so frustrating.
I shared my frustration with the silence with a brother in the Lord. He asked if I had a regular exercise program. I said that I get plenty of exercise with the arrival of spring, summer and fall. My friend said that he has struggled with depression in the past and to keep it away, he is careful to maintain an exercise program.
I had a witness inside that he was right. My older brother once said the same thing a couple of years ago,but I didn't want to hear it then. I don’t like jogging. I don’t like going to a gym. I work plenty when I am hunting, or paddling, and actually doing something. Jogging is working up a sweat without going anywhere or getting anything done. Well, that is how I thought, anyway.
I am trying to follow my friend’s advice and get a cardiovascular work out (whether I like it or not.) I am beginning to see that jogging is working up a sweat because it is good for me. I may not have a tangible thing to show for the effort, but it does have benefits. It is supposed to increase my energy level, and help me sleep better. (I thought coffee did that in the morning, and no coffee after 6pm let me sleep.) :)
But what if the exercise wears me out to soon? Ever go to the auto parts store and ask for a thingy for a 1976 Plymouth, and the clerk looks from the computer at you and around the store, to see if Candid Camera was putting a joke on him. He looks back at you and his look changes to one of amazement, that into his life should walk a person and that might really expect that a parts store would have parts that go back 30+ years. Mustering up his kindest voice, and a look of pity, the parts clerk says slowly, just incase you are not only dumb but also hard of hearing, too, “Better go to the junk yard and see if they can help you…we don’t store parts that far back.”
Well, I only have so much cartilage, and when that wears out, it is gone! I am an older model than the 1976 Plymouth, and the parts store can’t replace things that wear out. Didn’t St. Benedict preach “everything in moderation”? So, having a moderate approach to exercise would be good, right?
So, if St. Benedict were to inquire, “How is no exercise in the winter being moderate?” how would I respond?
Okay, “busted.” My brother was right, and my friend was right, and so was St. Benedict.
I guess I will have to include exercise into my life and worry about the parts wearing out later. I sure a glad Spring bear hunting is coming soon. :)
I shared my frustration with the silence with a brother in the Lord. He asked if I had a regular exercise program. I said that I get plenty of exercise with the arrival of spring, summer and fall. My friend said that he has struggled with depression in the past and to keep it away, he is careful to maintain an exercise program.
I had a witness inside that he was right. My older brother once said the same thing a couple of years ago,but I didn't want to hear it then. I don’t like jogging. I don’t like going to a gym. I work plenty when I am hunting, or paddling, and actually doing something. Jogging is working up a sweat without going anywhere or getting anything done. Well, that is how I thought, anyway.
I am trying to follow my friend’s advice and get a cardiovascular work out (whether I like it or not.) I am beginning to see that jogging is working up a sweat because it is good for me. I may not have a tangible thing to show for the effort, but it does have benefits. It is supposed to increase my energy level, and help me sleep better. (I thought coffee did that in the morning, and no coffee after 6pm let me sleep.) :)
But what if the exercise wears me out to soon? Ever go to the auto parts store and ask for a thingy for a 1976 Plymouth, and the clerk looks from the computer at you and around the store, to see if Candid Camera was putting a joke on him. He looks back at you and his look changes to one of amazement, that into his life should walk a person and that might really expect that a parts store would have parts that go back 30+ years. Mustering up his kindest voice, and a look of pity, the parts clerk says slowly, just incase you are not only dumb but also hard of hearing, too, “Better go to the junk yard and see if they can help you…we don’t store parts that far back.”
Well, I only have so much cartilage, and when that wears out, it is gone! I am an older model than the 1976 Plymouth, and the parts store can’t replace things that wear out. Didn’t St. Benedict preach “everything in moderation”? So, having a moderate approach to exercise would be good, right?
So, if St. Benedict were to inquire, “How is no exercise in the winter being moderate?” how would I respond?
Okay, “busted.” My brother was right, and my friend was right, and so was St. Benedict.
I guess I will have to include exercise into my life and worry about the parts wearing out later. I sure a glad Spring bear hunting is coming soon. :)
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