Bindings

PIONEER COLUMN (Aug '09): Take a Leap

2009-08-15T14:50:00.003-04:00

A few years ago I helped transport my husband’s granddaughters to and from Vacation Bible School. Each afternoon I picked them up, dropped them at the church, then returned a few hours later to collect the girls and all their trinkets (pens and pencils, key chains, balloons, and bookmarks are synonymous with VBS) and delivered them to their mother.

Now every family has at least one child who needs to be reminded of what to do once she leaves the car. In this case, the youngest granddaughter needed explicit directions for what belonged in her house (sweatshirt, shoes, goodie bag, craft project) and what belonged in my car (nothing). She pulled on her shoes, tossed her sweatshirt into her goodie bag and ran toward the house.

"Hey,” I called after her. “Don’t forget your craft.”

“You can bring it,” she replied.

“No. You carried it to the car; you can get it to the house.”

“You can have it,” she called, pulling the screen door behind her.

Being rather stubborn myself, the craft remained in my car. She’ll miss it, I thought. I’ll return it when she asks for it.

Well, that was three years ago. Today that craft project hangs on the bulletin board next to my desk. One-and-a-half paper plates inverted, glued together and painted green, two eyes fixed to the top and four legs attached to the bottom. Daily, it serves to prompt my only true function for the day.

It’s my reminder to F-R-O-G—to Fully Rely On God.

This cute paper frog came into my life at a time I really needed his prompting. I had been struggling with God’s call on my life—a call to pastoral ministry. Was it really something I could do?

I felt pretty confident of the preaching and teaching roles. And the pastoral care—visiting and counseling—that was something that particularly suited me.

But my call seemed to speak specifically to outreach—gathering people to the safety and nurture of the church. Could I risk rejection to become an inviter?

And the administration...meetings and paperwork and keeping a budget in line. Could I handle the managerial aspects of running a church?

Solomon faced a similar dilemma when, at age 20, he was anointed to serve as king of Israel. Having received little mentoring or instruction from his faithful father David, Solomon earnestly sought help from God. He led the military officials and judges and heads of families to the place of worship. A thousand offerings were placed one after another on the holy bronze altar. Solomon waited in the quiet of the night. God appeared and asked what he wanted.

Solomon’s simple request was for wisdom to lead the tumultuous nation. He understood that he lacked experience. He acknowledged that he didn’t know how to lead. He recognized that his own natural inclinations were insufficient to guide the nation. With sincere humility, Solomon asked God for the understanding heart to judge, to discern between good and evil (1 Kings 3:9). Solomon Fully Relied on God to supply the wisdom to rule God’s people.

The frog on my bulletin board reminds me that I don’t have to rely on my training, experience, or even natural talent in order to do the work God has called me to do. There are many things I can’t do on my own. The frog reminds me that I’m not expected to do them on my own. I am, however, expected to F-R-O-G, to trust that He will supply what is needed…for me…and for the church He’s given me to lead.

PIONEER COLUMN (July '09) - Letting go

2009-07-17T16:55:00.003-04:00

A few years ago my pastor preached a sermon on unabashed, uninhibited, totally abandoned worship. The kind of worship that displays devotion to God with no regard for pride or embarrassment. The kind of worship that’s a heartfelt expression, setting aside all concern for keeping up appearances.

Pastor was teaching the story of David bringing the Ark of the Covenant to rest in Jerusalem. 2 Samuel describes a festive occasion—cheering crowds, the sounding of the trumpets, and dancing in the streets. In fact, King David himself danced before the Lord, “with all his might” (2 Samuel 6:14). David left his regal demeanor and attire behind. He danced with zealous excitement that gave homage—respect, reverence—to God.

Respect? Reverence? A king and mighty warrior dressed in a simple tunic, an under garment, dancing through the streets as an act of reverence?

The passage moved our pastor to one of those humbling comparison points: would I be able to cast aside my inhibitions to worship God so freely? He admitted he wasn’t sure he could. Far from being a reserved man, the prospect of being so transparent as to dance in his underwear—even before the Lord—struck him as difficult.

Most people don’t remember this self-admission. It’s the outrageousness that sticks in their memories. Years later people still remark, “You’re not going to dance in your underwear, are you Pastor?” Because dancing for God with all your might, dressed only in your underwear is not reverent. It’s just ridiculous.

And that’s how David’s wife, Michal, saw things. Her sarcastic quip, “How the king distinguished himself today!” (2 Samuel 6:20) revealed that her husband’s display was simply low-class.

We tend to look at homage to God—reverence—as a somber experience. It calls for quiet, stillness, our most reserved self. Yet this reverence at times holds us back, keeps us from giving God the best we have. We control the behavior instead of letting our spirits speak to God.

David’s dance speaks of joy and thankfulness for the return of the ark—the container holding the Ten Commandments, and to the ancient Israelites, the representation of the very presence of God. David’s attire speaks of humility, perhaps even penitence. See, the first venture to bring the ark to Jerusalem was anything but reverent.

Somewhere in the history of God’s people the sacred and mysterious instructions for transporting the holy objects were lost. God had detailed the proper procedure for traveling with the ark. Two gold-plated poles were inserted into four gold rings attached at each side of the box. The poles were lifted, and the ark rose above the shoulders of the carriers. The traveling Israelites processed behind at a distance of about half a mile. Though the ark was out of their sight lines, the people stepped out. By day or night, God remained with them as a pillar of cloud or fire, showing the way.

The first attempt to move the ark was little more than corporate relocation. The moving company pulled up, hoisted the ark to a cart, hitched the cart to a team of oxen, and hit the road with two men leading the way. It was an efficient and expedient operation, but it wasn’t reverent. God was not honored and He canceled the move.

In time, David tried again…with four priests serving as ark bearers. And when they had taken only six steps, the procession came to a halt and the company offered sacrifice to the Lord. They had it right—they were giving God the honor He deserved. And it was cause for unrestrained, jubilant worship all the way to the city of Jerusalem.

Reverence is the response to the sanctity and mystery of God. Sometimes that response is quiet humility. Sometimes it is singing. Or fasting. Or feeding the hungry and visiting the sick. Or reflecting on His word. Or dancing—even dancing before Him in your underwear.

PIONEER COLUMN (June 09) - Everyone Act Medium

2009-07-14T08:33:00.003-04:00

The children gathered inside their rough shelter. Though slapped together with scrap lumber and plywood, their clubhouse was a tight and sturdy structure. And comfortable, too, thanks to the carpet remnants covering the dirt floor. The clubhouse served them well as the site for games, sharing secrets, and just plain hiding out.

It was during a time of quiet hiding that the idea of official rules was proposed. They were a club, after all. An organization with a purpose. Rules were expected. So after short deliberation, the club established three comprehensive rules:
1) Nobody act big.
2) Nobody act small.
3) Everybody act medium.

Everybody act medium. Isn’t that great? Big. Small. Medium. Isn’t that just like kids? Wisdom we could all adopt for our “clubs.”

Because we know people who act big—people who focus the attention on themselves. They brag. They correct. They cop an attitude. They want to win you over. Most often, people who use bravado are convinced you will like them—will want to be with them, and be like them—once you understand how smart or strong or talented they are.

But the sad fact is, these are the people you want to see fail.

God knows this is our human reaction. So He warns, Let someone else praise you, not your own mouth—a stranger, not your own lips (Proverbs 27:2 NLT). That’s acting medium…letting someone else praise you.

Acting small—thinking you’re not good enough—should also be banned in our clubs. Small act-ers make excuses that keep them from becoming the people God intended them to be. They say, “But I’m not pretty enough/smart enough/talented enough” or “I don’t have the right name in this town.” They stay small with their excuses.

And sometimes misinterpretation of Scripture leads people to act small. Jesus often warned about the dangers of self-promotion. In Luke 14:11 He said, All who make themselves great will be made humble, but all who make themselves humble will be made great.

A person might take to heart just a small part of the verse, make themselves humble, and put on a cover of wretchedness in order to be humble. But no one is unworthy to God. Taking an attitude of not being good enough dishonors our Creator.

The Scripture is also misinterpreted when it is manipulated. When a person claims all who make themselves humble will be made great as a promise for this world, humility is misused. This person is seeking the recognition of man. When you consider God has something far greater for us, that is acting pretty small. God wants to be the One who makes you great. That’s acting medium…letting God give your humble work recognition.

God calls us to be medium people: Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves (Philippians 2:3 – 4 NLT).

So, what does it take to be a medium person? Three things:
1) Be yourself. Be the person God made you to be (if you don’t know, ask Him). Be genuine; be sincere. Don’t be a phony. Be transparent and willing to take risks. Are you shy? Take a risk and introduce yourself to others. Do you cry easily? Let people see your tears. Are you having a hard time? Share it with someone. Let someone help you carry the burden.
2) Be willing to be less of yourself. If you have outstanding talent, step aside. Let someone else have the glory. And then be their greatest cheerleader.
3) Be willing to be more of yourself...in Christ. Let more of Jesus shine through you. What would that look like? It would be an aura of patience and kindness, but not jealousy or boasting or pride or rudeness. It would allow others to have their way. It would not be irritable and would not keep tally of wrongs. It would not celebrate injustice, but rejoice when truth triumphs. It would never give up, never lose faith, would always be hopeful. It would endure through every circumstance (1 Corinthians 13:4 – 7 paraphrase). Being more of yourself in Christ is letting the love of Jesus shine through.

PIONEER COLUMN (April 09) - A Story to Tell

2009-07-14T08:28:00.004-04:00

It has all the elements of a top-rated soap opera: an extramarital affair, unplanned pregnancy, murder, remarriage. But this story doesn’t come from prime time television. This is the story of King David.

For months David lived with the secret of his affair with Bathsheba…months that cost him physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Unable to eat or keep food down, his body wasted away. Guilt can do that—it can steal the appetite or stir up the stomach. It left David with no energy. Keeping his secret took everything he had. Secrets require vigilance against betrayers. Trusting no one, suspicion drained David like the heaviness of summer heat.

But when confronted, David’s eyes opened. He recognized the affair as sin. David saw clearly that he had sinned against God. Against You, You only, I have sinned and done what is evil in Your sight -- Psalm 51:4. The affair affected many people—many had been hurt, some even died—but David’s sin was against God’s commands for holy living.

David mourned his transgressions. He was never away from them. He recognized the distance between him and God. He begged: Wash me, cleanse me, purify me, blot out my transgressions.

Then he asked for the one thing sorely missing in his life—joy. Restore to me the joy of Your salvation—Psalm 51:12. Until sin was made apparent, David hadn’t even realized the joy was AWOL.

Isn’t that the way it goes? There’s no joy in keeping a secret. We fear what could happen if it came out…we’d be ruined, abandoned, shamed. Yet living with the secret, protecting it, ever suspicious, watching our backs…there’s no joy or satisfaction in that kind of living.

With confession came forgiveness. And David rejoiced. He declared, Open my lips that my mouth may declare your praise. Then my tongue will joyfully sing of Your righteousness (verses 14, 15). This was no time to be silent. It was time to speak up with praise and joyful singing. It was time to tell of the good things of God. It was time to share what God had done: David had been delivered, washed clean, the sin erased. He was able to start anew.

Oh, the world needed to know. And so David promised, God, when they hear my story, they’ll know just how awesome you are.

When Mary and the other women went to the tomb that Sunday morning, they found…joy. They had lived through three days of unbelievable sorrow. They had seen their beloved Jesus nailed to a cross, suffocating as His lungs collapsed. The women looked up at the cross and their eyes were opened. Jesus became sin—their sin.
The next day, they mourned. They cried out to God. They begged for another chance, a do-over. To be restored to Jesus. To be clean and renewed, ready to give it another try, a better try.

And on Sunday, they found the empty tomb. Jesus’ body was gone. They were confused…till the angel let them know that Jesus was not in the grave. Tombs are for dead people and Jesus was alive.
Jesus was alive.

The women ran to tell the others—JESUS IS ALIVE.

Do you think they had joy?

We are nearly to the end of the time of self-denial called Lent. This season culminates with the events remembered this weekend. Today, we recall Jesus on that cross…high and lifted up…He who had no sin made to be sin for us. Tomorrow is a day of reflecting, crying out, asking for God’s mercy.

And Sunday is our day of joy restored.

What do you do when you have joy restored?
You share the Good News. Let others know the marvelous things that God has done. Open your lips. Let your tongue joyfully sing. Open your mouths to declare your praise. JESUS IS ALIVE.

PIONEER COLUMN (March 2009): mwa, mwa, mwa

2009-03-13T16:53:00.002-04:00

If you caught my husband’s most recent Pioneer column you met Diva, our 13-year-old Bichon Frise. Mike compared Diva’s adoration for us to the adoration we should have for our Master. Perhaps you were touched by Mike’s description of Diva lounging among our shoes or nesting in a jacket. She is adorable. And when I come home after a long day, it’s like she’s been fixed in place, just waiting for my return. How touching is that?

While Diva is a loving and faithful companion, the one thing Mike did not mention is that she’s not real smart. It’s OK…I’ll choose faithful and affectionate over intelligent any day. But sometimes I do wish she could figure out how to get the kibble from under the table without needing me to move the chairs around.

She doesn’t understand much of what I say to her. I don’t think it’s selective hearing…she’s just not very bright. She picks up certain words: “walk,” “outside,” and “go to bed.” Other than that, I’m sure my speech pretty much resembles that of Charlie Brown’s teacher’s: “mwa mwa mwa.” My lips are moving and something’s coming out, but to Diva it’s all gibberish.

To the people of ancient Corinth, much of what the Apostle Paul had to say was gibberish…nonsense. Paul came to the busy Greek trading city to share the gospel with the mostly Gentile population. He taught about the freedom of life in Christ—the Jewish Messiah who came to save the world. He preached about Jesus’ death on the cross and subsequent resurrection. He asked people to accept the Good News and experience the new life for themselves.

It was a difficult sell in a cosmopolitan city that celebrated Greek philosophy and a culture of “wisdom.” Though not a scholarly city, philosophers were plentiful—each with their own conclusions regarding the world’s problems. And into this enlightened society, Paul brought the word of the cross (1 Corinthians 1:18)—so much mwa, mwa, mwa. To people who celebrated the power and wisdom of gods such as Kratos and Athena, the God of Israel was insignificant. How could an Almighty God allow His Savior to die the death of the lower class? The Roman cross was reserved for criminals and slaves—not the Son of God. That was simply foolishness.

Some, however, heard Paul’s message and believed. It made no logical nor reasonable sense, yet they saw this weakest, most foolish moment as the moment God sacrificed for them. And this, of course, revealed God’s strength and wisdom. In allowing Himself to be seen as weak and foolish, He attracted intelligent but needy Corinthians.

God’s message of salvation through the cross remains so much mwa, mwa, mwa today. With our superior systems of knowledge and access to information, we do not accept what we cannot explain. And we cannot explain a God who allows war and hunger and the sexual exploitation of children. We cannot explain a God who allows suffering through cancer and AIDS. To call Him a loving God is simply foolishness…according to the world’s wisdom.

Yet, there are some who do believe. They believe God loved this world so much that He allowed His Son to die to save it. He allowed Himself to be weak, and Jesus offered no resistance when arrested. He permitted Himself to be foolish, and Jesus submitted to torture and death. It’s an outlandish story…but many believe it.

God is well pleased through the foolishness of the message to save those who believe (1 Corinthians 1:21). It really doesn’t matter whether we think God is foolish or weak. The truth is He saves those who believe. The evidence of His wisdom and power is displayed by their lives—renewed, restored, and changed lives. It pleases God when we break through the mwa, mwa, mwa and believe.

IF I HAD A PULPIT: For Example

2009-02-15T17:02:00.001-05:00

Adults make difficult students. They come to the classroom with busy schedules, conflicting obligations, and a great wealth of experience—sometimes of the subject being taught. Instructors have much working against them. Desire to learn isn’t always the motivation with adult students, so the last thing teachers need is a method that sabotages the learning process. Five strategies to avoid include:

1) Have minimal personal contact
2) Establish and maintain a passive mood in the classroom
3) Assume the class will apply what is taught. Don’t bother with examples.
4) Criticize
5) Make the students feel stupid for asking questions in class.

The many titles of Jesus include “Master,” “Rabbi,” and “Teacher.” Jesus came to teach about God’s Kingdom and to prepare the people for its coming. His primary audience was the working class of Israel—people hardened by life under foreign occupation and jaded by the religious leaders’ rhetoric. Ruling Pharisees had corrupted God’s Law by adding rules that they themselves could not keep. When Jesus came to the Israelites with the Good News of God’s Kingdom, the people were no doubt cynical.

Cynicism was counter to His message of hope, so Jesus got personal with them. He was face-to-face with His students, touching them, eating with them, crying over them. He encouraged questions and did not ridicule nor criticize.

Stories from the pages of their daily lives peppered Jesus’ lessons. Often in teaching the concepts of the Kingdom, Jesus provided a living example. In the synagogue, He freed a man of a demon. As the exorcism demonstrated, evil would be thrown out of God’s Kingdom. The end of sickness and death was shown when Jesus healed Simon’s mother-in-law from a raging fever. Later Jesus gave an object lesson on the benefits of cleansing.

While preaching in the province of Galilee, a leper found Jesus. The man fell to his knees and begged, “If You are willing, You can make me clean.” Oh, the faith. The leper believed in the Jesus’ Kingdom work. He had faith enough to believe that Jesus was able to cure his devastating disease.

The physical ruin was readily apparent, but Jesus also saw the desperation of the man at His feet. Compassion overcame Him. “I am willing,” He said reaching to touch the leper. “Be cleansed.” The disease vanished. The leper left the gathering free and clean (Mark 1:40 – 42).

Jesus came to teach and preach and heal. But He came to cleanse the world of sin. The leper asked for a healing, but he was saying, “I’m filthy. I’m defiled. I’m tainted. Make me pure. Make me clean. Make me new.”

The confession of a sinner.

In many ways, leprosy symbolizes the ravages of sin. It gradually erodes the body—first the skin, then muscle, then bone—all while life remains. The leper bears the effects of the disease. Sinners bear the scars of their actions. Persons affected with leprosy are separated from community as sinners are separated from commune with God.

When the leper cried out, “You can make me clean,” he was saying, “You can restore me to what I once was.” Jesus healed this man as an example of the eternal healing He came to do. For all who come to Him and say, “If You’re willing,” Jesus says, “I am willing.” For those who say, “I’m a mess. I am hopeless. My life is dark” Jesus says, “I am willing.” He longs to hear the cry, “You can put me back together. You can give me hope. You can clean me and restore me to what I should be.”

The healing of the leper was a real-time lesson on forgiveness of sin. Jesus transformed him from an outcast to a man embraced by society. Jesus heals the sinner and transforms him/her from a wretch to a child embraced by God.

Few students, however, grasped the lesson. It would be repeated over and over, but until the Resurrection, it remained unlearned.

Today, we have the benefit of knowing the whole story. We know Jesus’ mission and purpose for healing. We know what He did to fulfill that mission. Still, we may not understand what He has demonstrated before our eyes. All around we can see the evidence of His healing—broken people who now treasure their circumstances. Hopeless people now inspiring others to dream. Addicts in recovery, shattered marriages restored, convicts mentoring troubled youth. Have you learned the lesson? Have you trusted in the cleansing that comes when sin is forgiven?

PIONEER COLUMN (February 2009): Hide 'n Seek

2009-02-13T17:59:00.003-05:00

The game has changed dramatically since I was a kid. It used to be you’d gather with a bunch of friends, appoint one of them to be IT, then scatter and hole up while he/she counted to 100. IT then set out to uncover the rest of us. We hid in trees, behind garages, under piles of leaves. If your hiding spot was discovered you ran to the safety of home, striving to reach it before IT tagged you and knocked you out of the game.

Well, 21st century technology has overhauled the simplicity of Hide ‘n Seek. The object now is to locate hidden treasures rather than hidden friends. High-tech equipment—a hand-held GPS device—is required to find the treasures as opposed to trusting basic instinct and give-away giggles. Even the game’s name has changed. This updated version goes by the ostentatious title geocaching: geo from geography and caching for the act of hiding something in a secret spot.

The plus side of this modern version is that the treasures will likely be found. Latitude and longitude coordinates are provided and entered into the GPS unit before the hunt begins. The hunter (AKA IT) simply follows the device’s arrow till the hidden treasures are uncovered. Diligent searching leads to discovery.

The way to acquire treasures—whatever they might be—is to seek them. And whether through use of the most advanced satellite science or the ancient practice of prayer, those who search for treasures find them.

The exiled Israelites learned that despite their sufferings, God could be found in Babylon. You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart. I will be found by you…(Jeremiah 29:13 – 14). Hundreds of years later the people anxiously looked for God’s Servant, the Messiah, to release them from captivity of foreign rule and an oppressive religious system.

The day Jesus launched His traveling ministry He left the crowds and admirers behind. He rose before sunrise and hiked to an isolated spot. There He spent the pre-dawn hours in prayer. The disciples woke and found Jesus missing. They mounted a search and, like skilled hunters, tracked Him down. It probably was a frantic hunt. A crush of sick and invalid and demon-possessed awaited Jesus’ return. Everyone is looking for You (Mark 1:37), the disciples informed Him.

Everyone is looking for you. How profound. Without realizing it, the disciples stated the urgency of Jesus’ mission. Their intent was to return Jesus to the waiting crowds for another day of healing and miracles. But Jesus had been in prayer for His ministry. He and the twelve were about to hit the road to share the Gospel because everyone was looking for Him. It was time for Him to be found.

The urgency remains today. All around us, people seek God. They ask, How could a loving God allow… or Where was God when… or even Why is God punishing me? They want answers. And God promises that when they search with all their heart, they will find Him. He’s not hiding. Jesus goes to meet the seekers where they are—hospitals, prisons, soup kitchens and shelters.

How can you help seekers around you? Be a disciple. Jesus is found in His followers as they feed the hungry, visit the imprisoned, shelter the homeless, stand against injustice, stand for the rights of the persecuted and disadvantaged, when they care for the least of society. Jesus makes Himself known when His disciples promote the Kingdom of God with their words and actions.

IF I HAD A PULPIT: There Must Be Some Misunderstanding

2009-02-01T18:35:00.002-05:00

Big Jim is not a church-going man. We see his wife each Sunday and at church events, but generally Big Jim stays home. So when he walked in to last week’s service we knew something was up.

When Pastor called for prayer concerns Big Jim raised his hand. “Pastor,” he said, “I’d like the church to pray for my hearing.”

The grin on Pastor’s face told us that he would not let this moment pass. “Yes, of course we will, Jim. In fact, everyone gather around Big Jim and lay hands.”

Well, the pews emptied as we moved around the man, reaching out to touch his shoulders, back, and head. Pastor placed his hands on Big Jim’s ears, then bowed and prayed—a long prayer, peppered with choruses of “Yes, Lord” from the congregation. Heads lifted at the “Amen” and a few women wiped their eyes. Pastor looked at the big man with confidence and said, “Well, Jim, how’s your hearing now?”

“I don’t know, Pastor,” he replied. “I don’t go before the judge till next Thursday.”

That one’s been around a while. Yet its message remains forever relevant. Despite our best intentions—as the good pastor’s prayer exemplifies—misunderstandings happen when we assume to know what a person is saying. Communication is lost when one perceives a message differently than it was intended.

Jesus had an important message for the people of Israel: the Kingdom of God was coming (Mark 1:15). The time of God’s ultimate reign was closing in. The burden of oppression would be lifted, and evil would be abolished. Jesus’ message was an appeal to turn away from sin and believe.

It was more than an evangelizing sermon. Through captivating stories, miracles, and healings, Jesus taught about the wonderful things of the Kingdom. The Kingdom of God defies this earthly domain, as Jesus demonstrated when He commanded a demon to leave its human victim—and it obeyed (Mark 1:26).

This was a new teaching. It wasn’t the scholarly debate they were accustomed to. It was straightforward truth: God’s Kingdom was near. Believe and accept it.

How did the people respond to the new teaching? They went out and shared the news—news about the incredible healing they witnessed. Soon, villagers knocked down the doors wherever Jesus stayed for their own piece of the miracle action.

The people got the message. But they misinterpreted it.

Mark 1:28 says, Immediately the news about Him spread everywhere…(NASU). Some versions say His fame spread across the country. Jesus came to preach the good news, but the news that spread was about the miraculous exorcism. It was what Jesus could do that got the people talking.

And isn’t that just how we are. We hear a message, but condense it to headlines and highlights. The Kingdom of God is coming was reduced to There’s a guy who calls evil spirits out of people. The casting out of demons exemplified casting evil out of God’s Kingdom. But the meat of the message was missing from the stories that were spread. The purpose of Jesus’ mission was misinterpreted.

Undoubtedly your messages have resulted in unexpected outcomes. It’s a risk with all communication. Have you thought about how to avoid misunderstandings?

What about avoiding miscommunication of the Gospel of Christ? If you’ve let Jesus into your life, you have a message. In fact, all Christians have been entrusted with a message to share…the message of reconciliation (2 Corinthians 5:19). God’s Kingdom comes when the lost return to Him. You can have a part in bringing the Kingdom to a hurting world. Have you thought about what to say? How to say it? How does your life exemplify the hope of the Kingdom? A message as important as the coming of God’s Kingdom needs clear understanding…how are you assured that listeners perceive the your total message?

IF I HAD A PULPIT: Coming Down from the Mountain

2009-01-24T09:32:00.005-05:00

On a summer morning in 1974, a young Frenchman stepped out seemingly into thin air. Perched nearly a quarter mile above the earth, Philippe Petit positioned himself at the edge of the South Tower. He put one foot out and began a spellbinding journey across the 130-foot span between the Twin Towers…yes, the fated towers of the World Trade Center. For 45 minutes the daring acrobat walked a ¾-inch wide bridge of cable. He paused to perform a quick dance step and pirouette. He lay down and conversed with seagulls. By 8:00 that Wednesday morning rain forced him into the waiting arms of Port Authority Police. He had crossed the span not once, but eight times.

Have you had a “mountaintop” experience? I’m not talking about a literal climb up or across the heights. But have you ever experienced such an exhilarating event that you actually felt a change in altitude? You felt certain you were floating among the clouds? People use the term to describe the births of their children. Or playing in the championship game. Or graduation from college, making the big sale, overcoming a fear. These are the great highs in life…the heights you never want to come down from. But you do. Sooner or later, gravity pulls you back to earth.

That’s exactly what happened to Philippe Petit. Shortly after the infamous World Trade Center crossing he suffered his first fall—from a height of 45 feet. In traversing the New York skyline at 1350 feet, he had accomplished the inconceivable. It was the routine—a conventional height—that tripped him up.

This is the truth of all mountaintop experiences—especially our spiritual highs.

Jesus walked along the shores of the Sea of Galilee and came upon two muscular men in a boat. He watched as they grasped a circular net and threw it into the waters. They returned the net to the boat to empty the catch and Jesus called to them. “Come with me and you will no longer cast for fish. You will fill your nets with men.” The pair left their boat and net behind and joined Jesus.

Further down the shore He found another pair mending their nets. “Come with me,” He shouted. And these two left not only their boat and nets, but also their father and his hired fishermen (Mark 1:14 – 20 paraphrase).

These four men gave up careers and property, and in the case of James and John, a modicum of prosperity. For three years they traveled with Jesus. They were a part of many mountaintop highs, including healings and miracles. They witnessed Jesus transform from physical to spiritual being.

But then there were the lows…the times when travels were boring and food was plain. James and John—the brothers Jesus nicknamed “Sons of Thunder”—shook things up by reminding Christ of the Kingdom He was to establish. They asked for the privileged seats of power in Jesus’ administration. They suggested that Jesus fill them with power to call down fire from heaven.

And when the heat was on, all four abandoned Jesus. They were on the team, riding a spiritual high, when Jesus called them as His disciples. They each had moments of virtue and intense devotion. But when Jesus was arrested, they asked themselves Is this all there is? They left and returned to fish the sea.

Perhaps you’re wondering what became of your mountaintop experience. You wonder when the excitement and passion left your call to follow Jesus. You question why Scripture seems dry, why you can’t seem to pray anything but “Thanks, God.” When did you start simply going through the motions of worship and service?

Philippe Petit experienced his one and only high wire fall during a practice session. He knew what he was doing…as he had done so many times before. It was routine. Complacency. He temporarily lost focus and left the wire.

Dry spiritual lows offer two options: 1) the uphill climb out of the valley, or 2) the crashing fall. If you’re feeling lifeless in your spiritual journey, stay with the routine. Don’t abandon or lose focus. Call out. Cry out. But keep walking—one foot in front of the other. And maybe add a spin or pirouette.

IF I HAD A PULPIT: Service Calls

2009-01-18T07:16:00.002-05:00

Though we were raised hundreds of miles apart, my husband and I share a similar summer memory. In fact, I think it’s a common recollection for most who grew up in the 60s. By day, we freely roamed the streets and playgrounds of our neighborhoods—pretty much unsupervised. Early each morning we hopped on our bikes and left home to explore and battle and conquer that world around us. Our days ended when by some mystically choreographed signal, the air filled with varied singsong bellowing. All around the neighborhood, ballgames came to an abrupt end, dolls were haphazardly packed into wardrobe cases, and secret treasures were quickly hidden away. Kids picked up discarded bikes and raced home. Mom had called.

We all knew what it meant when the afternoon waned and Mom stepped out on the front porch. When we heard the distinctive blare of our own name (or, in the case of the Powell kids, the piercing whistle), we knew there was no time to spare. Everything had to be abandoned at the sound of Mother’s call.

This Tuesday when our new President takes office, he will undoubtedly address America with a call of his own. Be ready to take action when Barack Obama calls this country to step up to community service. Mr. Obama campaigned on a platform of “citizen engagement” intended to lead the nation into expanded voluntary service. His plan calls for increased civic service opportunities for working Americans, retirees, and disadvantaged young persons. It outlines proposals to broaden AmeriCorps and the Peace Corps, integrate service-learning into public education, and help non-profit agencies introduce and grow successful service programs.

Americans will respond to this call. People believe in Barack Obama and the promise of change he brings to government. It is also well acknowledged that Mr. Obama comes to the presidency with a background rich in public service. His campaign calls it the “cause of his life.” As a student, Obama was active in poverty and health care issues in the US, and movements opposing South African apartheid. He served in community development and voter registration projects in Chicago. When President Obama makes the request for all Americans to step into voluntary service for the good of their communities, people will answer with resounding “yes.”

The more important thing, however, is not that the call is answered. It is whom we answer to. When my mother stood on the porch of our home on Berry Street and called my name, I responded. I reported to her. I didn’t peddle my legs off and then check in with the next-door neighbor. I went to my mom. And if by some chance I did not show when called, she returned to the porch. She called until I answered.

A young apprentice was serving in his master’s work place late at night. The boy fell asleep, but awoke at the sound of his name. Immediately, he went to the master to see what was needed. But the master had not called. He encouraged the lad to return to his own quarters.

Soon the child’s sleep was again interrupted. He returned to the master and was again dismissed. The boy heard his name a third time and went to see what was required. Finally the master discerned it was a greater call.

Three times the Lord called to Samuel (I Samuel 3:1 – 10). In obedience, the boy responded each time, but he did not answer the one who had summoned. Samuel could not fulfill the call on his life until he answered the One calling to him.

When our new president puts out the call for service, thousands—hopefully millions—will respond. In the excitement of this new era and hope for change, many will step forward and volunteer in their communities. We will answer in obedience because of the one who gave the call, but we won’t answer to him. Barak Obama will not hold us accountable. Likely, he will not stand before us and wait for a response.

But God does. This call to increased community service is not the brainchild of the American Democratic party—it’s the work of the church. Jesus asked His followers to care for the “least of these,” to visit the prisoners, feed the hungry and clothe the naked, to welcome strangers. The need for that work continues today. God is calling His people to mentor, build homes, to make beds and prepare meals at shelters. He’s asking for our vocational skills to teach, heal and nurse, fundraise, entertain. He needs our financial resources. God has placed the call; He is the one we answer to. He holds us accountable. He will call repeatedly if we don’t answer. And God is blessed when the response the same as young Samuel's, “Your servant is listening.”

IF I HAD A PULPIT: Separating Truths

2009-01-13T16:27:00.002-05:00

Separate/Separation…

…to divide, as with an egg (splitting the yolk from the white) or laundry (keeping the light-colored clothes from the darks).

…a social system designed to keep groups apart; i.e., segregation justified by equality of services and facilities.

…a political and legal wall between two institutions ensuring the independent administration of each, as with church and state.

…(plural) as in components of a woman’s wardrobe…spring and summer tops and shorts, winter blazers and slacks.

…in some marriages, a time of living apart often preceded by separate accounts, separate vacations, filing separately, and separate beds.

The idea of separation may conjure fearful and heart-tugging images. It may simply have a more practical application. Perhaps it reminds us of injustice. We live in an inclusive society that encourages—no, demands—that no one be set apart to be labeled different. Separation divides and sets distinction. It just seems wrong.

But there is nothing wrong with separation as established by God. On the very first day of creation God’s Spirit hovered over the earth, moving back and forth across dark waters. God looked into the darkness and summoned forth light. Imagine that. Out of darkness, He created light. It was good—very good—so God separated light from darkness. He gave the earth time of prolonged darkness followed by time of prolonged light and named them accordingly: night and day (Genesis 1:1 – 5).

Creating light and separating it from the darkness gave the formless earth its first structure. Day filled the earth with the light necessary for the growth of plants and animals. It illumined the workspace given to man as he named and cared for the creatures. When night fell, man’s work was done. He and the rest of the earth relaxed and refreshed in the darkness. But only because the light and the dark were separated.

Separation is part of God’s order for the perfect functioning of His creation. He intricately designed and crafted this world to operate to His specifications, with boundaries around each created thing. These boundaries provide limits so all things function efficiently and completely, according to their purpose.

God separates to keep people or things distinct, pure, and dedicated to Him. He set the Israelites apart from the other nations to be His people. He asks His people today to separate from the world around them. The common catch-phrase is “we are in the world, not of the world.” We live here, work here, play here. But we do not belong to the world. We are God’s children. Our home is with our Father. While we live here, however, we are to distinguish ourselves from the evil and corruption that has tainted this world.

Though light is separated from dark and dark from light, there are times when the two mingle. Night overtakes day at sunset, and day breaks through night at sunrise. Day and night are divided by shadowy times of indiscernible spectrum.

And this is true for God’s people as well. Though we are to distinguish ourselves, it is in our lifestyles—loving one another, forgiving trespasses, expectant in hope for promised return of our Savior—that we separate from the world. We are not to withdraw and hibernate with our “own kind.” We are to live as lights in the darkness, drawing out the lost and guiding the wounded. We may look the same as everyone around us, but it is a bearing, a demeanor, that sets us apart.

How difficult is it to be thankful for separations? Isolating yourself from friends, family, or co-workers may sound depressing. A willingness to be the different, odd one can be daunting. Regardless, can you give God thanks for creating the separations around you? Can you thank Him for setting you apart to belong to Him and not the world? Can you celebrate your distinction as a child of God?

PIONEER COLUMN (Jan 2009): You Are My Sunshine

2009-01-10T07:35:00.001-05:00

Two vertical beams of light scan the night skies. As one journeys east the other moves west. On their return trip, they retrace the paths and eventually cross one another. This is the point of origin. This cross of lights marks where the beams begin.

Searchlights have been used for nearly a century to attract the public to grand events. As the logo of a well-known movie production company illustrates, searchlights are key to glamorous Hollywood movie premieres. They can also be found illuminating lesser events such as supermarket openings and used car sales. Lights arouse the curious. People flock to see—to be a part of—the extravaganza.

Advertising, however, was not the original function for searchlights. They were developed for warfare. The practice of night air raids had become an effective military tactic of World War I. Intended to catch troops and civilians by surprise, these bombings rendered victims defenseless and vulnerable.

Elmer A Sperry, electrical genius and entrepreneur, invented a portable anti-aircraft weapon, the Open-Type searchlight, to illuminate the night skies. Enemy aircraft caught in the arc of a rotating beam were exposed—made targets so that ground forces could bring them down. The high-intensity lights also blinded the pilots and gunners and made the bombing objectives made virtually invisible.

We, as Christians, are called to be “searchlights” in the world. With wide-arcing beams we’re called to signal the attention of others. We are to draw people to the great spectacle, the grand event that is the life and teaching of Jesus Christ.

Jesus described Himself as the Light of the World (John 8:12); He transferred that title to His followers (Matthew 5:14). Jesus expected His disciples to share, through teaching and life example, all He had instructed them. Followers who live an abundant life of joy—through prosperity as well as tragedy—draw attention. Disciples who serve mankind garner greater admiration than those who serve and promote self. Believers who preach good news signal hope to the weary and lost.

Yet how often is the light used to bring others down? We see people living in darkness, without direction, drifting aimlessly off course. Convinced our beacons will illuminate their path, we shine the light of truth. But it’s an intense light, exposing rather than guiding. Weaknesses are divulged and then targeted. The harsh glare of our light blinds. The lost turn away. The very people Jesus wants drawn to Him are repelled.

The prophet Isaiah told the nation of Judah that they too were lights in a dark world. They were exiles returned to the Promised Land, anxious for the restoration of their country and the leadership of the long-promised Messiah. Instead, they found frustration and misguidance at every turn. Reestablished in their homeland, they felt defeated.

“Wake up, people,” Isaiah encouraged. “The Lord has saved you! Share what you know about His goodness and faithfulness with the dark world. He has burst over you like beams of sunshine. You carry His warmth and brightness; you can break through the darkness covering this world. You are His sunshine. People who live in gloom throughout the world will be drawn to your re-invigorating light” (Isaiah 60:1 – 4 paraphrase).

Isaiah’s ancient words bear the same impact for God’s people today. You are God’s sunshine in this dark world. You know His salvation, His goodness, His faithfulness. You carry His light to break through the doom and gloom that remains in this world. How does your searchlight shine? Are you a blinding glare that diverts attention? Do you home in on the weaknesses of those around you? Or are you searching for the lost, beckoning with a soft, warm light? Will those who need Jesus be drawn to Him because of the light you cast?

IF I HAD A PULPIT: Get It Off Your Chest

2008-12-26T08:15:00.003-05:00

We have a sweet display of crèches in the chancel of the Third Avenue church. Pastor Mike invited people to share their family nativity sets with the parish this Christmas season. Baby Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the shepherds and Wise Men are represented in various media: from porcelain to plaster-of-Paris, hand-carved wood to hand-cut paper. Most donors have left cards with a story belonging to the crèche. Some are treasured heirlooms, some gifts marking a special occasion. One was made by a group of 7- and 8-year-old boys just for this display. On Christmas Eve, we expect people to wander to the cancel to admire these beautiful depictions of the birth of our Savior Jesus.

As I admire the statues and stables, I notice among the young Marys a common feature. The maiden kneels before the manger with hands clasped to her heart…as if she’s trying to contain the matters of her son’s arrival, protecting all the memories surrounding the pregnancy and birth, keeping back the wonder of the miracle she’s experienced. She looks upon her child with gentle love, but she restrains the awe surrounding this monumental night.

Twice Luke’s Gospel tells us Mary “treasured all these things” (verses 2:19, 51). She set them as valuables in a storehouse, a place of safe-keeping. Verse 19 also tells us that she spent time “pondering them.” Mary reviewed the extraordinary events as most mothers do, questioning the future of her precious child. The word ponder comes from two words that mean union with or together and to throw [down]. In pondering the early events of Jesus’ life, Mary threw around the possibilities together with…? Whom?

With all that Mary had been through—an angel visitation, supernatural impregnation, broken engagement, unconsummated marriage, a 90-mile journey by donkey in her ninth month of pregnancy, and delivering her child in a barn—you’d think she would be prime for an appearance on Dr Phil. Common sense would indicate that Mary should not endure this ordeal in silence. Who could deny her the opportunity to vent, to rant, maybe even cash in on the story? She should have every opportunity to get it off her chest.

But that’s the very place Mary revered her circumstances. Luke says Mary held these extraordinary events in the safest place she knew—her heart. A private spot where she would review each moment and give each situation its rightful importance. Mary pondered these things in her heart, the place where God would join her in conversation.

Mary held all her circumstances in awe. She marveled at what was pronounced about her infant son. It amazed her that God would find her worthy of this sacred experience. Which, of course, explains why she found favor with God. Mary’s humility—the amazement that God would select a young, uneducated peasant girl to bear His Son—marked her as virtuous.

Humility distinguished Mary from other girls and women. It set her apart from many men and leaders of Jewish society. It was not a self-loathing or passive doormat state. Rather, it was the clear conviction that God was the source of any honor coming into her life. Mary knew that we earn no acclaim on our own. She understood that humility is recognition that without God, nothing we accomplish amounts to any good.

In a song of praise, Mary acknowledged God as her source: "For the Mighty One has done great things for me” (Luke 1:49). It was as if she were saying,

“He noticed me! I’m just a girl, but God my Savior has noticed me! I have nothing to offer Him, nothing that proves I am a person of worth. All I have is the quiet of my heart.”

In the quiet of her heart, God noticed Mary. He knew she “lacked” the world’s qualifications for worth: wealth, possessions, physical strength, leadership, education. But God was looking for something unique. He was looking for a heart that recognized its need for Him.

The proud heart has no room for God—it seeks its own glory. Its need is to be known, to tell its own story, to “get it off its chest.” Imagination springs from the proud heart and the story is embellished for the honor and adoration of the world.
How could such a heart be used in the mighty task of mothering God’s Only Son?

The humble heart welcomes God. In the quiet of acknowledging a need for Him, the humble heart joins with God in pondering all He has done. We call this worship—responding to God with quiet and stillness, joining with Him to converse, to ponder.
God noticed the young peasant girl’s modest heart. She responded to God’s call on her life with a willing trust. Despite the seeming impossibility of what He proposed, despite the cost it would surely mean to her future, Mary’s humbled heart was at peace. God confuses the ways of those who are “proud in the thoughts of their heart” (Luke 1:51), but the lowly heart has peace.

Mary had a story to share. An incredible story. But she kept it as a cherished treasure—safe from fame and boasting. Safe from the danger of embellishment. She kept it on her chest—within her heart. She shared it with God…and let Him share it with others.

IF I HAD A PULPIT: Don't Blame Me

2008-12-16T19:15:00.002-05:00

President Ronald Reagan enjoyed enormous popularity during his two terms in office. Though an arms-for-hostage scheme marred his last years, he left the White House in 1989 with the highest approval ratings of any US president since Franklin Roosevelt.

A young Democratic congresswoman noted a similarity between the president and the pan holding her children’s breakfast eggs. Patricia Schroeder, representative from Colorado, remarked, “After carefully watching Ronald Reagan, I can see he’s attempting a great breakthrough in political technology. He has been perfecting the Teflon-coated presidency. He sees to it that nothing sticks to him. He is responsible for nothing.”

The one thing that did stick to President Reagan was Schroeder’s metaphor. He became known as the first Teflon president.

What an enviable place to be, wouldn’t you say? The leader of the free world, the mouthpiece of democracy and responsible for protecting the liberties of millions…and blame could not attach itself to Ronald Reagan.

Now, it’s likely that you aren’t and won’t ever be in a place of such power, but even in your own circumstances, wouldn’t it be wonderful to be freed from blame? Can you even imagine facing charges and having them slide off you? Would it be possible to stand up to complaints and accusations without a string of explanations to back you up?

Of course you know that if you have accepted Jesus Christ as Savoir you are without fault. Every atrocity you’ve ever committed has been wiped away. You’re kind of a Teflon-Christian. The accusations may fly, but nothing will stick to you.

Nothing sticks, but is the life you’re living pleasing to God? You’re free from blame and accusation, but are you honoring God with the things you do? As a Christian, what do your actions say about the God who saved your life?

Though you are without blame, the day will come when you face Jesus to give an account of your life as a Believer. Much of our Christian theology is grounded in the belief that Jesus will return one day. He promised it; we therefore believe it. Jesus said, “Be ready.” He told us to be looking for it. Though we won’t know beforehand, we will see signs of His approach.

When He arrives He will appear in bodily form so that we can see Him and touch Him. And unlike His first time on earth, Jesus will return to judge the world. Believers and non-believers will stand before Him. What will stick to you when He asks, “What did you do with what I gave you?” Will you continue to stand as a Teflon-Believer?

It’s hard to comprehend, but God desires that we would stand before Him blameless, without fault—even on the day when Jesus rules with judgment. Paul said, For this is the will of God, your sanctification (1 Thessalonians 4:3). Sanctification--that’s one of those difficult church-words. It means holy, set apart, different from the world around you. God’s will is that we become a holy people, set apart from the world’s desires, and dedicated to His purposes.

Paul offered the Thessalonians sensible suggestions on how to fulfill God’s will:

Live in peace with one another. We urge you, brethren, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that no one repays another with evil for evil, but always seek after that which is good for one another and for all people. Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus (1 Thessalonians 5:13 – 18)

God’s will for you in Christ Jesus is that you would be made holy. That increasingly you would become like Jesus. That more and more, in what you say and what you do, you would reflect Jesus to the world.

God’s calls all His children to seek holiness for that Last Day—that day of judgment. His will is that you are able to stand holy and blameless and beyond reproach (Colossians 1:22), without spot or wrinkle (Ephesians 5:27). When the time comes to face Christ’s judgment, nothing will stick to the true Teflon-Christian.

PIONEER COLUMN (December 2008): A World of Despair

2008-12-14T06:54:00.002-05:00

We live in discouraging times. With deep government debt, a plunging stock market, wars with no end, record-high mortgage failures and bankruptcies…we have to wonder, where is the hope? We see evil go unpunished. Suffering surrounds us. We fall into despair. Things will never change. They will always be this way.

Peter struggled to bring believers through just such despair. He spoke to them about the certainty of suffering—of being criticized, attacked, even hated—for sharing the Gospel. His greater concern, however, was damage that could come from within the ranks. Peter cautioned against complacency and encouraged followers to live out what they believed. He charged them to hold fast to the truth. He warned of leaders among them who would distort and subvert the Gospel message.

In his second letter, Peter assured the church that they would have false teachers among them. Preachers would ridicule those looking for the second coming of Christ. They will say, “Where is this ‘coming’ he promised?...everything goes on as it has since the beginning of creation” (2 Peter 3:4).

The people faced physical persecution from the Jews and emotional abuse from their own teachers. How bleak the world must have seemed. Where is the hope? How easy to slip into a sense that God had forgotten them. Things will never change. They will always be this way.

One of the great carols of the Christmas season comes from a time of deep despair. Tragedy had fallen on Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. He lost his beloved wife in a freak and fiery accident in 1861. Then two years later, his eldest son was severely wounded while serving in the Union Army. On Christmas Day, 1864, with the Civil War raging, Longfellow penned a holiday poem of seven verses. We’re familiar with five of the stanzas that begin:

I heard the bells on Christmas Day, their old familiar carols play
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

This last line, repeated in all seven verses, seems to mock the truth played out in America that day. Longfellow’s despondency is transparent in two lesser-known stanzas:

Then from each black accursed mouth, the cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound the carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men.

It was as if an earthquake rent the hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn the households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men.

And then with the sixth verse, the poet acknowledges his despair. He cries out with words that seem to say, “Where is the hope? Things will never change. They will always be this way." In the misery of grief and the futility of war, had God forgotten Henry Wadsworth Longfellow?

No. Longfellow confidently concludes:

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: “God is not dead; nor doth He sleep!”
The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!

Peter similarly encouraged those he addressed. Though mockers scoffed and accused God of breaking a promise, Peter reminded the people that God was neither dead nor asleep. He was at work. He had not withdrawn His promise, nor was He delaying it. He was still working through it. Peter says: The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9).

God was and is using this period of time before Jesus returns to draw people to Him. With the promise of Christ’s second coming, God extends an incentive to join His fellowship. It is His greatest desire that no one would be left out, that no one would be lost on that last day. The message of Christmas is a message of hope: God first sent His Son to save the world. Despite the dire messages of the world (where is the hope? Things will never change), we take hope in the continual work of God. We find hope in believing His Son will return. As Longfellow said, The Right will prevail.

PIONEER COLUMN: Living in Terror

2008-11-15T10:43:00.000-05:00

Long before al-Qu’ida, the PLO, or the IRA, a single man terrorized a small town on the eastern Galilean shore. Naked, this man roamed freely among the tombs and burial plots of the local cemetery. His screams chilled the day and his howls sliced through the night. A man of Herculean strength, the townspeople were unable to restrict him. Chains placed on his wrists were snapped like kindling. Shackles were smashed like fruit in a press. Fear and intimidation oppressed the people. They were in need of rescue.

Jesus hit the shore of this Galilean town focused on His usual routine of preaching, teaching and healing. As He climbed from His boat, the wild man emerged from the cemetery. He recognized Jesus and ran to meet Him.

Jesus knew the man was not of a right mind, that evil held him captive. Jesus immediately commanded the evil spirit to leave the man. But it was a hardened spirit. Bowing low before Jesus, it caused the man to shriek, “Why are you interfering with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? In the name of God, I beg you, don’t torture me!” (Mark 5: 7).

Jesus provoked terror in the terrorist.

And with good reason. The spirit was in fact many spirits—at least two thousand. Yet despite their number, they feared the one man before them. Calling Him by name and title, they recognized His power and authority. Only Jesus, Son of God, could end their occupation of this pitiful man.

Jesus did call the spirits out and allowed them to enter a herd of pigs. Two thousand pigs, mad with possession, raced down a steep embankment and into the lake where they drowned. Their confused caretakers fled to town.

As word of the mass swine suicide spread, the townspeople rushed to the shore. There they witnessed their tormentor sitting at Jesus’ feet, fully clothed and rational. And this terrified them more than his screams and howls once had. He was now like one of them. It was more than they could accept. They begged Jesus to move on and leave their town alone.

How can that be? Jesus had removed their greatest fear, and the people of the Geresenes were afraid, not grateful. The mad man faced them, restored and fully functional. And that was more terrifying than a naked man in the cemetery.

Isn’t that our way too? There’s a problem, a danger, a wound that we long to have fixed. Jesus, the healer and restorer, comes to make the situation right again. But sometimes what we want from Him is a bandage, not a cure. A band-aid will cover and protect the injury, but a cure involves time and treatment…sometimes treatment that means additional pain.

We all have fears and anxieties that hold us captive from time to time. Perhaps it’s the terror of a secret from the past that threatens to reveal itself. Maybe it’s the possibility of failure that immobilizes when it’s time for action. Or it could be that you spend valuable time and energy trying to keep up a pretense because of the paralyzing fear of being exposed as the phony you really are.

Isaiah 61:1 – 2 says Jesus comes to “bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to captives And freedom to prisoners…To comfort all who mourn." His job is to heal and release us from the terrors that hold us hostage. And because He knows all about our life—all the pain and mistakes—He is able to walk us through the healing process. But it is a rebuilding process. It may require working through painful memories or facing difficult truths about yourself or people in your life. It will ultimately require forgiveness. And letting go.

This is where Jesus is often told to move on. Have you been to this point? Jesus can remove your greatest terror, but are you willing to let it go? Letting go of past hurts and secrets, fears, and phony masks may seem to be too much. You may prefer to let go of Jesus. But don’t. Let Him push you on.

An Evangelical's Reaction to the 2008 Presidential Election

2008-11-12T16:10:00.000-05:00

How appropriate was my daily Scripture reading for November 5—the morning after our nation elected its first African American President.

My passage for that morning came from John chapters 8 and 9. Jesus is addressing the Pharisees—even those who say they believe in Him, those who give lip service to His ministry but continue on in their established religion. Jesus’ ministry was revolutionary. It required deep personal change. It called for an inward change from hearts of stone to hearts of flesh (Ezekiel 11:19)—hearts devoted to the living God; hearts of mercy and compassion and forgiveness; hearts that would change the world and see God’s Kingdom on earth as it is in Heaven.

But the Pharisees had no room for Jesus. Their hearts were full of their own gospel—arrogant, pompous, self-righteous, worldly power through religion. And because their hearts had no room, they could not hear Jesus’ word. Without hearing, their minds could not accept and understand (John 8:43). With hardened hearts (hearts of stone), they could not see the sin in their own lives. Though their eyes were open and taking it all in, they were blind (9:39). They could not see, so they could not witness this man as the Son of God. They did not know Him. They did not know the Father (8:19).

We evangelical Christians can be much like Jesus’ Pharisees. Our hearts have been hardened by our love of our religion, our love of political power, and our determination that we have it right! Four years ago we were held up as George W’s strength. We were the reason he won the 2004 election.

Where was the evangelical Christian clout in 2008?

It seems it held little interest with this year’s two candidates. Why? Look at our leaders. One was removed from office after admitting sexual immorality and soliciting drugs. Six “prosperity gospel” televangelists were investigated by the Senate Finance Committee. Two weeks before the election, a pro-family action committee posted a “what-if” letter reflecting on the first Obama term of office. This 16-page document dated October 22, 2012 proposes a future America where the Boy Scouts have been abolished, student-led prayer is ruled as proselytizing and worship and is no longer allowed in public schools, and several Christian publishing houses are forced out of business because major booksellers, targeted by homosexual activists, discontinue sales of Christian books. The scare tactics from this family-first group are vicious and seem designed to provoke mistrust among people of faith.

Have our evangelical leaders no room in their hearts for Jesus? Where is the mercy, the compassion, the forgiveness? Jesus asked this question of the religious leaders of His day. We should ask the same in 2008.

Watch our Christian leaders in the coming months. Will they be praying for our new governmental leaders? Praying for their safety as well as their decisions? Will they tell us that God places our leaders over us…or is that true only when “our guy” wins the election? Will they remind us to turn to God to ask how He wants us to respond to this election?

And how do we respond? That is for God to guide and lead us. But it does seem that we better open our ears and our eyes. There is a reason why minority and young adult turnout at the polls was higher than ever before. These groups could finally identify with a candidate. We need to remember that neither the Republican NOR Democratic Party has put a candidate before the people who has engaged them in the process as Obama did this year. We need to open our eyes and ears to the people who have felt disenfranchised. Why have they felt that way? We need to ask God to show us how to respond to their voice.

And we do need to pray for our new president. If the evangelical leaders won’t ask you to do this, I will. God has allowed Barak Obama to win this election to fill His purpose. We need to be sensitive and responsive to that. Pray for President-Elect Obama: for his safety, for his wisdom, for his faith. Pray the same for his family and his advisors. Pray for peace among the elected officials of both parties as they work with the new president for the good of our country. And pray that you are able to respond as God desires.

PIONEER COLUMN "Playing the Waiting Game"

2008-10-11T17:50:00.001-04:00

A time management company sponsored a productivity survey a few years ago. The results suggested that over a lifetime we spend six months waiting at stoplights and a full two years waiting in line.

Oh, it’s at least that long. Think of all the lines you’re in on various days: supermarket checkout, bank, restaurant, movie theater, secretary of State, public restrooms, communion.

And other waits: for dinner to heat in the microwave, the price of that plasma TV to come down, a certain book to be published, the right mate to come along. We accept a wait at the doctor’s office. After all, they have dedicated a room to comfortably pass the time. Sometimes you put your name on a “wait list” to be informed when an item becomes available. I have a friend who’s currently a part of the ultimate wait—she’s expecting her first baby.

Waiting is a part of this life. It’s what we live with—some better than others. There’s an anticipation attached to waiting. And sometimes anxiety, too. We think we know what’s ahead of us…we’re anxious to get there…but we’re stalled and we want the journey to continue.

The Israelites faced such anticipation and anxiety during their journey to the Promised Land. They had been traveling along, enduring—not always graciously—bitter water, limited food supplies, battles with nomadic tribes, and an awesome display of thunder, lightening, and smoke from a mountain. They heard the voice of God speak simple words for abundant living.

And then their leader disappeared into the smoke of that mountain for a private chat with God. The journey came to a halt. For forty days and forty nights, the travelers waited around the mountain for the return of Moses. When he didn’t appear, they decided the delay had run its course. They devised a new travel plan, complete with a new leader and a new god. They crafted a calf from gold, offered sacrifices to it, and threw a festival in its honor.

Waiting is often a part of God’s work in our lives. Many waits are allowed because God wants to use the time to prepare us for something greater. Sometimes it’s a test. Not to prove ourselves to God. Rather, a test to prove ourselves to ourselves. Will we trust and persevere as we wait out God’s timing?

Paul told the Romans to be glad for the waiting: …we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint…(Romans 5:3 – 5). Perseverance builds character, and character that has been proven during times of patient waiting yields hope.

The impetuous character of the Israelite pilgrims proved out during their wait. Instead of persisting, they lost hope. They gave up on God. They moved ahead under the “protection” of a false god and a fickle new leader.

As Christians, we are also pilgrims moving toward a Promised Land—a Kingdom that will last forever. Jesus promised to return one day to claim it. We travel in a kind of holding pattern waiting for His return. We live each day trusting in the promise, enduring the trials and hardships of life, letting those experiences build strength, and clinging to the hope that assures we will live in peace, free of pain and suffering. But we have to wait it out. We cannot reach the Promised Land on our own. We cannot fashion our own god to lead us there. Jesus is preparing the place for us. He knows the way. We just have to be patient and wait for Him.

PIONEER COLUMN "What's in a Name" September 12, 2008

2008-09-13T11:17:00.000-04:00

In church last Sunday I played a game with our Sunday school kids. I passed out nametags and told the children to put them on. They were dismayed. A few even protested out loud.

I wasn’t upset. I had expected their refusals. You see, the children weren’t handed their own names. They were given a classmate’s. We were playing a “mixer” game, intended to get the kids to interact. The children had to find the rightful owner of the badge they held. They were more than willing to make the exchange.

The kids didn’t like the idea of wearing someone else’s name. They had their own names and those were the tags they wanted. It didn’t make sense to have others call them by a name that wasn’t their own. And they also figured out that they wouldn’t respond when someone called them by the wrong name.

Hearing your name spoken by another person suggests some level of intimacy between you. The person knows you well enough to call you by name. To hear it called by an acquaintance means they’ve remembered you. When your name is announced at the doctor’s office, you know the staff has prepared for your visit.

Your name may be enhanced by an endearment (my buddy, my best friend) that indicates a special rapport. Perhaps your beloved has given you a pet name that suggests a playfulness in your relationship. But when he or she calls you by your given name, there is a unique connection. Intermingled within the call there is an affection that could only come from one who knows you so well.

Names are important to God. He instructed Joseph to name his infant “Jesus” …for He will save His people from their sins (Matthew 1:21). The Son carried the name that meant Savior. And when Jesus had accomplished His mission God highly exalted Him, and bestowed on Him the name which is above every name (Philippians 2:9). God gave Him the name of highest honor. No title—President, Emperor, Czar, King—is greater than the name of the Son of God.

If we lowly humans derive so much pleasure from hearing our names…what must God feel when He hears His name or His Son’s name? Delight in our praises? Patience with our doubts? Compassion for repentance? Disappointment with our curses?

Psalm 9:10 says, Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you.

This verse speaks of the intimacy of relationship, of knowing the character and integrity of the one who is called. Knowing the Lord—especially as the name above every name—leads to trust. Being able to call out His name is confidence in His willingness to save, in His loyalty to always answer the cry. And there is the assurance that He responds.

Don’t you think it must delight God to hear His children call His name? To know that they are coming to Him trusting that He will answer? If the children were pests and bothers wouldn’t He ignore their cries and pleas? Instead He never rejects them. He hears His name and He responds.

Oh, and my name? I’m Anne Riegler. Also known as Pastor Mike’s wife, Miss Anne, and a variety of those beloved pet names. These are some of the names I respond to. You’ll be getting to know me better in the coming months. And once you do, I hope you’ll use my name.