The Buzzard's Message

Buzzards are not our favorite bird.  If they land in our yard, we are likely to do what we can to send them on their way.  There are two places we mostly see them.  One is on the highway feasting on road kill.  The second place we see them is soaring high above us in the rising thermals.  With wings expanded and hardly moving they go round and round getting higher and higher with each circle. If it was any other bird, we would declare it to be a thing of beauty.  They are, despite our wanting to distance ourselves from them, creatures created by our Heavenly Father.  They come from His creative hand as surely as do we.  

Being one of His created creatures means that even that old turkey buzzard can be used by God to proclaim something of His eternal truth.  Such happened a few days ago as I watched one high above the farm.  I watched it soaring and then with a single flap of the wing, it caught a wind I could not see and went in what appeared to be a straight line from as far as the eye could see to the south to as far as the eye could see to the north.  Without any movement of the wings, it raced across the dark sky like a runaway train.  Though I felt no breeze at all, I knew that old buzzard had taken hold of a powerful unseen wind.  

I could not feel the wind which carried it, but I knew it was there.  "The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.  So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit." (John 3:8). In my moment of watching, I did not hear the sound of the wind, but I could see evidence of its presence and power. As the Holy Spirit blows into our lives, there may or may not be a sound, but surely our lives bear witness to our being caught up in that holy life giving Spirit.  If there is no evidence of the Holy Spirit in us, then maybe it is time for a season of repentance so that we might once again know the power of a fresh touch of the Spirit in our lives.

The Ancient Ways

All of us lose our way at one time or another.  Actually, it happens more than one time, but more times than we really want to remember.  The God we declare to be good suddenly seems distant and disinterested.  What we experience instead of nearness is more like a deep chasm between ourselves and Him, and struggle as we might, we still feel the separation instead of the nearness.  We experience such moments as times for abandoning our faith, or declaring ourselves too far off the path of faith to ever return.   

There is a word hidden in the long chapters of Jeremiah which can guide us from where we are to where our heart longs to be.  It is found in the sixth chapter, the sixteenth verse.  It has become a favorite of mine in recent years and has served as a signpost when I have lost my way.  "Thus says the Lord: Stand at the crossroads, and look and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way lies, and walk in it, and find rest for your souls."  This verse does not call us to retreat and live in the past, or to make a shrine out of it, but to remember.  Memory is a powerful gift given to us by a gracious God.  The old ways are the proven ways.  It is by them that we have walked in faith.  It is good to remember them.

To look at the ways we have walked in the past is to know that there were times when we were led into a darkness that we could not understand, but those same ways always led us out into the light where God's love and presence was overwhelming.  The word from Jeremiah invites us to see that we sometimes stand at a crossroad where continuing as we are intersects with the way which the Spirit has used to nudge us forward.  The old way may seem empty and a way that seems to lead nowhere, but it is also the way which caused us to know God was walking with us.  When stumbling in the land of "know not where," it is good to remember the ancient ways.

The Language of the Rain

The rain has its own language.  Sometimes it speaks so softly the ears strain to hear it.  Other times there comes down upon the house a rising roar much like the sound of angry bees disturbed on a cloudy day. Sometimes it sounds angry and other times its language feels like a lover wrapping their arms around you. The front porch here at the farm is my favorite place to listen. There under the shelter of the porch, I can stay dry and still be surrounded and immersed in its many sounds as it come and arrives and pours forth water upon drought stricken land.   

A clerk in a grocery store today said the rain sounded like life pouring down.  "Not bad for a college student," I thought.  Most people her age would only see the rain as an inconvenience.  She was right, you know.  Water is life giving.  I saw a picture today of some African children joyfully drinking and splashing as water poured forth from a deep well that was new to their village.  A few days ago a cup of ice water brought forth a huge smile on the face of a homeless guy who was standing at the corner sweating and hoping.  Another image recently seen was a young man coming up out of baptismal waters with hands raised in praise to God. 

Jesus spoke to a Samaritan woman at Jacob's Well about a water which when given by Him would become in those who receive "a spring of water gushing up to eternal life." (John 4:14).  The Revelation to John ends with the image of "the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God...." (Revelation 22:1).  The Word of God speaks of the spiritual water emanating from the throne of God and experienced through the person of Jesus Christ as being life giving.  As it comes to us, a river of living water fills us and no longer shall we want, for it is like the still waters which restores our soul. (Psalm 23:2).  When we drink of it, we shall not want for we shall be satisfied. (Psalm 23:1).

Confusing Verses

Salvation is a gift from God.  Ephesians 2:8 makes this clear as it says, "For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this not your own doing; it is the gift of God."  The word from Ephesians is like bedrock.  What creates a bit of confusion for some is Philippians 2:12 which reads, "...work out your own salvation with fear and trembling..." How can salvation be a gift and something we are called to work out?  While no analogy is going to be perfect, is it not true that some are born with bodies built for running and some seem to have a natural ability to hear music and play music?  Is it not also true that those so gifted still must work and train so that their skills carry them past mediocrity to excellence?  

Salvation is a gift that opens the door to our finding and knowing once again our true self.  It must not come all at once since Jesus calls the imperfect ones we are to "be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." (Matthew 5:48).  The Apostle Paul was surely gifted with salvation understood that the the moment of gifting grace led to more, "I do not consider that I have made it on my own...I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus."  (Philippians 3:13-14).  

The Spirit of God is about His work in our heart even as we are called to be at work as well.  Sanctifying grace does not come in a moment, but over a life time.  The work of the early church after the Day of Pentecost is framed inside Acts 2:42.  "They devoted themselves to the Apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and prayers."  With these four disciplines these newly gifted disciples of Jesus began working out their salvation.  Disciplines have no saving power, but they do prepare us for what God wants to do in and through our life.

Pentecost Blessings

Being a retired preacher means it is not necessary to go to the church where you preach. I suppose after over forty years of listening to myself preach, it was time to listen to someone else have a go at it.  Retirement not only provides the opportunity of choosing, but also of going to more than one service of worship on the same Sunday morning.  Pentecost Sunday seemed like a good Sunday to exercise that privilege.  What was discovered was a Sunday of double blessing.  

The first church visited was one that had no denominational sign out front.  The worship was what is characterized as contemporary worship. The music though not preferred by this lover of the hymn book was good and the preaching was a strong Biblical message about Pentecost.  I saw some old friends there which was a blessing.  Another blessing came when I saw my name on their prayer list.  Once again I was humbled to the point of tears that my name had been called in these recent months of being treated for prostate cancer.  Overwhelmed was I when I introduced myself to someone and was told, "We have been praying for you.  May I share how God has answered our prayers?"  

The second worship service came later in a church where the sign matched my ordination papers.  "People Need the Lord," a favorite song that goes way back in my ministry was sung by the choir.  This preacher, too, thundered the Pentecost text from the second chapter of Acts.  An image he used which I hurriedly scratched on an offering envelope was framed inside the words, "The day when God showed up."  I carried the words home in my shirt pocket and in my heart.  It warms my heart and blesses me greatly to know that there are young preachers in the church where I have preached over forty years who are taking seriously the mantle of preaching for another generation.  "Bless us, O God of wind and fire!"

Prayer for Pentecost

"Lord, I pray that Pentecost would explode in Your church today.  Bring such disruption to our controlled institutional status quo that preachers want to run for safer places and  tongues so accustomed to Sunday monotone shout such praise that it seems as if their words are driven by holy power.  Lord, holy disruption and liturgical chaos is what we need.  We are a church set in our ways.  Like an old man who has lived so long as to only tell stories from the past, so has Your church become.  We need the holy fire.  We need  the wind that blows us off the seats of the status quo.   

Lord, I don't know how hard it was for You to pry those scared disciples of long ago loose from their fears, but the present day task looms so very large.  We pray for Your Holy Spirit to come, but we temper those prayers with "not today."  Predictable is how we like it.  We see order and control as spiritual virtues.  Shake the shepherds You have called to lead us.  Turn them into fire breathing prophets who speak not only to the injustice in our world, but also apostles who speak with boldness about the life changing power of Your Son, Jesus Christ.   

Lord, it is going to take a hotter fire and a stronger wind.  There is so much dross accumulated and complacency is like a blinding cloud.  Come, Holy Spirit, breathe not, but blow, blow from the four winds with such power that we know what it is to worship once again midst signs and wonders.  Bring in a season of repentance and forgiveness.  Cleanse us, Holy Lord.  We have become like dead men walking.  We wear with comfort the mask of the spiritual pretender and the robes of self righteousness.  Forgive us, Lord, but please come today with fire and wind.  Come and leave nothing but a church ready to be broken and poured out for Your sake.  Revive us, Lord, Much we need Your holy power in this day.  Amen."

The Journey Home

On the journey home yesterday from where we had been to where we were going,  exits were made several times from the hurried way to the softer and gentler places where real people lived.  Two homes became a haven filled with blessing.  First, there was a surprise visit with two friends known as college classmates back in the '60.  The welcome was so warm it felt like the journey had already ended at home.  It was clear that we were in sacred space where live had been and was still being lived,  

The second trip down the exit ramp was planned.  No sooner had we arrived than we were taken to a table filled with food that settled our hunger and conversation so real and rich that we felt as if we were  lingering around a table that was indeed a foretaste of glory divine.  It, too, was a wonderful moment that in some ways seemed almost sacramental, in the sense, that together as host and guest we were inside a precious holy moment.  

Before these moments of blessing, there was another.  It came shortly after our departure from where we had been.  Stopped at a traffic light, there came into view a man on the corner with a sign pleading for help.  As I rolled down the window and pulled out some cash from my billfold, he grabbed a walking stick that looked as ancient as did he and hobbled over to the open window.  As I handed him the money, my wife took a cup of ice given to us by my daughter for the journey and passed it to me to give to him.  It was hot afternoon full of humidity, the rain had not yet come, and it seemed he was more grateful for my wife's cup of ice than my folded cash.  Little did I know at the beginning of the journey, that a stranger and old friends would bring heaven crashing down among us. 

Walking in Harness

The farm which I call home is really a small place compared to the "real" farms all around me.  Most of the farmers around me work their farms as a way of life and the means by which they provide for their families.  While I have been called a "gentleman farmer" by some, I have never really liked that moniker since it seems to imply using the land for pleasure instead of its purpose.  I prefer to speak of the land as a working farm though I am the first to admit that less and less work is going on around here as the years are piling on.  The purpose of land that knows itself as a farm is to produce.  

I have tried over the years of being here to walk in harness with that purpose.  Gardens have been grown.  Fruit trees have been planted.  Chickens and cows have found a home here.  The pecan trees make their own harvest and the open fields grow hay and provide grazing land.  I am the maintenance man who tends and cares for the land.  After sixteen years of being here, I realize that I have been the servant of the land more than the owner.  I have come to understand that it is not I who owns the land, but the land which owns me.  It has become a part of me in a way I never knew was possible.  For all the sweat and sometimes blood invested over the years, it has blessed me with a place I know as home and where my soul belongs. 

In a larger sense whether we live in the open spaces or crowded urban streets, the earth, or the Creation as I prefer to call it, is our home.  Creation is a word which speaks to me more about the creative hand of God than words like earth or nature so I mainly use it as a way of expressing respect and honor to the creating God encountered in the first pages of Genesis.  Regardless of what we see outside our window and regardless of names on deeds, we live in God's Creation and as we do so, it is important that we walk in harness with its purpose.  Its purpose is not found in our desires, but in God's plan.

A Tale of Two Prayer Rooms

Every church should have a prayer room.  Not only should every church have a prayer room, it should be a room where prayers are prayed.  It should be regarded as one of the power sources of the church.  Money should be set aside for its maintenance and ministry, people should be challenged to be a part of its important ministry, and it should be in a prominent high traffic corridor instead of a place no one can find without a GPS system.   Churches have space dedicated for every conceivable ministry and no ministry is more important than its ministry of prayer.  

In the past year I have visited two prayer rooms.  The first one was hidden.  It was hard to find and it looked more like a storage area than a place which encourages and nurtures prayer.  It was obvious that it had once actually been used as a prayer room, but it had become cluttered with stacks of tables and leftover chairs.  The second prayer room was one I visited some ten years ago when the new church was built.  It was equipped and set up for praying.  It was a blessing to step inside that space and think about the lives its ministry would touch.  It was a place that was like a visible invitation to pray and I sat down back then for a time of praying. Today I was back in that church which was no longer new and I made my way to the prayer room.  I could hardly get in the door.  Boxes of Christmas decorations, chairs, tables, and all manner of stuff filled it from one side to the other.  It was a place of such promise in the beginning.  Today I left it filled with deep sadness. 

There are many reasons our churches are struggling.  There are many reason for mediocrity from the pulpit.  There are many reasons churches are more enamored with their history than hopeful for their future.  There are many reasons why churches are seeing so few professions of faith.  There are many reasons why baptisms are a rarity instead of the norm.  Their are many reasons why so many look at the church as an anachronism.  The most basic reason is found in the absence of a strong prayer room ministry.  It is a much needed and mostly neglected source of spiritual power.

Sure Footed Saints

The early morning hours before the sun finds its way over the dark eastern horizon must surely be the time God set aside from the very beginning as time for the soul.  It is not just the thought of one like myself who has podded instead of racing along the road of faith in Jesus Christ.  Unlike sure footed animals who tread the high mountain paths, I have done more than my share of stumbling.  Not even such a history keeps me from understanding the testimony of the sure footed saints who have gone before me.  

So many have left journals full of writings which tell us that early mornings are the best times for the nurturing of the soul.  A very simple axiom has proven itself true many times over the years.  What goes in is important.  What goes in determines what comes out.  When we fill our hearts at the beginning of the day with a time of listening for the Voice of God in Scripture and prayer, it is more likely that the heart is going to outwardly express the spirit of Christ in the ordinary moments of the day.  "Seek God first each day" is a good rule to follow.  It helps us stay out the miry bog and provides a hand in dealing with the temptations Satan throws in our path.  

I learned this again as recently as yesterday.  The sun was busy when I jumped out of bed and started racing toward the first place I had to be in a busy day.  I arrived on time, waited two hours, and then was told I would have to come back two days hence.  As patience and kindness disappeared from my spirit, anger came to take its place.  Throughout most of the day I fumed inside and made life miserable for those around me.  If God brought people into my path for His purposes, I was too busy nursing my anger to notice.  If it sounds like a wasted day, I would agree.  I should have followed the example of one saint from the past who got up even earlier than this his normal rising time to pray because he realized that they were more than the usual things to do.

Perspective

For a few minutes today, I sat beside a rapidly flowing creek which was narrow enough that the younger version of me would have figured to be "jumpable."  The older version which is the current version opted for sitting and watching.  Strange as it might seem to some, it was in many ways the highlight of the day.  It was shady, cool, and, except for the sound of the water running over rocks, quiet.  It was an unexpected oasis of stillness in the early afternoon.  The water was clear and I had in my mind that I might see a fish which did not happen.   

What I did see were some things which reminded me of who I am and where I fit in the order of the creation. This tiny running stream is hundreds of miles away from the ocean; yet, the water that I watched will make it to the ocean and, perhaps, return in the clouds to water the dry ground upon which I sat.  I could not help but be reminded that we are connected to one another and to creation as surely as Wolf Creek is to the ocean.  Our being conscious of such a connection is not necessary for it to exist.  Not a single one of us is the center of the universe.  We are simply and importantly a part of it.  

It is interesting that the Creation story in the first chapter of Genesis does not begin with the human creature who has come to think far too highly of itself.  In fact were it not for the creative work of the first five days, we would not be walking around thinking that the world revolves around us.  Perspective is important.  I am grateful for a quiet moment in which once again the divine lesson of perspective was taught to me. 

The Book

I fell in love with books back in the day when my mother took me to the library and signed me up for a summer reading program.  Even today going into a library filled with shelf after shelf of books and quietness is like entering a sacred sanctum.  Later I became a collector of books.  Once read and placed on the shelf, they become like old friends.  Some books are about entertainment.  Some are about opening your eyes and heart.  Some are read and finally closed with a sense of reverence and awe.   

From the very beginning of my history with books, the Bible was regarded as different and special.  When my mother gave me my first Bible, it was a big deal.  She taught me Bibles were to be handled with respect.   A Bible was not an ordinary book.  I could not have imagined back in the beginning days the way that one book would change and shape my life.  When I travel, it is packed to go with everything else.  It is the one book which never has a place on the book shelf except when it becomes so frayed it is retired.  The Bible stays close.  It is almost never out of sight.  Unlike some books that I may have to hunt, I always know where it is.   

Some may find it strange that a book would be regarded as a writing inspired by God, but such is how it is regarded.  It is not a book where advice is found, or a book where answers to life's questions are found.  It is a book where the voice of God has thundered across the centuries.  It is a book which has led millions to faith in God.  It is one of the places where God has chosen to make Himself known to us.  The Bible is not a book to be read, closed, and put on the shelf, but a book to be carried into every circumstance and corner of life.  It is a holy book which always seems as new as the next page.  It is timeless because its words are eternal and equip us for the life we were created to live.

Unexplainable

Standing deep in holy mystery is a humbling and overwhelming experience.  Who among us deserves to be graced with the presence of God?  Who among us has any right to a single gift from our heavenly Father?  Who can understand the ways of God?  Why are some prayed for day and night only to be lost to us while others are still here among us for no other reason than the grace of God.  It is beyond what we are able to comprehend.  Why do some receive the double portion (II Kings 2:9-12) and others what seems to be no portion at all.  Questions abound for us as we experience holy mystery.  Answers are few.   

What can we say other than not one of us is forgotten by God.  What can we say except that He knows our name and cares for each one with the heart of the Good Shepherd the Apostle John describes in his gospel (John 10:1-18).  I first started struggling with questions about the ways of God as a seven year old boy whose father went to work one day and did not come home. I am now so far from seven that memories are heavy with the dust of the past, but still I look for answers I am not likely to know in this life.  

There are times when our hearts can only whisper, "Lord, have mercy."  There are other times when we look at what cannot be known and are left with the words, "Thank You, Lord.  Thank You for this gift of grace."  The farther I walk with Jesus the more I see the clouds of holy grace ahead above the way much as the Hebrews walked through the wilderness with the cloud of presence leading them.  (Exodus 13:21).  God's grace has always been sufficient (II Corinthians 12:9) and because it is grace, it is unexplainable.

What is God Thinking

We never know where what we do for Christ is going to go.  In the past few weeks I have gone twice to the theater to see "A Great Awakening."  The second time was as impactful and as powerful as the first.  "A Great Awakening" is the story of the ministry of George Whitefield, an English evangelist, whose preaching brought to pre-revolutionary America a revival so widespread it is known in history as the Great Awakening.  Watching the movie about this moment in American history was experienced in a way that brought revival and renewal in my own heart some 250 years later.    

Out of the blue, pieces of a hymn came to mind this morning and I could not rest until I found "Blest Be the Tie That Binds" in a hymnal enabling me to sing it properly.  A man named John Fawcett wrote the hymn in 1782.  The hymn writer was born to poor parents in Yorkshire, England in 1740.  He became a Baptist minister and served a small poverty stricken church for fifty years.  Early in his ministry, he was called to a prominent and influential church in London.  He and his family packed the wagon to leave, decided they could not leave, and stayed there the rest of his days.  Though he became well know through writing and preaching, he stayed where he started and never made more than $200 a year.  It was the fellowship and communion experienced in this single church which inspired him to write, "Blest Be the Tie That Binds."   

Oh yes, there is one other thing.  John Fawcett was converted at the age of sixteen through the powerful preaching of George Whitefield.  Is it not amazing how God uses what we do for Him?  Is it not amazing that what we do for Christ can have effects which ripple far beyond the span of our meager years?  Who would have thought of using George Whitefield to convert John Fawcett who would write a hymn which is blessing the church 150 years later?  It makes us wonder what God is thinking about doing with what we are doing for Him in the present moment.

The Spittin' Image

My father's death when I was seven years old was a moment that was then impossible too comprehend.  As I slowly moved toward the days which were awaiting me, one of the things I relished most was being told that I looked like my father.  "He's the spittin' image of his Daddy," was an oft heard comment and one that caused me to stand a little taller.  As a boy I would stand in the mirror and try to imitate the smile in the picture, or study the blue in my eyes which everyone said I got from him.  As a boy who had lost his father too soon, I wanted to be like him. I wanted to look like him.   

The Bible makes it clear that we are children of God.  He is our Father.  There is something within us that speaks of the "spittin' image of the Heavenly Father."  Such casual language is not meant to be disrespectful, but a way of speaking of how we are created with the imprint of God in our life.  We bear His image.  (Genesis 1:27).  Too soon we lose sight of who we are.  Holy is who we are.  His image is not seen as we behold our physical appearance, but is instead, a word which points to our unseen inner nature.  

This inner nature is transformed from who we have become to who we were created to be as the Holy Spirit is allowed to dwell and transform our heart so that more and more it outwardly expresses the spirit and heart of Jesus.  Theologians have a word for this powerful transforming work of grace in the heart.  Sanctification is the word which points to this work of grace.  In some circles, sanctification is spoken of mostly as an event confined to a moment, but more correctly understood, it is the process by which the Holy Spirit takes a surrendered heart and transforms it in such a way that it begins to bear the image of the Christ.  "May the God of peace Himself sanctify you wholly..." (I Thessalonians 5:23)

The Way of Christ

There was a time when I thought I could live on the farm, never see anyone, never speak to anyone, and be content.  One of the things I learned about myself after some time had been spent at the farm was that while I value solitude and silence, being completely alone is not who I am.  The ancient Desert Fathers and the mystics did it, but I have a need for people that I simply cannot ignore.  

When God was doing the creation thing about which we read in Genesis, it was not enough to create man.  In the Creation narrative, we hear the Lord God saying, "It is not good that the man should be alone."  (Genesis 2:18).  In a short time there were families and communities where people shared life together.  There may be some who are called to live as hermits and find fulfillment in that lifestyle, but it is not something for the most of us.  We need one another.  We need the touch of others on our life and we need to touch the lives of those around us.  Even as the Garden of Eden speaks of the woman being a helper, so do we all need helpers in our life.  It matters not if we are male or female.

To acknowledge our need for helpers is to recognize that others need us to be their helpers.  In the letter to the churches of Galatia, the Apostle Paul wrote, "Bear one another's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." (Galatians 6:2).  Those words can be understood as Paul reminding the community to love one another.  We cannot bear the burdens of others, or love others in isolation.  It can only happen in a community.  The community may be small or large, but we all need one because it is within the community that we fulfill the way of Christ. 

Why Not Sooner

One of my favorite Hudson Taylor antidotes recorded in the biography which is a current read tells about a man named Mr. Ni, a long time resident of Ningpo.  Mr Ni was a Buddhist who had never come in contact with the gospel until he met Hudson Taylor.  When he heard about Christ, he was converted and became a student of the Bible.  A conversation is recorded between Mr. Ni and Taylor.  Unexpectedly he asked the missionary, "How long have you had the Glad Tidings in your country?  Taylor reluctantly replied, "Some hundreds of years."  The ex-Buddhist said in surprise, "What!  Hundreds of years? My father sought the Truth and died without finding it.  Oh, why did you not come sooner?"  

The church of our day has lost the urgency of the gospel.  We live in a culture where believing in something or anything is an acceptable alternative to believing in Christ. This position of accommodation has taken away the uniqueness of the Christ of the gospel.  Such a compromise may be embraced to keep from offending anyone, but it also refutes the reality of the Incarnation, the saving and forgiving power of the blood shed on the cross, and the victory accomplished through the resurrection.  

Jesus was not just a man who preached a message that merged with human created systems of theism. Neither did He come to become as a choice on the buffet table of religious thought. Instead, Jesus came as a presence who enables us to know the truth of God with us.  To truly be faithful to its calling, the church cannot speak of Jesus as being less the only One sent from God to show us the way to eternal life. So many people around us have not heard this message.  So many have not encountered Jesus. To paraphrase the convert from Buddhism, "Why are we waiting?  Why is the church not proclaiming Christ crucified and raised from the dead now instead of later?

Faith Based Missions

Before I finished a recent read about George Muller, a 19th century saint and caretaker for thousands of orphaned children, I was reading about one his contemporaries, Hudson Taylor.  Taylor is known for his mission work in China.  Like Muller, Taylor depended on God for providing funds and people to serve alongside of him in the mission work.  He, too, was a man of prayer as well as a man who trusted God without reservation.  In his day "faith missions were unheard of, the only organizations in existence being the regular denominational boards. "  ("Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secret" by Dr. and Mrs. Howard Taylor).  

The Zoar Church was one of the churches on my first Charge.  Every fall the church had on its schedule a week long Missions Conference.  As a greenhorn preacher, I had no idea what to expect when several missionaries from the Oriental Missionary Society came for a week to share their mission work and invite the members of the Zoar Church to make faith commitments to support their mission work.  These were missionaries who could not go back into their work until they had raised financial support from local churches like Zoar.  They gave flesh to mission work as they told stories of the work they were doing for God in far away countries.  

The missionaries who came to Zoar were spiritual descendants of Hudson Taylor.   Like him, they believed and practiced a faith based ministry.  My denomination sent and funded missionaries, but these folks were different.  They practiced a risky faith and they came to visit churches which supported them.  For many of us it was our first contact with a real missionary.  Taylor was passionate about presenting Christ to the people of China and those who serve Christ today in faith based ministries walk in his steps.   

Approach Boldly

A few days ago while reading the Scripture, a verse showed up that stayed long after the book was closed and life went on to other things.  It was one of those words that filled the mind whenever it went into a neutral mode and a word that seemed to hang out in the deep places of the heart.  No matter how well it seems to be pushed away from conscious thought, it just simply returns on its own accord.  From Hebrews 4:16 it speaks, "Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness..."  

It is a word that follows a section of Scripture which speaks of Jesus, the High Priest, being able to understand our weakness when confronted with temptation.  The words of those verses remind us that He, too, has been so tempted and tested only to do so without sin.  Jesus is the Priest who hears our confession, who understands, and invites us to approach the throne of grace with boldness.  We are not invited to a throne where judgement is dispensed.  We are not invited to a throne where we are obliterated into a sniveling mass on the floor by His majesty.  No!  We are invited to a throne where grace is given.  We are invited to a throne where what we do not deserve is given freely.   

We are not only invited to this throne of grace, but we are encouraged to come with boldness.  This is not an invitation to come in fear or dread.  We need not walk as one who has been beaten into the ground by our failure. No!  We are invited to come with boldness to the throne of grace because of the blood shed for us on the cross.  "Mercy there was great, and grace was free; pardon there was multiplied for me, There my burdened soul found liberty, at Calvary."  (Chorus for "At Calvary").  Ah, the cross where the blood was shed for you, for me.  Ah, the Throne of Grace.  Because of the Cross, we approach the Throne of Grace boldly! 

Fresh Wind

There must be value in predictable worship since it seems to be the norm across the Christian landscape. It can also be boring.  It can become something which requires only the activation of our mental autopilot.  As a pastor arriving in a new appointment, I can remember looking through the files of one church and seeing that there had been no change in the order of worship for over a decade.  There was no need for a printed order for Sunday worship in that place as all the regulars carried one in their head.  

It is not that there is something wrong with the Apostle's Creed, or the Doxology, or the choir anthem, but why is it necessary for it to be in the same spot every Sunday?  What would happen if the congregation was greeted with the Affirmation of Faith instead of "Good Morning?"  And on those Sundays when the sermon and the choir anthem fit together like a glove, why not end the service with the choir's musical offering?  The point is that there are different ways of doing the same thing.  

While it is true that worship can be made boring and uneventful regardless of any changes, it is also a possibility that doing things differently from time to time might enable people to stay awake longer.  It would also justify printing an Order of Worship.  It might even make worship less predicable which would seem to be a good thing since predictability has no intrinsic value.  Who knows?  It might even open some windows for some fresh Wind to blow.

Another Muller Musing

When I finished reading "George Muller of Bristol," I was reminded of one of the many things I have learned in these years of retirement.  Many a preacher has floundered after leaving the pulpit.  It is the same with any person who walks away from forty years of going to work.  It is not an easy transition for the prepared and impossible for the unprepared.  Muller started his orphanage work at age 30 and spent the next 40 years building and maintaining five orphanages which cared for thousands of children.  At age 70 he was led by God to begin what he called "missionary tours" to countries all over the world.  

These "missionary tours" would be called preaching missions today as he traveled and preached like an itinerant preacher.  From his seventieth to his eighty-seventh year, he traveled in forty-two countries.  The distance he traveled was over two hundred thousand miles which is equivalent to nearly eight journeys around the globe.  He preached over five thousand times to an estimated three million people.  In all these mission tours, he depended on God to provide his every need which included steamer fares, railroad journeys, hotel accommodation, food and living expenses.  It was funded by God just as had been the orphanage work. He prayed and without any appeal for human help, God provided.  Step by step the Lord led him forward, providing his needs as he went.  

As I walk toward my seventy-eighth birthday, I wonder how he did it.  Of course, I know how he did it.  He did what he did because of the grace of God and the way God used a man of such faith that we stand in wonder over a hundred years later.  Muller is certainly a witness to the way God takes our weakness to make His power known.  Could it be that many of us wallow around in a mire of uselessness because we are not asking God what He wants us to do?  One word of caution.  It might be a good thing not to ask unless you really want to know!

Two Streams of Christianity

There are two different streams of Christianity present among us.  One is Scriptural Christianity and the other is cultural Christianity.  The first is authentic; the second is a pretender.  The first looks to the written Word as the final authority.  The second holds the Scripture as a truth, but one which is given its authority only as it blends and affirms changing social mores.  Scriptural Christianity lives with the tensions inherent within accepting its authority while cultural Christianity erases the tension by compromise.  

The two streams have been flowing alongside each other almost from the beginning.  There have been times when one would overflow and overwhelm the other, but eventually it seems they separate and once again move in different ways.  From the beginning the two have always been incompatible and even now such is true.  The Apostle Paul recognized the two separate and divergent streams.  Instead of denying the reality of what existed as something other than Scriptural Christianity, he wrote, "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God--what is good and acceptable and true."  (Romans 12:2).  

One of the real challenges for the church and the believers of this day is to stand fast and to live in submission to the authority of the holy Scripture.  Wanting it to say something we want it to say, or not wanting it to say something which we do not want it to say speaks only of our desire for it to speak a word which is comfortable instead of one which creates tension in our life.  Too many times we have chosen what makes us feel good, or what seems less likely to offend than to chose an authority which transcends the ever changing cultural mores.  Today's mores will change even has as the ones of yesterday.  The Word of God; however, is as Isaiah said long ago, "The grass withers, the flower fades; but the Word of our God will stand forever."  (Isaiah 4):8) 

The Prayers of Not Knowing

It must be true that God sometimes speaks so softly that the sound of His voice is sensed, but the words are too faint to understand.  It becomes a strange moment of knowing and not knowing.  We know His presence.  We know there is something unique about the moment of revelation, but it is more a sensory knowledge than one that is visual or auditory.  We cannot argue ourselves out of the awareness that God is near and speaking to us.  It is something experienced and known more out of faith than certainty.   

It is the kind of spiritual intuitiveness which came to Cornelius and Peter before their encounter in the centurion's home.  Both were in separate places when the Spirit broke into the ordinariness of their day.  The first movement of the Spirit alerted Cornelius of Simon Peter's presence in Joppa.  Before the messengers of Cornelius arrived, Peter who was in Joppa on a roof top was brought by the Spirit into a puzzling moment of heightened awareness and expectation.  (Acts 10) What neither of them knew would happen at the sunrise of that day was a holy rendezvous which was first experienced in the spirit and required each to act out of faith that was operating not on the basis of what was known, but what was sensed at a level that was beyond understanding.  

When we come into those moments of knowing something so deep in our spirit that we do not have the words to speak of it, it may be the Spirit praying within us in the way spoken in Romans. "Likewise, the Spirit  helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs to deep for words."  (Romans 8:26).  There are certainly times when the Spirit works in the heart we have given to Him to lead us into the unknown will of God.  In those moments we know His presence and we know He is seeking to lead us, but knowing is beyond what we can know.  In such times we pray not because we know, but because we have faith in the One who is speaking to us out of holy mystery.

Movie Musings

A few days ago, I saw the movie, "A Great Awakening."  It is a great movie.  It is one I would encourage everyone to see.  It is a piece of historical fiction which is centered on a great spiritual awakening which took place in this country shortly before the Revolutionary War.  The characters through whom the story is told are George Whitefield, an evangelist, and Benjamin Franklin, a founding father of our nation.  It is a movie which is about more than just history.  Any serious historian will find some moments when the eyebrows of disbelief will be raised.   

The movie, however, is not a historical document, but is more a witness to the power of the gospel of Jesus Christ.  The letter to the Roman Christians has a word from Paul in which he proclaims, "...it (the gospel) is the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith..."  In visual form "A Great Awakening," captures the power of those words.  Anyone wondering what happens when the raw power of the gospel of Jesus Christ is unleashed through witness and proclamation will be able to see clearly the answer to such a question.  

One of the things noted by many who love the church is that the signs and wonders of the book of Acts are seldom seen in the church of our day. There is little to amaze; instead what the Holy Spirit is allowed to do in the church is hindered by our need for control and predictability.  A result of this is that we no longer see the power of the gospel unleashed to change and transform lives.  My wonder when the credits had finished rolling was what would the church look like if it once again made a decision to risk presenting the gospel in such a way that people were consistently confronted with the life changing power of the gospel of Christ.

It is Sunday!

This past week it has seemed every day that tomorrow was Sunday.  Today, Sunday has finally arrived.  Yesterday I received a sign that tomorrow was Sunday when I overheard two preachers talking about tomorrow's sermon.  When I went to bed last night, I knew that the sun would rise tomorrow on Sunday, which is by the way, today.  Today is Sunday.  Today is, therefore, the day I will be blessed by the opportunity of going to a sanctuary to join with others to worship God.   

Perhaps, part of my inner confusion this week speaks of the lack of a fixed daily schedule such as I knew before retirement, but the truth which I know to be true is that it speaks of my longing for God.  There are times in our life when it might seem to us that we can get along fine without God.  Most of us are guilty of such at some point in the past which is a part of our life, but there have also been those times when something, or Someone, within us draws us toward Him as surely as the waters of the ocean are pulled by the distant moon.  Such is how the Holy Spirit has been drawing me in these recent days. 

A Psalm often quoted is the 42nd Psalm which begins with the words of longing, "As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for You, O God.  My soul thirsts for God, for the living God."  (Psalm 42:1-2).  Sunday has finally come once again and while worshiping God is something we can do anytime and anywhere, it is good to gather in the house of the Lord.  "One thing I ask of the Lord, that will I seek after; to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple." (Psalm 27:4).  Thank God it is Sunday once again!

The Lord God of the Universe

Isaiah 55:8-9 has a Word spoken in behalf of God through the prophet; therefore, we need to hear it as if it is the voice of God speaking to us.  "For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways, says the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts."  When trouble comes, and it will even as it has, and we find ourselves trying to figure the way forward, this Word reminds us of our first source of help.  

Our troubles may surprise us, but they never surprise God.  We can only see as far as the curve up ahead in the road, but God's vision gives Him sight we do not possess.   The good news is that He not only sees what we cannot see nor understand, but He sees them differently.  In other words, the trouble which we see as overwhelming and impossible to manage has been seen through different eyes and is being held in different hands.  

The passage in Romans which reminds us that God works for good in the lives of those who love Him (Romans 8:28) certainly speaks of the Lord God of the Universe as the One who is at work.  His thoughts and ways are different, higher, and better than ours.  The Lord God of the Universe can do what we deem to be impossible; therefore, the first step into any trouble should not be one of human determination, but one of faith.  

The Word and Prayer

George Muller, a spiritual giant of the 19th century and a great man of prayer, was influenced by an 18th century preacher who stood in the spotlight of religious life in America as a great evangelist.  George Whitefield is known for many things, but one of them is his prayer life.  He has an unusual discipline which brought together the Scripture and prayer.  "I began to read the Bible upon my knees; laying aside all other books and praying over...every line and word," he said.  While I have heard of praying the Scripture, this particular discipline was a new one for me to consider.   

I love to be in the room when someone is praying the Scripture.  It is one thing to quote Scripture while praying as some do when they pray and acknowledge something the Scripture says as a way of enforcing their request from God and another when someone speaks life into the Word as if it something not memorized, but something which has a voice that speaks more of the heart than the head.  Several times in the last year I have been blessed by being present in the sanctuary when someone led the congregation in such a prayer.  

There are obviously many ways of bringing together the Word and prayer.  I have a friend who lives in Korea.  She recently celebrated her 90th birthday.  I met her years ago when she came to visit her daughter who was a Minister of Music in the church I was serving.  Many years before her 90th birthday she began the practice of hand writing and copying the Scripture as a part of her quiet time with the Lord.  If I recall correctly she not too long ago finished her sixth journey through the Word and has gone back to Genesis again.  I have been blessed many times by the prayers of this saintly woman who brings together the Word and prayer in her spiritual journey.

The Resurrection Message

By the time I made it to seminary in 1970, it was obvious the church was not too concerned with heaven.  It was the beginning of an era when the church did not want to be regarded as being other worldly.  There was not really much need to worry since the church was in the process of becoming too earthly.  The church which was being accused of having been too other worldly was moving toward becoming a church that could only see what was in this world.  Service took the place of spirituality.  Sermons about life after death were reserved for the final words at the cemetery.   

At some point the church seems to have come to a place of being embarrassed to preach the resurrection of Jesus and the life that is promised in the heavenly place.  It became something which was out of step with the secularism of the culture and the church out of its desire to be attractive and to blend with culture started watering down what was left of any proclamations about the resurrected Jesus.  Easter Sunday sermons became messages about difficult things being made new instead of of preaching which announced that death has been overcome by the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.  

I Corinthians 15 makes it clear that the resurrection of Jesus is the primary doctrine of our faith.  Without the resurrection of Jesus, the church has no message and the only task remaining for it is to lock the doors after a final benediction.  The message that Jesus has died for us and has risen from the grave is a message which shakes the foundation of every power of evil and, yet, even now a congregation is fortunate to hear it boldly proclaimed at least one Sunday out of the year.  Anyone wanting to hear about heaven needs to go to a funeral instead of the church.  

The Muller Way

George Muller served God in 19th century England.  Though he struggled early in his life as he tried to figure out where God could best be served, God put him among the poor of Bristol.  He is known for establishing a network of orphanages to provide for the forgotten children who lived around him.  What made Muller and his ministry so unusual was his trust in God.  In his biography entitled "George Muller of Bristol," Arthur T. Pierson wrote, "George Muller believed, and because he believed, prayed; and praying, expected; and expecting, received."   

Muller was a man guided by the Word.  It is said that he made no decision without praying and seeking God's direction.  It was his policy to never ask anyone for funds to support his work among the children.  He was convinced that God would provide and He did.  When he and the children were eating the last morsel of food in the house, he was sure God would provide the food needed for the next.  He believed in God, the Word, and prayer.  Being one familiar with Muller and his faith in God, I was often ashamed of spending so much time during the years of my ministry with fund raising.  

It always concerned me that the church could do nothing unless it was budgeted and the promise of funding had been made through a stewardship campaign in the fall.  I often tried to find some way of getting the work of the church done without so much effort going to raising funds.  Actually, I did not try every way known to me because I knew the story of George Muller.  Muller's faith and God's generosity always provided enough.  I should have tried the Muller way. 

Weakness and Power

Anyone who reads the letters of Paul is going to discover that Paul's body was abused by hardship, suffering, and persecution. In his second letter to the church at Corinth, he spoke of "...imprisonments...floggings, and often near death...forty lashes minus one...stoning...shipwrecked...adrift at sea...hungry and thirsty, often without food, cold and naked..." (II Corinthians 11:23-27).  In addition to all of the pains inflicted by others, he wrote, "a thorn was given me in the flesh..." (II Corinthians 12:7).  Three times he asked the Lord for relief, but it never came. Instead of healing, he heard the Lord say to him, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness." (II Corinthians 12:9).  

Scholars have speculated about this thorn in the flesh.  Some have said epilepsy and others declared it to be a nagging wife.  Whatever it was, it seems to be something which caused him to experience a weakness which hindered him in doing the work he felt God was calling him to do.  There is a difference in being tired and experiencing weakness.  Sleep and rest can overcome being tired.  Weakness is not something which disappears.  It is something which greets us in the morning and goes to bed with us in the evening. 

There are times such as Paul experienced when the weakness we know is chronic and mental determination has no power to overcome it.  To hear God saying, "My grace is sufficient for you..." is to hear a Word which tells us that despite what we cannot see, God can see what is invisible to us and that we remain in His ongoing plan.  We remain in it and continue to be useful to Him not because of what we are able to do, but because of what He can and wants to do through us.  Even as we live in weakness, we know, too, that the resurrected power and presence of Christ dwells in us.   

I Resent That!

It was a big church on as much acreage, if not more, than the farm.  The buildings were many and massive.  The parking lots stretched forever.  Police show up every Sunday morning to direct the traffic. The grounds were manicured.  The grass was lush green and was so thick had my cows been turned loose in such grass they would have thought they were in cow heaven.  I had seen it all many since it was on a much traveled road.  This time it was different.  

When I left home, I had been watching news about the wildfires that were raging in south Georgia not far from where I was born and the 50 homes which were burned and gone in an instant.  As I drove by the church, I suddenly could see nothing but sprinkler systems shooting water on that lush green grass. Without even thinking I said aloud, "I resent that!"  A few hours south of those sprinklers, the land is so dry farmers can not plant.  Churches and communities are gathering to pray for rain.  People are cleaning out closets to provide clothing for folks whose homes are gone and collections of water and eye drops are being given to those fighting the smoke and fire.    

Neighbors are enduring a drought, the land is burning, and there was water being thrown into the air on grass that looked like a great green carpet.  "What about a little solidarity?" I thought,  "How can you water grass when the land in which your neighbor lives is burning?"  We are capable of being such an uncaring society and, unfortunately, the church often seems to be as uncaring as the secular culture.  Jesus said to love your neighbor as yourself and just maybe turning off those sprinklers could become more of an expression of care and love than just saying we are praying for rain to come where the land is burning.

Psalm 118:14

Tonight during a random reading of the Word, I came across a Word which sent me back sixty years to the moment I said "Yes" to Jesus.  It was a few weeks before my high school graduation that I knelt beside my bed to pray.  Before I knelt to pray, the Holy Spirit had already put a Word in my heart through a visiting Methodist preacher.  I remember his words, "If you see a need and do nothing, you may be neglecting the call of God on your life."  It was one of those moments experienced by many us when we know it is God speaking and not just the one speaking in His behalf.  

As I knelt alone in my room, I confessed what I knew to be my sins, asked for God's forgiveness, and gave my life to Jesus.  Although I had gone to many altars and gone through the motions of repentance, this time it stuck.  When I raised myself from my knees that night, I was not the same young man who knelt to pray.  As I sat there on my bed, I opened my King James Version of the Bible and found myself reading Psalm 118:14.  "The Lord is my strength and my song, and is become my salvation."  It was the verse the Spirit gave me that night and I have carried it with me for these sixty years.  

As that verse given so long ago comes into view again, I testify that it has been true all these years and I am convinced that it will continue to be true for the rest of the journey.  God's grace has brought me thus far.  It is His strength which has always been under me.  He is the song which has always been in my heart.  He has indeed become the One who has saved me from a wasted life.  What I started learning to believe back then has become what I know beyond a shadow of a doubt to be true.  Thanks be to God for a Word given long ago and for loving me with a love that will always be more than I could ever thought possible.

Blessings

In the years since I left the pulpit, I have been blessed with space.  I have been blessed with silence.  And while life has not been like the life of a hermit, I have been blessed with solitude.  It has been said that the. house which I call home sits in the middle of a hay field.  Strangers seldom wander up the road which is little more than a two rut lane.  Most visitors who come announce themselves with the honk of a horn from the yard and do not stay so long that the tail lights of their car is a welcomed sight.  For some reason my first thoughts this morning centered on the way this place has had such shaping power in my life these past sixteen years.   

Having spent most of the forty years of my ministry career in more urban settings, I was surprised by the experience of living immersed in the Creation.  It has made me more aware of the presence of God in my daily life which seems strange to admit when most of my life has been lived within the shadow of the steeple.  Living midst the Creation encourages embracing a different rhythm.  It calls for a slower pace.  It reminds me to enter into the stillness.  It enables me to pay attention to the present moment.

As I sat on the porch the other morning, I realized that I did not need to plan quiet times; instead, I simply need to step into them and become a part of what is already present.  Is that not how it is with God?  We talk about seeking His presence through devotional moments and through worship when He is always present and a part of what is going on around us.  His presence does not need to be manufactured or even sought, but stepped into as one might step across the threshold of one room into a room which has always been a part of where life is lived. 

Praying For Rain

The western boundary of the farm is a branch that is as crooked as a slithering snake.  In my neck of the woods a branch is a term which means about the same thing as a creek, or a stream.  I call the branch on the edge of the farm "The Runoff Branch" because it depends not on a natural source of water, but upon the rain which runs off higher ground.  When it rains, it is full and flowing.  When there is no rain such as is the case in these drought stricken days, there is only dry caked dirt where water is supposed to be.  

The other day when I drove over the branch and saw it dried up, I thought of the prophet Elijah.  The story of his great battle with King Ahab and the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel began three years earlier "by the Wadi Cherith."  (I Kings 17:3).  Elijah lived by it, drank water from it, and ate the meat and bread brought to him by ravens.  Before he went there, he said to Ahab the King, "As the Lord the God of Israel lives, before whom I stand, there shall be neither dew nor rain these years, except by my Word."  (I Kings 17:1).  Each day Elijah drank from that stream, but there came that time when "the wadi dried up, because there was no rain in the land."  (I Kings 17:7).   

The epic battle between Elijah and the prophets of Baal ended with the defeat of those prophets and Elijah bowed down with his face between his knees.  Eight times he told his servants to look toward the sea and finally they reported "a little cloud no bigger than a person's hand rising out of the sea." (I Kings 18:44).  In a short time, heavy rain fell upon that land parched from a three year drought.  In the New Testament the Apostle James wrote, "Elijah...prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain...Then he prayed again, and the heavens gave rain and the earth yielded its harvest." (James 5:17-18).  Farmers around the farm are facing a terrible drought.  Churches and communities are gathering to pray for rain.  May heavy life giving rains fall once again on dry thirsty land.

Casting Long Shadows

As I walked by the book shelf a few days ago, a biography of George Muller called attention to itself in such a way I pulled it out for another read.  It was said of Muller who lived in 19th century England that he believed and prayed.  Without asking anyone but God for funds, he opened orphanages and cared for children and the poor of Bristol.  Seeing his biography caused me to think of others such as John Wesley, Francis Asbury, Hudson Taylor, E. Stanley Jones, Oswald Chambers, Charles Spurgeon, Charles Finney, and Dwight L. Moody.   

 

It was a moment for remembering these saints who have cast long shadows over several centuries.  It was also a moment of wondering if there were any out there today who will be remembered in the centuries still to come as saints who cast long shadows.  When I tried to stretch my mind to find some of today's saints who might be remembered past their time, I had trouble coming up with a list.  Maybe it is the nature of such spiritual giants that they labor invisible to their peers and are only seen in retrospect. I would like to think such is the case.  

 

I can think of some spiritual leaders who because of media have attained celebrity status and others who often stand in the spotlight of religious speaking circuits, but I wonder how long their shadows will stretch.  It could be that my vision is limited.  Maybe I am looking in the wrong places.  Maybe I am wearing regional or denominational blinders.  If you see some spiritual giants out there among us who will surely be remembered in the distant centuries, take a moment and share their names for those of us who are having trouble seeing them.       

The Privey Hedge Won

The privey hedge won.  Before any botanical geek goes bananas, it is correct and proper to call it privet hedge and it does belong to the Ligustrum family.  Around here and as long as I have lived, folks have called it privey hedge.  Maybe it was at one time a barrier between the house and the outdoor privey.  Anything is possible.  While some folks have it as fence like manicured hedge which is a part of the landscape around their homes, it also grows wild in places like the edge of the hay field here at the farm.  

While sitting on the porch this morning, I suddenly saw the privey hedge down across the field next to the branch.  Six feet tall it was and as prolific as a preacher's words.  Over the years I have fought it with chain saw and bush hog.  I have sweated enough to fill several large buckets and used huge amount of elbow grease in my ongoing struggle to get rid of the privey hedge.  I justified all that labor by saying it was cleaning up around the branch.   I have been here sixteen years now and that hedge is as strong as it has ever been and I am past having any energy to fight it anymore.  

When I saw it this morning, I burst out laughing and spoke it aloud, "The privey hedge won!"  I am through fighting.  It is the winner.  It is still here and will be here long after I no longer walk this land.  Creation has a way of putting us in our place and life in a proper perspective.  I used to think of myself as the owner of the farm.  Now I know I am just one in a long line of caretakers.  In a very real way I have learned that the farm has taken care of me.  It has blessed me.  It has given to me.  The farm, the land, and the Creation truly speaks to me of God's care, God's blessing, and the way He has given to me all the days of my life.    

Angels at the Crossroads

It is in the letter to the Hebrews that we find that verse, "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it."  (Hebrews 13:2). I remember my mother feeding and showing kindness to a homeless guy who showed up at the back door of our duplex home back around the time I was in the second grade.  Obviously, it left a lasting impression on me.  There were others who received kindness and care from her, but this one is the one always remembered.  

There was a time when I did not see angels showing up in my path.  There were other names I gave to them that kept me from seeing them as people God put in my path for a purpose.  It is not something about which to brag, but is instead something to confess and repent.  In that period of my life, deciding on the merits of their need was something I took upon myself.  It is strange how we can take upon ourselves a judgement which belongs not to us, but to God.  Somewhere along the way, the Spirit got my attention, opened my eyes to what He was doing, and began the work of prying open a heart that was determined to help only those who proved they had need.   

What this slow learner is learning is that God brings strangers into our midst not so so that we can judge them, or even to help them with some temporary solution to a problem, but because there is something about lives intersecting for the purposes of God.  When the idea that life is about chance and coincidence is thrown away, the only thing left that makes any sense is divine providence.  This slow learning disciple of Jesus is learning it is better to err on the side of generosity than the side of holding too tightly what is really not mine, but His.  These unknown folks who just show up on the road Jesus has put us are a part of God's plan just as we are as we walk with them.  They give us the opportunity to fulfill a part of God's plan in their lives even as they are used to fulfill a part of God's plan for us.

Morning Prayers

"Lord, I know there are wars taking the lives of innocent people.  Old people declare war and young people fight and die in them.  I know as the son of a soldier what it is like for a father not to come home.  Listening to the news makes my heart so heavy I cannot stay.  Lord Jesus, I know, too, about places where people have no clean water and never enough food.  People are suffering even in the places where guns are not roaring.  And, I know what You know.  I have never seen this country in which I live so divided, so contentious, and so full of angry people.  Lord, it is more than this mind can comprehend.   

There is all this big stuff touching the lives of thousands, and then there is the little stuff which my heart counts one by one.  I have been asked to pray for several friends in their battles with cancer.  They live in limbo between hope and fear.  My heart is heavy with sadness as I remember a life long friend whose wife has recently died.  My heart is heavy for him, but his heart is broken and now he must go on alone.  There are so many whose suffering has come inside the circle of my life.  There are some with addiction problems, some are actually carrying rifles in places filled with war, and others suffer chronic health issues from which there seems to be no relief.  

And, Lord, some for whom I pray do not pray, their hearts are hard, and they are pushing against the grace and love You are offering to them.  How do You pray, Lord, when the needs are as big as the world; yet, as near as next door?  Lord, so many hearts are broken.  My heart is broken.  Lord Jesus, strengthen my weak knees.  Keep me from growing weary.  Enable me to believe in what I cannot see.   May Your Kingdom come here among us as it is there in the place we call heaven.  Bless now Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Do those things which seem impossible.  Amen."  

The Journey

A Word from Scripture which can be found at the top of each blog post is, "...they confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth...they desire a better country, that is a heavenly one."  (Hebrews 11:13-16).  Some read the blog on Facebook, others subscribe to it.  Only those who actually go to the blog url (http://billjourneynotes.blogspot.com/) will see these words as the header or the title of each post.  It was an important Scripture Word in the beginning and is even more so now.  Our life of faith is truly a journey and God has blessed me as He has enabled me to write daily notes about the journey.   

It was never my intent for it to become some kind of sermon extension, but notes that reflected some of the things which were a part of the journey from there to here and from here to there.  It has always been my hope that what appeared as a post was an expression of what was being experienced in my daily walk with Jesus.  There are times when blog posts are written a week or so ahead, but most of the time what is written is influenced by what is happening in the daily spiritual journey into which I am led by the Holy Spirit.  There are times when a conversation prompts a daily reflection.  Other times it is a reading of a book, or even some Word which comes through the quiet moments shared in my devotional life.  Every moment has within it something which might show up in the words of some blog post.

We are all constantly encountering God in experiences and relationships.  It is not just every bush that is afire with God, but every moment.  These are the moments I want to share with those who give to me a few minutes of their reading time.  We are all on a journey that is taken by our desire to follow after Jesus and along the way He is constantly revealing things about Himself and ourselves.  It  is a good thing to pay attention in every moment and in every encounter lest we miss an important word He might speak to us.

Hard Moments

There are people around us we do not see.  There are people around us we do not want to see.  There are people around who we see and wish we had not seen them.  There are people around us who when seen stay on our minds, but even more on our hearts.  Most of us live most of our days without seeing the people who live beyond the reach of our radar.  We often pray for them as we do when we collect all their names together in our prayers for the sick, or the hungry, or the homeless.  We pray for them quickly and never really see them until we do.  

When we do, it can jolt our sense of well being.  I wonder what Jesus would do if He walked into a chemo treatment room filled with people whose hope was about gone.  I wonder what Jesus would do with someone whose mind was in a place other than the place where they lived.  I wonder what Jesus would do if walking on a road filled with people who were completely overcome by some of the worst stuff of life.  I wonder because whatever He would do is what we are called to do in those unbearable situations.  Into some situations Jesus brought healing, but not in all.  He cured some, but not everyone.  

As we struggle to live and care in a world filled with people we would rather not see, perhaps, it is a moment for us to pray healing prayers.  Certainly, those moments of awareness call us to pay attention to the person whose struggle is not one which can be laid down as easily as most of ours.  The letter to the Hebrews call us to remember those in prison as if we were in prison with them and to remember those being tortured as if we were being tortured with them. (Hebrews 13:3).  May we remember, too, those who live in impossible situations as if our situation was impossible as well.

A Friend's Gift

Beside the desk here at the farm stands a Paschal Candle.  It is a candle seen in churches more than in homes.  The wooden stand which holds the candle is four feet high.  The Paschal Candle itself is only two feet long, a bit short for most Paschal Candles, but this one is a used one which came from the local Methodist Church.  The Candle is first brought to full blaze on Easter Sunday to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  After Easter it has its place as it symbolizes the Risen Lord who is the Light of the World during the Sundays between Easter and Pentecost.  It is also lit for baptisms,  memorial services, Holy Communion, and other services of celebration.   

I enjoy having this candle here next to the place where I spend quiet time in His presence as well as the place where I search the pages of the Holy Word.  Often as I see it, I am reminded that we are always in the presence of the Risen Lord.  There is a story which goes with my Paschal Candle.  When I arrived at the Vidalia Church, there was no Paschal Candle so one of my members made the stand in his wood shop.  When I left some ten years later, Jack made a second one as a gift for me.  I used it in the next two churches and when I retired, it came with me.  The craftsman has gone to the heavenly place prepared for him by our Savior, but he is often remembered here in my home at the farm.   

Some people may not be image seekers or collectors of symbols of the Holy as I am, but I have found that they speak to my soul in ways that are beyond the power of words.  The remind me of that verse from Hebrews which says, "You have not come to something that can be touched, a blazing fire and darkness, and gloom as a tempest, and the sound of a trumpet, and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that not another word be spoken to them."  (Hebrews 12:18-19).  The writer of the Word writes of holy mystery.  In these years which are unfolding, I see the Paschal Candle made by the hands of a friend as a sign the holy mystery abides even here.

Loving Jesus

I am one of the fortunate ones.  I am one of the blessed ones.  I cannot remember a time when the Holy Word was not a part of my life.  About the time I got my first bicycle, a Bible was given to me.  As best I can remember it was around age six or seven.  The bicycle I rode many a mile, but is gone.  The Bible remains.  Actually, the very first one I was given is now in a special place in a drawer.  I pull it out from time to time to hold it in my hands with gratitude for a gift given long ago that still shapes my life.   

It was a black Bible with a zipper around its edges.  It was carried with me every Sunday to Sunday School.  I read the stories of the Old Testament and learned about Jesus when I was little more than a boy.  There is now a shelf in my library filled with Bibles, references, commentaries, and even a Greek New Testament with which I wrestled in seminary.  However, there is one Bible which sits on my desk just a reach away all the time.  It constantly calls me to sit with it, to read it, and to allow the Spirit of God to speak through its pages.  

Only a short time ago while reading from the last two chapters of Hebrews, I found those verses which spoke of Jesus being "the pioneer and perfecter of our faith."  (Hebrews 12:2).  Another spoke of Him as "the mediator of a new covenant," (Hebrews 12:24) and another which identified Jesus as "the great shepherd of the sheep." (Hebrews 13:20).  Finally, there was a verse remembered from those boyhood days, "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever." (Hebrews 13:8).  There is so much meaning and power in these words about Jesus.  Long before we loved Him, He was loving us.  It is a good moment, is it not, to just be in His presence speaking once again of our love for Him?

Preaching

The one thing a preacher can never know about a sermon is how God will use it.  Every good preacher wants to preach under the influence of divine inspiration every Sunday.  As one who preached for 43 year, I know that such was my hope, but there were those times when the sermon was preached in response to the pressure of Sunday coming instead of holy inspiration.  Some seem so mundane and ordinary and filled more with duty than inspiration.  The amazing thing is that God can use even these to speak to the seeking heart of someone who has drawn aside hoping to hear the Word of God.   

Many have been the times when someone would tell me how God spoke a Word to them from a sermon I preached without any expectation that such a Word would be heard from the message.  In these retirement years filled with listening to other preachers, I have experienced this holy work from the other side of the altar.  Just this morning a sentence preached in the middle of a sermon about Thomas washed over a deep place in my spirit in a way which was not likely intended by the preacher, but I am sure was planned by God.  One of the exciting things about preaching is what God chooses to do with it!   I am grateful for the good preachers I am privileged to hear in this season of my life.  

When I first retired sixteen years ago, I was convinced there were no good preachers anymore.  Either the preaching has gotten better, or God has worked on my cynical heart because preaching is heard so differently now.  I was always grateful for the opportunity to preach the Word of God Sunday after Sunday.  Why He called me to such a task is something I have often pondered.  I am grateful, too, for the younger men and women who are taking seriously the work of preaching in these days.  One of the things we  can all do to help our preachers is to pray for them as they carry forward this important ministry of the church.

Good to Be Awake

I came within an inch of not going to church this morning.  I overslept.  After verbalizing that excuse, the next one came very easy.  I was tired.  In "two shakes of a rabbit's tail" I had added a few more.  Then it happened.  From two different directions, a single verse of Scripture arrived on the front burner of my brain, or maybe it was to the door of my heart.  The verse was from Hebrews 10:25 which says a word about "not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some..."  Actually, I knew it was not just the habit of some, but my habit as well.  

So, I went.  Arrived late.  Very late.  It was not too late to receive a blessing I would not have received had I stayed midst the sheets.  I would say that I know the importance of "not forsaking the assembly" as the King James Version renders it, but then there was this morning.  I grew up in a home where worship on Sunday morning and Sunday night was not optional.  As I began to build my own spiritual foundation, I came to understand and appreciate the value of what I was taught as a child.  Some would say that as preacher, I had no choice but to be there each Sunday; yet, it is also true that I was one of those diehards who never gave up offering Sunday night worship for those who would come.  Gathering with other believers is important.   

At the worship service I almost missed this morning, my heart was warmed by witnessing and sharing in the excitement of one baptism after another.  I watched as people came forward to be a part of the future of the church through membership.  I got to hear "Victory in Jesus" one more time.  I heard a sermon on doubting Thomas which the Holy Spirit applied to my heart in a new and fresh way.  Thanks be to God that I did not sleep at home or in church this morning! 

The Shepherd

What Jesus gave Simon Peter on their early morning walk on the beach was more than just forgiveness.  The setting for the moment is after the resurrection,  The disciples had seen the resurrected Jesus and had gone back fishing.  It seems like a unlikely thing for them to do, but they went back to something which fit inside their minds. The resurrection of Jesus was not something the mind could comprehend.  In that moment and in that place full of what was familiar to the disciples, Jesus showed up with breakfast for the body and forgiveness for the soul.  (John 21).  

In a moment filled with images of intimacy, we see Jesus getting Peter's attention as a way of separating him from the group around the charcoal fire and then slowly walking with him away from the others.  With His arm across Peter's shoulder they walk.  Jesus speaks softly into the ears of this broken and confused disciple until finally they fill Peter's heart to the point of breaking it.  Three times Peter had denied Jesus in the courtyard and now three times Jesus asked, "Simon son of John, do you love me..."  (John 21:15, 16, 17)   The smoke of the charcoal fire remembered from the courtyard of betrayal and the thrice asked questions were not lost on Peter.  "Lord, You know everything; You know that I love You."  (John 21:17).  

What Jesus said not only spoke of forgiveness for what was past, but spoke of Jesus' plan to include Peter in the unfolding work of the Kingdom.  Forgiveness is not just forgetting about the past.  It is about living into the future with love, acceptance, inclusion, and trust.  The forgiven Peter was no longer one who betrayed, but one entrusted as a shepherd for the sheep of God's Kingdom pasture.  

The Charcoal Fire

I grew up in a family filled with men who loved to fish.  My memories of my Father are few, but many of them are about fishing.  A boat, a river, a washtub full of fish which I am sure were counted by him and the uncles who joined him that day are but a few.  One thing I have learned about fishing stories over the years is that there is always a number.  While some might say, "we got a mess of fish," and while others might hold up the fish laden stringer, the real fish stories always include the number of fish brought home.  If a fish story is told without the number of fish caught, the story might be suspect!   

 

The litmus test of fishing stories is in the number which is why we know the story told in the 21st chapter of John is true.  After the resurrected Jesus showed Himself to the disciples, Simon Peter announced not a church meeting, but a fishing trip.  After the cross and resurrection, who can fault Peter for wanting to wrap his hands around something which was comfortable and familiar.  "I am going fishing," (John 21:3), Peter said to six of the other disciples who joined him in the boat that morning.  It was a fishing trip which netted "...large fish...a hundred fifty-three of them..." (John 21:11).  It was quite a catch, but the real news of the morning was the appearance of Jesus on the beach.   For those disciples who were looking for the touch of something real, Jesus cooked breakfast on a charcoal fire on the beach. 

 

The crackling fire and the smell of charcoal was not lost on Peter.  We must not let the power of what was subtle be lost on us.  It was the sight of the low burning flames and the smell of the smoke from a charcoal fire which filled the eyes and nostrils of Peter in that moment of betrayal.  The same Greek word for the charcoal fire is used in both places.  When Peter was invited for a walk on the beach with Jesus, the smell of that fire surely brought back memories of the sin of betrayal.  Jesus did not chastise him, nor speak words of judgment, but forgave him and entrusted to him the work of the Kingdom.  He continues doing this even today with folks like you and me.

Gifts of God

The older we get, the more we accumulate.  We accumulate stuff, relationships, memories, and experiences.  In one of those retrospective moments which seem to hang out here at the farm, it occurred to me how little I had fifty years ago when I was assigned as the pastor of the Talbotton Church.  All the stuff could be moved in a single U-Haul compared to the move into retirement which required several loads of a friend's borrowed covered truck. The people in my life then were important, but they are not nearly as many as those whom I was still to encounter.  Of course, the same is true of memories and experiences.   

Of the four, stuff is the least important.  I like the stuff around me.  It is like a warm blanket woven with colored threads of the past, but what is most important are the relationships with which God has blessed me.  The people in my life not only bring meaning to the present, but they are the stuff of which memories and experiences are made.  In these more recent years I find myself most grateful for the people whose lives have intersected with mine over these years which are reaching closer and closer to eighty.  

The people of the past have become like a storehouse of blessings slowly being released into my life.  Each phone call, note, or renewed connection from the past brings back memories and experiences which bless my heart as surely as rain gives life to the soil of the earth.  Not only am I discovering the treasures of this vast storehouse of relationships from the past, but God is continually bringing me into relationship with people never known or seen which reminds me that His blessings are not just from the past, but they are ever unfolding before me.  I know that whatever is ahead, I have been blessed and continue to be blessed by these precious gifts of God.

The Will of God

Discerning the will of God is complicated by our inability in deciding what we want to do. Instead of living with a "Thy will be done," attitude, we often find ourselves working up a spiritual sweat as we try to fit what we want to do, our own will, inside what is often the clearly heard Word telling us to move into a season of change that is frightening to us because it takes us away from the security of our status quo.  The real problem for many of us with the will of God is not so much in knowing what it is. as doing it.  

For Moses it meant a task which seemed impossible.  For Elijah it meant sitting beside a drying up stream for three years.  For Mary it meant risking the ridicule and scorn of people.  For several of the disciples, it meant leaving their livelihood.  For Jesus it meant going into Jerusalem when He knew He would have to die on a cross before leaving it.  Of course, these are all the Biblical stories and we want to regard those stories as being different from our stories, but the truth is, they are not really so different.   

Most recently God has given me so many new people for whom to pray that I am tempted to tell Him my page is full, but just yesterday He added another.  What I know is that it is His will for me to enter a season of being a more active and involved intercessor for others.  There also seems to be something just beyond the spiritual horizon that I cannot see, but yet, find myself being drawn toward it.  Any of us who are are intentionally seeking to walk with Jesus have a story of discernment.  We sense God's leading, but as is always the case, we want to hesitate since taking the risk puts us in a place of being uncomfortably vulnerable.  One thing we have learned about the will of God is that going after it takes us to a place where depending on Him is required.  This is the frightening part since we would rather go after those things we know are possible in our own strength.  

A Pure Heart

I am living incognito now.  Most of my hair disappeared during chemo.  Today I went to the barber for some trimming and his suggestion was shaving what was left of my beard.  I thought about that one a minute.  In some ways I feet more attached to the hair on my face than the hair on my head.  Until now I have always had hair on my head.  It has changed colors and gone from thick to thin, but it has remained until now.  On the other hand, my beard has been with me since 1986.  Most folks will not know me.  My face has been invisible a long time, but no more.  All that ugliness I have been hiding is now clearly exposed for all to see.   

It is good to know that God recognizes me and knows me regardless of the amount of hair on my head or face.  He has known me when I had unblemished skin even as He knows me now despite my wrinkled and worn out skin.  My appearance has never affected the way God accepts me and loves me.  I have been reminded through the years that God looks not upon the outward appearance, but the heart.   The Word says, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God." (Matthew 5:8).  In another place it says, "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me."  (Psalm 51:10). 

There was a time when it seemed that we could make our heart pure by doing what we were supposed to do and not doing what we not supposed to do.  I long ago quit playing that game.  Like the Psalmist David said long ago, a pure heart comes not because of us, but because of God.  When we say "Yes" to Jesus, the Holy Spirit comes to dwell in us and to create in us a clean and pure heart.  A pure heart is indeed about a heart that has been given over to the control of the Holy Spirit and His ongoing work of grace in our life.