A sentence in the Bible is among the most powerful in the whole world, "The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus." The mortal penman writes of himself, "I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man" (1 Timothy 1:12,13). The bright light of Saint Paul’s self-disclosure pierces the darkness of the news stories of the last 10 days.
The darkness didn’t settle in like the quiet nightfalls with which we are accustomed. The media broke into our lives like a heavy woolen black blanket, suddenly extinguishing light with bewildering suddenness. For hours we watched and listened as the heinous crimes of two brothers destroyed Patriot’s Day and a world-class marathon in Boston. As shrapnel cut flesh and amputated limbs with bloody, brute force, American peace and sense of well-being was severed from our realities as it was 11 years ago on what we now call "Nine-11."
We wonder, "How can anyone do a thing like this? What is wrong with people anyway?" Until Friday evening, the Boston Metropolitan area was on high alert. Schools and businesses were closed until one corpse was in the morgue and another violent man was found cowering under a canvas boat cover. People expressed their relief by cheering police personnel and EMS workers leaving the scene of the 19 year-old’s arrest. Saber rattlers shouted vengeance epithets. Conservatives, often confused with true Christianity, could be heard calling for evening the score, inflicting justice, defending our culture.
Now, go back two millennia. Christians hid in fear, uncertain when the Jewish hit man would show up and murder members of their congregation. His prejudice and violent vehemence were as unpredictable as a suicide bomber. The one called "Saul of Tarsus" was passionate and determined to eradicate what he perceived as wrong. En route to another random act of murder and mayhem the grace of God appeared with blinding brilliance. The story is recorded in Acts 9 and 22. Christians who hid in fear were reluctant and slow to trust Paul, but they did! The hit man became the eloquent spokesman of the Spirit. We are still listening to him when the Epistles the Spirit entrusted him to pen are read. I have been moved, even transformed by each of them! I will use Paul’s letter to the Philippians as a text when I preach this coming Sunday.
The events of the past ten days have created a forum for several difficult-to-answer questions. Among the ponderous and snarly questions I ask myself . . .
Do I believe the grace of God is great enough to reach a 19 year-old terrorist who, like Saul of Tarsus "acted in ignorance and unbelief?" (1 Timothy 1:13)
Am I, after an appropriate season of trust-building, willing to accept last week’s hit man into the fellowship of the church? Will I introduce him to brothers and sisters as a "brother?"
If I cannot believe that God desires to include one person because he or she is "too evil" or "too violent," what hope do we have when Saint Paul says, "As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air . . ." (Ephesians 2:1-2) Am I saying, "‘Being dead in transgressions and sins’ in my case was more like having a chronic case of religious hangnails, a condition well short of "dead?"
How much grace does it take to save a person? Does God’s supply of unmerited favor kind of run out when it comes to hard cases? Is some grace deserved but some grace undeserved?
The circumstances are challenging. I did not bury a daughter or son, a victim of terrorism. I still have both legs. I only watched pictures of the horror while in the safety of my living room. But, the Spirit makes me restless. I must consider how the bright light of God’s Revelation pierces and destroys darkness. Saint Paul’s testimony is a dramatic definition of grace, and our world needs a full measure of undeserved favor from Him who died so all would be saved.
I am learning to pray for terrorists as I seek honest answers to my personal inventory of attitudes and convictions concerning the truth as revealed in Scripture.
It has been a long time since I have even thought of the happy, rhythmic, Gospel song Pat and I first heard on a visit to First Church of Deliverance on South Wabash Street in Chicago. We were engaged to be married, so it is more than 47 years ago when the mass choir and Hammond organ drove home a simple, powerful message. This morning I awoke with the signature tune of the church.
When darkness comes, don’t fret or cry;
Just call on Jesus and do as I.
He’ll save your soul, forgive your sin;
Just open up your heart and let the light shine in!
O, Jesus is the light, He’s the light of the world.
Jesus is the light, He’s the light of the world.
Yes, Jesus is the light, He’s the light of the world.
He’s ever-shining in my soul!
The unique rhythm, soaring and thumping cadences of an unbelievably gifted musician on the Hammond B3 reinforcing the 100 or more voices cannot be matched, but Pat and I imported the tune from Chicago to churches we were called to pastor.
I loved it then and I love it now! The tune and truth lifted us again and again as we simply "aired out" deeply held convictions. When it comes to reinforcing faith, I’ll sing Luther’s and Wesley’s hymns. I will sing the testimonies penned by Fanny Crosby when my soul is sore from the scrapes and bruises common to life. Crosby’s popular poetry is a salve for the bruised and broken. A verse or two of "Blessed Assurance," sung with Spirit speeds healing to frayed nerves and brings more peace to a distraught spirit than all the pharmaceuticals known to man. Can you hear it?
Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!
O what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,
Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood.
Refrain:
This is my story, this is my song,
praising my Savior all the day long;
this is my story, this is my song,
praising my Savior all the day long.
Perfect submission, perfect delight!
Visions of rapture now burst on my sight;
Angels descending bring from above
Echoes of mercy, whispers of love.
Perfect submission, all is at rest!
I in my Savior am happy and blest,
Watching and waiting, looking above,
Filled with his goodness, lost in His love.
Some of the songs we sang last Lord’s Day are sure to have a similar effect some day in years to come as worshipers remember and reflect. Lyrics filled with truth and tunes that wrap their arms around despair, defeat and distress have the knack of carrying it all to another place! Tunes and truths can disarm hatred, dispense healing, deliver hope, and dissolve hurts.
You may listen in http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWHg_F7YpK4 and capture a bit of the energy of First Church of Deliverance. A small library of additional high energy Gospel tunes that set hands to clapping and feet to tapping are only a click away on the information highway! Listen in! A great rendition of "Lift up your heads!" can be heard at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AI7mDpdc4YM.
If you are as inspired as I have been, maybe we will organize a tour to First Church some Sunday night!
What has become of simplicity? Maybe we who run endlessly in a quest for new and innovative ought to examine the arts. Good architecture usually features simple lines and colors which blend and compliment the structure’s setting. While good music may be demanding for an artist, the listener frequently goes away from the performance humming a simple melody that has been repeatedly and stylishly presented. After visiting the Louvre in Paris, the oil painting of the Head of John the Baptist on a Platter is the most memorable. It is unforgettable because of the content and the simplicity of the artist’s rendering.
Christian living and church attendance can become complicated! Modern Pharisees unwittingly add elaborate expectations and forget the effectiveness of simple. Teams of religious professionals work feverishly to smooth out potential rough spots, develop silky segues and modulate the faithful into a predefined attitude of worship. I appreciate the effort, but experience some disconnects when remembering the Pentecostal church that formed me. That church was more akin to a Quaker meeting when worshipers waited on God, sought the "sense of the meeting" and were rather comfortable with silence and welcomed unexpected
interjections of the Spirit.
The need for simplicity has dawned on me again in the last few days. The first reminder came as I read Luke’s account of Holy Week. Jesus’ simple statement interrupted my progress as I read. Jesus told his disciples how they would know whom to ask for permission to use a room for Passover, "As you enter the city, a man carrying a jar of water will meet you" (Luke 22:11). You’ll know whom to ask! You won’t need a lot of help! It’s simple!
The copyright is dated 1960. The times were more simple. One didn’t have to half disrobe before boarding an airplane then. A person with a few wrenches and a high school class in mechanics could tune up his own car. Typewriters hadn’t been relegated to the garage yet. And, V. Raymond Edman, past President of Wheaton College, wrote They Found the Secret, a compilation of short biographical studies of people who changed the world. While reading I was reminded that the great revivalist, Charles Finney, who studied to be a lawyer, dared to seek God as an answer for a barrenness in his spirit and interrupted a work day to meet God. He sought the Lord all alone, in a woods near his law office. Finney had been challenged with the phrase, "When you search for me with all your heart," and resolved to discover the promised result. The future revivalist described the effect his encounter with the Almighty as, "It seemed as if my heart was all liquid; and my feelings were in such a state that I could not hear my own voice in singing without causing my sensibility to overflow.. I wondered at this, and tried to suppress my ears, but could not." This experience occurred repeatedly as Finney accompanied himself playing his cello. Charles Finney’s story and others are worthy of reading.
In the same book, V. Raymond Edman described the wisdom of Adoniram Judson Gordon with, "The infilling of God’s Spirit was not an ecstasy to be kept selfishly, rather, it was the dynamic of discipleship that constrained a Great Heart to seek humble fisher folk and hopeless drunkards that they may know the living Savior as their own."
A. J. Gordon spoke of the circumstances which moved him toward an encounter with God. He wrote, "Well do we remember those days when drudgery was pushed to the point of desperation. The hearts must be moved to repentance and confession of Christ; therefore more effort must be devoted to the sermon, more hours of elaborating its periods, more pungency put into its sentences, more study bestowed on its delivery. And then came the disappointment that few, if any, were converted by all this which had cost a week of toil." In short, Gordon confessed to how he and his peers were caught up in the complexity of life and ministry.
Gordon’s achievements are note worthy. He was an able revivalist and founded Gordon College near Boston, an excellent school until the present. But, his most lasting work may be a series of books he authored. The titles are now quaint, each beginning with Quiet Talks on . . . A. J. Gordon’s books have shaped my life in the nooks of quiet reading and in the crannies of difficulty from which I was uncertain there was an escape. Each bok is amazingly simple. The language is quiet. If the manuscripts were autos, they would be the "SE" model, not the "Limited!" The truths captured by Gordon are enduringly simple and strong.
The last reminder to revisit simplicity occurred last Sunday morning, Our pastor simply invited people to come toward the altar with words of encouragement and assurance. God was present in that moment. Musicians played quietly, people lining the altar listened to those standing beside them. The challenges some faced were staggering. Many wept. Others found it difficult to describe what they confronted. God was there and gave a word of encouragement, a prophecy or word of wisdom, and noone needed to be told that God had spoken. After the extended, glorious interruption, sans segue or human transitional segment, we returned to our seats saying to one another, "Everything is going to be all right!"
Let’s keep it simple!
What would our world be like without flowers? In the morning I walk around our yard and about our neighborhood. I discover new blossoms, new scents, new life at every turn. The peach trees flower with promise of tasty fruit to follow the springtime flowers. Apple trees are poised to do the same. Pansies started by patient commercial gardeners border a walkway. The lowly Forsythia shares her yellow blossoms for a few brilliant hours as a caution light announcing the brilliant reds of roses to follow. Iris and Crepe Myrtle are not far behind.
Bees busily fulfill their assignments, buzzing from blossom to blossom. They hover, hesitate and complete their responsibility. The promise of fruit is in every hovering hesitation. The world is being prepared for the God-painted mural of living grandeur in the coming weeks. Ever emerging, the tulip will dazzle in brightness, lilacs will share her purple and fragrance, and Hosta with varied greens and delicate blossoms are presented from Heaven’s palate of beauty.
Tucked away in a remote section of the Older Testament, Solomon observed.
Flowers appear on the earth;
the season of singing has come,
The cooing of doves is heard in our land.
The fig tree forms its early fruit;
The blossoming vines spread their fragrance. (Song of Solomon 2:12-13)
Before dawn birds promise a day of beauty, like "the cooing of doves," they echo from ornamental Firethorns and soaring pines. They trill songs to the joys of morning light, growing days and promise of another view of God’s kaleidoscopic beauty.
What would the world be without flowers? A world without a compelling evidence of a creative God! Small seedlings of head lettuce, broccoli and Brussel sprouts await transplanting. Carrot, beet and radish seeds will be drizzled into the soil, all for their food value. Though each displays a beauty of its own, flowers seem to exist only for their beauty!
Seasons of life have advantages and disadvantages, ups and downs, pluses and minuses. One of the pluses of our present season is the blessing of perspective. In the productive full-of-energy years we were too often immersed in daily tasks to have any appreciation for the coming reality. In fact, we spent years plowing hardened spiritual ground and sowing seed which sometimes which seemed would never germinate. Our hands were calloused and our souls often weary.
But, today we are able to rejoice because the seed, the Truth of God’s Word, germinated and is bearing an abundant crop. The power of the parable of the seed (Luke 8:1-15) has been flowing toward us as an ocean rip tide current. Our understanding of the power of the Gospel in this season of life is almost overwhelming.
To illustrate, in 1991 we purchased an abandoned Presbyterian church building in Newark, New Jersey. At the time Newark was the poorest city of its size in North America. She was also among the most violent cities in the United States. Home ownership was an unfulfilled dream for more than half of the residents. Rental units were poorly maintained and building code violations were ignored by slum lord owners. Arsonists kept the fire sirens’ loud screams assaulting our ears daily. One of our well-intentioned advisors later told us, "I thought you had lost your mind going into that place." The first years of removing stones (fluttering pigeons and chattering rats) were difficult, a necessary step leading to a bountiful harvest.
On Easter Sunday Vailsburg Assembly of God met in the building which a few years ago was home to pigeons, rats and vagrants who dared to break in and warm themselves and their meals on charcoal grills. The church conducted two services and 527 people were in attendance. Seven people were baptized in water and fourteen passed from death to life as they confessed the Risen Christ as Savior! The once fallow soil is a rich loam producing abundant fruit. Hope is no longer deferred. Faith has become sight!
A second illustration of the blessing of perspective is the record of what has happened in the life of the first child enrolled in Growing Garden Preschool. Growing Garden opened in the Fall of 1993 with less than ten students the first few weeks. Denise was the first student, the daughter of her single mother, Caroline, a Liberian immigrant. Almost immediately Caroline began bringing Denise to Sunday School and church services at Vailsburg Assembly. Since then, Caroline married a man saved through the ministries of the church and they are now active members.
Denise went on to graduate from high school and completed her undergraduate studies at Rutgers University. At Rutgers Denise grew spiritually as a member of various campus ministries and continued to mature in her walk with the Lord. In a few weeks we will be creating a video record of the importance of the role Growing Garden Preschool and Academy played in Denise’s life. She is now a graduate student of robotic engineering at a university in New England. Vailsburg’s pastor, Jermel Mayo, says that Denise is an inspiration and example to the church’s thriving youth group.
In the years of formation at Vailsburg, the dream was clearly before us, but the hoped for results were still hidden. The definition of faith is constant, "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" (Hebrews 11:1). On occasion our faith was challenged, our vision dimmed by fatigue and opposition from many sources. But, today our perspective is different. The "pluses" outrace the "minuses," and the "advantage" of the perspective in this season of life outweighs the "disadvantages" that come in every stage of life experience.
In brief, I encourage those who are in the middle of removing stones and dealing with obstacles, don’t give up! In what seems like a few weeks, life will present a new vantage point, a different perspective. You will have reasons for rejoicing!
