Paperwork

 November 29, 2022

“Jesus didn’t walk around carrying a briefcase.” So said my father-in-law many years ago as he was filling out the almost endless year-end reports for his church. I realize that in our increasingly bureaucratic world, paperwork is an unwelcome necessity, but it does often seem as if we spend more time reporting on what we have done than we actually spent doing it. ‘

Fifty years ago when I worked for the county department of social services and computerization was in its incipient stages, state bureaucrats would visit the department on a regular basis to make sure we were filling out the required reports. I can still hear my casework supervisor John Gianas raging as he shouted to the state man, “My workers could be sitting under a tree all day, and as long as they checked the right boxes, you’d never be the wiser!” Even back then, we were spending more time in the office writing up reports than we were out in the field working with the people.

Christianity began as a movement within Judaism, but it didn’t take long for it to become institutionalized. That’s not necessarily bad; Christianity might easily have died out had it remained only a movement, but there’s no doubt something gets lost in the transition. Looking back over the years, I have often wondered how much spiritual productivity got lost in the organization. Often, one’s standing in the church was measured by how many committees one was on, or even better, chaired. Spiritual depth wasn’t necessarily required; merely a willingness to sit through meetings.

I will never forget the night my father came home from another church meeting and announced that he had resigned from all church responsibilities except the trustees. “It was taking too much time from my family,” he explained. I didn’t know it at the time, but I believe that single decision was more influential in my own spiritual life than any other. He set an example that I tried to follow all the years of my ministry, so much so, that at my very first administrative board meeting at the church I served for 32 years, I told the board members that if there were a conflict between a church meeting and something my children were involved in, they were not to look for me at the meeting. 

I wish I had heard my father-in-law’s pithy statement years ago. He summed up my perspective to a “T”: Don’t let the paperwork detract from the real work of making disciples for Jesus Christ.

Advent Lament

 November 28, 2022

I read this Advent devotional from Ann Voskamp this morning. Maybe it will speak to you as it does to me.

The Laments of Advent:

When It Doesn’t Feel Like the Light’s Coming Fast Enough

Maybe you’ve felt that way. You’re in a dark place; your prayers seem to bounce back at you from the ceiling. You long for light that doesn’t come. 

You can’t make light. All real light really isn’t from here — all real light comes from beyond this world. Real light is not mined from somewhere in the depths of this rock spinning in a dark cosmos, nor real light grown in trees on some remote mountain slope. All light comes from beyond this world and we will have to wait for the light to come.

 

All light always involves waiting…

All the light we see out the window’s been traveling 300,000 km a second, for the last 480 seconds — more than 8 whole minutes since this light left the sun — before it’s finally reached my eye, warmed my feet, twice as long as it takes to steep the cup of coffee in my hand.

 

All light has always made a journey. And every moment of our existence, since our first breath, we’ve always waited for the light to come.

 

We can dare to trust: The light is coming, and light’s literally the very fastest thing in the universe. Nothing has ever travelled as fast as light, and nothing has ever come for you as fast as light. More than 186,000 miles per second — just to get to you, warm you, envelope you, revive you!

Is the Light really coming when we’re all living with broken hearts and busted relationships, when time’s ticking loud and parts of our hearts have soundlessly detonated, when lament is the dialect of every honest Advent?

Is there actually more light here than we can ever even see? Most visible light isn’t most of the light. Nearly all of the light is the light you can’t see. Even when you can’t see the Light, there’s infinite more light right here. They say that the human eye can only observe 0.0035 percent of electromagnetic spectrum. “The light we can see, made up of the individual colors of the rainbow, represents only a very small portion of the electromagnetic spectrum. Other types of light include radio waves, microwaves, infrared radiation, ultraviolet rays, X-rays and gamma rays —”all are imperceptible to human eyes.”

Most visible light isn’t most of the light.

Nearly all of the light is the light you can’t see.

I read these words and began to think about how little we actually see of all that actually is. We beg for relief from the pain that circumscribes our world. It’s all we can see, but there is always more. But we often must wait. Because light doesn’t come from within, we must wait for it to arrive. So tonight as I sit in the artificial light of the lamp by my chair, I watch the light outside fade to black, knowing I cannot rush the morning. The light is coming, and will arrive when this longitude in its turning once more faces the sun. And in my heart and in my prayers, I turn to face the Sun of Righteousness who arises with healing in his wings (Malachi 4:2).

Advent 1

November 27, 2022

So it begins. Advent 2022 is upon us as we begin this season of watching and waiting. For those like myself who were not raised in the tradition of Advent, it is tempting to see it as the time we prepare for Christmas, and in a way, that is so, but it isn’t the real purpose of the season. The Lectionary Scriptures for Advent are always prophetic, whether it is Isaiah speaking of a child who would be born, a Son given, Micah telling us where the Messiah would be born, or the Revelation of John speaking of Jesus’ return when “every eye shall behold him.” 

The real focus of Advent is on Jesus’ second coming, and the necessity of our preparing ourselves for that event. We look back to the prophets who saw Jesus’ first Advent as a way of learning how we are to look forward to his second Advent at the end of the age. The look backward is not an end in itself, just as looking forward to the Christmas celebration of that first coming is not the end of the story. We look back so we can look forward with the faith of the prophets who expected bad times, but were confident that no matter how bad things got, God was still in control. 

Isaiah told us to “wait upon the Lord” as a means of renewing our strength for today. Waiting isn’t just sitting around twiddling our thumbs. When we go out to dinner, someone waits on us. They are busy serving, doing their best to make our dinner the best experience it can be. In the same way, we wait on the Lord, serving him as best we can until the day Christ returns. 

This being said, Advent has begun for us. Traditions take over. Linda and I set up and decorated our tree last night. The star at the top (yes, it’s the same one as in “A Christmas Story,” and the one that topped our tree when I was growing up), and Mr. Monkey (I won him at a shooting gallery when I was six years old) just below, and then the rest of the ornaments can be hung. I confess to a bit of nostalgia, but our confidence isn’t in somehow recreating our childhood Christmases, but in looking forward to Jesus’ return by preparing our hearts right now to serve him no matter what the culture says. The Christmas lights are on, but even better, the light of Christ never goes out. May we shine brightly so Jesus can be seen in us. November 27, 2022

So it begins. Advent 2022 is upon us as we begin this season of watching and waiting. For those like myself who were not raised in the tradition of Advent, it is tempting to see it as the time we prepare for Christmas, and in a way, that is so, but it isn’t the real purpose of the season. The Lectionary Scriptures for Advent are always prophetic, whether it is Isaiah speaking of a child who would be born, a Son given, Micah telling us where the Messiah would be born, or the Revelation of John speaking of Jesus’ return when “every eye shall behold him.” 

The real focus of Advent is on Jesus’ second coming, and the necessity of our preparing ourselves for that event. We look back to the prophets who saw Jesus’ first Advent as a way of learning how we are to look forward to his second Advent at the end of the age. The look backward is not an end in itself, just as looking forward to the Christmas celebration of that first coming is not the end of the story. We look back so we can look forward with the faith of the prophets who expected bad times, but were confident that no matter how bad things got, God was still in control. 

Isaiah told us to “wait upon the Lord” as a means of renewing our strength for today. Waiting isn’t just sitting around twiddling our thumbs. When we go out to dinner, someone waits on us. They are busy serving, doing their best to make our dinner the best experience it can be. In the same way, we wait on the Lord, serving him as best we can until the day Christ returns. 

This being said, Advent has begun for us. Traditions take over. Linda and I set up and decorated our tree last night. The star at the top (yes, it’s the same one as in “A Christmas Story,” and the one that topped our tree when I was growing up), and Mr. Monkey (I won him at a shooting gallery when I was six years old) just below, and then the rest of the ornaments can be hung. I confess to a bit of nostalgia, but our confidence isn’t in somehow recreating our childhood Christmases, but in looking forward to Jesus’ return by preparing our hearts right now to serve him no matter what the culture says. The Christmas lights are on, but even better, the light of Christ never goes out. May we shine brightly so Jesus can be seen in us.

A Worthy Prayer

 November 26, 2022

The more I learn about prayer, the more I realize how weak and misdirected many of my prayers have been. From the beginning, I was taught that God speaks to us in the Bible and we speak to God in prayer. What I was not taught was that talking to God is much more than listing our requests. When prayer is limited to asking for favors, it ceases being a personal relationship; it morphs into a business arrangement which ends up keeping God at arm’s length. Even worse, when prayer is limited to requests, we tend to pray only for temporal matters. Whenever we ask for prayer requests, inevitably, the responses lean heavily on such things as people’s health, and only lightly touch on matters of eternal importance. 

I’ve been studying the prayers of some of the Biblical personages, and find in them a corrective balance that is changing the way I pray for the better. Take for example, Paul’s prayer for the Roman Christians found in the first chapter of his letter by that name, verses 9-13.

“For God is my witness, whom I serve with my spirit in the gospel of His Son, that without ceasing I make mention of you always in my prayers, making request if, by some means, now at last I may find a way in the will of God to come to you. For I long to see you, that I may impart to you some spiritual gift, so that you may be established— that is, that I may be encouraged together with you by the mutual faith both of you and me. Now I do not want you to be unaware, brethren, that I often planned to come to you (but was hindered until now), that I might have some fruit among you also, just as among the other Gentiles.” —Romans 1:9-13 

This prayer is like most of ours in that it is light on thanksgiving (although in the previous verse he gives thanks for them), and heavy on the requests. But notice the flavor of his requests. There are four of them, and not a single one mentions their health, or asks for relief from persecution or troubles of any kind. The four requests are seen in the little word “that,” and are as follows:

1. that he might find a way to come to them,
2. that he may impart a spiritual gift to them that would establish them in their faith,
3. that he himself would be encouraged by their mutual faith, and
4. that he might have some fruit among them.

What a worthy pattern for our own prayers! I wonder how much it would change my own outlook on life if I prayed this prayer on a regular basis. Would I be more intentional in my witness, more determined to share my faith, more attentive to the opportunities God gives me to lift the name of Christ? Would such a prayer cause me to dive more into the Word of God, to consider more deeply the significance of the resurrection of Jesus which Paul mentions earlier in the chapter? Paul’s sole concern was for the spiritual well-being of these believers he had not yet met, but whose faith had stirred his own heart. His whole reason for living was to tell as many people as possible about the Savior who had rescued him from his murderous and prideful ways, melting his hard heart, and forgiving his sins. His own encounter with Jesus Christ was so transformative that his prayer was solely to be able to share the Good News with others. That’s the kind of relationship with Christ I want to have, because it’s the only source for the kind of prayer I want to pray.

Follow and Worship

 November 25, 2022

One of our adult Sunday School classes is studying St. Paul’s letter to the Romans, with the leader encouraging the participants to read through the entire book once each week. Repetition helps us pick up things we miss at first glance. So even though I’m not in that particular class, I thought it would be instructive for me to engage that same discipline of reading through the book each week. I started today, and only got a few verses into the first chapter before I had to stop and ponder what was before me.

Chapter 1, verse 4 says, “Jesus Christ was declared to be the Son of God with power…by the resurrection from the dead.” Paul does not say Jesus Christ became the Son of God through the resurrection, but that he was DECLARED to be the Son of God with power through the resurrection. There is a big difference. The Second Person of the Trinity has always been the Son of God with power, but it was the resurrection that in a sense put an exclamation point on the fact. The resurrection powerfully demonstrated once and for all who Jesus Christ is—the Son of God.

This is a big deal! It’s one thing to follow Jesus because of his teaching, but quite another to worship him for who he is. We follow good examples (and often bad ones, too), but we don’t worship them. Worship, bending the knees of our hearts, is reserved for God alone. Now, it’s easy to say this, but much more difficult to actually worship. I know for a fact that I have followed Jesus’ example and teaching much more than I’ve bowed before him. Perhaps part of the reason for this is that I haven’t given the resurrection the place it deserves in my thinking and life, and have therefore missed God’s power for living the resurrection life.

Psalm 96 says it best: “Come, let us worship and bow down, for he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand.” Follow Jesus, but in following, let’s not neglect worshipping him as Lord, Savior, and Almighty God.

Gratitude

 November 24, 2022

Social Media is filled today with words of thanksgiving. It IS Thanksgiving, after all! Today everyone gives thanks; tomorrow will be back to normal. Why is it we save all our gratitude for this one day and forget about it the next? What kind of gratitude is that? 

I will never forget the day it finally dawned on me that gratitude is not optional equipment for the Christian. I had lived most of my life under a cloud of melancholy; I would have days of joy and contentment, but instead of living with emotional and spiritual technicolor, most of the time  it was blacks and white against a grey background, and that was even knowing Jesus. I often wished I could feel the joy others seemed to feel, but even worship rarely lifted me from the flatlined existence I had.

One day in December 2012, God spoke to me: “Where is your joy?” I had to confess I didn’t know, and then I read 1 Thessalonians 5:18 where St. Paul said “Give thanks in everything, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.” It suddenly dawned on me that this wasn’t merely a suggestion; it was a commandment, one which I had been disobeying for most of my life. I began giving thanks every day, and a little over a year later, I woke one morning to discover that the cloud of melancholy was gone. And as long as I keep giving thanks, it stays gone.

I’ve since learned that Paul’s command wasn’t the only time giving thanks was commanded. In Psalm 107 for example, we are told no less than five times to give thanks, first as a command, then as a prayer repeated four times in verses 8, 15, 21, and 31.

“Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good! For His mercy endures forever. 

“Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness, And for His wonderful works to the children of men!”

No less than 18 times in the Bible we are commanded to give thanks, besides all the times the writers voluntarily offered their gratitude. But as we as a country continue to drift from our Biblical roots, gratitude is left in the dust behind us along with our Bibles. The result is predictable: though we are blessed beyond measure, we are among the unhappiest people on the planet. Gratitude, it turns out, isn’t a product of our blessings; it is a matter of the heart, a determination of the soul. 

We have much for which to be thankful, not only on this day, but on all days. Even in the darkest and most difficult of times, gratitude is warranted, and can spell the difference between life and death. We choose gratitude, and we choose bitterness. Thank you, God, for opening my eyes to the power of gratitude, and in so doing, you gave me a new lease on life. All this because in Jesus Christ there is always a reason to give thanks.

The Stranger

 November 22, 2022

Our porous southern border is hot news in the political realm these days. Left and Right battle it out, with the Left intoning the Christian gospel, of all things, and the Right insisting that failure to secure the border will bring the downfall of the country. Abbott’s and DeSantis’ bussing of illegals to self-proclaimed sanctuary cities has added an interesting twist to the whole matter, but for those of us not living along the southern border, the issue easily gets murky. 

In Deuteronomy 10:17 we read, “The LORD your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God Almighty and awesome, who shows no partiality nor takes a bribe…who administers justice for the fatherless and the widow, and loves the stranger…therefore, love the stranger.” The text continues by reminding Israel that they were strangers in Egypt, which should give them a particular sympathy for the stranger in their midst. 

God’s character is clearly stated, and the corollary is that the defining character of anyone who claims to love God is how he treats the stranger. In this context, receiving the stranger is not a governmental responsibility, but a personal one. It never ceases to amaze me how so many people are compassionate with someone else’s resources. We are content to let the government or charitable institutions do our good deeds for us rather than shoulder the responsibility ourselves. 

So I must ask the question: “How do I treat those in my vicinity who are different than me? Am I willing to go out of my way for them? Am I willing to sacrifice my time and energy to help the less fortunate, or do I dismiss them with callous words of indifference?” My treatment of others should shine like a beacon, showing the world what Christ is like; too often I am less compassionate than the unbeliever. The Scripture is both an encouragement and a goad to me. Its message of grace is God’s lifeline to this sinner; but it also shines brightly into the darkened corners of my heart, revealing hidden places still in need of that grace. Today’s text is that searchlight on my soul tonight.

Climate Change

 November 21, 2022

We inhabitants of the modern era of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries tend to assume a  somewhat arrogant posture relative to the wisdom and knowledge of previous generations. We believe that the explosion of scientific and technological knowledge has somehow negated that of our ancestors; that we are better than they. Aside from the fact that the twentieth century was awash in blood, that all the cruelty and destructive aggression recorded in history cannot compare with what we did in just two generations, the absurdity of such thinking is appalling.

Just because our way of interpreting life is different doesn’t mean it’s better. Take the matter of climate change, for example. I have listened to experts for the past fifty years as like modern day Chicken Littles, they steadily predicted catastrophe in the next ten to twenty years if we didn’t grapple with first, global cooling, then warming, and now, merely “climate change,” which covers their backsides whichever way the wind blows. We are told that the future of life on earth depends on our cutting carbon emissions and jumping off the cliff of renewable energy. All this is predicated on computer modeling, which is often little more than the juggling of numbers. 

I’m all for science. Research into heart disease, cancer, and a multitude of other diseases has yielded incredible advances in medicine. We understand the benefits of hygiene and the detrimental effects of overcrowding in our cities. But we don’t know everything there is to know, which means it behooves us to apply a bit of humility to our knowledge.

In Deuteronomy 11, God tells his people that if they obey his laws, he will bless them with rain, good crops, and healthy cattle, but conversely, if they disregard his commandments and engage in the worship of the demonic gods of the inhabitants of the land, he would send drought and blight. Any modern scientist would dismiss this as mere religious superstition or as a means of scaring people into certain behaviors. This may be true, but if so, it is no different than today’s experts demanding that we abstain from certain behaviors lest we destroy the planet. 

I have to wonder though, whether or not the Scriptures have given us a balancing perspective we sorely need. Both world views contain implicit definitions of sinful behavior; the difference is in what kinds of behaviors matter, and although direct correlation can be hard to maintain, the fact that the further we move from our Judeo-Christian heritage, the worse our weather patterns seem to be, is to me, worth pondering. Being a good steward of the earth is built into the foundations of my faith; I am grateful tonight for those foundations, but also for the Scriptural testimony that when this world passes away, there is a far better one awaiting.

Frames

 November 20, 2022

“For as the heavens are high above the earth, 

So great is His mercy toward those who fear Him; 

As far as the east is from the west, 

So far has He removed our transgressions from us. 

As a father pities his children, 

So the Lord pities those who fear Him. 

For He knows our frame; 

He remembers that we are dust.”

—Psalm 103:11-14

Psalm 103 begins with a wonderful paean of praise to the LORD: “Bless the LORD, O my soul, and all that is within me bless his holy name,” and continues with reasons to worship and bow before him. In the middle of the psalm, David speaks not only of God’s mercy in forgiving our sins, but also revealing God’s heart by telling us that he is merciful because he understands our weaknesses. God sees our sins not only as rebellion or disobedience, but as a weakness that plagues us in spite of our best intentions.

In speaking this way, David chooses an interesting word to describe our condition. He says that God “knows our frame.” The framework of a building consists of the components that holds it together, giving it size and shape. The framework of our bodies is our skeletal system, without which we would be mere flabby blobs of tissue, muscle, fat, organs, and skin. We would be like worms and slugs without our “framework.”

A building’s frame is hidden away inside walls, floors, ceilings. We never see it unless we have to tear out a wall for some reason or other. We only see what is external, which can be deceiving. Many a person has bought a house that looked good on the outside, but closer inspection revealed rotting sill plates, punky studs, or termite infested framing. So when it says that God sees our frame, we are being told that he sees beneath the exterior trappings that we spend so much time making sure it is looking good.

And when God looks at our framework, what he sees is cause for alarm—we are dust, the most unsuitable stuff for supporting the structure of our lives. No wonder we so easily crumble when life’s storms break upon us! We thought we were strong, that we built a good character, laid a solid foundation, but it turns out we were building with dust.

The only adequate foundation, Paul tells us, is Jesus Christ (1 Cor. 3:11). There is no shortage of “good” people, who are educated, upright, kind, even religious, but who have no foundation, no framework that will withstand that last storm life hurls our way—death. I talked recently with a friend who is a good man; whose integrity I would place above my own. In our conversation, he confided that he hopes it will be enough to see him through to the presence of God, but doesn’t have the certainty that I enjoy. The framework is a bit dusty. 

Hurricane Ian devastated large swaths of Florida last month. A friend posted a photo of a section of Ft. Meyers where he had a winter home. He had drawn a circle around what looked like nothing net to a large block structure. “That circle is where my house once stood.” I’m sure the framework wasn’t exactly dust, but in the face of such a storm, it might as well have been. I’m sure before the storm that house looked nice, vinyl siding, manicured lawn, very tidy. But the storm revealed the frame, just as the storms of life reveal ours.   

I am grateful that God knows my frame; he isn’t surprised by how feeble and frail it is, and because he understands, he mercifully and freely forgives, and offers us a new start, a new foundation, sturdy and trustworthy. That frame is Jesus Christ, who enables this dusty frame to stand firm in the strength he alone provides.

Streams in the Desert

November 19, 2022

The handwriting is tiny and precise, revealing a penmanship honed from years of secretarial work. Comments in an old devotional originally published in 1925, this copy dating from sometime after 1950. “Streams in the Desert” was written by (in words of her own choosing) Mrs. Charles Cowman, formerly with her husband a missionary to Korea and Japan until her husbands failing health necessitated them returning to the States.

I write not to inform about the author, but about the original reader, my mother. The devotional deals mostly with trials, disappointments, and the patient waiting that often comes to the Christ-follower. Out of her own struggles in these areas, Mrs. Cowman wrote, encouraging those who would walk the same lonely and shadowy paths. I treasure this little book with words underlined and with short, cryptic comments in the margins, not so much for the author’s gentle wisdom, but for the light those neatly written commentaries shed on the inner life of my mother.

In response to a question I asked later in her life, she revealed a few of the ways life was difficult for her, how she faced trials and challenges that most people never knew she endured. The margins of this little devotional are filled with words such as “patience,” “waiting,” “sorrow,” “sickness,” disappointment,” “frustration,” and “tears.” I’ll never know exactly what lay beneath such words; I was never burdened with the cares she shouldered, as they were borne silently in the closet of her own prayers. For seventy years I was the beneficiary of the fortitude and faith that met each circumstance with a strength not her own. 

Whether we know it or not, every day we encounter people carrying crosses too heavy for them to bear. Some collapse right before our eyes; others bravely struggle on, hiding their burden behind a smile, a joke, or as often as not, anger, cruelty, and bravado. Few are bold enough to leave traces of their struggles as did my mother. I am grateful tonight for her devotional, for her comments, her prayers, her victories in hard-fought battles won at great personal cost. I am most grateful though, for the Lord Jesus Christ, her Savior and mine, whose strength, wisdom, comfort, and love carried her till the afternoon she bid this world goodbye to step into His presence to receive a crown and his blessing, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in little; I will give you authority over much. Enter into the joy of your Lord.” 

Contrast

 November 17, 2022

It wouldn’t have been so noticeable if I hadn’t just gotten back from a week in Cuba. I woke up early (for me) at 5:00; my alarm was set for 5:15, but as long as I was awake, I figured I might as well get up. Our men’s Thursday prayer group meets at 6:00, so after brushing about 5” of snow from the truck, I drove over to the church to meet with my brothers for prayer.

At 10:00, Linda needed to be at church to prepare the room for her Healthy Bones exercise class, which meant I needed to have the driveway cleared before then, so when I got home at 7:30, after a quick breakfast, I fired up the tractor. For the next hour or so, I was pushing snow around. About 10:15, I picked up and delivered a couple of the women for her class, switched vehicles, and went home. 

Next, it was time to get the winter tires out from the back deck where they had been sitting all summer. Digging the jack out of a pile of junk that seriously needs to be dealt with, and I was ready for the next job. Linda got home, and switching tires was next on the agenda. It’s not a complicated job, but is one of my least favorite; and it needed to be done. By 2:00, it was.

2:30 found me on my way to my friend Harry’s house to pick him up so we could help move furniture for my daughter. A family was donating office furniture to Options Care Center, so about eight men gathered to load up a trailer full of filing cabinets, desks, chairs, etc. By 4:00 we were done, and Harry and I were on our way back home.

Linda was waiting with supper at 5:00, and finally I am sitting down to write.

Why do I bore you with such detail of the day’s activities? Because it’s such a contrast to my week in Cuba. Life is so much slower there. Breakfast at 8:00, a 10:00 meeting on Monday and Wednesday, 8:00 pm meetings Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, with a memorial service on Thursday and seminars on Saturday. That sounds like a lot, but there was a lot of down time, which gave me time to work on my Spanish and simply relax. 

There has to be some sweet spot in between these two poles of activity, but I have yet to find it. I am grateful for the Biblical command to observe the Sabbath. We are commanded to work six days, but the seventh is for God, a day to reflect and remember what the work is all about. Two more days and Sunday’s coming. Until then, there is work to be done, a reason to rise and shine for Jesus. I’m tired now, but tomorrow is a new day; I want to make the most of it for the glory of God.

Connection

 November 16, 2022

At least we can talk now. When I first began going to Cuba, there was no internet. No one walked around with their nose in a cell phone, which was refreshing, but I didn’t like not being able to all with Linda for whatever time I was there. The authorities tried, and for years succeeded in keeping information from the outside world from getting to the people, but family and friends in the US were traveling back and forth and bringing news and information that the government wasn’t able to control. Bit by bit, things loosened up till now, nearly everyone has a cell phone. The government still controls the narrative, but people know life elsewhere is better.

But I digress. Soon after arriving in Cuba, we were able to buy temporary SIM cards that enabled us to use internet messaging to call and even video chat with family back home. Unfortunately, the service is spotty and intermittent. The lightning strike that in July torched four 850,000 gallon oil storage tanks in Matanzas only added to the difficulties caused by the government’s response to the pandemic. Almost all Cuba’s electricity is generated by oil, and the loss of those tanks was keenly felt. Then hurricane Ian hit, completely knocking out the power grid for the entire country. Back in September, the electric was only on for about an hour a day. Now, the rolling blackouts are only for four or five hours.

So there were times especially in the mornings when I desperately wanted to talk with Linda and was unable to connect. Which got me to thinking…Why is it I am more desperate to talk to Linda than with God? Why do I so often rush through prayer as if it were a chore instead of a spirit-filling joy? What if I were as diligent in seeking God as I was in trying to connect with my wife? 

I wish I could say with the psalmist, “My soul longs for Thee, as the deer pants for the water,” but it wouldn’t be entirely true. There are times when I can speak those words, but not always. What I do know is this: If I don’t seek God with desperation, eventually I don’t seek him at all. Love neglected soon cools; the fire goes out. The logs of prayer and meditation must be regularly added to the fire if there is to be any heat or light. There is no other way. And unlike the fire in my stove where I can quickly toss in another log, stoking the fires of love requires time; much time. 

I think that’s one of the lessons of Cuba. Life is slower there. People walk most everywhere; few have cars. Feet are the most common mode of transportation. Walking takes time, as does everything else in Cuba. There are no fast foods, few canned and no frozen items. Cooking is a slow process, and with supplies of everything being in short supply, everything takes longer. No one is in a hurry, and any given day has large blocks of time that can be wasted or invested. I chose to invest more than waste, so prayers are not so truncated as they tend to be here. The trick now is to incorporate Cuban time into American life. It’s a challenge worth the taking, and as the rewards are great, I am ready for it.

Fulfilled Prophecy

 November 15, 2022

Sometimes prophecies are fulfilled in strange and unexpected ways. I was in Cuba, speaking to the congregation of a church in Jovellanos when I heard a loud bang on tin roof. A little boy jumped from his seat, ran down the aisle and came back moments later with a huge mango that had dropped from an overhanging branch. He gave it to Yami, one of the pastors. She turned, handed the mango to me and said, “Whenever a mango drops, whoever we give it to is to start a new congregation in the next twelve months.” She added, “You are a Caleb.” You are wondering what you will do when you retire. You have new mountains to conquer. Go and conquer.”

That was ten years ago. I retired from the church I had pastored for 32 years, spent three years figuring out what retirement was like before taking on another church for an additional three years. Starting a new congregation didn’t happen. 

Last night I got home from another trip to Cuba, where a most interesting thing happened. This past Thursday (the 10th), I had just finished up a second teaching on leadership in the church, when a woman stood up and began talking. She had listened to my first teaching on leadership and was feeling confused about what it meant for her. But hearing what I had just finished saying in the second session, she believed God was telling her to sell everything she had and move to a new city to start a new church. 

Ten years on, and in a way, I am starting a new church…indirectly, perhaps, but I’ll take it, with gratitude. With our God, you just never know.

Everyday Hero #18

 November 2, 2022

In 1968 I met Earl Higley. He was a lanky farmer who felt God’s call upon his life and was living it out working for Miracle Mountain Ranch in Spring Creek, PA—a Christian kids camp birthed just a few years earlier out of the vision and hard work of Dale Linebaugh, graduate of Bible school and eventually PhD and president of a Bible college. But that was years in the future. 

Earl didn’t teach or lead groups; he was all-around help. As a former farmer, he understood all that went into keeping a stable of horses fed, housed, and healthy. I worked as boys counselor for two summers—68 and 69.

An interesting side note—about twenty years ago, I was introduced to a man at a graduation party. He looked at me quizzically and asked if I were the Jim Bailey who had worked at Miracle Mountain Ranch years ago, and didn’t I like peanut butter on my pancakes. When I affirmed that I indeed was that Jim Bailey, he rushed forward, gave me a big bear hug and said, “You are my spiritual father. You led me to Christ one night in the bunkhouse, and I’ve been looking for you ever since!” To say that I was surprised is an understatement! I remember counseling and talking with the boys one on one each night, but didn’t remember this particular encounter. You never know what impact you can have on a child if you’re just faithful to clearly share the Gospel and ask for a response.

Back to Earl Higley. After my second year at Miracle Mountain, Linda and I were married. We set up housekeeping in the tiny hamlet of Alma, NY, nestled in the foothills of the Alleghanies along the Pennsylvania border. 

One night, Earl showed up at our door. He came to talk, so we stood, leaning against the fender of his car, recalling camp stories and enjoying each other’s company. He told me that from his experience at Miracle Mountain, he had felt God calling him to start a Christian camp in Kentucky; a pretty significant step for a middle-aged former farmer. As the sun settled behind the mountains to our west and the stars started winking in the dark, Earl looked down, kicked the gravel by the side of the road, and quietly said, “Isn’t it amazing? God could raise up better servants from the stones beneath our feet, but he chose us.” 

Yes, Earl, it is amazing. You’ve long since gone to be with the Lord you served so well, but your wonder at the goodness and grace of God remains with me to this day, which is why you are another of my Everyday Heroes.

Leadership

 November 1, 2022

Who is qualified for leadership? Don’t you wish there were some sort of gauge that could tell us whether a leader is able or trustworthy? Too often today, what we call leadership is little more than selfish ambition dressed up in fake altruism. It sounds good, but is rotten at the core. 

Numbers 17 tells a curious story. Israel’s leadership has been under continual attack from within and without. In chapter 12, Moses’ siblings Aaron and Miriam challenged his leadership. This was an assault from within, at the very top of the system. In chapter 13, ten of the 12 spies sent to reconnoiter the land declared it too difficult, again challenging Moses’ position. In 14, the entire nation listened to the majority report, refusing to move forward. This was not merely insubordination; it was outright rebellion. In chapter 16, Korah and Dathan, along with their supporters, again challenged Moses and Aaron’s oversight. This wasn’t quite as serious as Aaron and Miriam’s offense, but it appears that their earlier rift paved the way for this defection. So for five chapters, the leadership of Israel has been repeatedly challenged by pretenders who saw themselves as heirs-apparent to Moses whom they would as soon displace as succeed.

So a test was devised, this curious matter of each of the leaders of the twelve tribes placing in the tabernacle their rods, symbols of their authority. The rod that budded would then reveal the leadership God had chosen. Aaron’s was the budded rod. The story seems made of superstitious stuff, things that could never really happen, but there we have it in the Bible in black and white.

I’m not a particularly gifted Biblical scholar, and haven’t researched the various commentaries on the subject, but it seems to me that at the very least, this teaches us that the test of leadership is in fruitfulness. We often get it backwards, especially in the church. We send candidates to school, then to seminary, subject them to batteries of psychological tests, then put them in small churches, only to advance them through the system irrespective of the results they do or do not produce.

In some parts of the world, they’ve understood that an academic approach to spiritual leadership is fundamentally unsound. It’s not that there is anything wrong with education in itself. Once, John Wesley, who was highly educated, was chastised by a woman who said, “God doesn’t need your education.” He replied, “He doesn’t need your ignorance, either.”

Education is good, but instead of the endless pursuit of degrees as a measure of ministerial office, why not do what is done elsewhere? In Cuba, a pastor isn’t given a church. The candidate is told to go start a church. Only after doing so and overseeing its growth is the candidate approved for ministerial service. Fruitfulness counts more than an academic degree. I think this fits quite well with Jesus’ words, “By their fruits you shall know them.” 

The trick is in understanding what Jesus considers worthy fruit. We all know that anyone with enough talent can attract large crowds. It’s the changed lives that count. I’ve long ago left the notion behind that a large church is a good sign. It may be, but more telling are the testimonies of those who can say, “You made a difference in my life.”