I visit Rhea about once a week with a church member who has been Rhea’s long time friend. Rhea is 84 years old and lost her husband about eight years ago.

We were sitting in Rhea’s rooms at a local assisted living complex. My friend, Ray, was inviting Rhea to his upcoming birthday party. Ray is turning 86 years old.

I am not sure how or when the conversation turned, but I discovered that Rhea was recounting her husband’s death. I was stunned to silence as I watched her relive his death moment by moment in her mind. Rhea would speak a few sentences and stop. I could tell that in her mind’s eye she was “seeing”  the next scene. Her husband had experienced a heart attack and stroke. She painted the shocking and chaotic scene at home and the arrival of the ambulance, the hectic trip to the hospital, the crucial flurry in the trauma area of the E.R., the moving of her husband to a room. She is in the room with her husband. “He did not speak to me,” she quietly said. She sat next to him for two days. She spoke to him over and over, assured by the doctors that he could hear her. “He did not speak to me.” The words had the same impact on me as if she’d said, “My child died.”

Rhea became silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. She was seeing something she did not want to see. There in her rooms her eyes teared up and she whispered, “Then he was gone and he never talked to me.”

The way Rhea repeated this refrain made me rethink conversation. I so easily lose the pricelessness, dare I say holiness of speech between a husband and wife, between friend and friend. I will never hear her husband’s voice, but she heard it and then lost it by his death. I have no idea what they talked about, how they talked, if they ever fiercely argued, how they made up; I’ll never know. But I could not escape the profound heartbeat and loneliness in her words, “He did not speak to me.”

When Rhea stopped remembering I felt like I had walked a sacred path with her. That she had invited me (and Ray) to some “private rooms” of her soul. Ray was so sweet as he held Rhea’s hand as she relived the starkly pivotal event in her life.

Visiting older people has been like walking into a palace filled with treasures. I’ve chatted with a 93 year old man who met General George Patton in North Africa and Patton was wearing his pearl-handled pistols. Six degrees of separation and all that.

I saw Rhea today…at Ray’s birthday party. She was happy and engaged in the festivities. Yet, for a brief few minutes, Rhea had opened a door for me into the hall of all that is valuable.

Is this not one of the most creative ways to keep an enduring love enduring? Milly says that she doesn’t know of anyone else who does this. My friend and I had never heard anything like it, either. Just think: this gift exchange is not just between Milly and Don, but between a beloved father and thoughtful mother and their children. “What did Dad get you this year?” Milly says the upside of this ritual gift-giving is that she now gets exactly what she wants from Don. Funny lady. I don’t know if Don can see this simple, but significant ritual twice a year, but if he does, “I can only imagine,” as the song goes, the smile on his face as he laughs and the love for Milly in his heart blazing strong.

A regular practice keeps the fire of love alive. Once a month, on the first Sunday, we, Fellowship Evangelical Covenant Church, enact a similar practice of love. The gift-giver is Jesus and he hands to us the broken bread and offers to us the redemption cup. As we celebrate the Lord’s Table, the Giver reminds us of how much he loves us and what he did to demonstrate that costly love. Though I am privileged to speak at the Table, I must never forget that the True Host is the Lord Jesus Christ. Jesus is truly present and active. At the Table, grace is the air we breathe and forgiveness and life are the gifts we enjoy. Jesus’ invitation is as enduring as his love. “Come, eat this bread and drink this cup in remembrance of Me.”

The Table is more than a Christian history lesson we must not forget. The Table is a place of meeting where authentic love is given and received. The Table is about persons in relationship, just as Milly’s ongoing gift exchanges are about an enduring love between a husband and wife. We ask Milly, “Why do you do this gift exchange?” We don’t expect Milly to say “Well, so I don’t forget Don.” How could she? She does it to experience and enjoy the love that still exists between her and Don. Don is not present, but he is alive. That’s the Christian hope. A wonder of wonders made possible by the body and blood, the bread and cup, of the Lord Jesus Christ.

BE AN ORGAN DONOR

GIVE YOUR HEART TO JESUS

After we rolled our eyes and got over the mental jolt, we asked ourselves what purpose do these signs and sayings serve?  What goes through the minds of unsuspecting people who are far from and miss God? Did Jesus suffer a heart attack with residual damage? Maybe I am too literal, I don’t know, but it seems real bloody to me. If I give my heart to Jesus, then I die. Is that it? What if everybody gives their heart to Jesus? What will he do with all those donated hearts?

We would like to think the saying is cute, but it’s not. It’s pathetic. It is gibberish to those unskilled in evangelingo—my word for insider-speak that requires the secret dictionary.

One of the most aggravating signs is this:

C H  _  _  C H

WHAT’S MISSING?

U R

When we see this one we have an overwhelming feeling to turn into the parking lot, rush into the church crying, “We just don’t want to be missing anymore! God help us!” Do people really think that sign is doing anything at all redemptive? Or, are people who drive by suppose to think, “Why, aren’t they clever? Did you see that? U R. How so very clever.”

Why not some honest church signs:

GOSSIP SPOKEN HERE, or

WE WELCOME EVERYONE,

ESPECIALLY THOSE WHO ARE JUST LIKE US.

I think the words “Jesus Saves” painted on a rock by the highway is still one of the best signs.

Visiting Ukraine like I do, I find that I am so pleased to re-enter the U.S.A. We are a remarkable nation with freedom’s unparalleled in the world. Hearing from my Ukrainian friends what their country was like under communism heightens my appreciation for my own nation. Yet…

Yet, the church grew from 25,000 to 20,000,000 from 100 AD to 310 AD while under harsh Roman Empirial persecution (and without the Constitutional freedoms and communication technologies we have). Also, the church in China from 1934 to the 1970s grew from 2,000,000 to 80,000,000* under the communist rule and oppression of Mao Tse-tung. No “Bill of Rights” for them and all missionaries were kicked out.

In his book The New Evangelicalism : Freeing the Church from Western Cultural Captivity, Soong-Chan Rah makes the sad observation that the white (European-immigrant based) church in the U.S.A. is declining. We have had 233 years of unparalleled freedom and yet the church is dying in the West (the white church). Why is this?

I maintain that when the USAmerican evangelical church became enamored with political clout and sought “to change America” or to use politics “to give America back to God,” we forfeited our truest and deepest freedom for a pathetic, temporal substitute. We became slaves to a political gospel which has no power to change lives. The clarion freedom declarations of Galatians 5:1 and 13-14 were pawned away for Republican votes. We felt we needed senators, not pastors and evangelists; we needed representatives, not prophets and apostles; we needed Supreme Court justices, not teachers and missionaries. Ah, yes, get out and vote! Not, drop to your knees and pray.

Political freedom has cost many, many lives beginning with the Revolutionary War until the current war in Afghanistan. For those who served and now serve, and to those who gave their lives, I am truly grateful. Political freedom is costly. So is eternal freedom. It cost the life of the Son of God. Why we would, as a church, squander our core birthright for a bowl of political stew bothers me. A wise Seminary professor told us years ago, “When the Church plays the game the world’s way, she will lose every time.”

Some of the most vibrant, passionate Christian leaders I know grew up under communism in Ukraine. They knew freedom in Christ, and when political freedom came, they began using their freedoms as a country to placard the Gospel. They view the USAmerican church as a self-absorbed, materialistic church shackled to the American “good life” more than to the liberation purchased for us by Jesus Christ. We in America want the good life, not the God life. This seems harsh until we read that most Barna polls support the sad decline and materialistic values.

You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another in love.

The Christian freedom paradox: We are liberated to be slaves to sacrificial love. Jesus Christ, the most free person to live on this planet, used his freedom to serve and to die. He said, There is no greater love than this, that a person lays down his life for his friends. Free to serve and die.

*statistics from Alan Hirsch, The Forgotten Ways.

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ROTHBURY ROCKS!

Julie and I are going went to Rothbury!

A friend and well-known local musician, Ralston Bowles, is going to be on stage with Bob Dylan. (Actually Ralston was not on stage with Bob Dylan. Ralston was on the same stage as Bob Dylan. My error. Ralston was on at 3:45 pm; Bob Dylan came on at 8:30 pm.)

We heard Toots and the Mayans, The Yonder Mountain String Band, Ralston Bowles, Willie Nelson and band, and Bob Dylan and band.

Ralston recently was diagnosed with cancer, had some operations, and faces intensive cancer therapy. Musician friends of Ralston’s requested that the Rothbury committee allow Ralston to fulfill a life-long dream: to perform with Bob Dylan. It is going to happen.

In my early years as a pastor at Bella Vista Church, Rockford, MI, Ralston would often lead worship. He is a gifted artist, creative musician and captivating singer. Julie and I are thrilled that he is scheduled at Rothbury, Sunday evening.

Rothbury is about an hour north of Grand Rapids and has become a major venue for summer music festivals.

On a more serious note, the Apostle John chains us to some form of imitating Jesus. John wrote, “Whoever claims to live in him [God] must live as Jesus did” (1 John 2:6). “Must” is a powerfully binding word. This verse begs the question: How then did Jesus live? If people claim to live in God must walk (literal Greek verb) as Jesus did, with “walk” as a metaphor for Jesus’ way of life. God’s people are morally bound to live like Jesus did, that is, to imitate Jesus. Certainly Paul the Apostle knew this because he exhorts Christians to imitate him as he lives a way of life in Christ Jesus (1 Corinthians 4:16-17).

The missing surprise in this challenge is that Jesus first imitated us.  Only as we reflect on Jesus’ imitation of us, do we find a clearer way into the imitation of Jesus. Paul celebrates in worship Jesus’ imitation of us as he draws upon an early church hymn (Philippians 2:6-11). Christ Who was (and always is) equal with God voluntarily made himself nothing by becoming a human being and living as a servant among us. I think that Gerald Hawthorne is onto something as he takes the clause “being in very nature God” not as concessive–”…although he was in very nature God…, he made himself nothing…,”  but  as causal–”…because he  was  in very  nature God…, he made himself nothing… .” We have the kind of majestic, sovereign God Who is willing to serve (and die for) others, even the likes of us.

Jesus the Christ was and is the second Person of the Trinity in human form. Jesus imitates us. He shows us the way God would live a human life. He eats, sleeps, spits, speaks, cries, touches, but most of all serves. “I am among you as one who serves.” Most of all serves. While acknowledging the bursts of supernatural ability in Jesus’ life (which Jesus himself attributes to the Father and to the Spirit), we hear him define himself and see him live (and die) as a servant. Once again, he dies as the Suffering Servant of Isaiah, something none of us will ever be able to imitate. Yet, we are called to lay our lives down for others as he laid down his life for us (1 John 3:16).

Being like Jesus doesn’t make us more divine (something we will never be), but more and truly human. When we set out in the power of the Spirit to be like Jesus, we become immersed in and saturated with authentic, God-designed humanity. God imitated us so we could find our way back to the humanity we forfeited in the primal rebellion.

We can step out onto the surface of the water in the swimming pool in the hopes to be like Jesus. Or, we can be constantly on the prowl to serve others. If we did the first, we would be God-like. If we do the second, we will be Jesus-the-true-human-being-like.

There would be no Francis of Assisi without Pica Bourlemont; no Martin Luther without Margarethe Ludher; no John and Charles Wesley without Susanna. Hey, there wouldn’t be a you without a mother somewhere.

It is sad that a persistent view of women’s essential inferiority exists in the church under the guise of good exegetical studies. Those who hold such a view adamantly deny that they view women as “inferior.” No, they insist, we simply believe “equal in essence, but unequal in role/function.” What makes a woman, then, disqualified for the role? Her essential maleness? No, that’s silly. What disqualifies her is her essential femaleness. She is too inferior to be an elder, a pastor, a teacher over men. Women of equal character, equal gifting and equal abilities with similarly qualified men cannot do what those men do in the persisting view. Why? I ask, why?

Beneath this view is an assault on the Trinity itself. It’s called the eternal subordination of the Son to the Father. Equal. I repeat, equal, but subordinate. Equal, but subordinate. Does something just not compute there? Ah, say those who persist in this heresy, it’s a mystery. No, it’s pure fantasy.

In the seminary setting, avoidance of the dreaded slippery slope took the form of protecting a firm reliance on the inspired Scriptures and holding fast to received evangelical doctrines. In the larger arenas, the slippery slope is usually that ordaining women will lead to ordaining gay people; belief in some expression of evolution will lead to denying the atonement; reading the TNIV will destroy the USAmerican family,and anything emergent or emerging is dangerous to Reformed faith, etc.

Is there a slippery slope? Of course. I think every reader can offer an anecdote of those who have sadly scooted down it. But what bothers me is the fear attached to the dreaded slippery slope. We are liable to start shaping our evangelical beliefs and practices in an atmosphere of fear rather than the vibrant, robust glory of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I don’t think that is it healthy to have as our reference point the dreaded slippery slope. We become stressfully reactionary rather than courageously proactive with the unstoppable Gospel.

“Light has come into darkness and the darkness did NOT overpower the light.”  Do we really believe this? If we paint the dreaded slippery slope the color of darkness, and all we do is protect our fragile evangelical faith from the dreaded slippery slope, then darkness in fact will shape our faith. 

Jesus’ world was blinded by thick, rich religious and political darkness. The last thing Jesus feared was the dreaded slippery slope. A Spirit-empowered Man who can walk on a dark, raging sea does not get antsy about a slope, slippery or not.

Holiness is the most resilient reality in the universe. Why we evangelicals have made it feel like eggshells boggles my mind. Holiness is mighty, unbreakable cables, not flimsy spider web strands. Where are the Calebs of this generation who will shout not “Give me my mountain!” but “Give me a slippery slope and watch me, with the Gospel and the Spirit’s power, turn it into a ladder toward God”?  

I think I’ve got the best eleven seminarians in the school. I think they are poised to engage this world with the resilient truth of the gospel of the kingdom of God.

Anger can be a very destructive emotion. David, after an angry rant against evil-doers in Psalm 139:19-22, pleads with God to search him and test him to see if the evil was infecting him. Anger has a way of revealing that evil isn’t just “out there,” but “in here”–right in our own hearts.

Lament is God’s gift to lead God’s people from anger to grief. Grief is anger transformed into a tremendous energy for hope-making and hope-bringing. Anger can easily mutate into a “poor me,” victimization mentality that wants revenge, not justice. Had Habakkuk become merely and only angry, we would not have the laments in the form of “woes” in chapter 2. Nor would we have the breath-taking, beautiful poetry/psalm of chapter 3.

A lot of anger seems to drive American evangelicalism. Anger at the culture. We gear up for the “culture war.”  Do you like that term? War. We want to win the culture war. What happen to win the culture to Christ by godly and gentle living? We are not motivated by grief.

We don’t know how to lament. In our anger (and fear), we only know how to fight.

So sad.

Children and victims of the Forced Famine 1932-33

I don’t understand the reluctance of the Western world to come strongly to the defense, support and well-being of Ukraine. Ukraine’s history is second to none in terms of living under harsh political oppression. Ukrainians generally are peace-loving and seek to pose no threat in their region. Western allies and NATO, in my opinion, are flaccid in offering strong defense of Ukraine’s interest. Somebody needs to tell Putin and Russia in no uncertain terms, “Keep your greedy, oppressive eyes and armies off Ukraine.”

On my last visit I wandered the area of a new memorial in Kiev to mark the deaths of millions of Ukrainians by a forced famine planned and ruthlessly executed by Josef Stalin in 1932-33. Ukrainian peasants produced tons of grain and these farmers were required to ship it to Russia so the Russians could eat. In the midst of this agricultural bounty, innocent, hard-working Ukrainian farmers and families starved to death. Pure evil in genocide form.

The statue shows the young girl holding six stems of grain. It was illegal at the time to personally possess this much “food” if you were a Ukrainian. You could be arrested and shot. In the background of the picture on the right is the memorial proper. Lying around the area are huge millstones, symbolizing the hard work to produce so much grain.

That another “government” would purposely destroy the very ones supplying them food to live is beyond evil. It is irrational. Evil is irrational.

I love the Ukrainian evangelical church, especially the believing communities who came into being since the Independence of 1991. The leaders and people of these churches are courageous, creative and compassionate. When they find their voice to speak to the world, the global church will be deeply enriched.

Stop. Pray for Ukraine.