CHURCH ON THE HOIST Two Churches Together Seeking More of Christ Doug Blair, C. 2012 Waterloo, Canada
A VOICE FOR HIM
I am troubled Lord By what you would Have me announce. It is jarring, Sobering, Quite unlike former News of encouragement, Edification, comfort. Often I have visited Your Body With thrilling Words of destiny, Agenda, untapped potential, Giving the faithful Glimpses of The ‘greater things that They might do’ Because You have gone Unto the Father. Harvest, Healing, Reconciliation, Prosperous venture. 1
Many platforms. But now I see Straightenings, reproach, Desertions, A little flock And I tremble. Is this moment your Time to show The assemblies That without You They can do nothing? To weep at The World taken in? To repent again With wiser eyes, Multiplied scars? From self-assurance Which years back Had evicted Pure, holy, Precious, child-like Beggar’s faith From their midst? Submission to Sovereignty? Compassion for the unlovely? Worship without shopping lists? Will this be the time For serious harvest? In a dark and perverse Generation? Without honest answers. May we find again Your Sabbath? (Isaiah 58) And delight in And through You? Only?
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WHO ARE THE PRIESTS NOW? Christ gave up the ghost. The thick veil in the Temple at Jerusalem split from top to bottom. In real terms the Mosaic economy had finished its course. The succession of high priests was ended. The beasts for sacrifice, no longer required. One blood-letting would now have eternal focus. One High Priest, eternal office. And believers were enabled to approach holy functions and places standing in the righteousness of their Saviour. This is the New Covenant. We are told in the Letter to the Hebrews that we may now come boldly to the throne of grace that we might receive help. We are told in Peter's First Letter that we have been raised to "a holy priesthood to offer up spiritual sacrifices" (chapter 2:5). But might any veils still stand in the way of our service? How might we caution ourselves? Beware of the following: 1. Persisting in known sin. (Psalm 66:18) 2. Unforgiveness. (Mark 11:24-26) 3. Prayerlessness. (Mark 14:38) 4. Condemnation unchecked from Satan. (1 John 1:8,9) 5. Idols of distraction. (1 John 2: 15-17) 6. Shyness and Fear of Man. 7. False humility. 8. Tempting praise. (Luke 17:10) 9. Lack of Bible foundation. (1 Timothy 4:16) 10. Making a "pope" out of any man. (Psalm 118:8,9) 11. Lack of rest. 12. Lack of meditation in quiet. 13. Church barricades to the five-fold. (Ephesians 4:11-13) 14. Backward looking sentimentality. (Luke 9:62) 15. Judgmental spirit. 16. Comfort seeking. I guess it just boils down to how much you desire to conform your will and ways to God's. How much you perceive yourself as the purchased possession of Jesus, and as His ambassador with dynamic delegated power. At any moment a large door may open. 3
Look again to Psalm 37. If you resolve to "delight yourself in the Lord", seeking His agenda, you will discover that you receive increasingly "the desires of your heart" (the desires of your Lord's heart). The potential of such ready volunteers is awesome. They are the ones who have been given "the keys of the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 16:19). In the Lord's name they may "loose" revelation, forgiveness, healing, fresh confidence, agendas of help, ministry commissions, praises and supplications which will move Heaven. They may also "bind" dark practices, temptations, strife, spiritual attack, sickness, thick-headedness, condemnation or despair. What a tremendous privilege we have as day-to-day priests of our God through Christ! Admittedly we still need pastors and mentors for clear direction, interpretation, confession, prayer agreement and a mature sounding-board. But we must not abdicate from evident openings for ministry. We must be bold when the Spirit urges (but not when our fleshly ambition prods). Christ uses believers (Mark 16:15-18). Not just men and women with certificates on the wall. When, oh when will our churches discover this? Unlocking the treasure of the priesthood of believers. And it is for the community at large. Not just in-house.
A MOST NEEDFUL MESSAGE
Keith approached the pulpit, looked at all the familiar faces and gulped: "Brothers and sisters, I was moved profoundly by something which I read last night about the priesthood of all believers. I am going to speak now from the heart. I love you. I want to see Jesus glorified in you. You will probably be upset by the following, but I am not deterred. A comfort has set in around here. A luke-warmness. A busy-ness without fruit. I see faces repeatedly which seem to say 'Pastor, pray for me. Pastor teach me what I must know. Pastor affirm me and reassure that I am in the heavenly flock. Pastor show me 4
what I must really know from John's Gospel, or Romans, or Daniel, or Proverbs, or Revelation. Smooth out all the knotty points. Pastor win souls for me. Pastor bring in God's presence for me.' I can entertain this sort of thing no longer. I assure you that things are going to change. A coach demonstrates strategies, conducts fitness drills and then lets the team go out on the field... AND PLAY! I am going to release you to play ball. Basic Bible study. Yours. Regular use of concordance, dictionary, commentary. Yours. Extended study hours in our Church Library. Yours. Regular burdened corporate prayer in the services. Yours. Regular testimonies of challenge and victory in our gatherings. Yours. Exercise of spiritual gifts for the edification of the Body. Yours. Regular efforts to invite the unchurched to more relaxed gatherings. Yours. Street witness teams on an ongoing basis. Yours. The training of such witnesses. Yours. The mentoring of new believers. Yours. So, lovingly, I repeat that things are going to change. Expect now to see in me more of the coach or conductor, and less of the surrogate. You are going to become increasingly a conditioned force for righteousness, comfort and truth in this community. Henceforth we will leave many of the other programs to the theatres, restaurants, gymnasiums and social clubs which abound. We are going to make the Body of Christ a vital issue which offers help and hope. We are going to make our Master smile. God help us."
TO HIM THAT BELIEVETH
The note read briefly, "Pastor Keith, may I see you in your study for a few moments at 5:00 P.M. on Monday? Bruce Benton" It had been given to Keith by staff on Monday morning. Dropped into Sunday's collection plate. Keith had spent a most painful twenty-four hours since his rebuke from the pulpit. Imagine, calling out luke-warmness; the crippling routine; denouncing many programs; turning a good forty percent of his responsibilities back over to the congregation. Wow! Had he heard God accurately on all of this? But he had not been able to get an image out of his thoughts. It was in Mark's Gospel. Jesus coming into Jerusalem on the Monday morning of Passion Week. Hungry, and seeing a fig tree in His path. Although this tree showed leaves, it bore no fruit. To the 5
surprise of His disciples Jesus cursed the tree. Later that same day he whipped the sellers and money-changers out of the temple. Two seemingly destructive acts ...by Jesus. Keith had examined the church for days in light of this image. Throughout the day, Keith had imagined many troubling scenes. His associate pastor asking if he had really meant all of that. Fred and Sarah, co-chairs of the Board of Elders, meeting him with pained looks after their many hours of organization and stirring up the people. Martin, the Missions chair, reminding him of the big cheque recently sent to field workers at the school in Kenya. Harvey the Pre-teen Sunday School Superintendent coming in for another Saturday afternoon of preparation, laden down with children's magazines, videos and felt-board figures. His own wife shaking her head at his discounting of his own tireless service to date. He was, in a word...miserable. And it was ten minutes until Bruce's hastily called visit. But here is what Keith did not know. Bruce had been with the church some eighteen months. A corporate accountant transferred from Mississauga. His wife, Karen, once an elementary school teacher, had been staying at home recently for the benefit of eight year-old daughter Martha and four year-old Brendon. The couple were still sensing something missing in the oft-repeated term "church family". They had attended programs, received smiles and small-talk and offered some efforts in last year's Easter Pageant. But they were dissatisfied with the lack of real engagement with other parishioners, the lack of transparency, the handicap to real burdened prayer one for the other, the low-bar messages of basic redemption time and again from the pulpit, the evident spiritual gifts in the pews lying dormant, while staff did it all and grew weary. After much consideration and talk, Bruce and Karen had decided to leave the fellowship, and Bruce felt strongly that he should give an account. But then Keith had dropped the bomb on Sunday in his remarks. That sounded like real church, real growth, real forward movement into Christian maturity, real burden bearing, real evangelism, real service in-house and at large. Could the people be ignited in this fashion? A desperate call indeed, but a worthy call. The intended ten minute apology blossomed into an hour's talk between brothers of the faith, stirred with the same vision and hope, zealous for the glory of the same Saviour. Bruce's parting words: "Thanks Keith for all of this. Consider my thoughts. Get back to us...and soon. We really want to help. This thing will work!"
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DOWN GOES THE GAUNTLET
Old George wiped away the tears. It was Tuesday and he had just had a visit from the young pastor. Keith had told him of the surprising challenge which he had been burdened to issue. He was smiling in giving the news and animated. But the old church elder of former days, suffering almost total blindness and general atrophy of the limbs could not take it all in. Keith had left a CD copy of the message, knowing in his heart that George would rejoice at the development. And that he would pray. George remembered eight years ago that whole process of selecting a new pastor. He had been drawn to Keith from the start in a field of six possibles. Other men stood taller; had a more compelling timbre in their voice; had papers from more prestigious Bible colleges. George had felt like the old prophet Samuel, passing by more imposing candidates for the runt of the litter, David. But David had had the key to God's heart. So did Keith. During these last two years George had not been able to leave the Rest Home to attend, but he had gotten reports from various sources and he had taken on the burden in heavy prayer for Keith's constancy. George was aware of some of the more imposing personalities and their regrettable sense of territory in church program. He had feared that Keith was buckling. That a low common denominator was taking over. In his forty-five years at the fellowship George could remember a wide variety of characters in the pulpit. Some with a sincere malleable shepherd's heart. Some commandants. Some ear ticklers. Some career boys. But then there was Keith. He could still remember Keith's candidacy sermon taken from that haunting prayer at the end of the prophecy of Habakkuk. He had entitled it "Yes, this is true religion." The one where the prophet had said 'although the trees and crops fail and the livestock go missing, yet I will rejoice in the Lord.' This was a matter of loving God for God's sake, and not for His trinkets. George had loved the young preacher for the purity of his spirit and the loyalty of his message. The selection vote had been close, but it is possible that George's input had won the day. The two had enjoyed a special bond over the years. Each on an occasion had had to correct the other on an issue of serious importance to the church. But brotherhood and mutual respect had never wavered. 7
And now this young man was telling the assembly to 'move on, grow up, wean themselves, take risks for the thrill of new revelation and new opportunity, open up one to the other, and then come together in agreement to take blessing and truth outside the church walls'. George was hugging himself in the wheelchair at the prospect of all of this. His prayers were being answered. For the moment there was nothing as adequate in the way of praise and thanksgiving as "the tongues": "Parabba do manni forrah sic bianti pas kemmi soodah." And then laughter. Rich, full and in the tone of a much younger man (1 Peter 1:8). The one nurse at the station down the hall turned to her colleague and remarked, "Oh there goes old George again in that odd language of his. Wonder what it could all mean? Too bad when they get like this." Note: The story is told of Father Nash who would travel to each crusade town and travail for days for the anointing and fruitfulness of Charles Finney's preaching. The astounding results are history.
HOW WILL THE HOME FARE?
Keith closed the garage door and skipped up the back steps. He wondered if this might be an awkward dinner. He had almost forgotten the milk and margarine on the way home. Coat on the hook. Wash up at the back sink. A near stumble over Michael's tricycle. The kids already seated at the dinner table. Beth coming over from the counter to give him a peck on the cheek. "Sorry I'm a bit late guys. I had a great visit with George Cromarty." Ten year-old Becky's eyes strayed toward Mom in a knowing sort of way and then smiled up at Dad. Little Mike pushed across the table the crayon sketch which he had just completed: "That's the bush leading to the trout pond Dad. Remember? And the cardinal way up in that tree. And me on the dock with two good ones already in our basket." Keith took a long look at the art and then brushed his son at the back of the head. "Good, Son, a really good picture. I think it gets the tack board for at least a week. Of 8
course, your next one will probably be better." Keith sensed Beth's unspoken comment: 'Would you please say grace? Things are getting cold.' Hands joined in a circle. "Father, thank you for this good day, and our home, and our safety, and this good food prepared as You have provided it. Thank you for our kids who are growing so well. Thank you that you have instilled in Beth's heart and in mine this vision for the maturing and usefulness of our Church and for the joy and blessing of the people, our friends. May they share gladly in our hopes. This is a big assignment. You are a big God. Keep us from fear and from going ahead of what you have laid out. In Jesus name, Amen." He felt his wife's hand give an extra squeeze, and then she sighed heavily. Then it was Becky's turn with news about the field trip planned at school for the Friday two weeks away... And down from a glowing spring evening sky, over the backyard, through the kitchen window and onto the busy table streamed shafts of light of Grace.
WORKING MEETING
Wednesday. Mid-week evening service. The damp weather hadn't helped but there was a presentable gathering. Several new faces. Keith had seated himself in one of the mid pews and was chatting with those nearby. The tone was casual. Right on time Keith went half-way down the centre aisle and opened his Bible. He read from John 13. The gathering in the Upper Room. The meal. The sudden rising of Jesus and disrobing. The basin of water. The washing of friends' feet. The hesitation of Peter. The Lord's rebuke, and his question, "Know ye what I have done to you?" Finally the admonition in verse 17, "If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them." Then he stopped and prayed simply, "Lord take us now where you want us to go." A 9
pause of fifteen seconds. "Friends would you simply get up and accompany us to the All-Purpose Room downstairs." A surprised comment or two and the shuffle of numerous feet out the rear doors. Beth and Bruce and Karen and two other couples were already downstairs in the side kitchen. The pizzas were hot. The responding laughter was enthusiastic. Beth spoke next, "Every working meeting goes better with pizza. Seat yourselves as you wish in groups of six or so." As the people chatted for the next fifteen minutes, pencils and paper were distributed. Finally Keith piped up although he did not leave his chair. "OK, we have heard the Lord's challenge. The pizza is gone. The paper is in your hands. How are we going to start "foot washing" around here? What to resolve? What to record? What to change in our gatherings? In comments or ministry from the floor? In visitation and outreach? Most of you heard what I said on Sunday. Tell me what sounds good...bad...workable. Let's take the next half hour in our table groups and get into this, and then report. I will take away and consider all of the notes submitted. I do not intend to be hurt by any of this, only guided. Now I want to get to work with my own table." "Oh, and by the way, next Wednesday we will have here in this room real basins of water and towels. The servant is not above his Lord." The process had begun...at Mid-week.
KEEP ON ROWIN’
Thursday morning 9:15. Keith in sweats. Jogging the neighbourhood. Seemingly a new lightness in his step. Down to the Church office in a lather. Samantha would be there already. Book entry day. Check up on correspondence. Messages. Written submissions from the night before. Home to change. Scheduled afternoon visitations, "Mornin' boss." "Good morning, Keith. Here's the paperwork. Phone message also from Todd 10
Bushnell." Todd, hmmmm. That was interesting. Big church across town. Same graduating year. Hadn't spoken in about six weeks. Dial him up. Personal cell phone this time. Three rings. "Todd, it's Keith. Got your message. What's up?" "Beef, how are ya? (nickname from college; two men sculling team; long story). Keith, I have heard from one of your people, who shall remain nameless, that you are turning things upside down over there...Now hold on; don't get upset; I am more curious than anything. Talk to me." Keith spent the next five minutes bringing his old friend up to date. The burden. The sermon. The challenge. The parishioners coming out of the bushes with support. The prayers of old George. There were many indicators that God was moving behind all of this. "Beef, I may have been made party to some complaints, but I am with you on this. Discipleship has become so watered down. The community remains largely untouched. Sure, I have some of the big numbers now. Studied some of those denominational church growth packages. Put in a few bells and whistles. But I tell you, I am tired and I am not seeing the kind of zeal and honesty that Calvary deserves. I see activity, lots of program and seeming happiness, but little reverence, expectation or compassion. When particularly drained, I have had talks with Suzie about giving it up for something else. But you friend, have picked me up and washed my feet. Washed my feet. Keep me informed, will ya? We'll be praying. I'll phone later for some Saturday morning together. We need that. Keep on rowin'.
WHAT THOSE STRAINED EYES STILL SEE
Thursday. Just after lunch. George Cromarty had navigated his chair on auto-drive down to the sun room. The warmth felt good. 11
His nephew Stewart was waiting for him there, just like clockwork. Every second Thursday. "Hi Stu. Glad you could make it. How was traffic across town? "Pretty much the same, old fellow. Krista sends her love. Wants you to know we will be up Sunday afternoon with something special. Pie. You already know the flavour." "How is she keeping, Son? You know, the fibromyalgia?" "It seems to be a little better with this spring. Doctor has some new twists with the treatment. But really, how little they know about this one. We pray, as always. We are thankful right now for the relief." "I know Stu. Give her a kiss from me, will you? Until Sunday. Now I have the book. Same one as last time. A real personal favourite. Go to page 65. Dear old Rutherford. Transformed to poetry by Faith Cook. I have read it and re-read it for decades." The selection was entitled An Absent Christ Who can discern Christ's secret ways, For with love's chain He fettered me Then ran away and left my soul To mourn in sweet captivity? I dare not call my Saviour harsh, Though He may come and go at will, Feed me with love, then clear the board And leave my soul a-hungering still. My tide is low, my sea is out When my Beloved goes away; Yet still I clamour at His door Nor give Him rest by night or day. In Christ's kind hand I place my need Whose bounty is my sole supply; For my best riches are those wants That Christ Himself must satisfy. (To Lady Culross, Aberdeen, 1637, Letter 222) 12
FEEDING ONE’S EARS
"Dad, are you going away some place in a sports car?" "Why do you ask that, Mike?" "Well Mom said that you were leaving us on a Fast for today and Saturday." It was hard for Keith to suppress the roar at the kitchen table. This five year-old could be such a hoot! "No Son a fast is something you do with God, not something that takes you on a trip. "So what are you gonna do?" "Well I am going to my Church study. Closing the door. Sitting down in the big chair in the corner. Opening my Bible. Telling God how much I love Him. And listening. No food. No messages. No visitors. Probably little done at home either." "Why would you do that? You like Mom's cooking, don't you?" "Of course, but this time it is important that I feed my ears. Not my stomach. My hobbies. My reading. My television. My jogging. My sermon preparation. My friends' invitations. Even my time with you guys and Mom. I am telling God that in the midst of something important I only want to deal with him, and hear what He wants me to do, and when." "Well what's so important?" "This is a very special time at the Church. Jesus wants people to get closer to Him, love Him more deeply and help others more frequently. They don't need to hear from me what I think; rather what God thinks. You probably don't remember, but when you were very young and disturbed about something, you liked to crawl up into my lap on the rocking chair and nestle close to my chest, staying still and hearing my heartbeat. Ka-thump, ka-thump. That's what I'm going to do for two days, just like a kid...with God." "So you're going to feed your ears...still sounds to me like you're going to travel to 13
some place different on a Fast." "OK Son, you win."
NEW HOME FOR FISH
Beth could see that young Michael was in a frump. It was Saturday morning. He was playing with his waffle in the pool of syrup. His sister had gone over to a girlfriend's to work on a project for school. His Dad had left early for the Church. That Fast again. "Mike, let's hop in the car and go down to the market. I have a surprise." ....The pet shop had been busy, and the five-year old was all eyes. Colourful birds. One that talked! A couple of sleepy puppies. Lizards that you could hardly make out on the dried sticks of wood on the gravel. And lots of fish of all colours. It had been a difficult decision as to which goldfish, but finally they were back in the car-bagged fish, food, dip-net, large glass bowl, special gravel and a little ceramic sunken ship. Home in the kitchen Beth had already set out a bowl of water to attain room temperature. She gently poured the new family member out of the bag and into the bowl. The little guy froze for a moment in his new surroundings and then began to swim around cautiously. Mother and son proceeded to warm rinse the new aquarium, lay in the gravel and ship model and half-fill the bowl with tap water. "Do you think he'll like his new home, Mom?" "Yeah, I think so, but it would probably be nice in a couple of weeks to get him a friend. Isn't he pretty with that brilliant orange and two black saddles by the back fin?" "What should the next one be, d'ya think...black?" Twenty minutes later and a warmer fish tank. "The idea here Mike is gently to approach him with the net, lay it below him and raise him out of the bowl. Carefully 14
carry him to his new home and lower him down and in. Don't drop him from a height." The little angler, biting his tongue, did as instructed. The fish flopped in a panic in the dripping net. For a few seconds Mike observed this struggle mid-air and registered a look of puzzlement. "Why does he do that Mom? I don't want to hurt him. He looked like he was afraid for his life. But he's going into a nice new place. Bigger, brighter, good food, clean water and a new friend soon. I guess he just doesn't know what we know, eh?" Beth thought of her husband down at the Church in prayer, focusing on changes which were coming for the fellowship, and the inevitable struggle in the process. She chuckled at the spontaneity of her little preacher. Then, speaking quietly to herself, "So often we are in that dip-net."
KEITH’S QUESTIONS CROP UP
Time to stop in the tale of Pastor Keith and his desire to see more grass-roots participation in the church. All of the articles (posts)are contained under the "Surgeons Cut" label, and could be printed out in hard copy as a working paper. (Start at the bottom of the run with A Voice for Him) There is no simple fix for the problems of stultifying routine and over-dependence upon professional ministry. One cannot point-by-point lay out a format to force increased spiritual zeal and sincerity. Service and evangelistic opportunities will be different in each community. The momentum achieved in "theatrical" worship will be hard to reverse for something more participatory. Words from the floor have their place. Trust will have to be developed before testimony fulfills its powerful purpose in a gathering. Believers are personally responsible for moving beyond the basics in their understanding of God's Word, and the Gospel in particular. Bible study helps abound. Corporate prayer should be developed, and program announcements minimized. Worship time is precious. The rush of service number two at the heels of service number one is dampening. But perhaps I can help in tendering the following comments: 15
1. God loves to be sought out. 2. God loves to touch the broken and contrite spirit. (Psalm 34) 3. God loves intercession. 4. God loves the five-fold ministry. 5. God loves families. 6. God loves the child-like spirit. 7. God loves His appointed day of rest to be simplified. (Isaiah 58) 8. God would rather hear from a wounded one than a learned one. 9. God loves to be thanked. (Psalm 107) 10. Sing. The day is coming when God will rejoice over us with singing. (Zephaniah 3) It has not been my intention to cast comment on any particular assembly in our little story; rather it is a blend of numerous observations from numerous places. Perhaps some day I will take a crack at a conclusion in the story of Keith and his shepherding, his church and his family. But then at the finish we have only really just begun...
ALMOST HOME
A Wednesday afternoon. Keith ran the stairs two at a time to the fourth floor. He knew the service door push-button combination. No time for the elevator. Stewart and Krista were already there and Nurse Katie, senior woman in George Cromarty's wing. There was evidence that the Doctor had just left. "Hi guys, when did it happen?" Stewart turned slowly from his uncle, "About 9:45. Katie was the first one to know." The nurse put her hand on Keith's shoulder. "He had had a good breakfast. Shared some laughter with one of the newer residents. A volunteer wheeled him back and all seemed OK. I got a ring at the desk an hour later. He was all smiles. Told me that we hadn't had our mid-week "chin-wag". Told me a bit about what is going on at the Church, Keith. Then he reached over to the side table for his Bible and handed it to me. Asked me to open it where the paper clip was, and to start reading at the 6th verse through the 16
19th. There, Stewart the Book is right beside you. It was Psalm 34, I think. 'Scuse me, I'm not quite up on these things any more. The stroke musta' been within the half hour after I left." Stewart took the Bible, faced his uncle again, tried to focus on the one moist eye still where it was supposed to be, and read to the silent Scot: 6This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles. 7The angel of the LORD encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them. 8O taste and see that the LORD is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him. 9O fear the LORD, ye his saints: for there is no want to them that fear him. 10The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger: but they that seek the LORD shall not want any good thing. 11Come, ye children, hearken unto me: I will teach you the fear of the LORD. 12What man is he that desireth life, and loveth many days, that he may see good? 13Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile. 14Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it. 15The eyes of the LORD are upon the righteous, and his ears are open unto their cry. 16The face of the LORD is against them that do evil, to cut off the remembrance of them from the earth. 17The righteous cry, and the LORD heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles. 18The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit. 19Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivereth him out of them all. Krista was holding George's good hand. He slowly withdrew it and displayed his first two fingers. Krista looked puzzled, "Two, the number two. Do you want us to continue with the second Psalm George?" 17
A queer acknowledging smile was made by the good side of the face. Things continued in this fashion for another ten minutes and then the old boy's eyes closed in sleep, one at a time. Others in the room huddled closer, and hugged silently. Katie had remained throughout like a loving sentinel. No one had called for her over the P.A.
STEP IN, GOD Godlessness recoiling Strikes again the blow. Jesus’ name is slandered. Lord, that they might know. (He is all the glory. He is all the praise. He is all the answer, For these restless days.) Fear of God is lacking. Love of Christ is rare. Churches hide their candle. Do they really care? “Men are all-sufficient;” So the journals sing. (Why need we a “saviour”? Strange, out-dated thing.) Still the candle flickers, Touching one by one, Hearts that seek for better, Hearts that hear the Son. Stop the superficial! Stop the sad parade! 18
There is not a blessing, But that God has made! He will soon take action, Laying bare men’s games. Burning through the districts With revival’s flames! Then Christ gets the glory. Then the ransomed sing. Then awakened folk see God in everything. Lord, please send revival! Send once more the rain! Holy, happy wonders In our midst again.
NOW JUST SETTLE DOWN!
I listen to you as you engage with friends and family. All the things you would like to see my Church doing. All the error you have identified. All the side eddies of teaching topics which miss the major thrust of my Good News. You say that you are weary of dishonest "positive confession", of spiritual pride, of a competitive spirit in the flock, of the lust for "new revelation". You observe "worship sessions" which are ruled by the clock or by an order of service which is man-contrived, and not looking in the least for the Spirit's leading. You chafe at Christ-less sermons. There is much talk of service but the unchurched, needy or broken do not become the focus of your little church family...ever. Do you think that I will use you in this "tizzy" of criticism and restlessness? Where is my peace and unconditional love? Remember my prayer outside the Upper Room for the disciples? How I recognized the victory that would be their's, with the Father's 19
help, even when they had yet to turn from me and run and fail miserably. I am telling you that I wait for the longsuffering to show forth. Abide in me. Meditate on my earth walk. Stop your speaking out against shallowness or controversy. Be eloquent in intercession. That is purposeful. Gain my stride. Watch for surprising opportunities for ministry which I will release. Not one of them will be small in my estimation. Do not go forward in the flesh. I love you too and will see you bear fruit. Be available but do not be in a lather.
ALL THINGS WORK TOGETHER
Todd Bushnell got up from the table to give Keith a big hug. Through their secretaries they had arranged lunch at Ennios, their favourite pasta place. Todd had only heard vaguely about the accident. "Beef, good to seeya. Grab a chair and tell me what's going on with Beth?" Before they could get started a waitress appeared and they put in their orders for Caesar salad and the house favourite spagghetini with meat sauce. "Beth was driving to Guelph with two other women day before yesterday for a Women's Aglow luncheon at one of the hotels. It had been drizzling all morning and the road was really slick. Suddenly an oncoming motorcycle lost its hold and skidded on its side right toward Beth. In her efffort to avoid collision she put the car down into a steep ditch. Almost flipped it over. Everybody was thrown about inside the vehicle. Her two friends managed to get up and out. Only cuts and bruises. Beth was in too much pain to be moved. They phoned for police and checked over the cyclist. Apparently he broke his one leg pinned under the bike in the slide. Another motorist, a carpenter in a pick-up, stopped to help." "And what's the story with your wife now? Where is she?" "Paramedics ascertained that she had broken her collar bone and upper left arm. Also shoulder complications. Took her to Grand River Hospital where things were set, 20
only to discover that there was some unusual nerve damage. Decision was made to ship her to Hamilton hospital for some specialist's assessment and treatment. The kids are staying with their Gramma." "So I guess you will be motoring down to Hamilton frequently over the next few days. What about Sunday at the Church?" "Ted Brandon has agreed to give a message. He is one of our senior board members. Initially he was really ticked off with my ultimatum from the pulpit three weeks ago. But he has turned around, and is about to start a mid-week discussion group for students from the college. Looks quite promising. Will be part of the new outreach push which we have envisioned." "Yeah, Beef, that's one of the main reasons why I suggested this lunch. I have proposed to my associate Craig Randall that he make himself available for Sundays and mid-week over the next three weeks at your place. He seems keen and has shared my curiosity as to your new scheme of things. He really enjoyed that joint men's breakfast which we held about four months ago. Made a couple of new friends. It's good for him in this first year of transition from Winnipeg...So, whatdya say?" Sounds like a good idea Todd for two Sundays following this one, and perhaps for some office time on say, Thursdays. But I would really like to leave mid-week with my people. Mustn't give the impression that it is time again to run to the professionals in order to hold the place together. It is their community of faith. Through this moderate inconvenience it is my hope that they will take hold of the reins and grow. As you will recall I made it quite clear that I am no longer the "canal horse". I will try for Tuesdays in the office and some visitations." "So you won't say that God caused the accident, but you know that He is going to use it?" "Yep...Ah, the salads. Here we go. I'm starved. Bachelor food is lousy."
ALL STIFF IN STARCHED SHEETS
Beth awoke with a yelp. What a horrible nightmare! She longed to reach over to Keith for a comforting hug. But no, she was in a hospital, remember? 21
The doctor had told her that the recent trauma might produce some crazy things in the sub-conscious. Not to mention the drugs for pain. She felt that she must present an odd picture. Upper body casts. Unsightly purple bruise on the left temple. Stitches at the eyebrow. The young woman in the bed opposite had been trying to hide the fact that she was staring. From what Beth had gleaned, Crissy was in for a broken hip from a fall from a second story balcony. Standing on a chair to water some plants. Lost her balance, or so the official story went. Beth suspected that there was some other real scenario. "Must have had a bad one, eh?" Crissy looked genuinely concerned, but conversation had been strained. In the two days of Beth's treatment thus far Crissy had had only one visitor, a boyfriend named Steve. He had brought her up-to-date on his employment search. Presumably they shared the apartment and things were strained financially. Her parents were out of province and had phoned twice offering small comfort. "Yes Crissy I don't usually have nightmares. This one was a doozy. Lost and alone in a strange community. People suspecting that I had done something terribly wrong. Nightfall setting in. The rest is kinda fuzzy." "Nurse popped in about twenty minutes ago with those flowers on your table." They were a beautiful surprise. The card was from Bruce and Karen Benton. For some reason she opted to read it aloud: "Hang in there Girl. We are so thankful that you were spared any greater danger. Pretty sore now though, right?" A scripture portion had also been included: When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior; 22
Crissy did not respond to that, but looked down at the movie magazine in her lap. Thirty seconds later: "What's it like...being a preacher's wife I mean?" "Oh it's not so very different. Two kids. School. Shopping. In-laws. House work. A lot of phone calls for my husband from people I hardly know. Two weeks' holidays in the summer. We like to camp. Endless laundry. Women and kids needing a friend to talk to or to pray. And some of the wildest ideas right out of the blue in my conversations with Keith. New ways formulated to express rich timeless truths. In short. I love it. I love him, and I love God for His constant goodness. Every now and then we feel that we make a difference." "That all doesn't sound too unusual. My parents were Catholic. Gradually slipped right out of the routine. My boyfriend thinks the churches are all about getting your money." "Perhaps he'd be interested in a place like ours. We are presently finding ways to turn things back over to the people. That they might have the joy of discovery, of testifying, of helping in simple ways. Sometimes, though, it feels as if we are going one step at a time through the darkness." "Really? A preacher and his wife who don't have all the answers. I kinda like that."
DON’T BRING A THING
The week had flown by for Craig Randall. People at Keith's church had greeted him warmly on the morning Ted Brandon spoke. He had given simple exhortation to press on offering kind words, everyday help, a ready smile and willingness to listen. All in the name of Christ. The message was entitled "Apply the Salt". Now it was Craig's turn and he felt strangely confident before his newfound friends: "So it's settled," the hostess said. "We'll see you guys at 6:30 on Saturday. Everything will be ready. Don't bring a thing. Just your appetites. We look forward to a really good evening together." Perhaps you have had such a conversation, and then on the way over stopped for 23
flowers, some drinks or an interesting treat to take along. Just common etiquette isn't it? Or is it that you don't want to be beholding to another? I have been studying one of Jesus' more forceful parables - the wedding feast in Matthew 22. A prince is to be married, and extensive invitations have gone out. Surprisingly, the majority of the invitees offered feeble excuses to stay away. This provoked the host, the King, to send messengers into remote places, to encourage as many as would come, good and bad, to attend. He was fixing to have a good celebration and to be unrestrained in his generosity. Obviously those listening to Jesus' story got the impression that the disinterested first group were the organized Jews of that day. The second group simply said "yes" and came. Such is grace. "Come. All is provided. My Son deserves an uninhibited, eager response." But there was also disturbing news. One of the guests had refused to don the wedding garment as was customarily offered by the host. Certainly his own apparel was good enough, and it had served him well on other occasions. But the prince's wedding required the prescribed garments and the man's stubborn refusal was immediately noticed by the King. "Remove such an insolent and unappreciative one to a place of darkness and weeping!" The old Scottish preachers were quick to chastise wilful members of their flock: "You are too stubborn to trust in the righteousness of another. To don His robe as your own. You must do your little bit, as pathetic and pointless as it is. You seek to add to the Cross. Stop your foolishness while there is still time. The way of grace is the only way." "I have thought a lot about this parable. We as Christians are constantly reminded that fruit-bearing must come out of our relationship with Christ. Sadly many still see this as a requirement of duty. A weight comes with the consideration of doing good. But the real path of service is forged in love which cannot be suppressed as it pours out almost spontaneously and thankfully. The love response is the ticket to effective Christian living, and not the sense of duty or conformity. So, culture a familiarity with the episodes of Jesus' patience, mercy and strength. Read those Gospels. Get alone enough with Him in prayer. Say your piece briefly, and then wait in respectful silence for His input. It will come. You are developing friendship with the King of Kings. Hearts beat in unison. Watch what happens next..."
24
GETTING DOWN TO THE LIST
Keith had just gotten home from taking the kids out for hamburgs. It was agreed that they would stay three more days with Gramma. She was loving it and in no hurry to see them leave. Tomorrow morning would be the final trip to the Hamilton hospital. Beth was coming home. For the last hour he had been cleaning up some of his "bachelor's mess". Now it was time for rest and reflection in the quiet house. Outside, the threatenings of an approaching thunderstorm. He was reminded of the rainy morning of Beth's accident. He took out from his desk the new "Working File" compiled from parishioners' suggestions for change at the assembly. It contained a wide range of ideas, not all of which would need big time for launching. He reminded himself not to be in a hurry to mess with the good stuff already in operation. A theme had been formulating over the past few days: "He must get the glory. Not us." He had sensed sadly that a number of projects in the past had had a regrettable "yeah for our team" spirit about them. It would no longer be what we were accomplishing "here at Crosspoints Community Church"; rather what was Jesus accomplishing? He almost knew the list now by heart: 1. Consider once a month a single joint service unhurried by the pace or requirements of two Sunday morning services. 2. Consider once a month allowing most of the children to remain with their parents and to participate in all the worship. 3. Launch the discussion group for college students. 4. Designate once a month for a time of testimony from the floor with a "wandering mike". What has God done? How has a piece of scripture become a personal milestone? 5. Gather a group of a dozen or so volunteers to help on a rotating basis at the local Food Bank. 6. Gather a group of six or so volunteers to help the Chaplain at the Hospital with visitation. (Beth had heard a lot about this possibility at Hamilton.) 7. Resist the temptation for summer slow-down in almost all program areas. "Time at 25
the cottage or in travel" should no longer be an excuse for catching the Army of God asleep or otherwise occupied. 8. Re-assign a portion of the Missions budget to general operations at the Downtown House of Friendship for men in transition. 9. Arrange personal visits with those who have submitted Visitors' Cards or other notification. Forget the complimentary gifts. They need to hear from people of faith. Not a hard-sell for membership, but simply an outreach in the spirit of Christ. 10. Sponsor a Christian writing event with different age categories in the winter. Give some of the participants program recognition and publish (modestly) a few of the outstanding pieces. 11. Celebrate Holy Communion more frequently. 12. Involve more parishioners in the reading of scripture from the front. This might even chop into sermon time. 13. Allow more of the members of good standing to deliver messages instead of the Pastor. 14. Conduct workshops on the gifts and operation of the Holy Spirit. 15. Sponsor "pray for one another" evenings at the Church; also "intercede for the Community" evenings or afternoons. 16. Endorse a periodic "Church of the Ages" gathering where members of the Seniors' Bible Study would meet with some of our Young Adults to exchange insights, questions and wonder. This could be a particular delight for the Seniors. 17. Discontinue the visiting Missions work crews and offer instead cash or full-time ambassadors or exchange students to our brothers and sisters abroad. 18. Re-introduce some of our old favoured Hymn Book selections back into the worship mix. Keith had been surprised and encouraged by the quality of the suggestions. Many of them resonated with him and with Beth and other friends invited thus far into the process. Outside the grumblings of thunder had been replaced by a refreshing wind.
MIXING WITH THOSE YOUNG PEOPLE
It was a Tuesday morning and Keith was attempting to return to the customary at the church. Beth was thrilled to be home and to catch the news from Becky and Michael about their time with her Mom. Blanche would be coming over that evening with 26
take-out Chinese. She had to see for herself that Beth was on the mend. Back to the morning jog and over to the office in sweats for messages and final strategy for the day. He was looking forward to being "back in the saddle". All reports were very positive about Craig Randall's interim help. From a phone conversation of Monday evening it was clear that Craig was charged up. No one else in the office. Stack of pink messages. Top one was to call Jerry Caswell, long time buddy of George Cromarty. Three rings and Jerry had it, "Haylo". "Jerry, it's Keith returning your call. What's new?" "Oh. that was pretty quick. Been meaning to congratulate you on your initiative of late. Talked it all over with George...You know, before the stroke. Tell me are you planning semi-retirement?" "Aw come on Jerry, you know me better than that." "Of course I do. But here's what I'm calling about. Betty and I have heard that the ideas coming down the pipe include some sort of joint gathering involving seniors and young folks. That one really catches our fancy, and I will tell you why. About eight years ago we had a wonderful trip to Britain. Three weeks. Rented car. All up and down the island. Never forget it. We made it to Windsor with two days to spare before flying out of Heathrow. Spent an evening in a traditional pub-dining room. Spirits were up. Place was full. Over in one secluded little corner table, gas lamp above, we saw an unusual duo. A college student was enjoying a pint with a man in his upper seventies. Their conversation was free and fascinating. Obviously topics were coming up which found mutual interest, as the insights of the generations were being shared. The youth clearly had opportunities to hook up with some of his buddies, but did not budge. I remember commenting to Betty that the sight was a rare one as far as our culture was concerned. How sad. How much wisdom to be passed on, mutual understanding and respect to be gained. Energy and enthusiasm to be absorbed from the young ones. Rather than drawing up walls of distrust or frustration. Being more alone and seemingly out of it. Keith, if it's alright with you, please count the two of us in for contribution, ideas and time in this thing you're calling "Church of the Ages". We like the sound of it very 27
much. Was up to see George. Day before yesterday. Quite a kicker isn't it? No speech. One side all twisted up. But still, he managed a few smiles and kept things going, albeit slowly, with pen and paper. Love to find a way to get him face to face with some of these young people. So many of us could benefit. Thanks for calling back. ...And by the way, I know that retirement is far from your mind these days. Blessings to Beth."
CATARACT FLOWING EXTEMPORE
It turned out that Craig Randall was expected to take the first Sunday service following his visit with Crosspoint Community Church. Todd and Suzie Bushnell had long planned a holiday trip to Cape Cod and Craig would just have to flow into the next two weeks. He remained charged up from his fill-in assignment for Keith and Beth. But there was something causing an edge now as he took the pulpit for Calvary Temple. He put his notes down on the lectern and lowered his head: "Tabbara mas cummi thabatha sin doromannna sic bianti mas coomah." Quietly and to himself that prayer in the Spirit had been offered. Craig in all honesty did not know how to pray here; neither did he know in himself what to say next. "Good morning friends. It is good to be here with you again and to open up together some of God's truth. Turn with me please to John's Gospel chapter six." Craig noted that many did not have Bibles with them, but he had resolved that there would be no use of the overhead screen today. He had the King James Version in front of him and began with verse 44. "No man can come to me except the Father which hath sent me draw him; and I will raise him up at the last day." He went on with the rest of the chapter (a very long portion it seemed for this group). He paused and looked for about ten seconds at the congregation before reading the following: 63It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life. 64But there are some of you that believe not. For Jesus knew from the beginning who they were that believed not, and who should betray him. 28
65And he said, Therefore said I unto you, that no man can come unto me, except it were given unto him of my Father. 66From that time many of his disciples went back, and walked no more with him. 67Then said Jesus unto the twelve, Will ye also go away? 68Then Simon Peter answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life. 69And we believe and are sure that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God. Another pause. Craig went into prayer aloud. "Father we confess that we have little time for you. We have carved lives for ourselves which seem altogether too important. We have robbed you of opportunities to do as you have wanted with us. We come together and acknowledge that Jesus is the Living Bread, but then we play with other diets, and take in that which poisons. There is too much of the world in us. There seems to be a great divide in our lives between Sunday and the rest of the week. What we do. How we speak. What occupies our thoughts. As in the chapter just read, we have gone away from you. We will not pay the price of being peculiar people before this dark world. We lean on the news, commonplace thinking, and fail to lean on your Spirit. Our eyes are being continually darkened, but we do not even realize the declension. Lord, break us. Show us that our grasp of your revelation is still pitifully small. Let us smell the aroma of your pastures yet untraveled. Let us see the smiles of the newly redeemed. Make us ashamed. Make us hungry. Tear up our agendas. Make us living epistles. We are simply your property. Come in your majesty and in your purpose to re-make and revive these vessels of clay..." The prayer went on for another ten minutes. The people were both irritated and spellbound. They had never heard Craig in this fashion (although a couple of the elders had had talks with him after meetings). They had never been together in prayer this long. Then it was over and silence followed for a full minute. This was something entirely different. A woman's crying could be heard over in the mid-left of the Body. It started softly and progressed to groanings. Then a word of prophecy: "People take heed to the burdens of my son. He speaks my displeasure. He also speaks my plan, and the light 29
which is coming to you in a very few days. Not because of anything you have done. Not because you are exceptional in this City. But rather because I will have it so, that I might receive glory in this place. The hour is late. Prepare to see my love and my outpour. Repent, that the door might open." Necks were craning that the speaker might be identified. It was Martha, a quiet widow in her early seventies. Not known to be out-spoken. Simply attentive, willing to volunteer, reverent when appropriate and softly smiling. Craig spoke again. "By now you have guessed that there is no sermon this morning. Apparently we have given place to the Master. He indicates that He is about ready to act. Will we repent of our dreadful mixture? The front of the sanctuary is now open. Come forward for prayer and for washing. Let this be the start of something extraordinary between you and Jesus. Now friends, who is ready?" A couple of university students were the first...and it didn't stop.
ON INTO THE EVENING
It took about another hour and three quarters for the praying, the hugging, the confessing and the tears to abate. About seventy-five of varying ages had stayed behind . The corporate movement had separated into little clusters of four or five seated around the sanctuary. Hearts were being opened. Stories and secrets were being told. Burdens were being relieved. Circulating among the groups Craig and his fiancee Michelle could be heard saying things like, "So you're tired of playing church"; "Jesus is really pleased with this"; "Don't hold back"; "He is sovereign"; "Come on back tonight for special Communion". Something provoked Craig to call over one of the ushers and to tell him to get Phil the janitor to change the outdoor sign. "Let it read. Special Communion Tonight. 30
Cleansing. Commissioning. Come." Craig could already hear himself sharing with the people that famous exhortation of M'Cheyne's about Communion: "Just such, beloved, is the meaning of receiving broken bread and poured-out wine at the Lord's table. It is the most solemn appropriating act of all your lives. It is declaring by signs, "I do enter into the ark; I flee into the city of refuge; I lay my hand on the head of the Lamb; I do touch the hem of His garment; I do take Jesus to be my Lord and my God; I hold Him, and by grace I will never let Him go."... The more you feel your weakness, the amazing depravity of your heart, the power of Satan and the hatred of the world, the more need you have to lean on Jesus, to feed on this bread and wine-you are all the more welcome... It is a solemn declaration that you are one with all true Christians, one in peace, one in feeling, one in holiness; and that if one member suffer, you will suffer with it, or if one member be honoured, you will rejoice with it. You thereby declare that you are branches of the true Vine, and are vitally united to all the branches-that you wish the same Holy Spirit to pervade every bosom. You declare that you are lamps of the same golden candlestick, and that you wish the same golden oil to keep you and them burning and shining as lights in a dark world."
THE CHILDREN’S BREAD
Stewart and Krista Cromarty had only been occasional attenders at Calvary Temple. But recently they had felt a greater compulsion to worship. Perhaps the cumulative effect of Uncle George's testimony for Christ and his recent stroke had impressed them with their need. They heard of the movings and shakings at Crosspoints, but the development of friendships and providence had placed them elsewhere. A men's Bible study which Stewart attended had been investing time recently in new insights into Holy Communion. Both spouses were hoping to see it celebrated more frequently at Calvary. 31
Stewart had been particularly interested in Paul's teaching of blessings to health and body to be derived from the Sacrament properly taken (1 Corinthians 11). He could not shake the image of that little Gentile woman pleading with Jesus for the "children's bread" that her daughter might be healed (Matthew 15). Of course Krista's fibromyalgia was always on his mind. Pain in hips and lower back often made housework, walking and climbing the stairs intolerable. How could it not be Jesus' will to bring relief to his dear wife? Sunday evening found the two showing up early at the special Communion called for by Craig Randall; happily receiving his every word on the holy remembrance; delving deep into their hearts for cleansing and thanksgiving; sensing the world-wide reality of this family exercise of hope "til He come". After receipt of the bread and wine the congregation stood for a special prayer of dedication and a hymn. When they took again their seats Krista remained standing for so long that all eyes turned toward her. Purposefully she excused herself down the pew and headed for the front steps. She climbed them with ease, turned to the congregation and announced, "It's gone...this fibromyalgia is gone. Pain free. Thank you Jesus!" The response in the house was electric.
HEALING IN HIS RAYS It hurt me fifteen years the same, And I thought that it would Continue to torment my life, And cripple me for good. Oh, how I hoped the medicine Would gently ease the pain; But doctors told me not to hope Too hard, lest it remain. Each morning, I would fear the sun Which called me from my bed. I wanted to stay safe and still, And nurse my pain instead. 32
I nursed the curse of memories Of aching wasted days, And thought that there was naught on earth To cause me joy or praise. From time to time, some friend would come, And urge me to take heart; As if by some strange strength of mind, My symptoms would depart. But nothing changed, and each new day, My heart sank deeper still. Experience and doubts and fears Had robbed all strength of will. Then one spring day, my mail contained A letter from a friend, Which praised a risen, healing Christ Through whom my grief would end. I read with hunger every page, And scriptures she revealed About the Lamb of Calvary, ‘By whose stripes we were healed’! Could this be true, such power still A witness to his love? Though Christ returned so long ago To streets of gold above? A seed of faith had found my heart, As I craved more to hear How perfect love received from Christ Could always cast out fear. And fear was where my problem lay, As time and time again, I had the sad experience Of fear preceding pain. 33
The Truth grew stronger than my hurts. The Devil was my foe; The source of my infirmity Which doctors did not know. And Christ had died to liberate My spirit and my frame. How could I slight the precious gift Of healing in his name? So by the power of God’s own Word, Replacing faith for fear, I grasped the passing robe of Christ And drew his virtue near. I set the Bible by my bed And went to sleep assured‌ The sunlight kissed my pillowed head, To find me strong and cured! 1 PETER 2: 24 Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sin, should live unto righteousness: by whose stripes ye were healed. MALACHI 4: 2 But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings; and ye shall go forth, and grow up as calves of the stall.
WORKING SESSION NUMBER TWO
Midweek evening service at Crosspoints. Beth in her stark white cast walking delicately to a front pew. Smiles and welcomes all around. Numbers significantly up. Keith taking a wooden stack-a-chair to a point one-third of the way down the centre aisle. 34
"Welcome friends to a week of bubbling, new considerations, hope...that Jesus might be honoured. I hear that you enjoyed your visit with the young pastor from Calvary Temple. That your curiosity is stirred. That this pastor could get out of the way for you to make glorious discoveries on your own. I am thankful. On the way out you should take a copy of the list of suggestions for change being circulated. Right by the back centre door. Harry has a bunch of them. Perhaps you have heard that things are being stirred at Craig's church. I have met with Todd Bushnell, back from vacation, and the two of us are considering how the assemblies might operate together in this period of new light. Apparently many living rooms have been opened for discussion and prayer. Many Bibles have been taken off the shelf. Friends and workmates, perhaps unacquainted with church, are now responding to the invitation to "come, see". We are in a time of precious privilege. We will not manipulate it or hype it. We are stepping out of the way for movements of God. I am reminded of things which I have read concerning other revivals where pastors have left the pulpit, taken an obscure seat at the sidelines, prayed and let the people confess what God was doing. Reports are coming in that right now, as we sit here together, marriages are being healed, parents and children are coming closer, bodies are being mended, abusive habits are being kicked, anxious inquirers are sitting down over coffee to hear the Good News. This is no exaggeration. We must respect this time and keep short accounts with God concerning our stumblings. Right now if you have a word of good report, a striking piece of scripture, a prayer request, a comment on this move of refreshment in our midst, the microphone is yours. I believe that Beth, my wife-on-the-mend will start us off..."
READY FOR THE CALL
He calls you When there's nothing left but pleading. When the grim resolve you birthed 35
Has come and gone. When the stumbling past Re-visits with a vengeance. And the face betrays The force to carry on. He sees you When the days seem all so common. When the evening prayer is lost To clouded sleep. When the Book of Life Is shut to new discovery, And the first-love fire Impossible to keep. He knows you As the shepherd knows his lambkin. And your stumblings and wanderings In the climb. But He promised through The season to sustain you, And His caring shoulders Bore you many a time. Christ loves you And this truth proves all-sufficient. And will clear the mists of doubt And dull despair. And will steel you for New purpose in His timing, With the force and fire To work His wonders there.
OF ANDREW’S SPIRIT We have found Him And know that He is truth 36
Distilled and pure. A Certain Spring, 'Though damp and slush Delay the budding. A Prince with yarns Of fields and flowers And feathered trust. Unspoiled by gold Or other trappings Of convention. Unmoved by rank Or rule of present powers. But moved by Smallest cry of Pain or shame Or lonely lot. A Man whose every Waking step displays Assurance, equity, Mercy, patience, hope Direct from Heaven. Whose gaze commands. The Promised One. Re-charging nightly On hills of prayer, (With His Father, So He says.) As we have slept. Brother, drop your net. Come meet this One. Come meet your future.
RIGHT WHAT?
Isaiah shows us the way to God's good pleasure. It is the right sort of Sabbath and the right sort of fast described in chapter 58: 37
6Is not this the fast that I have chosen? to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke? 7Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house? when thou seest the naked, that thou cover him; and that thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh? 8Then shall thy light break forth as the morning, and thine health shall spring forth speedily: and thy righteousness shall go before thee; the glory of the LORD shall be thy reward. 9Then shalt thou call, and the LORD shall answer; thou shalt cry, and he shall say, Here I am. If thou take away from the midst of thee the yoke, the putting forth of the finger, and speaking vanity; 10And if thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul; then shall thy light rise in obscurity, and thy darkness be as the noon day: 11And the LORD shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat thy bones: and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters fail not. The consequent blessings from the Father look an awful lot like revival, both personal and corporate. We evangelicals need to assess our priorities. First we need to be right (2 Corinthians 5). Then we need to act right (James 1: 27). Then we need to speak right (Ephesians 4: 15). But instead we lock into the good confession, the sound doctrine, the Roman Road to eternal life, the pithy points of Paul's exposition, the principles of "successful" Christian living. We talk and we listen, and we talk and we listen, but we hesitate to push away from the table and work toward compassionate help and social justice. Opportunities are glaringly in our face every day. Serving the Lord does not simply mean filling a niche in the programs at the Assembly. Consider Christ's admonitions in Matthew 25 about helping His little ones. Let's get on with fruitful Body Life. Let's open the gate to blessing and revival!
38
HAVE I SEEN?
Have I seen Around the corner Young mother in wheelchair Pushed by sensitive son Legs limp and thin After the accident? Or at the store, Frail, neatly coiffed elder Holding purchases Mere inches from the eyes Hiding her blindness? Or young man In the one good suit, Files underarm, Seeking again today That job of promise In the wake Of broken promises? Or single mother In the parking lot, Trying to contain Three youngsters Who cry, compete And complain? For so long they were invisible. But then came A Great Pain, A faltering, A disruption In schedule And in connection. An embarrassment A helplessness A slip from the ranks 39
All in the mercies of Providence. And I see them now, And I feel the pulse And reach out.
BARRENNESS
Eight-thirty P. M. Automatic garage door closed. Back from Thursday night Men’s Group. Don Parks sat in the darkness, tapping the steering wheel. It was the third time today he had thought of his work-mate, Steve Fornsby. (Steve was obviously having some problems. But bottled up.) Four rings on the cell phone: “Steve, its Don Parks. It seems that you have been coming to mind throughout the day. There is something you need to talk about. I’m available.” “Well Don, it’s kids. You know that Lorraine and I have had difficulty…Look, I can’t do this now. She is in the next room. It’s very sensitive.” “Buddy, I have been out for the evening. Even now I am sitting in my car. How be you grab a jacket and meet me at Timmy’s on Weber Street in ten minutes?” “Isn’t it kinda late for this? Oh, alright…” That which ensued was something which Don had not even been able to achieve yet with the Men’s Group. Real heart-opening. Real engagement. Real vulnerability. It had been easy to do in the come-and-go anonymity of the coffee shop. Steve Fornsby and Lorraine were childless. Numerous efforts with the OB-GYN had led nowhere. Best indication was that the problem lay with Steve. He had become testy. Sex was becoming a chore and a source of despair. Recently jealousy had raised its ugly head. Lorraine was a Principal’s secretary at Central 40
Secondary. Jeff Brant was a Phys-Ed teacher, recently divorced. There were suspicions… And so it went for the next forty minutes. “Steve, I don’t know if you realize it or not. Our second is adopted. Very difficult first pregnancy, and we went this way for a boy. Never regretted it. Like an oasis of happiness. The older sister really rallied with us. Jimmy is truly family. My pastor Keith’ s second is also adopted. Same story. I believe that there are a couple of guys we should meet who could help us on this. I have grown to trust them. They will keep their mouths shut. If money is an issue with adoption, we could kick in. We have some connections locally and with distant agencies. Talk this over with Lorraine. I will be praying. I know that Becky would make herself available for your wife. I would suggest you not go to all the life science considerations being touted in the news. Beautiful kids are out there, waiting. One could be yours…” In the darkness of the parking lot two mature men hugged and wept, shook hands, ‘til next time. Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ. (Galatians 6: 2) He maketh the barren woman to keep house, and to be a joyful mother of children. Praise ye the Lord. (Psalm 113: 9)
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