Rethink Monthly - Mar/Apr 2010 by Rethink Monthly

THE FLABBY BODY OF CHRIST • KEEPING THE LIGHT ON FOR GOD

RETHINKING GOD IN TODAY’S CULTURE. FREE • MAR/APR 2010

THOUGHTS FROM HAITI +SNOW WHITE

ONE ORPHAN AMONG MILLIONS

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These 12 Core Values That Make Up The DNA of thechurch Expect the unexpected | Irrelevance is irreverence Love people when they least expect it and least deserve it | Playing it safe is risky Pray like it depends on god and work like it depends on you | Everyone is invaluable and irreplaceable Everything is an experiment | You cannot out give God Maturity does not equal conformity | Go the extra mile It's never to late too be who you might have been | Do it right and do it big

COMMUNITY HOMELESS CONNECT

March 23rd 2010

9am-4pm at Salem First Baptist Church

“Homeless Connect is a one day resource fair focused on connecting homeless individuals and those at risk of becoming homeless in Marion/Polk counties with services to help improve their lives.”

For more information, contact Linda Macrae at 503-585-6232 or macrael@mwvcaa.org To volunteer, contact HandsOn Mid-Willamette Valley at 503-363-1651 or ksinger-adams@unitedwaymwv.org

WWW.COMMUNITYHOMELESSCONNECT.ORG

EDITORIAL RETHINKING DEATH BY BO & MELISSA LANE

We were rather nervous when Melissa got pregnant for the second time. Our first born, Benjamin, was eleven weeks premature and, because of the difficulty surrounding his birth, we didn’t want to put another child through a similar situation. So, needless to say, our discovery caused much anxiety for the two of us.

Our daughter was born in a small hospital in a small town in Oregon; the kind of place where everyone knows everything about every situation going on everywhere. So when I walked outside and saw a man trying his hardest to hold his composure, yet failing to the extreme, I knew it was the mother’s husband.

But God, being good, walked us through the first eight months without many issues and sooner than we realized we were in the hospital for the second time. Only this time, the situation was much healthier than before. Melissa would spend a few weeks in the hospital gearing up for the baby’s entrance while the doctors and nurses watched over and cared for her. Our daughter would be brought into this world a few weeks early but God was working it all out. We definitely noticed.

He was pacing back and forth talking to someone on his cell phone. One moment he was talking. Another he was weeping. And the next he was shouting things like “Why?” and “How am I going to take care of the kids by myself?” His world was falling apart. His kids wouldn’t grow up with their mother. The same day I celebrate the birth of my daughter is the same say he mourns the death of his wife. If you think about it, and if you have lost someone close to you, you can understand just how tragic it can be.

The night our daughter was born was both triumphant and tragic. For our family, it was joyous. Yet for another family, it was jaded. Excitement was brewing in our little hospital room for a life soon to be born but, in that same moment, echoes of mourning could already be heard for a life that was ending. Doctors and nurses ran back and forth, grabbing this thing and that thing, running down the hall to a room with a mother, just a few years older than my wife, who was dying. Personally, I found myself in a difficult position. As I walked down the hall, past the room where the mother lay dead, my heart broke; a feeling that usually accompanies such an enormous loss. “What if that was my wife, my mother?” were the thoughts going through my head. But at the same time, I was filled with joy and anticipation because this night would be the night I’d meet my beautiful daughter, Bella, for the first time. It was as if my own personal universe was being thrown off its axis and into a whole new dimension. Little did I know this difficulty would drastically elevate the moment I stepped outside.

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Two hours later, my daughter was born. She was beautiful and healthy and alive. And I boasted my newest treasure for all our family and friends to see. I took pictures and helped print her little foot on her birth certificate. It was triumphant; everything but tragic. People die. We weep and mourn. People live. We leap and dance. Death and life - there is nothing new about either of them. They’ve been around for, well, the beginning of creation. We understand this. We live and cope and continue and refocus and move on but we still grieve and mourn and cry and remember. We are surrounded by death as soon as we enter this world, so from a young age we gather a common perspective of what death looks and feels like. But what if we changed our perception concerning death? What if we look at death as the greatest gift that life can give?

For those who put their faith and trust in Jesus Christ, this concept of death immediately becomes attainable. Our new awareness of death gives us the ability to turn our mourning into dancing and our sorrow into joy; a revived and renewed hope that our lives are not lived in vein. We hold fast to the promise of Revelation that “God will wipe every tear from our eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” So we will continue to weep and mourn for those who have passed away, only because we will miss their time here with us. This is good and normal and right. But our strength isn’t based on our situation. It comes only from knowing that God is good and that He’s making all things new. And we’re equally thankful that God’s goodness isn’t based on our situation. It’s based simply on the fact that He is good. He is holy and wholly righteous. And knowing this beautiful nugget of truth should change our situation.

Bo & Melissa remain awestuck by their Creator and His undying love for them. They’re thankful that God entrusted them with the world’s most beautiful children. They are also captivated by the TV show LOST. Just sayin’. Take a minute and holla at us: boandmel@rethinkmonthly.com

rethink monthly MAGAZINE

FEATURES

MARCH / APRIL 2010 - ISSUE 11 EDITORS/PUBLISHERS > Bo Lane > bo@rethinkmonthly.com Melissa Lane > melissa@rethinkmonthly.com MANAGING EDITOR > Connie Andresen > connie@rethinkmonthly.com SALES MANAGER > Susan Trask > susan@rethinkmonthly.com ART DIRECTOR > Vin Thomas > vin@rethinkmonthly.com CREDITS > Cover image by Vanessa Farnell. Additional images by Kesha Thomas and Vanessa Farnell. All images are property of their perspective owners and have been used by permission. All rights reserved. CONTRIBUTING WRITERS > Bo & Melissa Lane, Chad Fisher, Michael Olsen, John W. Whitehead, Grace Fudge, Scott Cornthwaite, John Fehlen, Stephen W. Simpson RETHINK MONTHLY > ©2010 Rethink, Inc. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any renewal retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher. RETHINK Monthly® is a registered trademark of Rethink, Inc and published bi-monthly. RETHINK Monthly® accepts no responsibility for unsolicited articles, reviews, features, graphics, or otherwise. The publisher reserves the rights to edit, rewrite, or refuse editorial material and assumes no responsibility for errors, omissions, or accuracy. RETHINK Monthly® cannot accept responsibility for claims made by its advertisers. Advertisers who place ads in RETHINK Monthly® do so with the understanding that RETHINK Monthly® will not accept responsibility for claims made by such in their ads, nor will the publisher be held financially accountable for errors in advertising (regardless of fault), beyond the partial or full cost of the ad themselves. Opinions expressed in RETHINK Monthly® are those of the writers and do not necessarily reflect the views of the management, staff, advertisers or publisher. RETHINK Monthly® is a free publication and can be picked up locally within Salem, Keizer and the mid-Willamette valley. REACH US > RETHINK, Inc PO Box 17316 Salem, OR 97305 Phone: 503-856-4430 Fax: 503-394-7121 www.rethinkmonthly.com www.rethinkpodcast.com After you’ve read every single word of this magazine and have shared it with all your friends and family, please consider recycling it or add it to your collection of Rethink Monthly magazines and save it forever.

Rethink Monthly Magazine is proudly printed locally at Western Oregon Web Press in Albany, Oregon. Find out more about them at www.oregonwebpress.com.

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CONTENT

Rethinking Death .................... Pg 06 Divided We Stand .................... Pg 08 Raising Hell: Isn’t That What Patriots Do? .................... Pg 10 A Village Cries Out .................... Pg 12 You Did It For Me .................... Pg 16 Keeping The Light On For God .................... Pg 18 Snow White: One Orphan Among Millions .................... Pg 20 The Flabby Body Of Christ .................... Pg 22

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FAITH CULTURE DIVIDED WE STAND BY CHAD FISHER

My wife and I had the pleasure of taking a little road trip last week with the newest addition to our family, Macy Lee. When we got home, a full mailbox and a pile of Wall Street Journals were laying in my driveway waiting for me to catch up on a week’s worth of news updates and latest economic sagas. In that pile of newspapers, a particular article caught my attention. At first glance, it seemed like news-filler, but after I began reading I realized that God was showing me something profound and beautiful. It has been 20 years since the Berlin Wall fell. But deep in the forest of Grafenau, Germany, a breed of red deer called Ahornia still refuses to cross the old Iron Curtain. This deer inhabits the thickly wooded mountains along what once was the fortified border between West Germany and Czechoslovakia. At the height of the Cold War, a high electric fence, barbed wire and machine-gun-carrying guards cut off Eastern Europe from the Western world. The barriers severed the herds of deer on the two sides as well. The fence is long gone, and the no-man’s land where it once stood is now part of Europe’s biggest nature preserve. The once-deadly border area is alive with songbirds nesting in crumbling watchtowers, foxes hiding in weedy fortifications and animals not seen there for years. But one species is boycotting the reunified animal kingdom: the Red Deer. Herds of them roam both sides of the old NATO-Warsaw Pact border but mysteriously turn around when they approach the since dissolved border, this although the deer alive today have no memory of the ominous fence. One reason, stated by wildlife experts, is that the deer have traditional trails, passed on through the generations, with a collective memory that their grounds end at the erstwhile barrier. Females, who stay with their mothers longer than males and spend more time absorbing their mothers’ movements, stick even more closely to the traditional turf.

In 2002, wildlife experts began tracking the herds of red deer using electronic collars and surveying their movement by satellite tracking and video surveillance at the old borderlines. Red deer born of herds from the West side will venture, nose literally touching the now open air where the wall once stood to divide them, and they stop. They move no further. Neither herd has ventured over the place where the wall once stood, though today, nothing stands in their way from expanding their territory into what is now free land for them to roam.

you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”

Most of us, like these red deer, have never ventured beyond the wall. For many, we’ve gained collective memory through things learned and things experienced which have become dividing walls for us, blocking us from advancing fully into the territory that Christ has already predestined for us to wholly obtain. Though nothing stands in our way, we limit ourselves by looking at the world through human eyes rather than through divine eyes. We have been called, each one of us, to expand, to grow, to accomplish, to achieve, to take risks, to be great.

The church remains divided. We remain separated by doctrine and denomination. We remain segregated by culture, color and race. We have white churches and black churches. We remain segregated by generation, offering contemporary services for the young and traditional services for the old. We remain divided by the legalism that shapes our worldview and perpetuates the overwhelmingly justified judgment toward those who believe or look or act differently than we do.

We are not limited in what we can do, become or accomplish. The biggest limitation that we face is not the difficulty of what is to be grasped or obtained but our own insignificant view of ourselves. It’s our view of ourselves that blocks us in, keeps us small and limits our potential. What we need is God’s view of who we are, what we are to become, what we are to accomplish. Genesis 1:26-28 recounts the words of God toward mankind before the first man and woman were yet living. God said, “Let us make man in our image, to rule over all the creatures and over all the earth…then God blessed them and said to them, ‘Be fruitful [great, successful, strong, influential] and increase in number [expand, grow, create]; fill the earth and subdue it [without fear and without hesitation, everything is yours; as big as you can dream there is yet more for you than that].” Jeremiah 1:5 says, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set

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We’ve been called to be prophets to the nations. Jesus’ last command to His church as He ascended into heaven was to “Go and make disciples”, not “Stay put and remain in your comfort zones.” Expand. Grow. Create. Influence. Yet how do we do that when we are stuck behind an invisible wall?

The church stands with its’ nose against an invisible wall that was destroyed thousands of years ago by Jesus’ sacrifice to unite all of mankind to it’s creator and return all of creation to it’s fruitful beginnings. Galatians 3:26-29 says to all of us, “You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” Freedom is ours. We are rightful heirs to the promises of God. All we have to do is step across the line. Chad has spent the last decade as a youth pastor and worship leader and now leads a growing team of people committed to planting a new church in 2010. Chad lives in Columbus, Ohio with his wife Katie and two daughters, Morgan and Macy.

Join us on Saturday, April 3rd starting at 1pm for a free community egg hunt, snacks, popcorn, drinks, movie and much more. Fun for the whole family. All are welcome! Salem Harritt School | 2112 Linwood Street NW in4th at 10am at Harritt! April And donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t miss our Annual Pancake Feed on Sunday,

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Recently, I was invited to speak to a group of affluent, upper middle class retirees. The host’s estate was extensive, his home airy and spacious, original art graced the walls, and the guests ranged from dignitaries to activists from the civil rights era. I had been invited to lead a discussion on ways to minimize political polarization and find common ground, and I agreed, hoping that these people, who are well-educated, well-connected and well-to-do, would want to get involved in the freedom struggle and effect change within their spheres of influence. Instead, I came face to face with those I’ve been writing about for years--materially comfortable, disconnected from reality and totally oblivious to what’s been going on in the American government as far as the erosion of our civil liberties and the amassing of power by the federal government. I quickly realized that what these people call polarization is actually Americans challenging the status quo, especially the so-called government elite. To my surprise, I found myself on the receiving end of a group lecture in which I was reprimanded for being too negative in my views of the government. I was also informed that I need to have “faith” in our leaders and refrain from criticizing our president because Americans still live in the best country in the world. In other words, my patriotism was called into question. But is this really what patriotism or loving your country is all about? If so, then Thomas Jefferson and the great freedom fighters of our times would be considered unpatriotic. I felt like a radical extremist just sitting there. After all, I spend my time calling government leaders to account for their actions, and when they fail to abide by the Constitution, I actively and vocally exercise my rights as a citizen. In fact, the First Amendment does more than give us a right to criticize our country--it makes it a civic duty. It didn’t take long for me to see that my view of what it means to be American was diametrically opposed to that of the group. I belong to the camp that equates patriotism with activism--even when that activism may be perceived as extremism. Martin Luther King Jr. put it best when, after being accused of extremism, responded, “The question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremist will you be?” This group, however, which is representative of a substantial cross-section of Americans,

seems to think that faith in the government and a positive attitude are enough to get you through the day--that you’re not a good citizen if you criticize the government. Comfortable in their materialism, they have come to believe that being a good citizen means doing one thing--voting. The problem we face today, however, is that America requires more than voters. It requires doers--a well-informed and very active group of doers--if we are to have any chance of holding the government accountable and maintaining our freedoms. After all, it was not idle rhetoric that prompted the Framers of the Constitution to begin with the words “We the people.” In the words of former Supreme Court Chief Justice Earl Warren, throughout the extraordinary document that is the Constitution and Bill of Rights, “there is an implicit assumption that we, the people, will preserve our democratic rights by acting responsibly in our enjoyment of them.” This ultimate responsibility for maintaining our freedoms then rests with the people. The Framers of the Constitution knew very well that whenever and wherever democratic governments had failed, it was because the people had abdicated their responsibility as guardians of freedom. They also knew that whenever in history the people denied this responsibility, an authoritarian regime arose which eventually denied the people the right to govern themselves. All governments fall into two classifications: those with a democratic form and those that are authoritarian, ruled by an individual or some oligarchic elite. Acting responsibly, however, means that there are certain responsibilities and duties without which our rights would become meaningless. Duties of citizenship extend beyond the act of voting, which is only the first step in acting responsibly. Citizens must be willing to stand and fight to protect their freedoms. And if need be, it will entail criticizing the government. This is patriotism in action. What this means is that we can still be patriotic and love our country while disagreeing with the government or going to court to fight for freedom. Responsible citizenship means being outraged at the loss of others’ freedoms, even when our own are not directly threatened. It also means remembering that the prime function of any free government is to protect the weak against the strong. Love of country will sometimes entail carrying a picket sign or going to jail, if necessary, to preserve liberty. And it will mean speaking up for those with whom you might disagree.

Tolerance for dissent, we must remember, is a vital characteristic of the citizens of a democratic society. As Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes said, “If there is any principle of the Constitution that more imperatively calls for attachment than any other, it is the principle of free thought--not free thought for those who agree with us but freedom for the thought that we hate.” Loving your country does not mean being satisfied with the status quo or the way government is being administered. Government invariably, possibly inevitably, oversteps its authority. As human beings are not perfect, governments, because they are constructs of human beings, will necessarily be imperfect as well. Love of country, it must be emphasized, is always strengthened by both a knowledge of history and of the Constitution and, when need be, acting on that knowledge. “If we have no appreciation of the past,” Justice Warren recognized, “we can have little understanding of the present or vision for the future.” The problems facing our generation are numerous and are becoming incredibly complex. Technology, which has developed at a rapid pace, offers those in power more invasive and awesome possibilities than ever before. Never in American history has there been a more pressing need to maintain the barriers in the Constitution erected by our Founders to check governmental power and abuse. We’re at a very crucial crossroads in American history. We have to be well-informed, not only about current events but well-versed in the basics of our rights and duties as citizens. If not, in perceived times of crisis, we may very well find ourselves in the clutches of a governmental system that is alien to everything America stands for. And make no mistake about it, the mass of citizens will continue to be misinformed, and as astute political leaders have recognized in the past, they can be easily led. Therein is the menace to our freedoms. As Hermann Goering, one of Hitler’s top military leaders, opined: It is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is to tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country.

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Cries Out

A Village

by Grace Fudge

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I sat on the dry stubble and dirt, the traumatized and trembling earth, rocking back and forth in sobs. I was asking why, for a people with so many needs, for a people having such a passion for Christ, for the children just having received prayer for protection and provision, and for the children who, just hours ago, had celebrated the birth of Christ with their sponsors: why, why did this happen? My whole being was encompassed in deep anguish. Those around me were in stupor and unbelief, prayer, and tears. To have heard the sound of the earth growl and moan in its transition stage, to have seen the countryside “crack” and watch as the dust erupts skyward, all the while hearing the hysterical cries and wailing of the village peoples in unison, a crying out to the Lord, a crying out to the gods that could not promise “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” Seven days earlier, I left Portland Airport at 6AM with anticipation, not fully knowing what this mission had in store for me in Grand Goave, Haiti, with Lifeline Christian Mission (LCM). There were six women in my group – my sister Cece Taylor and her friend Rosie Thompson along with Rosie’s daughter Cierra, and twin sisters Janna and Dee Peters. We felt that our jet’s “777” destination from Texas to Miami was significant. Over the next number of days, meeting the numerous interpreters (all Haitian men-of-Christ that had been “sponsor children” themselves through LCM) left me in admiration for their gentle and compassionate nature. They had a great sense of humor, which I really enjoyed, and it was easy to converse with them. They were most eager to help in any capacity and they went out of their way to make our activities and programs run smoothly. I was captivated by the women on “Women’s Day” with their passion for the Lord and dedication in worshiping and gathering with one another (some took two days to get to the compound and by no means was it in a comfortable vehicle). Their voices of praise, singing, and worship, the memorization of scripture, both the young and the old – they gathered for praise unto the Lord. In a country so different from what I am accustomed, we worshipped the same God, we sang the same songs. I found that there was no barrier between the two different cultures when Christ was the focus. But for a large majority of Haiti, Christ isn’t the focus. Haiti is about the size of Maryland and about two-thirds mountainous. The history of Haiti is not necessarily a pretty one. Revolutions, dictatorships, political turmoil, the AIDS epidemic causing a final collapse in the economy, poor infrastructure, and hurricanes only begin to paint a picture of a country where the people are oppressed - a look into the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere. Roman Catholicism is the official religion of Haiti with voodooists believing that their religion can coexist with Catholicism. Otherwise, Voodoo is considered the country’s national religion. The Protestants, however, go up against voodooism and have brought Christianity into the county, bringing in not only the Word, but they have educated, fed, and cared for a people who would otherwise be struggling with malnutrition, severe poverty, rioting, disease, and peril. Being on the cement roof of a two-story building during the 7.0 magnitude earthquake was sheer terror. It was a true miracle that the building did not collapse; the contortion of the building was ghastly, and yet it did not crack as I was riding on a wave of cement that heaved and rolled. I look at what the country of Haiti went through, a country that at its best is considered “poverty stricken” by our standards and what are “slums” to us could be its better parts of the country. To endure a disaster that they were very unfamiliar with, a cataclysm that tore their lives apart, a tragedy leaving them homeless, the heartache of losing loved ones and having loved ones injured or unaccounted for, is just so unfathomable. CONTINUED ON PAGE 14

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A Village Cries Out Continued... The Reverend quickly goes from group to group as we are huddled out in the field, making sure we are okay and making sure that there are not any immediate needs amongst the women at LCM. His own village is in turmoil and despair. A young Haitian man is seen, arms heavenward, praising the Lord in Heaven. It is such an incomprehensible situation, yet these people know that God is in control, God is good. The evening was long. The village peoples poured into the grounds of LCM (all the walls around the compound had come down). The tremors continued. With each tremor, the cry of the peoples increased. What rose above all else was “Jesus, Jesus.” There were believers and unbelievers that walked onto the compound. They came in not knowing what was happening, but knowing that they were in a safe place. And throughout the night, they continued to pour in, families all huddled together on the ground, some crying, some praising God, some voodooist reaching out for that which was unattainable through their veneration. A baby was born. There were reports of fatalities. The wounded were starting to come in - gruesome doesn’t quite cover what was seen and heard. The night was long and sickening, with the unknown awaiting all. Light of a new day brought perspective to some, reality to others, but mostly fear to the Haitians. We went out amongst the hundreds of people encamped in the field, along with some of the interpreters, and prayed with and for the Haitians. It was a very hot day, but

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we cried together; we held each other. We could not immediately fix anything, but offering hope and loving on them was imperative in knowing that we were all in God’s hands. We prayed with those that had lost loved ones. We prayed over those that were injured. We prayed over those that had missing family members. We prayed for provision, hope, and healing. We gave out clothing for those that were in need. We cared for the wounded through LCM’s medical clinic, although the medical supplies were very limited and the injuries were great. More babies were delivered; more information came in reporting the loss of loved ones and severe injuries. Moreover, through it all I felt so broken, so empty, knowing that I endured this quake without a scratch or a bruise or having lost a loved one. I had food and water; I had a home to go to. The devotionals that had been planned out for our week at the compound, months before we ever went, were focused on God’s protection and provision. Little did any of us know that, at the beginning of the week, we would refer to each one of them and, in wonderment, exclaim that we were being prepared in a mighty way. The night following the quake, there was the most beautiful and incredible worship service under the stars in Grand Goave, Haiti that was heard for miles. The Christian Haitians sang out to a mighty God, and I walked amongst these people, singing in English as they sang in Creole. There was such a peace about it, even though the earth trembled and the buildings still shook. As I lay outdoors for the

night with a large number of other women, encamped in the yard, I would sometimes fall asleep, only to awaken to the beauty of the praise. Through the nights, the Christian Haitian interpreters were protective, very attentive, in prayer, and made sure we were all right. One such man would always come up and ask, “Are you okay, my sister?” When I awoke the morning (2:30 AM) that we were to leave, they were all together in prayer for us, praying for our safety, as the roads we were about to embark upon were dangerous, roads of uncertainty due to bridges that were damaged, roads that had split from the quake, and roads where we could be ambushed. They broke out in song where you could just feel the spirit moving, and before we loaded the bus, they went from one to another, hugging and praying for us. I look at the amount of faith that these Christian Haitians have. I went into a county that is poor, so deprived, and very underprivileged. Yet they are richer than most of us ever will be. I look at a people who have so little, yet the simplicity of their lives and their need for provision and protection allow them to seek God in great measure. They know who their creator is; they know from where all blessings come; they know that God is in control. One such interpreter likened LCM in this manner – “God used Lifeline as he used Joseph” - God had brought this ministry to Grand Goave to prepare them for what was coming, to bring in provisions for their peoples,

and to help guide them in their walk with Christ in a country that is so full of corruption and iniquity. Since the quake, LCM has been able to bring in help, and along with the US Military, have handed out thousands and thousands of meals and have played a big role in the medical care of the people in the village and outlying areas, and have started cleanup of destroyed homes. A recent report that I received from Gretchen DeVoe, Lifeline Christian Mission Co-founder was full of promise and hope. She states: God is sovereign and He is doing something here in Haiti! The spiritual presence of our Lord can be seen and felt in every bit of energy that is expended by His people. And the eyes of the people of Haiti are on His mighty works. Haiti continues to need our prayers and our help. Haiti is facing some very big challenges. But things are shaking in Haiti, not just from aftershocks. People are coming to Christ. There have been a great number of baptisms. The Haitian President declared the weekend of February 12-14 as “days for prayer and fasting.” People are turning to God for their needs. God is in control, and with God, all things are possible.

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You Did It For Me

A Local Girl Saw A Need And Will Stop At Nothing To Help Those In Her Community

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“Unless someone like you cares a whole, awful lot, things aren’t going to get better. They’re NOT!” Dr. Seuss, The Lorax

Since education is distracted for the homeless students, Whitney decided she wanted to try to eliminate as many of those elements as possible.

From a young age, Dr. Seuss taught many of us that it takes an extraordinary effort to affect change for the better. In the book, children are encouraged to deeply care because if they will not, things will not get better. This is a profound lesson that Dr. Seuss teaches us.

Give A Shirt partners with a contact at the Salem-Keizer School District in order to fill needs that other social programs cannot fill adequately, allowing the students to get back in the classroom and continue their education.

What does it mean to care a whole, awful lot about something? If I care this much, is my effort going to affect change for good? Can I really make a difference?

Once each quarter, the homeless students are invited to a party where they can get free medical attention, hang out, play Wii, eat lunch, and sign up for field trips to go shopping for new clothes that they will enjoy wearing.

In Fall of 2009, the Youth Pastors at Salem Alliance Church in Salem, Oregon challenged the high school and middle school students to come up with a way to help solve an issue in the Salem-Keizer area. The idea was to find a way to be Jesus with skin to the area – that this would both teach students how to be loved and how to love others through the love of Jesus. After all of the ideas came in, the youth groups would then vote on the best idea- the idea that they would actually help out with. West Salem High School senior Whitney Ferrin, an attendee of the high school group at Salem Alliance decided to take this challenge to heart. Whitney researched the Salem-Keizer area to find a problem that was waiting desperately for a solution. Her findings? Disheartening. Whitney learned that there were 900 homeless students in the Salem-Keizer School District during the 2008-2009 school year. The magnitude of this statistic is astonishing. Whitney teamed up with Paula Hoffart, one of the Youth Pastors at Salem Alliance, to figure out how to help these students. The idea that they came up with is to sell t-shirts. “We wanted to sell a t-shirt that we would actually want to wear,” says Ferrin, “When the Give A Shirt idea came up, we both said, ‘I’d wear that!’” An edgy name gets people talking. Try wearing one of their shirts around town. People interact with you in ways you would never expect. After the youth groups voted for Whitney’s idea, the production of shirts began. The rest is history. In the past 3 months, Give A Shirt has sold over 1,000 shirts at schools, festival booths, and on www. igiveashirt.org. From the start, Whitney wanted to help the students get clothing. She found that students were harassed and made fun of at school for clothing and hygiene issues. Homeless students have so many factors distracting from their education. Getting to school can sometimes be last priority for these students because of life’s other issues. “If I was made fun of at school for reasons that were beyond my control, I wouldn’t want to go either,” says Whitney, “We want to help these students be able to rise out of the situation they are in.”

When a middle-school homeless student was told that she would get to go shopping for new clothes, her face lit up. She was amazed that somebody would want to help her. Later in the day, at lunchtime, another girl mentioned that she hadn’t eaten in two days. In Matthew 25: 34-36, while sitting on the Mount of Olives, Christ says: “Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’” Whitney says that the proceeds of t-shirt sales help Give A Shirt accomplish their mission statement: “Give Hope, Restore Dignity.” “Succeeding is getting the students clothes,” says Whitney, “We have already succeeded, but we must continue to succeed. It’s a big deal. Kids need to be able to see people who care about them.” Some people have dreamt of Give A Shirt expanding and franchising to other areas with similar needs. When asked about this, Whitney smiled. “That would be awesome and completely affirming of what we are doing here in Salem,” acknowledged Whitney, “But we need to fill areas of great need in each community. That might not be homelessness somewhere else.” Caring a “whole, awful lot” is hard to do in a culture that constantly blurs the lines between needs and wants. The homeless students in Salem are struggling to even satisfy their basic needs. Give A Shirt has a wise founder. She understands what Christ was talking about in Matthew 25 about serving those who have needs. She heard the message that Dr. Seuss teaches in The Lorax. She is leading a large group of people to affect change for a group of homeless students in great need. Give A Shirt is helping students in the Salem-Keizer School District, and the organization’s influence is growing rapidly in Salem, Oregon. There remains a question that needs to be answered. What are the great needs that need to be filled in your area? Will you Give A Shirt?

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Keeping The Light On For God by John Fehlen

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have been reading the Book of Exodus lately. In it we discover such great detail regarding the construction, décor, and maintenance of the temple of the Lord. If you’ve ever read through Exodus, then you too have discovered the incredible minutia. Frankly, it can be a bit mind-numbing. Every detail has a corresponding detail. Everything has a purpose and a place - it’s amazing and awe-inspiring, yet, it can be overwhelming. So, just when my eyes were beginning to gloss over my heart was captured by these verses in Exodus 27: “And you shall command the children of Israel that they bring you pure oil of pressed olives for the light, to cause the lamp to burn continually. In the tabernacle of meeting, outside the veil which is before the Testimony, Aaron and his sons shall tend it from evening until morning before the LORD. It shall be a statute forever to their generations on behalf of the children of Israel.” Here we discover God’s command to the priests that there should always be a light left on in the temple. The inner court must always have illumination. The lamps were to be filled with pure olive oil. The process by which olive oil is harvested and refined is pretty amazing. There are various grades of oil, and the command was such that only the purest form was to be brought to the inner court to keep the lamp burning day and night. Throughout Biblical history, we discover that oil is often used as a typology of the Holy Spirit and His anointing presence. From this passage, one can surmise that the Lord God desired that there be a visual reminder of His Presence always burning brightly within the temple and before the people. God’s desire for His manifold Presence to be expressed, enjoyed, and exalted remains today. He wants His life-giving Presence and Power to be evident in our churches. And yet, how often have we been a part of, or at least aware of, congregations in which God’s Presence has not dwelt for some time? These are empty shells, white-washed tombs, and shadows of their former selves. It’s sad to find churches with beautiful architecture, but lacking the life of God’s Spirit. How does this happen? Who is to blame when the lights are barely on, and God is certainly not at home? The better question might be: “How can we, in our postmodern culture, insure that the Presence of God still burns brightly within our gatherings?” I believe there are two components that are found in the Exodus 27 passage. The People BRING It The people of Israel were commanded to bring the pure oil to

the temple for the lamp to remain lit. There is a responsibility on their part that is often overlooked today. Our contemporary churches have largely become spectator based in which folks rate the service like that of an episode of American Idol, or So You Think You Can Dance? In large part, the leaders of the local church have a heavy expectation to “bring it,” and if there seems to be a lack of God’s Presence, then the services are rated accordingly. In this passage we discover the opposite expectation. The people were to “bring it.” Let me repeat: THE PEOPLE BRING IT. Imagine with me what would happen when Spirit-filled believers come together and collectively bring the indwelling Presence of God with them. Our gatherings would be lit up! Church services would be alive with the collective spiritual energy that is generated by God’s people full of God’s Spirit. Now that’s where the pastor’s role begins. The Pastor TENDS It Aaron and his sons were the priests of the temple. They were commanded to tend to the lamp from evening to morning. That would probably involve filling the lamps with oil, keeping the wicks trimmed, and watching the flame. What is notably absent from this passage? Simply: bringing oil was not their responsibility. The role of the priest involved tending. Today in our churches, we have pastors that are given the same role of keeping the lamp burning with the oil that the people bring. I have known good and Godly leaders that struggled in their place of ministry service. There are a number of reasons why this could be the case, but it occurs to me that perhaps they were trying to keep a lamp burning without oil. These wellmeaning pastors have too great an expectation upon them to be both bringer and tender. That is an undue presumption that leads to a high burnout rate for pastoral leaders. To be sure, our pastors ought to be spiritually alive people that embody the Presence of the Living God. Yet, often they are expected to be the sole source. This is akin to lighting the pastor on fire while everyone stands around and watches the show. Have our churches become Pastor Shows? If so, are we OK with this? What will the fallout be when the heavy yoke of bringer and tender becomes too much? Let’s stop placing this undue burden upon our church leadership. They are called to tend to that which people bring to the assembly, and not the other way around. This is the appropriate place where the Kingdom of God becomes a partnership: people and pastor. Together we can keep the light on for God.

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CULTURE

SNOW WHITE: ONE ORPHAN AMONG MILLIONS BY MICHAEL OLSEN

Twenty years ago I met Snow White: Porcelain white skin, black hair, and a wide smile greeting everyone, and I do mean everyone, who was within hearing distance of her “Hello.” If you ever met her, you probably would ask where the seven dwarfs were. I had the same thought. “Nobody is this nice,” was the way a friend of hers described her personality. I first met Nancy, aka Snow White, in St. Louis, MO. We both were airline employees; she was a flight attendant and I worked as a safety instructor at the Training and Operations department. We met during a lunch break at the TWA Training Center in St. Louis. She asked me if she could join the table where I was sitting. I was having lunch with a church youth group who were at the training center for a tour. Nancy overheard the conversation I was having with the Youth Pastor concerning the power of prayer. Nancy asked the Youth Pastor and me if we really believed Jesus answered all prayers. I told her that I had no reason to doubt that He didn’t. She explained her lifelong prayer was very close to being answered. Nancy would soon, possibly that afternoon, discover who her biological mother was and where she was located. Nancy continued to share with us that she interviewed to be Snow White at Disneyworld in Orlando, Florida after her graduation from community college. Throughout her school years, people always compared her to the Disney animation character Snow White, not only because of her physical likeness, but as well, her “charming ways.” Apparently, the interviewers thought the same. During the background investigation, Disney personnel called and requested more information about her parents. She explained that she was raised by her adoptive mother and really did not know much about her parents. The personnel worker said she would be in touch. She was recalled to Orlando and was offered a one year contract as a cast member to play Snow White, on one condition. Because of her heavy “southern” accent, she would be restricted in her scripts. “Welcome to the magic kingdom”

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or “Hello, how are you” would be the extent of her verbal communication with the park visitors. She said she became very good at ‘lip syncing.’ She had our lunch table in hysterics! That conversation with Disney personnel touched a spark with Nancy. She became more curious where her parents were, or better yet, who they were. In a very emotional voice, Nancy described how one road leading to her biological parents’ whereabouts led to another roadblock; a turnpike of information would end up as a dirt path to nowhere. Her adoptive mother and father provided all they knew, but as always, the information was incomplete. It wasn’t until she met her future husband Richard at a church function that the ice age of information she desired began to melt. He was a pediatrician and had compassion for orphans. He worked many hours providing free medical care for children living in foster homes. More importantly, he really believed God answered all prayers, and soon they both were about to witness an answer to Nancy’s prayer. Nancy was in St. Louis on a special assignment. During this same time, Richard had been attending a medical conference in Memphis. At the conference, Richard met an alumnus of his medical school. This acquaintance, Peter, had gone on to become a pediatric surgeon. As they were sharing stories about medical cases, families, and friends, Richard told him about Nancy’s plight in locating her biological parents. Peter said that he went through the same thing in that he, after 12 years, located his mother. His father died a year before he had located his mother. Richard was ready to ask how he pulled off all that detective work when Peter asked, ‘what is your wife’s middle name?” “Jane” was his response; “Nancy Jane.” “Richard,” Peter asked, “what state was Nancy adopted in and when was she born?” Richard supplied that information and showed another picture of Nancy. Peter studied Richards’s pic-

ture and said, “Richard, I believe Nancy is my younger sister by one year.” Peter pulled out a recent picture of him standing alongside his mother. The similarities of Peter’s mother were unmistakable. Peters’ mom could be Nancy’s older sister; a senior Snow White if you will. Peter added that his mom told him that she gave him and her daughter up for adoption because of her and his father’s alcoholism. Peter’s parents eventually went their separate ways with no desire to remain in contact with the children. She had spent most of her life working in a textile mill in Marietta, Georgia. Richard stared at Peter and in unison both yelled, “I got to make a call!” They could not get to a phone fast enough. Richard called Nancy at her hotel in St. Louis and said, “Honey, God has answered your prayers. I believe your mom is alive in Marietta, Georgia.” Peter called his ‘mom’ and as well, contacted the courthouse where his paper trail began in locating his mom. Everything checked out, and Peter forwarded all the information to Nancy and Richard. Now Nancy was waiting on the call from Lillian, her mom, to verify everything. The next day I saw Nancy at the St. Louis Airport. I asked if “mom” called. Nancy replied with her Snow White smile, “Prayer has been answered Michael; I’m going home to see mom today.” Michael was the Director of Ministries for the Salem Union Gospel Mission for 10 years. Prior to his work at UGM, he retired from the U.S.Army after 21 years and worked for Trans World Airlines in New York after his military retirement. He and his wife Wendy live in Salem. Michael can be reached at mjeccl4@gmail.com.

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THE MILLION OTHER STORIES â&#x20AC;&#x153;Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the worldâ&#x20AC;? James 1:27 Nancyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s story came to mind as I watched the orphan tragedy in Haiti over the last month. Nancyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s story was a good orphan story; most stories about orphans do not have Nancyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s ending. As I began to research how to help the people in Haiti, especially the orphans, I was reminded of how large the orphan plight is worldwide. MSNBC reported that â&#x20AC;&#x153;before the quake, an estimated 15 percent of all children in Haiti were said to be orphaned or abandoned. About 200,000 of these children lived in institutions and the rest were fostered, living with relatives or living on the street.â&#x20AC;?

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WHO IS AN ORPHAN? In the common use, an orphan does not have any surviving parent to care for him or her. However, the United Nations Children Fund (UNICEF), Joint United Nations Programme on HIV and AIDS (UNAIDS) and other groups label any child that has lost one parent as an orphan. In this approach, a maternal orphan is a child whose mother has died, a paternal orphan is one whose father has died and a double orphan is one who lost both parents. In the United States, one legal definition used is a minor bereft through â&#x20AC;&#x153;death or disappearance of, abandonment or desertion by, or separation or loss from, both parents.â&#x20AC;? Whatever the cause of a child becoming an orphan, the numbers are staggering worldwide. In Afghanistan there are an estimated 1.5 million orphans due to years of war. In China it is estimated 573,000 children are in orphanages and 650,000 orphans in Russia. In Myanmar, the former country of Burma, the figure is a staggering 1.7 million. With 100,000 orphans due to the earthquake deaths of their parents, the Haitian government is now faced with well over a quarter of a million orphans. Before the earthquake there were 1,700 professional missionary workers in Haiti where 60 percent were dedicated to the orphan plight. From what I read, that is about the average amount of missionary workers in Latin American countries with a population of 10 million. Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a lot of children for 900 people to care for. By some estimates, Haiti has more nongovernmental organizations per capita than any other place on earth. They are doing the Lordâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s work, especially these days, but even a blizzard of these efforts do not seem to put a dent in the orphan population. However, a 2002 report by Dr Geoff Foster showed that Faith Based Organizations (FBOâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s) were the â&#x20AC;&#x153;most viable institutions at both national and local levels and have developed experience in addressing the multi-dimensional impact of AIDS and its particular impact on children.â&#x20AC;? Although the orphan population seems insurmountable, extraordinary results are being witnessed by many missionaries worldwide. Improvement in childrenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s basic health, education, and most importantly, being raised with the Gospel of Jesus Christ, is a daily occurrence. Not only in Haiti, but worldwide. Inquire with your church the best way to help the orphans of the world. Youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll never know if a Snow White story will enter your life.

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OPINION THE FLABBY BODY OF CHRIST BY STEPHEN W. SIMPSON

Church is boring. I don’t ever recall hopping out of bed on Sunday morning jazzed about the sermon, even when the preacher was good. I’ve never driven to church in anticipation of hearing the choir or the worship band, even when they included remarkable musicians. When I went, it was to see my friends. I wanted to talk. Sunday school and Bible study were okay, but breezeway and parking lot conversations were the most invigorating. My utmost communion with the Body of Christ didn’t even happen on the church premises. That happened in some loud restaurant that offered free refills of Diet Coke that helped me power on past noon and large portions that would render me unconscious fifteen minutes after I got home. Now that I have kids, I don’t really get to have church anymore. Our four year-old quadruplets (all natural, so step-off, octo-haters!) keep us scurrying during the breaks. I go to church for them now. Statistics on church attendance, especially for men my age, suggest that I’m not alone. Maybe the problem isn’t me, after all. Maybe something is wrong with church. As much as postmodern evangelicals bandy about the word “community,” our gatherings have changed very little. Stylistic alterations might add some hipster flair, but the focal point of the liturgical week remains theater. A dozen or so people perform for a few hundred that sit, stand, kneel, pray, and sing on command. We squeeze real community into the gaps, between events with a hierarchical structure. Not only is this a long way from Biblical models of the early Christian church, it’s a breeding ground for messy group dynamics. And, again, it’s boring. Church today, whether a cathedral, a mega-aluminum warehouse, or a little wooden building in the country, has little in common with the New Testament church. In the first century there was still teaching, prayer, and worship, but the early church was about community. Paul’s letters paint a picture of people living together and collectively figuring out what it meant to follow Christ. The authority of the leaders and teachers wasn’t a forgone conclusion. They were in dialogue with their congregations. Paul himself

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often had to defend his position of authority and many of his letters are part of an ongoing doctrinal debate. You get the sense, however, that even theological issues were somewhat secondary. The focus was a meal, not a class or a worship service. Some early Christians enjoyed the community meal so much that Paul had to tell them to tone it down because they were partying a little too hard. Nowadays, it’s hard to imagine most Christians getting too carried away having a good time together. Church is an adjunct to professional and familial communities. We get up on Sunday, drive, park, sit, listen, sing, pray, chat, and go home. Even if we’re involved in a small group, the relationships are usually secondary. The early Christians learned and grew through relationship. It’s plastered all over the New Testament. Yet, we still structure our religion around one guy, and it’s not Jesus. Churches often grow for the wrong reason. If you don’t find church boring, it’s probably because of a talented preacher. He’s smart, but moreover, entertaining. Big, active churches are cults of personality, not communities. Try to imagine Mars Hill in Seattle without Mark Driscoll. Try to imagine the other one without Rob Bell (though at least he had the wisdom to abdicate his throne). Try to imagine Lakewood Church without Joel Osteen. You can’t. When the focus turns to Christ, it’s because a showman gets our attention first. We don’t find God in each other. The Body of Christ has an enormous head atop a weak, flabby body. Though pastors give “servant leadership” lipservice at leadership conferences, few enter the ministry out of a desire to submit and suffer for others. How could they? How can we expect our leaders to be authentic when theater is the center of our religious week? How can someone consent to shepherd the flock as a Man of God without being narcissistic? Any leader in the modern church needs at least a little bit of narcissism to survive. No one is drawn to such a job unless they enjoy power and attention.

A little narcissism isn’t really the problem. We need to like ourselves and have a healthy sense of entitlement. But when these traits reach a clinical level in the form of Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD), it’s poison to the body of Christ. In my fifteen years as a psychotherapist, I have encountered few human systems so consistently dysfunctional as church staffs. I’ve heard of pastors doing things that would make the most ambitious CEO’s blush. Though most of us only hear about this when a high-profile church leader’s grandiosity leads to recklessness, most of the time acrimony and dysfunction continue behind the scenes for years. When we rely on the talents and titillating vision of one man instead of the slow, silent life of community, it’s easy for people to get hurt. After spending a thousand words twitting the Sunday service, I should probably come up with an alternative. But I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m too narcissistic as it is, and I don’t want to be the one to tell you how it’s supposed to be. We need to decide. We need to figure out, once again, what it means to follow Christ together. This is a plea, not a prescription. I want church to be fun again. By fun, I don’t mean entertaining or topical or cool. I can get that at concerts and movies, and they do a much better job than the church ever will. No, I want to talk. I want to listen, but to a friend instead of a sermon. I want to be taught, but only if I can ask questions and participate in dialogue. Mostly, I just want to eat, drink, laugh, and enjoy other people. That’s where I find God. Stephen W. Simpson is a psychologist, writer and professor at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena, California. This article was first published on PatrolMag.com.

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