Monday, October 25, 2004

The Consciouness and a Righteous Rage (of an "angry young man" - sorry Billy)

I received the following from a spiritual mentor today.

It was written by his brother - I only wish that I had captured the
thoughts as succinctly and as well supported anecdotally.

Encouraging to know that my journey's experience is not unique.

Where can I find such a worship experience? I don't see stumbling blocks
around me. The challenge is in seeing the opportunities to shape the
current environment to meet the needs reflected below.
=====================

Well Dearly Beloved (you know who you are!)

I am just home from church and a blessed communion service and thought I
might share a bit with our marvelous family. Now if the word "share"
coming from me scares some of you into scrolling quickly to the end, just
rock back on the kick stand of your Harley for a little while and let's
chat (even if your Harley won't run anymore ... Can I get an Amen right
here?)

We were privileged to attend Calvary Chapel this morning where Pam and John
and Little John go to church (Little John goes to Cheerio Chapel, I
think.) The music of the current song, I am Forgiven lingers yet in my
soul dripping with fresh dew. "I am forgiven, because you were forsaken; I
am accepted, you were condemned, I am alive and well your Spirit lives
within me, because You died and rose again.  Amazing love, how can it be,
that You my King should die for me. Amazing love, I know it's true. Its my
joy to honor you.  In all I do,  I honor you."

I looked around this very full room of intensely involved people meeting in
the Memorial Auditorium in Chattanoogaand some thought occured to me. If
you will indulge me for a short visit over some cyber space ink, I will
share them with you.

Our kids have thrived spiritually at Calvary Chapel.  You must know how
very thrilling that is to a parent. Believe me when I tell you this is not
a parent time to brag about the kids (yours are perfect, but not mine), so
don't read that into the motive here. Back to the point. You may not
think of a non-denominational down town church as something with which you
are overly familiar, but similarities do exist. Some of what is different
may deserve an "Amen" too. Mind you, I am not on a recruiting mission for
Calvary Chapel, and certainly not with MY family. (Can I get another Amen
here!)

Calvary Chapel was birthed out of the Jesus Movement of the 1960's in Fort
Lauderdale, Florida. Now before I loose your attention, please let me
gently remind you that I read all the sermons and prayer letters each of
you send to me. I listen to your tapes and thorougly enjoy coming to your
churches and hearing your sermons in person. So back up on your kick
stand, I am fixin' to preach for a while my own self!

I was standing in the middle of the room before church started and a
question occured to me. Why was I comfortable here?  Should I be? I
guess part of the answer is because I came desparately wanting to worship.
Jackie, Lee and I have in transition for the last several weeks and have
had to misschurchbecause our ox was in a ditch somewhere between I-20 and
I-75!  I deeply needed to be free from the hassels of moving and worship
with other believers.  I came ready.

The other parts of the question were just as easy to figure out. I was
raised during the hippy generation. I came to understand my own generation
(and myself in relation to "them") sometime after I was grown. The roots
of this church are in winning that sub culture to Christ. Further,  the
church is reaching a lot of today's young adults. I have worked most of
my career among young people, so that aspect of my revelation of comfort is
no surprise to you. Finally, and not the least obvious, is, that like you,
I was privileged to be around strong preaching all of my life. Frank, the
pastor, is a serious expositor of the Word of God, no exception here. I am
at much at home with his preaching as I am with yours.

There is another observation. In the churches I have belonged to recently,
there seems to have been a strong power block of families, deacons or
whomever. Going to church in these places included having to pass an
acceptance thing before you were allowed to really fit in.   You really
just had to ignore the burdening weight of "the club" and worship anyway.
Meanwhile you needed to pray you did not have to work as a church staff
member there, as I so often have. I did not sense that kind of protectivism
this morning.

Maybe from the standpoint of church polity it is because Calvary Chapel is
merely accountable to its parent group in Florida, and not to the locals.
I saw a lot of really dedicated "worker bees" this morning, but nobody I
saw had a big ball of keys and looked like they were the self delegated
approval agents. I will have to think more about this polity thing. Maybe
it is because this church is so new that no one is one of the "old
families" of the church (yet) and exerts some sort of prior claim. Maybe
because they are in a rented building no one can claim, "THIS is my pew!
Granny died right here thirty years ago."

What about this acceptance thing?  Just maybe this body of believers was
built on something we are not really used to having. Separation from the
world in the old days meant being separated from hippies. Yes, I
understand what a hippy life style was better than you do . I also
remember how a huge part of the lost populace was publically denounced and
excluded from our churches. Remember that? No pants on women, no beards on
men, if you do, no church for you! Ain't that just like Jesus?

My education on the absolute wrongness of that attitude came from the very
mouth of the man who influenced me so very much in so many other ways. I
remember going to Teachers and Officers Meeting on Wednesday night under
Dr. Lee Roberson. Sunday School teachers were encouraged (required) to
stand up and tell how many people would be present for visitation on the
following night. A very proud teacher stood up and introduced a brand new
convert to the group that he had found and led to the Christ. There the
young man was, long hair and all, beaming from ear to ear, and he stood
up. Dr. Roberson literally exploded, "Young man, don't you DARE go out of
here and attempt and represent Highland ParkBaptistChurchuntil you get your
hair cut! Now, sit down!"

The churchof Jesus Christis under serious indictment by God for building an
ugly moat rather than building a beautiful bridge. I am of the strong
conviction that many of our separated churches are dying out today because
of the seeds sown fourty years ago. Can I get another Amen right here?
Perhaps one of the strengths I found so refreshing today was that opposite
spirit, you know the one I mean, the one of acceptance of all people where
ever you find them.

Across the isle from me today was a man who is running for mayor locally.
On the other side of me was a nationally known heart surgeon. They are
older so don't get the idea that all these congregants just left puberty.
I had attended another church a few years ago with the mayoral candidate -
under the ministry of Ben Haden.  When my friend Ben retired and the church
finally called another senior pastor, that vibrant church with its open
doors began to shrivil immediately. Why? The man they called was an old
school reformed Presbyterian, not like the evangelistic Ben Haden. Now the
church has become what the elders wanted all along, I guess, a stictly
reformed church, THEIR church. That church is literally across the street
from a state university. Not many of the students are crossing the moat
today. And the older,less-reformed group like us have all faded away too.
Am IÂ surprised to find these older families along with this host of
otherwise unchurched young people? Not really.

Another thing. Ben Haden, Lee Roberson and Bob Jones all taught us that
you can have harmony in the Body of Christ, even if everyone does not all
believe just alike. Ben went so far as to say he did not vouch for anyone
in his church, let alone the choir. He was just glad they were under the
Word. He preached to everyone as if they were lost.  The point, these
men drew the line fimly around the fundamentals of the faith with no
compromise at all. After that, variations in denomination of upbringing
that came through the front door were relegated to the patient growth and
teaching ministries of the church. Besides, what is a church if all the
members are homoginized then poured into the redundancy and boredom of a
cookie cutter. That comfort zone with no room for differences was truely
foreign in the New Testament church.

Yes, I know the church I attended this morning breaks the mold, but who
christened the mold we are used to anyway? The pastor was saved while he
and his wife were internationally known models. God gathers his preachers
from whereever He wants to! (He got YOU didn't He?)

Oh yeah, you thought I was going to miss music, didn't you? Fat chance.
The worship leader (song leader) was a lovely young lady who sat in front
of the worshipers on a stool, long straight hair, casually dressed and
wearing sandals. Sometimes she prays, sometimes she only directs one's
attention to the words on the screen. She did not wave her hands. Most of
the time you loose track of the fact she is there. What kind of music does
she choose? Don't rush me. It was "blended contemporary" and it moved my
soul!

Just so you will know. My soul is often moved deeply by the sound of Bill
Gaither's Vocal Band. And I got just as energized in my spirit when I
listened to the loftiness of the well trained choirs sing the great anthems
of the faith at First Presbyterian and Highland Park. I still get just as
thrilled when I hear the hymns and choruses that came into our church out
of the great revivals of this nation's youth. I grew up with those songs.
If you are trying to put MY music in a box with your label on it, you are
out of luck!

What does not lift my heart is when I hear the songs of my childhood sung
today in a hurried rote manner by zombies in the pew. No wonder song
leaders have to wave their arms so much! Somebody pawned off on
Christianity an approved list of songs to sing in an agonized fashion and
then "somebody" else came along and squelched creative and spiritual
involvement. Further more, I am in absolute pity with the emotional
poverty of those who tried to embrace change a few years ago and got no
further than the Ron Hamilton sound because of some ecclesiatical peer
pressure. Give me freedom everytime and get out from between me and my God
when I sing! ...such as it is! ...and give me some more alto sax and
percussion while I sing!!   Can I get another Amen here!! Aaaamen!.

Now I am just talking to the people I love the most (check the list). So
if your Harley is still resting on its kick stand, "far" that bad boy up
and send me a note. I would love to talk to you. I may have to go back to
work soon and miss the opportunity.


With love and compassion

 ..... (the Beloved)

Thursday, October 21, 2004

Tragedies and Statistics

"A single death is a tragedy, a million deaths is a statistic" - Joseph Stalin.

I have just finished reading a book by Joe Rosenbaum called "Defy the Darkness" as part of writing an essay on the Holocaust.

Joe was a 14 year old Polish Jew living near the Russian border when Germany invaded in 1939. It was only written and published 3 years ago and really brings to mind the Stalin quote above as it recounts his 6 years of survival under the Nazi regime. Hearing first hand facets of existing in the ghettos, concentration camps (Auschwitz, Dachau), working for Mengeles himself and the measures required to survive were all quite moving, challenging and made me appreciate freedom. It also brought home the fact that hearing about 4 million Jews killed as a historical fact can only start to be appreciated when you consider them one at a time, hearing their stories. The irony being that they won't be told, except in kind by a survivor.

When I read the monthly Voice of the Martyrs newsletter there will be a deeper poignancy to the acts of persecution that Christians suffer. How long will our own freedoms last?
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In the spirit of anachronous juxtaposition - I thought this was funny:

A male frog goes to a psychic. The psychic tells him, "You are going to meet a beautiful young girl who will want to know everything about you."

The frog becomes excited, "This is great! Will I meet her at a party?" "No," says the psychic, "in her biology class."

Thursday, October 14, 2004

Gorilla suits suit

Today on the radio I heard about one of those incidents in life that gives me a smile, caused me to reflect on how I did something similar once and now, a few years on - I would still do it given the chance, or maybe I still do if only in a different form.

The story concerned a 25 year old man in Belgium arrested for jumping out in front of bushwalkers and then running off, whilst wearing a gorilla suit. Locals reported gorilla sightings to police for several weeks. A crack team of trackers equipped with dogs and tranquiliser guns was formed to locate and remove the wild threat. The gorilla was eventually confronted
without the aid of the tranquiliser guns and released after relinquishing his suit. His excuse - he thought that peoples' lives were too boring and he wanted to give them some excitement!

I remember doing a similar thing at a Youth Group costume night. I had my parents drop me off at the Church early, it was mid winter and quite dark in the car park by 7 pm. Wearing my gorilla suit, I was able to hide in the bushes along the pathway and have some "good, clean, Christian fun" with the nerves of quite a few of my peers. Would I do it again? - in an
instant. Would I do it now? - you bet. Do I do it know? - I guess I do, wearing the suit of conformity every day, filling a role that I feel is no longer me (Wemmick!). But is the person inside the suit supposed to be frightened by it? And what forms the mirror that shows the suit to the wearer?

Maybe the suit is me, and I don't like the me it represents! Maybe I was called to this reality, but now the season is past and another is being prepared for me.

Andrew has Given Up On Calling. Does that show a satisfaction with where he is, therefore happy not to pursue another journey or destination (for now)? If I give up on "finding"/hearing" my calling does that mean that I can remain content here? God doesn't call us to contentment. He would like us to feel contentment in some spheres of our existence, but what distinguishes between contentment and complacency?

I don't think I can be content here, as a destination. Although I can find purpose here in two aspects:

1. It is where God has put me and I should remain, seeking contentment in His purpose until shown otherwise.

2. Acceptance of this reality is a part of the journey to my next destination (I didn't write this line from an eternal perspective, but it seems to have more depth in that regard).

Today's reality, wearing today's suit, is a stepping stone, a preparatory phase. Waiting for the next visit to the tailor of life for another fitting session. Of what cloth and cut? - my preference, but the tailor does the sewing.