A Common Thread

Several years into the Babylonian captivity, after God has made His name known and revered in the whole Babylonian and Medo-Persian empire, Daniel recalls the prophecies of Jeremiah and is moved to tears, confession and repentance. Daniel gave long days to fasting, sack-cloth and ashes and heart-wrenching prayer. And he said, "Give ear, O God, and hear; open Your eyes and see the desolation of the city that bears Your Name. We do not make requests of You because we are righteous, but because of Your great mercy. [9:18 NIV]"

Amidst judgment and punishment, Daniel was aroused to say that Jehovah is merciful. With the city and the holy temple in ashes, with his people scattered to the four winds and he himself a eunuch in the court of heathens, Daniel calls God a God of great mercy. Daniel knew that his people were brought low by the hand of God. Conversely, they would be rescued and made to stand by the that same Hand.

God's grace is a consistent theme in Scripture. As is our salvation on the basis of that grace alone.

Daniel says, "We make requests of you, not because we are righteous but because of Your great mercy." Not because we are righteous. Not because we consent to our punishment. Not because we have confessed our sins in total. Not because we have repented. Not because we are withered from fasting and shamed in sackcloth. But because You are merciful.

While Daniel decried the evils of Israel and committed to godliness through repentance, he knew that those things had no inherent saving power. He knew that in the end, all men must declare their filthy rags to be filthy and acknowledge that their rescue and forgiveness came solely on the basis of God's mercy.

Blessed are the Peacemakers

Since I have been meditating lately on the Beattitudes, perhaps God decided to test me on a point or two.

Last night, I was returning home from B&Q with the family. I was in the front seat of the taxi, the family safely tucked away in the rear. As we stopped at a red light, the driver of the taxi in front of ours, got out of his car and began to yell at two men in an adjacent black car. After a few seconds, the occupants had had enough jawing and they jumped out of their car and began to pound the 50-year old taxi driver.

The sight of this prompted my dear wife to exclaim, "Honey!" Which in our marriage, means "Do something!" I exited the taxi and ran to pull the biggest beater-downer away from the taxi-driver. I put myself in the middle of the fracas and fore-armed the biggie and pushed the taxi driver back.

In my best adrenaline-induced, loud, broken Chinese I repeatedly screamed "That's enough!" The main aggressor cooled it and his passenger backed away, content just to offer obscenities. Alas, the taxi driver was not as smart. He held his grip on the big guy's shirt sleeve. As much as I tried to coax him to let go, he wouldn't. Apparently the shirt was made out of Lycra or something similar because (just like in the movies) the entire shirt ripped right off the other man's body! The taxi driver stumbled backward, regained his balance and stood there holding the shirt. The finger popped right out of the hole in the dike. There was no holding back the tides at that point. The two men went right after the driver again!

But almost out of the sky, two policeman appeared and wrestled the men apart. Unfortunately, not before each got in a few parting shots on the hapless driver. When the Calvary arrived, I returned to my taxi and had quite a lively conversation with my own driver on the way home.

After I got home, I thought about the situation long and hard.

We are called to be peacemakers. I think it was good to make peace. Or try.

On the other hand, I have seen in my lifetime a couple dozen fights and have even been in a little scrap or two myself. (Not in 14 years though.) I have watched my share of UFC and other combat-oriented events. Most fights - in fact a huge percentage - end with just a little blood, sore knuckles, a black eye or a cracked rib. Few end in death or dismemberment. Especially in China.

So I was also considering this notion. Is it right for a man to get out of his car, go over to another car and scream and yell? Isn't there part of us, that says, "You know, that's not right."? If I had just let him get wailed on, (as it was, the guys got in a good 8-10 licks), would he ever yell and scream again? I would hope not. Maybe he needed to learn a lesson. 50 is not too old to learn how to behave.

Hopefully, both ends were served. The older taxi driver learned not to confront two men in their thirties by himself and I saved him from a more serious butt-whooping.

In the future (as this type of thing seems more common), I will probably just let the men go at it. However, where there seems to be some gross injustice (like man versus child or woman or old man), I would have to step in. That also is more and more common.

Anyway....interesting night.

I think there is a lot of peacemaking on the horizon.

My Legalist Mind Pt. 1

I was reading Matthew 5. Jesus sat down. He opened His mouth,

"The poor in spirit are blessed because the kingdom of heaven is theirs."

Stop.*

Hmmm.

I kept reading. I saw Jesus say:

You have heard it said, "The rich get richer and the poor get nothing" but I say, "The kingdom of heaven belongs to the poor."

You have heard it said, "Pursue pleasure, reject sorrow, turn sorrow into gladness and be happy" but I say, "Do not be afraid to mourn, there is comfort for the mourner."

You have heard it said, "Survival of the fittest, Dog eat Dog, Might makes right" but I say , "The gentle will inherit the earth."

You have heard it said, "You are good enough; Love you for you" but I say, "Hunger for righteousness and you will be filled."

You have heard it said, "Truth, Justice and the American Way" but I say, "The merciful will find mercy."

You have heard it said, "You need to experience the world and you can't be blind to sin" but I say, "Pure hearts clearly see God."

You have heard said every slanderous, gossiping, back-biting, murderous comment, but I say, "God's sons are peacemakers."

You have heard it said, "Watch your rep, watch your back, get yours and stay true to your colors" but I say unto you, "Take the Big One for Me and you'll get a big reward."

---------------

* For some reason, I have always read this passage this way: Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. My mind has said to me, "You are blessed and will be blessed because you are poor in spirit." Something is inherently wrong with that. Are we blessed due to an intrinsic value or characteristic? Or are we blessed because we receive a blessing? In other words, are we in a state of "blessedness" when we are persecuted or when we a rewarded?

How Deep the Father's Love for Us

Can

I just stumbled across this. It touched me. I watched it again and it moved me more. Cody...this is for you.

This is a music video about a father and his son. Over twenty years ago Dick Hoyt ran a 5k while pushing his disabled son, Rick, in a wheelchair. They have since competed in over a hundred triathlons and marathons together.

Visit Team Hoyt

No Time Like the Future

Thought for the day. Something that's been on my mind.

Is it possible to organize and arrange your life, work and religion in such a manner as to remove any and all opportunity to demonstrate "love of neighbor?"

I will testify that it is.

The Ragamuffin Man

Sometimes I feel "led by the Spirit" to the bookshelf. A couple of months ago, my boy Matt left me a copy of Ragamuffin Gospel on the way out. I finally picked it up last night and read well into the night. Its an excellent challenge so far. Brennan Manning is prone to quote the heavy hitters, so his thoughts are strong. I felt like someone grabbed me by the shirt-collar, lifted me up and slapped me a few times. "Grace!" Slap. "Mercy!" Slap.

Has anyone else read RG?

"Because," the man said, "when I look at that God, the God of Abraham, I feel I am near a real God not the sort of dignified, business-like, Rotary Club god we chatter about here on Sunday mornings. Abraham's God could blow a man to bits, give and then take a child, ask for everything from a person, and then want more. I want to know that God."

Awe, Shock & Wonder

Marq posted this on his site from theResurgence:

These numbers are astounding to me. Awe. Shock. Wonder.

- Fifteen hundred pastors leave the ministry each month due to moral failure, spiritual burnout, or contention in their churches. (Another way to look at this is 18,000 a year.)

- Fifty percent of pastors' marriages will end in divorce.

- Eighty percent of pastors and eighty-four percent of their spouses feel unqualified and discouraged in their role as pastors.

- Fifty percent of pastors are so discouraged that they would leave the ministry if they could, but have no other way of making a living.

- Eighty percent of seminary and Bible school graduates who enter the ministry will leave the ministry within the first five years.

- Seventy percent of pastors constantly fight depression.

- Almost forty percent polled said they have had an extra-marital affair since beginning their ministry.

- Seventy percent said the only time they spend studying the Word is when they are preparing their sermons.

- Eighty percent of pastors' spouses feel their spouse is overworked.

- Eighty percent of pastors' spouses wish their spouse would choose another profession.

- The majority of pastor's wives surveyed said that the most destructive event that has occurred in their marriage and family was the day they entered the ministry.

Don't laugh but I went to a seminary (of sorts) for a few months. Not once did I glance out knowingly to my classmates (wink) and believe that 80% would throw up their hands within 5 years. Of the ones that hang around and survive into their 6th, 7th or 8th years, 80% of their wives would wish they would work in another "field." Of the 20% that do remain, over 1/2 would quit if they could do something else. Who knew that of my class of 50, 20 would have affairs? Or that 35 would have Depression? Or 25 would get a divorce? Or with all the training 8/10 would still feel grossly inadequate to minister?

Yet, I sit here, reading my Bible only in preparation for my studies, struggling with endurance, not knowing the language, failing morally, battling contention and my family torn between ministry and secular work.

And I am not even a pastor.

Typhoon

As you think of them, please pray for the people on the coast of China who were just nailed with yet another typhoon. This season has caused around 800 deaths and nearly 200 are still missing. Especially pray for the city of Wen Zhou (pronounced roughly One Joe), which has more believers per capita than just about any city in China.

You can read a little bit here:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/14284650/

It's All Greek to Me

I was Skypin' with my friend, Mark and he related to me a humorous experience with his family.

Wanna hear it? Here it go:

Mark and his two brothers would often congregate at the farm of their late father and the four of them would invariably become engaged in some good ol' Bible conversations. The "Iron sharpening iron" variety. As you would expect among 4 preachers, one of the brothers would hasten to use his knowledge of the original Greek and Hebrew languages to support his hermeneutic and other theological positions. One day this became particularly annoying to the father who found his own arguments utterly untenable in the light of his "ignorance" of Greek. At one point in their discussion, he rose from his chair, went into the adjacent room and returned with a Big Chief tablet and a pencil. Extending the writing pad to his son, he said "Please write for me, 'The rabbit ran down the road'... in Greek." Of course, this son was unable to write the sentence. The wise old man quickly reasoned, "Since you are unable to write even such a simple sentence in Greek, let's just use English."

As Mark would tell it, apparently this method of leveling the playing field worked on more than one Greek "scholar."

Freedom of the Will

After 5 years of Big Red Firewallin,' Blogspot is no longer blocked in C-h-i-n-a. May it continue in peace.

Google on.

Selah

Yeah, buddy!

Brandon and Rena gotta a newbie. Her name is Selah Naomi. She was born on the 7th.

So cute.

The Second Coming of Clark

[high above the city]
Superman: Listen. What do you hear?
Lois Lane: Nothing.
Superman: I hear everything. You wrote that the world doesn't need a savior but everyday I hear people crying for one.

More on Personal Testimonies*

When it comes to presenting the gospel, the number of methodologies is innumerable. There is no shortage of ways to preach, teach and tell the gospel story. The modern methodology is experience. We want to relate "what God has done for me." We tell how "God has changed me." We preach about how we were fanning the flames of hell and then God rescued us. We relate in incredible detail the feelings, the changes, the experience, the blindness, then the light, the personal transformation, the rescue, the voices, the tears and the salvation experience. It is rare to find a gospel presentation (to a non-believer) that does not include an overwhelming personal testimony.

This is for two reasons.

Firstly, the contemporary church suspects that because this is a quote-quote postmodern society, the personal experience serves to validate the gospel message.

Secondly, the contemporary church suspects that the postmodern listener is asking the question, "What will the gospel do for me?" and that this question is inherently personal and experiential.

I believe both to be inadequate. The first assumes that experience lends credibility. The second is based on the assumption that experience lends credibility and then falsely assumes that each believer must have and even demands a certain experience. The inadequacy lies not in the presence of a salvation experience but in the priority given to this experience. Everyone has a testimony. But every testimony must be subordinated to the gospel message; it must not become the gospel nor outshine it.

Consider Paul's personal testimony.

Tribe of Benjamin. Top-dog Pharisee. Gung-ho in Judaism. A man's man (as Jews go.) He hated the Christ, hated the church and hated the message. On his way to Damascus he was knocked off his horse by Jesus himself. Paul came face to face with the resurrected Lord. Other than Paul, only John the Apostle would stand mano y mano with the resurrected Jesus. One was blinded for 3 days, the other was so overtaken by fear that he fell down like a dead man. Paul was caught up to the 3rd heaven. He heard things. After his blindness he was healed and baptized.

I don't know about you, but Paul's story is one boot-rattlin', hardcore testimony. Beats the pants off anything I have heard in recent times.

But notice what Paul does in Acts 9:20, 22, 28.

He runs right out and he....he.... preaches Jesus.

He does not preach Paul's experience. He does not relate his testimony (though Barnabus does.) He preaches Jesus. This is amazing! He has arguably the most awe-inspiring conversion experience ever (though Nebuchadnezzar's ranks up there), and he just preaches Jesus! This puts personal testimonies in perspective. Jesus first. The Gospel first. My story a distant second.

Admittedly, Paul did give his testimony at a later date. Once before the Jewish government and once before Agrippa. Ironically, no one believed his message those days.

Miracles. Signs. Wonders. Experience. They all have their place. But people are saved, not by belief in any such experience, but by belief in the Lord Jesus.

*This is my own conviction. If your experience has been "perpindicular" to mine, then let me know. :) I welcome any thoughts.

Nebuchadnezzar's New Groove

Forgive me, father. I have sinned. It has been 13 days since my last post.

As of late, I have had my nose in Daniel. This week - chapter four. Here are couple of thoughts.
-----

I'll be the first to admit it...I get tired of testimonies. When sitting with some of the bruddas and sistas, my skin gets less than goosey at the "personal testimony" time. I've spent a few years (past) in environments where testimonies were the mainstay of encouragement; where faith was strengthened on the word of one who has been "saved." In theory, the personal testimony is a story of salvation. Of divine provision. Divine rescue. In practice, many personal testimonies are pools of self-pity, ungodly sorrow, and moments of glory in the flesh. It is not uncommon to hear testimonials as long as 30 minutes or more. Full-blown sermons. Sermons, which recount in haunting detail, sinful lifestyles, practices and abuses. And after this cake is baked, you get that sweet icing - "But God rescued me." That's it. I've heard it time and again. 30 minutes of Satan's kingdom and 3 seconds of God's rescue.

I am all for personal testimonies. They have their place...so long as they are just the seasoning on the steak. So long as they give more time to the salvation, provision and love of God. So long as they remember that it is disgraceful to "discuss the deeds done in darkness." The church should be infinitely more encouraged by the testimony of the Christ and His apostles and prophets.

Now that I am done ranting - I love 'Nezzar's testimony in Daniel 4.

King 'Nezzar was a great king. According to Daniel - a king of kings. One of whom all power and dominion had been given. He was a clever man, a great leader and a brilliant king. He was the head of gold in God's vision. But he was proud. Unimpressed (at least for too long) by Daniel's interpretations and Shadrach and co.'s escape from fire, he was driven to insanity. 7 years of alienation. 7 years of embarassment and grazing and dew-dampened clothing.

His testimony is one of the most moving and powerful testimonies in the Writings.

He begins with what should be the beginning of every man's testimony:

King Nebuchadnezzar, To the peoples, nations and men of every language, who live in all the world: It is my pleasure to tell you about the miraculous signs and wonders that the Most High God has performed for me. How great are his signs, how mighty his wonders! His kingdom is an eternal kingdom; his dominion endures from generation to generation.

He ends with what should be the ending to every man's testimony:

At the end of that time, I, Nebuchadnezzar, raised my eyes toward heaven, and my sanity was restored. Then I praised the Most High; I honored and glorified him who lives forever. All the peoples of the earth are regarded as nothing. He does as he pleases with the powers of heaven and the peoples of the earth. No one can hold back his hand or say to him: "What have you done?" At the same time that my sanity was restored, my honor and splendor were returned to me for the glory of my kingdom. My advisers and nobles sought me out, and I was restored to my throne and became even greater than before. Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and exalt and glorify the King of heaven, because everything he does is right and all his ways are just. And those who walk in pride he is able to humble.

Go back and read the whole chapter. Its a good one. The salvation of this great Babylonian undoubtedly had profound affect on the conquered world.
-----

If marching through Daniel is too much of a chore for you, :) check out "The Emporer's New Groove."

Hymn Lock

Well, as I am the designated "song leader" in my neck of the woods - I know, don't giggle - I am bustin' out with an all-hymn "song service" this Sunday. This is a great hymn. I love the picture in verse 4. This was written by John Wesley's brother, Charles. He wrote literally thousands. My songbook says Thomas Campbell wrote the tune in 1825. Is this the Thomas Campbell? Anyone know?

And Can It Be That I Should Gain?
Charles Wesley / Thomas Campbell

1. And can it be that I should gain
An interest in the Savior's blood!
Died he for me who caused his pain!
For me who him to death pursued?

Amazing love! How can it be
That thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Amazing love! How can it be
That thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

2. 'Tis mystery all: th' Immortal dies!
Who can explore his strange design?
In vain the firstborn seraph tries
To sound the depths of love divine.
'Tis mercy all! Let earth adore;
Let angel minds inquire no more.
'Tis mercy all! Let earth adore;
Let angel minds inquire no more.

3. He left his Father's throne above
(So free, so infinite his grace!),
Emptied himself of all but love,
And bled for Adam's helpless race.
'Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!
'Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!

4. Long my imprisoned spirit lay,
Fast bound in sin and nature's night;
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray;
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed thee.
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed thee.

5. No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in him, is mine;
Alive in him, my living Head,
And clothed in righteousness divine,
Bold I approach th' eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.
Bold I approach th' eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.

Powerless Church, Powerful Christ

Week after week I stream. Day after day I download. I love to listen to our online church. Its open 24-7. I am thankful for all the self-named ministries that offer free MP3s or a hi-quality wma stream. I am grateful for all the preachers who remind me week after week that last year they had over a million downloads. Yep, I was one or two of those downloaders. There is good preaching out there. Ravi Z. RC Sproul. Mark Driscoll (sometimes). John McArthur. Papa Chuck. John Piper. Rob Bell. Others. All free. Amen to that.

Yet, as we consider the office of the modern Pulpit, we can't help but notice the $. The shiny black cars. The big brass plaques. The well-tailored suits. (Most of the men listed above do not have this personna.) Undoubtedly, some do pursue the Pulpit out of selfish ambition. Some preach because their names are in neon. Others preach because of the second home and the third car. Some preach for the applause of the nation. Some preach because they want to do nothing else.

As Paul said in his letter to the Phillipians, "Some, to be sure, preach out of envy and strife...and selfish ambition rather than pure motives."

But then Paul said something shocking.

"What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed and in this I rejoice. Yes..I will rejoice."

Paul was imprisoned. In more than one way, his hands were tied. Surely he must have had a strong rebuke for those selfish ministers. Surely he had the apostolic rod ready for the back of the envious preacher. But his hands were tied. It was enough for him to get this letter out. And this letter said, "I will rejoice."

Shocking.

Paul's statement teaches two concepts.

One. We know the local body needs to be pure. Selfish ambition and greed are not the qualities of its leaders. 1 Timothy 3. However, the local body is not going to put a stop to all greed. Its not going to put the brakes on all selfish ambition - especially outside of its own fellowship. Where the church can judge itself it should. But where it cannot, it must rejoice. Week after week, weak men proclaim a strong gospel. Week after week, the redeemed flow into the city of God on the powerless preaching of a powerful gospel. Let us rejoice. If we have the power to get the sin out of the camp, then let us do so. If not, then let us trust God.

Two. The power to save is really in the Gospel. Not the man. Not the perfect church. Not the clever message. Its the Gospel. The selfish man may be "talking to the Hand" on the Day of Judgment even while his message has saved hundreds. Amen to that. Praise be to the God who saves people when I talk. Praise be to the Christ who rescues souls even when the kerux-er is steeped in sin. Paul is not rejoicing in what is wrong but what is right. The saving message of Jesus.

Compare Phillipians 1 with Galatians 1.

In Galatians, then so-called brothers were preaching a different "gospel." A non-gospel. Paul said to let them burn. They came with ill-motives and a poor gospel. Let them burn. I dare say, Paul was pissed.

In Phillipians, the gospel of salvation in Christ is intact. Some of the preachers are envious, selfish and greedy but the gospel is the real deal. This is not a Maalox moment for Paul. He rejoices. He doesnt rejoice in the sin but in the salvation of souls. Hey man, at least Christ is being preached.

Some of the blatant self-promotion on the internet is enough to make you lose yesterday's meatloaf. But you know what? I am often encouraged by the messages and apparently (so says one preacher) so are millions of others.

I can't condone a limo and a neon sign but I will stand and say "Praise God" at the preaching of the Gospel of our Savior.

Done rambling.

A Puritan Prayer

I am sorry. I have nothing original to contribute to the blog-pool. And, like Cody, lately I have been down with O.P.P. A couple of days ago I was listening to RC Sproul on the internet. At the end of his lesson a very serious fellow began to read in a most serious fashion ... a Puritan prayer. I was so touched by the prayer that I sat in silence long after the broadcast ended. The next day I Googled "puritan prayers." Take some time to do this yourself.

Here is one.

Holy Lord, I have sinned times without number, and been guilty of pride and unbelief, of failure to find Thy mind in Thy Word, of neglect to seek Thee in my daily life.

My transgressions and short-comings present me with a list of accusations, but I bless Thee that they will not stand against me, for all have been laid on Christ. Go on to subdue my corruptions, and grant me grace to live above them.

Let not the passions of the flesh nor lustings of the mind bring my spirit into subjection, but do Thou rule over me in liberty and power.

I thank Thee that many of my prayers have been refused. I have asked amiss and do not have, I have prayed from lusts and been rejected, I have longed for Egypt and been given a wilderness.

Go on with Thy patient work, answering 'no' to my wrongful prayers, and fitting me to accept it.

Purge me from every false desire, every base aspiration, everything contrary to Thy rule.

I thank Thee for Thy wisdom and Thy love, for all the acts of discipline to which I am subject, for sometimes putting me into the furnace to refine my gold and remove my dross.

No trial is so hard to bear as a sense of sin. If Thou shouldst give me choice to live in pleasure and keep my sins, or to have them burnt away with trial, give me sanctified affliction.

Deliver me from every evil habit, every accretion of former sins, everything that dims the brightness of Thy grace in me, everything that prevents me taking delight in Thee.

Then I shall bless Thee, God, for helping me to be upright.

Enslaved

This old hymn struck me this morning.

Oh! To grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be.
Let that Grace now like a fetter
Bind my wondering heart to Thee!
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it.
Prone to leave the God I love.
Take my heart now. Take and seal it.
Seal it for Thy courts above.

Mean John Thompson

The year was 1996.* And these few words would be the words that would lead to my Humiliation. I still hear their hollow ring in my dreams...

"Sure, I'll take you rock-climbing," John said.

The fact that John's concession was followed by a deep-throated evil laugh, should have warned me. Nonetheless, I was going rock-climbing. My first time. A true virgin. The hills were alive!

Little did we know, on the other side of the two pieces of sheetrock, was a sister with (as I suppose) her ear pressed to the wall. She came around the corner, empty glass in hand, and asked, "Can I go too?"

"Of course," John giggled.

We had company.

So the three of us made a date with our destiny. Caprock.

On the day of my Humiliation, Rochelle, Mean John Thompson and I, all packed inside his less-than-spacious Ford Ranger. "The Silver Bullet," he called it. Aparently John was not a teetotaler. He threw the hundreds of feet of rope, pulleys, 'beaners and harnesses that would be necessary into the bed of the truck and off we went. The sun was high, the wind was low and three of us were about to demonstrate our authority over the Fallen Earth.

Conversation was good on the 6 hour trip to Caprock. We talked of life outside of drugs, alcohol, marriage, Sunset, Slovakia and the U.S. Air Force. Laughter flowed like cheap beer at Happy Hour. All the while, Rochelle sat shotgun, smiling contentedly; no doubt happy just to be in the midst of such godly and yet manly men.

As we approached the actual cliff faces, Mean John Thompson explained that Caprock came from the Old English, meaning: "breaks away at the slightest touch."

"Yet do not fear!," he said under his breath as he unloaded the black, plastic garbage bags and the camping shovel. "I've survived every time," he added.

As John, scouted the first cliff, the other two pack mules carried everything to the base of said cliff. The cliff was high. It was 400 feet up if it was 45.

Now in those days, Mean John Thompson was a physical anomaly. He was not a muscular man, as some count muscular. But his forearms contained a near superhuman strength. I remember as if it were yesterday, how John laughed mockingly at Popeye as he "struggled" to squeeze open the the cans of spinach. John began each day with 10 sets of 20 finger-tip pull-ups. In the university weight room, baseball players would stand with mouths agape as John would wrist-curl the whole stack. He had become a rock-climbing machine.

As my Humiliation neared, John donned one of the harnesses, threw the rope over his right shoulder and started to free climb the Cliff of Insanity. No rope. No safety net. A true free climb. It took him minutes to reach the top, if only because he stopped to comment on the route to his disciples below.

"This is a good spot to shoot for!," he shouted down.

With that, he disappeared over the top. After tying one end of the rope to a tree or rock or small plant, Mean John Thompson threw the other end of the rope over the cliff. He appeared at the edge in what appeared to be a small, red cape and he descended in an instant.

John then gave me the other harness. I was to be first. Not Ladies First. Me. I was first.

Then began my humiliation.

Mean John Thompson explained that the other harness was a gift from his father when he was a small boy. But he told me even though it said "X-Small" on the tag, it should fit me fine. (Now if John is built similar to a stick-man, you might say that my body type is...oh....T-REX. Big legs, little bitty arms.) I struggled for what seemed hours to get even one leg into the child's harness. Meanwhile, Mean John Thompson laughed uproariously. Sometimes he gave encouragement by saying things like, "You look like a balloon animal!" Even Rochelle joined the mockery. However, I could see in her eyes the haunting question, "Will it fit me????"After lunch sometime, I was finally able to get the harness on. I was having some trouble breathing but John said not to worry. After some time, I was also able to pull my shorts through the holes and was not forced to do my first ascent looking like a European sunbather.

Mean John Thompson hooked in and hooked me to the other end of the rope. He told stories of how his Slovakian friends let him almost fall to his death only to tighten the rope at the last second. When he told this story, he had a look in his eye. That evil gleam. At this point, I understood why he brought the trashbags and shovel. I was beginning to have questions about John as the Anchor of my Lifeline.

My humiliation continued.

"Let's test the harness. Stand up straight and lean back on the rope," he said with a smirk. In my ignorance, I complied. When I was leaning all the way back, so that there was no hope for recovery, Mean John Thompson let go of his end. I fell hard. I awoke into consciousness to see John rolling on the ground laughing. Rochelle laughed harder. A tear came to my eye.

After the laughter subsided, Mean John Thompson gave me a few pointers. I started up the sheer face of the cliff. I made good time to the middle. Made a couple of nice transfers and then I stopped. 300 feet. I could go no further. I tried to block out the sounds of John mocking my legs which looked to him like two German sausages attached at one end with a rubberband. I tried. I concentrated. However, with the harness, I was beginning to feel like Lt. Dan.

"I, I, I can't feeeeel my legs, Gump."

Then my legs filled with lactic acid. They began to dance. Uncontrollably - like a the arm of a sewing machine. I couldn't support my weight. I couldn't hang on. I dropped off the cliff. After climbing several hundred feet, I just couldn't make the top.

Humiliation.

With only slightly less trouble than putting it on, I took off the harness. More than once, my comrades got a glimpse of my whitey-tighties. The female finally had to turn around in embarassment.

Humiliation.

But then Rochelle slipped easily into the harness and strapped in. I rebuked Mean John Thompson for pulling that same dirty fall-on-your-butt trick on Rochelle. I rebuked Rochelle for falling for it.

Rochelle started up the hill. She became for me what Larry was to Magic. What Lex was to Clark. What Communist Russia was to Reagan. Competition. Outwardly, I cheered her on. Inwardly, I wished she would fall off the mountain. Alas, she didn't. She finally got to the point where I had stopped. She paused. She was stuck. I cheered inwardly. Outwardly I said, "You can do it Gorbachev...err...um.. Rochelle." And she did. She climbed to the top. I still remember her little smile of victory. I decided at that moment, I would slice her leg open with a knife at Anthony's house.

Humiliation.

All because of Mean John Thompson.

*These events are all true. Not the slightest change has been made in the details. Names have not been changed so as to incriminate the guilty.

Velvet Elvis

A good friend of mine recommended this book to me. Rob Bell's Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith. I, in turn, recommend it. Its the kind of book that reads easy. A little too easy in fact. When I was done, I felt like, "That's it?" On the other hand, he deals very well with some of the misconceptions of biblical interpretation and inspiration, church life, discipleship and 1st century Judaism and Christianity. He has a number of excellent points that are simply taught and therefore easily learned. There are times when I felt that his points were not developed enough. He makes few efforts to deal with the obvious counter-arguments. Click on the picture to go to Amazon. Others have posted more in-depth reviews there.

Here are a couple of points he made, among many...

"Somebody asked me the other day why our church doesn't support the arts because we don't have dramas and short-act plays in the services. I realized the question, as with almost every question, goes back to Creation. I don't believe something has to be in a church service to be "for God." As if the only acting that is "for God" is acting in a church service. A church is a community of people who are learning how to be certain kinds of people wherever they find themselves, so they can do whatever is is they do "in the name of the Lord Jesus." The goal isn't to bring everyone's work into the church; the goal is for the chruch to be these unique kinds of people who are transforming the places they live and work and play because they understand the whole earth is filled with the kavod of God. God isn't in one building only. Doing things for God happens all the time, everywhere. If you are an actor, the goal isn't for you to do your work in a church building, in a church service. Please, go wherever it is in the world that people act and do it well. Really well. Throw yourself into it and give it everything you have."
.....

"Missions then is less about the transportation of God from one place to another and more about the identification of a God who is already there."