Sunday Dinner

Dinner after church on Sunday was always a challenge. Jane and I were tired and ready for a nap by the time we got away from the church facility and to the restaurant. Our boys, well, they were a different story. After being “penned up” in the respectable atmosphere provided by Sunday School and Children’s Church, they were energized by a different spirit! 

I think we were in a back room at Po Folk’s in Anderson, SC, and although we were trying hard to be good parents, I, for one, was ready to abdicate the throne of power. There was an older couple dining at the table beside us whom I didn’t look over at because I was embarrassed. I was relieved to see them finish their meal and head to the counter to pay, leaving my wild bunch alone to complete the massacre of another good meal. My relief was short-lived, though, as the white-haired gentleman reappeared in our room and headed straight to our table, where he threw down several dollar bills. Thinking he intended to leave a tip for the server, I said, “Sir I think you have the wrong table,” pointing to where they had previously sat. But the old gentleman just shook his head and, with a smile, said, “No. It’s the right table. I haven’t seen a show that good in years and felt like I should leave you a tip!”

That couple’s generous spirit redeemed the day for us as we all laughed about “our show!” In our seventies now, the boys and their families are scattered around; Sunday dinners are different, and we miss those times. When led to our table for two, if I see several boys eating with their parents, I think back and say to Jane. “Let’s just pick up something to go!” We laugh and leave.

Where Did the Line Go

 

Some say Jesus wrote the names of the woman’s accusers in the sand. I agree, but I also believe that, in doing so, he included a line between himself, the woman, and her accusers. Not just a line, but the line. Some will say it didn’t happen; others will attempt to leave it out of the Book. But I believe Jesus drew the line that has persisted in our collective experience for centuries. When we were kids, the line showed up on every playground, in every yard, and in every gym the world over. It was a challenge offered by bullies and the bullied alike. It dared, taunted, and accused. It was Godlike in its ability to make a person decide the worth of things and the value of nothing. 

It defined people in ways they have never been able to shake. The line was not arbitrary; it was sent by God, no matter who drew it, as it had to be acted upon. The line imagined a world in which things were yes and no, in and out, and right or wrong. It signaled an event we call “a time to put up or shut up.” That line caused stupid men to lose fortunes and power-hungry emperors to forfeit their kingdoms. 

When Aunt Between yelled, “Well, you have crossed the line now!” I knew that shooting the rooster with my BB gun wasn’t a good idea and that making a run for it was. This much I know: I’ll never shoot another rooster! 

The line also appears in office spaces and businesses, drawn by those in charge tasked with upholding its sanctity. But there are many missteps by those who toe the line of policies and rules, so that in many places the line is no longer solid, becoming instead a hodgepodge of dots and dashes that seem to signal maybe instead of yes or no.  

We used to know where the line was. Now we don’t, and a generation has grown adept at demanding that no lines be drawn, no expectations be expounded, and no limitations on freedom be declared. Maybe too many lines were drawn, and people just got tired of being dared to step over, or maybe the lines were despised as a make-or-break proposition that should never have been proffered in the first place. Why let anything of oneself be defined by an idiot who can’t even draw straight marks in the dirt? 

One day, Gimp Justus drew a line and told Jesus that if he stepped across it, he would give the Redeemer a butt whippin’ the likes of which he had never seen before.  Gimp drew his line out of disappointment, anger, and shame…Jesus crossed it because he didn’t want him to be alone in his misery. Gimp drew it to formalize the separation and to declare his independence from God. Jesus took the dare.

The real problem is that we have gone through life mistaking a line for the line; it is the one that has always tried to separate us from the very one Gimp Justice wanted to whip. It is an invisible line-made so that it can move in relation to where we stand with Jesus. Yes, moveable and invisible yet real, and one that we encounter each day in thousands of different ways. We live lives of adjustment as this line appears in our hearts, beckoning us to step across and embrace the eternal dare of union with God. 

Gimp knew there was distance; he felt it when his doctor said he was HIV positive due to a blood transfusion, when his wife left him, and when his daughter died in an automobile accident. Now that distance had turned to anger toward anything that smacked of God and had become a solid line of separation—just the kind a savior desires to cross. 

In Isaiah 63:9, it says, “In all their suffering he also suffered, and he personally rescued them. In his love and mercy he redeemed them.” 

He rescued them; he redeemed them. Who is them but everyone who suffers affliction? His love and mercy, of divine necessity, step across the line to save all who are afflicted from wicked ownership.

The only way Gimp or anyone else can truly understand God in life is through the cross, by which the suffering servant crosses the line to end conflict, forgive the unforgivable, and restore relational brokenness. Lines drawn out of hurt, anger, and resentment toward others, and lines drawn to entice us into battles for things, fade away into oblivion when we finally realize the line that really counts- the one that divides our hearts- is always being crossed by one who will not leave us alone in our suffering.   

A Major Shift   Part 2

Our Present Reality

The denomination that I have served in launched a new program during the last decade to revitalize the movement. Their view was that the root of the problem in our church was members' inadequate knowledge of the Bible, so a biblical literacy program was proposed as a solution for plateaued and declining churches. Like many, I too believed we had a huge problem with church congregations that had become untethered from solid biblical truth, which could adequately underpin the birth of disciples and uncompromising Christian worldviews. For too many years, a primary diet on Sunday mornings, which by default had become the main evangelistic outreach opportunity for the church, was a preaching to felt needs with a heavy emphasis on popular trends. The idea was to make people feel good about their church and themselves, in a way that would bring them back wanting more, rather than sending them out needing less. 

The goals of disciple-making had changed. Congregants were being fed to fatten and make them comfortable. Pastors sought to build and maintain huge herds rather than well-cared-for flocks, and the end goal became producing long-term attendees who contribute to the church's ministries.  With large staffs, massive buildings, and cutting-edge ministries to children, youth, and seniors, strong financial support was essential.  As a pastor, I certainly felt the pressure to provide for these things and carry out missional projects, which had me counting nickels and noses like most of my colleagues.  As I reflect, I also recall times when my course was altered to provide for those vital ministry needs above many of the causes of Christ. Those causes were never repudiated or publicly embraced, but in the institutional church, actions may be altered if the right words continue to be spoken. We create a form that looks like the real thing. The Pentecostal church does not believe in creeds, but there are sacred words and phrases that, when repeated from pulpits and classrooms, bring comfort while living an opposite reality.  This is a danger to everyone schooled in “church-ianity” but wholly ignorant of “Christ-ianity.  It is a word without spirit and movement, devoid of divine life. But sadly, the institution we call the church can continue to exist and, in fact, thrive at times under those terms.

This strategy, of course, gets approval from its surrounding culture. Those who worship success will sing its praises, and those demanding excellence in presentation will laud its newfound relevance. And further, the denomination will reward the pastor’s leadership, which has replaced theology as the core of our professional attentions. Because of these culture-pleasing factors, which are the present-day giants in the land, we are swimming against the current, making a return even more unlikely. But the story of God among men is incomplete without shepherds, so return we must. 

Return 

“Return to me, and I will return to you.” Malachi 3:7

Desert places make returning home difficult. These barren places invite fear, fear of failure and of death. Captive Israel looked at traversing 530-900 miles of inhospitable terrain from Babylon to Jerusalem, the shortest crossing of the Syrian desert. Those who made the journey did so at the risk of their own lives. Professionally speaking, any move back to a shepherding model is risky for pastors. At the same time, it is richly rewarding! 

The danger lies in the fact that culture, human greed, Satan, and a host of other factors have not changed. Every pastor with a shepherd’s heart has a proverbial “target drawn on his or her back.”  Zechariah prophesied, “Strike the shepherd and the sheep will scatter,” to refer to Jesus and his crucifixion. Jesus quoted this passage when speaking of his disciples’ plight at his arrest and trial. But these words are not limited to our Lord. They speak of a principle that has stretched through the ages. A leaderless people soon become lost. 

First Steps   

The hardest part of a dangerous trip is deciding whether to go. The mental and emotional strain of “counting the cost,” as Jesus says in Luke 14:28, is vaunting.  Going with the flow of things is perhaps the easiest of options, but for the true believer with a pastor’s heart, not the most rewarding. As a rancher, your legacy is typically your large buildings, high attendance, and dollars raised for missions. But the shepherd’s reward is in the intimacy he shares with his or her congregational members.  They are his treasure.

The year was 258 AD, and Emperor Valerian was persecuting the leaders of the church. Sixtus, the Bishop of Rome, along with many of his deacons, had been martyred. Now Valerian's attention was aimed at Lawrence, who, as a deacon, was charged with bringing the emperor the riches of the Roman Church so that he might be personally enriched.  The faithful servant of Christ was given three days to collect the gold and silver and present it to Valerian. For the next three days, Lawrence went through the city gathering the poor, sick, and lame and blind inhabitants, whom the church regularly helped with food, shelter, and medicine.  On the third day, Lawrence appeared before Sixtus with these living riches of the church, saying, “These are the treasures of the church,” dooming himself to a martyr’s death by fire. Later, the church conferred sainthood on the deacon, and the Perseid Meteor showers of August, aptly called The Tears of St Lawrence, remind us of this great patron of the poor.  If called upon to do so, what riches would we bring before the king?  Where is your treasure? Jesus said, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matt. 6:21 

Pastors and churches must value what we say we value. We must reach the lost, but what if the lost are in our pews every Sunday morning, singing in our choirs, and attending our men’s and ladies’ fellowship meetings each week? They have already been warmed by the fire of God; perhaps they will be more easily reached. What if we are gathering large groups who are “sorta saved,” as one young lady termed her life, meaning the lost are us. We must decide where we desire to leave pieces of our hearts before they are all taken up by things that will not matter eternally. Our first step may be to ask ourselves as pastors: “If we were not judged according to present-day measures, how would we minister?”

The next step we must take is to repudiate and reject the idol of greed that rules our nation and the world. Simon the Sorcerer attempted to buy the gift of God, but many today are selling it. Of course, that would never be the stated objective; to profit from the gospel would be wrong, but to carry on the work, to do things better, and to provide for the staff so that they may live a part of the American dream, what could be wrong with that? Nothing! But wealth is seductive, offering those who acquire large sums a false sense of confidence and security. I cannot count the number of times I heard that the church must be run like a business. Later, the trend deepened as Church Growth Conferences became Leadership Conferences and businessmen became the keynote speakers. Most of them were not known for their Christ-like life but for their business acumen and success. Although I never heard a speaker discuss cattle raising or beef production, I was inundated with tips on how to do things better, based on business principles. Combined with the Positive Faith movement, which infused the church with a materialistic fervor, the new day in which businesses acted as churches had arrived. As an overseer in my former denomination, I discovered the reality of this new day, as evangelism took a back seat to financial gain as churches created multiple campuses and branches. I remember well the words of one leader who said he wanted to start a church in a small town across from three of our own congregations because there was “money on the table” he didn’t want to leave. He did so, despite strong protests from our other churches and pastors. In his mind, money had become the prime mover of the mission. I wish that were a lone sentiment from our pastors, but as old church properties were closed or abandoned, many became too business-minded to be of any heavenly good. The smart leaders were students of their surrounding culture and learned, through business principles, how to give people what they want because the customer is always right. If enough of Jesus was sliced into the middle, the people happily ate the sandwich. 

What remains is a church lacking in prophetic edge and Pentecostal power but broadly accepted by the community, which translates into filled parking lots and pews. With the approbation and applause of those attending, the “we must be doing something right” was evidence that God was pleased. 

 

 

 

The second hardest is the first step itself. We must repudiate and repent of the worship of greed and material wealth. It was no accident that Israel’s rejection of Jehovah at Sinai led them to worship a Golden Calf, an idol crafted from their precious jewelry, indicative of the influence of the gods of their former empire of captivity. Deeply embedded in our nation’s soul is the spirit of mammon, and the church must declare war against it. Doing so will effectively put an end to much that the institutional church needs to exist as it now does. Revolutionary change must occur, and the ministry must transition to pastors who work primarily for God and not for financial gain or institutional greatness.

 

 

"Return to me, and I will return to you," says the Lord Almighty.”  Malachi 3:7

Having spent forty years in ministry

 

 

 

A Major Shift

Shepherd or rancher? I hadn’t thought in those terms before hearing the speaker at a church growth conference for pastors in Charlotte, NC.  He said, “One problem with pastors is that you think of yourself as a shepherd with a little flock of sheep. However, I encourage you to adopt a new picture for your life and calling. I am encouraging you to begin picturing yourself as a rancher. Instead of the guy out on a hillside with a few sheep, I want you to begin to see hundreds and thousands of cattle. And as the rancher, you have many hands helping you by personally caring for those steers. Our problem is that we have been thinking too small, and a big part of the problem is that word, shepherd.”  

That statement, heard by hundreds in the 1980s, didn’t seem as impactful as movement-defining rhetoric, but it captured a mood with a yeast-like effect. It began in the 1950s with successful Sunday School enrollment programs, bus ministries, and specialized ministries for children and youth. But I recall that “everything” seemed to change during that period. The church was on a roll, pushed along by televangelism and its dazzling array of stars. Bob Harrington, the chaplain of Bourbon Street, as well as Jimmy Swaggart, Oral Roberts, Rex Humbard, Robert Schuller, and Kathryn Kuhlman, seemed to usher in a new era for the American church following the West Coast Holy Ghost revival. They extended the Jesus Movement into the mainstream evangelical church life. They got a newly accessible enthusiasm, even if you didn’t have the privilege of baptism into the cold waters of the Pacific by a hippie preacher. 

This “word” from the Texas Evangelist was tinkering with what was under the hood. Cows were present in ancient Israel’s history. They were signs of prosperity. “The cattle on a thousand hills” described Jehovah’s riches. Yet the story was always Father and son, sheep and shepherd, temple and priesthood—never cattle and rancher. Yes, Abraham was “very rich in cattle, in silver, and in gold,” and Solomon sacrificed 22,000 bulls for the dedication of the temple; however, these riches are described and do not imply a relationship. Our extensive and legendary relationship with the Lord God is that of Shepherd and sheep. David epitomized this in his wonderful psalm, which we call the Shepherd’s Psalm, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” 

The Rancher desires herds too numerous to be counted, the shepherd knows his sheep by name, and they know him. The cattlemen drive their cattle, the shepherd leads. Shepherd and sheep lie down to rest and rise to find water and grass. While the rancher’s strength is found in the riches of numbers, the shepherd's is in the intimate bond forged between him and those over whom he watches. The rancher sees thousands, as the speaker said, the shepherd misses the one. These observations are not casually connected to who we are; they are an essential part of who we are.

Hidden within the word rancher as proclaimed by the conference speaker, is the CEO/Entrepreneur model that has taken ministry by storm under the label of leadership. Pastoral gifts have essentially become forgotten as churches, all hoping to become mega, look for ranchers/leaders, not shepherds.  A generation of young pastors looked to Eugene Peterson for reminders of a role that had largely been forgotten. The vocation of pastor has been replaced by the strategies of religious entrepreneurs with business plans. The result is bloated churches that lack depth beyond the constantly evolving marketing platforms used to attract them, and a clergy that has become adept at giving them what they want —a church in which they can take pride. Due to its size and apparent success, the ranch/church holds a prominent standing in the community, alongside other institutions of power and prestige. In America, we often look for the number of cars in a parking lot to decide whether to eat at a particular restaurant or attend a church service.  Eugene Peterson wrote, “I was astonished to learn in one of these best-selling books (on church life) that the size of my church parking lot had far more to do with how things fared in my congregation than my choice of texts in preaching. I was being lied to, and I knew it.”   I recall sitting in several pastors’ meetings through the years when the parking lot size, location (preferably within sight of a street or highway), and designated areas took a significant part of the agenda, and I, along with others, listened intently. We took notes and applied that knowledge because we did not think improving earthly tabernacles was wrong, and we could not see far enough down the road to ask hard questions. 

Holy men and compassionate shepherds stepped aside for men and women who knew how to get things done quickly and, above all else, with excellence. It wasn’t that those who rose in the ranks were less holy or dedicated to the Lord; it’s that they mixed the medium of ministry to get water from the rock. Closely following cultural trends, the medium has overwhelmed the message. Hence, the message is more human and less divine. It is of such a mixture that our churches are becoming sterile, birthing people into a relationship with the vision and mission of the church. 

Jeremiah prophesied:

 "Woe to the shepherds who are destroying and scattering the sheep of my pasture!" declares the Lord.  Therefore this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says to the shepherds who tend my people: "Because you have scattered my flock and driven them away and have not bestowed care on them, I will bestow punishment on you for the evil you have done," declares the Lord.  Jeremiah 23:1-3

I pray shepherds will be restored to the church once again.

Appropriate Smallness

Samuel said, “Is it not true, though you were little in your own eyes, you were made the head of the tribes of Israel? And the Lord anointed you, king over Israel’   1 Samuel 15:17

THE CHURCH MUST ONCE AGAIN ADOPT HUMILITY AS A KEY VIRTUE in the KINGDOM of GOD. The “pride of Life” is stalking every believer in a society baptized in social media, which creates a false reality. This unreal reality wars against everything that is a natural expression of the kingdom, especially the appropriate smallness of the prayer closet where Jesus calls for us to:

But you, when you pray, go into your inner room, close your door, and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you. Matthew 6:6

We are guilty of trading the smallness of the prayer room or closet that brings great victory for the vastness of social media, which yields little. In our pursuit of success, it’s much easier to announce it to the world rather than whisper it to God, which undermines the principle illustrated in Johnathan’s life that “the Lord is not restrained to save by many or by few.” 1 SAMUEL 14:6

This shift has caused major havoc in the church, as sheep no longer find rest in this sacred shepherd/sheep relationship, while “ranchers” are vaunted into stardom and then broken after a swift descent.  The close familial bond broken, the sheep are further victimized as Jeremiah describes, “My people have been lost sheep; their shepherds have led them astray and caused them to roam on the mountains. They wandered over mountain and hill   and forgot their own resting place.” Jeremiah 50:6

Return

Once, you were like sheep who wandered away.

But now you have turned to your Shepherd, the Guardian of your souls. 1 Peter 2:25

 

God’s sheep have been scattered. Many of them wandered away because their shepherd became a rancher and didn’t realize they were missing. Others fled because of attacks from predators and the ranchers who monetized and, at times, abused them.

How will they come back to the fold and enter again into peaceful pasture?  

Part Two Next 

 

 

Good News For Christmas

 Good News for Christmas

Several years ago, I went through a Great Courses study entitled, The Other Side of History: Daily Life in the Ancient World, taught by Professor Robert Garland of Colgate University. The study provided a very informative look at how those who were less privileged (the other side) lived in ancient times. One lecture entitled “Being Christian under Roman Rule” caught my attention. The following quote is taken word-for-word from Dr. Garland. 

“What would have attracted you to becoming a Christian? Here for the first time was a religion that was not judging you by the size of your wallet, or your status in society, or your gender, or your ethnicity. The pagan gods were out and out snobs. The more you gave them, the more they were likely to listen to you. The Christian God was not like that at all. He will listen to your prayers no matter what, so long as you are truly penitent. He will actually love you. What God has ever loved you before? In fact, if you were born poor, or downtrodden, or despised, or sick, he will look on you with special favor… And if it doesn’t work out for you in this life, you can look forward to salvation in the world to come. So, you, “the other side of history,” now move to the fore.”

Jesus said, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God” (Luke 6:20), and “the Spirit of the Lord is on me because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Luke 4:18-19

The words of Jesus are Good News. They proclaim God’s peace and favor to those (poor, downtrodden, insignificant) on the other side of history. Announced by the heavenly host at the birth of Jesus, these words continue to ring out during this Christmas season! 

 

 

Whatever Shall We Do?

Whatever Shall We Do?

“When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Phillip, “Where shall we buy bread for all these people to eat?” He asked this only to test him, for he already had it in mind what he was going to do.” John 6:5-6

This scripture invokes some intriguing questions about when and how God tests his children. Even with these possible questions, we are assured that he has a solution for the problem of too many and not enough before he even asks this question of his disciples. Confident that he will meet the needs of the people, the question becomes, who will he use to bring about the miracle of multiplication?  

Recently, I heard my pastor paraphrase Jesus’ words. With a little lilt in his voice, he accentuated the word “Whatever” by couching it in a tone of divine resignation and despair… “all this need-all of this brokenness, whatever shall we do?”

 

The sing-song cadence of the question reminds us that this is not a one-off question but a perennial one. It is one for the disciples and one that is posed to every friend of God. How, when, where shall we…so all these people can eat?”  Although Jesus knew what he would do, the answer is found not in “he” but in “we”!  In his relational sovereignty, he sees a solution that involves a partnership of faith, which delights his father and brings significance to every human co-laborer. 

Yes, I have heard the same question many times! Have you? This question should be taught as a complete course in pastoral training. And yet, this passage will not impact you if you are merely looking at your congregation or your family. Pare down the 5,000 men to a room full, and you may begin to feed them all. Or keep the 5,000 and cut down on kingdom expectations. Expect less. Feed them a snack, not a meal. If those will not work for you, turn the question and the responsibility over to the gathered masses. Say to them, “Where is your faith. You have not because you ask not in faith!” If you opt for one of these responses, you will never hear Jesus saying, “Where can we…” or “Whatever can we do?” You, then, will be safe and secure, but God will not find his partner in faith in you.

Yes, I have failed in assuming my role in this partnership of faith. I have looked at the numbers, stared at the needs, and been stupefied by my numbness to it all. If I could characterize my failures, I would say that I couldn’t see the little boy for the 5,000 plus who were hungry. Looking back at these partnerships, kingdom success came when I let the numbers push me toward smaller solutions.

Utilizing smaller solutions to combat big problems and monstrous needs is the way of the creator. It is seeding the earth with a lowly born child to populate an eternal kingdom. In nature, it is seen in the tiniest microbe that fixes the soil so a mighty redwood forest can flourish, and plankton, the base of the oceans’ food chain, and the earth’s major supplier of oxygen. Accepting the limitations of what you have on hand and adding the unlimited potential of faith as small as a mustard seed, we can begin the process of dynamic change. Jesus leaves the ninety-nine and goes after the one because everything starts with one. Does he have compassion toward the one? Yes. But never doubt the dual purposes found in his creative genius. 

If Satan can deceive you with the facts, he will. Are we so enamored with “big” that if we can’t start that way, we go home?  Pentecost brought two incidents of mass salvations, but that trend did not continue further in the Early Church.  It is a story of spiritual influence, not political power. In fact, when we do see political power active in the church of the fourth century, we see it as being detrimental to the true church of Jesus Christ. This small-is-large principle was illustrated in The Revenge of the Tipping Point. Gladwell notes that the percentage needed for significant social change is about 25%, a tipping point at which a minority can influence a majority to adopt a new norm. This threshold is not fixed and can shift, but a committed minority of approximately 25% can be enough to trigger an abrupt, rapid shift in the overall group's behavior.

Years ago, I met with a church that had maintained the same number of congregants for many years. Given the small number, the church set a goal of twenty new converts, which was double their number. After so many years of absolutely no conversion or other growth, I tried to persuade them to replace that goal. Instead of twenty, I asked them to set a goal of one disciple. They should focus on helping one person become a Christ follower. I lost track of them, but I pray they were able to reach that one and experience a “loaves and fishes” miracle. 

Our future is not that of giant corporations and huge conglomerates, which we no longer trust. The national government seems unable to understand the concerns or address the problems in the homes and communities where we live. The future is not in the super farms owned and operated by chemical companies but in the small acreages of regenerative farmers who know their land as well as they understand the market. It is found in small churches that can see the one as well as the ninety-nine.  

Whatever shall we do about the significant issues and needs of the day? Does racial hatred and prejudice seem so universal that we normalized its existence? Is war inevitable, and a culture of sexual excess, violence, and self-worship without remedy? We have the resources in hand if we will forge partnerships of faith built around things as small as a boy and his lunch. Look for him!

 

 

 

 

The Itch that Can't be Scratched

A mystery nagged at my imagination for years. While in college in Florida, the hot, humid weather and heavy denim jeans combined made me think I had solved that ancient riddle. Almost but not quite. Ringworm could be scratched, but not always with the best results! 

I found it in my bible reading as a boy. It was a warning to Israel about disobedience, and the consequences described there are dire. One of them, the itch that cannot be (scratched) cured, was particularly horrifying:

"The Lord will afflict you with the boils of Egypt and with tumors, festering sores, and the itch, from which you cannot be cured." Deuteronomy 27:27 

Those curses prescribed by God for lack of faith and bad behavior all sounded brutal, but for a boy who was nearly a professional scratcher, having an itch that a good pawing couldn't cure was unthinkable. Boys and old men itch. A good scratching is both a relief and a joy! 

Camp Cherokee had one of the best swimming lakes ever. The water was deep, cold, and clear. The only thing missing was a place to put clothing and towels while enjoying the refreshment. No problem for us, boy campers, we hung everything up in the low-lying branches of some adjacent trees and enjoyed our swim. As we returned to our cabins to prepare for the evening meal and nightly service, the biting began. Our clothes had been safe except for an evil invention called chiggers, the bane of every self-respecting blackberry picker. These tiny insects inject their saliva into a person's skin, which dissolves the flesh, allowing the chigger to feast on the resulting soup. They are nasty little cruds who delight in getting into covered, private, sensitive places to set up their picnic grounds. The result is they bite you where you cannot scratch in public. Nothing itches worse. And nothing ravishes the tender flesh of youth like chiggers. Bumps, rashes, blisters, and pus follow their bites and leave a person almost crazy with the desire to scratch. That evening meal and preaching service in a hot, un-air-conditioned building was a nightmare from hell for the boys. It was as bad as you could get, but chigger bites could still be scratched, and a week-long application of calamine lotion could do wonders to bring some relief! The mystery remained unknown, but it lingered as a question through the years. 

Boys and Old Men Scratch

That night, the boys of Camp Cherokee gave a classic demonstration of scratching private areas in public. I have never encountered chiggers again, but as a man ages, he gets itchier, and scratching once again becomes a vital part of any given day. If you deal with neuropathy, nighttime also becomes a high-risk period. Once, I developed an increasingly itchy inner ear that I couldn't scratch. I told a doctor about it, so he investigated the canal and discovered that a werewolf-like hair had decided to grow in rather than out and was doing a fantastic job of imitating a bug while there. Tweezers to the rescue!

The mystery continued to be intact until a spot just below my great toe of my left foot woke me from my deep sleep. I had become familiar with numbness, creepy-crawlers, and sharp-shooting pains, but I was unprepared for what I experienced between the toes and the ball of my foot that night. The mystery of Deuteronomy 27:27 was solved, and I discovered the itch that could not be scratched-an internal, unrelievable itch that only God can heal. It was itching inside my toe, and I couldn't bring any relief by scratching it! I applied pain creams and read up on Neuropathic Itch until I was able to fall into slumber again. I am thankful that that itch has only 'come to pass,' as people say, in other trying situations. Otherwise, it would be nearly unbearable, reminding me of the deep spiritual needs we all have that only Christ can satisfy.

A Cure for the Itch that Cannot be Scratched

During my lifelong search to understand what Moses was describing in Deuteronomy, I realized this itch symbolizes an inner spiritual need that outward remedies can't satisfy. He needs a savior, but instead, takes a drug or buys a new car. Rather than a spiritual cure, he or she seeks out the easiest and possibly quickest fix. But a heart itch cannot be scratched! It is an ache that only God can heal. Jesus could have said, "Come unto me, all who are itchy and heavily laden, and I will give you rest."

So, what should you do if you wake up at 2 am with an itching toe? First, thank God that it is only one toe! Secondly, fight back by showing gratitude that it is only your toe, not your heart, that itches! Finally, remind yourself of the blessings in Deuteronomy 28 found in Christ rather than the curses of  Deuteronomy 27 found in an unredeemed world of itches that cannot be scratched.

Detained at Fort Benning

By the time I arrived in Columbus, Georgia to pastor Evangel Church, Miss Aimie Hurston Loats had arrived at her eightieth year of life and was the sole remaining charter member. Still spry and active, Miss Aimie taught a children’s Sunday School class which she had done since 1934 and would continue to do until her death in 2004. At the time of her earthly departure following a tragic fall in her driveway she had been continuously teaching children for seventy years. 

Aimie was a living window into the past, allowing me to see what it meant to grow up in a Georgia Assemblies of God church. Her family was woven into the fabric of God’s work in the Southeastern U.S. and around the world. On one occasion as we sat together in my office, she felt compelled to tell me about an incident from her teenage years. Our church had a long history of relationship with Fort Benning which was located a short distance south of the church. During those days, in the mid to late 30’s, the church evangelism team would visit the base to speak to the soldiers and leave copies of the Pentecostal Evangel. 

On this visit Miss Aimie said they were going about reaching out to whomever would stop and listen when a big, uniformed MP rounded them all up into an empty room and locked them inside after telling them to remain in place. Mrs. Loats, a teenager at that time recalled a feeling of apprehension as they waited there. In short order a sergeant joined them and holding a copy of the Evangel, asked if they were “handing this out” on base. The church group’s leader said yes and that it was something they used to tell others about Jesus.

The officer responded by telling the group the army was aware of articles written there that were anti-war and unpatriotic in rhetoric. He then closed the door and left the room. They were in the room for nearly thirty minutes when an Army Captain looked through the glass door panel and recognized people, he attended church with. He immediately went to the officer involved in their detainment and asked that the group be released, all the while vouching for their love of country. That was my introduction to the fact that the AG had pacifist leanings during its first thirty to forty years of existence. During the first world war, it was classified by the United States government as a denomination which qualified to have its members listed as conscientious objectors and non-combative enlistees. From what Aimie could recall, the previous copy Evangel had featured an article that contained what appeared to them as anti- war sentiments. 

Later I recalled reading that many young men from AG churches were propelled into the Army by sermons revealing that Hitler was the Antichrist and Mussolini the false prophet who propelled him to power. They joined to literally fight against these evil forces physically as well as spiritually. Aimie’s story was my first exposure to the pacifist period of my fellowship’s history. By the time of my studies for ministry and subsequent ordination collective memory of that part of our history had been all but erased.  

 

Did You Enjoy the Worship Service?

 The first thing I encountered as I re-entered local church ministry was the lack of steady church attendance, which made gaining momentum nearly impossible. Growing from twenty into forty was so tricky! 

Jane and I planted our first church in a small SC town on July 4, 1976. It was just the two of us for a few months after the opening service. Gradually, people began to attend. Not many, mind you. We lived in a small town with no advertising budget, and both lived and worked jobs an hour away. But when they began to attend, they tended to be faithful. That was before "your best life now" and "bucket lists" became standard in the Christian experience. Heaven was a huge concern for even the young, and the steady pursuit of spiritual matters was easier.

The American church has long been on a downward spiral in attendance. COVID-19, which taught people it was not mandatory to be physically present for worship, and a cultural emphasis on individual journeys, has reduced regular attendees to a tiny fraction of the congregation. Of course, much of our preaching, which emphasizes finding your personalized dream journey, strengthens today's numbers only to weaken tomorrow as people search out the perfect church to help them realize who they are. So, the church's main occupation is assisting people to find what will make them happy. A common question asked after Sunday worship is, "Did you enjoy the service?" That is very telling.

Happiness is good, but in reducing everything to obtain it, what remains is a virulent self-ness that chokes out everything else. The pursuit of happiness is often run alone because it seeks its own. It leaves the seeker alone, while most are not hardwired to live solitary lives. You can see social media selfies, but they never feel the warmth of a lingering embrace. We need to belong. We need to feel necessary, even if that leads us through hardship and struggle. To disconnect from our community to be content is to invite boredom, depression, and death. From there, it is a short stumble toward suicide.

The Pulpit: Aiding and Abetting

And here's the thing. America's pulpits have joined the world's voices and are singing the same song. We lift our voices and add the word "real" to the much sought-after happiness. Whereas the world addresses each person's "authentic self," the pulpits of America join with "real authentic self." We want to Christianize the journey to true freedom by saying it's what you have been looking for and more! This strategy helps everyone find comfort as we all sing the same song and want the same thing. Everyone wants to be happy. The problem is that Jesus shows up but doesn't dance to that tune, leaving those seeking self-fulfillment hungry and having received enough of God to immunize them from more significant infection. How do we exit this maze?

Although the problem may seem small, what should we do? 

Smoked Meat, Country Music, and Church

 

Trips through the South Carolina Low Country with my dad at the wheel included multiple forays into the parking lots of any place that advertised barbecue. Dad never trusted the signs out front, so stops consisted of my dad driving or walking around the back of little blocked and wood-framed buildings in nondescript places to see where the cooking took place. We would immediately drive away without a smoker and a stack of wood. He was a purist about smoked meats and old-school country music. The music part meant we listened to many songs by Ernest Tubb, Hank Snow, and Jim Reeves. The barbecue thing caused us to go hungry at times while on trips. I’m afraid my love for Ferlin Husky’s music never took hold, but the barbecue was a different story. I, too, look for smokers out back or another initial evidence: smoke!  

 Before a barbecue restaurant can serve the best meat, it and everything about it must smell the part. It doesn’t need to look nice, and sides are pretty optional. Meat, sauce, and white bread, and if the cooking is outstanding, leave off the sauce! The billowing cloud coming from a brick chimney or metal pipe on the roof told the tale. Optimum conditions demand that smoke deeply penetrate the floors, walls, ceiling, and furnishings. The experience is enhanced even more if everyone in the place smells like hickory, oak, and pecan.

I have a friend from the Midwest who was writing on Sacred Spaces for his Ph.D. project. I never read the paper but confessed to being intrigued by the subject. Combining my thoughts concerning barbecue with my thoughts on church yields an interesting parallel. Revelation 5:8 likens the prayers of saints to bowls full of incense in the hands of heavenly creatures who surround the throne of the Lamb of God. Prayers are incense that fills the houses where we worship with the scent of heaven. I have visited places of worship that contained a sense of the holy, not because of the architecture or the sign out front but due to the prayers of saints.

After her trip to the British Isles, I heard a Seminary professor describe particular “thin places,” which is how Celts describe spots where the distance between heaven and earth is reduced, and the veil that separates has faded. I have been to similar places that have been made so, not due to their location, but by sacred activity. I believe God is everywhere, but his presence is more significant in areas where he is worshiped, and his name praised.

I believe that we desperately need those places filled with the smoke, cloud, and fire of his presence, and like my dad, we must search until we find them. Don’t stop at the sign out front; be prepared to go hungry if necessary. These sacred places must bear the cloud of his presence and the marks of people who have offered themselves on an altar that leaves them smelling like the incense of heaven.

 We Should Be Shocked

Why, they even set up obscene god and goddess statues in the Temple built in my honor—an outrageous desecration! And then they went out and built shrines to the god Baal in the valley of Hinnom, where they burned their children in sacrifice to the god Molech—I can hardly conceive of such evil!—turning the whole country into one huge act of sin. Jeremiah 32:35 The Message

 

When dealing with sin and sinners, I often thought it better to be shockproof. If I was not surprised by sin, I could deal with it without emotions clouding the picture. Maybe I felt that calmly folding my hands and tilting my head to the side while saying, "Nothing surprises me," was a more sophisticated and intellectual posture, knowing the universality of evil and the depravity of man. Did having such an approach to human weakness give me an edge of some type? Or was it more indicative of something I lost and needed to rediscover in my spiritual life? And further, if God was shocked at the sinfulness of his people how could I live a shockproof life?

                                                               Face to Face

(Now Moses was a very humble man, more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth.)  With him I speak face to face, clearly and not in riddles; he sees the form of the Lord.  Numbers 12:3,8 NIV

 

As a young pastor, I attended one of our yearly Council meetings. At the close of an afternoon service, we were encouraged to pray and confess our faults to someone in the room to bring healing. I was seated in a sparsely populated, introvert section of the auditorium, but a gentleman I did not know approached me from across the room. He placed his hand on my shoulder, and after a brief greeting, we prayed. His humility and what I felt was a heartfelt prayer encouraged me. Older and more accomplished in his walk with the Lord, he confessed his faults to me and had me pray for him just as he did for me. After the meeting, the facilitator dismissed us, and we introduced ourselves. I was surprised that I had been praying with the keynote speaker, G Raymond Carlson, newly elected General Superintendent of the Assemblies of God! I'm glad I did not know who he was because I wouldn't have confessed anything more than "I got mad at a friend once." As a young pastor of a small congregation, I was shocked. Quiet, not commanding in physique or attitude, He didn't fit the part of the evolving CEO model of leadership I had begun to see.

Two years later, I would see Superintendent Carlson again on a television newscast during a scandal that had engulfed another of our superstar ministers. As the General Presbytery moved toward defrocking the well-known evangelist, a camera crew caught up with Carlson outside the headquarters building. I cannot remember exactly what words my elder statesman spoke, but I do remember the humility and brokenness with which he spoke. Maybe that North Dakota-born pastor was a great actor before the camera lens, or perhaps he was the same person I had met years before, and his tears were out of shock and dismay at what played out before him during the hearing. Perhaps, unlike me and many others, the horror of sin could still hit this man of peace very hard. 

Jesus said, "Blessed are they who mourn." We must corporately mourn the loss of closeness to the heart of God, a separation that allows us to isolate what happens on earth from God. Comprehending sin outside of His presence will cause us to react in a way foreign to God. Was God not aware of Molech? Did he have to inquire who that false god was and what he required the worshiper to do? I think not! God's mind or heart knew of Molech and those who passed through his fire. What could not enter his mind was that His people would worship this god of child immolation. Jeremiah prophesied against it because being in God's presence comforted and distressed him. His proximity to the Lord made him "feel with" him so that he would cry out against such depravity, not in self-righteousness but in divine agony.

At the 1984 National Prayer Breakfast, President Ronald Reagan recounted the story of how one man's shock and dismay at the Colosseum's inhumanity ended one of the national pastimes of the Romans:

 "The story goes back to the year 404 AD – a monk named Telemachus followed a crowd into the Colosseum, where he saw the gladiators come forth, stand before the Emperor, and say, 'We who are about to die salute you.' And he realized they were going to fight to the death for the entertainment of the crowds. He cried out, 'In the Name of Christ, stop!' And his voice was lost in the tumult there in the great Colosseum…

As the games began, the crowds saw this scrawny little figure making his way out to the gladiators in the arena, repeatedly saying, 'In the Name of Christ, stop!' And they thought it was part of the entertainment, and at first they were amused. But then, when they realized it wasn't, they grew belligerent and angry…

And as he was pleading with the gladiators, 'In the Name of Christ, stop!' one of them plunged his sword into his body. And as he fell to the sand of the arena in death, his last words were, 'In the Name of Christ, stop!' And suddenly, a strange thing happened. The gladiators stood looking at this tiny form lying in the sand. A silence fell over the Colosseum. And then, someplace up in the upper tiers, an individual made his way to an exit and left, and the others began to follow. And in the dead silence, everyone left the Colosseum. That was the last battle to the death between gladiators in the Roman Colosseum. Never again did anyone kill, nor did men kill each other for entertainment.

One tiny voice that could hardly be heard above the crowd. 'In the Name of Christ, stop!' It is something we could be saying to each other throughout the whole world."

 

 

The Disquieting Presence

Telemachus had lived as a hermit, spending his days and nights praying and in acts of devotion. He delighted in practicing the presence of God. His name meant "far-distance fighter," which was the opposite of who he was until that fateful day of faithfulness to God. One of the significant focal points of the present-day church is in teachings on the "Presence of God." Sermons and testimonies point to the many delights in dwelling in his presence. Words associated with presence are powerful, peace, joy, holy, and comfort. I know how to be comforted in his presence but am not often enough disquieted. To be disquieted is to be disturbed and perplexed, along with God, because our standard is fixed in and by fellowship with Him. I sensed in my prayer time with the General Superintendent that he was no stranger to prayer and that prayer moved him into the disquieting presence of God. He prayed aloud for my benefit. A whisper would have been enough if I had not been present, as Jesus was so near him. He was a soft-spoken prophet who took my transgression, as well as his own, as personal affronts to our Lord, and because of his humility, I did not feel put down. On the contrary, I felt a freeing breeze enveloping my soul as he spoke with God.

How do we get to that place in the presence of the Lord?

Firstly, we must ensure Christ is present in and through the sacred words he has given us. The presence of God based on anything else is fantasy and will reflect a wrong image of our King. His word reveals a God who is shocked by evil and made angry (2 Kings 17:18) by sin. Through his word, allow yourself to rejoice, sing, and even be angry. During your quiet time, ask questions like, "Should I run with this word?" or "How can I serve your cause and heal their brokenness." At times, he may ask you to bring much-needed intercession; at other times, he may give you an assigned action. Whatever he tells you, do it.

One Sunday night, my college roommate and I sat transfixed by the preaching of Dr Karl Strader. I had never heard a man preach that I wanted to believe any more than him. We were immersed in the presence of the Lord that night. Since we had not eaten before we went to the evening service, our usual routine was to hurry back to campus to get something to eat from the canteen before it closed. But on that night, we felt different. We had gathered with many others to pray at the service end, and when we started to exit the building, Ervin and I said, "Let's go witness!" almost simultaneously. We drove to the Publix Market Plaza near the church, and forgetting about the canteen, we talked with anyone who came near about Jesus. That night, we both asked, "What can I do?"

Secondly, when posturing yourself in God's presence, the only agenda must be his agenda, which you will receive by listening. Enter a listening room of prayer, and do not superimpose any other images before him. Check your thoughts about what and how he will work at the door so he may take you into unvisited places. Let Him disturb you by his holiness and he may push you right over into the blood-soaked sands of the arena or to pray with a person who is in a desert place. 

 Though You Are Small

"But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times."

Micah 5:2

The mission of God is so vitally important to churches. When a church veers off the path of hearing and doing, the result is aimless wandering, which results in death in the desert. As a young church planter, I knew this intuitively. Our whole church could fit in a large closet, and we were dirt road poor, but if I had anything to do with it, we would stay on mission. Our mission explained in one word is, "others." I had read an account years before of Salvation Army founder General William Booth, a man whose faithfulness and character I wished to emulate. On Christmas Eve in 1910, the General was ill and within months of his death. His weakened state had prevented him from attending the Army's annual convention. Booth decided to send a telegram greeting instead of going himself, to encourage his "troops" who had labored so tirelessly through the winter cold. As usual, the Army had limited funds, and lengthy telegrams cost more. General Booth thought back through the years to craft a one-word message so that the monies they did have could continue helping the needy.

As the many delegates to the convention gathered, the convention's moderator stood to bring greetings from their beloved leader. The message was on a small slip of paper. It read: "Others!"

Though we were small, our mission was others! I had preached from Micah 5:2 in the morning service on Christmas Eve. That night we gathered to deliver help and Christmas cheer to an elderly couple caring for their ten grandchildren. The children's parents died in a tragic automobile accident. Our small band collected money, food, toys, clothes, and shoes as these were the items that our local social services person had suggested. A remarkable thing in those days was that when we did something, everyone in the church attended. No one thought, "this isn't for me" or "they don't need me." We met at our rented community building, loaded our three vehicles' trunks with our store, and headed out to an isolated rural home. It was a throwback to many older houses I had seen in South Carolina during my boyhood. The house stood with a high profile in a swept yard under two massive oak trees' shelter. Its wooden steps lead up to a wrap-around porch. At one time, it had been considered a lovely house. Now it was showing its age, just like those who lived there. I knocked on its door, opened by an older man who turned to call his wife. They both welcomed us in, but with the late hour and our need to unload, I thanked them and said, "we would love to, but it is after eight and very cold, so if it is all right, we will unload and have a prayer with you. The couple consented and said that we could bring our gifts in and set them "here" on the floor. The front door had opened into the center hall where the heater stood. Even devoid of furnishings, which was an essential room in a house like that. I knew because I had spent many days lying in front of a heater during the holidays looking at the Sears Christmas catalog.

 Looking into that space also revealed numerous doors leading to a kitchen and all the house's bedrooms.  We first brought in the groceries, which the grandparents quickly helped us carry to the kitchen table and cabinets. Next, we moved in the toys stacking them together on the floor. One of the most unusual things about our Christmas Eve visit was that they had ten children, and we had not heard a peep from them. Nor had we seen any of them. At the same time, I had the notion that every visible doorknob probably had a little hand wrapped around it on the door's opposite side. The lady at our County Social Services Department had told us that the children needed clothing and shoes more than anything else, so we went all out to meet that need. Our small team of "elves" started carrying the boxes of clothes and putting the shoes nearby on the floor. Most of the time, they would carry things up the stairs and then hand them to me as I stood at the door of the house. It was so cold that I kept the door closed as much as possible. I remember putting a couple of pairs of shoes down on the floor, but when I went back in with the next load, they had disappeared. The same thing happened when I came back the next time, so I laid several pairs out and returned to the porch. This time though, I cracked the door so that I could quietly watch the shoes. As soon as I left the room, I watched several doors open at once, and as quickly and quietly as mice, the shoes exited the room being carried by children who had the biggest smiles on their faces. I motioned for the others to join me at the door as we unloaded the remainder of the shoes so they could watch those doors open and our gifts disappear. I cried a little that night for Joe and Margaret and those ten children who needed shoes more than they wanted toys. We prayed and wiped tears with the grandparents before we drove back to our homes. The tender memories of this night in the late seventies are with me today, and I hope they will always remain.

It is so vital that no matter the size, you and your church remain on the mission of God. "Don't look down on small beginnings," and don't quit because of weakness or tiredness. Stopping will lead to fear and malaise, and faithless behavior. Death haunts the desert places of disobedience.  Though, as a church, we were small, on that night, we were not insignificant. We had started living for others, and over the years, our church grew with the others who helped reach still others. Our church grew because as our hearts grew, God filled them with many gifts of His tender mercies and grace. My wife and I, along with our church of ten people, will never forget the magic doors in that house, which opened to show us how we could make a difference in our corner of the world!  

 The Hidden Treasures of Church Planting

At heart, I suppose I am and will always be a church planter. New converts and freshly minted churches are the lifeblood of our faith. I planted my first church in 1976 because that was what my hands found to do for Jesus. In subsequent years, I became more invested in this calling. Planting churches can be hard obedience. It will stretch your faith to the point of breaking while at the same time working spiritual muscles that few other things can or will. I would compare it at times to running backward! (Don't try either alone) I consider those days of "small beginnings" as the most formative and productive in a ministry that has spanned over forty-six years. In ancient crop-growing language, I saw things increase by thirty, sixty, and a hundred-fold. I learned lessons of commitment, faith, and God's unfailing love that I could never know in any other way. Now, so many years later, my wife and I are worshiping with a ridiculously young and talented group of twenty and thirty-somethings in a new church plant. I pray they will have the same experience of blessing.

I am sure you know that church planting is not only a spiritual self-improvement activity. Even with all its benefits, it has to be more than that. It is an irreplaceable building block in the work of God for the world. Martin Luther said, "Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree." We must have the same attitude for church planting because, as Warren Buffett says, "Someone's sitting in the shade today because someone planted a tree a long time ago."

God is everywhere, but in some places, He is greater. Every newly planted church becomes a place where heaven meets earth, and it is at the Father's footstool we worship. There is no better place to be or experience to have. There is no better way to define church planting than with the words accompanying: go, others, and presence.

 I grew up singing, "I'll Go Where You Want Me to Go, Dear Lord," so I arrived at the mission of Pentecost quite naturally. In a culture seemingly enthralled with adventure, "go" seems an enjoyable command to hear, and it is except for different reasons. "Adventure" is about collecting pleasurable experiences and pleasant memories in an invisible bucket so that you won't miss a thing in life. Mission is about having been found by someone who heard "go" and refused to say "no." It is also about never forgetting so that you keep going to tell one more person about God. My wife tried on winter boots while shopping with my family in Williston, Vermont. A sales lady spotted me perched in a chair nearby. Looking me in the eyes, she asked, "Are you on a mission or just looking?" "Just looking," I replied as I pointed to my wife, "but that lady over there is serious." Congregation planting is serious work. Full of adventure, yes, but so is tackling a 250-pound hog. A word of experience, don't try that, it's not fun! It is serious because starting new churches means going deeper into the Devil's Den. Warning! It would be best if you didn't go unless you are ready to leave some things behind.

Jesus commanded those he sent out to travel lightly, carrying neither "a purse, bag, or sandals."  Luke 10:3-4 Go and make the going to others of the utmost importance. The more baggage, the more care, the more care, the less we share with those for whom we travel. General William Booth, the Salvation Army founder, had his life's motto the one word, "others." It was the word on his lips when he addressed the worldwide Army gathering for the last time by telegram, and it left a profound impact on his followers and their disciples. For years, the church of Jesus has concentrated on the same 40% of the population already connected. But God is sending us to others who are "hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places." Isaiah 45:3  If we go to these "others," the Lord will give them to us.

As a church planter, I realized the poor worked the fields' edges to glean something left to eat after harvest. Likewise, the assemblies we need to plant are in "the ghettos of Lo-debar," where outsiders reside and where there is no pasture, no word, or communication. 2 Samuel 9:4 There is a Mephibosheth there who has an appointment made by mercy to dine with the King. Saul's grandson had come from a privileged background, but he lived broken and in shame on the other side of the tracks. Mephibosheth was shown mercy because of David's love for his father, Jonathan. Others will experience grace and mercy because of our love for Jesus as we go.

Being other-minded will facilitate others' inclusion into the life-giving benefits of covenant community; seeks to find a path, build a bridge, or open the door to those frequently left out of the spiritual community for any reason.

 To go to others invites the presence of the Lord in some unexpected ways. The Psalmist, whose priority was the presence of God in worship, said, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Ps. 34:18  In thinking of the presence of God, most Christians focus on large crowds, powerful praise, and Spirit-empowered preaching. But the Psalmist gives us an upside view of where God resides in saving power; he is near to those who are broken and crushed, those others who can't check the boxes marked: saved, sanctified, and filled with the Holy Spirit. I can recall numerous times through the years when I sat at my desk or in my car alone and wept at the goodness of God shown in the lives of broken and hurting persons. Those were Holy moments where God seemed to say to the spiritual Hagars of life, "I see you," and because I was standing close enough, I felt his gaze and touch. Doing "Church" can get old, but the nail-pierced hands of Jesus never!

Perhaps Charles Studd understood that proximity to the broken and lost is the means to divine presence when he said, "Some wish to live within the sound of a chapel bell; I want to run a rescue shop within a yard of Hell." Grasping this truth will revolutionize our evangelism and discipleship efforts. Many seek His presence by shutting everything else out and shutting themselves alone with God, but for Jesus, those were only pitstops as he ran to the broken and lost. His glory is not found beneath a spire or shut up in a closet; in redeemed man, we best see His goodness, mercy, and compassion.

Go! In doing so, you will find others who will allow you to embrace God's presence in ways not possible alone.