Wed, Aug 25, 2010 2:04 PM
Fri, Aug 20, 2010 10:16 AM
Fri, Aug 20, 2010 9:38 AM
A few weeks ago I stood with my mother at Dad’s grave in the city of Winnipeg, Canada. It was the first time I had been back since we buried him there six years ago. My Mom, 83, is still quite active. It meant a lot to share this graveside moment with her, although we both found the experience strangely surreal.
Mom’s words captured it best — “It’s like he’s not here.” Biblically she was right. Dad, who loved Jesus, is more than a decaying body in a cemetery somewhere on the Canadian prairies. He is right now in the presence of God. His new address is Paradise and he is awaiting the actual resurrection of his decaying body. The ultimate triumph of Christ’s cross and empty tomb is the defeat of death itself!
As a pastor I have stood at many gravesides. In those bitingly painful moments I have often observed to grieving families that this is when our faith either means everything or it means nothing. Either we are locked into the temporary dimension of what we can see, or we have a faith that liberates us to walk in the eternal realities of what we cannot see.
Scripture goes to great lengths to describe the difference between what is temporary and what is eternal, and how that difference affects what we focus on. “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” (II Corinthians 4:18).
Faith always focuses us on the eternal “unseen,” not the temporary “seen.” This, in turn, makes our hope unshakable. Focusing on ever-changing, temporary realities actually enslaves us to those same fickle realities. Hope built on the unseen liberates and stabilizes us. When the eternal defines us we can live with a sustaining hope that brings perspective, comfort, security — and even joy!
“It’s like he’s not here,” Mom said. She was right. So, Lord, lift all of our eyes today to the eternal unseen and a heart-securing, unshakable hope.
Mon, Aug 16, 2010 9:54 AM
Winston Churchill was possibly the greatest political leader of the 20th century, a modern day Cyrus of sorts. He loved the hymns of the Church of England and professed a belief in Christianity, although perhaps not in the evangelical sense we would understand it. Yet his passion for good against evil, his soaring rhetoric and his strategic genius inspired England and the free world to face unsurmountable odds and defeat the Nazi killing machine.
What was the key to Churchill’s ability to inspire? Oxford philosopher Isaiah Berlin answers this way — Churchill idealized the English people “with such intensity that in the end they approached his ideal and began to see themselves as he saw them.” In doing so, he “transformed cowards into brave men and so fulfilled the purpose of shining armour.”
Churchill lived with what in his time was a fairly old fashioned vision of the glory of the British people, who proudly belonged to the ‘Empire upon which the sun never sets.’ In 1939, most of the English population did not see themselves that way. They just wanted to make a living and avoid at all costs another war like WWI. But, Berlin observes, Churchill so ‘idealized’ the people that with time they began to see themselves as Churchill saw them and in doing so, Churchill ‘transformed cowards into brave men.’ A fundamental axiom of leadership is that people will tend to conform to what a leader thinks of them and will rise to that leader’s expectations of them.
As spiritual leaders we, too, carry a vision of the the glory of a Kingdom centered in the rule and reign of Christ, creator of all. This shapes a Kingdom lens through which we look at every other human being. Our ministry of loving, preaching and exhorting transforms how people see themselves. They come to see themselves as Christ sees them. In the process they rise above fear, insecurity and the curse of unworthy, self-centered aims. This, by the Spirit, through Christ, transforms people from cowardice to bravery, from consumerism to servanthood, from being victims to rising as victors.
“No, in all things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” (Romans 8:37)
Thu, Aug 12, 2010 2:12 PM
Wed, Aug 4, 2010 10:02 AM
Tue, Jul 20, 2010 12:46 PM
I have been watching a documentary on the life of Winston Churchill, lent to me by a fellow Churchill admirer, Randy Hurst. We both agree that Churchill may have been one of the greatest political figures of the 20th century.After a decade of political exile during which his warns about the rising threat in Germany were largely laughed at, Churchill experienced a kind of “resurrection” from political death and became Prime Minister of England shortly after the onset of World War II. When he took office he said that he felt:
“. . . as if I were walking with Destiny, and that all my past life had been but a preparation for this hour and for this trial. Eleven years in the political wilderness had freed me from ordinary party antagonisms. . . Therefore, although impatient for the morning, I slept soundly and had no need for cheering dreams.”
The seasons of Churchill’s life, ironically, read something like the three 40-year seasons of Moses’ life: success, wilderness, significance. This is true of many leaders. Early success sometimes leads to barren years of either obscurity or frustration, followed by the accomplishments that person is most remembered for. It is, indeed, like a life – death – resurrection rhythm.
Churchill noted that the seasons that had preceded him becoming prime minister had been “but a preparation for this hour and for this trial.” At 80 years of age this was certainly true of Moses. I like how Bernard Ramm put it – in Egypt Moses earned his bachelor’s degree in public administration and in Midian he got his master’s degree in desert survival. Now he was ready to take on the real reason for which he had been born.
The rhythm and nature of the preparatory seasons in our lives are the result of God’s sovereign intention. Often they involve “sovereign surprises” that don’t always into our 5-year plans, or our 50-year plans for that matter. The important thing is to not resist or resent the seasons, but to let each season drive us deeper, knowing that God is in the process of preparing us to go wider.
The seasons of our lives can either ruin us or forge us. But if we trust God with the unknowns of our future and embrace each season for what it can teach us, God has a way of eventually bringing those seasons full circle. Some seasons may be frustrating, but they are not purposeless. They are all a part, in Churchill’s words, of “walking with destiny.” As Jesus-followers we would say that each season is a part of God’s strategic, sovereign design, preparing us to fulfill the unique calling that is upon each one of our lives.
More on Churchill next week, but for now may this week serve to shape and temper and train you for what God has for you – no matter what life season you are in.
Tue, Jul 20, 2010 12:44 PM
It’s Father’s Day morning as I write and, not being a pastor any more, I am waiting to ‘go to church.’ Although I am looking forward to it, I am still getting used to not being in pastor mode anymore. The day also makes be reflective of my dad who spent his life not only going to church, but actively serving as a volunteer.
He died nearly 6 years ago at the age of 75. At the time he still owned his own business and was voluntarily donating huge numbers of hours to ministry as volunteer director of the Billy Graham telephone call center in Winnipeg, Canada, and as an Alpha Course table leader at church, working with pre-believers and discipling new Christians.
Over my lifetime I watched him direct choirs, lead ‘song services,’ build Sunday Schools, direct singles ministries, print bulletins on Saturdays, lead home groups, raise money for our Pentecostal camp in Manitoba, partner with national evangelism outreaches, lead the district men’s ministry, etc., etc. He did this all without pay. That’s why he always wanted to own his own company. The ability to be flexible with your time comes with being your own boss.
No one eclipsed my dad as the ultimate volunteer. Having now been a pastor for 30 years I realized that guys like this don’t come along every day, but they are invaluable if God gives you one. In fact, most of what I believe about volunteer ministry I learned about my dad. Here are a few of those lessons.
1. You don’t have to be a pastor to be a minister.People would often say to dad, “You missed your calling; you should have been a pastor.” Dad, however, was very confident in his calling to be a business man. I liked that. He would not buy into the myth that you had to be in full time ministry before you could be a minister. I saw his volunteerism actually help turn churches around, but he never saw himself a ‘pastor.’ He relentlessly clung to a biblical understanding of ministry, not a sociological one.
2, The local church is worth sacrificing for.Dad volunteered A LOT. Although he was not neglectful of his family (4 kids and a wife) it was also not unusual to ask mom, “Where’s Dad tonight?” Invariably the answer would be, “At church.” He was not self-serving with his discretionary time but invested it to make a difference for God. He somehow had linked his service to the church with a deep love for Jesus. How could he love God and not give away his time to God’s work?
3. You stay faithful even if you get hurt.When I was a teenager dad was the volunteer Sunday School superintendent at a our home church. The program had doubled in size under his leadership. At one point he suggested to the pastor that we switch from the denominational curriculum for the sake of more updated teaching materials and methodologies. Unfortunately the pastor interpreted his suggestion as disloyalty. Dad got pretty hurt. Disloyalty was not even in his nature. He was just trying to help, and for free at that. The point is, however, that he stayed faithful. Beyond not getting bitter, he stayed engaged in volunteer ministry at that church. He knew that if you volunteer, you sometimes get hurt. So what, Jesus got hurt too.
4. People are more important than programs.It’s a cliché, I know, but beautiful when it is actually lived out. The one thing that impresses me most about dad’s ministry as a volunteer was not the programs that he would lead at church, but the phone calls he would get at home from people going through hard times, struggling with life, needing prayer and a word of counsel and encouragement. We always had good pastors, but people would often go to him first. I am sure he was often tired, especially when the late evening calls would come, but he never seemed to resent it. Then he would be up early the next morning to spend an hour devotionally with God before going to ‘work.’
Thank you, Lord, for a humble dad who taught me to love Jesus and love serving, even when you don’t get paid. And thanks to all of you dads out there who are making a difference at home AND at church.