We have done it! We have walked the streets of Lima and trudged up and down the sandy, rocky hillsides of one community and ministered together in the name of the 38th Family and of the Lord Jesus Christ. I may surprised you with this, but we don't have a clue how many people prayed to receive Christ on this trip; we did not count. In the end, only the Lord knows how many of those who did pray were serious, or comprehended the decision, when they prayed. But we shared with the young and the old alike.
Yesterday (Wednesday) may have been the most challenging day for us. The morning began in ominous tones. It seems that customs released a flood of containers from recently-arrived ships. The roads to our community were blocked. We slowed to a crawl and were forced to breathe the wretched pollution from myriad trucks that enveloped us. When we finally arrived at the morning destination--almost one hour late--we were already tired from the cacophany of the trucks' air horns and from eating so much of their dust and pollution.
But we headed to a market to minister and preach the word. My first stop with my small group was with a young lady who was glad to speak with us. I wondered if she was really listening as I shared the word of God. I finally told her I could return later and see if she had thought things over. She suddenly blurted out (in Spanish), "No! I am ready to do this now!" No one was more surprised than I. I could not read her, as I normally can do. "Pilar" prayed to receive Christ--the first of 7 that would pray with me that day.
Later in that same day we found ourselves before the casket of an 18-year-old young lady who gave up. Hopelessness swallowed her the night before. She drank a bottle of insecticide, thinking that was the way of escape from whatever demons chased her. Our host pastor had witnessed to her before, evidently; she had soundly rejected Christ at that time, if I understood him correctly. I was heartbroken to hear it.
We moved from one house of grief to another; the next person we visited has breast cancer. She is consumed with it. We came in, anointed her with oil, and prayed for healing, as the Lord willed. There was a moment of joy in that meeting. She said she wished she could attend the church (she received the Lord a couple of weeks ago). I suggested she could; the church could hold services there. It was well-received. Next week they will take their worship services to her place and celebrate Jesus there.
Today, after spending a good bit of time in prayer, we converged upon the inhabitants of the community once more. We forced our sore muscles to push us up the steep hills one more time. It was fruitful in the sense we managed to meet new families--believers--who were looking for a church home. We also met others who had just moved to the area and were interested in hearing the gospel. Our day finally came to a close and we made our way back to our "base." I left the team at the guest house and came to close out my business with my Peruvian friends. Now it's time to pack the bags...
We won't soon forget this good trip. We are returning to Mississippi tomorrow--most of us are, that is; two left tonight. We will carry with us treasures that cannot be assessed a monetary value. They cannot be seen here, either. They are heavenly treasures. They are treasures of joy and hope.
It was a good trip.
Showing posts with label Evangelism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Evangelism. Show all posts
Thursday, October 06, 2011
Wednesday, July 06, 2011
Just sayin'...
The glorious celebration of the Declaration of Independence of the United States of America has come and gone. Friends and family celebrated all over the land. In fact, they were still celebrating at midnight last night where we live. Fireworks thundered around us. The dog trembled beside me; he really dislikes such noises ever since we left South America for the Southern America of the northern hemisphere. I think thunder and lightning, something he had never experienced, has a lot to do with it.
We celebrated at a lake some 90 miles north of here. It's a nice lake, with 28 miles of shoreline. My brother-in-law carried his very nice boat up there. The majority of the family climbed in it and took off for fun on the water. I remained behind to wet a hook with my Daiwa open faced spinning reel; it was the first time since 2002, or maybe '03, that I had been able to use that rig. I think a man can't claim to be a fisherman if he hasn't fished since then (don't lose that thought; I'll go somewhere with it).
My first cast in 8 years resulted in what I did not want to see: my best spinner bait flying freely across the lake and into the water. Somehow my handsome 2-year-old grandson had managed to get tangled in the line while the pole was sitting by the chair they set him in. And the line subsequently wrapped around the handle. So when I cast the line, the whip action set in motion a freedom my lure could have only enjoyed as it hurtled across the open waters. The bass sat below the surface laughing, no doubt.
Those bass later amused themselves by striking lazily at my attempts to lure them with other spinners. They do that sometimes. They do it often with me. I could almost hear their gurgling laughter below the water...
After an hour of trying different lures, I gave up and went back to the clan who had gathered under the trees where we had set up our picnic. I got there in time to see them run off for round two on the water. More of us stayed behind that time.
And then came the rains. Not just rain. Thunder and lightning. The park ranger made us get into our cars (the boaters had returned--a wise move). My grandson climbed into our car, which he claims as his. His mom's car is hers; my wife's car is hers. But my SUV belongs to Michael; he cries out when he sees it, "MY car!" He sat in my lap, hands wrapped around the steering wheel, steering wildly. I thought his actions reminded me of a taxi driver in Lima.
We were in the car to evade the lighting and rain. That's when I felt it: water, slowly soaking into my lap. You can guess why. I decided I would stand in the rain for awhile... The lightning was preferrable to the sensation of that kind of water.
We were finally driven away from the lake by the storm cells. One would end, but another would form just as quickly. We saw no break in sight.
I went home reminded of two things: sometimes someone is going to pee on you when you least expect it. That's just part of life.
But worse, if you don't fish more than once or twice in a decade, you really aren't a fisherman.
And if you don't win souls any more often than that; neither are you a soul-winner.
I'm just sayin'...
We celebrated at a lake some 90 miles north of here. It's a nice lake, with 28 miles of shoreline. My brother-in-law carried his very nice boat up there. The majority of the family climbed in it and took off for fun on the water. I remained behind to wet a hook with my Daiwa open faced spinning reel; it was the first time since 2002, or maybe '03, that I had been able to use that rig. I think a man can't claim to be a fisherman if he hasn't fished since then (don't lose that thought; I'll go somewhere with it).
My first cast in 8 years resulted in what I did not want to see: my best spinner bait flying freely across the lake and into the water. Somehow my handsome 2-year-old grandson had managed to get tangled in the line while the pole was sitting by the chair they set him in. And the line subsequently wrapped around the handle. So when I cast the line, the whip action set in motion a freedom my lure could have only enjoyed as it hurtled across the open waters. The bass sat below the surface laughing, no doubt.
Those bass later amused themselves by striking lazily at my attempts to lure them with other spinners. They do that sometimes. They do it often with me. I could almost hear their gurgling laughter below the water...
After an hour of trying different lures, I gave up and went back to the clan who had gathered under the trees where we had set up our picnic. I got there in time to see them run off for round two on the water. More of us stayed behind that time.
And then came the rains. Not just rain. Thunder and lightning. The park ranger made us get into our cars (the boaters had returned--a wise move). My grandson climbed into our car, which he claims as his. His mom's car is hers; my wife's car is hers. But my SUV belongs to Michael; he cries out when he sees it, "MY car!" He sat in my lap, hands wrapped around the steering wheel, steering wildly. I thought his actions reminded me of a taxi driver in Lima.
We were in the car to evade the lighting and rain. That's when I felt it: water, slowly soaking into my lap. You can guess why. I decided I would stand in the rain for awhile... The lightning was preferrable to the sensation of that kind of water.
We were finally driven away from the lake by the storm cells. One would end, but another would form just as quickly. We saw no break in sight.
I went home reminded of two things: sometimes someone is going to pee on you when you least expect it. That's just part of life.
But worse, if you don't fish more than once or twice in a decade, you really aren't a fisherman.
And if you don't win souls any more often than that; neither are you a soul-winner.
I'm just sayin'...
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Life in Southern America
We left South America for Southern America just over a month ago. We left one style of ministry for one that is more traditional in its scope: the pastorate in a traditional church.
So imagine my surprise when the first people that I am able to evangelize, sitting right in my counseling office, were not Mississippians. They were not even "southern" Americans. They were from Venezuela. And our conversation was not in the rich southern English of Mississippi. It was almost entirely in Spanish. The Bible open in front of me was a Spanish Bible.
I came expectantly, hoping to use my years of work in South America to further the kingdom of God. The joy of seeing my first two to pray to receive Christ, and see them do it in Spanish, was delightful. May God give us dozens more!
So imagine my surprise when the first people that I am able to evangelize, sitting right in my counseling office, were not Mississippians. They were not even "southern" Americans. They were from Venezuela. And our conversation was not in the rich southern English of Mississippi. It was almost entirely in Spanish. The Bible open in front of me was a Spanish Bible.
I came expectantly, hoping to use my years of work in South America to further the kingdom of God. The joy of seeing my first two to pray to receive Christ, and see them do it in Spanish, was delightful. May God give us dozens more!
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Don't Sit Around Talking About It, Just Do It!
Southern Baptists formed a new task force. They are tasked with figuring out what's going with SBs and the Great Commission.
I have a piece of advice for SBs. Don't sit around talking about the Great Commission. Just do it! Don't talk about all your churches that baptized no one. Go out yourself and win more, if you can. Don't talk about the efficiency of your state conventions (which are not technically "yours," but partner groups), just go out and win some more to Jesus.
When your task force meets in Atlanta and in Arkansas in the coming months, forego the meetings; go out into the highways and hedges and compel more to come in to the great banquet.
Do what Dr. Paige did in Texas earlier this year: find a group of struggling churches and hold a weekend meeting with those good folks. Modeling a little bit of the Great Commission might be shot in the arm for some of them.
Too simplistic? Maybe. Maybe not. I am not convinced that our collective personal evangelism amounts to much. We have, albeit unwillingly so, yielded to the cultures that surround our cities and communities. If you listen carefully, many will tell you in so many words that you cannot effectively share your faith on a personal level anymore.
Evangelists; oh, professional evangelists, I call you to spend your days out with pastors (or alone, if they are too "busy" to go win the lost), doing what you can to preach; don't just wait for night to fall, and for the lights to come on so you can stand center stage and preach your polished messages.
Why are SBs having such a time with the Great Commission? Could it just be that we are so busy looking at form that we have forgotten that the very gospel itself is the power of God unto salvation?
Southern Baptists: JUST DO IT!
I have a piece of advice for SBs. Don't sit around talking about the Great Commission. Just do it! Don't talk about all your churches that baptized no one. Go out yourself and win more, if you can. Don't talk about the efficiency of your state conventions (which are not technically "yours," but partner groups), just go out and win some more to Jesus.
When your task force meets in Atlanta and in Arkansas in the coming months, forego the meetings; go out into the highways and hedges and compel more to come in to the great banquet.
Do what Dr. Paige did in Texas earlier this year: find a group of struggling churches and hold a weekend meeting with those good folks. Modeling a little bit of the Great Commission might be shot in the arm for some of them.
Too simplistic? Maybe. Maybe not. I am not convinced that our collective personal evangelism amounts to much. We have, albeit unwillingly so, yielded to the cultures that surround our cities and communities. If you listen carefully, many will tell you in so many words that you cannot effectively share your faith on a personal level anymore.
Evangelists; oh, professional evangelists, I call you to spend your days out with pastors (or alone, if they are too "busy" to go win the lost), doing what you can to preach; don't just wait for night to fall, and for the lights to come on so you can stand center stage and preach your polished messages.
Why are SBs having such a time with the Great Commission? Could it just be that we are so busy looking at form that we have forgotten that the very gospel itself is the power of God unto salvation?
Southern Baptists: JUST DO IT!
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Transference in Church Growth
I am in the process of preparing my notes for tonight's Church Growth class. Many thanks to my prof, Dr. Steve Wilkes, of Mid-America Baptist Theological Seminary. His notes from that doctoral seminar have been priceless for me.
One thing that must be emphasized in any church growth class is the danger of transference. I know that many will recognize "transference" as a pyschological term. In fact, Wikipedia defines transference in a number of ways. Here is one affirmation: "One definition of transference is 'the inappropriate repetition in the present of a relationship that was important in a person's childhood.'"
Notice the words, "inappropriate repetition." Those words are key for the intents and purposes of this blog.
We often admire the "successes" of some of the mega and meta-churches around the world. To read and hear--better yet, to attend a service--of a church that thousands may attend is something that often makes us yearn for something more in our ministry. To read anecdotes of successful church planting in other parts of the world does much the same for a missionary. Yes, we rejoice in both cases. But often we also hope and strive to see something akin to it where we are.
And it is there that we are tempted to go down a road that is unhealthy for us. We begin to study the church or field in question, and we see what we can pull from it to use in our ministries. But we must be careful. This is where Dr. Wilkes' sage warning comes in. Dr. Wilkes told us early on [probably not his precise wording, but these are from his notes], "Church growth is a complex issue. Do not fall into the trap of oversimplification. Do not attribute church growth to a single cause. Do not assume you can transfer methods from one situation to another."
In a world where responsiveness to the Gospel varies from location to location, we need to heed Dr. Wilkes' advice. We do not need to be guilty of missiological or ecclesiological transference. God's plan and methods for India may not be God's plan for Guatemala. While our message remains constant, our plans and methods must reflect at least three things:
One thing that must be emphasized in any church growth class is the danger of transference. I know that many will recognize "transference" as a pyschological term. In fact, Wikipedia defines transference in a number of ways. Here is one affirmation: "One definition of transference is 'the inappropriate repetition in the present of a relationship that was important in a person's childhood.'"
Notice the words, "inappropriate repetition." Those words are key for the intents and purposes of this blog.
We often admire the "successes" of some of the mega and meta-churches around the world. To read and hear--better yet, to attend a service--of a church that thousands may attend is something that often makes us yearn for something more in our ministry. To read anecdotes of successful church planting in other parts of the world does much the same for a missionary. Yes, we rejoice in both cases. But often we also hope and strive to see something akin to it where we are.
And it is there that we are tempted to go down a road that is unhealthy for us. We begin to study the church or field in question, and we see what we can pull from it to use in our ministries. But we must be careful. This is where Dr. Wilkes' sage warning comes in. Dr. Wilkes told us early on [probably not his precise wording, but these are from his notes], "Church growth is a complex issue. Do not fall into the trap of oversimplification. Do not attribute church growth to a single cause. Do not assume you can transfer methods from one situation to another."
In a world where responsiveness to the Gospel varies from location to location, we need to heed Dr. Wilkes' advice. We do not need to be guilty of missiological or ecclesiological transference. God's plan and methods for India may not be God's plan for Guatemala. While our message remains constant, our plans and methods must reflect at least three things:
- Prayer - the foundational principle of our work within the kingdom of God
- Local responsiveness
- Local socio-political and other similar factors
I fear we are so intent on not reinventing the wheel that we too often take unwise, poorly thought-out, and untested shortcuts, seeking the most pragmatic solution to immediate results. We need to be more concerned that we have spent enough time before God to have gotten his plan and methodology, concentrating more on the long-term results, than we do on short-term, immediate results.
Take a close look at your ministry, or your church's or mission's ministry; see if transference--the unhealthy repetition of someone else's ministry ideas characterizes yours. If it does, perhaps it is time to call a prayer meeting to begin the changes you need in your field.
Jesus is Lord!
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Who Will Tell?
The world continues to grow at a phenomenal rate. The latest projections put the world population at 7 billion by 2012. That is incredible.
As it stands, China and India lead the world in population. The United States is a distant third.
I have not investigated it, but I strongly suspect the population explosion is outpacing our evangelistic efforts. That means that each day more and more people are dying lost. That means that Scripture is being fulfilled: hell hath enlarged herself (Isaiah 5:14).
Does God want mankind to go to hell? If so, why did he send his only son, born of a virgin, to die for a world that is headed to hell? God does not want to see this world go to hell. He wants you and me to go tell others about the hope that is in Jesus.
The world is growing. Who will go and tell them about Jesus?
As it stands, China and India lead the world in population. The United States is a distant third.
I have not investigated it, but I strongly suspect the population explosion is outpacing our evangelistic efforts. That means that each day more and more people are dying lost. That means that Scripture is being fulfilled: hell hath enlarged herself (Isaiah 5:14).
Does God want mankind to go to hell? If so, why did he send his only son, born of a virgin, to die for a world that is headed to hell? God does not want to see this world go to hell. He wants you and me to go tell others about the hope that is in Jesus.
The world is growing. Who will go and tell them about Jesus?
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Let Your Speech Be Seasoned With Grace and Salt
I am in South America today. We came for my daughter's graduation from her high school. That's not the purpose of this post, though. I have some thoughts about speech--about our conversation.
Today I drove over to the grocery store. The vehicle I was driving was in desperate need of a good washing. So I asked a man to wash it. We discussed his price, which was reasonable to begin with; but a little bit of conversation about such things is important. After we came out of the store, we realized the man was not finished washing the car. So we had a few minutes to kill. That's when it happened; a very unique conversation began.
The young man asked me first where I was from. I told him. He complimented my lack of American accent and then asked what church I attended. That seldom happens, but I was glad to answer. I told him I was Baptist. He asked if that was a Christian church. I told him it was.
He said he could tell I was a Christian by my speech--my manner of conversation. I asked him to explain himself and he said he could tell by my choice of words that I was a Christ-follower.
This was as fine a compliment as I could have received. But it made me think, too. It made me wonder how many times my choices made people wonder other things about me.
Being recognized as a follower of Jesus just by speaking in everyday conversation can be a door-opener. I was able then to speak to this man about his own walk with the Lord. I am sorry to say that I did not have the time to lead him to Christ. But we were able to take it to another plane.
Who do people see when you speak?
Today I drove over to the grocery store. The vehicle I was driving was in desperate need of a good washing. So I asked a man to wash it. We discussed his price, which was reasonable to begin with; but a little bit of conversation about such things is important. After we came out of the store, we realized the man was not finished washing the car. So we had a few minutes to kill. That's when it happened; a very unique conversation began.
The young man asked me first where I was from. I told him. He complimented my lack of American accent and then asked what church I attended. That seldom happens, but I was glad to answer. I told him I was Baptist. He asked if that was a Christian church. I told him it was.
He said he could tell I was a Christian by my speech--my manner of conversation. I asked him to explain himself and he said he could tell by my choice of words that I was a Christ-follower.
This was as fine a compliment as I could have received. But it made me think, too. It made me wonder how many times my choices made people wonder other things about me.
Being recognized as a follower of Jesus just by speaking in everyday conversation can be a door-opener. I was able then to speak to this man about his own walk with the Lord. I am sorry to say that I did not have the time to lead him to Christ. But we were able to take it to another plane.
Who do people see when you speak?
Friday, June 13, 2008
Go! Tell!
I just watched the annual report of the International Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention. You can reach the link here.
What moved me most were the testimonies shared by some great men and women in South America. They were in places that you and I may never dare to go. But the call to go tell was too strong for them to stay here. The drive to obey Jesus Christ outweighs the fear for their lives, the frustration of harsh living, and even the risk of being seen as foolish by one's peers.
South America is a massive continent. Lostness is pervasive. There are 355 million men, women, and children who still need to repent and believe the gospel. Every 15 seconds someone in South America dies and goes to hell. Eighty percent of the people living in South America live in large cities, some as large as 18 million. There are at least 41 cities with a population of a million, or more.
While we are seeing modest gains here and there, the vast majority continues in the kingdom of darkness. If they knew what we knew, they would cry out to us.
They would say, "Go! Tell the good news to my people!
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Is the Door Closing to Share the Gospel?
The Lausanne World Pulse just made an astonishing claim about India: the door to the gospel seems to be closing.
Persecution and rejection are commonplace in some parts of the world. Why are we surprised? Jesus prophesied it; Paul proclaimed it; Peter asked his readers why they were so surprised.
Westerners are concerned about the growing rejection of the gospel, too. Our methods to try to rectify that rejection leave something to be desired. We become "user friendly." I watched one church service that resembled the circ de soleil. Lights flashed on and off. Smoke poured out from all sides. Folks dressed in black tights came spiraling down thick cloth ropes, while the pastor rode in on his Harley, the circus-like music in a crescendo to announce his arrival.
To ease the pain of rejection, we are tempted to soften the seriousness of sin. We have deluded ourselves about how ugly sin really is. That way, some of us think, people will be more comfortable in our churches. There should be such a sense of holiness when we gather, that sinners either get right or run out the door.
Other times we simply leave off the truth about sin and simply preach the good part of the good news. Remember: in the case of the gospel, there is no good news without bad news.
Do not be surprised if people reject the gospel. Acceptance by everyone would be desirable. But, sadly, far more will choose to reject the Lord Jesus. Just keep sharing the gospel and rejoice over the fruit God gives you.
Persecution and rejection are commonplace in some parts of the world. Why are we surprised? Jesus prophesied it; Paul proclaimed it; Peter asked his readers why they were so surprised.
Westerners are concerned about the growing rejection of the gospel, too. Our methods to try to rectify that rejection leave something to be desired. We become "user friendly." I watched one church service that resembled the circ de soleil. Lights flashed on and off. Smoke poured out from all sides. Folks dressed in black tights came spiraling down thick cloth ropes, while the pastor rode in on his Harley, the circus-like music in a crescendo to announce his arrival.
To ease the pain of rejection, we are tempted to soften the seriousness of sin. We have deluded ourselves about how ugly sin really is. That way, some of us think, people will be more comfortable in our churches. There should be such a sense of holiness when we gather, that sinners either get right or run out the door.
Other times we simply leave off the truth about sin and simply preach the good part of the good news. Remember: in the case of the gospel, there is no good news without bad news.
Do not be surprised if people reject the gospel. Acceptance by everyone would be desirable. But, sadly, far more will choose to reject the Lord Jesus. Just keep sharing the gospel and rejoice over the fruit God gives you.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Those Weakening Hands
Here is a piece of news that Southern Baptists did not want to hear: membership and baptisms have declined. While IMB missionaries are reporting increases in overseas membership and baptisms, the churches holding the proverbial ropes are weakening. So what's happening?
Why is this taking place now? One site quotes expert Ed Stetzer, also providing a link to Stetzer's own site. Stetzer gives three issues that must be discussed to address this historic and unprecedented decline for Southern Baptists:
Why is this taking place now? One site quotes expert Ed Stetzer, also providing a link to Stetzer's own site. Stetzer gives three issues that must be discussed to address this historic and unprecedented decline for Southern Baptists:
- The absence of young leaders and ethnic leaders in denominational life.
- Denominational infighting.
- (most importantly) We’ve lost our focus on the gospel.
Add to Stetzer's opinion other important factors such as:
- Our love affair with American culture
- Undisciplined churches
- (most importantly for me) a growing indication of prayerlessness
When you work in a group with so many members (over 16 million) it becomes very easy to rest on those historic laurels. We have gotten large and lethargic. Large is good; lethargy is deadly.
Why is this significant to someone working in South America? Consider the following:
- Our future international missionaries come from this declining pool.
- Lethargy eventually reveals itself in lethargic missions support; this is not just financial in nature. We are currently blessed with a surge in personal participation on the part of SBC churches. But this will not continue if those churches are losing the battle "back home."
- Denominational infighting creates such a lack of focus that important things as winning lost America and reaching a lost world fall in the cracks.
Pray for the SBC. Pray, pray, pray for revival.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
The Offense of the Gospel
Last week a young man attended his religion class at a local college. Interestingly, his teacher is agnostic, if not an atheist. What would an agnostic have to say in a religion class? That sounds, to me, something like Osama bin Laden teaching on democracy.
The good unbelieving teacher assigned this student--the only Christian in his class, by the way--a paper, asking him to defend the uniqueness of Christianity over the predominant views of the class and the atheism of the professor. So the young man wrote a paper on the uniqueness of Christ and his salvation. As the young man presented the paper, his professor stopped him. The professor was irate and asked him when he was going to realize that his belief in the gospel was offensive and intolerant. The young man was wise and very bold. He asked the professor when she was going to realize that the gospel of Jesus Christ is offensive to those who do not believe and when was she going to take up her cross and follow Jesus. The irate, unbelieving, agnostic-if-not-atheistic professor asked him to leave the class.
Kudos to the young man! The truth is that the gospel offends when presented in its purest form. There are those out there now who would do all they can to make it palatable for today's unbelieving world. You can gather a crowd around most anything and call it successful. But if you want to be successful in the work of the kingdom of God, you will have to use the pure and, yes, offensive gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Anything else creates the church of Jesus-plus.
And just in case you think I am pointing only to America, there are some out there who would tell Muslims they can be followers of Jesus as well as Mohammed. There are "Christian" missionaries who actually begin their teachings with such statements as, "There is one god; Allah is his name and Mohammed is his prophet." If any man preach any other gospel than that preached in the Bible, let him perish in the fires of hell. Such belief is the church of Jesus-plus.
There are others who claim to be Christian, yet teach us to follow the mother of Jesus, upholding her as co-redemptrix. To be sure, Mary was a chosen vessel of God; but even Mary had to repent and believe in the saving power of her son, or she would have spent an eternity in hell. Mary is not the way to heaven; Jesus Christ is the way to heaven. Again, such belief is the church of Jesus-plus.
Whatever you add to Jesus is one more way of diluting the gospel. Whatever you take away also dilutes the gospel. Some would remove the sexual sins from those habits that God says will keep one out of the kingdom of God. The lifestyle of homosexuality, receiving "sexual favors" from homosexuals (that is called effiminism in the Bible), pre-marital sex, adultery, and the like are sins listed in 1 Corinthians 6. And God says those people will not inherit the kingdom of God. Yet, there are those today who would soften the Bible's stance on purity and morality. The truth is this: no practicing sinner has eternal life. Those who have the true hope of seeing Jesus will purify themselves, even as he is pure (1 John 3).
Yes, the gospel offends. The gospel wounds and cuts. But the gospel of Jesus Christ also is the saving power of God to those who believe.
Let's proclaim a pure gospel, even if it is offensive.
The good unbelieving teacher assigned this student--the only Christian in his class, by the way--a paper, asking him to defend the uniqueness of Christianity over the predominant views of the class and the atheism of the professor. So the young man wrote a paper on the uniqueness of Christ and his salvation. As the young man presented the paper, his professor stopped him. The professor was irate and asked him when he was going to realize that his belief in the gospel was offensive and intolerant. The young man was wise and very bold. He asked the professor when she was going to realize that the gospel of Jesus Christ is offensive to those who do not believe and when was she going to take up her cross and follow Jesus. The irate, unbelieving, agnostic-if-not-atheistic professor asked him to leave the class.
Kudos to the young man! The truth is that the gospel offends when presented in its purest form. There are those out there now who would do all they can to make it palatable for today's unbelieving world. You can gather a crowd around most anything and call it successful. But if you want to be successful in the work of the kingdom of God, you will have to use the pure and, yes, offensive gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Anything else creates the church of Jesus-plus.
And just in case you think I am pointing only to America, there are some out there who would tell Muslims they can be followers of Jesus as well as Mohammed. There are "Christian" missionaries who actually begin their teachings with such statements as, "There is one god; Allah is his name and Mohammed is his prophet." If any man preach any other gospel than that preached in the Bible, let him perish in the fires of hell. Such belief is the church of Jesus-plus.
There are others who claim to be Christian, yet teach us to follow the mother of Jesus, upholding her as co-redemptrix. To be sure, Mary was a chosen vessel of God; but even Mary had to repent and believe in the saving power of her son, or she would have spent an eternity in hell. Mary is not the way to heaven; Jesus Christ is the way to heaven. Again, such belief is the church of Jesus-plus.
Whatever you add to Jesus is one more way of diluting the gospel. Whatever you take away also dilutes the gospel. Some would remove the sexual sins from those habits that God says will keep one out of the kingdom of God. The lifestyle of homosexuality, receiving "sexual favors" from homosexuals (that is called effiminism in the Bible), pre-marital sex, adultery, and the like are sins listed in 1 Corinthians 6. And God says those people will not inherit the kingdom of God. Yet, there are those today who would soften the Bible's stance on purity and morality. The truth is this: no practicing sinner has eternal life. Those who have the true hope of seeing Jesus will purify themselves, even as he is pure (1 John 3).
Yes, the gospel offends. The gospel wounds and cuts. But the gospel of Jesus Christ also is the saving power of God to those who believe.
Let's proclaim a pure gospel, even if it is offensive.
Friday, September 28, 2007
War of the Worlds
We live in a place of constant warfare. All of us do, as a matter of fact. Physical wars aside, there are wars that take place in and around us that we need to remember. There is a war--a conflict with culture. If you are a committed follower of the Lord Jesus, and are not in conflict with the culture in which you live, there could be something seriously wrong about your concept of true Christianity.
We are at war with our own desires, too. They constantly pull us in different directions. As Paul said in Romans 7, the good I want to do is not what I end up doing. The evil I do not want to do is what do. I bet you can relate! I can!
We have a war with the forces of evil--with the devil. His forces are working against us.
So why was I surprised today when things began heating up related to my next volunteer group? Why was I surprised when certain entities in this country began seeking to shut us down and keep us from proclaiming Jesus all around the city? I don't know! But I was. I guess I took my eyes off the Master; off our Lord Jesus Christ.
I can't wait to see what God is up to. He must have something really big planned. The forces of the world and of darkness are working hard to stop us. Stay tuned. I will update you as I can next week.
Jesus is Lord. He wins the war of the worlds.
We are at war with our own desires, too. They constantly pull us in different directions. As Paul said in Romans 7, the good I want to do is not what I end up doing. The evil I do not want to do is what do. I bet you can relate! I can!
We have a war with the forces of evil--with the devil. His forces are working against us.
So why was I surprised today when things began heating up related to my next volunteer group? Why was I surprised when certain entities in this country began seeking to shut us down and keep us from proclaiming Jesus all around the city? I don't know! But I was. I guess I took my eyes off the Master; off our Lord Jesus Christ.
I can't wait to see what God is up to. He must have something really big planned. The forces of the world and of darkness are working hard to stop us. Stay tuned. I will update you as I can next week.
Jesus is Lord. He wins the war of the worlds.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Upsetting the Opposition
Today was a day of upsets. One of the big names in women's tennis was shocked by a teen from Poland. I have never even heard of the girl who won. Then there was the powerhouse Michigan, that Goliath of a football program who met the Davidic Appalachian State. Now I have heard of Michigan. I know of their prowess on the field and on the basketball court. Michigan started the day ranked number 5; it will feel the sting of that stone for weeks to come.
We are in the process of creating an upset, too. Our disaster relief teams will go out in the morning, armed with nothing but the word of God. Did I say nothing? The word of God is alive and powerful; it cuts deeper than any sword or surgical tool you know. The power of the word is the Living God. His Holy Spirit breathes life into them. The Bible is his words to us. They are real, relevant, and for you and me.
So our teams in Ica will head out to 6 different locations tomorrow. They will enter the realm of the hurting and disillusioned and present them with God's truth. The enemy may not have caused the horrible earthquake that shattered their lives; I don't think Satan is that powerful. But he has certainly tried to make something of it since then. We intend to upset his plans. We intend to be David before Goliath. The team has its pouch filled with smooth stones. They have readied their slings. They will not miss the mark.
Tomorrow is going to be a good day to be a servant of the all-powerful God, through his son Jesus, and in the power of his Holy Spirit. If you are not on his side, it's time to join the winning team.
We are in the process of creating an upset, too. Our disaster relief teams will go out in the morning, armed with nothing but the word of God. Did I say nothing? The word of God is alive and powerful; it cuts deeper than any sword or surgical tool you know. The power of the word is the Living God. His Holy Spirit breathes life into them. The Bible is his words to us. They are real, relevant, and for you and me.
So our teams in Ica will head out to 6 different locations tomorrow. They will enter the realm of the hurting and disillusioned and present them with God's truth. The enemy may not have caused the horrible earthquake that shattered their lives; I don't think Satan is that powerful. But he has certainly tried to make something of it since then. We intend to upset his plans. We intend to be David before Goliath. The team has its pouch filled with smooth stones. They have readied their slings. They will not miss the mark.
Tomorrow is going to be a good day to be a servant of the all-powerful God, through his son Jesus, and in the power of his Holy Spirit. If you are not on his side, it's time to join the winning team.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Relief Work Continues
In interest of time, if you are interested in updates on the relief work in and around Ica, please go to: http://reliefinfo.dreamhosters.com/blog/. Jeff and Judy Hughes have done a great job keeping that blog updated with the latest information.
Our Peruvian Baptist partners are working hard in Chincha, another hard-hit city. Some of our missionaries are headed there in the morning to try to help with food distribution for many homeless families.
Men and women are responsive to the gospel. Their hearts are tender, due to this terrible tragedy. Even in Lima we are seeing positive things happening as a result of their brush with disaster. Where I preached on Sunday (a day to promote missions in a local church), many indicated they were repenting and believing on the Lord Jesus. Including those who recommitted their lives the Lord, there were 24 public decisions.
God is at work in Peru. Help us seek the Father's face so that we respond his way.
Our Peruvian Baptist partners are working hard in Chincha, another hard-hit city. Some of our missionaries are headed there in the morning to try to help with food distribution for many homeless families.
Men and women are responsive to the gospel. Their hearts are tender, due to this terrible tragedy. Even in Lima we are seeing positive things happening as a result of their brush with disaster. Where I preached on Sunday (a day to promote missions in a local church), many indicated they were repenting and believing on the Lord Jesus. Including those who recommitted their lives the Lord, there were 24 public decisions.
God is at work in Peru. Help us seek the Father's face so that we respond his way.
Monday, July 30, 2007
A Day at an Oasis
Yesterday I was with three volunteers, working in a squatter community called Oasis. Believe me when I tell you it is a misnomer to call this place Oasis. Oasis is built right on top of a garbage dump. It smells. Because of the lack of sanitary conditions, it smells even worse than the landfill covered with sand and dirt that it is. I am not looking forward to next summer (January through March down here); the flies, already swarming, will be plague-like in their presence. That's another story.
Before the Bible study I spoke with two ladies. They both asked me to visit their "house" after the study. They called it a house; we would not even call it a shack. These are huts. I was in more than one of them in the past few weeks. The majority have dirt floors; the walls are made of woven straw mats. Or cardboard. Or plywood if they can get a little money together. Some have tin roofs; most are plastic, like you may use in construction. I have to duck to stand up inside any of them; their ceilings are only about 6 feet. They are illuminated with single light bulbs. I was headed into these after the study.
The study was good. The pastor was very encouraging for the small crowd who had gathered. After the study finished, before I could join the ladies who asked for a home visit, a lady approached me. She had a question, one that led to eternal life for her. Ana asked how she could belong to our group. I opened The Book and preached Jesus. She readily identified with her need for salvation and, with tears in her eyes, she prayed to receive the Lord. As I began her immediate follow-up, a leader from the next group of squatters came up to me, drunk and belligerent. He wanted to know what had these people done to merit my personal attention. I made him repeat himself, and afterwards told him what he needed (not wanted) to hear: God loves them; that is why we are there.
I asked him to let me continue my conversation with Ana, our new believer; but he kept interrupting. If it could get worse, I didn't believe it. And maybe things did not get worse. Maybe it was just one of those days.
I was sipping the hot chocolate they served to me while I was speaking with Luis and Ana, alternating between the two in the time I could divert Luis away from us. As I got to the bottom of the cup, I looked down. The styrofoam cup was full of little black spots. I put on my glasses and saw that those spots had even smaller legs. They were bugs! How appropriate! I had a 6 foot tall bug standing before me, interrupting my witness to this new believer. Now I had no telling how many swimming around inside my stomach.
I finally dispensed with Luis and made arrangements for Ana's discipleship. Now it was time to visit the two ladies' homes. I entered these homes with a little reluctance. They know I live better than they do; it's embarrassing for them for The Gringo to visit. But I was there at their request. We prayed, we talked, and we tried to listen to the Holy Spirit. We tried to encourage these broken women to walk with the Lord Jesus, to let him have first place in their lives.
By now it was dark. You don't want to spend much time in Oasis after dark. It's not safe. And it had been dark for close to an hour. We finally got away, bugs and all. But we all left a part of our heart in Oasis.
And so went another day at a not-so-typical Oasis, somewhere in South America.
Before the Bible study I spoke with two ladies. They both asked me to visit their "house" after the study. They called it a house; we would not even call it a shack. These are huts. I was in more than one of them in the past few weeks. The majority have dirt floors; the walls are made of woven straw mats. Or cardboard. Or plywood if they can get a little money together. Some have tin roofs; most are plastic, like you may use in construction. I have to duck to stand up inside any of them; their ceilings are only about 6 feet. They are illuminated with single light bulbs. I was headed into these after the study.
The study was good. The pastor was very encouraging for the small crowd who had gathered. After the study finished, before I could join the ladies who asked for a home visit, a lady approached me. She had a question, one that led to eternal life for her. Ana asked how she could belong to our group. I opened The Book and preached Jesus. She readily identified with her need for salvation and, with tears in her eyes, she prayed to receive the Lord. As I began her immediate follow-up, a leader from the next group of squatters came up to me, drunk and belligerent. He wanted to know what had these people done to merit my personal attention. I made him repeat himself, and afterwards told him what he needed (not wanted) to hear: God loves them; that is why we are there.
I asked him to let me continue my conversation with Ana, our new believer; but he kept interrupting. If it could get worse, I didn't believe it. And maybe things did not get worse. Maybe it was just one of those days.
I was sipping the hot chocolate they served to me while I was speaking with Luis and Ana, alternating between the two in the time I could divert Luis away from us. As I got to the bottom of the cup, I looked down. The styrofoam cup was full of little black spots. I put on my glasses and saw that those spots had even smaller legs. They were bugs! How appropriate! I had a 6 foot tall bug standing before me, interrupting my witness to this new believer. Now I had no telling how many swimming around inside my stomach.
I finally dispensed with Luis and made arrangements for Ana's discipleship. Now it was time to visit the two ladies' homes. I entered these homes with a little reluctance. They know I live better than they do; it's embarrassing for them for The Gringo to visit. But I was there at their request. We prayed, we talked, and we tried to listen to the Holy Spirit. We tried to encourage these broken women to walk with the Lord Jesus, to let him have first place in their lives.
By now it was dark. You don't want to spend much time in Oasis after dark. It's not safe. And it had been dark for close to an hour. We finally got away, bugs and all. But we all left a part of our heart in Oasis.
And so went another day at a not-so-typical Oasis, somewhere in South America.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Celebrate!
I took some men to a poor community the other day. These men, Don and Tim, were visiting from the great state of Mississippi. We went to try to share the gospel. I say "try" because you just don't know what may happen in any given moment. I went to specifically share with men, men I knew would be there because they were helping us build retaining walls on the steep, dangerous hillside this community sits upon. I knew they would be there. I knew they would not mind a break from that back-wrenching work, either.
So off we went. The first part of the journey within the community was easy. It was up the new steps we had poured just 6 weeks ago. But we got to the top and my guests were on the winded side. So was I. It was a steep climb, even on stairs. We watched the men work all around us. Soon I called to the foreman and had them bring the men into two groups, well apart from one another.
It was a dirty walk across the hill. Don's navy blue pants were now blue and brown. His brown shoes were covered with the same light-brown dust. That's partly from the dirt; it was also from the fragmented grey rocks strewn all around us. We slid down the rocks on the part of the hill where we were going to be preaching. We were both covered in dirt, Don more than I. But a little dirt would not deter us from our mission. Don joked that he hoped he did not cause a landslide coming down the hill. He looked as though he tried.
My friend Don preached to one group, with me translating. Another man translated for the other guest. Off we went, preaching the gospel. There sat those men, filling up the stairs in front of us. Don startled them with one question, "If you died today, do you know if you would spend eternity in heaven?" He had their attention. The men before me live for today. They don't like to think about eternity. Or death. Or heaven. Or hell. But now they had to. It was before them, like an open chasm for them to look into.
Don shared simply, but with passion. The men listened intently. I did my best to translate with the same passion Don showed them. He ably demonstrated by Scripture that we are all sinners. Sin has wages: death--separation from God. Someone paid the wages; his name is Jesus. Jesus died for our sin. Jesus paid the price. We can be free from those wages, if we so desire. All this Don showed in the word of God.
Before long, fifteen men bowed their heads and asked Jesus to save them. I feel that most of them were genuine in their repentance and plea for salvation. Their tears seemed to indicate it. Their hearty applause and handshakes also seemed to show it.
I wish I could take you there with these words. There are no adequate words to describe the scene that unfolded before us. It was a God-moment. I almost thought I heard the joyous shouts in heaven.
Let the celebration begin!
So off we went. The first part of the journey within the community was easy. It was up the new steps we had poured just 6 weeks ago. But we got to the top and my guests were on the winded side. So was I. It was a steep climb, even on stairs. We watched the men work all around us. Soon I called to the foreman and had them bring the men into two groups, well apart from one another.
It was a dirty walk across the hill. Don's navy blue pants were now blue and brown. His brown shoes were covered with the same light-brown dust. That's partly from the dirt; it was also from the fragmented grey rocks strewn all around us. We slid down the rocks on the part of the hill where we were going to be preaching. We were both covered in dirt, Don more than I. But a little dirt would not deter us from our mission. Don joked that he hoped he did not cause a landslide coming down the hill. He looked as though he tried.
My friend Don preached to one group, with me translating. Another man translated for the other guest. Off we went, preaching the gospel. There sat those men, filling up the stairs in front of us. Don startled them with one question, "If you died today, do you know if you would spend eternity in heaven?" He had their attention. The men before me live for today. They don't like to think about eternity. Or death. Or heaven. Or hell. But now they had to. It was before them, like an open chasm for them to look into.
Don shared simply, but with passion. The men listened intently. I did my best to translate with the same passion Don showed them. He ably demonstrated by Scripture that we are all sinners. Sin has wages: death--separation from God. Someone paid the wages; his name is Jesus. Jesus died for our sin. Jesus paid the price. We can be free from those wages, if we so desire. All this Don showed in the word of God.
Before long, fifteen men bowed their heads and asked Jesus to save them. I feel that most of them were genuine in their repentance and plea for salvation. Their tears seemed to indicate it. Their hearty applause and handshakes also seemed to show it.
I wish I could take you there with these words. There are no adequate words to describe the scene that unfolded before us. It was a God-moment. I almost thought I heard the joyous shouts in heaven.
Let the celebration begin!
Thursday, January 18, 2007
On Being Light
Yesterday an IMB media team and I road the streets of this megacity in South America. We walked among the destitute and lonely. We laughed with little children. We hugged and kissed the residents of two different communities. We looked for ways to be the light Jesus told us we were.
While both places we spoke with people were delightful, I was particularly impressed with one area where some of my colleagues work. I am their supervisor. It was my first visit to this new preaching point. Spiritually speaking it was a dark place to visit. I discerned this as soon as we stepped out of the relative safety of our Mercedes Benz van.
The media team and I stood on the streets, observing the residents of the community. It was a bitter-sweet sight. To our left stood ramshackle huts that the residents called "home." In front stood a newly-painted church, the building of the predominant religion; it was surrounded by run-down buildings people used for other homes and businesses. Children rode bikes and roller-bladed in the streets, not worrying much about cars because few could afford one. And those who could would not venture into such a neighborhood. Men and women of all ages sat on park benches in the small, unkempt park we approached. The trees were beautiful; the grass was in sore need of a good ole Yazoo lawnmower (pardon my Mississippi roots).
One cameraman rolled film. Another photographer snapped photos. Another group took notes as I explained the history of our involvement there. Soon a policeman approached, as I watched a tattoo-covered youth stroll by, staring with a hard look. The policeman told me we were being scoped out and that we were in danger. I told him I had seen the potential trouble-makers and appreciated his interest in us. He assured us they were there to help. When I translated this to my group of American visitors, they decided we should pray. I told them I agreed, but that I would be praying with my eyes wide-open. After all, thieves use the element of surprise; and I don't handle surprises very well.
We decided to leave the place of darkness. But I wasn't quite finished. I took a couple of steps toward three people sitting on a park bench. I greeted them, told them who I was and what I did, and asked if they had ever encountered my two colleagues, a husband and wife, who labored there. When I described them, they told me they knew who they were. I asked if they would do me the kindness of taking care of them, of not letting anything bad happen to them when they came. In the course of this conversation, God opened a door for me and I began to preach on the light and hope that is in Jesus.
I looked intently into the eyes of the man. He was amused, perhaps even mocking me with his eyes. I looked more closely at the woman at his side. The scratches and bruises on her face suggested that this man was probably abusive. The fear in her eyes, the deep hurt I saw, said even more. I looked to the young lady beside her. She tried to look non-chalant, cool, unattached; but you can't hide from the Holy Spirit. He was tugging at her heart, too. The more I gazed at her, the less confidence she showed.
I turned to my left. There sat tattoo-man, perched on a bicycle. On the seat behind him was another man scowling ever so fiercely. Before I knew it, about twenty people--men, women, and children--were gathered around me. The police were now very concerned. They sent two motorcycles and one car over towards us, motors running. I kept on preaching, telling this instant congregation of the one true hope they have in Jesus.
I looked at tattoo-man and saw two words inscribed on his right bicep: amor eterno--eternal love. I reached over and did the unthinkable. I touched those two words as I told them those words were exactly what I was referring to. Tattoo-man's eyes opened wide in surprise. A touch will do that, you know. A touch will bring people to a different level. The hard, suspicious look melted away. He grinned; it was a genuine smile. Something else happened, too. When he smiled, the police drove away. My suspicions were confirmed; he was their chief concern.
My chief concern was the darkness that enveloped tattoo-man and the others. I kept preaching, pleading for them to turn to Jesus. I helped them to pray, but everyone here prays. So I had to explain that they would find Jesus when they searched with their whole heart. Even tattoo-man nodded in agreement.
We turned to leave. I discovered most of my media team was standing close by the van that brought us there. My cameraman was still by my side, grinning a million-dollar grin. He felt what I felt. He knew we had shined the light in the darkness. As we left, we shook hands, hugged, and kissed the residents. They waved a friendly wave. The man with fierce scowl? He just grinned and said in English, "Thank you."
I cannot say this prophetically; but I believe we saw the birth of a church yesterday. And it happened just by being light in a dark place.
While both places we spoke with people were delightful, I was particularly impressed with one area where some of my colleagues work. I am their supervisor. It was my first visit to this new preaching point. Spiritually speaking it was a dark place to visit. I discerned this as soon as we stepped out of the relative safety of our Mercedes Benz van.
The media team and I stood on the streets, observing the residents of the community. It was a bitter-sweet sight. To our left stood ramshackle huts that the residents called "home." In front stood a newly-painted church, the building of the predominant religion; it was surrounded by run-down buildings people used for other homes and businesses. Children rode bikes and roller-bladed in the streets, not worrying much about cars because few could afford one. And those who could would not venture into such a neighborhood. Men and women of all ages sat on park benches in the small, unkempt park we approached. The trees were beautiful; the grass was in sore need of a good ole Yazoo lawnmower (pardon my Mississippi roots).
One cameraman rolled film. Another photographer snapped photos. Another group took notes as I explained the history of our involvement there. Soon a policeman approached, as I watched a tattoo-covered youth stroll by, staring with a hard look. The policeman told me we were being scoped out and that we were in danger. I told him I had seen the potential trouble-makers and appreciated his interest in us. He assured us they were there to help. When I translated this to my group of American visitors, they decided we should pray. I told them I agreed, but that I would be praying with my eyes wide-open. After all, thieves use the element of surprise; and I don't handle surprises very well.
We decided to leave the place of darkness. But I wasn't quite finished. I took a couple of steps toward three people sitting on a park bench. I greeted them, told them who I was and what I did, and asked if they had ever encountered my two colleagues, a husband and wife, who labored there. When I described them, they told me they knew who they were. I asked if they would do me the kindness of taking care of them, of not letting anything bad happen to them when they came. In the course of this conversation, God opened a door for me and I began to preach on the light and hope that is in Jesus.
I looked intently into the eyes of the man. He was amused, perhaps even mocking me with his eyes. I looked more closely at the woman at his side. The scratches and bruises on her face suggested that this man was probably abusive. The fear in her eyes, the deep hurt I saw, said even more. I looked to the young lady beside her. She tried to look non-chalant, cool, unattached; but you can't hide from the Holy Spirit. He was tugging at her heart, too. The more I gazed at her, the less confidence she showed.
I turned to my left. There sat tattoo-man, perched on a bicycle. On the seat behind him was another man scowling ever so fiercely. Before I knew it, about twenty people--men, women, and children--were gathered around me. The police were now very concerned. They sent two motorcycles and one car over towards us, motors running. I kept on preaching, telling this instant congregation of the one true hope they have in Jesus.
I looked at tattoo-man and saw two words inscribed on his right bicep: amor eterno--eternal love. I reached over and did the unthinkable. I touched those two words as I told them those words were exactly what I was referring to. Tattoo-man's eyes opened wide in surprise. A touch will do that, you know. A touch will bring people to a different level. The hard, suspicious look melted away. He grinned; it was a genuine smile. Something else happened, too. When he smiled, the police drove away. My suspicions were confirmed; he was their chief concern.
My chief concern was the darkness that enveloped tattoo-man and the others. I kept preaching, pleading for them to turn to Jesus. I helped them to pray, but everyone here prays. So I had to explain that they would find Jesus when they searched with their whole heart. Even tattoo-man nodded in agreement.
We turned to leave. I discovered most of my media team was standing close by the van that brought us there. My cameraman was still by my side, grinning a million-dollar grin. He felt what I felt. He knew we had shined the light in the darkness. As we left, we shook hands, hugged, and kissed the residents. They waved a friendly wave. The man with fierce scowl? He just grinned and said in English, "Thank you."
I cannot say this prophetically; but I believe we saw the birth of a church yesterday. And it happened just by being light in a dark place.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Make the Main Thing the Main Thing
Happy New Year. Once I discovered how to persuade my newly-installed internet filter to allow me to access blogs, I proceeded to read some that I particularly enjoy. One of those blogs presented an interesting apologetic regarding the direction of the SBC (I intentionally left out the name and address of that blog). As I waded through this man's observations, I kept coming back to a fundamental problem, one that supercedes the potential ones that I read about.
The problem that prevails in my mind is the fact that far too many Southern Baptist churches did not baptize anyone last year. Far too many more only baptized a handful. Here is what I see and think: the local churches have fallen out of love with Jesus. I am not convinced a man is called to a church to make that church appealing to his community. We are in a struggle against the darkness, against the world. A pastor is not around to make his church attractive to the world. He is called to a church to lead that church to win the lost, disciple those converts, to expand the kingdom of God through missions, and to glorify the King of kings. He is called to be salt and light, and to fill the salt shaker so that more of that salt can be scattered around the world.
That impacts me down here in South America far more than some may realize. At some point in the next 15 years, someone will be called upon to take my place. If we are not winning more, who will come stand in the gap in places where the gospel has yet to take root?
I believe that one of the many things that must take place in the SBC is a renewed passion for Jesus, which will result in a renewed passion for the lost. When David should have gone to battle, he stayed behind. The result was his sin with Bathsheba. When Southern Baptists should be going to battle for lost souls, we are spending a lot of time inspecting one another's baggage. Nothing positive will come of it.
I appreciate and share the concerns for the best future for the SBC. But let's get on with making the main thing the main thing.
The problem that prevails in my mind is the fact that far too many Southern Baptist churches did not baptize anyone last year. Far too many more only baptized a handful. Here is what I see and think: the local churches have fallen out of love with Jesus. I am not convinced a man is called to a church to make that church appealing to his community. We are in a struggle against the darkness, against the world. A pastor is not around to make his church attractive to the world. He is called to a church to lead that church to win the lost, disciple those converts, to expand the kingdom of God through missions, and to glorify the King of kings. He is called to be salt and light, and to fill the salt shaker so that more of that salt can be scattered around the world.
That impacts me down here in South America far more than some may realize. At some point in the next 15 years, someone will be called upon to take my place. If we are not winning more, who will come stand in the gap in places where the gospel has yet to take root?
I believe that one of the many things that must take place in the SBC is a renewed passion for Jesus, which will result in a renewed passion for the lost. When David should have gone to battle, he stayed behind. The result was his sin with Bathsheba. When Southern Baptists should be going to battle for lost souls, we are spending a lot of time inspecting one another's baggage. Nothing positive will come of it.
I appreciate and share the concerns for the best future for the SBC. But let's get on with making the main thing the main thing.
Friday, December 01, 2006
Shine the Light!
Last night I participated in the 5th anniversary of a local church, located in the southern part of our city. It was a moving experience. I was moved when I arrived; I was early, even though the announced beginning time had come and gone. So I sat in the car and used the reading lamp to go over my notes for the message I intended to preach that night. I read and I watched the activity around me.
Outside, under the dull, dust-covered, yellow street lights, people walked to and fro. Significantly, many of the young men and women I watched were gang members. That was not a surprise; I knew it. It's something a person better know if he or she is out in this part of town.
The pastor of this church knew it, too, when he decided God was calling him to plant this church. It was a community rife with gang activity. But he pressed on with dogged determination. His original target was the meanest gang leader there. And he won the young man, now a leader in his little church. Then he won most of the other gang members that young man belonged to. One gang down, a dozen more to go.
Pedro continues to reach into the gangs. Some of them came last night. They were mildly timid in front of me, all the while eyeing my car. When they weren't eyeing the car, they were checking out the girls. But they stood in the door and listened to the message of Christ. Pedro's wife told me they were on the verge of turning it all over to Jesus.
These gang members, by the way, are all under 18. Some won't live to see 18. Gangs often have wars in this part of our city. They pull out guns, machetes, rocks, bottles, and anything else that can hurt their rivals. The gangs don't think twice about hurting one another. And someone almost always dies.
So Pedro is there, telling them about someone else who died for them. It's a story he loves to tell. It's a light that shines brighter than those dull, yellow, dusty street lights. That light shines brigher than the sun. It's a light that penetrates the tough facades these guys put up.
So I tell Pedro and his church, "Shine the Light!"
And they will.
Outside, under the dull, dust-covered, yellow street lights, people walked to and fro. Significantly, many of the young men and women I watched were gang members. That was not a surprise; I knew it. It's something a person better know if he or she is out in this part of town.
The pastor of this church knew it, too, when he decided God was calling him to plant this church. It was a community rife with gang activity. But he pressed on with dogged determination. His original target was the meanest gang leader there. And he won the young man, now a leader in his little church. Then he won most of the other gang members that young man belonged to. One gang down, a dozen more to go.
Pedro continues to reach into the gangs. Some of them came last night. They were mildly timid in front of me, all the while eyeing my car. When they weren't eyeing the car, they were checking out the girls. But they stood in the door and listened to the message of Christ. Pedro's wife told me they were on the verge of turning it all over to Jesus.
These gang members, by the way, are all under 18. Some won't live to see 18. Gangs often have wars in this part of our city. They pull out guns, machetes, rocks, bottles, and anything else that can hurt their rivals. The gangs don't think twice about hurting one another. And someone almost always dies.
So Pedro is there, telling them about someone else who died for them. It's a story he loves to tell. It's a light that shines brighter than those dull, yellow, dusty street lights. That light shines brigher than the sun. It's a light that penetrates the tough facades these guys put up.
So I tell Pedro and his church, "Shine the Light!"
And they will.
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