Life Together

Greetings to All,

     Our “thought” for this week comes from Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German pastor who was martyred by the Nazi's one month before the end of World War II.  Though his most famous book was, "The Cost of Discipleship" (where he warned people against adopting the unbiblical substitute for real grace which he called "cheap grace") this thought comes from ideas expressed in his superb book on Christian community entitled, "Life Together."   If you have never read it, it is well worth your time (and the price of the book)!   It's all about those things that are necessary for true Christian community to take place.  Enjoy.

     “Acknowledgement of sin in the presence of another brother is a safeguard against self-deception.  It is a curious fact that many people find it easier to confess their sins privately to a holy and sinless God than to openly confess them to an unholy and sinful brother.  If this is so, we must ask ourselves if we are really confessing our sins to God?  We must ask ourselves whether we have not been deceiving ourselves with our confession of sin to God – whether we have not, rather, been confessing our sins to ourselves, and also granting ourselves absolution.  Is this not perhaps the reason for our countless relapses and the feebleness of our Christian obedience?  Is it not to be found precisely in the fact that we are living on self-forgiveness and not a real forgiveness?

     When sin has been brought into the light and confessed it can be forgiven.  Its power can be broken.  It can no longer hold the believer in bondage or tear the fellowship apart.  The sinner can honestly be a sinner and still enjoy the grace of God and the love of the brethren.  This is the moment where fellowship in Christ becomes a profound reality. [When sin is openly confessed – even the worst of sins – and the love of our brethren continues to be extended to us in spite of it, we approach the profound and transforming reality of community.]

     Open confession of sin to another so crucifies one's pride that rarely ever occurs unless a person earnestly yearns to be rid of his sin.  By openly confessing his sin he breaks the habit of secretly cherishing, nurturing or refusing to let it go.  He becomes accountable.  He gains the support of his praying brothers in his fight to overcome its life-polluting influences.  In essence, he begins to live the life of discipleship." 

     Elsewhere Bonhoeffer equated sin with mold that grows in a damp, dark, cool basement.  How does one rid a basement of that growing mold? They open the windows, let the exposure to the air dry it out, and let the bright light of the sun shine upon it until it dries out and is easily brushed off. 

     Confession of sin is like that.  When we expose sin to the light through confession, in the presence of a brother (for me) or sister (for women), it begins to lose it's life or power, dry up and die.  But if we keep it hidden -- locked away in the dark and damp cellar of secret and repressed memories or emotions -- it will only fester and grow. There is healing, as James reminds us, in confession of sin accompanied by prayer for healing (James 5:13-16). 

     "Confession is good for the soul," as the old adage goes. (Yet one must be careful in their selection of a brother (for men) or sister (for women) to confess to. Trust, confidentiality and godliness would be essential traits.)  Hard as it is to expose some things to the light, it is much more harmful to our spirit to hold it in and keep it hidden and shut up in the dark basement of our emotions.

     In the Service of the Gospel and Church, Pastor Jeff

Addiction and Grace

Greetings All!

Sitting in my office, my eyes scanned the book shelves and fell upon one particular book: "Addiction and Grace" by Gerald G. May, M.D.  It's an intriguing title, because those two words describe the universal struggle and only remedy for humanity.  Don't let the length deter you!  Some spiritual journeys can't be condensed to a paragraph or two!   It's a worthwhile read for anyone, but especially for those trying to help and love people trapped by addictions -- which as he points out, includes all of us to varying degrees.  The "Introduction" is from years of study, experience and reflection.  It is followed by his own "Personal Testimony."  I found what he says very helpful.  Enjoy.

Introduction:
     "After many years of listening to the yearnings of people's hearts, I am convinced that all human beings have an inborn desire for God. Whether we are consciously religious or not, this desire is our deepest longing and our most precious treasure. It gives us meaning. Some of us have repressed this desire, burying it beneath so many other interests that we are completely unaware of it.  Or we may experience it in different ways -- as a longing for wholeness, completion, or fulfillment. Regardless of how we describe it, it is a hunger to love, to be loved, and to move closer to the Source of love...  Modern theology describes this desire as God-given. In an outpouring of love, God creates us and plants the seeds of this desire within us. Then, throughout our lives, God nourishes this desire...

     But something gets in the way...  We become addicted to other things....  A self-defeating force that abuses our freedom makes us do things we really do not want to do (Romans 7:15)... Moreover, our addictions are our own worst enemies. They enslave us with chains that are of our own making and yet paradoxically, are virtually beyond our control.  Addiction attaches to desire and enslaves the energy of desire to certain specific behaviors, things or people. These objects of attachment then become preoccupations and obsessions They come to rule our lives. The word "attachment"... comes from the old French "atache" meaning, "nailed to."  Attachment "nails" our desires to specific objects or things -- alcohol, narcotics, ideas, work, relationships, power, fantasies, money, moods, and an endless variety of other things...  Addiction makes idolaters of all of us, because it forces us to worship objects of attachment, thereby preventing us from truly loving God and one another... It is the absolute enemy of human freedom and the antipathy of love.  Yet, in still another paradox, our addictions can lead us to a deep appreciation of grace. They can bring us to our knees....

Personal Testimony:

     It was in working with some of the most tragically addicted people -- those enslaved to narcotics and alcohol -- that I began wondering about addiction and grace. It was there also that I began to recognize my own addictedness. Most importantly, it was in the course of that work that I reclaimed my own spiritual hunger, a desire for God, and for love that many years had tried to repress.

     As nearly as I can recall, the repression of my spiritual desire began shortly after my father died. I was nine at the time.  Prior to that, I had had a comfortable relationship with God. As with all children, the earliest years of my life were "simply religious." In the innocent wonder and awe of early childhood awareness, everything just is "spiritual."  My religious education had given me a name for God, but I hardly needed it. I prayed easily; God was a friend.  In a reaction typical for a nine year old, I expected God to somehow keep me in touch with my father after his death. I prayed for this, but of course it did not happen. As a result, something hurt and angry in me, something deeper than my consciousness, chose to dispense with God. I would take care of myself. I would go it alone. My wanting -- my love -- had caused me to be hurt, and something in me decided not to want so much. I repressed my longing. Just as my father faded from my awareness, so did God, and so did my desire for God.

     During college, I fell in love with literature and philosophy. In retrospect, I think this was my desire for God resurfacing again as a search for beauty and truth. I even tried to go to church on occasion, but I wasn't consciously looking for God. By then I was searching for something that I could use to develop a sense of mastery over my life, something that would help me go it alone. In medical school and psychiatric training, I tried to make a god out of science. Science seemed learn-able, master-able, and controllable.  Throughout, I resisted prayer and rebelled at religiosity in others. Such things seemed immature; they were signs of weakness. I wanted to be autonomous, although I wasn't completely sure what that word meant. 

     I was in the Air Force during the Vietnam War.  Much in the Vietnam experience I had to repress. But much of it I could not repress. In a way, the tragedy of Vietnam woke me up a little.  Afterward, I took a position as director of a community drug abuse clinic.  With all the energy that might be expected of a young doctor, I applied my best psychiatric methods to the treatment of addictions. None of them worked. I was able to help people with their emotional and social problems, but but they remained addicted to chemicals. Since so much of my desire for meaning and wholeness had become attached to professional success, and I was not being successful, I started to become depressed. A colleague called it, "a normal professional depression."  He went on to say, "All decent psychiatrists experience such depressions when they can't cure the people they treat.  If you didn't feel depressed, it would mean you didn't care enough."  It was some consolation. But not much.

     Then one day in the middle of this depression I was casually introduced to a faith healer at a conference in a nearby town.  I did not believe in faith healers, but as we shook hands she paused, holding my hand, and told me she thought I was meant to be a healer too, but, "I wouldn't take my dog to you, because you think you are the one that has to do the healing."  These are not words one might expect to be helpful for a depressed person.  But they struck me deep and well.  In my search for self-determination, I had also been trying to command the very process of healing. It was obvious that some change in attitude was called for. I still wasn't certain, however, what form that change should take.

     At about that same time, I embarked on a little informal research. I identified a few people who seemed to have overcome serious addictions to alcohol and drugs , and I asked them what had helped them turn their lives around so dramatically. All of them described some sort of spiritual experience. They kindly acknowledged their appreciation for the professional help they had received, but they also made it clear that this help had not been the source of their healing.  What had healed them was something spiritual. They didn't all use religious terms, but there was no doubt in my mind that what they spoke of was spiritual.

     Something about what they said reminded me of home. It had something to do with turning to God.  As a result I relaxed a little. I honestly considered there might be some power greater than myself involved in healing, and that I might be better off cooperating with that power instead of trying to usurp it.  I also set about trying to understand more of what constituted "spiritual experience" and why it had been so helpful to these addicted people... I described these spiritual experiences to some clergy friends. Most of them didn't seem to understand what I was talking about. The least helpful friends tried to give me Freudian explanations.  "Why, it's simply a narcissistic regression of the ego to a state of infantile dissociation in order to avoid reality issues that have stimulated unacceptable libidinous impulses."  They said such things as if I should have known them already. But the problem was I did know them already, and knowing them didn't help... 

     I studied Eastern religions, psychic phenomena, psychedelic drugs, biofeedback, all the great stew of psychological pop and pap that was percolating across the nation at the time. I read Alan Watts and Baba Ram Dass. I mediated every day. From a comfortable distance I watched the charismatic renewal in Christian churches, and from an equal distance, I sensed something powerful I couldn't understand in Alcoholics Anonymous. One evening about six months after my quest began, I was diligently practicing a form of Yoga meditation that encouraged the free coming and going of all thoughts. It is a method that might be described as the opposite of repression. In the freedom I gave to my mind, one of the thoughts that came was prayer. It was, in the beginning, the prayer of a nine year old, embarrassingly immature. "Dear Jesus, help me." I would have stifled it immediately had   it not been dutifully allowing all my thoughts to come and go. It was a sad and painful thing just to let that prayer happen, but it did. 

     As months and years passed, the prayer grew, and with it, my awareness of my desire for God.  I realized my exploration was less a professional research project and more a personal spiritual journey. I was not in control of my life. I needed as much of God's grace as any of my patients did.  With that growing realization, my spiritual desire seemed to pick up where it had left off some 20 years earlier.  Now it was out in the light again, and I gradually became able to reclaim it as my true hearts desire and the most precious thing in my life." 

     When I read testimonies, I seek to compare my own journey to the paths others followed.  There were places where my path crisscrossed that of Gerald May.  That may be true for others who were children of the 60's, 70's and early 80's.  The tendency to look to other "saviors" before we return to the One who truly is, is not uncommon.  How right he is when he says, "Addiction attaches to desire and enslaves the energy of desire to certain specific behaviors, things, or people. These objects of attachment then become preoccupations and obsessions. They come to rule our lives."   And once they do, only God's all powerful and relentless grace can liberate us from those addictions and restore us to sanity and the freedom to follow Him. To root out those idols which are, "the absolute enemy of human freedom and the antipathy of love."      

Living in the Grace of Jesus, Pastor Jeff

He Touched Me - My Pilgrimage of Prayer

Greetings All,

     After sending out my "thought"  last week from John Powell's book, "He Touched Me - My Pilgrimage of Prayer,"  and receiving the positive response I got back as a result, I thought I would send out one more from the same book.  This selection has to do with honest "self-disclosure" with God in our times of prayer.  I have found what he says to be true to my own experience and have recommended it to others. Therefore, I also commend it to you.  Enjoy. 

     "I hear Jesus say, "Without me you can do nothing. You can bear no fruit. I am the Vine and you are the branches. Cut off from me you are dead."  I hear St. John say that only he who knows God can know the meaning of love.  I hear St. Paul describe love as the highest and greatest gift of the Spirit.  Wherever I have found love I have felt the presence of God; God at work in the minds and hearts and muscles of people.

     My experience of God has been working this transformation in me, too. Oh, I am still a very selfish person. God is not finished with me yet. Others may not think of me as a very effective lover, but they do not know the before and after; they cannot read the motives of the heart. The process of divinization, in which God makes us more and more into his image and likeness, is a slow and gradual process.  I am still a pilgrim.  But I have been touched and I am partially transformed. This is the basis of my hope. The God who has touched me in the past will act again and again in my life. Over and over again I will feel his finger and find him.

     Where has all this led me? Where has God, through all this, been leading me? I now understand and approach prayer as communication in a relationship of love, a speaking and listening in truth and in trust. Speaking to God honestly is the beginning of prayer.  It locates a person before God.  I believe that the primary "giving" of love is the giving of one's self through self-disclosure. Without such self-disclosure there is not real giving, for it is only in that moment when we are willing to put our true selves on the line, to be taken for better or for worse, to be accepted or rejected, that true interpersonal encounter begins.  We do not begin to offer ourselves to others until we offer ourselves in this way, for love demands presence, not presents. All my "gifts" (presents) are a mere motion until I have given my true self (presence) in honest self-revelation.

     As in all interpersonal relationships, so in the relationship with God. I do not put myself into his hands or confront his freedom of choice to accept or reject me, to love or loathe me, until I have told him who I really am. Only then can I ask him: Will you have me?  Will you let me be yours? Will you be mine? Martin Luther's first law of success in prayer was: "Don't lie to God!"  In speaking to God in the dialogue of prayer, we must reveal our true and naked selves. We must tell him the truth of our thoughts, desires, and feelings, whatever they may be.  They may not be what I would like them to be, but they are not right or wrong, true or false. They are me.

     I am sure that this has benefited me in many other ways, but certainly it has enabled to speak more honestly to my God. It has freed me from the lie of those prefabricated pious cliches that are death to true conversational prayer.  I have told him where I really live -- in belief and unbelief. I have told him of my weariness in answering his call.  Of the emotional resentment I feel at being a public utility, a servant to be used and taken for granted. I have ventilated all my neurotic, throbbing emotions... I have been like Job of the Old Testament, cursing the day he made me, and like the prophet Jeremiah, accusing God of making not a prophet, but a fool of me. I have been a King David singing of his mercy and forgiveness, which I have always needed along the way of my pilgrimage.

     There is something so healing about "letting it all out" with God. The psychiatrist Karl Jung defined neurosis in terms of an inner cleavage, a war within, the existence of fraction-hood or inward division. With Paul we all know that there is, "another law warring in my members."  The real problem is confronted when we come to the question of our willingness to accept ourselves in this human condition of weakness. Will we be comfortable as a fraction, a creature of ambiguity whose evil is always mixed somehow with good and whose good is always somehow tainted with evil?

     I am sure that my comfort in this human condition depends for me on whether God will accept me this way or not.  I am worth only what I am worth in his eyes.  All the rest is charade. So, I have to put myself on the line the way I am. Charades with God is wasted time. I have to place myself in the posture of trusting his greatness and understanding. This is the essential beginning of prayer."

     Self-disclosure with God requires two things:

     1st) It requires the assurance we will not be rejected for what we share. That is, we need to be assured of the Gospel doctrine of justification; that our acceptance is secured through another on our behalf. That God accepts us fully for Jesus sake, through faith in Him.  Or to put it in theological terms, we must believe the message of the Gospel -- that our justification is not dependent upon our sanctification or performance, but just the opposite!  If we do not believe this, then complete honesty with God and others is nearly impossible.

     2nd) To be searingly honest with God I must believe the biblical declaration that the God  who loves and accepts me in Jesus is all-knowing (Psalm 139:1-4). We must believe that there is nothing hidden from Him, not even the secret things we alone know about ourselves (Ecclesiastes 12:14).  If we think we can hide something from God, we will.  It's not until we know He knows all that we are, that we are  freed to share what we truly feel and struggle with - that mishmash of conflicting desires and compulsions Paul speaks of in Romans 7.  In fact, believing that God knows all, even the secret things, makes anything but complete openness and honesty and transparency and truthfulness with God seem so utterly childish and foolish -- like the child who naively thinks he's not fully exposed to the sight of others simply because he covers his own eyes with his hands! 

     God's omniscience actually beckons me to be completely truthful with him, because it assures me he already knows everything I'm thinking, feeling, and even repressing.  It helps me realize that in prayer he simply wants to hear me tell him what he already knows about me!  It's part of healing that neurotic cleavage and fraction-hood and bringing me (and you) to wholeness. And Powell is right, it does open the door to become the true beginning of real prayer.  Then honest communication replaces the pious cliches we often use to mask the truth of who we are and experience God loving even the darkest parts of us.

In the Bonds of the Transforming Truth of the Gospel,  Pastor Jeff

Who Is This That Cures The Sick?

Greetings All,

     Today I offer you a true story of healing found in the book, "He Touched Me" by John Powell (a professor of psychology and theology who also had his own counseling practice). The healing of a patient he had diagnosed as "neurotic" (always complaining, always indecisive, very egocentric, and forever absorbed in the memories of her painful past). Yet, much to his surprise she was delivered from that ailment through an encounter with Jesus -- an encounter with Jesus that not only changed her, but him. Much of the small book (95 pages) focuses on learning how to be completely open, honest and transparent with God in prayer. It was a point he learned from the Reformer, Martin Luther, whose first law of successful praying was: "Don't lie to God!"   He also notes that honest "self-disclosure" is imperative to any true praying and is the essence of true love. This story follows the heading in his book entitled: "Who Is This That Cures The Sick?"   Enjoy.

     "At the end of the summer just before our university classes were to begin, I answered the phone to hear the voice of a [woman I had counseled numerous times without any success]. I knew she would want another appointment and would want another to agonize along with her while she resurrected the same old problems...  But how the Spirit loves to surprise us!  The voice I heard on the phone was somehow the same, yet somehow different. My "keen diagnostic ear" said that there was a new peace in her. I had to ask several times, "Who is this?" She quietly and peacefully said that she did NOT want an appointment, that she knew I was busy and did not want to take any more of my time. The only purpose for the call, she said, was to thank me for my time and patience and the help I had given her over the last three years.  I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

     There was all the resonance of sincerity, but such abrupt personality changes just do not happen in real life. So I said: "You're different, aren't you?" And she replied, "Oh yes!" "What happened? I asked.  "I met Jesus Christ." 'You what?" I queried.  "I met Jesus Christ. Before this I knew about Him, but now I know Him."  "If you tell me you had a vision...," I started to say. "No, no vision. But I did meet Jesus Christ."  Then I told her, "I don't know whether you want to see me, but I want to see you."

     When she came to my office my eye confirmed what my ear had led me to suspect This was a "healed" person. I do not mean to detract one iota from the contribution they make to the lives of wounded human beings, but clinical psychology and psychiatry must not be allowed to pose as saviors or redeemers. Therapy can never be a substitute for a life of faith. I knew, from my training in psychology, that no reputable therapist could ever promise this kind of "cure," this new "wholeness." There is no plastic surgery to remove the psychological scars that all of us bear to some extent. By supportive psychotherapy we can be comforted, and by reconstructive psychotherapy we can be somewhat readjusted and develop new coping mechanisms, but... we cannot be healed or cured. This woman, seated before me, expressing gratitude and claiming to have met Jesus Christ, was "healed." She knew it and I knew it.

     Without overtones of pride or egotism, she told me of her experience. She was invited to a prayer meeting. She told me how she decided to go, not really to pray, but to be able to say later that she had, "tried everything, even prayer meetings."  However she was not prepared for the opening announcement of the leader of the prayer meeting.  He began: "We have come here tonight to pray. And if you can find it in your heart to join us, please stay.  We both need and want you.  But I have a feeling that some of you may have come out of curiosity, like spiritual Peeping Toms to see what goes on at prayer meetings. If this is why you came, and if you cannot find it in your heart to join us in reaching out to God, then I would like to ask you respectfully to leave."  O my God, she thought, decision number one!  She did decide to stay, trying to pry her mind away from the "exit" sign, to turn it to the Lord. Then she heard one of the leaders of the group urge the others to "open" themselves to the Lord. "Open all the doors and windows of your soul to the Lord. Don't keep any rooms locked or closed off to Him. Let Jesus take over. The depth of the faith that releases the power of God is measured by your willingness to let God direct your life... Surrender your life and your heart to Him." 

     She felt helpless to direct her own life successfully, and so, at the exhortation of one of the other people in the prayer group, she sincerely and almost desperately invited Jesus to come into her soul, her life, her world.  She offered God her unconditional surrender and He took her at her word, accepted her gift, became her Lord.  "For so many years," she told me, "there had been a high, hard, impenetrable wall between God and myself. I used to throw my little gifts over the wall and hope that someone was on the other side receiving them. It was impersonal, unsatisfying. But I thought it was the best I could do or even hope for. Somehow, in that moment -- perhaps it was due to all the other people in the room praying for each other -- the wall came down. Somehow Jesus was standing there with arms held out to embrace me. I knew Jesus as real for the first time."  While my friend continued to describe her moment of grace, God was somehow, strangely, having another moment with and in me. I was remembering hungrily all the things that had somehow slipped out of my hands, out of my life.  I was remembering the night He "touched" me...

     In the days that followed, I began to pray with a new intensity. From the early morning shower till the darkened moments while waiting for sleep, I kept inviting Jesus into my house of many rooms. I kept reassuring Him that I was ready to admit my own bankruptcy, my own helplessness to direct my life, to find peace and joy. I constantly invited the Holy Spirit to take down my walls, to destroy the barricades that were so many years in the building. I asked the Spirit to free me from the ingrained habit of competition, from the insatiable hunger for success, from the need for recognition and adulation.  What began to happen in me almost immediately can be compared only to springtime. It seemed as though I had been through a long, hard-frozen wintertime. My heart and soul had suffered all the barrenness, the nakedness of nature in winter. Now in the springtime of the Spirit, it seemed as though the veins of my soul were thawing, as though blood was beginning to course through my soul again, and new beauty began to appear in me and around me." 

     There is something about a person who has truly encountered Jesus, and been changed by the Holy Spirit, that makes us yearn to experience what they have.  In fact, this "thought" is dedicated to such an individual -- a good friend and true man of God from my church who passed away unexpectedly on Saturday -- Steve Reall.  His relationship with God (whom he always referred to as "Abba") was passionate, very real, honest, and transparent. Thank you Steve for your friendship, and prayers, and for being to me an example of a true committed soldier of Christ and lover of Jesus looks like.  Your example will not be forgotten. 

Living in the Grace of Jesus, Pastor Jeff

Praying with The Puritans

Greetings All,

     This past weekend I attended a conference in Pittsburgh, PA, for the CCO (Coalition For Christian Outreach) where there just happened to be a bookseller.  My curiosity got the best of me, and I walked over to see what books were on the shelves.  I practiced great restraint (for me) and ended up walking out with only four new books to add to my library!  One, which was entitled: "Kneeling With Giants - Learning To Pray With History's Best Teachers," by Gary Neal Hansen, caught my attention.

     I've only gotten through two of it's chapters so far, but I found one section both interesting and helpful.  It's called, "Praying with The Puritans" and encourages us to use their common form of praying by meditation and writing.  Enjoy.

Praying With The Puritans

     "Back in student days, after a bad breakup, my journal saved my sanity. I bought a little black book to hold my dark, grieving thoughts, and in it I poured out lamentation, confusion and anger. I wrote, and wrote, and wrote, until I didn't need to anymore.  A couple years later, I looked back and found that pretty much every page was the same. You could say writing was a kind of therapy, but for me it was prayer. God was listening. Healing came.

     I often pray best with a pen.... Writing in my journal draws me quickly and surely into God's company. God is there, listening, and I find myself understood and accepted. That changes me. It may seem an odd and indirect form of prayer -- I do not start each journal entry with "Dear God" -- but if prayer is conversation, the act of writing allows me to take my part of the dialogue seriously.  It slows me down, and hidden things come to light.  Burdens are lifted. Insights and possibilities emerge....

     To all who resist writing as a way of prayer, I plead for an imaginative openness. A great many people find that writing sparks spiritual growth.... The first time I tried to write in a journal, I found myself so anxious I destroyed every page. I was not afraid that someone would see it. The struggle was with myself. Here were my feelings, the insides of me, spread out on a page. I felt almost naked. Later, and to my own surprise, I tried again. Soon writing in my journal was the way to come honestly to God and find grace. All I can say is that it is worth it to keep coming back to the experiment of prayerful writing...  If this is a new way to pray, it can be a challenge. The good news is that many Christians have prayed this way throughout history.  And there is no better example than the Puritans.

     Now, before you start rolling your eyes, let me say that these sixteenth and seventeenth-century Calvinists from England and then America have gotten a bad rap. We assume the joke is true that a Puritan is defined as someone terribly afraid that someone, somewhere, is having fun.  In literature class we read The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864) or The Crucible by Arthur Miller (1915-2005) [neither one of which ever met or had any interaction with a Puritan] and forever after when we hear "Puritan" we picture poor Hester Prynne being judged and shamed, or the horror of the Salem witch trials.  However, if you read what the Puritans wrote about the Christian life, the picture changes. They brought single-minded passion to their pursuit of God. They lived with a focused, prayerful longing to be made new in Christ. They may have been more conscious of sin than most Christians are today, but they were also more aware of God's blessings and grace. These were inner experiences, but I can describe them confidently because when they prayed about them they often did so with pen in hand. Written approaches to prayer were so important to the Puritans that they wrote manuals to teach each other how to do it. 

     The Puritans, as Calvinists, had a very heavy doctrine of providence, believing that God was actively involved in virtually everything in their lives and the world. Today the idea has fallen on hard times. Many assume God is not actively involved, or they look at things that happen in the world and wonder what God could possibly have been thinking. Providence filled John Beadle (an English Puritan who lived from 1595-1667 and wrote "Diary of a Thankful Christian") with a sense of wonder. He claimed that if we only looked, we would see God's name, wisdom, power and faithfulness in every blade of grass and every drop of rain. Nurturing awareness of providence can bring us to awe as well. Believing, as Elizabeth Barrett Browning put it, "earth's crammed with heaven, and every common bush alive with God" makes it more likely that we will notice God at work, take off our shoes, and kneel.

     Beadle lists a number of topics to write about in our journals. Some are more clearly powerful than others, but they all help us move forward in seeing God at work, and giving thanks, knowing God better and loving God more. 

            1.) "Let every man keep a strict account of his effectual calling." "Effectual calling" is the Puritan term for the way God got through and made you a Christian... 

       2.) "Take special notice of all divine assistance.. either in the performance of the duties that are required of us, or in bearing those evils that are inflicted upon us." 
       3.) "Remember, and for that end put into your journal all deliverance's from dangers, either to you or yours."
       4.) "All the instruments, all the people and means that God has in providence at any time used for your good, must not be forgotten." 
       5.) "And finally, mark what returns, what answers God gives to your prayers, and write them down... as most remarkable pledges of His love." 

     When I first became a believer (38 yeas ago) I did this very thing more often (having no idea the Puritans had done it before me). I even have those journals in my possession still, and the answers to many prayers recorded there. But in our fast paced society that habit fell by the wayside. Thankfully, this chapter convinced me I need to pick up my pen and journal again.  You may want to give it a try as well. After all, how could one not benefit from prayerfully writing about God's grace and involvement in their lives, or recording for future days a written record to remind them of His power, providence, intervention, rescue, provision, and daily expressions of kindness?  I dare say it could do everyone nothing but good! 

In His Service, Pastor Jeff

Not a Fan

Greetings All!

     Today's 'thought' comes to you once again from Kyle Idleman's book, "Not a Fan."  This is another one of the testimonies of people who were either not believers at all, or "fans" of Jesus at one point in their lives, but at some point in their lives realized that they yearned for something deeper than the superficial "go through the motions" religion they had been following.  In most cases -- usually as a result of going through sickness, or trauma, or addiction, or coming close to death -- the superficial showed itself for what it was as it could not sustain them in such times.

     These people, driven by pain, or a crisis that drove them to the end of themselves (and showed them their inability to control everything in life), surrendered to the only One who is really ever in control. They ceased being a "fan" of Jesus and became a true disciple and follower of Jesus.  This is Vijay Warrier's testimony - a man raised in India in the Hindu faith who grew up believing that the gods had given him favor.  Vijay was born as a Brahman, the highest caste of priests and had a mother who served as a priestess. Yet later in life, he would meet the Jesus who would change and bring a sense of fulfillment to his soul.  Enjoy.

     "I remember when my wife Girija grew very interested in the Bible and began attending church. It wasn't something I believed in or wanted to have anything to do with. I agreed to drive her to church, but I just sat in the car and smoked a few cigarettes. Sometimes my thoughts would wander to growing up in India, and being raised in the Hindu faith where my mother was a priestess in an Indian temple.

     My marriage had been arranged, but Gurija knew that our marriage wasn't just a forced agreement that was set up by our parents; there was a chemistry between us. I tried to be patient with her interest in the Bible. Gurija had attended a Christian school some years back, and that was how she had learned about Jesus. Our differing religious beliefs didn't help our unity in marriage. Looking back on the first ten years of our marriage, I see mostly conflict and frustration. 

     By 2005 Guija was going to church every weekend. I'm not sure why, but one weekend, instead of sitting in the car smoking and waiting for Girija to get out of church, I decided to go inside for a cup of coffee in the church cafe. There was a small cafe in the church where I sat with my coffee and couldn't help but overhear the sermon that was being broadcast from the sanctuary onto the video screen in front of me. I listened to the preacher for a while, intrigued by his words. From that point on, I sat in the cafe each Sunday morning, drinking coffee and listening to the sermons.

     One week Gurija asked me to come with her into a prayer room. "We have so many problems," she said, "we need someone to pray with us."  Even though I didn't believe in this kind of prayer, I went with her. In the prayer room, we met a husband and wife named Linn and Carol, and they spent some time praying with us.  Full of questions after hearing so many sermons, I began to ask Linn about Christianity. Over the next year, he and Carol answered many of my questions. Linn studied the Bible with me, praying for me often. Still, I wasn't familiar with the idea of just one god. This went against everything I had learned as a boy. Even worse, I knew that if I were to become a Christian, my family back in India would disown me. They would be so disappointed in me.

     But after much studying, prayer, and support from church members, I began to realize something incredible. For forty-two years I had been looking for something, for someone. That person was Jesus. I decided to allow him to work in me.  I needed it.  My marriage needed it -- we'd already had divorce papers drawn up and begun living separately.  It was now or never and I knew only Jesus could save me.

     So the next Sunday I professed my belief in Christ and was baptized. Right after being baptized, I baptized my two sons who also came to believe. That same day I moved back with my family. God has a plan for me, and he can heal all wounds and answer all questions. My name is Vijay Warrier, and I am not a fan." 

     A lot of us get confused and believe we are followers of Christ, when in fact we are simply fans attending church, week after week, lacking true intimacy with Christ. Vijay started to become a fan by believing in one God, and then over time, he began to experience God by engaging in the process of developing true intimacy with Him through God's grace in Jesus Christ.  "Fans" don’t mind making minor changes, or little touch ups, to decorate their lives. But it's not until they are "followers" that they don’t even mind Jesus overhauling, severely interfering, and turning their lives upside down!  And you?

    In the Service of Jesus, Pastor Jeff