Spiritual Renewal

Greetings!

     This week's "thought" is about spiritual renewal.  Its about the power and presence of Christ and the Holy Spirit in our lives.  It comes to you from Jim Cymbala's book, "Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire."  Cymbala has been the pastor of the large multi-racial "Brooklyn Tabernacle" since 1971, a church which had only 30 when he arrived that year, but now has over 16,000 members -- which is not, as this thought will show, what he really cares about.

     The Brooklyn Tabernacle is a church which has, by God's grace, broken down many racial and economic barriers, offering in the present a small taste of the multi-ethnic, multi-cultural, inclusive body of Christ, where believers of every tribe and tongue, rich and poor alike, will one day gather side by side before the throne of God (Rev. 7:9).  Part instruction, part biographical, his book is well-worth the read if you have the time. Enjoy.

     "Are we not all prone to be a little cocky and think we can handle things just fine?  But let some trouble come, and how quickly we sense our inadequacy. Trouble is one of God's great servants because it reminds us how much we continuously need the Lord. Otherwise, we tend to forget about entreating him. For some reason we want to carry on by ourselves.  The history of past revivals portray this truth in full color. Whether you study the First Great Awakening, the Welsh Revival, the 1906 outpouring on Azuza Street in Los Angeles, or any other period of revival, you always find men and women who first inwardly groan, longing to see the status quo changed -- in themselves and in their churches. They begin to call upon God with insistence. Prayer begets revival and revival begets more prayer.  It's like Psalm 80, where Asaph bemoans the sad state of his time, the broken walls, the rampaging animals, the burnt vineyards. Then in verse 18 he pleads, "Revive us, and we will call upon your name." 

     The Holy Spirit is the Spirit of prayer.  Only when we are full of the Spirit do we feel the need for God everywhere we turn. We can be driving a car, and spontaneously our spirit starts going up to God with needs and petitions and intercessions right there in the middle of traffic. [Eyes open of course!]  If our churches don't pray, and if people don't have an appetite for God, what does it matter how many are attending the services?  How would that impress God? Can you imagine the angels saying, "Oh, your pews! We can't believe how beautiful they are! Up here in heaven, we've been talking about them for years. Your sanctuary lighting -- it's so clever. The way you have the steps going up to the pulpit, it's wonderful..." 

     I don't think so.   If we don't want to experience God's closeness here on earth, why would we want to go to heaven anyway?  He is the center of everything there. If we don't enjoy being in his presence here and now, then heaven would not be heaven for us. Why would he send anyone there who doesn't long for him passionately here on earth?  I am not suggesting that we are justified by works of prayer or any other acts of devotion. I am not a legalist. But let us not dodge the issue of what heaven will be like --  enjoying the presence of God, taking time to adore him, listening to him, giving him praise. I have talked with pastor after pastor, some of them prominent and "successful" who have told me privately, "Jim, the truth is, I couldn't have a real prayer meeting in my church. I'd be embarrassed at the smallness of the crowd. Unless somebody's teaching, or singing, or doing some kind of presentation, people just won't come. I can only get them for a one-hour service, and that only once a week." 

     Is that kind of religion found anywhere in the Bible?  [Gathering to go to] Jesus himself can't draw a crowd even among his own people!  What a tragedy that the quality of ministry is too often measured by numbers and building size rather than by spiritual results. As a preacher myself, let me be blunt here. When I stand at the Judgment Seat of Christ, he is not going to ask me if I was a clever orator. He is not going to ask me how many books I wrote. He is only going to ask whether I continued in the line of men and women, starting way back in the time of Adam's generation, who led others to call upon God." 

     Cymbala is right.  God is not impressed by numbers, attendance figures, technology, marketing skills, architecture, stage presentation, etc.   Rather, what God wants is people who want him.  He wants people who want to spend prayerful time with Him in His presence.  He seeks people who yearn to seek Him (Jeremiah 29:13). He wants us to trust in Him and live a life of dependence on Him (II Corinthians 1:9). He wants us to realize what Jesus said so clearly in John 15:5 in the context of bearing spiritual fruit -- "I am the Vine and you are the branches. If a man remains in Me and I in him, he will bear much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing."   That's what the Christian life is about:  Remaining in Jesus all the time. Abiding in Christ every conscious moment.  Being joined to Him unbroken fellowship.  Dwelling in intimate fellowship in His presence.  Bringing every thought captive to Christ (II Corinthians 10:5).  Communing with Him in ongoing prayer (I Thessalonians 5:16-18). Trusting Him with all our hearts (Proverbs 3:5-6). Living a life of reliance, surrender and dependence (II Corinthians 1:8-10).  If people are not led to call upon God, and seek His face in loving fellowship, earnestly seeking to do His will, all that other stuff matters little.  For "success" in the eyes of the world is much different than success (fruit that God desires) in regard to Christ's Kingdom.

May We Be Moved to Pray and Pursue Him More Passionately, 

Pastor Jeff

The Day Jesus Got Mad

Greetings All,      

     This week's 'thought' comes to you from a best-selling book back in 1997, "Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire," by Jim Cymbala, pastor of the Brooklyn Tabernacle.  It is somewhat prophetic in nature, calling the Church to return to its first love for Jesus and the things which He and the early Church considered of primary importance. His book is an easy read, both encouraging and challenging at the same time -- and a good reminder of our need to return to the essentials of true Christian experience.
     This selection comes from the chapter entitled, "The Day Jesus Got Mad" (based on the passage about Jesus casting out the money-changers from the Temple).  His words are well worth heeding. Enjoy.

     "The atmosphere of my Father's house,' Jesus seemed to say, 'is to be prayer. The aroma around my Father must be that of people opening their hearts in worship and supplication. This is not just a place to make a buck. This is a house for calling on the Lord.'

      I do not mean to imply that the Jerusalem temple, built by Herod the Great, is the direct counterpart of our church buildings today. God no longer centers his presence in one particular building. In fact, the New Testament teaches that we are now his dwelling place; he lives in his people. How much more important, then, is Jesus' message about the primacy of prayer?
     The feature that is supposed to distinguish Christian churches, Christian people, and Christian gatherings, is the aroma of prayer. It doesn't matter what your tradition or my tradition is. The house is not ours anyway; it is the Father's. Does the Bible ever say anywhere from Genesis to Revelation, 'My house shall be called a house of preaching?' Does it ever say, 'My house shall be called a house of music?'  Of course not.  The Bible says, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations.' Preaching, music, the reading of the Word -- these things are fine. I believe in the practice of all of them. But they must never override prayer as the defining mark of God's dwelling. The honest truth is that I have seen God do more in people's lives during ten minutes of real prayer than in ten of my sermons.
     Have you ever noticed that Jesus launched the Christian church, not while someone was preaching, but while people were praying?  

      In the first two chapters of Acts, the disciples were doing nothing but waiting on God. As they were just sitting there -- worshiping, communing with God, letting God shape them and cleanse their spirits and do those heart operations that only the Holy Spirit can do -- the church was born. The Holy Spirit was poured out. What does it say, then, about our churches today that God birthed the church in a prayer meeting, and prayer meetings today are almost extinct? 
     Am I the only one who gets embarrassed when religious leaders in America talk about having prayer in public schools? We don't even have that much prayer in many churches! Out of humility, you would think we would keep quiet on that particular subject until we practice what we preach in our own congregations. I am sure that the Roman emperors didn't have prayer to God in their schools.  But then, the early Christians didn't seem to care what Caligula or Claudius or Nero did. How could any emperor stop God? How, in fact, could the demons of hell make headway when God's people prayed and called upon his name? Impossible!  
     In the New Testament we don't see Peter or Paul or John wringing their hands and saying: 'Oh, what are we going to do? Caligula is bisexual... he wants to appoint his horse to the Roman Senate... what a terrible model of leadership! How are we going to respond to this outrage?'
     Let's not play games with ourselves. Let's not divert attention away from the weak prayer life of our own churches. In Acts 4, when the apostles were unjustly arrested, imprisoned, and threatened, they didn't call for a protest or reach for some political leverage. Instead, they headed to a prayer meeting. And soon the place was vibrating with the power of the Holy Spirit (Acts 4:23-31). The apostles had this instinct: When in trouble, pray. When intimidated, pray. When challenged, pray. When persecuted pray."

     I know prayer has been the focus of many recent 'thoughts,' but I can't get around it.  When I've picked up a book to study, or opened a book to read casually, that seems to be the topic addressed -- prayer. The need for God's people to pray.  The need for the church to advance, and be renewed, and find new life and power -- through prayer -- and that call is echoed in many sources, both new and old. 
     Prayer is the key of heaven," said the wise Puritan Thomas Watson, "the Spirit helps us turn this key."  Or again, as St. Augustine noted: "He that loveth little prayeth little, and he who loveth much prayeth much."   John Bunyan, author of Pilgrim's Progress, was a bit more blunt.  He said, "If you are not a praying person you are not a Christian." 
     Therefore I admonish you: Pray, my friends, and then pray some more! Pray with earnest and unceasing ardor, until that which we should desire most comes to pass -- for God to move upon us, and in us, until through us His will be done on earth as it is in heaven. 

     May we pray for what Isaiah prayed for (and with as much zeal): "Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down, and the mountains would tremble before you! As when fire sets twigs ablaze and causes water to boil, come down and make your name known to your enemies, and cause the nations to quake before you" (Is. 64:1-2).

If ever we needed to "pray the prayers of Scripture," that's one we need to pray.  In Him, Pastor Jeff

The Seed Fell and Died

Greetings All,

 

        It's been a while since I sent one of these thoughts out. (Hope you missed them!)  We had a long anticipated day of outreach to our community this past Saturday called "Ridge Fest" (which went very well, thanks to the help of many!) and it consumed much of my time, thus making it hard to find the time to send out a weekly thought. 

 

        So, as I get back to it today I'm simply going to send you a story.  A true story.  An amazing story which I hope will touch you as it did me when I read it this past Sunday morning as the sun was rising.  It comes from Jim Cymbala's book, "Fresh Power."  For those who love stories that touch and inspire the heart its hard to find one better than this. For it reminds us that even the littlest things we do, and the hardships we endure, and the sacrifices we make -- even our failures -- can, when taken into the hands of our Sovereign God, who breathes His grace upon them, bear fruit in amazing ways. Fruit that we ourselves may never know about until eternity. Enjoy!

 

   "Back in 1921, a missionary couple named David and Svea Flood went with their two year old son from Sweden to the heart of Africa -- to what was then called the Belgian Congo. They met up with another young Scandinavian couple, the Ericksons, and the four sought God for direction.  In those days of much tenderness and devotion and sacrifice, they felt led of the Lord to set out from the main mission station and take the gospel to a remote area. This was a huge step of faith.  

 

     At the village of N'dolera they were rebuffed by the chief, who would not let them enter his town for fear of alienating the gods.  The two couples opted to go a half a mile up the slope and build their own mud huts.  They prayed for a spiritual breakthrough, but there was none.  The only contact with the villagers was a young boy, who was allowed to sell them chickens and eggs twice a week. S vea Flood -- a tiny woman only four feet, eight inches tall -- decided that if this was the only African she could talk to, she would try to lead the boy to Jesus.  And in fact, she succeeded. But there were no other encouragements. 

 

    Meanwhile, malaria continued to strike one member of the family after another.  In time the Ericksons decided they had had enough suffering and left to return to the central mission station. David and Svea Flood remained near N'dolera to go on alone. Then, of all things, Svea found herself pregnant in the middle of the primitive wilderness.  When the time came for her to give birth, the village chief softened enough to allow a midwife to help her.  A little girl was born, whom they named Aina.

 

    The delivery, however, was exhausting, and Svea Flood was already weak from bouts of malaria.  The birth process was a heavy toll to her stamina.  She lasted only another seventeen days.  Inside David Flood something snapped in that moment. He dug a crude grave, buried his twenty-seven-year-old wife, and then took his children back down the mountain to the mission station. Giving his newborn daughter to the Ericksons, he snarled, "I'm going back to Sweden. I've lost my wife, and I obviously can't take care of this baby. God has ruined my life." With that, he headed for the port, rejecting not only his calling, but God himself. 

 

    Within eight months both the Ericksons were stricken with a mysterious malady and died within days of each other.  The baby was then turned over to some American missionaries who adjusted her Swedish name to 'Aggie" and eventually brought her back to the United States at age three. This family loved the little girl and were afraid that if they tried to return to Africa, some legal obstacle might separate her from them. So they decided to stay in their home country and switch from missionary work to pastoral ministry.  And that is how Aggie grew up in South Dakota. 

 

     As a young woman, she attended North Central Bible College in Minneapolis where she met and married a young man named Dewey Hurst. Years passed. The Hursts enjoyed a fruitful ministry, and Aggie gave birth to a daughter, then a son an in time her husband became president of a Christian college in the Seatle area.  Aggie was intrigued to find so much Scandinavian heritage there. 

 

      One day a Swedish religious magazine appeared in her mailbox.  She had no idea who had sent it, and of course she couldn't read the words.  But as she turned the pages, all of a sudden a photo stopped her cold.  There in a primitive setting was a grave with a white cross -- and on the cross were the words SVEA FLOOD.  Aggie jumped in her car and went straight for a college faculty member who, she knew, could translate the article.  'What does it say?' she demanded.  The instructor summarized the story:  It was about missionaries who had come to N'dolera long ago...the birth of a white baby...the death of the young mother...the one little African boy who had been led to Christ...and how, after the whites had all left, the boy had grown up and finally persuaded the chief to let him build a school in the village. The article said that gradually he won all his students to Christ...the children led their parents to Christ...even the chief had become a Christian.  Today there were six hundred Christian believers in thet one village... All because of the sacrifice of David and Svea Flood.

 

     For the Hursts twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, the college Dewey now presided over presented them with the gift of a vacation to Sweden.  There Aggie sought to find her real father. An old man now, David Flood had remarried, fathered four more children, and generally dissipated his life with alcohol.  He had recently suffered a stroke.  Still bitter, he had one rule in his family: 'Never mention the name of God -- because God took everything from me.' 

 

     After an emotional reunion with her half brothers and half sister, Aggie, brought up the subject of seeing her father.  The others hesitated. 'You can talk to him,' they replied, 'even though he's very ill now. But you need to know that whenever he hears the name of God, he flies into a rage.'  Aggie was not to be deterred.  She walked into the squalid apartment, with liquor bottles everywhere, and approached the seventy-three-year-old man lying in a rumpled bed. 'Papa?' she said tentatively. He turned and began to cry. 'Aina,' he said.  'I never meant to give you away.'  'It's all right, Papa,' she replied, taking him gently in her arms.  'God took care of me.' 

 

     The man stiffened.  The tears stopped.  'God forgot all of us. Our lives have been like this because of him.'  He turned his face back to the wall. Aggie stroked his face and then continued, undaunted.  'Papa, I've got a little story to tell you, and its a true one. You didn't go to Africa in vain.  Mama didn't die in vain.  The little boy you won to the Lord grew up to win that whole village to Jesus Christ. The one seed you planted just kept growing and growing.  Today there are six hundred people serving the Lord because you were faithful to the call of God in your life... Papa, Jesus loves you. He has never hated you.'  

 

      The old man turned back to look into his daughter's eyes. His body relaxed. He began to talk.  And by the end of the afternoon, he had come back to the God he had resented for so many decades.  Over the next few days, father and daughter enjoyed warm moments together.  Aggie and her husband soon had to return to America -- and within a few weeks, David Flood had gone into eternity. 

     

      A few years later, the Hursts were attending a high-level evangelism conference in London, England, when a report was given from the nation of Zaire (the former Belgian Congo). The superintendent of the national church, representing some 110,000 baptized believers, spoke eloquently of the gospel's spread in his nation.  Aggie could not help going to ask him afterward if he had ever heard of David and Svea Flood.  

 

      'Yes, madam,' the man replied in French, his words then being translated into English.  'It was Svea Flood who led me to Jesus Christ. I was the boy who brought food to your parents before you were born. In fact, to this day your mother's grave and her memory are honored by all of us.' He embraced her in a long, sobbing hug.  Then he continued, 'You must come to Africa to see, because your mother is the most famous person in our history.'  

 

        In time that is exactly what Aggie Hurst and her husband did.  They were welcomed by cheering throngs of villagers.  She even met the man who had been hired by her father many years before to carry her back down the mountain in a hammock-cradle. But the most dramatic moment, of course, was when the pastor escorted Aggie to see her mother's white cross for herself.  She knelt in the soil to pray and give thanks.  Later that day, in the church, the pastor read from John 12:24: 'I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed.  But if it dies, it produces many seeds.'  He then followed with Psalm 126:5: 'Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.' "  

 

    

           What can one say except that God is amazing!  He's the artful weaver who can make a beautiful tapestry even out of broken threads.  We may never know whose lives we have touched, or what seeds we've sown that God has used to bring forth fruit in the lives of others. Our job is to sow, His job is to bring forth the fruit -- for only He can.  And we must be continue to sow whether we ever see the fruit of our labors in this life or not.

 

           To Him alone be the glory, Pastor Jeff