Bob's World

Moving my Blog

2007-07-12T12:57:00.000-07:00

I migrated to Wordpress.com today. I found some of its features very appealing so from now on when trying to access my blog and sermon archive please dial in my new blog .

Check Out a Great Blog Post

2007-06-19T08:51:00.001-07:00

Jeff Gauss is a Pastor in Cushing, MN. Read his excellent post, Risk and Reward. A link to his blog is found at the bottom of this post.

My father was a financial advisor for 20 years. He taught me a lot about money management – credit, debt, saving, and investing. Everything I’ve learned about financial responsibility, I learned from him. I remember sitting down with him about 10 years ago when Heidi and I were ready to make our first investment. As we were trying to decide where to put our money, he told us this fundamental truth of investing: “Never invest anything you aren’t willing to lose.” This caution is the application of the principle of “risk and reward” which is simply this: the greater the risk, the greater potential for reward; the lesser the risk, the lesser opportunity for reward. In other words, you can put your money in a bank savings account and it is virtually guaranteed to be safe, but you will only earn 3% on your investment. Conversely, you could invest your money in the stock market where you could earn 10, 20, 50, 100% or more on your money… or you could lose it all and have nothing. If you play it safe, you are guaranteed a little return. If you play it risky, you aren’t guaranteed anything. You might lose everything, or you might strike it rich. With great risk comes great (potential) reward.

I have come to realize over the years that there are basically two kinds of Christians: those who like to play it safe and those who like to live on the edge. Those who play it safe tend to be comfortable, secure and satisfied. They risk little, and so, consequently, their reward is little. In terms of spiritual maturity, their growth amounts to a mere 3%. On the other hand, the risk-taking Christians lay it all down on the line. They throw everything into following Jesus. They go when God says, “Go!” They give when God says, “Give.” They risk comfort, security, and personal satisfaction for the reward of a life lived in obedience to the Master. Their risk is great, but the promise of reward is greater. Often times they lose everything (money, jobs, family, friends, even their own life), but they consider it all gain for the privilege of serving Christ and the promise of future reward (Philippians 1:21 & 29).

Truly, my dad’s precaution about investing was first spoken by Jesus: “You cannot be my disciple unless you pick up your cross and follow me. But don’t begin until you count the cost” (Luke 14:27-28a). In other words, Jesus says, “Don’t invest your life unless you’re willing to lose it.”

Many times I am still tempted to play it safe – to take the comfortable and secure path of religion. But as I seek to follow Jesus, I’ve come to realize that a relationship with him is anything but safe. With great risk comes great reward. I’ve gotten a taste of God’s reward and I’ve determined that I can no longer settle for a mere 3% return on my investment. I’m throwing it all in for Jesus and expecting a great return.

What kind of investor are you?

Rurality Bytes

Transformational Leadership

2007-06-12T12:23:00.001-07:00

A very timely reminder for those of us contemplating the meaning of "transformation".

Sub-biblical Transformation | Christianity Today | A Magazine of Evangelical Conviction

Sermon Updates

2007-06-12T09:30:00.000-07:00

I uploaded my last few sermons today. We finished the series on the list of qualities we are admonished by St. Peter to cultivate (2 Peter 1:5-11) with talks on Brotherly Love and Love, the capstone of Christian virtues.

My most recent talk at Temple is on embracing the redemptive mission of God. In preparing this talk I benefited from a sermon on this subject I recently read by John Ortberg, Pastor of Menlo Park Presbyterian Church and former Teaching Pastor at Willow Creek. John is an accomplished speaker and writer.

Maintenance or Mission?

2007-06-09T11:47:00.001-07:00

Check out the following blog I stumbled on during sermon prep today. We're praying and hoping and working to move from a maintenance to a missional mode here at Temple Baptist Church. I found this inspiring and helpful.

1. In measuring the effectiveness, the maintenance congregation asks, "How many pastoral visits are being made? The mission congregation asks, "How many disciples are being made?"

2. When contemplating some form of change, the maintenance congregation says, "If this proves upsetting to any of our members, we won't do it." The mission congregation says, "If this will help us reach someone on the outside, we will take the risk and do it."

3. When thinking about change, the majority of members in a maintenance congregation ask, "How will this affect me?" The majority of members in the mission congregation ask, "Will this increase our ability to reach those outside?"

4. When thinking of its vision for ministry, the maintenance congregation says, "We have to be faithful to our past." The mission congregation says, "We have to be faithful to our future."

5. The pastor in the maintenance congregation says to the newcomer, "I'd like to introduce you to some of our members." In the mission congregation the members say, "We'd like to introduce you to our pastor." [this is because the members are bringing folks, not the pastor...Bob]

6. When confronted with a legitimate pastoral concern, the pastor in the maintenance congregation asks, "How can I meet this need?" The pastor in the mission congregation asks, "How can this need be met?"

7. The maintenance congregation seeks to avoid conflict at any cost (but rarely succeeds). The mission congregation understands that conflict is the price of progress, and is willing to pay the price. It understands that it cannot take everyone with it. This causes some grief, but it does not keep it from doing what needs to be done.

8. The leadership style in the maintenance congregation is primarily managerial, where leaders try to keep everything in order and running smoothly. The leadership style in a mission congregation is primarily transformational, casting a vision of what can be, and marching off the map in order to bring the vision into reality.

9. The maintenance congregation is concerned with their congregation, its organizations and structure, its constitutions and committees. The mission congregation is concerned with the culture, with understanding how secular people think and what makes them tick. It tries to determine their needs and their points of accessibility to the Gospel.

10. When thinking about growth, the maintenance congregations asks, "How many Baptists live within a twenty-minute drive of this church?" The mission congregation asks, "How many unchurched people live within a twenty-minute drive of this church?"

11. The maintenance congregation looks at the community and asks, "How can we get these people to support our congregation?" The mission congregation asks, "How can the Church support these people?"

12. The maintenance congregation thinks about how to save their congregation. The mission congregation thinks about how to reach the world.

originally posted by William H. Willimon @ 10/23/2006

Godliness

2007-05-24T11:09:00.000-07:00

I forgot my little digital recorder and cannot upload last Sunday's sermon. We're continuing the series of sermons based on the virtues commended in 2 Peter 1:5ff. as leading to productive and effective lives. Last Sunday the theme was godliness. Literally translated "good worship", it indicates (ala Elwell, EDT) "reverence for God and a life of holiness in the world."

The only worship that matters is the kind that produces a life that in growing measure reflects the character of God.

Patience

2007-05-24T10:45:00.000-07:00

Our series from 2 Peter continued on May 13 with a study on patience. You can listen to these sermons if you like by scrolling down to the sermon player on the left side of this page.

I was reminded that the Christian virtue of patience implies suffering and is more than a stoical acceptance of some painful reality. It is a kind of suffering in hope, i.e., while trusting in God and relying on His promise to be with us and to bring us to a desired end.

The following poem by Martha Snell Nicholson (read by Elizabeth Eliot as a part of her address at the funeral of Missionary Veronica Bowers and her infant son Cory, mistakenly killed by the Peruvian Military in 2001) captures this idea:

I stood a mendicant of God before His royal throne

And begged him for one priceless gift, which I could call my own.

I took the gift from out His hand, but as I would depart

I cried, "But Lord this is a thorn and it has pierced my heart.

This is a strange, a hurtful gift, which Thou hast given me."

He said, "My child, I give good gifts and gave My best to thee."

I took it home and though at first the cruel thorn hurt sore,

As long years passed I learned at last to love it more and more.

I learned He never gives a thorn without this added grace,

He takes the thorn to pin aside the veil which hides His face.

Self Control

2007-05-11T09:10:00.000-07:00

I've been preaching on the character qualities we are admonished to cultivate in 2 Peter 1:5ff. One of them is self control. This is a phrase that brings me back to my childhood school days. Remember the dreaded Parent/Teacher Conference nights? "Your son has a great deal of potential as a student. He only lacks self control." I'm afraid the battle still rages on.

I have learned a few things. That there are no magic formulas. No quick solutions. No mere adjustments in terminology, no repetition of affirmations describing the self from God's point of view. No once and forever consecration or eradication of the "old man". Peter's admonition to control the self refutes perfectionism. If the self were perfected it wouldn't need to be controlled.

The very idea of self control assumes that the self is divided, complicated. It continues to present us with a serious challenge by producing tendencies to do wrong. The challenge is to "deny ourselves" and "take up our cross daily," as Jesus says, and follow him (Luke 9:23).

Sermon Player 2

2007-04-19T07:15:00.000-07:00

I just noticed that the sermon player does allow downloads. When you select a sermon the details tab opens. There is a little mp3 icon just below the volume adjuster. This little button facilitates the sermon download.

Sermon Player

2007-04-18T08:30:00.000-07:00

Please notice the sermon player on the right of the page. This device will allow you to listen to sermons online. I only have 2 sermons in a digital format at this time but I intend (God willing) to digitally record future sermons. That will allow me to continue to regularly post sermons on this blog. I'm also going to try to post the mp3 links that should allow you to download the messages if you're interested.

Leaving Home: Last Installment

2007-02-13T08:20:00.000-08:00

So here is the last installment of "Leaving Home" as promised.

Its 1981 and I'm sitting in the tiny bedroom of our basement apartment (1 bedroom - 3 young kids) in Brooklyn Park, MN with my Dad. We were taking a break while my family's belongings were being loaded into a grain truck by a few good men who had come to collect their new Pastor with his wife and kids and to see us safely to the parsonage belonging to our first church (Otho-Kalo Community Church) on the top of a picturesque hill above the Des Moines River in central Iowa.

Of course I needed the break more than my Dad. He was in way better shape. But he clearly wanted to talk. He had something important to say. So we found a quiet spot and he earnestly told me a story about the first time he left home and how he tried to find his way back.

He was 3 years old and living in a shack somewhere in rural Oklahoma (he was born in 1906 in Tuttle OK) with his Mom and Dad and 2 older brothers. It seems his Dad was a drunk and a gambler who neglected (at the least) his young family until one day his grandmother (an Irish woman named Garrett sp.?) could abide it no longer.

[I'm picturing the next part of the story in John Ford western mode]

So this old lady with a bonnet and long skirts comes riding up in a horse-drawn buckboard wagon in a cloud of dust one evening, pulls hard on the reins and comes to stop outside the shack, sets the brake, climbs down from the wagon and shouts to her daughter "Goldie! You grab what you can in a hurry, climb up in this wagon and we'll see the back of this place afore that no good scalawag of a husband of yours gets back. I'll help with the boys." And so with her cape flared out in the wind she swoops down like an angry hawk to where 3 year old Harvey sits at play and suddenly gathers him up and plops him down into the wagon with his mother and brothers and their few belongings and drives off into the sunset to God knows where and this little boy will not see his father again for over 30 years.

Now I can see the pain in my old man's face as his mind searches out the rest of this story and he conveys it to me with tears in his eyes as I'm about to load my family in our buckboard wagon (58 Chevy or 73 Buick or whatever) after 8 years of college, seminary and post grad study (I was 35).

I come from a family of story tellers and listeners (we all like to gab into the wee hours if we can find anyone to listen) but this was a story that I'd never heard until that day.

So now my Dad is in his thirtysomethings with three young daughters. He's a good 1200 miles away from that old shack and three full decades have gone by. His mom had remarried, he had been raised by a step-dad, the family had eventually made their way to Minneapolis where he met and fell in love with my mother at Washington Elementary School and they had married as teen-agers (at least Mom was) and had begun to raise their own family. And yet the longing to know his father had not gone away.

A lifetime of work and struggle had come and gone and my Dad was now in a position to take a long-awaited trip to Texas to meet his father. I believe they had had little if any contact for all those years. So he leaves Minneapolis with his wife (my Mom) and heads for Texas.

Somewhere out in rural Texas they come to a mailbox on a dirt road at the end of a long driveway up to a farm house and there's the name (Evans). "This must be it" he says to Mom and his heart is pounding as they slowly turn down that lane, pull up in the yard and make their way to the screen door where they're met by my grandpa's second wife and family and warmly invited in for coffee and some delicate conversation. "Your Pa's out plowing the back 40. Go on out there, I'm sure he'd be please to see you." So, while Mom stays and visits in the kitchen with these kind women my Dad goes out to find the back forty.

When he comes up on the field he sees the old man with the plow behind a team of mules some distance across the field. He climbs over the fence and walks through the soft, newly turned loam to his father who stands by the plow and waits for his approach. When my Dad introduces himself his father interrupts him and says

[at this point in the narrative I want my readers to know that everything you've read so far has come from my recollection of that day and certainly I may have embellished a few things or gotten a few things wrong. My sisters will correct, I have no doubt, some of the details, even the grammar of this blog as well they should. But this next bit is verbatim. These are the very words that have stayed with me all these years and my memory is sealed by the recollection of the deep emotion that my Dad displayed at this point in the story. He struggled...stopped and started...shook the tears from his eyes and cleared his throat as he recalled to me his father's words...]

"As soon as I saw you come over the fence I knew you were one of the boys."

This is where my father's story came to an end. It was time to go back to work loading the truck, but when he came to the end of his story he looked pleadingly at me through tears as if to ask without words "Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Of course I thought I did. It seemed to me then and now that what he was saying to me was simply that there is an indestructible bond between us and that wherever I traveled he would never forget me and whenever I came home again he would recognize me as one of his boys.

Of course the spiritual analogies here are rich for me. God is like my grandpa in a way. When we who are His children have wandered far and long from His fields and care and if we should return to Him He'll say to us (no matter what has intervened) that as soon as we stepped over the fence He recognized us a one of His own.

But God is very much unlike my grandpa also. He doesn't stand and wait for us to cross the fence. He's really more like my Dad. The longing runs deeper in Him than in us. He takes the initiative and pursues us. He leaves His home (Phil. 2; Luke 15:4 ff.) to find us and when He does He carries us (all the way!) to our real home and we'll never leave home again!

Authority and Submission

2007-02-08T09:21:00.000-08:00

I got pulled over by the local constabulary the other day. As providence would have it (I almost said luckily) I was actually late for a funeral. "You're conducting the funeral?" asked the officer. "Yes I am." He shook his head and said something like "at this kind of speed (over 60 in a 30 zone I'm ashamed to admit) you're lucky its not your funeral". He actually let me off with a warning and let me know that this was an unheard of mercy. "I don't give breaks on speeding like this". When you pray at the funeral, say a prayer of thanks". (I didn't wait to get there)

I was, of course, very submissive to this officer. I saw the lights flashing, noticed his badge and uniform and dutifully pulled over, produced my license when asked, etc. It made me think a bit about issues of authority and submission.

Last night at a weekly Bible study in which we have been studying the Gospel of Matthew we came (providentially) upon an interesting exchange in Mt. 21:23ff. in which the question of the authority of Jesus is raised by the chief priests and elders. These guys were having a hard time with submission. This account follows the triumphal entry, the cleansing of the temple and the healing of a number of “lame and blind” after which Jesus accepts the praise of children (vv. 14-16). (The lights were flashing big time!)

Because these civic and spiritual leaders are unwilling to submit to Jesus’ authority, i.e., to acknowledge both its divine source and character, they are self-excluded from open and truthful dialogue with the Rabbi who is the truth.

Contrast the conspiratorial huddle and political considerations of these sad men with the joy of the children in the temple and of the people confessing Jesus as the Christ as He entered the city.

Those who joyfully submitted to the authority of Christ had no power of their own to protect and rejoiced to see the signs of the kingdom breaking out. The priests and elders wanted to retain their power and the advance of the kingdom was seen as a threat. They were not impressed with the healing performed by Jesus or by the cleansing of the temple, both of which are self evidently awesome.

They chose to retain their own power and as a result lost their opportunity to experience the redemptive power of the gospel which only comes to those who submit to the one whose children call Him Lord. No wonder Jesus was soon to cry out

"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not! See, your house is left to you desolate. For I tell you, you will not see me again, until you say, 'Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.'"
(Matthew 23:37-39)

I'm Back

2007-02-08T09:16:00.000-08:00

A few of you have encouraged me to continue to blog so I'm back at it. I was sick for over 2 months with a respiratory infection of some kind. It really knocked me down for a while but I'm completely recovered so I'll be blogging away again. Lets keep in touch!

Leaving Home - 2

2006-11-15T12:15:00.000-08:00

This is a story about a reconciliation - not a leave taking. It happened 10 years after the last story. After a lot of road trips (and of other kinds). In the mean time God was doing a work of grace in both my Dad and in me. Both of us needed a lot of grace in those years. Dad's relationship with God was deepening in that period and, for me, well....it was as if I had suddenly become aware that God was really there. But that's another story.

A Cold Winter's Night

I was living alone in a little cabin on a farm east of Sebeka, MN in the early winter of 1974 and my father came for a visit. We hadn't spent time together alone for 15 years. I was 27 and he was 67.

There was only one twin bed so I rolled out of my sleeping bag on the floor next to him and we talked and laughed and even prayed together into the wee hours. I had only a little wood stove to heat that poorly insulated shack and only some kiln-dried rafter remnants from the saw mill where I worked to stuff it with. So I crawled out of the sack every couple of hours and stoked the fire to keep from freezing to death.

That night the temperature dropped well below zero. But it was a good night. That old stove hissed, crackled and roared through the night. We soaked in the warmth of the fire and our hearts were made warm by knowing and loving each other again - father and son. We laid there with only the sound of the fire and the howling winter wind, eyes wide open and smiles on our faces. In that cold dark January night we met together like the prodigal son and his running father and God was there and He smiled too.

In the morning - I had to get to work and dad had to get back to the Cities. We stopped at a gas station along the highway and said good bye. When he drove away to the south I actually wept. My heart, which had been hard toward him for all those years had melted and I was sad to see him go.

I guess I had to come home again for leaving home to matter.

More to follow...

Leaving Home

2006-11-02T07:21:00.000-08:00

Then Peter said in reply, "See, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?" Jesus said to them, "Truly, I say to you, in the new world, when the Son of Man will sit on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands, for my name's sake, will receive a hundredfold and will inherit eternal life.
(Matthew 19:27-29)

My daughter was married on October 14th and on the 28th our granddaughter (who had lived with us for several years) was reunited with her mom in her new family. So I'm thinking about leaving home. We all leave home don't we? Some of us early, some of us late, some of us gladly, some sadly, some because we have to, some because we want to, some in hope, some with fear, some in anger, some in tender love, some for self, some for Jesus, but we all leave home.

I left home many times in my own "broken road" (this, I believe, was the title of the song that proceeded the bridal procession at my daughter's wedding) to adulthood, and for many reasons. Here are a few selected tales of my many leave-takings. This is too long for a blog post. I'll have to break this one up. We'll do this on the installment plan. Just three of these I think will do in all.

Road Trip 1965

I found a 1953 Ford for sale in Edina. My first car. $50! Within a few days a plan was hatched with Dogga. I dropped out of the U (2nd false start after graduating high school in '64) and we headed out of town. We drove East out of the cities (I think 94 was already built) in a blizzard. My always perceptive mom had said, "You idiot!, you can't leave in a snowstorm!" but there was no turning back. Before we got 10 miles out of town I did a 360 on the icy road. It gave me momentary pause, but we turned up the radio and soldiered on. Speaking of soldiering, Don "Dogga" aka Mad Dog Cook, my traveling partner, later went on to do two tours in Viet Nam as a Marine Sergeant and now is winding down (I believe) a long partnership with his brothers in a multinational sports clothing empire. (I can get his stuff locally at Mills Fleet Farm)

Where were we going?, you may wonder. It mattered little to me. I had it in mind to stop in to visit my high school girlfriend who was a student in Bozeman, Montana at some point on the journey but it was all about the wild road, the freedom, some space to think in, to breathe deep, experience life...and so a rented room in an Atlanta boarding house, some work rebuilding Cook's brother's driveway...stopped by cops in Mississippi in the middle of the night, briefly mistaken for freedom riders (we listened to the news from the famous Selma, Alabama civil rights march on the radio in the car but we were "just passin' through") and I suppose we were lucky to make it out alive. We were freedom riders of a different sort, I suppose. Politically naive. But its hard to explain what you're up to in rural Mississippi in the middle of the night when all you want to do is keep ridin'.

So we kept ridin' through Texas (gas at 17.9 cents per gallon near Fort Worth) and on to LA where we stayed at Don's sister's place in the valley (Woodland Hills, if memory serves) where we were kindly given lots of LA tours etc. and my car caught fire on the Hollywood Freeway. There was a leak in the exhaust pipe that directed heat to the floor of the back seat which finally lit right up. I don't remember fixing it. We just put out the fire and kept going I believe.

And then through Montana and a brief stop in Bozeman where I got the news that my HS sweetheart had "moved on" and did not wish to see me. This changed the character of what remained of this rapidly deteriorating adventure. Cook had to take over logistics at this point. I was too bummed out to deal...and we rode on accross Dakota and into an even worse Minnesota blizzard where we actually had to temporarily abandon the Ford in a snowbank just north of St. Cloud and hoof it into town.

The story ends with a call to my Father who coughed up $50 via Western Union to see us back home. This call to my Father becomes a bit of a repetitive motif as this story of leavings continues...and the verses on the top of this post start to come into focus ( hopefully).

Its Genetic

2006-10-26T12:00:00.000-07:00

My sister recently was diagnosed with high cholesterol and asked for advice. She assumed some of her family would have had experience with this kind of malady since she was aware that our Dad had it (I was not aware of this which is another story...apparently there was much about my dear old Papa of which I was not aware) and that it was "genetic".

This set my mind to wandering across the decades and back again. I heard the voice of a nephew asking many years ago "What's with the men in this family?...We're either drunks or preachers". After 30 years I'm prepared to answer. We're both.

I guess there's something "genetic" going on. We got some stuff to deal with that's worse than high cholesterol. Its even worse than alcoholism. Drinking really isn't the problem. Something deeper's goin' on. There is within these Evans boys a powerful predisposition to be raving madmen. So when we fall down ( e.g., in a gutter in Mexico City) and eventually cry out to God and when He comes to rescue us we've just got to tell somebody. "You can get you some new genes". Can I get a witness from cyberspace? Somebody wave a hankee or sumthin'!

But we still got to fight high cholesterol et al (all that genetic stuff) til' we get home and Jesus finishes His work of grace in us.

Open Theism: A Philosophical Objection

2006-09-22T11:47:00.000-07:00

Open Theism was a hot topic in the church a few years ago, and I know its a little strange to revisit the issue at this late date...But, having briefly discussed the issue the other night with a couple of young Pastor friends, I thought I would write down my continuing objection to the position. Many of you (not that there are actually many of you readers) may not be aware of the debate. You'll have to look elsewhere for fuller treatments than can be offered here. In short, it is the rejection of the traditional view of God's foreknowledge as absolute, or exhaustive. Open theists believe that the future does not have the ontological status of existence (since it hasn't happened yet) and therefore does not present itself as available to be known. They believe in omniscience, but assert that divine omniscience comprehends only those things that are capable of being known, i.e., that exist as potential objects of knowledge.

Here is a short version of my continuing objection to "Open Theism".

Open theists believe that though God almost never overrules the exercise of free will He can and does (or has done) do so in a narrow field of instances, namely in those instances that carry the possibility of substantively disrupting the flow of redemptive history. There are certain outcomes that must be achieved (e.g., the cross) in order to insure that history arrives at its intended goal. The necessary choices to effect these outcomes are thought of as momentous.

My question is this. If there exists within the Divine cognition a mechanism that distinguishes between momentous and non-momentous choices, exactly how does it work? It seems to me that it can only work by extrapolating the consequences of every human choice into the future ad infinitum. And, if God has the capacity to extrapolate the consequences of every human choice into the indefinite future, then how does this differ from what has traditionally been called exhaustive foreknowledge?

Augustine on Aging

2006-09-21T14:48:00.000-07:00

I recently got an e-mailed response to this blog from an old friend. Jimmy and I went to the same church together as boys (Oliver Presbyterian in Minneapolis) and became close friends. His family was always kind and hospitable to me and we had a lot of fun together. We battled it out for the ping pong championship of the church youth group and I held on for a narrow win. One of the athletic highlights of my growing up years. Although we haven't seen each other for about 42 years (if memory serves) we've started to correspond in recent months via e-mail. Needless to say we've been down some roads in all these years and its been good to start to reconnect.

I was thinking he'd be astonished to see the effect of the years on my wizened brow after I sent him a link to this blog. It didn't seem to phase him. He returned the favor and attached a photo of himself in an e-mail. Well, it seems we look older than we did when we were 18.

Oh well, its the world that gets old. Its the "old man" that dies. In Christ we are renewed each day. Here is a quote from a recent post on Christianity Today about Augustine's view of the passing of time.

As Augustine aged, he increasingly thought of the world, its politics, culture, and institutions, as a tottering old man whose days were numbered: "You are surprised that the world is losing its grip? That the world is grown old? Don't hold onto the old man, the world; don't refuse to regain your youth in Christ, who says to you: 'The world is passing away; the world is losing its grip; the world is short of breath. Don't fear, your youth shall be renewed as an eagle.'"

Comforting Thoughts

2006-09-16T17:24:00.000-07:00

Here are a couple of quotes from the English Reformer Hugh Latimer, from his famous sermon on the Lord’s Prayer given in 1552.
On the general usefulness of this prayer:

For like as the law of love is the sum and abridgment of the other laws, so this prayer is the sum and abridgment of all other prayers: all the other prayers are contained in this prayer; yea, whatsoever mankind hath need of to soul and body, that same is contained in this prayer.

On the matchless privilege of addressing God as Father:

Therefore our Saviour, when he teacheth us to call God "Father,"teacheth us to understand the fatherly affection which God beareth towards us; which thing maketh us bold and hearty to call upon him, knowing that he beareth a good-will towards us, and that he will surely hear our prayers. When we be in trouble, we doubt of a stranger, whether he will help us or not: but our Saviour commanding us to call God, "Father,"teacheth us to be assured of the love and good-will of God toward us. So by this word "Father, we learn to stablish and to comfort our faith, knowing most assuredly that he will be good unto us.

Amen

A Prayer for The Community

2006-09-13T11:24:00.000-07:00

Remembering Our Need: A Stimulus to Prayer

2006-09-13T08:49:00.000-07:00

I just began a series of sermons on the Lord's Prayer. One of the issues I am grappling with again is the question of how to awaken and develop a sustained passion for prayer. This is both a pastoral and a personal concern. Here are a few preliminary thoughts. I welcome your comments. (You may have tried to leave a comment on an earlier post and been sent away for lack of registration. I think I now have it set so that anyone may leave a comment. Please do. You may also use the link provided to e-mail me.)

A precondition for prayer is a sense of need; i.e., there must be a desire for either personal or situational transformation. Its not hard to pray when the plane we're on is hijacked (cf. Lisa Beamer's, A Reason for Hope} or when the we lie beneath the rubble of the World Trade Center (cf. Oliver Stone's excellent film The World Trade Center. But we don't live in perpetual crisis.
The desired outcome must be conceived as something beyond one's own capacity to perform or effectuate.
Prayerlessness, therefore, arises from a shallow contentment with things as they are or a chronically low set of expectations regarding the need for personal (internal) or situational (external) transformation.
Herein lies the genius of utilizing the pattern of the Lord's prayer. In it we are reminded of our great and continuing need for sustenance, forgiveness and protection.

Jerusalem and Sept.11

2006-09-11T10:50:00.000-07:00

On Saturday eve., while doing a few errands in town, I caught a bit of the "Last Night of the Proms". The Proms (short for promenade) is a 110 year old tradition in Britain. It is a summer- long celebration of classical music that features many concerts accross the UK and it culminates with an evening concert at The Royal Albert Hall in London. They always do some patriotic sing-alongs and I happened to catch one that blew me away. I'm not really sure why. The crowd sang and cheered afterward. As I sat and listened in my car I pulled into a parking spot and felt tears streaming down my cheeks. Sometimes when I hear a great throng in full and lusty voice I find myself longing for my part in the heavenly choir when I will join my voice with all of the redeemed of the Lord to forever sing His mighty praises.

The song was Jerusalem, a poem by William Blake set to music in 1916 by Hubert Parry. Here is a link to a version of the hymn. It doesn't include the singing and cheering of the crowd and the accompaniment doesn't have the same feel as the BBC Symphony Orchestra provided as I listened to the live broadcast, but its the only audio file I could find. http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/rulebritannia.html#Jerusalem

Here is the text of the poem.

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the Holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the countenance divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark satanic mills.

Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O Clouds unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land!

Without taking time to go into all of the nuances of this poem, including its use of national legend, it is, it would seem, a passionate plea to a nation to resist the dehumanizing influence of the Industrial Revolution (the dark satanic mills) and to fight on with a view to the establishment of a truly Christian (probably meaning for Blake liberal, i.e. humane) society. Thus the popularity of the hymn at Labour Party and Women's Institute conferences.

But was Blake's romantic hope realistic? Is it right for us to suppose that there may be a way to establish a Christian society? Should we, like the mullahs of Islam, work toward the integration of the religious and civic spheres? I think not. Nor should we retreat from the public square and fail to attempt to bring our values to bear in the policy debates of our time. Check out this fine article by Timothy George for a thoughtful discussion of this question. http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2006/009/1.78.html

Following the lead of Augustine, in The City of God, his opus magnum et arduum, George rightly argues that we must be engaged in the world with a view to impacting our society for good and that we must at the same time put our hope only in God. As he puts it:

There are two major (and regrettably common) mistakes Augustine wants us to avoid. One is the lure of utopianism. This is the mistake of thinking that we can produce a human society that will solve our problems and bring about the kingdom of God on earth. This was the basic error of both Marxism and 19th-century liberalism.
The other error, equally disastrous, is cynicism. This creeps up on us as we see ever-present evil. We withdraw into our own self-contained circle of contentment, which can just as well be a pious holy huddle as a secular skeptics club.

Lets continue to be moved and inspired by the romantic idealism of Blake and to attempt great things for God. But as we do we must remember that we bear witness to the Light in Christ in the midst of a dark and fallen world.

The Lord's Prayer

2006-09-08T06:59:00.000-07:00

Some Good Books

2006-09-08T05:42:00.000-07:00

Here are a few books I read this summer and recommend.

* John Updike's new novel called "Terrorist" is a wonderful read. Its full of fascinating insight into Islam, Christianity and human nature. His critique of Christianity is both powerful and kind. The musings of a tired insomniac guidance counselor who reflects on his life as "an extended blunder" in the middle of the night made me laugh out loud. Updike knows the ennui of approaching age and the kind of continuing grief for lost opportunities and misdirected energies that characterizes middle aged American manhood.
* The Places in Between by Rory Stewart is another fascinating book. Stewart, a former British Soldier and diplomat walked across Afghanistan (from Herat to Kabul) about 2 weeks after the fall of the Taliban. Its a great adventure and is full of historical and cultural insight.
* Following Jesus, by N.T. Wright is a wonderful sermon series that stimulates fresh thinking on Christian discipleship. I used his approach as a launching pad for a "companion series" at Temple Baptist.
* Donald Carson, in his Becoming Conversant with the Emergent Church has provided a helpful and insightful analysis of postmodernism and its influence in the church.