CHURCH: Rediscovering a Place of Joy
The year was 1975, and my family was finishing a week-long visit with our very best friends on the Oregon Coast. Mike and Dan were my age, and with my brother we had many adventures on a pond, loaded with drift wood, located across the street from their house. We called it “The Frog Pond,” but it smelled a lot worse than dead frogs (rumors had it that someone hid bodies in that place, but we never saw them). I remember our instructions before we headed across the street, “Don’t get wet in the pond.” Since boys will be boys, we spent most of our time at the “pond” drying our clothes before coming home, as if our moms couldn’t smell the odor. Just remembering those moments brings a smile across my face.
On this particular visit, we were returning from our vacation on a Sunday afternoon. Mark, the two-year-old younger brother came down with a fever, and his parents decided to keep him home from church. I remember how Mark’s reaction reminded me of someone breaking the favorite toy. His heart broke and the tears welled up as he said, “I want to go to church.” The Tillamook Church of Christ boasted of 30 members on Sunday morning. They didn’t have a children’s program, and I’m not even sure who the preacher was. Regardless, little Mark wanted to be at church, and missing that Sunday night broke his heart.
His teary face burned a lasting image into my brain, and even now looking back, I’m led into wonder; only a child-like faith can be broken for missing church.
Most church-going Americans appear to have lost the joy in assembling with the saints. A poles-apart perception of church maybe at play with similar results. While some see church as work, others see it as duty. While some claim it’s boring, others believe it’s reverent. While some find the hour-long service almost too painful to endure, others have convinced themselves that that is what church is all
about. Both groups miss the mark, and Psalm 122:1 is an ideal never realized, “I rejoiced with those who said to me, ‘Let’s go to the house or the Lord.’” Just because I’ve chosen a profession which places me in the middle of church, doesn’t mean the joy comes any easier; sometimes it’s almost harder. However, recently, I’ve reflected on our assembly time and have rediscovered how church is a place of joy.
I’ve rediscovered church as a place of joy whenever a person, either comes to Jesus for the first time or comes to Jesus again for the first time. Even more joy is discovered when I’ve played some role in moving that person closer to Jesus.
I’ve rediscovered church as a place of joy whenever the assembly singing sounds like the singing we’ll experience in heaven. On those Sundays, we can almost see the pearly gates and hear the chorus of angels. Speaking of which, when I hear the voice of a child singing at the top of her lungs, goose bumps break out all over me.
I’ve rediscovered church as a place of joy whenever a member shakes my hand at the door and says, “Your sermon encouraged me,” or “Your sermon spoke to something in my life that I need to change.”
I’ve rediscovered church as a place of joy whenever a toddler pretends that I’m Darth Vader and chases me around the fellowship hall with his “light saber,” or I’m coloring pictures with elementary children while we talk about important stuff like their favorite book, movie, or food, or when a five-year-old rushes into my arms for a hug, only to hear him say, “Hey Preacher. You’re Fired!”
I’ve rediscovered church as a place of joy whenever we’re led in prayer, and the person praying almost sounds as if he knows God personally.
I’ve discovered church as a place of joy whenever my “adopted” granddaughter chooses to sit with Cile and me during the worship as she pulls my reading glasses out of my shirt pocket so she can wear them.
I’ve rediscovered church as a place of joy whenever the teenagers gravitate to my family, as if we’re the “in crowd,” or when older members share with me from their lives as if I’m as respectable as they are.
While I can’t say I’ve ever been as heartbroken for missing the assembly as little Mark was, I can say I’m looking for more joy nuggets in our assemblies. Those nuggets, sometimes more valuable than the worship time itself, tend to do more to fuel my passion for ministry and for the assembly. When that happens Psalm 122 can link arms with Nehemiah 8:10 and be just as true, “The joy of the Lord is my strength.”
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)
CHURCH: Rediscovering A Place of Joy
The year was 1975, and my family was finishing a week-long visit with our very best friends on the Oregon Coast. Mike and Dan were my age, and with my brother we had many adventures on a pond, loaded with drift wood, located across the street from their house. We called it “The Frog Pond,” but it smelled a lot worse than dead frogs (rumors had it that someone hid bodies in that place, but we never saw them). I remember our instructions before we headed across the street, “Don’t get wet in the pond.” Since boys will be boys, we spent most of our time at the “pond” drying our clothes before coming home, as if our moms couldn’t smell the odor. Just remembering those moments brings a smile across my face.
On this particular visit, we were returning from our vacation on a Sunday afternoon. Mark, the two-year-old younger brother came down with a fever, and his parents decided to keep him home from church. I remember how Mark’s reaction reminded me of someone breaking the favorite toy. His heart broke and the tears welled up as he said, “I want to go to church.” The Tillamook Church of Christ boasted of 30 members on Sunday morning. They didn’t have a children’s program, and I’m not even sure who the preacher was. Regardless, little Mark wanted to be at church, and missing that Sunday night broke his heart.
His teary face burned a lasting image into my brain, and even now looking back, I’m led into wonder; only a child-like faith can be broken for missing church.
Most church-going Americans appear to have lost the joy in assembling with the saints. A poles-apart perception of church maybe at play with similar results. While some see church as work, others see it as duty. While some claim it’s boring, others believe it’s reverent. While some find the hour-long service almost too painful to endure, others have convinced themselves that that is what church is all
about. Both groups miss the mark, and Psalm 122:1 is an ideal never realized, “I rejoiced with those who said to me, ‘Let’s go to the house or the Lord.’” Just because I’ve chosen a profession which places me in the middle of church, doesn’t mean the joy comes any easier; sometimes it’s almost harder. However, recently, I’ve reflected on our assembly time and have rediscovered how church is a place of joy.
I’ve rediscovered church as a place of joy whenever a person, either comes to Jesus for the first time or comes to Jesus again for the first time. Even more joy is discovered when I’ve played some role in moving that person closer to Jesus.
I’ve rediscovered church as a place of joy whenever the assembly singing sounds like the singing we’ll experience in heaven. On those Sundays, we can almost see the pearly gates and hear the chorus of angels. Speaking of which, when I hear the voice of a child singing at the top of her lungs, goose bumps break out all over me.
I’ve rediscovered church as a place of joy whenever a member shakes my hand at the door and says, “Your sermon encouraged me,” or “Your sermon spoke to something in my life that I need to change.”
I’ve rediscovered church as a place of joy whenever a toddler pretends that I’m Darth Vader and chases me around the fellowship hall with his “light saber,” or I’m coloring pictures with elementary children while we talk about important stuff like their favorite book, movie, or food, or when a five-year-old rushes into my arms for a hug, only to hear him say, “Hey Preacher. You’re Fired!”
I’ve rediscovered church as a place of joy whenever we’re led in prayer, and the person praying almost sounds as if he knows God personally.
I’ve discovered church as a place of joy whenever my “adopted” granddaughter chooses to sit with Cile and me during the worship as she pulls my reading glasses out of my shirt pocket so she can wear them.
I’ve rediscovered church as a place of joy whenever the teenagers gravitate to my family, as if we’re the “in crowd,” or when older members share with me from their lives as if I’m as respectable as they are.
While I can’t say I’ve ever been as heartbroken for missing the assembly as little Mark was, I can say I’m looking for more joy nuggets in our assemblies. Those nuggets, sometimes more valuable than the worship time itself, tend to do more to fuel my passion for ministry and for the assembly. When that happens Psalm 122 can link arms with Nehemiah 8:10 and be just as true, “The joy of the Lord is my strength.”
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)
Doing My Duty
A Gathering Place
It was a simple wall, located somewhere in Charlie Brown’s neighborhood. Children gravitated to the wall, including – but by no means limited to – Charlie Brown and Linus Van Pelt. It was their gathering place. Here they entertained new ideas, contemplated life’s questions, and reflected on the days’ events. One time after an embarrassing Halloween debacle, Charlie Brown lamented the number of rocks he received during “tricks or treating,” while Linus cried out why the Great Pumpkin did a “no-show” in his pumpkin patch.
Gathering Walls are not only common places, but are needed in society. In many small towns, court house squares often serve as a natural gathering place where people come to jump start their mornings. Sometimes a local diner, serving hot coffee, attracts customers who sip their Joe while exchanging ideas. I have a friend who regularly heads down to his local gun shop, where sometimes “unlike minds” load, unload and reload ideas with each other.
During the ancient days of the Bible, the local gathering place was the city gates. Here, important business transactions took place, “lower” courts were convened, disputes were heard, and public announcements were posted or proclaimed. The elders of the town, those deemed wise because of age and experience, met to help negotiate conflict with neighbors. News in other towns and regions were learned as travelers entered the city. It’s no wonder that wisdom is personified as sitting at the gates (Prov. 1:21). When the angels of God entered Sodom, they were greeted by Lot at the gates where he offered them a place to eat and sleep for the night (Gen. 19:1-2). When Boaz wanted to secure the “levirate marriage” to Ruth, he conducted his business transaction at the town gate, where he met with elders of the town and the nearest kin to secure his future bride (Ruth 4:1-2). In the Persian city of Susa, men plotted to kill King Xerxes, only to be thwarted by Mordacai’s decisive action against them. They hatched their plan at the city gate (Esther 2:21-23). When Jesus said that “the gates of Hades would not overcome the church” (Mt. 16:18), he may spoke words of encouragement for the church will endure and thrive despite all the forces opposed to Christ, including Satan himself.
A gathering place. Ideas are exchanged. Business transactions are completed. Politics are ironed out. Struggles are shared. Disputes are heard. Conspiracies are hatched, and more importantly, exposed.
In our fast paced world, filled with electronic devices, which tends to isolate people from each other, we’re missing places to gather; those places have now been taken over by social media. Twitter, limited to 140 characters, doesn’t lend itself very well to concepts that need exposition. How do you reduce complicated issues to one paragraph? FaceBook, by far the most common social media outlet to share ideas (family pictures, funny memes, prayer concerns), has its weaknesses as well. Memes probably carry far more weight than exposition. Sharing ideas or taking stances on controversial issues tend to alienate, by creating arguments instead of dialogue. The level of distrust and lack of civility quickly elevates “discussions” into full-blown (hateful) arguments. I’ve left a couple of groups because the conversation turned so hateful, and I’ve unfollowed people for similar reasons.
Maybe the problem with social media is that we’re no longer looking at people face to face? The words we type are so easy to express when we don’t know the person we’re talking too. It seems that the more anonymity exists, the greater chance for escalating arguments and judgmental accusations. I may know you or value the relationship, but I certainly don’t know the person who’s a friend to you; I’m certainly not invested with any real reason to maintain a relationship. My cause or agenda becomes more of a priority than the person, or the place to express and share ideas.
Maybe we need a gathering wall, a place to engage with one another. A place to go and discuss what is on our hearts. A place where we can share our hurts and pains. A place to iron out our differences. A place to express new ideas and insights into difficult issues. A place where we can speak, and a place where we can listen. And maybe on an occasion, a place where we can pray. Maybe it’s a place where hugs are free, handshakes are made, and we can look at each other face-to-face.
Then again, maybe that Gathering Place is called Church.
bonum dolar!
(i.e. Good Grief!)
The Tailor
Parenting from the Pew
Watching your children sleeping, seeing their faces light up when they open Christmas presents, and being the recipient of their unconditional love only touches the hem of joy a parent experiences. Cleaning up after a sick child, teaching them boundaries and correcting behavior tends to elevate the stress and the blood pressure in a parent’s life. Where we’d like to say that church attendance falls under the first category, the truth is it manages to fall under the latter category.
The worship service promises an uplifting experience; the saved are gathered, they commune at the Supper, songs fill the building with hope, and friends call each other “brother” and “sister.” Still, we rarely check our problems and struggles at the door. The burdens from the work-week are carried over into church. The loved one is still sick. COVID hovers over everything like a black cloud. The family arguments do not magically dissolve in the parking-lot. And children will challenge parental authority, even at church (e.g., try explaining to a two or three-year-old why they cannot have the “cracker” mommy and daddy are eating). Thus, the promise of an uplifting experience often dissipates into a frustrating, painful hour.
All of us as parents have experienced such frustrations. They seem to begin before leaving home as we try to feed, dress, and get the children ready for church; no doubt, the new outfit will have a spill on it before walking out the door. The worship hour seems ill-spent as the time is consumed keeping the children silent, still, and satisfied. Walking through the church doors is often filled with discouraging thoughts, wondering what was accomplished. And who experiences a meaningful time at the Lord’s Supper while trying to keep the children calm and subdued?
Sometimes we need to be reminded of the good we’re doing as parents. Perspective can help us view the situation differently or at least positively. But offering advice is like the young minister without children preaching a sermon entitled The 10 Commandments for Parenting. When he and his wife started a family, he changed the sermon to The 10 Suggestions for Parenting. And when his children reached the teenage years, he threw the sermon into the trash. Raising children is hard work with plenty of setbacks. With no manual in hand, easy answers do not exist.
Find peace in God’s grace. Few children will be the twelve year-old Jesus lost in Jerusalem only to be found at the temple. Actually most will push for their own identity while pressing the boundaries parents have set. It’s normal. Remember, if God were the “parent” for Adam and Eve, even he struggled to keep his “children” in line. So we continue shaping and molding their character by pointing them to Jesus.
Connect the dots between church and home. What happens at church needs further teaching, discussion and reinforcement at home. Both what they studied in Bible class and what the preacher talked about in the sermon are easy points of spiritual engagement, even for children. Parents and children praying together with reading or sharing a Bible story creates a spiritual bond. Frame life’s teaching moments as living for God, much like in Deuteronomy 6:7-9. Possibly the two worst approaches are parents saying nothing about God or church in the home, and the parents who say disparaging words in front of the children about church. Both are spiritual killers.
Children spot the hypocrisy. It doesn’t take long for them to see how much or how little Christ means to their parents. A child was once sitting next to his father during the sermon, having an epiphany, turned to him and said, “Hey Dad! He’s talking about you.” All parents have that moment. The child spots the inconsistency and innocently draws attention to the parents’ flaw. The real question is, what happens next?
“People were bringing little children to Jesus to have him touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.’’ (Mk. 10:13-14)
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)
Cry Out to the Lord
Facing Our Enemies
While Lucy was hardly a fan of Snoopy, the beagle only had two enemies; one was real and the other played out in his imagination. The first one was the cat next door. During the fifty years Schulz penned the comic, we never saw this phantom menace. We only saw the results of his aggressive attack on Snoopy – a chunk of his dog house, missing in the final frame with the remaining section in the shape of a cat’s claw.
The other enemy was the World War I Flying Ace’s nemesis, the Red Baron. Whenever the Ace was sent on patrol, he inevitably crossed paths with the Baron, and the fighting ensued. They both had missions, and they’re both roadblocks to clearing the skies of the enemy. In every meeting, the fighting was intense; machine guns fired at rapid speed. In every meeting, the Ace’s Sopwith Camel was flacked with bullets, and the Ace was usually shot down behind enemy lines.
I’m not sure what to make of Snoopy’s antagonists. Concerning the cat, Snoopy usually egged on the conflict by making ridiculing remarks to his neighbor. He pays a price for it in the damage to his home. Concerning the Red Baron, while he was historically a real and successful German fighter pilot in WWI, he is only as real as Snoopy’s imagination. If the Ace had actually shot down the Baron, who would he fight the next time he went on patrol? So it’s easier to take a hit, keep the Baron alive, and feed his anger towards him.
Isn’t that true with anyone you consider your enemy? Let’s keep the fuel of fire against them burning as long as we can, because we’re defining our strengths against their shortcomings. Let’s dehumanize our enemy because it makes it easier to hate them. Like in war, let’s draw clear battle-lines and assume our position is always right and their position is always wrong, and let’s bring God into the arena where we assume he takes our side.
Maybe that’s what makes Jesus’ words so radical. While the Israelites thought the command from Leviticus 19:18, “Love your neighbor,” justified hating one’s enemy, Jesus clarified the command. Hatred, and the feeding of hate, was never justified. In fact, he sets the bar even higher by commanding us to “love our enemies” (Mt. 5:44a), and if that’s not hard enough, he adds, “pray for those who persecute you” (Mt. 5:44b). Where the world calls for an “eye for eye” mentality (Mt. 5:38 quoting Ex. 21:23 & Lev. 24:20, which was a statement made for judges and courts to rule fairly, not for permission to taken the law into one’s hands), Jesus calls for compassion. In this way we’re facing our enemy.
Jesus’ call crosses every line we’ve drawn in the sand, or every barrier we’ve erected to keep us divided. Where “facing our enemy” used to mean squaring off to fight, he redefines it through the service of loving and praying for our enemies. How do we defuse the racial tension? By “facing our enemies” with love and prayer. How do we bridge the anger between the social economic chasms? By “facing our enemies” with love and prayer. How do we respond to those who have hurt us with malicious intent? By “facing our enemies” with love and prayer.
This kind of life demands faith. Faith leading to kindness and gentleness prevails in a world filled with destruction and retaliation. This kind of faith trusts God with the future, and does not make him choose a side. This kind of faith allows us to face our enemy with all courageousness, as God’s Spirit begins to work in us and through us to his glory.
On the night before Israel was to begin the conquest of Canaan, the purist vision of a Holy War, Joshua encounters a man with a drawn sword. When Joshua confronts the man, asking which side he was on, the angelic being answered, “Neither, but as commander of the army of the Lord I have now come” (Josh. 6:13b-14). In a clear moment where God was granting victory to Israel to destroy Jericho, they’re reminded that just because they will win this battle, doesn’t mean God cared nothing for the people of Jericho. A big difference exists between God granting a victory over people, and God’s choosing a side in the battle.
One of my favorite Christmas songs as a child was by The Royal Guardsmen, and the song arose out of the famous World War I Christmas truce of 1914. In the song, Snoopy faces off with the Red Baron, and in the dog-fight, Snoopy loses. The Red Baron forces him to land behind enemy lines, where, instead of being taken prisoner, or worse, the Baron pops champagne and celebrates Christmas with his enemy. Ironically, it’s not our hero schooling us on how to face our enemies, but it’s the enemy showing us how to love one another.
bonum dolar!
(i.e., Good Grief!)