by Doug Blair
Let's take the next half hour in our table groups and get into this, and then report. I will take away and consider all of the notes submitted. I do not intend to be hurt by any of this, only guided. Now I want to get to work with my own table."
"Oh, and by the way, next Wednesday we will have here in this room real basins of water and towels. The servant is not above his Lord."
The process had begun...at Mid-week.
KEEP ON ROWIN’
Thursday morning 9:15. Keith in sweats. Jogging the neighbourhood. Seemingly a new lightness in his step. Down to the Church office in a lather. Samantha would be there already. Book entry day. Check up on correspondence. Messages. Written submissions from the night before. Home to change. Scheduled afternoon visitations,
"Mornin' boss."
"Good morning, Keith. Here's the paperwork. Phone message also from Todd Bushnell."
Todd, hmmmm. That was interesting. Big church across town. Same graduating year. Hadn't spoken in about six weeks. Dial him up. Personal cell phone this time. Three rings.
"Todd, it's Keith. Got your message. What's up?"
"Beef, how are ya? (nickname from college; two men sculling team; long story). Keith, I have heard from one of your people, who shall remain nameless, that you are turning things upside down over there...Now hold on; don't get upset; I am more curious than anything. Talk to me."
Keith spent the next five minutes bringing his old friend up to date. The burden. The sermon. The challenge. The parishioners coming out of the bushes with support. The prayers of old George. There were many indicators that God was moving behind all of this.
"Beef, I may have been made party to some complaints, but I am with you on this. Discipleship has become so watered down. The community remains largely untouched. Sure, I have some of the big numbers now. Studied some of those denominational church growth packages. Put in a few bells and whistles. But I tell you, I am tired and I am not seeing the kind of zeal and honesty that Calvary deserves. I see activity, lots of program and seeming happiness, but little reverence, expectation or compassion. When particularly drained, I have had talks with Suzie about giving it up for something else.
But you friend, have picked me up and washed my feet. Washed my feet. Keep me informed, will ya? We'll be praying. I'll phone later for some Saturday morning together. We need that. Keep on rowin'.
WHAT THOSE STRAINED EYES STILL SEE
Thursday. Just after lunch. George Cromarty had navigated his chair on auto-drive down to the sun room. The warmth felt good.
His nephew Stewart was waiting for him there, just like clockwork. Every second Thursday.
"Hi Stu. Glad you could make it. How was traffic across town?
"Pretty much the same, old fellow. Krista sends her love. Wants you to know we will be up Sunday afternoon with something special. Pie. You already know the flavour."
"How is she keeping, Son? You know, the fibromyalgia?"
"It seems to be a little better with this spring. Doctor has some new twists with the treatment. But really, how little they know about this one. We pray, as always. We are thankful right now for the relief."
"I know Stu. Give her a kiss from me, will you? Until Sunday. Now I have the book. Same one as last time. A real personal favourite. Go to page 65. Dear old Rutherford. Transformed to poetry by Faith Cook. I have read it and re-read it for decades."
The selection was entitled An Absent Christ
Who can discern Christ's secret ways,
For with love's chain He fettered me
Then ran away and left my soul
To mourn in sweet captivity?
I dare not call my Saviour harsh,
Though He may come and go at will,
Feed me with love, then clear the board
And leave my soul a-hungering still.
My tide is low, my sea is out
When my Beloved goes away;
Yet still I clamour at His door
Nor give Him rest by night or day.
In Christ's kind hand I place my need
Whose bounty is my sole supply;
For my best riches are those wants
That Christ Himself must satisfy.
(To Lady Culross, Aberdeen, 1637, Letter 222)
FEEDING ONE’S EARS
"Dad, are you going away some place in a sports car?"
"Why do you ask that, Mike?"
"Well Mom said that you were leaving us on a Fast for today and Saturday."
It was hard for Keith to suppress the roar at the kitchen table. This five year-old could be such a hoot!
"No Son a fast is something you do with God, not something that takes you on a trip.
"So what are you gonna do?"
"Well I am going to my Church study. Closing the door. Sitting down in the big chair in the corner. Opening my Bible. Telling God how much I love Him. And listening. No food. No messages. No visitors. Probably little done at home either."
"Why would you do that? You like Mom's cooking, don't you?"
"Of course, but this time it is important that I feed my ears. Not my stomach. My hobbies. My reading. My television. My jogging. My sermon preparation. My friends' invitations. Even my time with you guys and Mom. I am telling God that in the midst of something important I only want to deal with him, and hear what He wants me to do, and when."
"Well what's so important?"
"This is a very special time at the Church. Jesus wants people to get closer to Him, love Him more deeply and help others more frequently. They don't need to hear from me what I think; rather what God thinks.
You probably don't remember, but when you were very young and disturbed about something, you liked to crawl up into my lap on the rocking chair and nestle close to my chest, staying still and hearing my heartbeat. Ka-thump, ka-thump. That's what I'm going to do for two days, just like a kid...with God."
"So you're going to feed your ears...still sounds to me like you're going to travel to some place different on a Fast."
"OK Son, you win."
NEW HOME FOR FISH
Beth could see that young Michael was in a frump. It was Saturday morning. He was playing with his waffle in the pool of syrup. His sister had gone over to a girlfriend's to work on a project for school. His Dad had left early for the Church. That Fast again.
"Mike, let's hop in the car and go down to the market. I have a surprise."
....The pet shop had been busy, and the five-year old was all eyes. Colourful birds. One that talked! A couple of sleepy puppies. Lizards that you could hardly make out on the dried sticks of wood on the gravel. And lots of fish of all colours. It had been a difficult decision as to which goldfish, but finally they were back in the car-bagged fish, food, dip-net, large glass bowl, special gravel and a little ceramic sunken ship.
Home in the kitchen Beth had already set out a bowl of water to attain room temperature. She gently poured the new family member out of the bag and into the bowl. The little guy froze for a moment in his new surroundings and then began to swim around cautiously.
Mother and son proceeded to warm rinse the new aquarium, lay in the gravel and ship model and half-fill the bowl with tap water.
"Do you think he'll like his new home, Mom?"
"Yeah, I think so, but it would probably be nice in a couple of weeks to get him a friend. Isn't he pretty with that brilliant orange and two black saddles by the back fin?"
"What should the next one be, d'ya think...black?"
Twenty minutes later and a warmer fish tank. "The idea here Mike is gently to approach him with the net, lay it below him and raise him out of the bowl. Carefully carry him to his new home and lower him down and in. Don't drop him from a height."
The little angler, biting his tongue, did as instructed. The fish flopped in a panic in the dripping net. For a few seconds Mike observed this struggle mid-air and registered a look of puzzlement.
"Why does he do that Mom? I don't want to hurt him. He looked like he was afraid for his life. But he's g
oing into a nice new place. Bigger, brighter, good food, clean water and a new friend soon. I guess he just doesn't know what we know, eh?"
Beth thought of her husband down at the Church in prayer, focusing on changes which were coming for the fellowship, and the inevitable struggle in the process. She chuckled at the spontaneity of her little preacher.
Then, speaking quietly to herself, "So often we are in that dip-net."
KEITH’S QUESTIONS CROP UP
Time to stop in the tale of Pastor Keith and his desire to see more grass-roots participation in the church. All of the articles (posts)are contained under the "Surgeons Cut" label, and could be printed out in hard copy as a working paper. (Start at the bottom of the run with A Voice for Him)
There is no simple fix for the problems of stultifying routine and over-dependence upon professional ministry. One cannot point-by-point lay out a format to force increased spiritual zeal and sincerity. Service and evangelistic opportunities will be different in each community. The momentum achieved in "theatrical" worship will be hard to reverse for something more participatory. Words from the floor have their place. Trust will have to be developed before testimony fulfills its powerful purpose in a gathering. Believers are personally responsible for moving beyond the basics in their understanding of God's Word, and the Gospel in particular. Bible study helps abound. Corporate prayer should be developed, and program announcements minimized. Worship time is precious. The rush of service number two at the heels of service number one is dampening.
But perhaps I can help in tendering the following comments:
1. God loves to be sought out.
2. God loves to touch the broken and contrite spirit. (Psalm 34)
3. God loves intercession.
4. God loves the five-fold ministry.
5. God loves families.
6. God loves the child-like spirit.
7. God loves His appointed day of rest to be simplified. (Isaiah 58)
8. God would rather hear from a wounded one than a learned one.
9. God loves to be thanked. (Psalm 107)
10. Sing. The day is coming when God will rejoice over us with singing. (Zephaniah 3)
It has not been my intention to cast comment on any particular assembly in our little story; rather it is a blend of numerous observations from numerous places.
Perhaps some day I will take a crack at a conclusion in the story of Keith and his shepherding, his church and his family. But then at the finish we have only really just begun...
ALMOST HOME
A Wednesday afternoon. Keith ran the stairs two at a time to the fourth floor. He knew the service door push-button combination. No time for the elevator. Stewart and Krista were already there and Nurse Katie, senior woman in George Cromarty's wing. There was evidence that the Doctor had just left.
"Hi guys, when did it happen?"
Stewart turned slowly from his uncle, "About 9:45. Katie was the first one to know."
The nurse put her hand on Keith's shoulder. "He had had a good breakfast. Shared some laughter with one of the newer residents. A volunteer wheeled him back and all seemed OK. I got a ring at the desk an hour later. He was all smiles. Told me that we hadn't had our mid-week "chin-wag". Told me a bit about what is going on at the Church, Keith.
Then he reached over to the side table for his Bible and handed it to me. Asked me to open it where the paper clip was, and to start reading at the 6th verse through the 19th. There, Stewart the Book is right beside you. It was Psalm 34, I think. 'Scuse me, I'm not quite up on these things any more. The stroke musta' been within the half hour after I left."
Stewart took the Bible, faced his uncle again, tried to focus on the one moist eye still where it was supposed to be, and read to the silent Scot:
6This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles.
7The angel of the LORD encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them.
8O taste and see that the LORD is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him.
9O fear the LORD, ye his saints: for there is no want to them that fear him.
10The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger: but they that seek the LORD shall not want any good thing.
11Come, ye children, hearken unto me: I will teach you the fear of the LORD.
12What man is he that desireth life, and loveth many days, that he may see good?
13Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile.
14Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it.
15The eyes of the LORD are upon the righteous, and his ears are open unto their cry.
16The face of the LORD is against them that do evil, to cut off the remembrance of them from the earth.
17The righteous cry, and the LORD heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles.
18The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.
19Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivereth him out of them all.
Krista was holding George's good hand. He slowly withdrew it and displayed his first two fingers. Krista looked puzzled, "Two, the number two. Do you want us to continue with the second Psalm George?"
A queer acknowledging smile was made by the good side of the face. Things continued in this fashion for another ten minutes and then the old boy's eyes closed in sleep, one at a time. Others in the room huddled closer, and hugged silently.
Katie had remained throughout like a loving sentinel. No one had called for her over the P.A.
STEP IN, GOD
Godlessness recoiling
Strikes again the blow.
Jesus’ name is slandered.
Lord, that they might know.
(He is all the glory.
He is all the praise.
He is all the answer,
For these restless days.)
Fear of God is lacking.
Love of Christ is rare.
Churches hide their candle.
Do they really care?
“Men are all-sufficient;”
So the journals sing.
(Why need we a “saviour”?
Strange, out-dated thing.)
Still the candle flickers,
Touching one by one,
Hearts that seek for better,
Hearts that hear the Son.
Stop the superficial!
Stop the sad parade!
There is not a blessing,
But that God has made!
He will soon take action,
Laying bare men’s games.
Burning through the districts
With revival’s flames!
Then Christ gets the glory.
Then the ransomed sing.
Then awakened folk see
God in everything.
Lord, please send revival!
Send once more the rain!
Holy, happy wonders
In our midst again.
NOW JUST SETTLE DOWN!
I listen to you as you engage with friends and family. All the things you would like to see my Church doing. All the error you have identified. All the side eddies of teaching topics which miss the major thrust of my Good News.
You say that you are weary of dishonest "positive confession", of spiritual pride, of a competitive spirit in the flock, of the lust for "new revelation".
You observe "worship sessions" which are ruled by the clock or by an order of service which is man-contrived, and not looking in the least for the Spirit's leading. You chafe at Christ-less sermons.
There is much talk of service but the unchurched, needy or broken do not become the focus of your little church family...ever.
Do you think that I will use you in this "tizzy" of criticism and restlessness? Where is my peace and unconditional love? Remember my prayer outside the Upper Room for the disciples? How I recognized the victory that would be their's, with the
Father's help, even when they had yet to turn from me and run and fail miserably.
I am telling you that I wait for the longsuffering to show forth. Abide in me. Meditate on my earth walk. Stop your speaking out against shallowness or controversy. Be eloquent in intercession. That is purposeful.
Gain my stride. Watch for surprising opportunities for ministry which I will release. Not one of them will be small in my estimation. Do not go forward in the flesh.
I love you too and will see you bear fruit. Be available but do not be in a lather.
ALL THINGS WORK TOGETHER
Todd Bushnell got up from the table to give Keith a big hug. Through their secretaries they had arranged lunch at Ennios, their favourite pasta place. Todd had only heard vaguely about the accident.
"Beef, good to seeya. Grab a chair and tell me what's going on with Beth?"
Before they could get started a waitress appeared and they put in their orders for Caesar salad and the house favourite spagghetini with meat sauce.