It is only when you begin to accept that your greatest problem in all of life is not what has happened or been done to you that you begin to get excited about the rescuing grace of Jesus Christ. It is only when you begin to accept that your greatest need is something with which you came into the world that you will begin to hunger for the help that only God can give you. It is only then that you begin to hunger for more than changes of situation and relationship. It is only then that you will begin to accept the most radical and personally liberating truth that you could ever conceive. What is the truth? It is that what you and I really need to be rescued from ourselves! We are the biggest danger to ourselves. That is why God offers us the gorgeous promise of his grace which has the power to change us from the inside out.
Paul Tripp, Whiter Than Snow, 39
Monthly Archives: April 2009
Pictures from Augustana
Pastor Fred and Pastor Berg
Dorothy and Elizabeth
Andrew Walls on Change in the ‘World Christian Movement’
In the final essay of his book, The Missionary Movement in Christian History, Andrew Walls discusses the shift of the world Christian movement to the southern continents and its mission implications. Things are changing. Walls writes:
The territorial “from-to” idea that underlay the older missionary movement has to give way to a concept much more like that of Christians within the Roman Empire in the second and third centuries: parallel presences in different circles and at different levels, each seeking to penetrate within and beyond its circle (258-9).
Societies and boards that trace their roots back to William Carey and 1792 must admit that things are different now. The one-way traffic of sending and giving needs to become two-way traffic of fellowship, sharing, and receiving within the global church. It is the work of God that the church of the global south, economically poorer and less educated, is doing more for the gospel reaching the nations than we are in the West. This is not an indictment, this is cause for celebration. Let us celebrate the work of God and embrace our role not as the model, but as servants of Christ and of our brethren around the world.
The task of world evangelization that formed the declared programme of the missionary movement is not over; it never is. The essentially missionary nature of the church, the essentially missionary calling of the Christian, is where be began; and perhaps the twentieth-century fading of territorial Christianity enables us to see better that recession is as much a part of Christian history as expansion, part of the vulnerability, perhaps, of the means God has ordained to make the human witness to Christ… What is changing is not the task, but the means and the mode (261, emphasis mine).
“I Saw a Dude With a Strange Sign”— A Brief Thought on Truth
Yesterday evening on Hiawatha Avenue I saw a beggar holding a cardboard sign. This is no strange sight. The warmer weather brings panhandlers out of the woodwork. A previous conversation that day framed this particular event.
I was talking with Mike and he mentioned that he just wished the panhandlers were truthful. He jokingly said, “Their sign should just say ‘I want alcohol.’” “Just be honest,” he mused. I nodded my head in agreement and briefly imagined the strange virtue of such a reality.
With all this in mind last night, we rolled to the stop light and I saw the beggar to my left. He was dressed more like a cool punk rocker than a beggar (howbeit, in need of some fresher laundry). He had a conceited smirk on his face and so I looked closer at his sign. The free-handed Sharpie in all caps read, “NEEDED: 1) WHISKEY, 2) HOOKERS, 3) HOTEL”
Now I thought I would admire some presence of honesty here. I mean, that was my thought earlier in the day. But I had none. I sensed no ounce of respectability in his sign, however true it may had been. This provoked some thinking and I may have a reason behind my response…
It comes down to his expression. He was haughty and his demeanor was arrogant–not at all like most beggars I’ve seen, and not at all like the one I had imagined previously that day. Whatever bit of honesty there may have been in his sign had its virtue stripped away because of his arrogance.
Conclusion: Honesty is not virtuous when it is propagated in arrogance.
Application: No body cares how much truth you have if you are a jerk.
Mortification Actualization Application (pretend hip-hop beat in background)– Some Notes From John Owen
Let us not be fools and go through our days ignoring sin. Slit the throat of the ‘old man’ everyday and eventually we may have the joy of sensing the stench of his rotting corpse rather than the assault of his activities.
A while back, I scribbled these summary notes from Owen’s Mortification of Sin. It was an attempt to systematize what I was learning from Owen in order to put it to practical use. The series of five verbs helped me to get what I do in dependence of all the grace that God supplies…
Consider my sin’s symptoms– that is, how does this sin manifest itself in my life
Cease trying to find any evidence of goodness in me– we are prone to deceive ourselves into thinking that we are better than what we really are
Digest the seriousness of my sin in suspicion of its guilt, danger, and evil– don’t sell conviction short, get to the root of my junk
Speak not peace before God speaks it– this keeps us from superficial, monotonous verbiage. Just saying the stuff doesn’t mean anything.
Set your hope on Jesus Christ– we have to go to the gospel! Gaze at the cross in gratitude and realize my desperation for the Spirit!
Now, I Really Want You to Meet Pastor Berg
Then, there is Pastor Berg.
He is the quintessential pastor. He was one of the first that we met… sitting towards the back with evidences that he had been there well before we arrived, his marked up Bible was open on the table in front of him. He stood up to greet us. He was dressed neatly in a suit and tie and his words flowed out as smooth as his holy demeanor.
He identified himself as an “Hallelujah Lutheran,” explaining that the term was designated for him once in a worship service. Pastor Berg told the story so well. The preacher said something that he agreed with, so he belted out a hearty “amen.” The exclamation was quite uncommon for such a Lutheran congregation, he explained. The preacher actually paused during his sermon and noted that he had long been searching for a “Hallelujah Lutheran” and that finally he had found one. His childlike grin as he told the story warmed my heart.
I admire this man who is behind the start of several ongoing ministries in inner-city Minneapolis. There is a handful of TBI brothers who are involved in Community Emergency Service– Pastor Berg started this ministry to the poor back in 1971, when he was 60 years old. He loves John Piper and mentioned that he was very grateful for a church like Bethlehem Baptist, planted in the heart of the inner-city. We were told that he developed pneumonia in his early nineties that nearly proved fatal. But God preserved him and he has since written two devotional books.
I never knew what kind of encouragement an older saint could be. I thought we were going to minister to these old people–no, no… these aged holy ones of God have ministered to me.
Nothing captures this better than Pastor Berg and our most recent encounter. Tyler has finished teaching and the room had been cleared except for us talking to Pastor Fred. Tyler, Johan, and I encircled the sitting Pastor Fred as Pastor Berg slowly came up with his walker. With a smile he shook Tyler’s hand. He held on to TK’s hand as he reached for mine on his left. He took it and held on. There he was– walker in front of him, TK on his right, me on his left, his hands gripping both of ours. I was slightly nervous, I think. Then he said to Pastor Fred. “Fred,” he started. “There is hope for this ole’ world.” As he paused for a brief moment I could feel my face turning red in some sort of embarrassment. He slightly raised our hands and continued, “There is hope for this ole’ world because God is still sending messengers.”
“There is hope for this ole’ world because God is still sending messengers.” By the words of a 98-year old saint, right then and there I swallowed my calling in a new way. The taste was sweet and heavy all at once. Sweet that this old saint had preached the same message of hope that we do. Sweet that he was delighted and confident that the message will go on because of what God is doing. And heavy… heavy that he referred to me as a messenger. Heavy with a sense of my utter inadequacy for such a mission.
Paul said that to depart and be with Christ is far better. Nonetheless, his remaining was necessary for the Philippians’ sake. He remained for their progress and joy. I don’t know exactly why the Lord has sustained Pastor Berg to be a 98-year old man. But I do know this, his remaining until April 2009 has been for my progress. And for my joy.
I Really Want You to Meet Pastor Fred
Then, there is Fred. He is a retired Lutheran pastor, a 97-year old man with tubes in his nose and a great sense of humor. At first I thought he may be a little forgetful (because he was a bit repetitive). But he actually was messing with us. The guy is sharp.
He has given me two different types of tracts the last couple of times I’ve seen him. I liked the way he prefaced his most recent gift to me. He said, “Do you read?” Caught off guard, my response was stupid. I awkwardly shrugged my shoulders and said, “Yeah, a little.” He then handed me a pink tract from a bygone era, resonating with Christian Hedonism, it asks, Where is Happiness?
This retired pastor has done a lot. He mentioned that at one time he was an army chaplain. Upon our gestures of inquiry, he told us he was a WWII chaplain. Moreover, he was a WWII chaplain at The Battle of the Bulge–that is, the last big offensive move by the Nazi’s that resulted in more American fatalities than any battle in history. The man lived through the bloodiest battle in the history of our country, and he was 32 back then (9 years older than I am now). And he was there to tell people about Jesus.
I get nearly speechless when I think about it. It takes my breath. I am humbled. My heart is infused with gratitude. I am thankful for these brothers and sisters. I am thankful to God for the kind grace of crossing our paths.
When I am there, I am walking in the unforgettable.
I Really Want You to Meet Dorothy…
Next week will be our last scheduled time to meet… this Bible study that Tyler Kenney and I are teaching at Augustana Senior Apartments here in Minneapolis. It is a planned four-week study. My immediate reflection after three times together is how much we have been encouraged by some of seasoned saints who come hear us teach the Bible.
I am talking about folks in their late nineties who have a passion for Jesus Christ. People who have lived my life more than four times over. Three folks in particular. I’ll string my thoughts out over a few posts and introduce them individually each day.
First, there is Dorothy, a retired Salvation Army worker, single her whole life. She grew up in the sticks of Missouri and says she “never heard of Jesus” until she moved to Minnesota as a young adult. And it was when she was told about Calvary, she says, that sealed her love for Jesus. I’ve heard her pray a few times. Every prayer begins, “Thank You for Jesus!” I cannot verbalize what being around such a Christ-centered lady does for the soul (She was my daughter’s age when the US got involved in WWI). In the most sincerest tone that could be uttered, she prays for us before we teach and ask that Jesus “bless us real good.”
In her old age and with a heart enthralled with the gospel, she has written burdened letters to her family members. It has resulted so far in three of them putting their faith in Christ. She has shared with Tyler and I her concern that her neighbors may be deceived into thinking that their baptism is a “ticket to heaven.” She insists that we tell them otherwise, as TK was graced to do today in love and humble eloquence.
Praise God for Dorothy, a 93-year old sister who raises her hands in adoration while singing (and humming) “The Old Rugged Cross.” I never want to forget the sound of her saying, “I love Jesus.” This is no cheesy Christian pop lyric here. This is a saint speaking from her heart, no inhibitions, no worry about a childish snicker from those who hear.
She loves Jesus and she helps me love Jesus, too.
‘Minty Saliva Does Not Hush the Stomach’s Growl’
Please, I don’t want a mere diversion. Please, don’t just turn my eyes from looking at the world… but deepen my longings to the degree that I could never be so foolish as to believe that anything in this world can fulfill them. For there is no such thing as a starving man who will be deceived into thinking that a peppermint can satisfy his hunger when instead a feast is set before him. No hungry man chooses minty saliva when the other option is a full stomach.
Make me crave with the fullest intensity. Not diluted, no fluff. I want You. You. Please give me You.
In Jesus’ name, amen.
The Prison that Says We’re Good Enough
Each one of us needs grace that’s not only big enough to forgive our sin, but also powerful enough to free us from the self-atoning prison of our own righteousness. We’re not only held captive by our sin, but also by the delusion of our righteousness. Resting in God’s grace isn’t just about confessing your sin; it’s about forsaking your righteousness as well.
Paul Tripp, Whiter Than Snow, 29
