The New Circuit Riders...

I don't hear directly from the Lord in any vocal sense nor do I claim to be a prophet or the son of a prophet. Remember that as I share with you a vision that has been laying claim to my heart and robbing me of sleep for some time now and which I am acting on at last.

How do we get the message of Jesus outside of church walls? [and I am using "church" in its modern day sense of buildings, structures, and programs. I'm aware that isn't its meaning in Scripture so put the keyboards down...] I am calling for a new breed of circuit riders. Let me give you two examples of these people who I am seeking in our congregation and who are stepping up to answer the call.

At our third service, called Mosaic [but which I call "church for people who don't like church"] we have some of the tattooed, pierced, and spiked sitting together on one or two rows near the back. They are delightful people who love the Lord -- and whom I love -- but they don't fit in with the rest of the group. While Mosaic is filled with all kinds of people, there aren't many of "their people" who would walk into a large church building with them. My heart aches for those like these brothers and sisters who love Jesus but who will always feel alone in our churches. So I decided it was time to do something about that. I went to each of our "scruffy" brethren [their name for themselves, not mine!] and told them "I have a mission for you; a calling. We need to talk very soon." And we did.

With the full blessing of this church, each of these, male and female, are being called into ministry. We are wanting them to find ways to reach their friends and we are willing to train and mentor them. They have taken the name "The Scruffy Church" to describe themselves as they speak of Jesus to their friends during jam sessions or at work or at coffeehouses. They still meet with us on Sunday mornings -- their choice -- but they are free to be creative in spreading the good news about our Messiah and they are assured of our love and blessing as they do so. They are new traveling minstrels, wandering friars, a new form of religious order, new circuit riders.

There's also a group in our congregation who understand and appreciate the importance of prayer. Over the years they have experienced great frustration in trying to get the rest of the church to see and know what they see and know. They've tried setting up prayer groups, getting in a speaker on prayer, etc. but it has never "hit" as they wished it would. Rather than let them stew and die in disappointment I felt called to go to them and ask them to become a new religious order, a People of Prayer. Their job would be to fulfill their calling outside of the church's walls. Briefly -- and I'm leaving out a great deal -- they would be called upon to meet together and pray and then to separate and enter the world as prayer warriors, spreading the good news of Jesus one prayer at a time. They would enter a mall with the intention of praying for people and situations they see there [not confronting people or praying audibly with hands outstretched. This isn't for show]. If given the opportunity, they would ask someone if they could pray for them. People almost never refuse a quiet, simple, short prayer of blessing or a prayer for healing and help. The People of Prayer would then gather and encourage each other with their stories, pray for more opportunities, and go out once again.

On Sundays, we intend our worship services to be broken into time and again with stories of how God is working in these new circuit riders' lives. As we see more talent and more calling in our members we will commission them and send them outside the church walls to fulfill their calling. And if those they reach will not come here? Start a church with them "out there" and multiply the faithful in any way possible.

Scary? Not really. What if Jerusalem had decided it was too risky to send out those who were called to ministry? What if they decided they needed to convert Jerusalem first, or sort out the Jerusalem congregation first? If they had thought that way there would still, in 2006, only be one congregation of the faithful worldwide.

Risky? Sure. But Jesus told us to pick up a cross and follow Him. A cross! Something tells me everything about Christianity is supposed to be risky. What new religious orders could we form; not in the old sense of rules and regulations but in a new sense of developing and sending our members to reach the lost, using their talents and passions? For example -- have you seen the Jesus Painter? What would happen if you sent out a dozen Jesus painters to use their gifts in your community to draw attention to, and foment interest in, Jesus?

I believe the called and commissioned are already among us. Loose them and let them go. While we will never convince all the religious consumerists in our congregations to do Kingdom work, many will see the exciting, life changing things going on around them and want to be a part of this new work. Let's risk it. To God be the glory.

Two Prayers for Memorial Day

These are two prayers known to soldiers and marines. My son has them posted on his myspace page. I thought it appropriate to post something to honor those who paid the ultimate price for their country, their families, and for freedom.

A Soldier's Prayer:

Lord, I ask for courage;
Courage to face and
Conquer my own fears,
Courage to take me where
Others will not go...

I ask for strength,
Strength of body to protect others,
Strength of spirit to lead others.
I ask for dedication,
Dedication to do my job, and do it well.
Dedication to my country,
To keep it safe.

Give me, Lord, concern;
For those who trust me,
And compassion, for those who need me.
And, please Lord, through it all
Be by my side.

A Marine's Prayer:

Almighty Father, whose command is over all and whose love never fails,
Make me aware of Thy presence and obedient to Thy will.
Keep me true to my best self, guarding me against dishonesty in purpose or deed and
Helping me to live so that I can face my fellow Marines, my loved ones, and Thee without fear.
Protect my family. Give me the will to do the work of a Marine, and to accept my share of
Responsibilities with vigor and enthusiasm.
Grant me the courage to be proficient in my daily performance.
Keep me loyal and faithful to my superiors and to the duties my country and the Marine Corps
Have entrusted to me. Make me considerate of those entrusted to my leadership.
Help me to wear my uniform with dignity, and let it remind me daily of the
Traditions I must uphold. If I am inclined to doubt, steady my faith.
If I am tempted, make me strong to resist.
If I should miss my mark, give me the courage to try again.
Guide me with the light of truth and give grant me wisdom by which I may understand
The answer to my prayer.
Amen.


Remember that Memorial Day is not about sales, picnics, beer, and cookouts. Enjoy the day, for those who died would want you to. Laugh, play, eat, and shop if you want to. But take a moment to remember and pray. May we honor all who have given their lives, and their families who were left behind. May God grant them peace.

Reading Lists

I am about to enter a period of life where I will have to read many books on the same subject. I thought I'd let that world when I left university many years ago. I can remember the wonderful joy I felt when I opened a book I wanted to read rather than one I had to read! Yet... our staff has committed our lives and efforts to evangelizing our corner of Michigan and beyond and we have come to the conclusion that we need to know a great deal more about multi-site churches. Some of us have already traveled to visit multi-sites such as Napierville and all of us have found some books that all of us should read. So... starting next week I will be reading about missional churches and multi-site churches exclusively.

For now, I'll enjoy the books I'm reading. I am loving John Stossel's new book "Myths, Lies, and Downright Stupidity." It is a very easy and quick read loaded with common sense defusing of media and cultural myths. Alexander Webster and Darrell Cole's book "The Virtue of War" is a wonderful introduction to the Orthodox Church's view of just and justifiable wars (two different classifications). It is an important message from a rarely heard segment of wider Christendom.

Bill Bryson is one of my favorite authors and one of just a handful who can make me laugh outloud. His latest isn't his best, but I am still enjoying "A Brief History of Everything." Get the standard version. The extra special coffee table version is just too unwieldy.

Of course, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, so my thriller of this week is the latest novel by Lee Child in which he brings back former CID and MP Jack Reacher. "The Hard Way" looks to be another winner in the series.

I just finished "The Undercover Economist" and "South Park Conservatives" along with two of Ian Rankin's latest books, one starring John Rebus and the other Gordon Reeve. Good Scottish settings, genuine mysteries, and lots of thrills.

What books are you reading for fun or for study? Don't try to impress everybody -- just share what's good and what's not so good. When I come out from the cave after reading all the multi-site/missional church stuff I'll need some suggestions to bring me back into the mainstream world!

The Never Ending Battle

This is a retelling of the story of the battle for the souls of Koreans as I heard it from Andree Seu, at that time senior writer for WORLD magazine.

Korea went through centuries of purposeful, intentional isolation. All foreigners were kept away so that their culture could be kept pure, untouched by eil outside influences. Anti-foreigner decrees and anti-Christian decrees had been issued all the way back in the late 1500's but European traders and Christians kept searching for ways into the kingdom. A Dutch Reformed sailor was shipwrecked there in 1628 and a German believer made it there in 1832, but each were sent on their way quickly. Before the German left, however, he told some about Jesus and left behind some tracts and one copy of a Chinese translation of the Bible.

In 1866 the General Sherman, an American trading schooner, barged into the Taedong River intent on forcing the issue of trade. A passenger named Robert J. Thomas threw gospel tracts off the back of the ship. The Korean government reacted immediately and aggressively against the ship. They sent burning ships up against it so that it, too, would catch fire and kill all on board. The sailors and passengers jumped overboard in a vain attempt to save themselves. Thomas reached the shore and shouted "Jesus! Jesus!" The angry mob that awaited any survivors were armed with machetes and set about attacking any they could find. Thomas handed a peasant a Bible but the peasant, after taking the Bible, swung his blade and decapitated the American on the spot. The peasant took the Bible home and use the pages from it to paper a guest room in his humble home. Over the years, he couldn't help but read bits and pieces of it...

And he became a believer. Years later his nephew would graduate from Union Christian College in Pyongyang and serve on a committee to revise the Korean Bible. That is how it was, that one of the men in that mob became the first in a long line of believers.

But there was another man in that mob. He, too, wielded a machete. His name was Kim Ung U. He later had a son named Kim Bo Hyon, who had a son named Kim Hyong Jik, who had a son... named Kim Il Sung.

North Korea is ruled by the great grandson of one of the attackers on the Taedong dock. Faith was planted in Korea by another one of those attackers; a man who came to faith in Jesus as he read his wallpaper.

The age old war between the serpent and his seed and the woman and her seed continues (Revelation 6:9-11 anyone?). Even to this day, Christ and Satan battle over Korea. The July 23, 2003 edition of US News and World Report tells the story of a North Korean supporter of Kim Il Sung who was imprisoned over a minor, trivial infraction. In prison she marveled at the faith of the Christians as they faced torture and death. It struck her so powerfully that she became a believer as well.

The story isn't over. Keep praying. And come, Lord Jesus.

The Cry of the Banshee

My momma is a wee Irish lady. I call her my "pocket mom." If you asked me to describe her the words "sweet", "kind", "patient", and "loving" would roll off my tongue. After that it would just be repeating myself.

And yet... the thing about women is that they are so wonderfully complex creatures. Men, in contrast, are so simple: feed us and pet us and we are just fine. Women, however, were enough to stump the wisest man that ever lived. Solomon warned his sons that "the ways of a woman are past finding out." And he should know! As a good scientist he had run over 700 experiments in the "getting to know women" program before declaring that even he was baffled and beaten. Women are a fantastic blend of beauty, intelligence, daring, wisdom, drive, passion, grace, gentleness, and power that we men are just in awe of them -- or should be.

A couple of examples from my wee momma. When I was about 4 years old there was a village bully that loved to terrorize me. He was 8 years old and approximately the size of a pub. He loved thumping people and I was his favorite thumpee. One day he knocked me down in my back yard and was jumping up and down on my stomach when I heard the cry of the banshee and noticed that his head had just changed shape. A millisecond later I saw the source of both phenomena. My mother had arrived wielding a broom with more skill than Braveheart ever swung his double-handed long sword. She beat that kid off me, out of the yard, and up the street. I never saw him again. Perhaps, he is still running away. When my momma came back to check on me I couldn't speak. She thought it was because that mean ol' kid had stomped me, but the fact was: I was in shock. Who knew my momma had THAT in her???

Truth: I behaved a lot better after then. I mean, I didn't want to set that beastie off and have it run at me next time, did I?

Before I was born, my mother was told that she couldn't have any other children. She'd borne two daughters but her insides were too messed up so they did a procedure on her and told her that that was it; no more kids. She kept telling the doctors, "But I must have a son. I have to have a preacher." So she prayed the prayer of Hannah, promising God that if He gave her a son, she would give him back, dedicating him to Christian service.

Yes, as hard it as might seem to imagine: I am a miracle. However, I had not been consulted on the deal my momma made with God, so I spent the first 35 or so years of my life trying to renegotiate it. I didn't want to be a minister. I didn't even want to be connected with or involved with the church! I got my degrees in science, formed my networks there, and tried to run from God... but momma was praying. And nobody stands a chance against a wee Irish momma's prayers.

So this Sunday I stood up and preached our three morning services. I praised mothers and patted children on the head. I called people to the Lord's table and we shared in communion. I answered peoples' questions about life, Bible versions, child rearing, and Ezekiel. And at the end of the day I laid in bed and thought about my mother. Her health hasn't been very good recently. At 75, she's had a hard life in mission work and her cup has been overflowing with both pain and joy.

And I prayed for momma.

You see, it's my turn, now.

God Bless the Children

This will be a strange Mothers' Day at the Rochester Church. Although we have more than 1200 members, we meet in three morning services and there is a powerful sense of family and intimacy in our fellowship. When one suffers, we all suffer.

And some are suffering today. Little Lyndsi has died. Her family welcomed her just over a year ago, adopting her from a far off land. She was a dear little girl, widely loved and fussed over by all of us who knew her. Just a matter of weeks ago she took ill and was taken to hospital by her parents (salt of the earth people, by the way -- wonderful people and wonderful parents). They got a diagnosis none of us expected: leukemia. After an initial fright, the news became a bit better. The doctors were sure they could treat tiny Lyndsi; that she could survive this aggressive disease. That is why it was such a shock to hear yesterday that Lyndsi had died. One day, she was riding her little bicycle. The next day, she was in heaven and her parents were experiencing the worst pain a human can feel.

I cannot get them out of my mind. I will not publish their names or details for their privacy is worth more than any blog or column, but I will ask that you pray for Lyndsi's parents who must wait so very long before they get to see her again. It has made for a painful Mothers' Day -- and will continue to make this day a difficult one for that family in years to come as it rolls around. I have always ached for those who suffer significant loss on a holiday such as this or Christmas. While others rejoice, they will forever remember the tragedy that marked their lives forever.

Children are so precious to me -- and to Jesus -- that I have never been able to understand those who consider them a nuisance or, worse, a "choice." Now, worldnetdaily.com has published excerpts of a letter written by Ron Weddington, one of the attorneys to argue the Roe vs. Wade case before the Supreme Court, urging then President Clinton to use the legality of abortion as a way to "eliminate the barely educated, unhealthy, and poor segment of our country." He goes on to say "I don't think you will get very far in reforming this country until we have a better educated, healthier, and wealthier population." He urged the new president to liberalize abortion laws so that the poor, uneducated, and unhealthy percentage of our population could be wiped out. His language is graphic and without nuance. He celebrated the 30 million abortions that had occurred by that time, arguing that the world was much better off without those births.

How can anyone throw away children so cavalierly? How can anyone mark a population as not worthy to live? How could anyone encourage some of our people to kill their children so that the country will be better off?

And all the time he writes this bloody letter, there are people waiting for the chance to adopt children, there are parents mourning the loss of their children, and there are Christians ready to love and help any expectant mother and her child -- before and after their birth.

Could the differences between us and the "liberal, loving, progressive" left be more plainly writ? God bless the children. And bless them through us, since we may be the best hope -- or the only hope -- they have.

And, God? Tell Lyndsi we love her. And we'll be right up to see her very soon.

Borders, Roads, and Planes

I'm on the road again this week though, thankfully, it is only a four hour drive west across the State of Michigan and not a series of small planes and borders. I crossed the border on Friday when I spoke in Windsor, Ontario to a group of law enforcement officers. Crossing the border is always nerve-wracking to me for some reason.

Hint: when a border agent asks you if you have any weapons, the WRONG answer is "What do you need?" I must warn you that body cavity searches, after the third or fourth one, lose their novelty. But you do make new friends so factor that in.

The question that always gets me is: "Are you bringing any fruit into the country?" Fruit? Fruit? Do I look like I've ever had a piece of fruit? Are you mocking me, border boy? You just let Muhammed go through with three rifles on his back seat and the distinct sound of ticking coming from his trunk, yet you fear that my Bartlett Pear will bring down civilization?

Of course, I only say that inside my head...

On my last trip I was certain I was beside a suicide bomber. That dude was nuttier than squirrel poop and sweating like Michael Jackson at a Chuckie Cheese.

But I didn't die.

I get to drive to Hastings so I'll take along my laptop, a ukulele, maybe my travel banjo, some books, and good intentions. Perhaps God will bless the trip and my efforts there. He usually does, but He's under no obligation to always spoil me and I know that. Just spoil me a little longer, Lord, then take me off this planet.

But not in a plane. That guy was freaky.

This is my son, Duncan, standing beside his recruiter, Sergeant White. On the right, he is between the officers assigned to him, Captain Shields and Major Worth. We were at Marine Corps Family Night in White Lake, Michigan.

Hoorah!

Duncan is in the early stages of deciding whether to do Platoon Leader Class, and which university he will choose to do so, or whether he will go the NROTC route. Either way, we're behind him.

To all who wear or have worn the uniform, and to all who carry a badge or warrant card to keep us safe, and to all who pray for them: thank you.

Catching the Wave

Things are moving fast in our lives and this blog will be the place for people to read about it. Here are some recent highlights.

1. Duncan has begun training with the Marines. Its all simple stuff right now as he isn't even officially in the Delayed Entry Program, but he loves it. People all over the nation are writing letters commending him on his morality, leadership, and character. The letters will go into his file so that he can secure a place in NROTC or the Platoon Leader Program (MECAP). He is psyched, pumped, fit, and raring to go.

2. At Rochester Church over the last week we had a Kevinathon to raise money in memory of one of our own little boys who died several years ago. His parents run our nationally recognized charity, Gods Helping Hands, that feeds and clothes 400-500 people a month. We also had a 4+ mile march for the Global Night Commute on behalf of invisiblechildren.com. Over three hundred people marched. It made the newspapers and TV.

3. Speaking of which -- did anyone else see the praise heaped on the Church of Christ during the PGA tour event on TV last Sunday? They mentioned Richland Hills and the church several times in a ten minute story on the charity work done by our tribe. What a pleasant surprise!

4. I got a call from an elder at a nearby CoC last Wednesday night. He is a law enforcement officer and a graduate of the FBI National Academy. The FBINAA was having their annual luncheon across the Detroit River in Windsor, Canada on Friday... and they just realized they didn't have a speaker. Panic had set in. I agreed to change my Friday schedule and go into Ontario and I'm glad I did. There were about 35 (or, preacher count, 76) officers from various US and Canadian law enforcement agencies present. I met good men and women and assured them of our prayers and God's appreciation for their service. Remember to pray for all who carry a badge or warrant card on behalf of us.

5. This week I will travel to the tiny Western Michigan town of Hastings, MI to give a three day seminar on Christian Evidences. I am often asked why I go to smaller churches instead of bigger venues such as Pepperdine. My answer is -- not everybody will go to the smaller places. I will because I grew up in them. They matter to me. I am happy to do my part for them while my dear friends take the Word to the larger gatherings.

6. I gave a keynote address to the Michigan Christian Convention two weeks ago. I got some hate mail for fellowshipping and loving my brothers in the Independent Christian Church but I'm not complaining. I have not yet resisted unto blood.

God bless all of you. Stay tuned here for personal, political, and theological bits and pieces. Go to tentpegs.blogspot.com for columns on family life, mental health, and child rearing.