What Can I Say?

“Rejoice with those who rejoice,

and weep with those who weep.”

Romans 12:15

Yesterday I spoke with a woman whose younger sister was brutally murdered. In the course of our conversation, I asked whether she attended church, and she said she didn’t and hadn’t since the time of the murder. I asked her why, and she answered that the unintentionally hurtful comments of others had caused her to doubt the faith and leave.

Tragic experiences can drive people further or closer to God, and the words and actions of believers often seem to have an influence.

As I thought about this, it occurred to me that, for better or worse, the Lord has allowed me to experience and witness quite a few ‘tragedies’. In my personal life, I experienced the sudden and unexpected death of my first wife due to an aneurysm and the diagnosis of a son with a severe disability. Less personal, but still deeply affecting, I witnessed, at close hand, the aftermath of the 2004 tsunami in Asia; and then, along with the rest of the world, the destruction of the twin towers.

I do not believe, in any way, that my experience of tragedy is unusually great, but I do believe I can speak to tragedy as one who has experienced and witnessed it.

That said, in light of my conversation with the lady yesterday and of this date (the anniversary of the 9-11 attacks), I thought I would share a few thoughts on what one should and should not say to someone experiencing tragedy, in particular to someone who has recently lost a loved one to death. These are just my opinions and the list is not exhaustive.

What you should not say:

 “I know exactly how you feel.”  

No, you don’t. You are not Almighty God and you do not have privileged access into the inner recesses of my heart. My pain is uniquely mine. Only God know exactly what I’m feeling. That said, there is a possible exception, and that is when you have experienced a tragedy identical (or very similar) to the one being experienced. In that circumstance, you can say, “I think I know a little of what you’re feeling” and then share briefly (and I mean briefly) what you experienced.  And leave out the word “exactly.”

 “God never gives us more than we can handle.”

This is the sort of inane platitude that shows one is clueless concerning true pain. Yes, you might protest, “but it’s true. He doesn’t.” But regardless of the truth of such platitudes, your comment only comes across as irrelevant and trivializing. My reflexive internal response to your comment will probably be, “Balderdash,” my pain feels like more than I can handle.

 “God must have wanted her/him with Him in heaven.”

So what you’re telling me is that God’s desires trumped mine and He didn’t give a rip that taking my loved one ripped my heart apart? Or are you trying to make some sort of theological statement – that everything, including this, happened because God wanted it to happen? Even though this seems to me the most horrid thing that could have happened? And, then, are you simultaneously trying to tell me that this is the Almighty God Whom I should worship, love and adore? I think your comment may fall a little flat.

 “Time heals all wounds.”

Sure, if you’re speaking in terms of eternity (and of a believer’s wounds). But if you’re talking about one’s experience in this lifetime, that’s a lie. There are some wounds that never heal. There are some pains that never go away. There are some losses of which time only dulls the ache. And your telling me that time will heal my wound suggests that I will someday ‘get over’ my loss. Not true. And frankly, it might lead me to think you are dishonoring the memory of my loved one. How could I be ‘healed’ of missing ________?

 “I’m here for you.”

Don’t say this unless you really mean it. Funerals bring out many well-wishers, but most are gone in months. People go back to their lives and forget the pain of those who mourn. If you say, “I’m here for you,” prove it by being a friend through the next months and years, extending yourself even as the mourner doesn’t seem to be “getting over it.” If you, as a follower of Christ, say you are ‘always here’ for someone and then prove a liar, what have you communicated concerning the One you say you follow? The One who says, “Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

What you should say:

 “I love you and I care about you.”

Again, only say this if you mean it. But if you follow Jesus, you should mean it. This communicates that I matter, that I am important to you, and you want to help.

 “I’m sorry.”

This says you sense my pain and loss, and it expresses that understanding without attempting to mitigate the extent of my pain.

 “I don’t know why this happened.”

I don’t know why a sovereign God permits horrible tragedies to be part of our human experience, and, frankly, neither do you. Yes, I can pontificate on man’s fallen sin condition and the ‘fairness’ of each man’s death and suffering, but I cannot explain why one person lives eighty years and another dies at twenty. And you can’t either. Don’t try. Your explanations ring hollow as I instinctively realize you are not God.

 “I’m praying God will give you the strength to carry on.”

Once again, don’t say this unless you really mean it. Don’t tell me you’ll pray for me unless you really will. And if you do commit to praying for me, do so with consistency and fervency. Bear the burden with the one who mourns.

Nothing.

Saying nothing speaks volumes. Just stay silently with me. Let me talk when I’m ready. You really don’t have much to say anyway.

When my wife died, I was blessed to have an amazing friend come and stay with me for several days – Cameron Craig. He travelled to Louisiana where we were at the time and came alongside me to help. For days he accompanied me as I took care of things. And he said very little other than, “I’m sorry.” But his presence communicated that he loved me and cared about me, and his involvement in my life from that day forward (and his wife’s too), showed that he really was there for me. He mirrored Christ’s faithfulness and compassion for me. His presence in my life permitted me to affirm, in spite of hardship, that God is good. God did care. Time did dull the ache, and when I met Nicole and married, I was honored to have Cameron stand as my best man.

I hope you can be an encouragement to those who suffer. My prayer is that each of you will be a ‘Cameron’ to others in need, having the wisdom to know what to say and what not to say.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,

the Father of mercies and God of all comfort,

who comforts us in all our tribulation,

that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble,

with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

2 Corinthians 1:3-4

-- Christian Pilet

Innerland Maintenance

“A good man out of the good treasure

of his heart brings forth good;

and an evil man out of the evil treasure

of his heart brings forth evil.” 

 Luke 6:45a

As a child, I loved exploring small spaces where adults couldn’t go – under beds, beneath tables, into narrow closets. That’s probably why I also have memories of being trapped in our laundry chute. But that’s another story.

During these mini-adventures, I noticed that the ‘underside’ of our family’s tables were rarely finished. The paint or the varnish covered only narrow strips along the undersides’ edges, and sometimes I found gluey slips of paper or scribbled notes in pencil indicating dates of construction or inspection. It was clear to me, even at that young age, that the ‘finish’ given to these tables was both cosmetic and targeted; cosmetic, in that it was deemed unnecessary on the flipside, and targeted, in that it only occurred where the consumer (the adults – the one’s coughing up the cash to buy the tables) would see it. Even then, I knew that adults wouldn’t leave those places unfinished if they were looking at them regularly.

There was a powerful lesson here for a three-year-old: focus on the externals. Make sure that what is seen looks good, and don’t waste your time on what remains unseen.

I thought about this yesterday as I was doing some painting at the church. I’ve been putting primer on the walls in the basement, and as I arrived at a section that would be largely ‘out-of-sight’ for adults, I wondered whether I should ‘waste’ primer on that small section. Was it important that this area appear as finished as the others? And then I remembered my experience as a three-year-old and I went ahead and primed it. I don’t want some three-year-old to get the wrong idea.

We face a similar challenge in our spiritual lives, don’t we? We all have a finished exterior – the actions and attitudes that others see. We work on that finish endlessly, moderating, exaggerating, or subjugating our visible quirks. We want to look good toward others.

But there is also an ‘underside’ to us all. It is our ‘innerland,’ an interior world that lies hidden within. Here, we think the thoughts no one else hears. And it is easy, too easy, to focus our attentions upon our exteriors and neglect our interiors.

The temptation to ignore one’s innerland arises from its perceived inscrutability. If we consider only the horizontal plane, the relationship between humans, we realize that our innerland stands firm against accusation or conviction. But this, of course, is a fleshly consideration that ignores the spiritual realities of Who God is and what He demands. When we widen our consideration to include the vertical plane, the relationship between humans and God, we realize that our innerland stands bare before the gaze of an All-knowing, Absolutely Holy God. And it can withstand neither His accusation nor conviction.

But I have overstated the nature of our innerland. Yes, we do have an innerland, and, yes, it does appear inscrutable, but that appearance is an illusion. It can remain neither hidden nor inner. Let me explain.

Jesus taught that the evils we see expressed in, through, and around us, are expressions of humanity’s innerland. He said it this way: “What comes out of a man, that defiles a man. For from within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lewdness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within and defile a man." He also taught, “A good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth good things, and an evil man out of the evil treasure brings forth evil things.” In other words, the thoughts of innerland do not remain unexpressed. Evil thoughts bring forth evil deeds. Good thoughts bring forth good deeds. The appearance of inscrutability, even from a human perspective, is an illusion.

Theologically speaking, it seems to me that any separation between humanity’s exterior and interior experience is a false dichotomy. The exterior ultimately gives expression to the interior. Men with evil thoughts will produce evil. Men with good thoughts will produce good.

Now when it comes to tables, I guess it doesn’t really matter whether the underside if finished. Most people won’t see the underside, and three-year-old aren’t the intended audience. But when it comes to our spiritual lives, we would be wise to remember that God Himself is the ultimate audience. It is He for whom we move and function, and since He is all-knowing and all-holy, we must attend to both the interior and the exterior.

But this little meditation raises one more question: how do we believers attend to our interior lives – our innerland? How can we work on ‘finishing’ it?

We do it by reading, studying, and obeying God’s Word – the Bible. As we do this in a systematic, ongoing way, God’s Holy Spirit works within us to change our old (non-believing) patterns of thinking and reprogram our thinking to mirror His. (Ps. 119:1-16; Ps. 119:105; Ps. 119:129-133; 2 Tim. 3:16-17)

Practically speaking, we attend to our innerland when we…

Set our minds on the things of God and not on the things of this world (Col. 3:12; Rom. 8:5-9);

Focus our minds on things that are good, pure, lovely, right, etc (Phil. 4:8);

Rely upon the Holy Spirit to illuminate and develop our minds (1 Cor. 2:10-15);

Allow the Word of Christ to dwell richly within us (Col. 3:16);

Take every thought captive to the obedience of Jesus Christ (2 Cor. 10:5; Col. 2:8);

Reject the thinking of the world and discontinue programming our minds with the world’s thinking (Acts 19:17-20; Eph. 2:2); and,

Spend great amounts of time in the Word of God learning His thoughts, ways and principles. (Eph. 4:20-24; Ps. 119:26-37)

May God bless you as you strive to maintain the ‘finish’ on your innerland!

“bringing every thought into captivity

to the obedience of Christ”

2 Cor. 10:5b

-- Christian Pilet

Anecdote of a Jar

“Genuine poetry can communicate

before it is understood.” 

 T. S. Eliot

It was not until college that I discovered the poetry of Wallace Steven and afterward I wondered why it took me so long to find him. Regardless, I learned of him and was hooked. Why? Because the ‘innerland’ he projects was mine, and, in his poems I saw reflections of my pre-salvation moral relativism. And I, like Stevens, had actually convinced myself that the chaos of relativism was preferable to order.

Recently I was talking with a young man who was struggling with an epistemological crisis. He had encountered the “evil scientist” argument or some version thereof, and he was deeply troubled. (You know the thinking. It goes something like this: Q: How do you know you weren’t created a few moments ago by an evil scientist who implanted memories in your head of a past? A: You can’t. Therefore, in a similar way, it is impossible for you to “know” anything.) The logical problem in this argument, of course, is that the implied requirement of ‘knowing’ is beyond the attainment of any mortal and ignores the realities of discerning between reasonable and unreasonable ‘knowings’. Regardless, the young man was struggling, and as I listened, I realized that he was afloat in a sea of moral relativism. Without belief in an absolute truth, he was being flung from ethical stance to ethical stance, teetering between hedonistic pragmatism and the despair of nihilism.

As I thought about our conversation, I was reminded of Stevens’ Anecdote of a Jar. It’s a short poem:

 I placed a jar in Tennessee,

And round it was, upon a hill.

It made the slovenly wilderness

Surround that hill.

The wilderness rose up to it,

And sprawled around, no longer wild.

The jar was round upon the ground

And tall and of a port in air.

It took dominion everywhere.

The jar was gray and bare.

It did not give of bird or bush,

Like nothing else in Tennessee.

Steven’s jar represents order brought into chaos from outside a present system. But ‘system’, in this case, is probably not the best word to use. For Stevens, nature is a wilderness, untamed and surprising. It is a not a system, but a non-system. And Stevens, using words such as ‘gray’ and ‘bare’, makes clear his disdain for the jar. The jar takes ‘dominion’ and crushes the life of the wilderness, ‘not giving’ either flora or fauna.

As a believer, I agree with Stevens and also, in some ways, disagree. I agree that the placement of an absolute from without can bring order. In that I agree. But I disagree with him if he is positing that an absolute placed must always crush life. I also disagree with him that an untamed wilderness is necessarily better than a tamed one.

For me, it boils down to the first word of the poem – “I”. Stevens said he is the one who placed the jar. Thus it does not surprise me that the order it brings is ultimately crushing and deadly. Man-made, man-placed absolutes are crushing. If Stevens places a man-made jar, and if he is the one who placed, I am not surprised it robbed the wilderness of spontaneity and life.

But, imagine, for a moment, that God was the One who placed the jar, not Stevens. Imagine that God Himself placed a Vessel in the midst of man’s spiritual wilderness, a Vessel that established an Absolute immoveable and sublime, One that gave Life as it gave Order. Would such a Vessel be detestable? No. It would be laudable, desirable – indeed, it would prove to be the Desire of all.

God the Father, of course, has done precisely this in the giving of His Son, Jesus, the Christ. And in that pivotal historic event – the Crucifixion, Burial, and Resurrection – He placed eternal order in humanity’s wilderness of relativism. He placed the Cross on Calvary and established order and life.

I know this has taken a philosophical turn today, but I believe it is important. The great apologetic reality, the one which defeats all moral relativism and epistemological uncertainty, is the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. That He lives, and that there is evidence sufficient to convince any sincere investigator beyond a reasonable doubt of that life, is the great historic reality that witnesses eternally to Him Who is the Great Epistemological Reality, the One upon whom we can build our lives. And He is a good and life-giving foundation that will never be shaken.

What do you think?

“and the rain descended, the floods came,

 and the winds blew and beat on that house;

and it did not fall, for it was founded on the rock”

Matthew 7:25

-- Christian Pilet

Water for Life

Jesus stood and cried out, saying,

"If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink.

He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said,

out of his heart will flow rivers of living water."

John 7:37-38

Have you seen the movie 127 Hours? It is a film based on the true-life experiences of Aron Raston, a canyoneer who was trapped in an isolated canyon in southeastern Utah. With his arm pinned by a giant boulder, he suffered for days with ravenous thirst, a fact vividly portrayed in the movie.

Raston’s story was well-known before the making of the film. I myself had read the news accounts of his rescue when it occurred, and as I had a general sense of the story, I could appreciate the irony of one of the film’s opening shots. It shows Raston dashing about his house packing supplies for the day-long hike. He grabs a clear plastic water bottle and places it in his kitchen sink under a stream of running water and then leaves it to fill as he goes into the other room. The camera focuses in on the water filling and then overflowing the bottle. Finally, Raston returns to the sink, turns off the water and grabs the bottle. That image comes back to haunt the viewer later as he later watches Raston strain for a final drip of water from that bottle. How, we wonder, could we be so indifferent to the precious gift of water?

Water. It is absolutely essential for life. Without adequate water, we die.

But not everyone has access to potable water. Did you know?

• Over 1.5 billion people do not have access to clean, safe water.
• Almost 4 million people die each year from water related diseases.
• Women in Africa and Asia, on average, have to walk 3.7 miles to collect water.
• At any one time, more than half the world’s poor are ill due to inadequate sanitation, water or hygiene.
• 80% of all illness in the developing world comes from water born diseases.

Yes, water and the lack of it is a real issue in the world and a matter of vital concern for us humans.

This is nothing new, of course. It was the same in the days of Jesus’ earthly ministry. People needed water to survive, and they needed clean, useable water.

Jesus used that need to communicate the unique nature of the gift that He offered, the baptism of the Holy Spirit. He cried out, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink. He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.” And this water, the same water of which He had spoken to the Samaritan woman, He observed, would provide everlasting relief from thirst, “Whoever drinks of the water I shall give Him will never thirst.” In other words, humanity’s craving and desperate need – continuing fellowship with Almighty God – were met in the Person of Jesus Christ. All who craved that fellowship were welcome, and whoever came and drank would be eternally satisfied through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit.

And there’s more than that. Jesus also said that, for those who came and drank, that water would become a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life. In other words, an abundance of God’s Spirit would pour from that person and others would be able, through that abundance, to taste and see that God is Good, and, ultimately, satisfy their own eternal cravings through Jesus Christ the Lord.

But you know all this.

What I want to ponder with you for a moment is this: in the simple act of giving away clean physical water, Christians have an opportunity to proclaim the truth of God’s gift of life in Christ Jesus.

This can be done in a myriad of ways. It can be done on a global scale. Recently I became aware of “the water project”, an international non-profit organization that seeks to address the worldwide need for potable water. This organization labors to provide clean water to villages around the world as a way of “relieving suffering, stimulate economic development, and introducing a true and lasting hope.” And the folks working with that group do it as an expression of their faith in Christ. As they write on their webpage (www.thewaterproject.org): “We're Christ-followers and we believe that Jesus has made an unambiguous call to ‘provide a cup of cold water’ and to answer the needs of those who say ‘I am thirsty’ (Matt 25).” They add, “The reason we do this work is because we are Christians. We believe that important distinction allows us to work with people of all backgrounds and faiths for the benefit of all people. Our projects do not discriminate on the basis of race, creed, ethnic or religious backgrounds. We serve others. These essential, life-sustaining water projects speak to what loving one's neighbor truly means. We exist to see the world changed through this love. It is a simple message of hope in an increasingly desperate and hostile world.” And that’s cool.

And it can be done on a local scale. Tomorrow evening, Geneva is hosting its annual “Cruisin’ Night Block Party” from 5 to 10 PM, and we (the folks from Living Hope) will be manning a table on the sidewalk in front of Area Records. From that table, we will be handing out free bottles of clean, fresh water. And on those bottles will be a label with these simple words, “Whoever drinks of this water will thirst again, but whoever drinks of the water that I (Jesus) shall give Him will never thirst.” What a great opportunity to remind the folks around us that God not only wants to meet their physical needs, He wants to meet their spiritual needs. Each time we offer a bottle of water with that label, we proclaim God’s gift of eternal life in Christ Jesus.

Yep, we can be a part of meeting our world’s needs, both the physical needs and the spiritual needs. We can get involved in global action with groups like The Water Project, and we can get involved in local action, by participating in things like Living Hope’s “Cruising Night Outreach.” Specifically, you can do two things to help with Living Hope’s outreach tomorrow night: First, we need donations of bottled water. You can drop them off at the church anytime today (someone will be at the church until 9 PM) or tomorrow (from 9 AM on). Second, you can come out and join the fun at the Block Party. Stop by the table, spend some time helping out, and then walk the streets and enjoy all the other activities. Join us!

Jesus answered and said to her,

"Whoever drinks of this water will thirst again,

but whoever drinks of the water

that I shall give him will never thirst.

But the water that I shall give him

will become in him a fountain of water

springing up into everlasting life."

John 4:13-14

- Christian Pilet

Sketchy for the Savior

"Love bears all things, believes all things,

hopes all things, endures all things.”

1 Corinthians 13:7

This Friday is Valentine’s Day, and I thought it would be appropriate here to share a quick story of love (or infatuation):

It all started with a friend’s offhand comment at our mission agency’s 1998 “Missionary Enrichment” conference in Pennsylvania. “Did you know,” she asked, “that a single girl was appointed as a missionary to Mongolia?”

I shook my head. First, I hadn’t known, and, second, I had my reservations concerning what sort of girl would go to Mongolia as a single missionary. I think my exact thoughts were, “Wow, she must just have given up hopes of marrying,” followed by the admittedly fleshly, “Hmm, she must not be very good looking.” I mean, well, I’d seen women who lived on the steppes. Those arctic climes are tough on the face.

But then my friend said, “Hold on, I have a biographical summary about her…” She started digging through some papers. “…and I think there’s a picture...”

She found what she was looking for and turned and handed me a sheet of paper. At the top was the picture of a pretty young lady with the words “Nicole Grizenko” printed in bold type below. There was also a paragraph summarizing her education and likes and dislikes. I read the paragraph, looked back up at the picture, and then thought something like, “Woo-hoo. Thank you, God!” I was sure He had sent her my way.

But that didn’t mean she knew He had sent her my way. So I started scheming: I would find and use every possible excuse to talk to her, and I would position myself in her path during the next days and weeks. It worked out something like this:

First, I called her (that very afternoon). I mentioned that I had heard she had been appointed to the field of Mongolia, and that, as a fellow-missionary to Mongolia, I thought it would be good for us to meet and talk about the field. Perhaps, I suggested, she was available that evening for dinner. And she agreed.

I picked her up for dinner and discovered she was bringing her roommate. (Very appropriate and all, but I’ll bet that roommate felt like a third-wheel.) Regardless, we talked, and I managed to steer the conversation into personal matters, even ‘happening’ to mention that I’d been to India and admired the way marriages (at times) could be arranged quickly. Subtle.

Second, the next day, I happened to ‘bump’ into her and her parents as they ate in the college cafeteria where the conference was being held. “Oh” – I feigned surprise – “it’s you. And these are your parents? Why, hello!” Of course, I had been watching for them, but I tried to make it look like a happenstance meeting. “Why, sure, yeah, I’d love to sit and… talk about Mongolia.”

Third, that evening, at her commissioning service, I ‘realized’ I should find her and get her phone number in North Carolina, just so we could keep talking about ‘field’ issues. And so I did. (I knew she was scheduled to leave the conference the next morning.)

Fourth, the next night, I called her in North Carolina because I ‘remembered’ that I had some Mongolian souvenirs that she might find useful as she prepared to visit churches and start raising support. (That call lasted a couple of hours.)

Fifth, the following evening, I called her again because I had ‘forgotten’ a few important things. (Another several hour phone call.)

And, sixth, the following evening, I called her again and couldn’t come up with an excuse. So I just got down to the heart of the matter and asked her if she’d be interested in getting married. Aww. Not so subtle, but effective.

Isn’t that a nice story? I should add that she said she’d marry me if her parents agreed. I called them that weekend and they gave me their blessing. (Go figure.) And we were officially engaged a couple weeks later when I put a ring on her finger. We married in 1999 and just celebrated 15 years of wedded bliss. (Do you feel nauseous yet?)

Yep, that’s our story. But I had a reason for telling it, other than just being sappy.

Last Sunday, I was talking with a bunch of guys about evangelism, and we were discussing the idea of being “contagious” witnesses. We talked about our friendships and considered the opportunities our current social networks give us for presenting the Gospel. Many of us admitted that we didn’t have many friends who were non-believers. And, even those of us who did have non-believing friends, were forced to admit that our relationships with them have often not been particularly redemptive (meaning Gospel-centered). So I challenged them, and myself, to be intentional and strategic in developing redemptive relationships with non-believers.

We talked about this concept, and as we got down to practicalities, I found myself saying things like, “Well, see if you can maneuver yourself to arrive in the lunch line at the same time as that non-believer,” and “perhaps you could just ‘happen’ to show up at the place where he exercises or works,” and “maybe you could find out what sports he likes and start participating in them.”

It didn’t take long until someone made the obvious comment: “That sounds a bit sketchy.”

Sketchy? Well, yeah, I guess it could. It does seem a bit ‘stalker-ish,’ doesn’t it? And I had to pause and think about that for a moment.

Then the obvious hit me. There wasn’t a guy there who wasn’t willing to act a bit ‘stalkerish’ to win the girl of his dreams. We would all be willing to venture out of our comfort zone, position ourselves near her, and find (or create) opportunities to talk with her. Just like I did with Nicole. That’s what guys have done since the beginning of time. They’ve pursued.

Sure, pursuit of a girl can get sketchy. When the girl rejects the guy (“As I’ve told you ever so many times, I like you, but I don’t like you like you.”), he needs to accept reality and move on. If he keeps pestering her, or papers his room with her picture and continues sending her unwanted letters and poems, then he’s over the top. Lighten up, dude, it’s weird. But between the poles of indifference and sketchiness lies appropriate pursuit.

Today I want to suggest to you that we need to embrace pursuit as an ongoing part of our Christian lives. The pursuit of the unsaved is the commission our Lord gave us when He said, “Make disciples!” and it is non-negotiable. We are to be fishers-of-men.

I fear that we Christians are sometimes so afraid of appearing ‘sketchy’ in the eyes of the world that we assume an outward appearance of indifference toward the nonbeliever and his fate. We stand aloof and pray for the person without taking the risk of initiating contact and presenting Christ. We act like an infatuated boy who longs for a girl but is never courageous enough to express his love, whose fear of rejection prevents him from boldly pursuing his greatest desire, permitting the girl to pass by without ever knowing his interest. Now, if the boy never wins the girl of his dreams because he was scared, that’s sad. But if a Christian never testifies to his neighbor concerning the Risen Lord, that’s tragic!

We Christians must risk rejection and express our love for our non-believing neighbors. We must risk appearing ‘sketchy’ and ‘stalkerish’ in our pursuit of the lost. And as we do, we have the promise of God’s Word that there are some who will respond. We will not only encounter rejection. We will find those He’s called. And there will be great joy as we witness others come to know and love the Lord. That joy will be as great as the joy I experienced when I realized, ultimately, Nicole returned my affections. And, maybe, no, probably, it will be even greater.

Let’s pursue the unsaved!

“I have become all things to all men,

that I might by all means save some.”

1 Corinthians 9:22b

                                                              -- Christian Pilet

Movies, Martinis, and Musical Moves

“As obedient children, not conforming yourselves

to the former lusts, as in your ignorance;

but as He who called you is holy,

you also be holy in all your conduct.”

1 Peter 1:14-15

The gaunt old man pulled a squeezebox from its case and stepped to the pulpit. He looked into the distance, as if remembering a special day sixty years earlier, and paused. A few snickers sounded toward the back of the auditorium. And then he pulled the bellows apart and began to croon his way through a fifth-rate poem set to sixth-rate music, the hymn he himself had written, a hymn we ourselves had never sung.

The year was 1987, and the speaker was a visitor at Cedarville College. His appearance as a chapel speaker that day was a ‘one-off’, a one-chapel presentation by a guest; and none of the students, myself included, had ever heard of him. We didn’t expect much.

I tried to follow the message, but it seemed irrelevant. He talked about life ‘back then,’ read a few verses, and told the back-story of the hymn he had written. To hear him tell the story, that hymn had been a real bestseller. This seemed a little farfetched, as I had heard better jingoes for breakfast cereals. And I faded out and started to review my Greek vocabulary cards.

Then he said something that caught my attention and hit me like the proverbial two-by-four between the eyes. It proved to be one of the most memorable things I ever heard at Cedarville. Here’s what he said:

“When I was boy, my mother and father refused to give me a dime to go to the movies. They knew about the lifestyles of the people who made those movies, of the writers, the directors, and the actors. They knew what those people believed. And they refused to permit me or my siblings to give one solitary dime to support those folks and their lifestyles. And the other believers refused to let their kids go either.

“Nowadays, you’all are watching movies on VCRs and TV. Some of you even go to movie theaters. But, what I want to say is this: those folks haven’t changed, you have!”

This statement hit me hard, because the watching of movies by Cedarville College students was a widely discussed topic (at least among the student body). The rule of the college, one of the rules students agreed to when enrolling, was that attendance at movie theaters was forbidden. This was a throwback to earlier days, when fundamentalists believed that attending cinemas was immoral, and it had been a longstanding rule. What had precipitated increasing debate was the rise of VCRs. With the introduction of VCRs, it was possible now for a person to rent and watch a movie in the privacy of one’s home. This raised the obvious complications of a rule that forbid watching a movie in one location but not another. Was the movie itself the problem? Or was it attendance in a public venue to view the movie? Or was it a combination of the two?

The students, at least the more vocal students, were lobbying for the abandonment of the rule. Students should be free to attend movies in cinemas, they argued. The only standard that should be demanded is that they exercise personal spiritual discernment and avoid questionable content.

Fast forward to today. Students at Cedarville are now free to attend cinemas. The issue of attendance at movie theaters is history, and new issues have arisen, issues such as social drinking and dancing.

Let’s consider those two issues for a moment. During the last century, most Baptist fundamentalists – more often called evangelicals now – were opposed to social drinking and dancing. We acknowledged the evils that accompanied social drinking and decided to separate ourselves corporately and publicly from the practice. We did the same with dancing. In recent years, however, many of us, including the folks at Cedarville University, have been reconsidering.

That’s a good thing, right? After all, we all know that the evils related to alcohol consumption are less now than they used to be, right? Alcohol-related incidents of domestic abuse and vehicular homicide are fewer, right? And we know that dancing today is more modest and God-pleasing than it was in the days of Elvis, right?

No. That’s ludicrous, of course. (And sorry about the sarcasm.) We all know that alcohol is no less of a problem than it was fifty years ago, and dancing is no more modest today than it was years ago. In fact, if you consider modern day ‘dancing,’ I would suggest that what is considered ‘family-friendly’ and acceptable during prime-time television would have been considered porn fifty years ago. Case in point? Beyonce’s performance at this year’s Super Bowl’s ‘family-friendly’ halftime show.

So what has changed? Have the standards of God’s Word changed? Are we finally unshackling ourselves from our puritanical, legalistic roots? Or are we falling into licentiousness?

I would suggest it is the latter. Those who lobby for less restrictive standards often put their arguments in the context of grace, but, in doing so, fail to recognize and affirm that the call of grace is greater than the call of law. Law asks what the least is one must do. Grace asks what is the most one can do.

The issue here, ultimately, is the standards that should accompany salvation, not the requirements to attain it. The standards to which we hold ourselves as believers should reflect the highest standards of God’s Word. Discussions of those standards should not degenerate into arguments over whether a particular is so worldly that it should be abandoned. The question raised should be: Is this behavior pleasing to Holy God? Not, Is ‘okay’ with us doing this behavior.

Incidentally, have you noticed that things usually deteriorate rather than get better? Perhaps it is the same with colleges, mission agencies, and local churches. Apart from the grace of God and the determination to live separated lives by the power of the Holy Spirit, we can do no better. We will fall into spiritual and moral laxity.

But, praise God, we need not fall! God has given us His Spirit in full, to convict us of our sins, to call us to repentance, and to conform us to the image of His Son. In His strength, we can realize higher standards, cognitively and practically. We can glorify Him with holiness, if we will listen to and heed His Spirit. Will we?

-Christian Pilet

A Slice of Pie

“There’s a land that is fairer than day,

And by faith we can see it afar,

For the Father waits over the way

To prepare us a dwelling place there.

In the sweet by and by

We shall meet on that beautiful shore;

In the sweet by and by,

We shall meet on that beautiful shore.”

The hymn “The Sweet By-and-By” was published in 1868 and quickly became a Gospel favorite. Louis Armstrong, Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton, Willie Nelson and Loretta Lynn have all recorded versions of it; Charles Ives used it in sections of several orchestral works; and several movies have featured it, including, most recently, Django Unchained. But why has it become so popular? Is it the words, the tune, or the combination of the two?

It’s probably the latter, but I suspect its popularity arises primarily from the Christian optimism it expresses, that a future home exists to which believers shall one day retire, a place in which the voices of the redeemed will mingle in praise of the One Who has secured and prepared that eternal rest, a place where “We shall sing on that beautiful shore the melodious songs of the blest, And our spirits shall sorrow no more Not a sigh for the blessing of rest.”

The hymn has not always been well received. Any song played over and over grows odious, and this one was no exception. As its strains filled the parlors and churches of America, Mark Twain paid it a dubious homage by including this spurious account of its origin in A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court:

In a gallery a band with cymbals, horns, harps, and other horrors, opened the proceedings with what seemed to be the crude first-draft or original agony of the wail known to later centuries as "In the Sweet Bye and Bye." It was new, and ought to have been rehearsed a little more. For some reason or other the queen had the composer hanged, after dinner.

On the basis of that narrative, we can guess that Twain’s objection was to the melody, as only the composer was hanged, not the lyricist. Other critics have not been so charitable.

One of those critics was Joe Hill, a member of the Industrial Workers of the World, the anarchist-syndicalist labor organization (a group known as the “Wobblies”). In 1911, he wrote a parody the hymn in which he lambasted the Salvation Army for offering salvation to the homeless, but not enough food. It went like this:

Long-haired preachers come out every night,
Try to tell you what's wrong and what's right;
But when asked how 'bout something to eat
They will answer with voices so sweet:
You will eat, bye and bye,
In that glorious land above the sky;
Work and pray, live on hay,
You'll get pie in the sky when you die.

This parody gave rise to the expression “pie in the sky in the great bye and bye.”

The first time I heard that expression. I was sitting in a U.S. history class. The class took place after lunch in an overheated room without windows, the teacher was a bit of a droner, and his lecture series was entitled something like “Pre-Civil War Circumstances in the Southern States,” so I was having trouble staying awake. But I did catch an offhand comment he made about the slaves. He said they found, in Christianity, a panacea that enabled them to endure the hopelessness of their bondage. He said Christianity gave them “pie in the sky in the great bye and bye,” and I think he added “opiate of the people” under his breath. It was not a flattering description.

So, wow, two very different understandings of Christianity. But which is it? Panacea or promise?

The answer to that question is found in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. If the resurrection of Jesus Christ really occurred, then His claims were substantiated and He really was the Savior of the world. If He is risen, then Christianity proclaims the Promise, the Hope, of humanity. But if the resurrection did not really occur, then Christianity is a man-made religion and offers no hope beyond the grave. If Jesus died as all other men die, then Christianity is nothing more than a lie and a panacea.

Thus, to determine if Christianity is panacea or promise, one must answer this question: Is Jesus risen from the dead?

Fortunately, that question can be answered beyond a reasonable doubt. The answer is, “Yes, He is Risen.” The Resurrection of Jesus Christ is a historical fact demonstrable through the accounts of eyewitnesses, written records (both Christian and non-Christian), external evidences, and its historical impact. Don’t believe me? Study the evidences for yourself. Need to know where to find them? Just give me a call or jot me a note, and I’ll point you in the right directions.

I am not a Christian because it serves me well; I am a Christian because Christianity is true. Yes, it serves me well, but it serves me well because it is true.

Why are you a Christian?

“If in this life only we have hope in Christ,

we are of all men the most pitiable.

But now Christ is risen from the dead,

and has become the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.”

1 Corinthians 15:19-20