Kids these days: An Advent meditation

"About that time Caesar Augustus ordered a census to be taken throughout the Empire. This was the first census when Quirinius was governor of Syria. Everyone had to travel to his own ancestral hometown to be accounted for. So Joseph went from the Galilean town of Nazareth up to Bethlehem in Judah, David’s town, for the census. As a descendant of David, he had to go there. He went with Mary, his fiancée, who was pregnant."

"While they were there, the time came for her to give birth. She gave birth to a son, her firstborn. She wrapped him in a blanket and laid him in a manger, because there was no room in the hostel."

(Luke 2:1-7, The Message)

What do you think of teenagers these days? To you are they overfed, under-worked, and otherwise a fairly self-absorbed lot? At times, I think the same thing. But I just think that means I'm getting older for from time to time I catch myself muttering about kids these days with their phones, their ear-buds and their snap-chatting. 

And then as I re-read the story of Jesus' birth I'm reminded that it was through teenagers that God inaugurated a new age for Planet Earth. Of course, nobody really knows how old Mary and Joseph were when Jesus was born. The Gospel writers Matthew and Luke who were the only ones to write about Jesus' Nativity didn't think that was relevant to the story so we're left to grasp at possibilities.

We live in a wonderful time for women in particular. Never before

Currently running for President

has the door been so wide open for a woman's career aspirations. Do  you aspire to be a scientist? an astronaut? a professional athlete? The sky seems to be the limit. Currently there is a female former Air Force pilot running for President - and certainly one day in our time our chief executive at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue will be a woman.

But not in Mary's day. In those times once a young girl began her monthly cycle it was time for her to settle down, get married and start raising a family. Life expectancy was a lot less in those days and it was important to get down to business and keep the family name alive. So, depending on who you read, Mary might have been 13 or 14 years old when the Holy Spirit came on her to conceive Messiah. Among our fellowship's ranks are a set of triplets who are currently in the 7th grade and 14 years old. That the idea of one of them being a bride and with child is downright creepy reminds us how far we've come in two millenia.

Mary could have looked young like this

Joseph, on the other hand, could have been as old as 30 (he was, after all, already established in his trade) but I just read a commentary the other day who speculated that he may, in fact, have been as young as 18 years old. In Joseph's day, there was none of this thought of allowing a lad "to sow his wild oats" before he settled down. After all, as the Torah so eloquently puts it, "It's not good for a man to be alone" (see Genesis 2). Better to get a young man married early to channel his normal desires in a healthy way.

Granted there were a lot of things different back then. A 14-year old young woman and an 18-year-old young man back then were, by comparison to kids today, most likely way more mature. But as I reflect on God's great undertaking to save the human race the fact that he chose two young, godly and yet inexperienced kids to steward his son until he was of age is, to me, remarkable.

When I think of most Nativity sets I've seen, our own included,

This is how we're used to seeing them

Joseph always looks so old and wise with a full beard and Mary so very maternal as if she's an old hand of bringing kids into the world. But what if they were, in actuality, kids in their teen years? What did they know about parenting? It's weighty enough to bring a child into the world but to bear Messiah, the hope of their nation, and then raise him as a son of the Covenant? That's a tall order for any couple let alone a newly married young one? 

Just think the stories that might have been murmured behind closed doors in Nazareth about how quickly the two finalized their wedding plans before heading south on account of the Census. But as far as we know they bore this all in dignified silence knowing they were part of something way bigger themselves.

Earth's mightiest heroes in the MCU

But it's just like God, isn't it?  As much as I enjoy all the Marvel Cinematic Universe movies of Avengers saving the planet from aliens and a demi-god with a serious ego problem by comparison God's way seems so frail, so flimsy, so weak. Ask a young couple to shoulder the burden of parenthood and then send them out on their own heading south to register for the Roman census while Mary was nearly at term. Yeah, he chose as he always seems to choose - "the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are" (1 Corinthians 1:27-28, NIV).

For the record the fact is I know a LOT of good teens who are well on their way to becoming fine men and women and participants in God's salvation story that He is still writing. Thank God for them - and kids like Mary and Joseph who were willing to "step off the map" as it were and take God at his word when He called on them to do so. They played a key role in the saving of the human race.

These heroes were the real deal

Keeping watch: Reflections from an evening's intercession

We have this monthly practice at Refuge that I call “Wait & See”. On the first or second Sunday evening of the month those who can gather in the sanctuary to wait upon the Lord. The first half hour or so we find a quiet place in the sanctuary to read the Scriptures or still ourselves while either sitting or kneeling. We're encouraged to pay attention to Scripture or thoughts that come to mind while we wait. The second half hour, then, we circle up and share what Scripture or impressions we experienced and then see if we can discern a common thread or “word” that the Holy Spirit is bringing to mind in helping us to pray. Admittedly, it's more art than science but it seems more often than not to work for us. This is a reflection based on December 2019's gathering.

“And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

“Glory to God in the highest heaven,
    and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.” Luke 2:8-18, NIV

While kneeling at the altar and trying to still my scattered thoughts a seasonal verse comes to mind: “And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night”. Just what did it mean to 'keep watch' over the flock? My assumption is they were staying awake and alert to ensure their sheep remained safe from predators that may slink into the herd unawares or that none of them wandered off from the flock of their own accord. The night the angel showed up was, as we say today, “just another day at the office.” It was an otherwise normal night suddenly and terrifyingly interrupted by a messenger of heaven announcing the dawn of a brand new age. Have shepherds in those days or really in any day ever commanded the respect of their contemporaries? Bottom-dwellers the lot of them living on the outskirts of society caring for critters that are renowned for their skittishness and stupidity. But at the moment that the angel stands before them and announces the birth of Messiah in nearby Bethlehem they find much to their surprise that they are on the proverbial 50-yard-line of God's new thing he is beginning in the little town just over yonder ways.

In response to this heavenly visitation they head into town to get a look-see themselves and discover that, just as the angel had said, here was a young couple holed up in a shallow cave and their brand new baby boy lying where livestock would normally find their feed. I like how The Message translates that moment: “Seeing was believing” (v. 18). They saw it and then whooped it up and told everyone they met just what they had heard and later seen with their own eyes: at long last the days of Messiah had begun.

First witnesses of Messiah

The handful of us gathered in the sanctuary tonight have not come seeking an angelic visitation. We're just here to seek God's face and wait upon Him. And if he should speak to us then it will be our job to let others in on what he has said allowing them to judge themselves whether or not it's a 'word' from God – or not.

In a way, we too are keeping watch over the flock (there are never many of us at these gatherings but those who do come are usually the elders of our fellowship). We are “guarding the flock”, “overseeing them” for their own welfare, on guard against predators and against their knack to wander off and drift apart. While kneeling and thinking about these things a few more verses come to mind:

Acts 20:25-31

Paul, on his way to his “rendezvous with destiny” in Jerusalem, meets once more with the leaders of the Church of Ephesus:

Paul says farewell

“Now I know that none of you among whom I have gone about preaching the kingdom will ever see me again. Therefore, I declare to you today that I am innocent of the blood of any of you. For I have not hesitated to proclaim to you the whole will of God. Keep watch over yourselves and all the flock of which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers. Be shepherds of the church of God, which he bought with his own blood. I know that after I leave, savage wolves will come in among you and will not spare the flock. Even from your own number men will arise and distort the truth in order to draw away disciples after them. So be on your guard! Remember that for three years I never stopped warning each of you night and day with tears. (NIV)

Peterson translates 28-31 in this way:

“Now it’s up to you. Be on your toes—both for yourselves and your congregation of sheep. The Holy Spirit has put you in charge of these people—God’s people they are—to guard and protect them. God himself thought they were worth dying for.” (Msg)

“I know that as soon as I’m gone, vicious wolves are going to show up and rip into this flock, men from your very own ranks twisting words so as to seduce disciples into following them instead of Jesus. So stay awake and keep up your guard.”

So the need for vigilance in the exercise of pastoral oversight is necessary not because we want to control people but exercise good spiritual care for them.

1 Peter 5:1-3

“I have a special concern for you church leaders. I know what it’s like to be a leader, in on Christ’s sufferings as well as the coming glory. Here’s my concern: that you care for God’s flock with all the diligence of a shepherd. Not because you have to, but because you want to please God. Not calculating what you can get out of it, but acting spontaneously. Not bossily telling others what to do, but tenderly showing them the way. (Msg)

There is something real to this shepherding-thing which requires diligence on the part of pastors and elders whom God has placed in places of authority.

So this night, kneeling at the altar waiting upon the Lord I, too, am playing the role of a shepherd keeping guard and praying God's protection upon the flock of God who gather at 724 Leonard Street. These people, with all their virtues as well as their flaws, “God himself thought they were dying for.”

As I kneel there different faces come to mind of individuals who while once part of the “festive throng” of our regular gatherings (Psalm 42:4) have now become inactive on account of being overwhelmed by life. While no longer “here” nor seemingly able to contribute in any meaningful way to the fellowship they are still part of us and require my encouragement and prayers for the protection of their souls. I sincerely believe that just like the earth is made up of huge tectonic planes slowly moving infinitesimally across the globe so our souls do the same. Why else would the writer of Hebrews warn: “We must pay the most careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away” (Hebrews 2:1, NIV)?

Nothing is static. Everything is in movement.

So, we guard. We watch. We wait. We pray. We intercede. We visit. We encourage hoping to strengthen those who have become weary in well-doing.

Sharing notes

Later as we gather in the “couch corner” of the sanctuary to share our thoughts and impressions, Duane shares of old Zechariah, while burning the incense in the holy place in the Temple, Gabriel appears before him and announces: “Your prayer has been heard” (Luke 1:12ff). How many years had he prayed that prayer? After all he was an old man and his wife, Elizabeth, was way past her prime.

Don't doubt God's messenger

When was the last time he had prayed that prayer? He questions the veracity of Gabriel's announcement and, of course, for his trouble is struck mute and has to watch the wonders of his elderly wife's growing abdomen until the day she gives birth to their son. What Duane feels that we need to hear is that God hears our prayers and while not everyone is answered in a timely way – if at all – it's important to remind ourselves that this regular gathering together is not just a waste of time. God is watching, listening and nearer than we suppose. And should he decide to send a messenger to inform us that our prayers for our fellowship are heard we best not ask too many questions.

Randy is the only real shepherd in our bunch. He owns and cares

for a small flock of them on his and Renee's hobby farm. He laughs as he thinks about his flock and how after a recent snowstorm a large pile of snow had dropped from a tree near the feed trough. This mass of frozen water crystals set them all on edge and they refused to approach the trough hungry though they were. Randy had to get out there and move the snow pile or they would have starved themselves for fear of the big white mass that stood in their way. Good thing they had a shepherd who was “keeping watch” over them.

Lois shared how she found herself reflecting on the prayer of Ezra. Ezra is the scholar and priest sent to re-establish the regular routines of Temple worship and life in Jerusalem following seventy years of exile. He's a bit of a crank and exercises a firm hand but to be fair a firm hand was needed. The people were back in the land but already were engaging in spiritual compromise, intermarrying with folk who were not God-fearers or followers. Did they learn nothing from exile? In chapter 9 he prays:

“And now this, on top of all we’ve already suffered because of our evil ways and accumulated guilt, even though you, dear God, punished us far less than we deserved and even went ahead and gave us this present escape. Yet here we are, at it again, breaking your commandments by intermarrying with the people who practice all these obscenities! Are you angry to the point of wiping us out completely, without even a few stragglers, with no way out at all? You are the righteous God of Israel. We are, right now, a small band of escapees. Look at us, openly standing here, guilty before you. No one can last long like this.” (Ezra 9:13-15, Msg)

Let's admit it: there's plenty to be riled up about today

Lois is a grandmother and an elder in our fellowship. She is a very loving person but she struggles with what she sees as the Church – big “C” - seems to more and more reflect our culture (increasingly pagan by the year) rather than the other way round. “No one can last long like this”. Or, we will last but we will cease to represent Him.

So these became our prayer points for the evening, our intercession for the flock of God here at this fellowship prone to wander because of busy-ness and inattention, for those we know and love who are doing just what the writer of Hebrews warned them not to do – fall out of the habit of meeting together (see Heb 10:25) – and for Christians of the Church of Jesus in our area that we repent and align ourselves with His rule and standard as opposed to whatever messages we are receiving from our culture of what is “right” and “normal.”

Before the end of our gathering we didn't receive an angelic messenger to assure us that “our prayer has been heard.” I guess we didn't need that because the things we prayed for and about lined up with what God has clearly spoken in his Word. We trust that he did hear us and that somehow our gathering together and intercession mattered for these people that he thought were worth dying for.

Mary's Choice: An Advent Reflection

Every year in the Chetek Alert's annual 'Tis the Season publication, local pastors are asked to contribute reflections. This is my contribution for 2019 (which you may read free of charge here).

“In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

“Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”

Luke 1:26-33, NIV

At a recent gathering at Refuge after reading the preceding text as a way of provoking meditation I asked the following question: “Did Mary have a choice?” That is, when Gabriel announced to her that she has been chosen to bear Messiah could she have declined the favor? What followed was a long reflection on the mystery of free will and God's sovereignty. On one hand, she was not simply a biological incubator pre-programmed to bear the Christ Child for nine months. She was a human being born with the gift all men and women are graced with, the power to choose. But God, who knows each of us inside out, knew that Mary was so humble and devout of heart that she would ultimately submit to his invitation. Still it's clear from the rest of the story that Gabriel awaited her response to his incredible announcement before reporting back to headquarters (or why else does she get to have the last word in their conversation?)

Jewish girls in Mary's day and age didn't dream of growing up and becoming scientists or business owners. They lived, really, for one purpose: to marry and bring children into the world. That we live in a time when a woman can and do serve as professors, scientists, corporate CEOs, US representatives, senators and, one day certainly, president we call progress. But for Mary only one path lay ahead of her and while she and Joseph had yet to make a home together legally they had already tied the knot. All that was left was the wedding.

So what Gabriel was asking her to do was, in effect, lay aside her dream for herself and submit to God's dream for her, one that beyond her wildest comprehension would ultimately lead to the salvation of mankind. But before that there would be crosses of her own to bear. For starters, she was a virtuous maiden living in conservative Nazareth. Today we may take it as a matter of course that couples cohabit and procreate prior to marriage – if they ever marry at all. But not then. For a girl to be found in the family way would invite public shame and outcry and, in some cases, death for bringing such reproach on her family and her village. And we know from Matthew's version of the story the threat was real: why else would Gabriel speak to Joseph in a dream to not divorce her?

The way Luke tells it the optics couldn't be worse: Gabriel announces the honor being bestowed on her and immediately she leaves town to spend a few months with her relatives, Elizabeth and Zechariah who remarkably in their old age are also pregnant. Upon her return to Nazareth she would have already had a baby bump. Imagine what her parents must have felt when she informed them that God had given her a baby. So, apart from her husband and her relatives downstate, Mary would be in this pregnancy pretty much alone without the normal support of family and close friends.

Of course, public shame is bad enough – especially when it's undeserved – but on the day they dedicate their new born son old man Simeon emerges out of a throng of worshipers in Jerusalem and warns her that her boy would be both misunderstood and controversial, causing the falling and rising of many, many people and, oh yeah, “...a sword will pierce your own soul, too” (Luke 2:33-35). It's a lot for a young teen age girl to bear (in those days, once a girl began her monthly cycle it was time to settle down and begin “adulting”, as kids are wont to call it today).

In J.R.R.Tolkien's classic trilogy The Lord of the Rings, while journeying to Mount Doom to save Middle Earth from the reign of the Dark Lord Sauron, Frodo's constant companion, Sam, reflects upon the grand quest they are on and how unlikely a pair they are to be playing a part in it:

The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures,

as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of sport, as you might say. But that's not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually – their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn't. And if they had, we shouldn't know, because they'd have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on – and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end...But those aren't always the best tales to hear, though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of a tale we've fallen into?'”(from The Two Towers)

As I read Mary's story again safely separated from her time by two thousand years of hindsight it's easy for me to quickly gloss over the scandal, the shame, the risk, and the confusion that was her's to bear by submitting to the invitation presented to her that morning by Gabriel. We, of course, know how the story ends and just what kind of epic tale Mary and Joseph had fallen into, as Sam would put it. I suppose had she said no, it's likely we would have never heard of her but would celebrate and, in certain traditions, venerate another young woman's choice to bear the Son of God. As we read her response to Gabriel that day it's necessary to acknowledge that we may lack the proper awe and respect owed her when her reply was simple and forever succinct: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.” (Luke 1:38, KJV). It is the same surrender and submission that God requires of each of us to choose each day regardless of the kind of tale we may find ourselves in.

Snow day on Sunday

“Let’s see how inventive we can be in encouraging love and helping out, not avoiding worshiping together as some do but spurring each other on, especially as we see the big Day approaching.” Hebrews 10:24-25, The Message

“The nice thing about life is you never know when there’s going to be a party.” The Homecoming by Earl Hamner, Jr

This past Saturday night a winter storm descended upon the upper Midwest determined to cover us all under a heavy blanket of snow. It happens up here from time to time beyond the 45^th Parallel requiring church council presidents and other designated leaders to make the call to cancel the Sunday morning gathering. I used to boast “We never cancel,” and never did for nearly twenty-eight years until this past winter conditions were so bad on Sunday morning we did so twice!

I'm sorry to say I used to think it was a reflection of the quality of the spirituality of a congregation if they did call the gathering on account of snow. No longer. If roads are impassable or parking lots cannot be plowed than wisdom probably is to punt and call it a day. But Refuge is in town and though it was snowing again this past Sunday morning, our city crew had done a marvelous job of clearing all the roads. What's more, we don't have a parking lot to be cleared or worried about. And if Pastor Guy and the folks at Chetek Lutheran were meeting (and the Methodists up the street as well) who was I to cancel our gathering? Who ever could make it would and those who would have to travel roads that had yet to be plowed or were considered unsafe were justified in remaining at home.

They lead so well together

Kale and LeAnne normally lead worship on the first Sunday of every month but he had messaged me the day before to let us know that both of them were under the weather and would be unable to lead snow or no snow. Fortunately all our kids were home on account of Thanksgiving and our son, Ed, and our daughter, Emma, are worship leaders in the fellowships they are members of and were happy to pinch hit.

I have a rule at our fellowship: our service begins at 10 a.m. whether we have a quorum or not. Here's what happens at 724 Leonard Street in Chetek every Sunday these days. At 10 a.m. there's just a handful of people in attendance (and I do mean a handful). Our worship leaders know that the service always begins with two songs before the “meet and greet”-time begins (otherwise there would be frankly few to mingle with). It's the music, after all, that draws the rest in. By 10:30-ish whoever is going to be there is usually on hand.

On Sunday at 10 a.m., as the snow continued to fall, our congregation was made up of the following individuals: Ed and Emma who were on the platform, our other son, Charlie, who was in the sound booth, a guest named Rick from a fellowship in Cameron who had canceled that day who was sitting toward the back on the left side, Dennis and Vicki who were in their usual place (against the rear wall of the sanctuary on the right side) and I in mine (front row, left side). Stationed almost like four points of the compass it was an awkward arrangement for such an intimate gathering. Sometime during the first song, Linda and our other daughter, Christine, entered the sanctuary and sat in the row that Linda is wont to sit in (mid-right side section). Snow be danged but we were having 'church' or, at least, taking our places as if it were yet another Sunday morning on Leonard Street.

After Ed and Emma's short worship set, I suggested we all circle up in the “couch corner” of the sanctuary and just as we had arranged the chairs accordingly, the second shift of worshipers came in – Austin and Monica with good friend, Sandy, in tow, Josh and Sarah and two of ABC's short-term workers, Kerry from Costa Rico and Ricky from Belize. In a few short minutes we had doubled in size.

I love the "couch corner" in our sanctuary

With that subtle move to the back the dynamic had shifted from worship service in a sanctuary to that of a family gathering in somebody's living room. For the next several minutes we listened to updates of the goings-on of our three kids who were home for the long holiday weekend, how Thanksgiving had been celebrated among different families, and some blessings to thank God for such as Sandy, a nurse at our local nursing home, who couldn't make it home the night before and was grateful to spend the night at Austin & Monica's.

While it was the First Sunday of Advent instead of preaching the text we engaged in a devotional interactive study of Luke 1:26-38, the pronouncement of Gabriel to Mary that she would bear the long awaited Messiah. My question to the group was, “Did Mary have a choice?” That is, could she have said to Gabriel, “Thanks but no thanks”? For the next thirty minutes or so our conversation became essentially a reflection on the mystery of free will and God's sovereignty; does God's foreknowledge remove our ability to say 'no' to his invitation? Think of Abraham who was asked to turn his back on his life in Ur or Moses asked to go and lead the people out of Egypt or Jonah who ran away from God's call to preach at Nineveh. Did they really have a choice or were they “cornered” and “divinely persuaded” to play the part they were called upon to do?

My question provoked a lot of reflection which both young and old shared their perspective on. This was far more than a parlor game with zero risk. For if Mary was truly free to decline Gabriel's pronouncement, then any one of us is free to resist the Holy Spirit when we feel invited to step out of our comfort zone and play the role God asks to play at a particular moment.

Our Bible reflection time led naturally into a time of prayer for one another followed by Ed and Emma leading us in yet another short worship set before we shared communion with one another. When it was over, over two hours had elapsed. Even on a snow-day a Refuge-gathering goes at least two hours. We just can't seem to help ourselves.

At the close of The Homecoming by Earl Hamner, Jr. Clay-boy Spencer, unable to make it home, ends up stranded on Christmas Eve with the spinster sisters Miss Emma and Miss Etta on account of a blizzard that has descended upon Spencer Mountain. As he warms himself by the fireplace, Miss Etta hands him a mug of eggnog spiked, as it were, with a touch of “Papa's Recipe”. As they visit by the fire Miss Etta remarks, “The nice thing about life is that you never know when there's going to be a party.” I could have canceled our gathering this past Sunday and no one would have complained or grumbled. After all, who doesn't love a snow day? But think what the sixteen of us would have missed? We gathered in Jesus' name, worshiped, read and reflected upon the Word, shared a piece from our lives with one another, prayed for one another and then gathered at the table to remind ourselves once again that He makes us one family through his broken body and shed blood. Yes, Miss Etta was right. The snow that kept most of us home bound this past Sunday brought a handful of us together to enjoy good company in a serendipitous party held in Jesus' honor.

Giving thanks even on the bad days

A Thanksgiving Eve Service used to be shared between the Lutherans and the Methodists in Chetek, one year Chetek Lutheran hosting and the following Chetek United Methodist, rotating back and forth as such for many years running. Somewhere along the way, however, things changed and it became a gathering open to any congregation in Chetek. This year with Pastor Norm in Georgia, Pastor Paul in South Dakota, Pastor Chris in Indiana and Pastor Scott in Minnesota, it fell to Pastor Guy from Chetek Lutheran and myself to facilitate the gathering and since Guy was hosting that meant I was up to bat to share the message. The following post is the gist of what I shared.

...

“I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair and when I got out of bed this morning, I tripped on the skateboard and by mistake I dropped my sweater in the sink while the water was running and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. At breakfast Anthony found a Corvette Sting Ray car kit in his breakfast cereal box and Nick found a Junior Undercover Agent code ring in his breakfast cereal box, but in my breakfast cereal box all I found was breakfast cereal. I think I'll move to Australia.”

So begins Judith Viorst's wonderful little book Alexander and the Horrible, Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. In it she shares the woes that beset an eight-year-old boy named Alexander throughout the course of a miserable day.

“There were two cupcakes in Philip Parker's lunch bag and Albert got a Hershey bar with almonds and Paul's mother gave him a piece of jelly roll that had little coconut sprinkles on the top. Guess whose mother forgot to put in dessert? It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.”

“There were Lima beans for dinner and I hate Lima beans. There was kissing on TV and I hate kissing. My bath was too hot, I got soap in my eyes, my marble went down the drain, and I had to wear my railroad-train pajamas. I hate my railroad-train pajamas. When I went to bed Nick took back the pillow he said I could keep and the Mickey Mouse nightlight burned out and I bit my tongue. The cat wants to sleep with Anthony, not with me.”

We've all had days like that where nothing has gone right, where we wished had we to do it over could have just stayed in bed. We've all had months like that – seasons, really – where the math just doesn't add up, where it feels we've had more losses than wins. It makes me think of a card my mom sent me once that on the cover said, “In every life a little rain must fall” and upon opening it reads, “followed by damaging winds and hail.” Indeed.

I think Hallmark said it better. Just saying.

I'm a chaplain at the Barron County Jail and that means, among other things, that I lead a monthly worship service there, teach a quarterly class on the difference a father makes, and sit down from time to time with guys who so request a visit. When I think of Daniel Powter's song Bad Day – 'Cause you had a bad day. You're taking one down. You sing a sad song just to turn it around – I think of a guy named “Joe.”

Joe and I met after one of the worship services I led and we began to meet regularly at the jail for several months running. He enrolled in my class (as well as others there too), and over time made trustee (which is a big deal). Sandy, the Director of Inmate Services, helped him secure a job on the outside and because of “good” time he actually was let out early. It was Saturday morning and everything was looking up.

He got a ride to his new job (a saw mill) but when he showed up the mill was on fire – as in burning to the ground. Not only was there no work that day it was uncertain when the place would reopen. Strike 1. He was staying with his mom and that very day got into a heated argument with his mom's boyfriend. Strike 2. The very next morning (Sunday) he showed up at Refuge but Pastor Jeff happened to be on vacation. Despite a friendly plea from our greeter to stay anyway Joe left in a huff and in a mood. So he drove over to Barron to find an old “buddy” and we have a beer, then three, then six, now we smoke a few joints, now we're heading down Highway 25 to hook up with some girls and oh, by the way, the car is stolen, now we're leading the cops on a three county chase, higher than a kite, eventually crashing and running into someone's house. This is all in the course of one day of a guy who was released from jail the day before on an 8-year stayed and imposed sentence. That means when they catch you, you go directly to prison and you don't pass go. That's a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Of course, I knew none of this at the time. The following week when I was up at the jail to see someone else I asked Sandy for Joe's contact information. As she went to retrieve that information and I watched her read the monitor of her computer I noticed her eyes get bigger and bigger and her mouth slowly open. After she relayed this all to me to say that I was upset is to sanitize that moment. Unbelievable. After months of weekly visits, Bible study, prayer, you're out one day and you totally self-destruct? I was livid and when Sandy very sweetly said to me, “Well, I guess Mr. Joe just has to learn a few things more,” my thoughts about that were less than godly.

When he was finally extradited back to Barron County prior to being sent down to Waupun, Sandy called me to let me know that Joe wanted to see me prior to being sent downstate. Frankly, I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to waste one more minute with this guy. But, of course, I went. That's what pastors do. But I was going to have a little heart-to-heart with Joe and I was going to give it to him with the bark on. As I sat in PV1 at the jail waiting for Joe to join me I once again rehearsed what I was going to blast him with. And then the door opened, and there stood Joe dejectedly and instantly God gave me his heart for him. He sat down in a heap and said, “Jeff, I'm just so, so, sorry....” But God is so good. He's so nice, as one preacher used to say. Because when the moment came to let him have it all I said was, “It's okay, Joe. God loves you and he's in the place they're sending you to so look for him there.” And I was able to give Joe a hug before he went south.

It makes me think of another inmate I met in the last year or so at the jail. “Sam” was a meth dealer and because he done his business across state lines when he first came to the jail he was looking at something that essentially would amount to a life-sentence. He also was a student in my class and we would meet regularly outside of class. He was a crack-baby. His mom had used heroine until the day he was born so before he even had taken a breath in this world Sam was already set up to fail. His dad was no better. He grew up in foster care. He made a lot of bad choices in his life and now will be in our penal system for many years to come. Let me read you a portion of a letter he sent me from Waupun a few months ago.

“I was able to get into a great weekly Bible study and an amazing worship service weekly. You know, it's an incredible moving of the Spirit when 100+ “hardened” criminals are in a chapel clapping lifting the Lord up in praise! My spirit just overflows every Thursday night when I'm in the service. I know and accept that God is working on me and in me right now! With the people he sends into my path. Maybe for a day or longer it just all points to God at work!! Believers are here mixed in with everything else. We are here and we tend to “gravitate” to one another Ya we still have “challenges” but we walk for and with the Lord each day!”

He closed his letter with 1Thessalonians 5:16-18: “Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.” Just to be clear: Joy is not happiness. I can start my day off happy, have a spat with Linda over something inconsequential, or get a flat tire on my way to Eau Claire which sends my perfectly planned day totally off course and I'm not happy anymore. No, joy is what one pastor calls bedrock-stuff. Joy is knowing God loves me and is with me no matter what. As we go about our day we are exhorted to have a prayerful mindset, bringing our concerns and frustrations and cares to the Lord who cares for us. And no matter if it is a good day or a bad day, whether in your breakfast cereal box there is just breakfast cereal, we are to give thanks in all things.

One of my favorite stories from The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom is how while interned at Ravensbrück concentration camp her older sister Betsie made Corrie make a mental list of all the things they should give thanks for. Corrie didn't want to but Betsie was insistent because, after all, the Scripture says to give thanks “in all circumstances” not just in pleasant ones. So Betsie began to name them, like, they were together and that somehow the guards had missed their pocket New Testament when they entered the camp. But when Betsie suggested giving thanks for Barracks 28, their dormitory, Corrie thought she had gone too far. After all, the crowded dorm was packed with women living in deplorable conditions and crawling with fleas. “In all things,” Betsie persisted so reluctantly Corrie muttered her thanks for the fleas.

Every night after receiving their meager bowl of turnip soup Betsie and Corrie would retreat to the back of the barracks and under the light of a wan single light bulb hold their evening worship gathering. This is how Corrie describes them:

“They were services like no others, these times in Barracks 28. A single meeting night might include a recital of the Magnificat in Latin by a group of Roman Catholics, a whispered hymn by some Lutherans, and a sotto-voce chant by Eastern Orthodox women. With each moment the crowd around us would swell, packing the nearby platforms, hanging over the edges, until the high structures groaned and swayed.”

“At last either Betsie or I would open the Bible. Because only the Hollanders could understand the Dutch text we would translate aloud in German. And then we would hear the life-giving words passed back along the aisles in French, Polish, Russian, Czech, back into Dutch. They were little previews of heaven, these evenings beneath the light bulb. I would think of Haarlem, each substantial church set behind its wrought-iron fence and its barrier of doctrine. And I would know again that in darkness Gods truth shines most clear.” (p. 201)

A few months later, Betsie had heard something that day which she later shared with Corrie. Betsie reflected upon the fact that she always found it remarkable the relative degree of freedom they enjoyed inside the barracks and then she overheard a guard that day refuse to enter on account of the fleas. These annoying, pestilent parasites were God's sentries standing post and insuring that at least in Barracks 28 the Word would continue to be shared with all who would listen.

Paul put it this way: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Rom 8:28, NIV). We can give thanks in all things because we know that God is at work in all the messy details of our life and by his grace and in his time he is bringing forth good even on those days where in frustration we wish we lived in Australia. But as Alexander's mother reminds him, “Some days are like that, even in Australia.”

Whispering our prayers

“It’s after midnight. The two youngest children are sleeping. You sneak out, dig up your Bible and bring it back inside. The curtains are pulled and very, very softly do you read to your wife and 16-year-old son. You’ve only recently shared the gospel with him. Now he’s old enough and wise enough not to accidentally betray you. Of course, he didn’t understand the gospel at first, but you’re teaching him. You’ve been praying for years that he’d be ready.”

“You read the Bible in the dark, you pray, the words are hardly audible. Do you sing in whispers? When you’re in a bold mood.”

“The Secret and Surprising Ways Christians Pray in North Korea” (from Open Doors, Secret and Surprising October 25, 2018)

Our fellowship has observed the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church (IDOPPC) for over twenty years. While several advocacy groups like Open Doors (OD) and The Voice of the Martyrs (VOM) provide inserts, power points and video material to help a pastor facilitate this gathering, the main thing is that Christians here, who are free to gather and pray and worship to their heart's content without any fear of reprisal by either their neighbors or local government officials take time to pray for their brothers and sisters in Christ in other parts of the globe who persist in Christian faith despite it being culturally unpopular, illegal and, in some places, downright dangerous.

In this year's observance I had Olivia, a sixth grader, begin our time of prayer by reading the story of Peter's incarceration found in Acts 12. Herod, feeling the approval of his subjects for beheading James, brother of John and apostle of Jesus, has Peter arrested. His plan is to do him in the next day. Meanwhile, fearing for Peter's life, the "church prayed strenuously" (12:6, The Message). God answered their concerted prayers in a remarkable way: he sent an angel to break Peter out of Herod's prison. Though they had prayed for just this very thing, it took a while before they could believe their eyes when Peter stood in the middle of their gathering. The point for all of us is that we need to labor in prayer for those imprisoned on behalf of Jesus. Frankly, a lot of us while good at laboring aren't very good at laboring in prayer.

Ji Hyeon A, a North Korean defector, was forced to have an abortion
without anesthesia because of her faith prior to her defection

We then watched two short videos about the life of the faithful in North Korea. Given it's reputation, it should not be a surprise to us to learn that life is extremely challenging for believers there. To confess Christ as Lord is literally to risk life imprisonment at a labor camp or be killed by a North Korean hit squad. As a segue to our time of intercession I had LeAnne, one of our young moms, read Jesus' words found in John 15. On the night that he himself was betrayed by a dear friend he grimly reminded the disciples, "If you find the godless world is hating you, remember it got its start hating me. If you lived on the world’s terms, the world would love you as one of its own. But since I picked you to live on God’s terms and no longer on the world’s terms, the world is going to hate you"  (vv. 18-19). Jesus didn't want us to be disillusioned when the things that happened to him happened to us. Through the centuries and up to the present day Christians have suffered economic deprivation, incarceration, torture and death on account of the faith. But if these things happened to our Shepherd without shame, it would be naive of any of us to think we would receive better treatment simply because we live in a modern world.

North Korea is physically and spiritually in darkness

At Refuge, we do our Sunday-morning praying in a few different ways. Every Sunday the altar is open and people are encouraged to come forward during the course of worship and, if they are able, kneel to receive prayer. At least half of the Sundays in a given year we practice “open mic”-praying. As worship is concluding there is a mic on the floor where people are encouraged – and at times literally “volunteered” - to come to the mic and pray for one of the individuals or ministries listed on a prayer insert in our bulletin. But on the rest of the Sundays we break into “prayer circles”, groups of 5-7 people who are then encouraged to spend time praying for each other. (Honestly, if I put the matter to a vote, the prayer circle format would win every time against the open mic one such is the fear that people have of speaking publicly, even among friends.)

At this year's IDOPPC gathering, having listened to the Scriptures

and having watched the testimonials of a few Christians who have endured persecution in North Korea we were ready to begin interceding for them. I asked them to break into prayer circles and with the help of an insert provided by VOM spend time praying for the faithful but to do so while whispering. As a rule we are not shouters here despite the fact that a good many of us consider ourselves Pentecostals. Even at our most jubilant we keep things to a dull roar. But in honor of those who have to whisper their prayers regularly for their own safety, we spent about twenty minutes whispering ours. Speaking for myself and a few others there was something emotionally moving as I listened to the corporate murmuring of our fellowship praying concertedly for those we will never meet this side of eternity.

While I prayed in our prayer circle Daniel 2 came to mind. Nebuchadnezzar, sitting on his throne in Babylon, is troubled by a dream that both terrifies and perplexes him. Unable to make heads or tails of it he summons his wise men and demands they not only they interpret his dream but tell him what he saw (an impossible act). While whining with proper court decorum just how impossible a thing their sovereign has just commanded, a young Hebrew man and one of the exiles from Jerusalem is brought before him and incredibly tells Nebuchadnezzar just what he's asking for to a T.

The king, Daniel states matter-of-factly, saw a towering statue of a man made up of all kinds of alloys but ultimately as tall and impressive as it was in one moment it was destroyed completely.

“While you were looking at this statue, a stone cut out of a mountain by an invisible hand hit the statue, smashing its iron-ceramic feet. Then the whole thing fell to pieces—iron, tile, bronze, silver, and gold, smashed to bits. It was like scraps of old newspapers in a vacant lot in a hot dry summer, blown every which way by the wind, scattered to oblivion. But the stone that hit the statue became a huge mountain, dominating the horizon.” (vv. 34-35, Msg).

As Daniel continues with the interpretation he informs the king that every different part of the statue is a kingdom of the world that becomes increasingly more brittle in its consistency as it descends to the toes.

“But throughout the history of these kingdoms, the God of heaven

will be building a kingdom that will never be destroyed, nor will this kingdom ever fall under the domination of another. In the end it will crush the other kingdoms and finish them off and come through it all standing strong and eternal. It will be like the stone cut from the mountain by the invisible hand that crushed the iron, the bronze, the ceramic, the silver, and the gold. The great God has let the king know what will happen in the years to come.” (vv. 44-45)

The present ruling powers – powers like China, North Korea, Iran, and other places where Christians must whisper their prayers lest they be found out – as absolute as they seem today in their dominance will one day be blown away. That thought helped me to whisper a little louder my “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done.”

We wrapped up our time of whispering prayer by singing softly Chris Tomlin's song How Great Is Our God. There is something powerful when we quietly affirm together that whatever king or dictator or world leader would like to believe, his little kingdom is going to be ultimately replaced - crushed, really - by God's kingdom  which is coming in its fullness at the end of days.

To lead us back into worship, I had Olivia's older sister, Emily, a freshman in high school, read to us the story of Paul and Silas' imprisonment in Philippi as found in Acts 16. Despite being locked up for no good reason, despite being black and blue from the beating they had received, at midnight they chose to sing a "robust" hymn to God. A "robust" hymn is a hymn sung with gusto (which, admittedly, is not our strong suit either). But we must, as Paula, Olivia and Emily's mother, reminded all of us, because we can. 

Admittedly, if we personally knew some of those folks the intensity of our prayers would be greater. But there's the rub. While going about their daily lives and seeking to share the gospel with their friends and neighbors, they have to do so subtly and with great care. But God hears our whispers as much as our shouts and I have to believe that what we whispered here in our sanctuary a week or so ago, God heard loud and clear in this throne room and dispatched his angels to do comfort and empower those who continue to remain faithful to him.