A brush with death on the mountain

None the worse for wear

“I wonder what sort of a tale we've fallen into?” Sam to Frodo in The Two Towers

This past Sunday night a bunch of us from Refuge and Chetek UMC rode up to Christie Mountain for a couple of hours of some serious snow tubing. During one of the runs, seven of us joined our tubes together and were careening down the hill at what felt like Mach 1 speed when someone noticed James, my friend Austin's first-grade son, was standing at the bottom of our run smiling and waving at us. Our first reaction was to laugh and then almost in the same breath we started screaming at him to get out of the way before he became Christie's version of road kill. At the last second he did. At the end of the run while we were laughing at that close encounter of the snow-kind, his eighth-grade sister, Mary, quipped, “Well, at least we now have a story to tell.”

Later in the warming house, Austin and I were visiting over a cup of Joe. Right now we both have daughters who are on the outreach phase of their respective Discipleship Training Schools so made famous by the international para-church ministry Youth With A Mission (YWAM). Austin's 18-year old daughter, Rachel, is in South Africa near Capetown and our 25-year old daughter, Christine, is in northern Thailand. Both will graduate from the five-month spiritually intensive school in March. And then? Christine's plan is to remain in the Madison-area, get a job at a day care there and work and save up for her next great adventure. For Rachel, Austin's not sure what his daughter is thinking. Maybe stay in the YWAM-world (there are a plethora of various schools they offer all over the globe), maybe go back to work or pursue a degree. It's pretty much up for grabs.

Ain't it grand?

Rachel's the smiling Mexican on the left

James the Magnificent

That conversation – and Mary's quip about “a story to tell” - got me thinking of my own journey when I was Rachel's age. I was 18 and didn't have a clue where I was headed. My grades had been good enough in high school to be accepted at UW-Madison but from Day 1 I felt lost on the sprawling campus of 45,000+ students. Of course, the first two years of any university's undergraduate program is all about getting your generals out of the way but somehow I had it in my head that I had to know what my major was then and now. But I was clue-less and so now I like to tell people that my three semesters at UW-Madison I majored in wandering. And I got the grades to prove it. At most schools if you succeed academically you get a computer generated letter from the Dean that essentially says, “Good job. Keep up the good work.” In three semesters at UW-Madison, however, I made the other Dean's list. So poor were my grades that I got to meet her twice. Yeah, it's not a good thing. 

 

I think of Christine who's five-month gig at YWAM has re-cultivated her joy in Jesus and with life. She graduated from high school in 2007 and apart from a month-long stay in South Korea in 2008 since that time has worked in day care. She lived with a girlfriend down the street from us for about a year between 2011 and 2012 but then the girlfriend got married and the new husband moved in and Christine had to move home. She's been itching to spread her wings ever since. Upon her completion of her DTS, she has plans and part of that plan includes keeping Chetek in the rear-view mirror as much as possible. It isn't that she hates it here. It's just that right now as far as she knows her life is out there and she's got to find it.

These girls look like they're game for anything

Jim and Jessica are a couple from our fellowship who are on something of their own pursuit of finding life far from here. Last fall, after a lot of prayer and consideration, they checked out of life as they found it here – a beautiful home in the country, good-paying jobs they enjoyed and a very active family life that revolved around their five children – and metaphorically jumped from the plane otherwise known as the American Dream into Guatemala to pursue the kernel of a ministry dream there. A friend of theirs from our area had moved to the environs of Guatemala City a few years ago to begin an orphanage and Jim and Jessica felt inspired and led to help her in that endeavor. At the moment, however, the orphanage remains mired in governmental red tape so just like their friend they have sought to bloom where they've landed. They found a safe place to live, a good Christian school nearby for their kids to attend and a faith-family to join and be a part of. At the same time, like the four Penvensie kids exploring Professor Kirke's castle, they have felt at times that they have been feeling their way through the wardrobe into Narnia which in their case looks a lot like Guatemala. It's quite a story they've fallen into.

This is what Jessica posted on her Facebook page just the other day:

 

Had a friend say to me today, “Your story is like reading a good book! I can hardly wait to see what the next chapter holds.” To which I can only say in prayer, “Okay, Lord! You are the Author, work in us and write the story of our life with You.”

No matter how long their journey in Guatemala lasts be it this school year (the length of their original commitment) or something far longer is too soon to say but one thing's for sure: like Mary said after nearly plowing into her little brother at the bottom of Christie Mountain, at least they'll have a story to tell when it's over.

She's quite a story-teller

Our youngest daughter, Emma, left for college last fall in pursuit of a degree in theater from Bethel University in St. Paul. Now that she's made it to the Cities (that is, the Twin Cities), I just don't see her ever looking back to our tiny hamlet of Chetek except to check in with the old folks here. The world and her dreams, after all, are also out there and won't be found just by walking across the long bridge on the north side of town. She was the Salutatorian of her graduating class last spring and on Graduation Day she challenged her classmates and the rest of us in attendance that day with this bit of sound advice: “In the story of our lives that each of us are writing make sure it's a story worth telling.” I couldn't agree more. In fact, with the yarn that each of our kids is busily spinning I'm like Jessica's friend anxious to discover just where all this is taking us.

Our caravan of snow tubes missed James by a second or two the other night. If he had been paying attention he might have gone home and told his mom he nearly died out "on the mountain" and that he saw his 7-year old life flash before his eyes. But I'm pretty sure he's totally oblivious to the fact that had he remained where he was standing a moment or more longer he would have gained altitude and this little anecdote would have ended differently. Instead we all had a good laugh, picked ourselves up and drug our tubes over to the lift for another go at the hill with James leading the way. Those are the kinds of stories that moms like to read about – you know, good times had by all. But Austin looked at me and said under his breath, “Was it wrong of me that for a moment I kinda wanted to hit him just to see how far he'd fly?” Nah, sounds like a dad to me. 

"Remember, James: don't tell Mom about this. Let's keep this between you and me."

"Maybe we're not Christians"

The following quote is from an article I read a few years ago by an author whose name I'll share at the end of this post. When I read it, I copied it immediately for a lot of reasons. Namely because I agree with the sentiments the author expresses but also because of the irony of who it is who penned them. I re-post this segment here because I am troubled by something: I have been an evangelical Christian for 31 years now, 24 of which I have spent either training for ministry or working in it. During that time the songs we worship to have changed both in content and in style, the meeting places where we gather to sing those songs have been radically modernized, and the delivery systems by which we disseminate the message have exponentially increased. We are relevant, contemporary, casual, accessible, non-judgmental and we have Wi-Fi. If you worship at a newer evangelical fellowship there's a good chance that the theater seat you sit in will have a place to put your coffee mocha that you picked up in the foyer. But are we living any better?

If the experts are right, though we have bigger über-churches where the saints can gather to share a worship experience in a pristine thoroughly modern facility, Christianity in America continues to decline despite all our best efforts to “grow” the Church. Our marriages fail as frequently as our pagan neighbors' do, we have many of the same financial problems they do and live, in some cases, as poorly as they do. In fact, often we look just like them. For someone who makes his living by serving as the pastor of a local fellowship, I can't help but wonder why as an aggregate we seem to have so little influence on the American landscape. Well, here's how one guy answers that question (you should know that his audience is primarily pastors and other ministry-types):

When Martin Luther lamented at the end of his life that he might not be justified, he must have seen something dark in himself in relation to the Scriptures, something that we in the modern church might be overlooking. The Scriptures say that we are to be known as followers of Christ by the evidence of our love for one another, but we’re not (see John 13:35). The Scriptures say that we are not to boast about what we have or what we have done, but we do (see Jer. 9:23-24). The Scriptures say that in the last days people will be lovers of themselves and lovers of money, and we are (see 2 Tim. 3:5, NKJV). Very often we charismatics rejoice in the power of God, and rightly so. But we subject ourselves to ridicule when we boast that we are not among those “having a form of godliness but denying its power” (2 Timothy 3:5). We claim that we have spiritual power and others don’t because of our openness to accept and operate in the gifts of the Holy Spirit. But our words fall short when our marriages don’t work, our children are wild and disobedient, and we refine the art of giving and receiving money to the point that we could qualify as the experts in greed that Peter warns about in his second letter (see 2 Pet. 2:14). We have a credibility problem. We have some wonderful churches, but increasingly, people do not seek to be connected. We have some outstanding para-church leaders, but others are seen as self-satisfied right-wing crusaders who wouldn’t hesitate to banish the Supreme Court, establish a Christian theocracy, and use the power of the state to force the non-compliant into godly living. We have some wonderful givers, but many of them have become seduced by the major donor departments of ministries who have convinced them that if they will fund one more Christian project, then the world will become a better place. Thus, churches are discouraged, para-church ministries preach to their own choirs rather than finding their intended audiences, and God’s money is squandered on projects that don’t work. It is no wonder that the secular world is hesitant to look to Christian leaders for realistic answers to today’s problems. They think that we are just another special interest group, and I doubt that they see us as bastions of wisdom and insight. Salt and light we are not.

Maybe we’re not Christians. Maybe we’re just the most popular religion of the day, using the power of persuasion, the force of our numbers, and the strength of our money to advance our ideology. Maybe we just believe whatever makes sense to us by default, and we don’t truly—as individuals and as communities of Christians—seek to be genuine disciples and to do God’s work of caring for the fatherless and the widow of our day. Could we be Pharisees? Our own books, television programs and prophecies should make us wonder. I believe that we all know and love the Word, but we live in earthly vessels with a fallen nature. We feel and see the hopes of the Spirit within, but we also end up doing the very things we do not want to do. When we preach, write, lobby, raise money, build, broadcast, threaten, sue and spin, we present conflicting images that don’t stand up very well against the tests of time and scrutiny. We are confusing the world, other Christians, and our families. This isn’t something that can be changed with a list of practical exercises. This is something that has to be dealt with deep within us by exposing ourselves to the wisdom of the Scriptures, to one another, and to God. 

 - from November 2003 issue of Ministries Today, a leading magazine for Charismatic ministry leaders.

There's more to that article but these two paragraphs touch on the matter at hand – if we are as Christian as much as we say that we are, then why does it seem so many of us live so badly? Could it be, as this individual suggests, that for all our noise to the contrary we really have yet to believe? In thirty years those first disciples went from Jerusalem to Rome with missionary zeal. Even after the martyrdom of Stephen when many of them fled the city in fear of their lives “wherever they were scattered, they preached the Message about Jesus” ( Acts 8:4, Msg). If I really believe that time is short, the Lord's return is near and with him comes blessing and reward for those who who have remained faithful and “...anger and fury on those who, in selfish pride, refuse to believe the truth and who follow what is wrong” (Rom 2:8, GWT), why do I choose to live not as a citizen of the Kingdom to come but as a worldling very much at home here?

Oh, yeah. I didn't mention the author yet. These words were written by Ted Haggard before the scandal of 2006 when he admitted to being unfaithful to his wife by having sex with a male prostitute as well as using recreational drugs. When the news broke after initial denial of the same, he admitted as much and resigned as pastor of New Life Church in Colorado Springs. According to his website, he submitted to the leadership of NLC and followed their counsel for restoring his marriage. After being out of the pulpit for several years he returned to Colorado Springs to begin St. James Church where he pastors today. Honestly, if I lived in that city and was looking for a fellowship to worship with I don't think it would be my first stop. But having said that if he were speaking from the pulpit of Refuge this Sunday and reiterated these very words, I would offer up an “Amen.” Because he may just be right: maybe we don't live well or Biblically because we may have “gone down the altar, knelt [Tebow-style is how we do it now] and prayed the prayer” but it's just so much talk. That we still seem committed to the same agenda we have professed to renounce demonstrates that in reality we have not really repented of our unbelief and are therefore not saved.