That beautiful weakness (Gideon's Story: Part 1)

His story starts sorta like this

“Go in this strength that is yours. Save Israel from Midian. Haven’t I just sent you?”

Gideon said to him, “Me, my master? How and with what could I ever save Israel? Look at me. My clan’s the weakest in Manasseh and I’m the runt of the litter.”

God said to him, “I’ll be with you. Believe me, you’ll defeat Midian as one man.”

Judges 6:14-16, The Message

I will be with you. It is always so. No one who goes at the behest of God ever goes alone.

J.A. Motyer

Here's an epic landscape to go with an epic story

The tale of Gideon in the Book of Judges (Judges 6:1-8:35) is a story that is screenplay-worthy: a little-known farmer rises to prominence to lead the nation into a fantastic victory over those who are oppressing them. It's almost Braveheartesque, minus the copious blood (except, of course, for the big battle scene at the end). It has an unlikely hero (Gideon), it has ruthless bad guys (Midianites, among them Oreb and Zeeb) and it has an epic battle climax (Gideon's brave 300 against the horde of Midian). All it lacks is the girl and a Howard Shore soundtrack (the man who scored The Lord of the Rings).

His story begins much like all Star Wars movies do with a crawl letting us know that, among other things, it is a dark time for the people of God. Once again they've lost their way. Once again they have forgotten their history. Once again the Hun is not only at the door but comes and goes as he pleases. They live like badgers in mountain caves and strongholds doing what farming they can on the plains below before another Midianite raiding force swoops in on them on the latest in military hardware – the camel (v. 5) – a strike force that struck terror in the heart of the sons and daughters of Abraham.

“When Israel planted its crops, Midian and Amalek, the easterners, would invade them, camp in their fields, and destroy their crops all the way down to Gaza. They left nothing for them to live on, neither sheep nor ox nor donkey. Bringing their cattle and tents, they came in and took over, like an invasion of locusts. And their camels—past counting! They marched in and devastated the country.” (vv. 2-5)

Dark days indeed. Things are so bad that it jolts their national memory and a collective cry goes up to the God of their fathers (v. 6). And just like in the Moses story in the Torah, God raises up a man to lead them.

To people on foot this would be a fearful sight

His name is Gideon and when the camera zooms in on him we find that he is threshing wheat in the most unlikeliest of places, a hole in the ground. I wasn't raised on a farm. I was raised in a suburb of Milwaukee so unlike several members of Refuge the rhythms of planting and harvesting are not imprinted on my soul. I have it on good authority, however, that wheat was never threshed in a hollow; rather, the work was done in a wide, open place where the wind could carry away the chaff. What's more, most farmers did such work with the help of a threshing sledge pulled by oxen. But instead, we find our hero toiling in a winepress, a carved-out depression in a rock, beating his meager harvest out by hand and hoping to keep a low profile as he does for fear a Midianite raiding force will spot and spoil him.

You're gonna need more than a Jedi mind trick

And then it happens: like a flash of silent lightning an angel shows up and interrupts his anxiously fervid work. But not just any old angel – it's “the angel of the Lord”. The last time he showed up an octogenarian minding his sheep on the backside of the desert was conscripted to take on the superpower of his day (see Exodus 3:1ff). It's always a weighty thing when this angel shows up. History is usually in the making as it is now. When he made his appearance to Moses a generation or more ago it was with lots of special effects – a bush on fire that didn't burn up and, at least in my mind, an eerie wind that caused the fire to burn in a ghostly way. But this time he shows up like Obi-Wan in his hut on the edge of the Dune Sea who greets Gideon like a long lost Jedi.

“God is with you, O mighty warrior!” (v. 12)

I can never read that without imaging Gideon doing a double-take, looking over his shoulder in a “You talking to me?” kinda way. Something about that greeting, however, touches a nerve in him. Unlike most angelic encounters recorded in the Bible, he's not afraid. He's, in fact, peeved. “God is with us? That's a good one. Really. Then tell me this, wise guy: if God is with us why is all this happening to us? Where is the God of the stories our fathers told us, of Moses, of the devastation of Egypt and the Red Sea crossing? Nope. It can't be. The fact is we've been turned over so that Midian can have its way with us” (vv. 13-14). Admittedly, it's pretty bold talk for a guy speaking to an angel, let alone the angel of God. But clearly his sense of injustice has been awoken and he has no time for “back-in-the-day” kind of musings.

When this angel showed up it changed Moses' life

What I love about what happens next is that God likes this kind of retort. He's not offended in the least that an earthling has just taken him to task for something that is clearly their fault (they, after all, have been the ones who have been unfaithful). Instead, he commissions him on the spot to go and do something about it. It has something of the feel of Gandalf choosing Bilbo to be the lucky number while blowing smoke-rings outside of Bag End. “Good. There is strength in you. Go in this strength that is yours. Save the nation from the Midianites. I'm sending you” (v. 14).

Immediately, Gideon realizes he's gone and stepped in it and tries to defer with the oldest ploy in the book: “Me?...Look at me. My clan's the weakest in Manasseh and I'm the runt of the litter” (v. 15). All those years before Moses had much the same response when Yahweh had sought him out to deal with the Darth Sidius of his day: “But why me? What makes you think that I could ever go to Pharaoh and lead the children of Israel out of Egypt?” (3:11) God's standard response (Abraham, Jacob, Moses, Gideon, ad infinitum) to such weaseling is always the same: “I'll be with you.” That's it. And apparently, that should be enough. There will follow a bit of a test (vv. 17-24) that will literally put the fear of God into Gideon, but the two-fisted promise remains: “I will be with you. Believe me, you'll defeat Midian as one man” (v. 16).

It seems God has a knack for always choosing the “wrong” people for his work – a moon-worshiping herdsman from Ur is called to follow Yahweh to a land he does not know and becomes the father of his people, a two-faced sycophant with a penchant for manipulating others wrestles with Yahweh and becomes Israel, a man in the prime of his life who failed miserably at delivering the nation from Egypt the first time is sent back to do the same now as an old man. Over and over the story is repeated: unlikely people are called by God to do unlikely things and the result of their obedience is blessing for God's people. Writing about Moses, J.A. Motyer says:

If Moses lives in our memories as the towering leader of Israel in deliverance and pilgrimage, it is well to remember where he started – insecure, uncertain, unprepared, unworthy and un-almost-everything-else! (The Bible Speaks Today: The Message of Exodus, p. 60)

Hannah before the run

Which leads me to ask this: What situation grieves you? What thing out 'there' is 'wrong' and causes you to mutter under your breath or in your car where no one can hear you, “Someone oughta do something about that”? Most of us hopefully have heard by now of William Wilberforce, the face of the abolition movement in Nineteenth Century England, but have you ever heard of a girl named Hannah Redders? In the fall of Hannah's senior year of high school a germ of idea was planted: to run across the State of Wisconsin and raise awareness about the reality of the sex trafficking industry right here in the heartland as well as raise $20,000 for a non-profit in Milwaukee which cares for survivors of such a hideous trade. It's pretty audacious for anyone, let alone an 18-year-old kid. In fact, when she shared her plan to make this 400-mile journey in ten days with her uncle (me), a pastor and a Cross Country coach to boot, I told her that maybe because of her injury history she should aim a little lower – like run from Madison to Milwaukee. She would have none of it. And six months later, on a warm day in June, there I was with her, her family, a couple of my kids and a few friends, outside of Superior beginning the journey. Her plan was simple: she would run 20 miles a day and then recruit others to run an additional 20 miles a day and by Day 10 cross the finish line in Milwaukee. So with a reading from a short devotional and a prayer and a picture it began – the Rescue Run.

Day 1 of the Rescue Run south of Superior

We all got our superhero on to help her get there

Day 9 of the Rescue Run just north of Milwaukee

Over the next ten days, she snaked her way south, accompanied by her family and with various friends and family members along the way. On Day 10, as planned, she finished her course in Milwaukee, having run 200 miles of the distance herself, with some fanfare and with the additional accomplishment of raising over $20,000 for Exploit No More. That's pretty cool stuff for anybody let alone an 18-year-old girl.

“Go in this strength that you have...” Again, what cause moves you? There is plenty of wrong in our world and not all of it is in D.C. or in the Middle East. Some of it is right in our own back yard and God is looking for a man or a woman to say, “Yes, I'll go” armed only with the certainty that he will be with us. The weight of Scripture tells us that's more than enough to handle any resistance we may encounter as we seek to take on the Midianites in our neck of the woods. Relying on anything less than God's adequacy may, in fact, point to the reality that we really are not up to the task.

How do you defeat a foe clearly stronger than you?

Mortal thoughts: An Ash Wednesday meditation

“Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Tonight for the very first time I received the imposition of ashes upon my forehead as a part of the Ash Wednesday gathering Linda and I attended at Chetek United Methodist. I was raised in Lutheranism and in those days I used to give up – or try to give up – things for Lent. We attended the Wednesday night Lenten gatherings religiously primarily because they were literally high drama – both our pastors had a flair for the dramatic and shared dramatic monologues that were so well presented I didn't want to miss a one. Most vividly I remember the night I was feverish and nauseous and scheduled to serve as an acolyte. I didn't want to stay home and in bed (where I probably should have been) because when you were an acolyte you had a front row seat to pastor's performance as he acted out the Word. But in all those years we never “did” ashes or if we did I don't recall ever participating in the act. Maybe it was an adult-only thing.

But tonight we decided to walk a block away to the Methodist fellowship and join them for worship. Chetek Lutheran had met at 5 p.m. at their sister congregation outside of town, Dovre Lutheran, and St. Boni's mass had been at 12 noon. So the choice was more or less made for us. We love Pastor Carrie anyway. We were a congregation of perhaps 20 people (in a sanctuary that easily seats 200) and all of us Methodist except, of course, for us. It was a simple liturgy: a few hymns out of the hymnal, a reading of Scripture, some written prayers that we prayed in unison, a message from 2 Corinthians 5, special music by Pastor Carrie and then “the imposition of ashes” (a phrase until tonight I was not familiar with). According to tradition the ashes come from the palms used in last year's Palm Sunday service (another little factoid I did not know about – I thought you just ordered them from a distributing house.)

There was first silence, then a prayer of contrition led by Pastor Carrie and then if you chose (and we all did) to come forward to receive the mark. For me, it was a normal, liturgical service. Nothing out of the ordinary going on, all the landmarks recognizable to me. Until that prayer and then quietly as I stood in line images silently moved across my mind's eye – images of the dead: my brother, Jim; my roommate in Bible college, Bob; my friend, Jill, from Lake Edge Lutheran days in high school; Denise, a young woman from Refuge; grandparents and aunts and uncles. My brother was 36 when he died suddenly. Bob was 27, Denise 21 and Jill 48 when they each in turn lost their battle to cancer. In that same moment, as Pastor Carrie placed the ashes upon my forehead and intoned, “Jeff, you are dust and to dust you shall return” I was reminded that sooner or later I will join them. That one day instead of presiding at the funeral for the dead someone else will be presiding at my funeral, committing me unto the Lord in sure and certain hope of the resurrection and of the life to come. Apart from the return of the Lord Jesus, this will certainly happen in due time.

The service concluded by praying the Lord's Prayer together. We said our good-byes and began our walk home. And as I walked the faces of the dead lingered there for a bit longer not in a morbid or haunting way but as a reminder that life is a vapor, that it swiftly passes and then it is over. Wisdom lies in making the most of the time we have been given. Psalm 90 came immediately to mind, admittedly not all of it just verse 12, but it's worth posting the entire prayer here:

1 Lord, you have been our dwelling place
    throughout all generations.
2 Before the mountains were born
    or you brought forth the whole world,
    from everlasting to everlasting you are God.

3 You turn people back to dust,
    saying, “Return to dust, you mortals.”
4 A thousand years in your sight
    are like a day that has just gone by,
    or like a watch in the night.
5 Yet you sweep people away in the sleep of death—
    they are like the new grass of the morning:
6 In the morning it springs up new,
    but by evening it is dry and withered.

7 We are consumed by your anger
    and terrified by your indignation.
8 You have set our iniquities before you,
    our secret sins in the light of your presence.
9 All our days pass away under your wrath;
    we finish our years with a moan.
10 Our days may come to seventy years,
    or eighty, if our strength endures;
yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow,
    for they quickly pass, and we fly away.
11 If only we knew the power of your anger!
    Your wrath is as great as the fear that is your due.
12 Teach us to number our days,
    that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

13 Relent, Lord! How long will it be?
    Have compassion on your servants.
14 Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love,
    that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.
15 Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,
    for as many years as we have seen trouble.
16 May your deeds be shown to your servants,
    your splendor to their children.

17 May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us;
    establish the work of our hands for us—
    yes, establish the work of our hands. (NIV)

It is good to be reminded that “God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them” (2 Cor 5:19) and equally important to recall that “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (v. 21). But the thought that everything has an end, even me, invoked a sense of humility and contrition to treat life, specifically my life, as the gift it really is and to live whatever time I have left, with his help, to the glory of God.

I knew them all

Seeds and secret ingredients: a life lesson from Mr. Ping and Jesus

Thank you, Mr. Ping

“We are noodle folk. Broth runs through our veins.” Mr. Ping in Kung Fu Panda

 “Listen. What do you make of this? A farmer planted seed. As he scattered the seed, some of it fell on the road and birds ate it. Some fell in the gravel; it sprouted quickly but didn’t put down roots, so when the sun came up it withered just as quickly. Some fell in the weeds; as it came up, it was strangled among the weeds and nothing came of it. Some fell on good earth and came up with a flourish, producing a harvest exceeding his wildest dreams.

“Are you listening to this? Really listening?”

Jesus of Nazareth as recorded in Mark 4:3-9

Since 2013 I have led a quarterly class at the Barron County Justice Center entitled Courageous Living. Based on the 2011 movie Courageous by the Kendrick brothers (the minds behind other faith-based movies like Facing the Giants, Fireproof, and War Room), this six-week class seeks to challenge men on the issues of what it means to be a dad and leading your family well. In Week 1, we watch the movie and then in the weeks that follow we look at four stories in the Book of Joshua which apply to God's call to each of us to be “strong and courageous” (Joshua 1:9). On the sixth and final week for those who choose to an opportunity is given to take “the Resolution” that the five main characters in the movie take. Most of the guys usually choose to stand and make this solemn vow.

Sometime during last fall's class I was asked by a member of “the Breakfast Club”, the weekly gathering of ministry leaders at Bob's Grill in Chetek, how successful I felt the curriculum was. i.e., was it working? Were guys emerging out of that class better dads and more attentive to the spiritual needs of themselves and their children?

I told him frankly, I don't know. For one thing, many of them are in process. That is, they took advantage of the class while they were an inmate at the BCJC and prior to being sent to prison. Or the final class corresponded with their release date from the Justice Center. Or half-way through the class the prison bus shows up carting them off to their next destination. Unless they request a one-on-one with me, after they complete Courageous I may not see them again. It's just the way it is with that population.

But ultimately, no curriculum, however well designed or well written is the “deal-breaker” with the human heart. There is no magic pill that can undo twenty-five or thirty-five years – or more! - of bad living. I've written about it in a post a few years ago but most of the big hills on our personal landscape got there by our own doing one truckload of dirt at a time. To un-do the hills and remake the landscape takes focus, persistence, time and, of course, the grace and power of God. I've yet to see it done else wise.

Just add the right ingredients and see what comes from the ground

So what I've come to do at the conclusion of Week 1 after we've watched the movie is pull out a pumpkin seed (simply because a pumpkin seed is fairly large seed as seeds go) and remind them that a seed is potential. I plant it in the ground and if I water it and make sure it gets plenty of sunlight and breathing room nine times out of ten something is going to grow. In this case, a pumpkin vine is going to grow and in time produce, naturally, pumpkins. But there is a lot of things that can impede that potential: too little water or too many weeds (at least in the initial stage as a mature pumpkin vine is a pretty hardy thing) can inhibit growth or kill it altogether. The question is, what kind of soil are you?

This is what Jesus says. In the story usually referred to as the Parable of the Sower there are three characters – the Sower, the Seed and the Soil. The Sower and the seed are constants – one sower, same seed. The only variable is the ground on which the seeds fall. And of those four different soils, only one kind promises to produce a bounty crop of pumpkins, the “good earth” that in time produces a harvest “exceeding his wildest dreams.” So the moral of the story seems to be two questions: What kind of soil am I and do I have what it takes to grow?

What kind of soil am I?

There are always people who play at religion, who parrot what they think people like myself want to hear. But if their soil is baked earth nothing of substance will ever come of it. A place like the Justice Center is replete with “jail-house religion” stories, guys who “come to Jesus” while they're waiting for sentencing. Thank God it is. Jail-house religion and fox-hole religion are, after all, close relatives. But if no real root is put down after the crisis passes, after probation is granted rather than prison, after the bullets no longer zing through the air, a lot of times the fever passes and the former inmate returns to doing life as they know it. And then there's the guy who's full of good intentions, who makes a profession of faith but slowly but surely gets caught up trying to catch up with the life he's been missing while he has been incarcerated. Soon, just like everybody else “outside” they're as “busy” as the rest of us, full of promises to “get back to church” when life settles back down. They mean it, of course, but it's a cheat – life is what it is and I don't know many people who purposely take a step back from the “rat race” once they're caught up in it. But for those who do the hard work, weeding and watering, in time something good starts to grow.

Good life lessons within

I'm a big fan of movie clips as a teaching device. Over the dozen or more classes I have led since 2013, I have used clips from movies like True Grit (the John Wayne version), The Patriot, Master and Commander, Dead Poets Society, Field of Dreams and more. Last week, I used Scene 19 from Kung Fu Panda. Tai Lung is on his way to the Jade Palace to confront Master Shifu and Po (aka The Dragon Warrior). In preparation for this horrific confrontation, the valley is evacuated. Dejectedly Po goes to help his dad, Mr. Ping, move their noodle cart. According to Grand Master Oogway, he was supposed to be the Dragon Warrior, the kung fu master capable of reading the Dragon Scroll and defeating Tai Lung. But his short stay at Shifu's academy is a bust. He is able to retrieve the Dragon Scroll but it is seemingly empty, there are no hidden secrets of overcoming an evil like Tai Lung. Mr. Ping, in attempting to encourage his son, Po, reveals a secret of his own – the secret of his secret ingredient noodle soup.

Mr. Ping: The secret ingredient is... nothing!

Po: Huh?

Mr. Ping: You heard me. Nothing! There is no secret ingredient.

A moment like that can be a catalyst to real change

Po: Wait, wait... it's just plain old noodle soup? You don't add some kind of special sauce or something?

Mr. Ping: Don't have to. To make something special you just have to believe it's special.

[Po looks at the scroll again, and sees his reflection in it]

Po: There is no secret ingredient...

I love that. I've used that line on my Cross Country kids, too. There is no secret ingredient to success or greatness. It's just you. You putting in the hard work. You turning your attention to the things that really matter. You believing that by the grace of God a man can actually change the landscape of his life.

As I've already alluded to, I don't believe any curriculum is the key

to bringing about real change in a person's life. Whenever I hear that line – as I do from time to time when some Christian marketer calls my office excited about a new program that promises to “change lives” - I smell something fishy. But when the grace of God is at work in a human heart which is demonstrating a desire to grow and change, anything is possible. Even a panda like Po can take on a scoundrel like Tai Lung and with a deft use of the Wuxi finger hold skadoosh his way into a life beyond his wildest dreams. I sincerely believe that and have it on good authority – Mr. Ping and Jesus, no less – that these things are so.

I think the word is "skadoosh"

This little light of mine: A meditation on Exodus 1:17-21

“The king of Egypt had a talk with the two Hebrew midwives; one was named Shiphrah and the other Puah. He said, 'When you deliver the Hebrew women, look at the sex of the baby. If it’s a boy, kill him; if it’s a girl, let her live.'”

“But the midwives had far too much respect for God and didn’t do what the king of Egypt ordered; they let the boy babies live. The king of Egypt called in the midwives. 'Why didn’t you obey my orders? You’ve let those babies live!'”

“The midwives answered Pharaoh, 'The Hebrew women aren’t like the Egyptian women; they’re vigorous. Before the midwife can get there, they’ve already had the baby.'”

“God was pleased with the midwives. The people continued to increase in number—a very strong people. And because the midwives honored God, God gave them families of their own.”

Exodus 1:17-21, The Message

After a year and a half in the Gospel of Mark, I have turned to the Book of Exodus for my personal Bible reading to begin the new year. Exodus is all about departure from what was reality for the people of God then – slavery, bondage, endless servitude – into something entirely new - freedom. It's about God at long last making good on his promise to Abraham four hundred or more years before to bring them back to the land that was their inheritance (see Gen 15). It's a book that includes episodes of God flexing his arms and laying down the law (literally!) in epic proportions as well as his unending forbearance with his people who even try his patience (and that's saying a lot!)

Exodus 1 starts something like this

The first chapter of Exodus reads something like the opening crawl of any of the Star Wars films i.e., “It is a dark time for the rebellion, etc., etc,” It is a dark time in the life of the people of God. They are slaves in Egypt. For the last four centuries that has been their lot. The heroic deeds of Governor Joseph have long since passed out of record. Now the powers that be – specifically, the power, Pharaoh – view these sheep-herders far differently than how they were regarded “back in the day.” Once given the fertile land of Goshen due to their profession now they are, as Donald Gowan puts it, “just aliens with an alarmingly high birth rate” (Theology in Exodus). Like an infestation of cockroaches, something must be done about “them.”

As the author of Exodus tells it, the first thing the king tries is back-breaking labor. In fact, in verses 13 and 14 of chapter 1 we're told the Egyptians work them “ruthlessly” (13), make their lives “bitter” (14a) and use them “ruthlessly” (14b), an unusual word, I've learned, that is used only five times in Scripture and all referring to circumstances of hardship and oppression. But despite his effort to stifle their birthrate, it has the opposite effect: they multiply like rabbits.

So, he resorts to Plan B: infanticide, gender “cleansing” at a woman's most vulnerable and powerless moment, when her baby emerges at long last from the safety of the womb. Imagine this scene where Pharaoh, dressed in all the magnificent robes of his office, sitting ensconced on his throne instructing two peasant midwives, Shiphrah and Puah, to do his dirty work. “If a woman gives birth to a girl, let it live; but if its a boy, kill it” (16). Standing before him, they are nothing; he is everything. They bow their heads and place their arm over their chest as a sign of willingness to submit to his will. But if we look closely the fingers of their other hand behind their backs are crossed. They have no intention of following through with this ridiculous command.

Quietly, without proclamation or fanfare, they defy Pharaoh, considered in that neck of the woods to be something akin to a god on earth. But the narrator tells us that they fear Another (17), the implication of course, Who is greater even than Pharaoh himself. They continue to help the Hebrew mothers at their birthing stools bring their male babies into the world. And after awhile when it is clear that Pharaoh's “Final Solution” is not working, he calls them on the carpet to give an accounting why the Hebrew population is growing and not declining. You would think that when summoned to the king's throne room they would be as scared as Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion are when led into the presence of the Great and Terrible Wizard of Oz. But instead of being daunted by him they play him for a fool. Essentially, they tell him a bald face lie that when they are summoned to a birth they are forever showing up late, a picture of complete incompetency (19).

You would expect Pharaoh to act like Caroll's Queen of Hearts and cry to the guards “Off with their heads! Off with their heads!” seeing through this flimsy excuse as so much cockamamie nonsense. Instead, he dismisses them from the throne room. The king of the world, with all power and might, has just been trumped by two lowly midwives who fear God and are willing to tell a fib for a greater good. Which I think is the author's way of telling us an inside-joke concluding his comment about how God rewarded them for their faithfulness with a wink and a nod (20-21). As J.A. Motyer puts it, “There is a wealth of irony running throughout these opening chapters...for all his 'greatness', Pharaoh is left unnamed, while the midwives (whom he regarded as mere tools of his policy) are remembered individually. This is Exodus' perception of who is important and who is not” (The Bible Speaks Today: The Message of Exodus, p. 29).

They wouldn't comply with the king's command either

These women, more than likely representative of many more scattered among the Hebrews, had no power, no influence, no connections, no money. All they possessed was respect and love for God and with that defied one of the greatest powers of all time. Like Daniel's three friends Shadrach, Meschach and Abednego many, many generations of Israelites later, they were unwilling to bend their knee to the equivalent of Nebuchadnezzar's statue in their day. And like those boys, God honored them for their willingness to go out on a limb for him and delivered them from the fire smoldering in Pharaoh's eyes. Instead of the firing squad, God blessed them with families of their own while Abraham's descendants continued to rapidly multiply.

Speaking of the first two chapters of Exodus Motyer says, “These...are the bare bones of a great story. It is a story to delight in, showing how the weak and powerless of the world overcame the strong and mighty; a story to horrify because of the terrible suffering it portrays; and a story to encourage because of the sure, providential care of God” (p. 30). As I reflect on this, I'm reminded of complimentary quotes by two individuals as opposite as night and day. First, Mother Teresa, the saint of the poor of Calcutta, who once said, “We can do no great things. We can only do small things with great love.” The other is by no less a darkened soul as Frederich Nietzsche who once commented, “The essential thing 'in heaven and earth' is...that there should be long obedience in the same direction; there thereby results, and has always resulted in the long run, something which has made life worth living.” God rewards acts of faithfulness whether they are considered “great” in the eyes of the press or, as is most likely the case, go on undetected and unrecorded for posterity. During the dark days of World War II, Christians like the ten Boom's of Holland's Haarlem defied the “pharaoh's edict” of that day by hiding descendants of Abraham as long as they could. All of them suffered for that choice and went to their reward before war's end save Corrie who spent the rest of her life traveling the world and telling the story of what God had done in the camp where they were imprisoned. They did what they could and their story is still told all these years later.

“This Little Light of Mine”, the gospel song we were taught as children, is a call to battle. Every week at the conclusion of their weekly service, the Lutheran fellowship of which my parents are members of sing this as their benediction. By the sound of their magnificent pipe organ accompanied by an odd assortment of tambourines and music makers spread throughout the sanctuary they sing this to one another as they return to the lives "outside":

This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine!

This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine!

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!

Hide it under a bushel, NO! I'm gonna let it shine!

Hide it under a bushel, NO! I'm gonna let it shine!

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!

Won't let Satan blow it out, I'm gonna let it shine!

Won't let Satan blow it out, I'm gonna let it shine!

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine!

As I read their story again I am challenged to let my little light shine in this neck of the woods. The world will always have its varieties of pharaohs seeking to intimidate the "little people" into compliance. The people of God overcome such blowhards and braggarts by fearing and loving God quietly, persistently and faithfully regardless if their lives seem out of step with the culture around them. It is the kind of defiance that we have always been called to regardless of who's in charge or calling the shots.

Why I'm running for office

“...seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” Jeremiah 29:7, NIV

In case you hadn't heard the news, I'm officially one of three candidates running for the position of mayor of Chetek. The primary in mid-February will narrow the field to two and the general election will be held in April. Whether or not I will be able to add “mayor” to my resume remains to be seen.

Since “going public” with my decision on Facebook a few weeks ago, I have had a regular stream of “attaboy!”s, “go for it!”s and enthusiastic support whether in person or by responding to my post or, surprising to me, many of my friends on Facebook re-posting my original post on their wall. This past week in the Chetek Alert, our local newspaper, it was front page news and several times since the paper came out I've been stopped by friends and acquaintances to wish me well and to ask me why. Why do you want to run for mayor? And the implied question as well, How did it come to this?

Here's a brief time-line of how I got to the place I now stand:

• About five years ago, Tom Stamman, an evangelist who ministers in the personal prophetic spoke this over me: “You should run for mayor.”
  (Those familiar with Tom's ministry know that Tom says a lot of things and not every one is "gospel truth". In fact, my understanding is that the New Testament function of the gift of prophecy operates far differently than it did in the days before Jesus. What I have come to do with his “words” is jot them down, hold them lightly and see what happens.)
• Six months or a year later he came through again and shared the same 'word' with me.
• During the last six-eight months there have been more than one or two conversations that we're eye-brow raising to me as I have not been spoken of this matter to anyone except my wife from time to time. For instance, I was at the funeral of my wife's cousin in Madison when the best man in our wedding chose to introduce me to his adult children in the following manner: “Jeff's the mayor of that town up there.” Or this past fall when our daughter Emma and I were speaking of our home town when she volunteered, “Dad, you should run for mayor.” It was, at the very least, curious and left me scratching my head a bit. Was God saying something or was I just seeing what I wanted to see?

• 

  I've played a mayor before at the Red Barn

  But what really put things into motion were two relatively recent conversations. In a town like Chetek, it's the town clerk that really runs the show. She keeps a low profile and diligently goes about her work but anyone who is paying attention knows that the reason things usually work as smoothly as they do is because of Carmen. Our girls had gone to school together so Linda suggested I speak to Carmen about this and so I stopped in at City Hall the week after Christmas and asked her to set me straight and pour cold water on this smoldering idea. Instead, I emerged 45 minutes later from her office with candidacy papers in hand. As she described just what the mayor does in Chetek she described someone with my skill-set – the ability to work with others to achieve certain ends, the ability to communicate with the public and to be the ambassador of our town, to name three.
• The second conversation preceded the one I just referenced and it is far more significant to me. In mid-December, our fellowship held a 24-hour prayer vigil simply because I felt we needed to hear from God. The morning the vigil began I turned my phone on and received a text from Duane. Duane is a career missionary with Youth With A Mission and someone I hold in high regard as a man of spiritual discernment. This is how his email read: “Got message from Greg and Rachel regarding prayer [for the mayoral vacancy]. I know nothing about the city and Knapp Haven issue. Their message triggered dream I had some days ago suggesting you consider running for mayor.” Understandably, that got my attention. When Duane and his wife, Lois, showed up to pray later that evening the three of us conversed about this matter. Until that moment, I had not discussed this with anyone other than my wife. In the midst of that conversation, Duane in his usual nonplussed manner shared this little nugget: “Jeff, you're history tells you where you are going.” I can't underscore enough how profoundly this affected me. Frankly, I had never heard it put just this way (apparently, as Lois explained, this is one of many common “Duane-isms”). I don't want to overstate it but it was something akin to Peter's rooftop vision in Acts 10 that freed him to begin pursuing the Gentile mission. The big net he saw was essentially a paradigm shift and nothing could ever be the same after that.

The way we were 1991

We have lived in Chetek for 24 ½ years now. When we moved here, we were a family with little kids. Now we're essentially empty-nesters. During this time, we've raised a family, bought and remodeled a 120-year old home, and led a local Christian fellowship through the seasons and the years. Our kids have marched in the Libertyfest parade as members of the Chetek (later Chetek-Weyerhaeuser) marching band and most of us have at one time or another have ran or walked in the Fishy Four. Over twenty-four years of pastoral ministry I have served on numerous boards (the Knapp Haven board, the Kinship board, the Chetek Food Shelf board and most recently the Community Center board), began and led a community youth ministry, was a founding participant of the Chetek Youth Center Project (aka The Garage) that for 15 years provided a safe, healthy place for kids to gather on Friday and Saturday nights, and chaired the Facilities Improvement Committee that helped bring about a successful school referendum in 1999 that brought 10 million dollars worth of new construction and remodeling to our school buildings. For 20 years I've read to kids at Roselawn. For 8 years I've coached high school Cross Country and middle school track. For 4 years I've been a sub in our district, mostly at the elementary school where I am still taller than most of the kids in that building.

All of these things don't necessarily mean I am qualified to serve as mayor but it does underscore the fact that Chetek is far more than the post I man. It's the home I love. 

The way we are today

“You're history tells you where you're going” said Duane. In that moment that he shared this with me, all the things I have been about since 1991 flashed before my eyes and suddenly it wasn't such a long walk around the block to imagine serving my adopted home-town as its mayor if that's what the voting public desired. So, that's how I got here.

Okay, the way we really are

Back in 1992, during a personal prayer retreat, the Lord spoke to me through Jeremiah 29. I had retreated to a friend's cabin in the woods in hopes of hearing from God for a sermon series. While I did get inspiration and (as I recall) got three good messages from it, in retrospect I really think what I heard was the word of the Lord for me, specifically verse 7: “Seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile...” That, in a nutshell, is one way of summing up my ministry in this community all these years. I have consciously and intentionally sought to do just these things whether it was helping raise money for new playground equipment on Roselawn's playground through the PTO or writing gas and food vouchers on behalf of the Chetek Food Shelf for those in need.

I'm indebted to Eugene H. Peterson's comments on Jeremiah 29:7. The word translated “peace and prosperity” is the Hebrew word shalom. As Peterson puts it:

Shalom means wholeness, the dynamic, vibrating health of a society that pulses with divinely directed purpose and surges with life-transforming love. Seek the shalom and pray for it. Throw yourselves into the place in which you find yourself, but not on its terms, on God's terms. Pray...

Jeremiah's letter is a rebuke and a challenge: 'Quit sitting around feeling sorry for yourselves. The aim of the person of faith is not to be as comfortable as possible but to live as deeply and thoroughly as possible – to deal with the reality of life, discover truth, create beauty, act out love.' Run with the Horses: The Quest for Life at Its Best

This is one of the hats I've worn - the day we broke ground 

Early on in my ministry here I received another seminal 'word' from a guy who was speaking at a pastor's gathering in Duluth. At the time, Jerry Cook was something of a big deal in the Pacific Northwest and was making the conference circuit. I was enamored by many of the things he shared that day and bought his book, Love, Acceptance & Forgiveness: Equipping the Church to be Truly Christian in a Non-Christian World. I've read it a couple of times since then and one of the bucket-fulls I've drawn from this well is this:

I was praying one day for the Lord to give me the community and the Lord stopped me. “Never pray for that again,” He said. “I'm not going to give a community to you. Instead I want you to pray, 'Lord, give me to the community.'”

This was how I finally awoke to the fact that God didn't want us to be a separate subculture, He wanted us to penetrate every segment of the society in which He had placed us.

This counsel has kinda been my marching orders ever since.

I'm not telling people, “It's God's will that I run for mayor.” Rather, I'm simply telling people I'm persuaded, based on all the things I have just shared, that I should pursue this – win or lose. I'm not asking people to pray that I win. While I'm humbled that a lot folks (who, by the way, can't vote for me anyway) believe I'd be a great mayor, I want them to pray that the Lord directs my steps. “A man's heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps” (Proverbs 16:9, KJV). If at the end of the day the citizens of Chetek choose another man to fill our present mayoral vacancy, well and good. I won't take it personally. It's not like I got nothing better to do. But for the time being, I'm running for office and feel a remarkable sense of peace about it. In fact, I'm actually having fun.

We'll see

A month or so ago, while eating at the Lake Buffet in Rice Lake, my fortune cookie that night read: “YOU ARE ABOUT TO EMBARK ON A MOST DELIGHTFUL JOURNEY!” At the time, I opined aloud to Linda if perhaps another trip to Africa was in the near future. Maybe a different kind of journey is now in store. I really don't take a lot of stock in these computer-generated pithy sayings but back in 1995, on the eve before my ordination, Linda and I were sitting in the little Chinese restaurant in Madison we used to frequent before we married. That night my fortune cookie read: “YOU TAKE A REVERENT ATTITUDE TOWARD LIFE AND ARE MOST CAPABLE IN GUIDING OTHERS.” Divine guidance? I guess that's for the folks who frequent Refuge to decide but I sure find it scintillating. 

A healing service for one

Theoden: [upon being exorcised] Gandalf...

Gandalf: Breathe the free air again, my friend.

Theoden: [stands up from the throne] Dark have been my dreams of late.

[looks at his hands]

Gandalf: Your fingers would remember their old strength better... if they grasped your sword.

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)

“If the enemy can't have you on his side, he'll make sure you're no good to the other. But he doesn't dare attack you openly in case it might rouse you to take some meaningful action against him. So instead he pushes you by slow, calculated degrees toward the darkness. Working from the angle of truth, he gradually distorts it, bit by bit, until you believe nothing but lies. He uses slow poison to weaken your spirit until you are no longer a threat to his kingdom.”

“Such is the case with Wormtongue.”

Walking with Frodo by Sarah Arthur, p. 98

This past Sunday evening, Refuge held a Service of Healing and Wholeness at which only one man showed up to be prayed for. A week or so before I had created a Facebook event page and invited at least 40 of my local friends to the gathering. Last week I posted a press release in our local paper listing the time of the gathering and its purpose. I sent a notice via email to all the participating fellowships in our local ministerial asking my fellow pastors if they could share this with their congregation. And I exhorted the folks who were present at the weekly worship gathering that morning to come and be prayed for and still only one individual arrived a few minutes before the service began in search of prayer. Blame it on the extreme cold. Blame it on the Packer play-off game that this service was attempting to preempt. But whatever the reason, my appeal had clearly fallen on deaf ears.

Noah leading worship at our gathering

We waited another ten minutes or so for any late-comers to straggle in but when they didn't, I gave Noah, the young man from our fellowship whom I had asked to lead worship, the nod to begin. We were a congregation of five – Noah leading us in worship and invoking the presence of the Lord, Ben, the man from our fellowship who had come to receive healing prayer, Troy, one of Refuge's elders who was present to assist me, my wife, Linda, and myself. The sanctuary was essentially empty but the more Noah played, the more it seemed to me that the presence of the Lord filled the place.

About fifteen minutes later, Noah concluded his short worship set and Troy and I circled some chairs around Ben to minister to him. Linda felt inclined to simply pray in the back of the sanctuary while we prayed with Ben directly. At first, Ben was somewhat overcome with emotion. “This is so humbling,” he said. “A service just for me.” Ben has been attending Refuge off and on for a couple of years now. He's a mountain of a man but years of brick-laying have really done a number on his back. But even more painful are the spiritual and emotional wounds he carries from his past.

I anointed him with oil and asked the Holy Spirit to teach us how to pray for our brother and for the next hour or so, we listened and dialogued, prayed and affirmed, read the Word and spoke the truth where our mutual enemy has lied to him about who he is and how God feels about him. Last winter, while out in the Taylor County forest, I unwittingly drove my car up a snowmobile trail and got stuck there. Random snowmobilers could not get me unstuck, AAA refused to come as I was not on a paved road, and my attempts to reach some of the guys at Refuge were a bust. But Ben loaded up his 4-wheeler and drove two and a half hours in the dark to extricate me from my dilemma. I will forever be grateful for his demonstration of love for me. While we prayed for him I recall the mutual feelings of genuine brotherly affection for this man while at the same time being angered at our enemy's attempt to keep this man in bondage to lies and half-truths. Freedom is God's will for our lives and our birthright as younger brothers and sisters of Jesus Christ. “Let my people go!” is still the demand of heaven to any power that seeks to enslave those who belong to God.

When it was over, Ben's face beamed with joy and the three of us shared manly bear-hugs with one another before we went back out into the cold. Later that night he sent me a text that read: “By God's grace my lower back feels better than it has in a while. Not as much pressure. Tonight was inspiring.” Personally, I attribute this to being released from some of the spiritual burdens and guilt he had been carrying for a long time. May the Lord bring release and healing to that part of his back that remains in need of restoration.

Mark 4-5 tell an interesting tale of healing that also centered on one guy. At the end of Mark 4, Jesus and the Twelve are in the boat heading across the Sea of Galilee. They are heading to the “Gentile part” of the lake and suddenly their boat is caught in a squall and nearly swamped. Awoken from deep slumber, Jesus stands up in the boat and in a loud voice tells the sea to “settle down.” Compliantly it does leaving the disciples just a little bit freaked out to be in such close proximity to the man who seems to have at his beck and call the wind and waves.

The beginning part of Mark 5, tells the rest of the story. They have made this foray into “enemy” territory to liberate a man held in bondage to a truckload of demons. He lives alone, a crazed individual, the local version of the “boogie man” whom nearby mothers threaten their children with if they are naughty. A power encounter happens right at the shore of the sea at which time that legion of demons is sent packing into a nearby herd of pigs rooting for grubs. Now filled with the unclean spirits, the pigs are driven mad and careen off the cliff and drown in the sea. When word reaches town of what happened, an angry crowd shows up demanding an accounting for the loss of the pigs. But when they see this formerly demented man “wearing decent clothes and making sense, no longer a walking madhouse of a man” (v. 15) their outrage turns to shock and awe. Who could work such magic to restore this man to sanity?

The townspeople demand that Jesus leave post-haste. They're mad about the pigs but they're even more afraid of the power wielded by the leader of this small band. Maybe if they had struck a different tone Jesus would have stayed for awhile and ministered to others afflicted in their community (and given how many places Jesus had ministered healing for long hours in the Galilee there certainly were others). But not welcome there he and the Twelve load the boat and prepare to return back home. The formerly demonized man begs to join their crew but knowing his ethnicity would compromise his mission, Jesus gives him a task to do:

“As Jesus was getting into the boat, the demon-delivered man begged to go along, but he wouldn’t let him. Jesus said, 'Go home to your own people. Tell them your story—what the Master did, how he had mercy on you.' The man went back and began to preach in the Ten Towns area about what Jesus had done for him. He was the talk of the town.” Mark 5:18-20, Msg

Sometime later, Jesus will return to the area (see Mark 7:31-37) and healings will happen there because some had heard his amazing story and were provoked to seek out the miracle worker for himself.

I'm not disappointed that only Ben showed up Sunday evening to be prayed for. We're a small fellowship, after all, in a town with a number of small fellowships. Everything we do, by comparison, say, to larger communities is small by comparison. But in the Kingdom of God small never means irrelevant or inconsequential. Clearly, it what the Lord had ordered that night. Troy and I wanted to pray for the sick and God sent us someone afflicted in body and spirit to whom we could minister love and grace to. That was worth missing the second half of the Packer-Redskin play-off game and a whole lot more.