Loving Gay Jesus

  Okay, I managed to stay out of the controversy for several days, but finally ran out of patience.  I can't sit by quietly while Christians appear to be so unloving and unChristlike - while thinking they are standing for Christian principles or trying to keep America a "Christian" nation (an urban myth that I wrote about in an earlier blog).

  I'm talking about the whole Chick-fil-A fiasco in which thousands of conservative Christians came out in support of the restaurant owner, Dan Cathy, who came under fire from gays for exercising his First Amendment right to free speech when he made a public declaration of his opposition to gay marriage.  Cathy had also donated millions of dollars to organizations whose main purposes are to oppose gay rights.

  The point that I want to make in this writing is that there is a better way - a more Christlike way - to defend Christian principles, and that is to ask ourselves all over again, "What would Jesus do?" and then thoughtfully and deliberately act on the answer to that question.  Jesus did not judge the sexually immoral in his time; he loved them (Jesus did judge the self-righteous religious leaders of the time).

  In fact, a foundational premise of Christianity is that of love and respect, putting others ahead of ourselves as presented in the Golden Rule and the First and Second Great Commandments.  The Golden Rule says, "Treat others the way you would like to be treated,"(Luke 6:31) and the Great Commandments state, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and mind, and Love your neighbor as yourself."(Matt. 22:37)

  How is it that human nature - and conservative politics - carry us so far from the heart of Christ?  How are followers of Jesus so naturally inclined to behave in ways that are contrary to his commands?  He says, "Do not judge or you will be judged" (Matt. 7:1) yet we think we are helping Christ when we judge gays.  Exactly what he said not to do.  He said, "Love your enemies, do good to those who abuse you, and bless those who curse you," (Luke 6:27-28) yet in our demonstrations of opposition to gay rights, we very clearly convey to every homosexual, "I hate you."

  Let me be clear:  There is not one gay in America who understood the actions of Chick-fil-A supporters as a demonstration of Christian love.

  Now before you "de-friend" me, let me explain how I got where I am.  There are really four people responsible:  Jesus; my parents, Gene and Betty Sims; and my gay brother, the late Ron Sims.

  Ron came out when he was in his thirties and was HIV positive for fourteen years before he died of AIDS at the age of forty-five.  Fourteen years for the Sims family to live with him, react to him, love him.  My parents set the example of Christ for all of us.  In a very conservative household, as a pastor and wife in a very conservative evangelical denomination, they loved him unconditionally.  They met every one of his gay and lesbian friends that he brought to family gatherings.  They shook hands and hugged every partner he lived with.  They traveled hundreds of miles to visit him in his home and befriended all of his companions.  Never once did my folks preach at him; they saw it as unloving, and besides, as a former champion Bible quizzer, he already knew the references by heart.

  And the rest of us followed their example.  All four of his siblings traveled great distances to be next to him on his death bed.  We hugged him, we sang to him, we held his hands until he breathed his last.

  Those attending him were wide-eyed in astonishment.  As hospice workers in a diverse community, they had attended the passing of many gays, but this was the first where a gay man's entire family were at his side, loving on him till the end.  "They always die alone," they told us, "especially the ones from religious families."

Ron Sims,  1954-1999

  And I thought to myself, "Where is the love of God in that?"  Followers of Christ, of all people, born and bred in the church, taught to memorize the Golden Rule on the heels of John 3:16, should be able to summon a little more of the love of Jesus from deep down in their hearts.  That's what Jesus was all about.

  So this is why I have gay friends.  And this is why I have muslim friends (That's another story).  And this is why I stick up for the underdog, and this is why I think twice before signing an online petition or forwarding so-called Christian banners that people tell me are in defense of Christian principles.  Because it seems that in America, sometimes standing up for "Christian principles" means that I have to deny the very heart of Christ.

  

  Yesterday I posted a short comment on Facebook suggesting that if more believing Americans had a gay friend, they would put a lid on the rhetoric.  If you know and love someone who is gay, you will think twice about how your views and your comments affect them.  Mind you, we all have a constitutional right to think and say what we want, but as followers of Christ we don't have the right to hurt another human being.

  What would Jesus do?

* * * * * * * * * * * 

  Okay, I have posted my position on a Christlike response to homosexuals, but let me add some perspective on the issue itself.

  There are a total of 6 verses in the Bible that seem to condemn homosexual activity (none that condemn homosexual orientation), and there are nearly 600 verses that stress caring for the poor and needy.  This tells me that it is a hundred times more important to God that we give our attention to the poor and the needy than to give our attention to making sure that gays know the truth about their sin (Believe me, they already know what we think the Bible says about their sin).

  In Ezekiel 16:49-50 God says to Israel, "Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned: they did not help the poor and needy.  They were haughty and did detestable things before me.  Therefore I did away with them as you have seen."  According to this, Sodom was not destroyed because of homosexuality but because of arrogance and a lack of concern for the poor and needy.

  I think this describes many American Christians today:  Arrogant toward gays, overfed (America is officially the "fattest" nation in the world), and unconcerned about the poor and needy.

  If the Ezekiel passage expresses God's priorities, the prophets among us should be blaming our selfish selves rather than the gays the next time a destructive hurricane or earthquake wipes out a sector of our wealth and real estate.

* * * * * * * * * * * 

  BTW, my title "Loving Gay Jesus" comes from my understanding of Matthew 25:40.  "I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me."  Jesus identifies himself with the oppressed, not with the religious.  We should do the same.

  If you don't have any gay friends, I suggest you find some.  Do your best to befriend a gay - at least friend some on Facebook - before the end of this year.  It will change the way you think and talk and behave with them and about them.  Actually, you may not have to look very far; they are probably right under your nose but would not dare come out until they feel they are safe with you.  That means you'll have to tone it down a bit.    Thank you!


 The President of the Barna Group, David Kinnaman, in his book, unChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks About Christianity... and Why It Matters, says that most 16 to 29-year-old Americans see Christians as: 1) Anti-Gay, 2) Judgmental, 3) Hypocritical.  I see this as harmful to the true cause of Christ and intend to do my personal best to change this perception to something closer to what Christ intended.

  

The Win-Win of Church Splits

  I can't believe I'm writing this.  Probably my mom can't either, as well as my brother who is a pastor in the Missionary Church, and a lot of my friends who are still in the church. The title alone is enough to raise the ire of church folks everywhere.   Oh, well, that hasn't stopped me before, so here I go, publishing my unpopular opinions and then letting people love me anyway.

  This post is actually a challenge of sorts to the previous post, "Thin Walls", in which I condemned the denominational and political walls that have dismembered the Body of Christ over the centuries.  This time I am saying that divisions can be good, that they serve an essential service in the Kingdom.

  Here's the thing: human nature.  Or maybe personality types, or even spiritual gifts.  What I'm talking about is the variety of people that exists in the world and in the church:  People who get bored easily and initiate change for the sake of change, and those who resist change.  People who welcome the presence and work of the Holy Spirit, and those who resist the Spirit.  People who love noisy, animated worship, and those who retreat in quiet meditation.  People who enjoy expose' and exegetic preaching, and those who can't wait for the small group so they can finally ask questions and enter the conversation.  Evangelists, and administrators.  And so on.

  It's a good thing there are different scenarios, different styles, different types of church settings, because there are so many kinds of people.  A virtual smorgasbord of worship settings exists in America, a plethora of flavors and colors.  And that's good.

  Because birds of a feather will just normally flock together.  Naturally.  That is, in harmony with the God-given nature that is within them.  This results in harmony for everybody.  Because if very different species of birds are forced to co-habitate, there can be squabbles and even violence.  That's just the way it is.

  Okay, a personal story here.  I was active in the same church all of my adult life and held various positions of leadership as a volunteer within the church.  But on random occasions during that time, I experienced resistance and even opposition to my efforts from others in the body.  My ideas were shot down, my actions were questioned, and my individuality was challenged.  My friends of the same unconventional feather noticed the same natural phenomenon.

  It happens everywhere.  Most of the time I didn't take it personally - even when it was intended to be personal, in which case I would pretend it wasn't.  It was simply different people operating within their own sets of gifts, personality types and personal preferences.

  But a chasm started to open within the church body, a gap between two large groups who held very different values.  And over twenty-five years the gap widened.

  One group placed a high value on outreach.  They were people-minded.  They stressed missions and community service and love for all.  And they would disregard sacred practices of the church to embrace the needy, whether inside or outside the congregation (i.e: they might spend their tithe money on car repairs for a needy neighbor and then not have it to put in the offering).  They were inspired by movements and champions of movements like Frank Tillapaugh and Kennan Callahan.*  I started calling them the Progressives.

  The other group were Traditionalists.  They placed a high value on structure.  The buildings and property were important to them.  The doctrines of Wesleyan evangelicalism were sacred to them, and familiar programs were set in stone.  "If it worked in the last century it will work today!"  They  didn't just resist change, they stood in the way of progress.

  Finally, a progressive and well-loved pastor who was seen as the champion of an organic  movement was forced to leave the church.  For no good reason, except that the traditionalists, who had been outnumbered for twenty years, were momentarily in control of the governing board.  And the result was a church split.  The progressives had finally reached their limit of patience with the road-blocking traditionalists, and 150 of them left all at once.  The church went from 225 to 75 almost overnight.

  It was a dizzying exodus, and my head was spinning for months after as I tried to figure out what had happened.  The perennial peacemaker and an elder at the time, I had worked harder than anyone to keep the place together, sacrificing my reputation in the process.

  But I was obviously a progressive, and I was made aware that, not only were my ideas not welcome there anymore, neither was my presence.  One of the other elders told me to give it up; "You guys lost," he said.  My response was, "We all lost; there was no winner here."  Six months after the mass exodus, my wife and I reluctantly exited too, amid turmoil and pain, much of her family remaining at the church.  

  But we are loving it now, and I've changed my tune; I no longer believe there were any losers in this parting of the ways.  Three years after the split we see what a wonderful place we are in, a place of freedom in a land of opportunity.  We will never go back to working within the walls.  Here's what's good about this church split and why we are thankful that it happened:

  1. The Traditionalists have their church back the way it was 40 years ago, the way they like it.  They have put thousands of dollars into improving the property and buildings and installing air conditioning, they have re-instated old programs and practices, and their familiar doctrines and orthodoxies are unquestioned and unthreatened within the walls.  Remember, structure is their highest value.

  2.  The Progressives, who had talked and dreamed of engaging the culture in more organic, incarnational ways but whose efforts were often blocked, have now moved outside the walls of the church and are pursuing their dreams and visions with excitement and energy. Most of them are meeting in one of several small house groups... or in the park, or at the ice cream shop, or at the ballgame.  There's nobody to tell them not to.  Remember, their highest value is people.

  3. Everybody's happy.  It was a win-win situation for both groups and continues so.

  I have concluded that as long as we are unified by our belief in Jesus, birds of a different feather may be better off not flocking together.  So there will be options for everybody.  If you like tradition you have options, and if you want to try something new, you will find a place to belong as well.  Different strokes for different folks.

  That's the nature of it.  Take a look at any school playground and you'll see that from a very young age, humans will naturally cluster with others who are like themselves.  Birds of a feather.  That's our God-given nature.  That's the way it is.

*Frank Tillapaugh wrote Unleashing the Church, defining and criticizing what he called "the fortress mentality" of exclusiveness in the church culture. (Regal Books, 1982)
 Kennan Callahan wrote Effective Church Leadership, in which he explained that America was a post-churched culture where effective leaders should see their local churches as mission outposts, not fortresses. (Jossey-Bass, 1989)
 Also see The Shaping of Things to Come, by Alan Hirsch and Michael Frost, in which they analyze the Life Cycle of a Church, the focus of a church being on people in the growth stage, and on structure in the declining stage. (Hendrickson Publishers, 2003)
  
  

Thin Walls

Our 1978 Jayco

  Our camper has really thin walls, maybe 2 inches thick at most.  Recreational vehicles are designed to be as light as possible for the most efficient towing and touring.  We've been on the gypsy road for a while now and have found that thin walls are a blessing in more ways than one.  The first, of course, is that when we are climbing the long and winding hills of west Michigan, I'm thankful that the trailer doesn't weigh any more than it's registered 4,400 pounds.  The old Dodge pickup is a workhorse that doesn't mind the load.
  But another thin wall for which I am thankful is the vanishing generation gap that got so much publicity a few decades ago but seems to be diminishing as observers like David Kinnaman* point out in recent studies.  One characteristic that today's young adults seem to have in common is the inclination to engage in conversation.  They don't seem to be the least bit interested in listening to a sermon or a lecture; there is definitely still a solid wall there.  But they are drawn to real discussion, and they'll talk openly about almost any subject, even religion, if there's good-natured dialogue and an absence of criticism.

Street musicians in Grand Rapids

  Kaye and I experienced the reality of this first hand in downtown Grand Rapids, Michigan, last week when we came across a band of young street musicians occupying a square of sidewalk near the Blues on the Mall event.
  I have found that the camera is an automatic invitation for people to engage in conversation, and I had been shooting artists and bystanders and classic car owners and getting a smile and a welcoming nod from each one.  People love having their pictures taken.  As I was sitting on the sidewalk shooting these musicians, Christina approached Kaye and started talking.  She talked about her friends and what they were doing there, and Kaye talked about our new wayfaring lifestyle and the home we had left, and there didn't seem to be the least bit of a wall between them, generational or otherwise.  Christina didn't seem to notice that we were old enough to be her grandparents and it didn't matter.  It was a delightful and refreshing experience.  The two exchanged email addresses, and when we arrived back at camp there was already a message waiting from Christina.

Musicians Steven and Christina

  And that brings me back to an unfortunate thought about the walls of denominationalism that have divided the Body of Christ for so many centuries.  I don't believe that these walls are God-ordained in the slightest but are man-made.  And it seems to me that while the walls are thinning in some places as with young people - if we are really willing to engage them, the walls are thickening in other places.
  Walls of politics are growing even within the church.  The conservatives battle the liberals, the Republicans malign the Democrats, and the evangelicals demonize the main-liners for their proverbial slippery slope (Curse that  slippery slope!)  Doctrinal walls continue to be shored up and strengthened with every secular or theological "threat" that presents itself.  Hate rises while Love Wins.
  At its last general conference the Missionary Church shored up its doctrinal walls by adopting a statement rejecting Open Theism.  And the denominational walls thickened.
  If we ever expect to engage the current culture, we must move the other way.  Damn the walls.  Tear them down.  For God's sake let's get along.  A generation depends on it.
  As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord by seeking to tear down walls by cutting the theological crap, as it were, and putting people first.
  People are more important than doctrinal stuff.  Always.


What methods have you seen implemented for thinning or removing the walls that separate people?


*David Kinnaman, the head of the Barna Group, refers to 16 to 29-year-olds as Mosaics in his book, Unchristian, What a New Generation Really Thinks about Christianity ... and Why It Matters.

The Bumpy Road to Adventure

  If you are seeking adventure, your life of convenience may become a curse and work against you.  At least if you are the typical American who has enjoyed a lifetime in the hammock of easy-come affluence, comfort and space.  Indoor plumbing is an essential component of life in the Western world, even though it's only about 100 years old here.  A hot shower every day is still unheard of in much of the rest of the world.  If you want to pursue adventure, this convenient lifestyle is a major obstacle.
  Kaye and I have traversed a convoluted maze in our journey out of the commonplace.  We reached retirement age still owing a considerable mortgage.  It wasn't that we didn't have a plan, it's that our plan failed.  Taking an early retirement from school teaching after 27 years, I started a log home construction business with a mobile crew that traveled all over lower Michigan to build new log homes, a specialized service that filled a narrow niche in the industry.  It was a genius plan that lasted eight years.  The only problem was that the production costs were high and the profit margin was small or non-existent on some projects.  It was a lot of fun, but left us with virtually the same amount of debt we started with.  Then Michigan's housing market collapsed and so did my business.
  We had a great piece of property and tried every which way to make it pay for itself.  We grew Christmas trees and sold thousands of them over two decades but found that the income wouldn't offset the expenses, since the money all came in during a two-week period in December but the costs accumulated year round.
  The large house we had built on a 32-acre estate had been ideal for raising our family and a raft of foster kids and foreign exchange students, but eventually the kids had left for college and distant jobs, and now the two of us were rambling around in a big house on a big property with a big heating bill and a big mortgage.  And lots of mowing.  Acres and acres of mowing.
  The place lent itself to retreats as it had two logs cabins and wild woods and meadows. We hosted church youth groups and conducted paintball games drawing scores of young adventurers.  Still the buildings were empty most of the time and costing us more money than they could possibly bring in.
  We decided to sell.  But the housing market was still pulverized and wouldn't be improving any time soon.  Potential buyers came but couldn't borrow the money needed to purchase.  We tried to divide the property to make it more affordable, but the township denied the split.

We just moved from our 10-room house to a one-room cabin.

  Finally, after 40 years in the big house, we reluctantly agreed to move out and bring in renters.  Risky for sure.  And we put a renter in one of the log cabins.  Then we moved into the other log cabin- a dry cabin (no plumbing), putting most of our furniture in storage, and using the travel trailer for water and hot showers.  And we are hitting the road next week with the trailer, finally enjoying some of the freedom we have been looking for all this time.  The forever camping life is upon us.  Illusive adventure has arrived.
  But I started out saying convenience is a curse if one wants to seek adventure.  Here's what we have discovered to be hindrances to getting free:

•   Smelling nice.  If we didn't all have to smell nice, we wouldn't need to use as much precious water.  This includes showers, laundry, clean dishes, and of course, flushing the toilet.  Do you have any idea how often Americans flush the toilet every day?  Keep track sometime and you'll be amazed.  When you are staying in an RV where the sewage goes into a holding tank that has to be emptied somewhere, this is no small consideration.  Every flush has a trade-off, and it's a stinky one.
•   Memories and other stuff.  Downsizing is nigh unto impossible when every little keepsake takes up space.  Not just the old photographs, but what about the china cabinet that's been in the family for generations?  It's hard to view it as junk and sell it in a yard sale.  Is it worth renting space to keep it?  This decision has to be made for a thousand items.  Thank God for the thrift store.  But Americans feel entitled to their stuff whether it's memorabilia, hobbies, collections or whatever.
•   Excessive space.  Now that I live in a small cabin and tiny RV, I feel like I occupied more than my share of space before.  Americans consume more of the earth's resources than our global neighbors and feel we are entitled to it; it's the American way.  We'll even go to war to keep oil prices within reason so our tradition is not compromised in any way.  Now I feel uncomfortable taking up more space than one person deserves, American or not.  A 10-room house for two of us?  I don't think so. But this was a tough one for us, because we were accustomed to entertaining all the kids and grandkids at Christmas time- we had plenty of room for it, and we had to relinquish this tradition.  This expensive tradition.  Tough.
•   Lawns and all kinds of property maintenance.  What is this fetish that Americans have with their lawns?  Weed it and feed it so it will grow faster so you'll have to mow it more often.  Huh?  I think it's mostly about competition.  Having the nicest lawn on the block.  Fortunately, our new renters have a couple of large mowers and are responsible for the greater share of the lawn mowing- it's part of the rental contract.  I'm a genius.  I consider lawn mowing as part of the curse; Adam sinned and was banished from the garden where nature took care of everything, and he's been mowing ever since.  I'm kidding; really green lawns are an American thing.  If you travel much you will notice the absence of lawns in much of the world.
•   Debt.  It's a monkey on your back.  And it's hard to cavort with a monkey on your back.

    So it is that our property, which served us so efficiently for so many years (and we served it too) became a ball-and-chain for us later in life.  We had so much space that we thoughtlessly brought stuff into the house and onto the premises for 40 years only to have it bite us in the butt at the end.  So. Much. Stuff.  Downsizing means you have to deal with all of that stuff.
  Ultimately, you're not going to take it with you.  You can't.  Not in a 24-foot travel trailer, not in a 6-foot coffin.
  So deal with it.  Now.  Or it will keep you rooted and prevent you from realizing the adventure you may someday seek.  This thought has been my motivator lately.

Our cozy little cabin interior.

  Disclaimer:  Not everybody seeks adventure.  In fact, Americans are programmed to pursue security and comfort from the time they are young and are taught to do well in school so they can go to the right college so they can have the right job with the right income so they can be secure and raise their families to do the same, hopefully in the same hometown.  Adventure is not thought of as a  lifestyle but a weekend pursuit with a boat or a four-wheeler (which has to be paid for by working overtime).
  On the other hand, life comes in stages, and during the family years when the kids are at home, a sense of security or roots can be important- and it is not impossible to weave a sense of adventure into the fabric of those years as well.  It's an adventure to bring foster kids into your home and to own a paintball field and a ropes course.  But for us, later on those elements became maintenance and monetary burdens.


  What stage of life are you in now?  Do you need security or adventure?  Or both?

Love Wins, I Can Breathe Now

  Last week at a restaurant in Grand Ledge, Michigan, I talked with another church refugee, a retired steelworker named Tim who spoke of a spiritual journey that was characterized by perpetual fear.  As young boys he and his twin brother had been adopted by a stiff Baptist woman and her husband, and her modus operandi for raising children was to instill the fear of God in them at an early age.  And then hold that thought for a lifetime.  
  Down through the years Tim was always afraid.  Afraid of doing anything wrong.  "I felt like if I even brought a pencil home from work and didn't return it, I would go to hell," he told me, and in his eyes I could almost see that look of worry returning even as he shared his experiences with me.
  But things had changed for him later in life, and I asked him what made the difference.  Without a word he pointed at his wife, Carol.  She was actually his second wife, who he had married in his late forties, and she brought with her grace and confidence in the Lord that he had not seen before.  Her family was conservative evangelical as well, but there was an abiding sense of acceptance and peace in that family, and lots of love.  And it seemed to carry over, or carry down, if you will, from a source not only deep within them, but also from somewhere above.  
  Though Tim's life has been slowly evolving from a sense of condemnation to a place of acceptance by God and the people closest to him, the journey has taken awhile.  The most recent additive that really boosted his sense of spiritual well-being was his reading of Rob Bell's book, Love Wins.*
  "I feel like I can breathe now," he told me, and a look of enthusiastic relief crossed his face as he recalled Bell's ideas about heaven and the great love of God from this popular new book.  "We are now invited to live a whole new life without guilt or shame or blame or anxiety.  We are going to be fine," says Bell (Love Wins, p. 172), and Tim looks like he finally believes it.
  Coming away from my conversation with Tim I felt a sense of relief for him and the growing numbers of exiles who have left a land of emotional and spiritual imprisonment perpetuated by a judgmental religious empire.  I recall the words of my friend after visiting the traditional conservative church that we had left awhile earlier saying, "The guards are still there, but the prisoners have left!"  Wow, that says it.
  But there are still multitudes left within those walls.  Why is it that so many continue to live their entire lives under Old Testament law, when Christ's freedom is waiting for them?  One of my favorite stories that depicts the contrast between the Law and Grace is the one about the woman who was caught in the act of adultery and brought to Jesus (John 7).  Those who wanted to stone her had the Law on their side.  And Jesus, as God, had the power and authority to order her to be stoned to death.  But he didn't condemn her.  He had the right to, but he didn't.  Grace prevailed.
  And I think that's the difference that Tim has discovered between living under the Law or living under Grace.  God has the right to condemn us, but because of Christ and the cross, mercy prevails.

Tim & Carol

  Now Tim's going to hold that thought.  For a lifetime.  Because love wins, he can breathe now.




* Rob Bell, Love Wins, A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived. 2011, Harper Collins Publishers
  
  
  

A Pacifist's Memorial Day

  This weekend is Memorial Day weekend, and I'm glad I won't be going to church.  It's not that I'm protesting anything, because I rarely attend church anyway, but at this time of year I'm keenly aware of the discomfort that a pacifist experiences while attending Memorial Day services in any conservative congregation in America.  After all, many conservative Christians in this country equate love for God with love for country.
  So I am proposing an alternative memorial to those who have made the ultimate sacrifice, not for their country, but for the Lord and the lost of the world: Christian missionaries and martyrs.  For all Christians there exists a greater purpose than defending national freedoms, for there exists a greater Kingdom than any worldly kingdom or nation.  
  When do Christian martyrs get their day of tribute?  What day is set aside for honoring missionaries who sacrifice their entire lives in obscure god-forsaken jungles and ghettos for the sake of a higher calling?  What parades march through town with banners and firetrucks and marching bands in honor of their supreme sacrifice?  I know of none.
  Now I'm not about to organize a parade or a picnic or to enlist the local marching band to rally, but in my own small way, I will see that the unsung heroes of the faith will have my appreciation and my respect this weekend, even as I am honoring the soldiers and troops who have given all for their country.
  When I see Old Glory being paraded down the street this weekend I will remember not only fallen American soldiers, but also my late Aunt Esther, who invested her life in an obscure village in Sierra Leone, Africa, as a medical missionary.  I will salute Nate Saint, Jim Elliot, and the other young men who were slaughtered by the Auca Indians in Ecuador whom they were determined to reach with the gospel.  I'll remember missionary Graham Staines and his two young boys, trapped in his car and burned alive by Hindu fundamentalists in India in 1999.  I will breathe a prayer of thanks for my own daughter and son-in-law who were sent into hiding and frantically evacuated from India dodging roadblocks under cover of darkness after receiving violent threats from Hindu extremists.  I will think of the thousands of believers over the centuries who have lived and died under tyrants who have sought to wipe out Christianity from the face of the earth.
  Don't get me wrong here.  I don't disrespect the sacrifices that American troops have made for their country and our freedom.  I just think there should be equal time for those who have answered an even higher calling... and who have given their lives for their Lord and His kingdom.
  Your local pastor is not likely to observe my new Memorial Day tribute in the church services this Sunday.  But you, my readers, can join me in this quiet observance that honors multitudes of Christian martyrs and missionaries the world over.  When you see a flag waving this weekend, remember those who have sacrificed everything for the Lord, think about that missionary you know who has endured lifelong hardship and risk, and pray God will raise up one more generation of prayer warriors and people-lovers who, without any fanfare or flag-waving, will continue the global mission. 

Saying the Amens

The Fireside Room at Hidden Hollows

  Some of our favorite people just left the room, and I felt a loud Amen.  I didn't hear it audibly, but I was aware of it nonetheless.   It was the last meeting of our house church group to be held in this, our house of 40 years.  We are moving out before the next meeting two weeks from now, so a chapter of our lives is drawing to a close.  Amen.
  At the end of every formal gathering of the church there is often a benediction, sometimes in the form of a blessing, and the end of the benediction is punctuated with an "Amen".  It is a stamp of approval, a "so-be-it" that adds affirmation and finality to what just took place.
  So I am experiencing this sweet Amen as our friends drive away from our front door for the last time.  Our own kids drove away years ago and found careers and new friends who turned into spouses in places farther west.  Amen.
  After hosting foster kids for 17 years, we said goodbye to the last of them a few years ago as they waddled out the door dragging their black garbage bags filled with their few belongings.  Amen.
  Five foreign exchange students from Russia, France, Brazil, Costa Rica and Columbia came and went.  Amen.
  Three successful businesses that were headquartered here have recently closed.  Amen.
  Several ministries centered here, from a retreat center to a mini-monastery, have run their course.  Satisfying Amen.
  The "Missions" posters that covered the walls of the fireside room are being distributed to whomever would like them, so the wall is half empty now.  Gratifying Amen.
  The pantry door under the stairs is closed now where the girls used to use the pencil sharpener that was there and then jot a note on the walls and undersides of the stairway:  "I am satan's personal nightmare! Signed, Wendi Lee Sims, June 7, 1992".  Nostalgic Amen.
  Three years ago we were dismissed from our lifelong local congregation where we were made aware that we were no longer welcome.  Our views did not conform, we no longer fit.  Thirty-five years of youth work, missions trips, and worship leading ended unceremoniously.  Gut-wrenching Amen.
  Books, keepsakes, surplus office supplies and well-worn furniture are all being re-assigned to friends and family and the "keepers" put into storage for the next place we might live.  Exhausting Amen.
  This big old house has emptied out and is now too large for two people, especially during the long Michigan winters where living space has to be heated for seven months of the year.  We are hitting the road in a few days, following that wind that I spoke of in an earlier blog (See "The Holy Spirit of Adventure"), so our Amens are not unhappy ones if a bit wistful.
  When we drive away from here we also drive toward the next good destination.  Off to see the world, so to speak, in an old camper, finally pursuing our recent quest to hang out with sinners for awhile, having spent our entire first 60 years hanging out mostly with fellow believers.      Finally being the salt of the earth.
  Before we both have to say life's final Amen, we're going to have some fun in some new places!  All fun is God's fun. (Huh?)
  Amen and amen!
  
  We are excited to be heading toward the next new adventure, and that is helping us to say the necessary Amens to the past.  What Amens have you had to say in life (leave something or draw it to a close), and were they positive or negative experiences?