What Are We Doing

   While seeing the film, “Paul, the Apostle,” I began to pray and ask the Lord what he wanted me to do.  I was so heart broken by the events of his life and the lives of the Christians during the time of Nero, that I questioned in my own mind “What are we doing?”  Today, what are we Christians doing?  As I stopped at the restroom, while leaving the theatre, I spoke to a very nice woman, as we were washing and drying our hands, and asked her the same question, “What are we, today’s Christians, doing?  Are we willing to risk everything, including our lives, to live out our faith?” She appeared to be as concerned as I.  As it turned out, she and her husband are in ministry to those in a nursing home.  I later met him, too. 

     What I have noticed in our world today is a lot of back-biting, criticizing, and watered-down messages, in far too many of our churches.  Who cares what the numbers are or how magnificent the building, if the message preached waters down the gospel and the Bible becomes a ‘nice book to have around?’  Are we teaching the full text, or do we stop at Jesus loves you?  What happens when troubles come?  Persecution?  Do we teach so that members can search scripture to answer questions that inevitably come?  Do we allow others to find the Lord and cling to Him in a way not like our own?  How do we stack up against the early Christians?   

     Sitting here trying to get my thoughts in order, I am amazed that the Lord loves me at all.  I have failed Him so often.  I am so very grateful that each time He brings me up short, He shows me mercy.  I, too, lay claim to be the greatest sinner of all time.  How often I have failed and sinned against the One who saved me by His grace, only to be allowed, once more, to come into His presence.  So, again the question, “What am I doing?”  How do I repay this magnificent gift?  How do I share with others all that He means to me?  Witness?  Exactly what is witnessing?  Be salt and light?  What does this mean, specifically?  How do I help hurting people, like those in Syria, and Christians in the middle east?  How do I help hurting people here in this country?  This state?  This county?  This city?  My family?  My church family?  How do I show Christ to this hurting world? 

     I bulk at “going out witnessing.”  Not sure why this troubles me, exactly.  Does knocking on doors and sharing the gospel constitute witnessing?  Does approaching strangers on the street or in a mall constitute witnessing?  Is this what the Lord did?  Did He not draw men to Himself?  How did He do that?  Doing good? 

     What about being the salt and light?  How can we be sprinkled out and shown abroad?  How do we make things tastier and brighter?  Don’t we have to ‘dig in’ and mix with those around us and allow Christ to shine through us?  Now, that sounds good, right?  But, exactly how is this done?  If I recall correctly, our Christ was often seen with sinners, and I do not recall Him ever condemning them. 

     A thought/a memory just emerged.  I searched for years, nearly thirty, before I came face to face, so to speak, with our risen Lord.  I searched many churches but did not find Him.  And, then one day, a knock sounded on my door.  My children were invited to ride a bus to Sunday School, and I agreed.  My children were the ones who invited me to join them, eventually.  Is this how the Lord drew me to Himself?

     I had visited several different churches over the 30 years of my life, not knowing for what I was looking, but knew I was not finding it.  I never felt welcomed.  Never!  When my first son was born and died within the first 12 hours, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I could not ask a Catholic priest to do his service because they believed he was not going into the presence of God.  I knew he was.  I still had not had a personal experience with the living God, but I knew He was loving.  How did I know this?  Why was I so sure of His love for my son?  Where did I get that strong belief?  I didn’t even know how to pray.  All I had for myself were yearnings for this God that I knew existed.

     Another memory:  I attended my friend Wanda’s baptism, at her request, after graduation.  As the minister was baptizing her, I saw a bright light… I was drawn to near tears.  After talking with her, she had not seen the light.  Was I seeing things?

     I have been reading the book “The Way Back” by Paul Cooke and Jonathan Bock.  There is a statement in the book that has me asking more questions.  “To surrender is our heart admitting our weakness.  To accept is our ego demanding the illusion of still being in charge.”  Their premise is to accept the Lord is similar to signing for a FedEx package, whereas, to surrender to the living Lord is to devote ourselves to His cause.  Surrender is an all-encompassing word.  Do we (I) fully surrender our lives to Him?  If so, Does He have full control?  Are we holding something back?  How do we know when we are fully surrendered?  Have modern Christians watered down the gospel?  Are baby Christians suffering because of this possibility?  Are they left lacking knowledge?  What part do we play in bringing the needy to Jesus?  How do we do this?  Are we really, truly involved in this great commission? How do we partake?  What is my part?  Your part?

     When we are shut within the walls of our church, are we really reaching the world?  As we sit in the chairs or pews and listen as our minister teaches, are we reaching out?  I cannot help but remember the years I spent looking for a “place” to fit in, and the silence from members I received.  Names are important!  A hand shake is nice, but names are important.  Two or three minutes of “turn around and find someone you don’t know” does not allow for learning names.  Looking into the eyes of an individual and truly welcoming him or her is vital.  How often do we see someone in the foyer or hallway and, in passing, say “How are You?” never stopping to hear the answer.  Are we sincere?  Did our Lord ever meet someone in “passing” and continue without connecting?  What are we doing?  Why do we live life in such a rush?

     How many times have we heard, “People do not care about what you know, until they know how much you care?”  What are we teaching those coming into the ‘fold’ when we separate into groups:  the haves, the have nots; young people and old people; new Christians and seasoned Christians; minister’s inner circle, those on the outside?  Are

we not all in the body of Christ? 

     Earlier today I heard an excerpt of the message the minister of the Royal Wedding gave.  A message heard by millions!    “Love is the answer for all that ails our world: poverty, hunger, homelessness, anger, war, misunderstandings…”  So, are we, the church, loving as Christ loved.  Do we fill our hearts, days, actions, and thoughts with love, both individually and as the body of Christ?

     Because we are human, we are prone to messing up, but do we too often use the “I’m only human” excuse to brush over our lack of love and involvement?   Or, is it our busyness that might keep us from loving and ministry?

     I will never forget my first pastor, Brother Samuelson.  He was the most loving and giving pastor I have ever had.  The year my mother was ill with terminal cancer, he and his family did not take their usual Christmas trip.  I later discovered he did not want to be out of town should I need him.  That is really what one might say is the love of Christ expressed.  How many of us, today, would love like this?  That was over forty years ago, and I have not seen nor heard of another like him.

     In 1986, when my oldest living son died when he lost control of the jeep he was driving, and it rolled over on him, my pastor at that time stood on my front porch and told me he did not believe Johnny would be in heaven because Johnny had left his church to attend another.  Now, that was despicable!  So was my answer to him, “Brother Tanner, if Johnny did not make heaven, neither you nor I stand a snowball’s chance in hell.”  Was that loving as Christ loved?  Again, what are we doing? 

     Again, in 1997, when my eighteen old son Booger was killed in an automobile accident, I called the church I was attending, and at which I volunteered, and never received a call back.  I was not the only member of my family to call for the pastor, but we never received a call.  I had to ask the pastor of a church in our small community if we might use his church for Booger’s service.  He was so kind and allowed my request.  I called a Pastor friend from Houston and asked him to preach Booger’s service.  But, again, what are we doing?  In either of these painful situations, where was the love of Christ?  To be honest, my family and I saw it in the lives of those within our community.  They loved on us and walked with us through our grief.  That was where we saw the love of Christ on display… not in those of our church family.   Why are we Christians failing in our expression of HIS love?

     I have been idle for many days.  That is definitely my fault.  The very loving and giving minister of my hometown, has been relocated to heaven.  It came as quite a shock to everyone who knew him.  A year or so ago, he was asked to leave the church in my hometown.  Many felt he was too old and didn’t teach as he once did.  He left and began another in a community, not too far away.  He was welcomed with opened arms and continued preaching until the Lord called him home.  So, was his dismissal done in love?  Need?

     A beautiful young mother has been relieved of her position at the church I am attending, presently.  The reason given was she is not qualified to do all that was asked of her.  But, as we have found out recently, she is more than qualified.  She does have the certificates needed.   So, why the dismissal?  Where in this was love exhibited?

Was Christ glorified in this?  Does He appreciate seeing family members leaving the family?  Is division the answer?  What are we doing?  Why are we doing it?  Is Christ being glorified in our actions?

     A few days ago, my brother officiated the wedding of his beautiful granddaughter.  Now, Richard is not a minister, he is a deacon.  He took the time to become licensed because the minister and friend the groom had asked told him he would be glad to perform the service for $500.00.  WHAT?  Where is the love of God in that response?  What are Christians doing in this world today?  Is our heavenly Father pleased with all the ungodly trash filtering into our churches?   Do we even come close to what our God wants of us?  What are we doing?  How do we find our way back?

     I spoke to a friend yesterday, and during the conversation I learned that she and her family have not been in church for a couple of months.  They had left the church I attend because there was no group or person with whom her husband could relate.  He is a veteran of the War on Terror with many health issues.  The church they had moved to has no

place for neither her husband nor her daughter.  Both felt out of place, so they stopped going.  She has no desire to return to Fellowship, so they will visit another this Sunday.  What are we doing?  I have heard for years that the church is to be a hospital for the wounded, but how is this possible, if we are driving people away by our actions or inactions?  People are hurting!  What are we doing?  Why can we not just love one another? 

     Last week a well-known denomination voted to remove gender from their prayers.  It is unclear whether or not they will remove gender from the scripture.  Is it any wonder why it, far too often, appears as if our nation is no longer blessed, as it once was?  We have forgotten our foundation.  Are we receiving a wakeup call?  May God be merciful!  May He show us just exactly what we are doing and give us room for repentance.  His grace is sufficient, if we accept it and live it out.  Father, help us know exactly what we are doing or should be doing.

Childhood Christmas Memory

For unknown reasons, memories of a Christmas long ago have flooded my mind.  Perhaps it is the time of the year, the Christmas music playing, the decorations, or a combination of all the above, but the Christmas when I learned that Santa Claus was, in fact, not real came to mind.  Missing Tony has probably added to the memory rising up.

I was four or five, and Tony would have been nine or ten.  We had been sent to bed to await the arrival of Santa.  I had already fallen asleep when Tony came into the room and proceeded to shake me awake.  "Come here.  I want to show you something," he was whispering.  I just wanted to turn over and go back to sleep, but he insisted.  "I want to show you that Santa Claus is not real."  Stumbling I got out of bed and followed him to  the closet, and upon him opening it, I saw all sorts of items, some in bags or boxes, others not.  He then grabbed my hand and took me to the top of the stair case.  We walked down a few steps, just enough to allow us to look into the living room.  There was Mom decorating the tree!  Oh, no!  Santa always decorated our tree, but there was Mom doing it.
"See, I told you!  Now, do you believe me?"  I left him there without saying a word and went back to bed.  My young mind did not want to believe this, but there it was.

In the morning, we were awakened to see what 'Santa' had brought; I never let on that Tony had ruined the day for me.  We did not wrap gifts at that time, so I looked at each gift that was mine--eleven dolls, a dish set, and a table and chairs.  (I had many, many aunts and uncles.)  We had breakfast and I went to dress for outside.  I then went door to door, in our immediate neighborhood.  That was two long buildings that housed six apartments each.  I wanted to see what my friends had received.  Most in those eleven other apartments had received nothing, or very little.  By noon, I had given nine dolls away.  I kept two: one from Aunt Rosemary and the one Richard had picked up and threw across the living room, the little "brat."  LOL  He was two or three at the time, and he had not gotten a doll!

To this day, I do not know why Tony felt the need to reveal that little bit of information.  But, because of it, I did all I could to keep the myth alive for Richard.  I kept the doll Aunt Rosemary had given to me until we moved to Rio Hondo.  I gave the doll to Patsy Stokes' little sister.

I love Christmas!  I love the anticipation and memories it bring.  I, truly, love the kindness that fills the air.  Realizing why we celebrate has brought much joy.  For God so loved the world...  May each and everyone enjoy this season and remember the real reason for the season.