by J. Christian Andrews
February 24, 2012
He brought us forth by the word of truth
It was either Buffy or Jody, twins in the TV show Family Affair, who found the black and white 8x10 glossies of 15 year old Cissy. We were not given full view of these photos, but it was clear that Cissy had taken off her clothes for the shots. The discovery of Cissy's racy pictures forced Uncle Bill to deal with a tough issue and help his charges with a life lesson.
I don't remember how the lesson played out, but I do remember my introduction into the world of explicit photography. We were watching the show, one of the few that we were allowed to watch late, as a family; and it was up to Mom to explain to us that what Cissy had done was wrong. I was in 5th grade. It wasn't until I was in the 7th or 8th grade that the tempter once again struck with that same temptation. This time the lie came through the young men who frequented our home, and it may even have been on a Saturday evening when the young people of the church gathered for their weekly youth meeting. The black and white photos were small, smaller than palm sized, and clearly sexual in content. I knew what they were and that they were being passed around; but plead as I may, they were kept from me. That I never got a clear view doesn't matter. That my desires were aroused does.
I suppose there is come solace in knowing it is "every man's battle," but knowing this truth does not mitigate the consequences. What we all need to learn, regardless of the temptation--because we do all have them--is that there are consequences to our obedience to the temptation, even dire and eternal consequences. Pastor Paul reminds us that 'each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.'
Thankfully, to this law there is gospel. The bad news is that sin brings death. The good news is that the word of truth brings life. The Father of lights 'of his own will...brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures.' The Word is the Word made flesh, Jesus, God incarnate. The Word is also GodÕs Word written and preserved by the Holy Spirit. The firstfruits are the first born as Elder John wrote, 'But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.'
February 18, 2012
we refuse to tamper with God's word
Sometime along the way, I had a librarian put new book-quality binding tape on the spine and retape the covers. Inscribed in Mom's handwriting in Spanish on the end-sheet inside the front cover are these words: Presented to Joel Andrews as second prize in the Bible contest, 9th of April 1966. I am spoiled by a great variety of translations and paraphrases to chose from, but this 1960 edition of La Santa Biblia is still my favorite even if it was the second prize in that contest.
I was eight, and all of my religious education since then has emphasized the place of God's Word in all of life. I was taught to believe that the Bible is indeed God's word. I was taught to believe that because it is God's word it is without error. I was taught to believe that the Bible's authority is faultless. I was taught to believe that the Bible, God's Word, is the only and final measure by which all things both in life and faith are judged.
Having a very high view of Scripture is not without its controversy. I was once called a "bibliolotrist," a label suggesting I worship Scripture rather than the God who spoke it. I often find myself at odds with social positions within the church but even more so with society at large. God's Word speaks clearly to His plan for one man one woman lifelong marriages, for sex within marriage only, for father/mother families as the center of society, and for respect for life all at odds with prevailing winds in society.
Greater, though, than God's positions on social issues in GodÕs Word is God's plan for the salvation of humanity. A clear reading of the Word reveals a creation broken by sin, God's wrath against sinful humanity, and God's everlasting love which by grace and mercy overshadows His wrath with forgiveness. God's Word speaks to the transforming power of forgiveness through the death and resurrection of Jesus.
I believe Pastor Paul had a very high view of Scripture, too. He assured the Corinthian Christians that "We refuse to practice cunning or to tamper with God's word, but by the open statement of the truth we would commend ourselves to everyone's conscience in the sight of God" (2 Cor. 3:12 - 4:6 ESV). It would appear, like today, there were Scripture twisters and Scripture deniers in Pastor Paul's day. In clear opposition to those "in" the Church and those in society who did so, he affirmed his refusal to tamper with God's word. It is a great responsibility but also an awesome privilege to stand is such a tradition.
February 9, 2012
do all to the glory of God
I grew up in a home without alcohol. If Mom and Dad ever had wine, we children didn't know about it. We saw the ill effects of alcoholism, and a large part of our ministry was to model a life in which Christ provided all that was needed to fill those voids so many tried to fill with drink.
There were two kinds of drunks around us, each largely confined to the two major native Bolivian groups of people with whom my parents worked. Among the Cechua, descendants of the Incas, a drunken binge usually resulted in "sleeping it off." So it was not uncommon to see a man curled up on some grassy place along a street as he slept off his stupor. Drunkenness among the Aymara, a pre-Incan people, was a different story. Drunk Aymaras got violent. I remember the truck we were riding in through an Aymara village being pelted with rocks thrown at us by a drunk.
So, I suppose it was a bit of a shock when, at a barbecue held to bid us farewell just a few days before we left Bolivia the last time, Dad was offered a bottle of cervesa. I wasn't sure what to think, but as he was cheered on by the congregants, he tipped the bottle to his lips and drank. He later explained to us that refusing to participate with those who were saying their goodbyes would have been unnecessarily offensive.
Scripture is clear to condemn drunkenness as it is clear to condemn anything in excess. It is also clear to condemn selfishness and false piety. The struggle in the early church was over meat offered to idols, or as Pastor Paul said, offered to demons and not to God. So what was a believer to do when confronted with such a situation? Pastor Paul offered this advise. First, "eat whatever is set before you without raising any question on the ground of conscience." Second, if someone says to you, 'This has been offered in sacrifice,' then do not eat it, for the sake of the one who informed you." And finally, "whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God" (1 Corinthians 10:19-33)
January 28, 2012
knowledge puffs up, but love builds up
In the too long list of transgressions in my life, the ones that haunt me the most are those that might affect how someone else will approach eternity. I was about to say the sins of my youth, but that would deny the sins of my adulthood even though it does seem those of my youth are the more haunting. I know the grace of God for myself, that I have been forgiven because I have confessed my sins and believe that because God is faithful and just He has cleansed me from all unrighteousness. I trust also in God's grace for everyone else who has confessed his or her sin.
Sin, however, by its nature, is selfish. When I sin, I act selfishly. I have no regard for those I hurt. I grieve the heart of God, but I also bring pain to the human object of my unkind deeds and words. People are hurt.
It is bad enough to cause pain in this life. But what if the pain I cause extends past this life? What if my selfishness, the unkind words, the hurtful deeds, cause someone to reject the God I at the same time confess?
Pastor Paul's advise to the Corinthian Christians has a slightly different topic when he addressed the issues surrounding the consumption of meat butchered in sacrifice to Roman idols. The stakes, however, are the same as it is the conscience of another that is affected. Whether it is my sin or whether it is the exercise of my Christian liberty, I have to be aware that the effects of my choices are not limited to me only. For today, then, I must trust that my confessed sins are forgiven. Like Pastor Paul as he wrote to the Philippians, "I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus" ( 3:13,14 ESV). And for tomorrow, I will strive, and by God's grace, I will live knowing that whether by my selfish sin or by my 'knowledge this weak person is destroyed, the brother for whom Christ died. Thus, sinning against [my] brothers and wounding their conscience when it is weak, [I] sin against Christ.'
January 20, 2012
to secure your undivided devotion to the Lord
If there is something I really don't like to think about it's my youthful indiscretions. No. "Indiscretions" is a euphemism, and I don't like euphemisms. And that's exactly where I'm going.
Oh, I have plenty of stories; but I don't like thinking about them, and I'm not about to tell. But what they really are not is indiscretions. It's the nature of euphemisms to be used to avoid the truth, and to call sin an indiscretion is to avoid sin or to sugar coat sin. Why would we do that? Why do we want to avoid or sugar coat sin?
I'm sure there are plenty of reasons to avoid or sugar coat sin. I'm wondering if one of the first isn't a refusal to accept that we really don't want to follow God's rules. I wonder, what options do we have? If we don't like God's rules we can willingly disobey them. If we don't like God's rules we can pretend He didn't make rules. If we donÕt like God's rules, we can reinvent God, we can invent our own god after our own likeness and desires and say that He is all love and acceptance, a god without rules. We can pretend and live as if there are no consequences for not following GodÕs rules. We can create euphemisms and pretend what we do is not sin.
Or, we can submit to God's rules. That's not as comfortable. It makes remembering the sins of my youth painful (though I know they are forgiven and that they have been removed from me as far as the east is from the west or have been buried in the deepest part of the sea). I think this is what Pastor Paul is calling us to when he suggests we reexamine our priorities. He says it is when he concludes, 'I say this for your own benefit, not to lay any restraint upon you, but to promote good order and to secure your undivided devotion to the Lord.'
January 14, 2012
you are not your own
Dad grabbed me by the waist and set me up on his shop bench. It was about the most serious I can remember him being. He wanted some information from me, and I wasn't being too cooperative with the answer.
The issue started a few weeks earlier when a third grade classmate gave me my first street information about sex. I should have known better, maybe, than to pass the information on to younger ones in my family. (They didn't need to know; and--this is bad--they would not keep it to themselves.) How the word got to Dad doesn't matter. He just wanted to know if the information had come from me, and he wanted to know what the information was.
I guess his manner scared me. I was pretty sure I was in for a good paddling on the bottom. Dad saw through me, and in his wisdom assured me I would not get the spanking I feared if I would only tell the truth. So I told him, and we had that father-son conversation he probably hoped could have waited a few more years.
That was my introduction, I suppose, to what Stephen Arterburn and Fred Stoeker call "every man's battle" (Colorado Springs, CO: WaterBrook Press, 2000). It does no one any good to deny that we men are engaged in a battle against the passions of our flesh. The enemy knows it and takes no breaks in the myriad of temptations he hurls at us, flaming darts and arrows intended to pull us from our relationship with God through Jesus Christ.
God knows it, too. So He offers us reminders in His Word of why it is that we must look away, that we must flee the devil who prowls like a lion waiting to destroy. In one of Pastor Paul's letters to the Corinthian Christians, God reminds us whose we are with this question and these directions: 'Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.'
Janaury 6, 2012
we were buried therefore with Him
They called it "El cajon" (kaa-hone). It was the swimming hole (box) in a river on the north side of town. We didn't go there very often, so I didn't learn to swim. And, it's very possible that my fear of "deep" water originates in one of the river's pools.
With Dad's encouragement, I decided to do some rock jumping: I, a skinny second-grader who didn't know how to swim, jumping off an overhanging rock into water where I couldn't touch the bottom. Needless to say, I was surprised. Nothing in my previous experiences prepared me for the plunge. The weight of my little body sunk me much deeper than I had anticipated. The amount of time it took me to resurface felt like an eternity, also much longer than I had anticipated. The white of churned water and the blue-green of the sky seen from below the surface form one of the most vivid mind pictures of my childhood. When I finally emerged, it was with a panicked thrashing. My life, I was sure, hung in the balance.
So, water has never been my friend. I'm fine with a life-vest. I'm fine as long as I can touch bottom. Recently, I discovered I'm also fine if it's ocean salt water and I'm snorkeling. I failed beginner swimming when I was in 10th grade because I could not float on my back without kicking my feet. I can swim the length of a pool if I force myself to do it, but I gulp air instead of breathe because I panic as soon as the bottom drops out from under me.
But (I love the but's of Scripture) there is one water I love. It is the water of baptism. It is in those waters that God met me, that God allowed me to participate in the death and resurrection of Jesus. Because of my sin, I must die. God made provision for my death through the death and resurrection of Jesus, and it is in drowning in the waters of baptism that He allows me to find life. 'Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.'
December 29
But now that faith has come
It was dusk on a Sunday. There was a whopping cough epidemic ravishing the small rural town where we lived. Dad often walked the streets of town before our Sunday evening services handing out tracts and inviting people to church. On this particular day, I went with him.
Our town was divided into three parts by two small streams. We lived in the center section just north of the southern stream. We had walked the block to the city square, crossed the square, and had gone the block north to the foot bridge that crossed into the north side of town. A mom holding her bundled baby to her breast came running toward us. She was crying and began hysterically to beg my dad to do something for her baby. Typical to the effects of whopping cough, the baby had stopped breathing.
From there the memories are a bit foggy. I don't know if Dad told me to scoot on home or if I ran home afraid on my own. I don't remember what I saw or what I know from Dad's account later that night. I do know Dad gave the baby mouth to mouth and started it breathing again. He also asked the mom if the baby had been baptized. When she said, "No," he took the baby to the water in the stream below the bridge and declared the child God's through baptism in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. (For a discussion of a Biblical understanding of infant baptism, see my articles "A brief and common language explanation of what I believe" and "A Case for Evangelical Lutheranism" linked elsewhere on this page.)
Pastor Paul explored the coming of faith in his letter to the Christians at Galatia. Before faith, he said, we were imprisoned by the law. With the coming of Christ, with the coming of faith, however, we have been set free to become the children of God. And that faith has become active for us all, he said, in baptism. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.
December 22
the exact imprint of His nature
When I was first introduced to fossils, I don't remember. I do remember standing next to Dad and "Uncle" Henrik listening to a discussion of alluvial plains as they looked across the Coaba Farm valley at the fan shaped plains that formed at the base of each wash. Uncle Henrik was explaining how those plains were formed by the receding waters of a world wide deluge like the one in the days of Noah. It was somewhere around Coaba Farm some years later that I found my first fossils.
The memories from 1968 are not always trustworthy, but I'm figuring it had to be April of that year. I seem to remember we were on an outing during our missionary annual conference to show my Grandma Andrews the area around Coaba, and that's why it had to be then. That was the year Grandma A visited us in Bolivia. We walked along the top of a shale outcropping to get a view of the valley below. Finding the fish vertebrae required good eyes as we knelt in the loose shale and sifted it through our hands.
It's not completely clear from the Biblical record how it is that the Andes Mountains at 9000 to 12,000 feet above sea level are replete with fossils of ocean creatures. Whether it was because they were covered in Noah's flood or they were once ocean floor uplifted in a cataclysmic movement of the earth's tectonic plates possibly brought about by the earth releasing its waters from below also part of Noah's flood is a matter of debate. What is known is that the fossils, both my first 1/8th inch in diameter fish vertebrae and Dad's two to three inch trilobites, were the exact imprint of aquatic creatures of a time long ago.
There is another exact imprint, one that is of infinitely greater import, that is the core of our celebration in what we call the Christmas season. A few hundred years ago the word used for a Christian religious service was "mass," so the service that was held to celebrate the birth of Jesus the Christ came to be known as Christmas. I prefer to use the Latin "Navidad" and thus the Celebration of the Nativity. And this is what we celebrate in the Nativity: in these last days [God] has spoken to us by His Son, whom He appointed the heir of all things, through whom also He created the world. He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of His nature, and He upholds the universe by the word of His power.
Because God loves us, He sent His Son, the exact imprint of His nature, so that His son could take on Himself the punishment for our sin. By doing so He has made it possible for us to have eternal life instead of the eternal death we deserve. This is what we celebrate when we celebrate His birth, when we celebrate Christmas.
December 17
January 25, 1966; I remember the day but had to go look it up in my memory book to get the details and the year. It was the day I turned eight. Mom included an excerpt from a letter she wrote on the 26th: "He had only two guests, but they had fun...I had prepared a treasure hunt in the yard with bags of candy for the treasure. When they finished that I guess they decided it was time to eat and they came in and plunked themselves down at the table."
It's the treasure hunt I remember, at least the end and the prize. Our little mutt dog had dug herself a den into the base of the compacted earth wall that separated the property where we lived from the neighbors. I suppose the reality is that the den was a foot or two deep, but my memory was that it was very much deeper; it was to this den that the clues of the treasure hunt lead us, and it was there that we found the bags of candy, our treasure.
Since then, I've always liked a good treasure hunt and have set some up myself. Creating the clues and hiding them is fun The mystery of the hunt is enjoyable, too, as is the discovery of the mystery prize or gift at the end of the hunt.
Our Nativity celebration is about the revelation of a great mystery that had been kept secret for long ages past. The eternal God commanded this revelation so that by faith, by believing, by trusting in His great promises of forgiveness and life, we can experience forgiveness of sin and and the restoration of the broken God/human relationship. Our response can only be, with Pastor Paul, to proclaim a doxology: 'Now to him...to the only wise God be glory forevermore through Jesus Christ! Amen.'
December 8
He who calls you is faithful; He will surely do it
It was Advent probably my second or third grade year. The community kids had gathered for Sunday school in the room that tripled as living room, Sunday school room, and church narthex. Hoping the answer would be ÒNavidad,Ó Dad asked us which day was the most important day in December. The automatic and boisterous reply was Òel ocho, el ocho!Ó
The town of Apolo, Bolivia, where I spent first, second, and third grades had its Òdefinitive foundationÓ on Òel ocho,Ó the 8th of December, 1690, by the Franciscan missionary Pedro Saenz de Mendoza. The communityÕs full name was Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception of Apolobamba clearly linking the founding of the town with the Roman Church December 8 festival of the Immaculate Conception (a non-Biblical Roman Church doctrine that Mary the mother of Jesus was conceived without sin). To this day, Òel ochoÓ is celebrated with dancing in the streets, Òbull fightsÓ where capes with money sewn to them are tied to bullsÕ backs and the townÕs ÒbraveÓ young men try to grab the capes, and parades with a statue of the Virgin. It is truly a day of greater import to the Òapole–osÓ than Christmas.
As important as Christmas is, it was hard, as a youngster, not to get caught up in the euphoria that engulfed this isolated town of 600 people during the ÒochoÓ festivities. Dad tried to shield us from the drunken revelries that doubled or tripled the townÕs population, but we wanted to see and be part of the goings on. We wanted to stand by the rickety pole fences that were erected around the townÕs square to watch the ÒtorreadoresÓ despite the fact that the fences were often easily broken through by the running bulls that tried to evade the taunts of the townÕs young men.
Somehow, through it all, we did find Christmas and the celebration of the Nativity. In our home at least the 25th took precedence over the 8th; and we learned that Advent and Christmas were more than celebrations of a birth 2000 years ago. We learned that while we celebrated the first coming of the Christ, we also looked forward to His coming again. This prayer became real: ÔNow may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it.Õ
December 1, 2011
spotless and blameless
Patience is a virtue: it is a primary component of love and a primary ingredient in the fruit of the Spirit. Patience is also hard, especially for young ones waiting for Christmas. As I look back, I wonder if our anticipation for the celebration of JesusÕ birth wasnÕt heightened by the pre-Christmas activities in our home. Two of these marked the approach of Christmas every year.
Beginning with the fourth Sunday prior to the Nativity, each day of our Advent season was marked with special devotions. My very creative mom came up with an ingenious and different Calendar every year. Hidden behind doors on a poster, in Christmas wrapped match boxes, or aligned with felt images that over the course of the four weeks when added on to the others recreated the Christmas story were Bible verses chosen to prepare us for Christmas Day. The devotions were accompanied by the lighting of an Advent candle, one of the four in the Advent wreath that graced the center of our dining room table.
I am not sure when during the calendar year the planning and rehearsals for the annual Christmas pageant began; but given the complexity of the pageants, preparations had to have begun well before the Advent season arrived. During my early elementary years, the pageant was held in a standing room only assembly hall at the elementary school. The kids and young adults in the congregation played the parts of the Holy family, shepherds, angels, and wise men. Elaborate costumes and the story told with slightly different twists each year brought the message of a savior come to us to our little country town.
It really is not surprising, then, that waiting for the arrival of the actual day was hard. As we children waited with great anticipation, we all are waiting for an ever greater day. The Lord will keep His promise, and the Day of the Lord will come. On that day He Himself will return to earth to take to heaven those who are his own. It may seem, at times, that He is taking an awfully long time to fulfill that promise. We are reminded, however, that there is a purpose for His delay. He is a loving and gracious God and does not desire that anyone die separated from Him and thus destined to eternal separation. Instead He trust that we will be patient, and that while we wait we will Òmake every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him.Ó
November 25, 2011
as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ
The first assignment Mom had when she arrived in Bolivia with the World Mission Prayer League was to teach at the school for missionary children on Coaba Farm. She was pregnant with me at the time. After Dad arrived in Bolivia following his nine months of language school in Costar Rica, they were assigned to live in the city of LaPaz where Dad pastored a church.
The farm was turned over to the Lutheran Chruch in Bolivia just shortly before my parents returned to the US for the last time when I was fifteen years old. Each year during the time we were in Bolivia from as early as I can remember until the farm was released, we would spend at least a week on the farm while our parents has their annual meeting. Sometimes our family would stay an extra week for vacation. A lot of great memories were made out on Coaba Farm.
One the stronger memories was of a poster that hung in the main room of the apartment where Marge and Henrik Ericson lived. The poster was a conceptualization of the rapture, that moment at the end when Christ will return to gather to our home in heaven those He has redeemed. The picture of ChristÕs return certainly left an impression, but deeper was the impression that I needed to be ready for that day. The image did not bring fear but a sense of awe that raised the anticipation for that great and glorious day.
There really is no way of knowing when that day will be. We are told only that it will be, and so we wait. But our waiting is not empty or without purpose. That is why Òin every way you were enriched in him in all speech and all knowledgeÑeven as the testimony about Christ was confirmed among youÑso that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift, as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will sustain you to the end, guiltless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.Ó
November 17, 2011
after destroying every rule and every authority and power
Within one twenty-four hour period four different men occupied the presidential palace, declared themselves president, and setup a cabinet. I know this dates me, but itÕs no wonder Bolivia was know as the Òlong play republic,Ó thirty-three revolutions per minute. (For you kids, a full size vinyl record, known as a long play album, made thirty-three and one third turns on the turntable every minuteÐlong play republic; thirty-three revolutions per minute.) The bloodiest of the revolutions was probably the agrarian reforms one in 1952 six years before my birth, but repeatedly during the time we were Bolivia we witnessed changes in government or attempted changes in government that could be classified as revolutions. The one where the nation had four men declare themselves president (though not elected) happened shortly before our final return to the US in 1972.
It may seem crazy, but we would stand at an open window facing the center of the city where there was a hill strategically occupied by those who fought against the military. With binoculars we would watch the untrained country rebels running back and forth in and out of cover on top of the hill as the soldiers in a barracks below fired upon them. We worried a little bit when an errant bullet sent up a puff of dirt as it hit the two story building in the lot next to ours. A junior high friend of mine watched the same battle from the attic of a house closer to the barracks. He stood on the attic floor and lifting a tile on the roof peered out at the same hill. He quit watching when a bullet ricochetted off the same roof just a few feet from his view hole.
Bolivia has 'stabilized' quiet a bit since the 1960?s and 70?s, but we still occasionally see news of unrest and rebellion against this or that government. It is so also with history around the world. Governments rise and fall. Empirers are built and crumble. There may be trends we can follow historically to get some inkling of what is to follow, but there is one truth we can know for sure. The end will come. When the end does come it will be because our Lord Jesus will deliver Ôthe kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power.Õ What a glorious day that will be when Christ will make us who have received Him, who have believed Him, alive. May we not be caught being just spectators.
November 10, 2011
children of the day
During my first through third grades we lived in four rooms in a row along one side of our courtyard. The room that was sometime bedroom and more often living room doubled as the fellowship hall and narthex for the church were Dad was pastor in the little country town of Apolo, Bolivia. When we first moved into the house the room that became the kitchen had only a roof and the wall on the street. The room that became Mom and Dad's bedroom had a mud dome oven. Mom never learned to use the Bolivian country oven which was torn down to make room for their bedroom.
After a couple years living in those conditions, my parents decided to build a "US" style two story house. They used adobes with a corrugated tin roof, but the floor plan and style was typical of a north American home. The upstairs had four rooms: one for Mom and Dad, one for my Grandma Andrews who spent a year with us, a room for my three sisters, and a room my brother and I would share. The "boys'" room was to be divided by a bunk bed Dad would build.
While the house was under construction, Dad used the living room as shop space to build our bunk bed. He had all the pieces cut and fitted ready for assembly. All that was needed was the room to be ready. He would take the pieces to our upstair room where he would assemble the bed. But a night shortly after the bed was finished, before it went up the stairs, we were visited by a thief. Though we suspected the person who took the bed was an acquaintance who would have watched the progress, we never found out who it was.
Being surprised by a thief is a fairly common experience which is likely why it is a common Biblical illustration. Jesus said His return would be like a thief in the night. While we don't know the day or the time of that day, we don't have to be surprised by its coming. As a matter of fact, Pastor Paul reminds us that because we who believe in Jesus are children of the light and children of the day, we are not in darkness. Since we are not in darkness we will not be surprised by the Day of the Lord. Instead we can look forward to that day, the day when our salvation will be completed and we will live forever with Him.
November 3, 2011
and so we are
We called it furlough back then. Now they call it 'home assignment.' Every fifth year as missionaries we spent 'Stateside.' Our rotation was mixed up a bit by an emergency medical leave we took when I was five. That six month leave put us on a rotation different than the one we would have had, so we were back in the US for my fifth grade year and then again for my tenth grade year after which we did not return to Bolivia.
The purpose for the change of labels for that Stateside year was to take away the impression that it was a year-long vacation and reemphasize that the year was to be spent doing deputation. Dad did a lot of preaching that year we were in the US when I was ten, and we most often went along. The four eldest of us five were regularly asked to sing for the congregation a Sunday school song or two in Spanish, a display of which we were not all that excited to be a part.
I remember once grieving to Dad about some part of this ministering we were asked to do. I suppose there was not much excuse I could give, so my complaint took the form of telling Dad that we didnÕt know anybody. He most likely instinctively drew on something his mom or dad may have said often to him and replied, ÒYa, a monkey doesnÕt know anybody, but everybody knows a monkey.Ó
There is something comforting about knowing and being known. Maybe thatÕs why the Holy Spirit inspired Pastor John to remind us that we, the children of God, would not be known, would not be welcome in this world. The world does not know us because it does not know God, but we donÕt need to be known or accepted by the world because we are known by and know God and are indeed His children.