No Salute, Mr. Paton

(A letter to the Editor, March 11, 1997, after it was revealed that a stay at the White House was used as a fundraiser.)

It’s over.

The one thing we had left in America was our sense of history. We stood in awe at White House tours. We drank in the furnishings, the walls, the carpets where renowned statesmen (remember that word?) paced back and forth, wrestling with grave decisions. We marveled at the dignified simplicity of the Washington monument, choked back tears at Gettysburg, and reverenced Jefferson’s memorial.

No more. In the eloquent words of Richard Paton, the Blade’s editorial director, “Let’s hear no more maudlin sentimentalism about how the White House is the nation’s house, and that charging people to sleep there is an affront. We pay to sleep at every other hotel, and pay for coffee at every other restaurant.”

So when’s the blinking neon sign going up? Are the credit card decals stuck to the windows yet? $50,000 limits are possible. How about the McDonald’s and Coke ads strapped to the wrought iron fence? Come to think about it, why not just level the old ramshackle place and put up something more accommodating, more energy efficient, and modern? After all, it’s just a pile of worthless bricks and crumbling mortar.

And why not bulldoze Arlington National Cemetery? Developers would drool over a golf course lined with expensive condos, complete with an amusement park, a covered mall and a recreation complex. That will be worth a lot more than a bunch of bones and a gauche display of nationalism at the ceremonial changing of the guard at the tomb of the unknown soldier.

You say that’s being ridiculous? Oh, take your maudlin sentimentalism somewhere else. We now know that there is absolutely nothing sacred anymore. Sacred and faith no longer go in the same sentence. Sacred and the unborn child don’t either. Now sacred and history have passed into obsolescence as well. Thank God we never did put sacred and editorial writers in the same sentence. Maybe we should salute Mr. Paton for enlightening us.

… Nah.

The likes of Richard Paton ought never to write in defense of historical values or preservationist views. They ought never to express outrage at graverobbers, church arsons, or the proposed demolitions of all the Valentine Theaters in the world. We have no past worth preserving or respecting.

I’m worried that we don’t have much of a future either.

Junior High Journalism 101

Methods for Modern Mediacracy

I am so appalled at the barefaced propaganda that passes for journalism today that I have tried here to articulate the rules that evidently guides current politically-driven reporting. I apologize to Junior High journalism students for the negative aspersions, but they do not know any better. The sorry reporters that daily insult the intelligence of average adults know exactly what they are doing.

1. If you dislike what an opponent says or does, but you must maintain an air of objectivity, quote his enemy.
2. Deliberately misquote an opponent and apologize later in small print.
3. If an opponent gives an hour-long speech, there are 3000 to 6000 words to report on. It should be easy to select something that will make him look bad.
4. Re-define any ambiguous terms your opponent uses to subtly change his meaning.
5. If your opponent’s speech is really good, ignore it and report on anything negative about his person that you know or can dig up.
6. Print unflattering pictures of your opponent whenever available.
7. Whenever possible, create a situation which draws your opponent into controversy.
8. Become skilled in the use of value-laden synonyms which have strong positive or negative connotations. Use the positive word for persons and situations you support; negative words for persons and situations you oppose.

9. Situation              Positive Word     Negative Word
   Facial expression   Smile                        Sneer
   Sitting posture       Relaxed                   Slumped
   Demeanor             Confident                 Defiant
   Tone of Voice        Clear                        Cutting
   Appearance          Well-groomed           Dressed out
   Mood                     Playful                     Impish
   Stumped               Thoughtful               Stalling
   Astute Remarks    Intelligent                Rehearsed
   Composed             Prepared                 Scripted

10. If your opponent has reversed his position, show how he waivers.
11. If he has not reversed his position, point out his intransigence.
12. Report on any unsavory associates of your opponent’s.
13. Question the motives of your opponent, regardless of how benign the situation may be.
14. Since you know that the headline is more important than the story, pick something negative about the story and put it in the headline, even though the story does not warrant it or even contradicts it.
15. When you cannot possibly ignore something good your opponent does, overpower it by printing something positive about your ally.
16. Never print a picture of your opponent when you have an opportunity to print one of an ally.
17. Since the position of a story or a picture on a page is very important, reserve the top right on an odd page and top left on an even page for stories about your allies.
18. In an interview, bait your opponent with inflammatory or calculated words that will translate well into damaging sound bites.
19. Question every fact cited by your opponent as though it is trumped up, even if you know it to be true. E.g., “he claimed that the sky was blue.”
20. When an opponent seems to be winning an argument, change subjects quickly.
21. Always test your opponent’s temper. Something will anger him, and when it does, you have your story.
22. Never forget that you have the power to describe any situation that seems to be strictly a news item according to your own agenda and ideology.
23. Never let your opponent define terms or truth for you.
24. Make people guess whose side you are on. You have a 50% or better chance of fooling them.
25. Feel absolutely good and justified by your slanted reporting because, in your heart, you really know you are right anyway and your opponent is wrong.

Thoughts I Have Chased…But Never Caught

(Some thoughts never grow into articles or sermons, but they won’t go away. Try these.)

• Conveniences.  The more we indulge in conveniences to save time and reduce the mundane activities of life, the more we spend our time servicing those conveniences, ultimately making our lives more complex. This is why we must never allow gadgetry to define our church mission, drive our burden or govern our relationship with God. When we do, our success will only last as long as an electronic circuit or a AA battery or the service contract.
• Learning.  As long as we insist on learning everything the hard way, we will never achieve true progress. True progress is predicated upon the tiered learning experiences of those older than ourselves. Herein lies the value of reading and gathering advice from as many people as possible. You gain the experience of others without having to suffer their pain.
• Caring.  Caring for and spending time with those you love remain the most fulfilling activities of life. Regardless of how important all others make you feel, or of how necessary they say you are to them, never overindulge in their praise. In the end, it is hollow. Your loved ones alone can provide the special satisfaction and contentment in life that you can take to your grave.
• Enjoyment.  Why do we insist on thinking of God as a mysterious, remote, awesome being when he has made it abundantly clear that he is close, relevant and intimate with humans? He made small flowers to grow in out-of-the-way places, designed the impish and mischievous monkeys to do silly things, and filled the forest with the ceaseless, empty chatter of birds and bugs. He placed these elements into his creation for us to enjoy. If you have ever had someone pull you aside at some festive occasion and launch into a serious or morbid discussion, you know the meaning of exasperation. God desires his people to celebrate life, at least some of the time.
• Thoughts.  Desires, compulsions, inspirations and surmisings are all hands extending out of our thoughts and shaping our ideas, much like a potter who has many hands to sculpt his clay on the wheel. Few of these ideas are based in reality. The leaders among us are people who cut the fat, the falsehoods and the futile elements out of their ideas and hone them into something workable.
• Retirement.  Retirement’s greatest shock is the impression that one is no longer needed. In the human economy, we value something or someone in direct proportion to need. Whenever something is deemed unnecessary, it loses its value. On a larger scale, we must never believe that God does not need us. Saying that God does not need us is a self-destructive, hypothetical statement. Of course, God can exist, survive, and create whatever and whomever he wants, but that is beside the point. He did make us and put us in our places. Why did he do this if not because he needed us?
• Perspective.  Perspective may be the most important concept we have in living for God. Perspective is the ability to see the world from a particular vantage point. It puts everything in the right relationship with everything else in the picture. Your linear perspective tells you whether an object is a huge mountain or a tiny bump on the horizon. Your spatial perspective determines whether the sun is a firestorm of nuclear fission or a distant, insignificant star. Your youth perspective decides whether romance is just puppy-love or a heart-wrenching drama. Your age perspective says that Social Security is the most important financial concern in your life or a meaningless statistic. Spiritually, nothing in your life’s picture will work until and unless you put Jesus Christ into the right perspective—-the center of it all!

Asking the Tough Questions (Part One)

In all of scripture, there is no more depressing scenario to be found than the miserable creature Job as he cursed the day of his birth.

Job 3:2 "Let the day of my birth be cursed," he said, "and the night when I was conceived. 4 Let that day be forever forgotten. Let it be lost even to God, shrouded in eternal darkness.

9 Let the stars of the night disappear. Let it long for light but never see it, never see the morning light. 10 Curse it for its failure to shut my mother's womb, for letting me be born to come to all this trouble…

11 "Why didn't I die at birth? 12 Why did the midwife let me live? Why did she nurse me at her breasts? 13 For if only I had died at birth, then I would be quiet now, asleep and at rest, 14 along with prime ministers and kings with all their pomp, and wealthy princes whose castles are full of rich treasures. 16 Oh, to have been stillborn!-to have never breathed or seen the light. 17 For there in death the wicked cease from troubling, and there the weary are at rest. 18 There even prisoners are at ease, with no brutal jailer to curse them. 19 Both rich and poor alike are there, and the slave is free at last from his master.

I think you’ll agree that Job has a pretty dismal outlook on life, to say the least. But then, he asks a question that goes directly to the heart of our Creator:

Why is a man allowed to be born if God is only going to give him a hopeless life of uselessness and frustration?"  TLB

One Saturday night, I had a serious discussion scheduled with the twenty-somethings of our church. I called it “Re-Imagine.” I allowed them to talk to me about things that bothered them…fears, frustrations, dislikes, problems…all in an open and affirming way. I let them ask me about church services and ministries. A couple of them, thankfully a minority, thought much of it was irrelevant or even counterproductive to their needs. Suffice it to say, we had an interesting discussion.

I think, however, that some of their questions, and the questions of a lot of people, may be superficial or secondary to deeper questions about God. It’s time for us to get to the bottom of some things that bother us.

Why pain and suffering?
Why death?
Why war and devastation?
Why do bad things happen to good people? Why? Why? Why?

All of us have a hard time with these deep and searching questions about life. We try to ignore them; we make up quick and easy answers to them; we aren’t satisfied with the answers we get from so-called experts; in the end, we resign ourselves to eternal ignorance. I have found, however, that many of our questions grow out of basic underlying assumptions we have about life. As one of my secondary education teachers used to say, “I can tell how much you understand about the subject by the questions you ask.”

So, first of all, let’s examine some of the basic ideas we have to deal with.

You and I see the universe from the perception of human beings.
We are finite.
We are limited in power.
We are limited in understanding.
We are limited in knowledge.
We are limited in resources.
We are limited in controlling our lives.
We are weak in moral and ethical attributes.
We are capable of imagining great things, but incapable of doing most of them.
Our entire view of the world is predicated on human experiences and understanding.

What does this mean?
It means that we have the ability to ask questions that we can neither ask properly nor understand the answer if it is provided.
It’s like a kindergarten student engaging a professor of higher mathematics in a discussion about trigonometry or calculus.
It’s like people of two different languages trying to talk to each other without a translator.

Let’s look at some things we know about God.

The Bible does not seek to prove the existence of God; it simply affirms His existence by declaring, "In the beginning God..." (Gen 1:1).

God has revealed Himself through the physical universe (Ps 19:1; Rom 1:19-20). By observing the universe, one can find positive indications of God's existence. Creation reveals the results of a universal mind that devised a master plan and executed it. It makes more sense to accept the idea of God as Creator of the universe than to assume that our orderly universe came into existence apart from a divine being.

God may be described in terms of attributes. An attribute is an inherent characteristic of a person or being. While we usually fail to describe God in a comprehensive way, we can learn about Him by examining His attributes as revealed in the Bible.

God Is Spirit. Jesus taught that "God is Spirit" (John 4:24). God has no body, no physical or measurable form. Thus, God is invisible. He became visible in human form in the person of Jesus Christ, but His essence is invisible.

God Is Changeless. He said, “I am God; I change not.”

God Is All Powerful. God's power is unlimited. He can do anything that is not inconsistent with His nature, character, and purpose. In Genesis 18:14, he asks the question of Abraham, “Is anything too hard for the Lord?” The only limitations on God's power are imposed by Himself. "Impossible" is not in God's vocabulary. God creates and sustains all things; yet He never grows weary:

Have you not known?
Have you not heard?
The everlasting God, the LORD,
The Creator of the ends of the earth,
Neither faints nor is weary.
His understanding is unsearchable.
NKJV (Isaiah 40:27-31).

God Is All Knowing. God possesses all knowledge (Job 38:39; Rom 11:33-36). Because God is everywhere at one and the same time, He knows everything simultaneously. That God has the power to know the thoughts and motives of every heart is evident from many Scripture passages, notably Job 37:16; Ps 147:5, and Heb 3:13.

God Is Everywhere. God is not confined to any part of the universe but is present in all His power at every point in space and every moment in time (Ps 139:7-12). Thus, God does not belong to any one nation or generation. He is the God of all the earth (Gen 18:25).

God Is Eternal. Eternity refers to God's relation to time. Past, present, and future are known equally to Him (2 Peter 3:8; Rev 1:8). Time is like a parade that man sees only a segment at a time. But God sees time in its entirety.

This first group is known as the natural attributes of God. The second group of attributes is called moral attributes. These refer to God's character, His essential nature.

God Is Holy. The word holy comes from a root word that means "to separate," so it refers to God as separated from or exalted above other things (Isa 6:1-3). Holiness refers to God's moral excellence. Since he is holy, God demands holiness in His own children. And what He demands, He supplies. Holiness is God's gift that we receive by faith through the Lord Jesus Christ (Eph 4:24).

God Is Righteous. Righteousness as applied to God refers to right as opposed to what is wrong. We see this in His moral laws laid down to guide the conduct of humankind, as in the Ten Commandments. Righteousness also refers to God's justice. He punishes the disobedient (Gen 18:25; Deut 32:4; Rom 2:6-16).

God Is Love. Divine love runs like a golden thread through the entire Bible. God loves and gives; From the scriptures, we find that He loved and sought out mankind---just as a shepherd seeks his sheep. God loved and suffered, providing His love by giving His all on the cross to redeem lost souls. God, in His love, intends good for mankind. Psalm 145:9 says,

The LORD is good to all,And His tender mercies are over all His works. NKJV

God Is Truth. All truth, whether natural, physical, or spiritual, looks back to God as its source. Any apparent contradiction between natural and physical sciences and God's revelation of Himself simply illustrates our finite knowledge. The more we understand God, the more we discover truth. “Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life.” John 14:6

God Is Wisdom. God's wisdom has been defined as God doing the best thing, in the best way, at the best time for the best purpose. Knowledge does not necessarily equate with wisdom, the wisest sometimes have little knowledge. God is "the only wise God" (1 Tim 1:17).

Asking the Tough Questions (Part Two)

Absolute Free Moral Agency

To discuss the foregoing attributes of God establishes a ground plane of understanding before we go any further asking the tough questions. But that’s only part of the equation. You and I are the other part.

Let’s look at how we were created.

Mankind was created with a free moral agency. That means that we are not robots, we are not predestinated creatures with no voice, vote or choice. Even though God has a plan for our lives, we are not pre-determined to follow that script without choices and options along the way.

First, God has endowed man with freedom of choice. The scriptures urge man to "choose," "come unto me," and "open the door." In Joshua 24:15, we read “And if it seem evil unto you to serve the LORD, choose you this day whom ye will serve; whether the gods which your fathers served that were on the other side of the flood, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land ye dwell: but as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD. Also, Adam and Eve were given the choice to obey or disobey God (Gen. 2: 17; 3: 1-6). The famous "curses" of the Hebrew scriptures were based on the Jew’s free moral agency: "But it shall come to pass, if thou wilt not hearken unto the voice of the Lord thy God...that all these curses shall come upon thee..." (Deut. 28: 15-20, 45). Jesus said to those who were spiritually condemned, "ye would not!" (Matt. 23: 37).

If man has freedom of choice, he then becomes responsible for those choices. Since man has the freedom to obey or disobey and God does not overpower the will of man, man is responsible for his own actions. "The soul that sinneth, it shall die," declared the prophet (Ezek. 18: 20). Sin, as such, is not inherited. "The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son." The prophet further states, "...the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him" (Ezek. 18: 20, cf. Matt. 18: 3-6; 19: 13-15).

In view of the freedom of choice belonging to man, the book of Acts abounds with examples of the sinner being urged to come to God. At the very outset we read, "And with many other words did he testify and exhort, saying, save yourselves from this untoward generation. Then they that gladly received his word were baptized..." (Acts 2: 40, 41, KJV).

If we believe that God is absolute and all-powerful, and that man was created with free moral agency, here is the position we are forced to take:

The absolute God created man with a free moral agency that is equally absolute. Regardless of the outcome of man’s use or abuse of his free moral agency, God will not and cannot interfere unless he is responding to faith and prayer in accordance with his will. We cannot have it both ways.

Yet, that is exactly what we try to do—have it both ways. We say, “God, we want absolute freedom to do whatever we want to do, but, in case our choices mean pain and suffering, we want you to intervene and stop us from doing it. Or, better yet, we want you to eliminate the pain and suffering without diminishing our freedom of choice.” We want to jump from the airplane without a parachute, and when we hit the ground, we don’t want it to hurt. If we jump and hit the ground and find ourselves hurting, we will blame you for being an uncaring, insensitive, brutal God because you let it happen!

When the irresistible force meets the unmovable object, a collision is going to happen and it’s not going to be pretty.

Analogy:

What if totalitarian government or a tyrant dictator took over the USA? What if this new government could eliminate the drug problem, stop gang violence, and provide health care for all citizens? What if it could protect the environment, lower the price of gasoline and guarantee job security for everyone? Does that sound attractive? “Yes!” you say.

Not so fast. What if these improvements would cost us some freedoms, like speech, religion, press or right to assemble? What if you had to work at a job of the new leader’s choosing? Or go to a certain school as directed by the central government?

Indeed, this is very similar to what is happening in Hong Kong. In 1997, a free society reverted back to the control of a communistic, totalitarian regime. Constant protests and continual unrest now beset the city-state because people don’t want their freedoms curbed---even if it is for their supposed good.

More questions:

Why doesn’t God stop universal evil immediately?

To end evil God would not only have to destroy sin—which is the cause of evil, he would be obliged to eliminate the entire human race because it is contaminated with sin. His plan, however, calls for redemption, not destruction.

Why doesn’t God disable our ability to cause suffering?

He could, but in so doing, He would invalidate our ability to choose. Free will is the core of humanness. In order to love, for example, you must be able to choose to love. None of us want to be forced to love. Love, therefore, involves the capacity for choice, the choice to love or not to love. Once that possibility comes into being, evil, pain and suffering are necessary extensions of the range of choices.

Why does God allow natural disaster and disease?

It is a part of a sinful world. Dr. Norm Geisler says that God lowered the perfection of creation (from the perfect garden of Eden) to match the spiritual state of those who live here (Romans 8:20-22). God, in his grace, allows people on this earth to live life, to reproduce, to develop governments and systems to deal with the effects of sin. By his grace, He sustains the fallen creation (providing sun and rain for food to sustain life – Colossians 1:17). But we live in the world of a fallen creation. To further complicate the issue, even good things have evil by-products (water can drown; gravity can kill; lightening can burn and kill).

Why doesn’t God stop evil acts that cause innocent people to suffer?

If God is all-loving and all-powerful, why doesn’t he stop war, disease and crime? Why does he allow the gene to exist that causes congenital birth defects? Why doesn’t He stop the drunk driver’s car from demolishing a bus load of children? Why doesn’t He deflect the murderer’s bullets? All of these questions seem reasonable if we drop the freedom of choice out of the picture. You see, people don’t actually want God to stop all their evil acts. They don’t want God to slap his hand over their mouths every time they’re about to say something hurtful; they want the freedom to kick the dog without breaking their leg. They just want God to stop certain evil acts or just the evil acts of others. But, should that scenario play out, life would become impossible to live. We would be essentially incarcerated with no freedom, no predictability and no personal responsibility.

Well then, why doesn’t God let us choose to get out of this suffering?

I’m glad you asked…because that’s exactly what Calvary is all about. That is the gracious, loving response of God to the evil condition of this sinful world.

God has provided each of us an opportunity to be saved. He has given us the promise of eternal life in heaven where there is no suffering (Revelation 21:4). One must put his trust in the payment for sin God provided through Christ’s death on the cross. Then, based upon that trust, one must follow through with the plan for salvation. (John 3:16-18; Acts 10:38-43: etc.).

Acts 2:37-39  Now when they heard this, they were pricked in their heart, and said unto Peter and to the rest of the apostles, Men and brethren, what shall we do? 38 Then Peter said unto them, Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. 39 For the promise is unto you, and to your children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our God shall call.

God not only has a plan for our personal salvation, He also has promised that the whole earth will be redeemed at a foreordained time in the future. Romans 8:18-19 says, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”

But why is God waiting so long to do this?

God keeps his timetable under wraps. He has a certain strategy and sequence of events that, in his omniscience, he will not alter. Adam and Eve were not delivered immediately for a very good reason: He first had to provide redemption through Christ. The world continues today in part because there are more people yet that will come to have eternal salvation. We do know that God is causing all things to work together for good to those who love God (Romans 8:28).

Since we are part of a world that is locked in the penalty of sin, and yet we have a relationship with the God who created all things, what should we now do with the pain and suffering that affects us?

There are some good reasons for suffering.

Suffering enables us to cope in a sinful world. Pain can keep us from a greater physical evil. A burnt finger warns us to avoid worse danger. Pain can keep us from greater moral evil. Punishment of any kind can act as a deterrent against further disobedience or wrongdoing.

Suffering teaches us to turn to God for our help. 1) For eternal deliverance from evil – Heaven. 2) For temporal deliverance from evil – Safety or holiness. 3) For spiritual strength to endure suffering (2 Cor. 12:7-10)

A wonderful insight into suffering is given to us by the Apostle Paul in 2 Cor12:7-10

7 “And lest I should be exalted above measure by the abundance of the revelations, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, a messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I be exalted above measure. 8 Concerning this thing I pleaded with the Lord three times that it might depart from me. 9 And He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness." Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 10 Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”NKJV

Suffering produces character improvement (holiness, maturity, etc. James 1:24) which in turn produces eternal rewards (crown of life – James 1:12).

Finally, suffering gives God the opportunity to show His grace, love and care for our sinful condition. 1) Through Christ’s life and death for our sake (Romans 5:6-8). 2) Through providing a place where there is no more suffering, sin or death (1 Corinthians 15:51-55; Revelation 21:4). (Some of the ideas in this study were adapted from Dr. Norm Geisler).

We must never forget the difference between time and eternity. Even a painful life that lasted one hundred years is not even a blip compared to eternity.

16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. 17 For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, 18 while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:16-18.

We Are Different

“For if I yet pleased men, I should not be the servant of Christ.” Galatians 1:10.

Does being different mean discomfort to you? It does for many Apostolics. In fact, the fear of being different is one of the most paralyzing mindsets that can seize the church. While fear wears many masks, our old nemesis intimidates the church body most effectively with this insidious brand. Whenever media types, talk-show hosts, writers, or others, ridicule us for being out of the mainstream, panic forms in the pit of our collective stomach. Often, it provokes us into full-blown defensiveness. “No, no! You’re misjudging us,” we protest. “We’re really not that different.” As a result of this fear, we become a bland, garden variety kind of Christian group. It seems we would rather enjoy sitting at the table of denominations, purring with pride and contentment, than reach the world with a unique gospel message, the same one that energized the church of the book of Acts. I contend, however, that if we fear to be different, we fail to be different. We are not here to be accepted but to be a light in a dark place.

This phenomenon of fear did not start with us. Nicodemus came to talk to Jesus at night for fear of the Jews. All four gospels record that Peter denied his involvement with Christ three times. This fearless man who jumped out of a boat to walk on water and who wielded a sword against Malchus, did not distance himself from Jesus because he was afraid for his life, but rather because he was afraid for his reputation. The Judaizers in Acts and Galatians clamored to retain certain practices of the Jewish religion, not only because those traditions were so ingrained within them, but also so they would not be considered too different from their friends and families. (Acts 15:1; Galatians 2:12).

Since its beginning, the United Pentecostal Church , International has undergone countless attacks. Several years ago, a mainline denomination and a major Christian magazine declared that we were a cult. They based their charge on our doctrines of the oneness of God, baptism in Jesus’ name, the new birth and our holiness lifestyle, claiming that these doctrines made us so different from general Christianity that we had to be classified as a cult. Their assault went beyond mere name-calling. It appeared to be a calculated attempt to hurt us and to serve as a warning to their people to avoid us. The charges galvanized our organization into a massive defensive reaction. We insisted that we were not a cult. In an avalanche of articles, letters, sermons and bible studies, we tried to convince people that we had been unjustifiably tagged with this label by those who wanted to make us seem freakish to the world. Looking back, I now wonder if our fear of being perceived as different, rather than a pure defense of the truth caused much of this reaction. The substance of our defense was correct, but this question remains: Would we have been better served to have ignored the charge and simply redoubled our efforts to get the message out to the unchurched and lost of the world? Indignation over false accusations consumes far too much of our energy, and it seldom works. Very little has changed in how our detractors view us.

Recently, a friend shared some intriguing data with me about the Mormons. No group has been more maligned as a cult than the LDS. While they defend themselves against nefarious charges that they feel mischaracterize them, they focus primarily on offense, not defense. For example, according to a report put out by the National Baptist Convention, the “Mormons are the ‘church’ doing the most evangelizing through TV commercials. Within twenty-four hours of a person’s response, missionary will show up with the Mormon Bible. In a shocking trend, Mormons are converting 155 Baptists to Mormonism every week. The average-sized Baptist church in America is 150 members. That equals about fifty-two Baptist churches that are lost to the LDS religion every year.” Now, if any group fits the definition of a cult, the Mormon Church certainly does. They have discovered, however, that the strategy of ignoring the charge and continuing to push their agenda works best.

I understand that the cries of cultism need to be rebutted because they are untrue, and because they conjure up negative images of us. Neither our theology nor our lifestyle supports the charge. The driving force behind our response, however, must not be the fear of being different. As long as we allow ourselves to be overly sensitive to the opinions of “mainstream” Christianity, we sabotage our calling. We are different, but the differences we have with the world’s brand of Christianity do not speak of weakness, but strength. If we accept and celebrate the fact that we are indeed different, we will find ourselves much farther down the road than if we continually chafe under a perceived negative, or worse, if we let the fear of being different neutralize us in our mission. The only standard we should accept is the Word of God, and the only approval we should seek is that of our Lord’s.

A Tribute to Deacon Brown

Several years ago, I returned to my hometown of Jackson , Michigan to pay my respects to one of the finest Christians I’ve ever known, Archie Brown. The life of this man that impacted hundreds of people, including me, was remarkable for both was he was not as well as what he was.

He was not highly educated, boasting only a third grade education. He worked in a tire factory most of his life. He did not teach a Sunday School class nor did he formally head up a ministry. He haled from the north woods of Michigan and had few of the cultural refinements that most of us “city folk” find impressive. Other than singing in the choir and beating a big, slightly out-of-tune bass drum in the church orchestra, he wasn’t among the musical elite.

What he was, however, made whatever he was not pale into insignificance.

He was faithful. Rain, shine, sleet or snow, Brother Brown came to church. He came early and left late. He lived exactly the way he was taught, never varying off course.

He had a servant’s heart. He mowed the grass. He shoveled the snow. He did minor repair jobs. He taxied people to and from church, ran errands for widows and shut-ins, divided up and distributed the Sunday School literature, took care of the details of foot-washing and communion services, and literally did whatever needed to be done around the church.

He was loyal. Not one contrary word ever came out of his mouth toward the leadership of the church. I know because in lived in the pastor’s home. I heard my father say more than once, “Well, I know Brother Brown is with me.” His support was genuine and unwavering.

He loved the truth. Nearly every testimony I heard Brother Brown give during my childhood and youth started out with, “One Lord, one faith and one baptism.” He thrilled at the simple, Apostolic message of the oneness of God and the new birth experience. Often, his shoulders shook, his face took on a sort of twisted, yet joyous look, and he stomped his feet whenever he heard these wonderful truths expounded.

He had the same exuberance and excitement for God everywhere and all the time. If you were somewhat shy, you hoped you didn’t meet up with Brother Brown in the supermarket or walking down the street. “Praise the Lord,” he would always shout. He might even wave his hand or give you a bear hug and declare loud enough for anyone to hear, “God is good, ain’t he!”

He was a pure soul. Brother Brown was, I believe, the most non-self-conscious person I have ever known. He was unabashedly Apostolic. He had no hidden agenda, no guile, and no devious motives. He was what he was.

He was a family man. My dad never took a call from Sister Brown complaining that her husband was not treating her right. He never went “out with the boys” to the neglect of his wife and four children. He commanded the respect of his family because they knew he was real.

He took responsibility seriously. For a man who laughed often and loud, doing the right thing was no laughing matter. He not only took care of his personal and family responsibilities, he shouldered the problems and trials of others as well. If somebody slipped up, there was Brother Brown, quietly taking care of the needs left behind.

He desired no recognition or credit. He never looked for nor needed anyone to pat him on the back and tell him he was doing a good job. If anyone did, he would just smile and say, “God is good, ain’t he!”

Deacon Brown was a real deacon. He made my dad’s job so much easier. I pray that every church would have at least one deacon like him around.

Mabria

Brown jacketed and wearing a Greek fisherman’s cap, Ioannes stood by his simple, white plastered house and stared curiously at the Audi which crept toward him. We rolled to a stop in the vacant lot opposite the house and climbed out of the car.

As we approached this stoop-shouldered, elderly man, he smiled, revealing a set of slipping dentures. His head jerked slightly up and back, customary of Greeks who want to size you up and hear what you have to say. He had spent all of his eighty-five years in these environs of Megalopolis, a fair-sized city in the heart of the Peloponnesus, the southern peninsular land mass of Greece, and was always glad to help lost tourists.

“Are you Ioannes Angelopoulos?” Alan asked him.

“Angelopoulos,” he repeated, somewhat surprised. He gestured with both hands toward his chest, nodding once emphatically. “Ne,” (Greek for yes).

It was my grandfather’s youngest brother. A lump rose in my throat.

Alan went on. “Allow me to introduce you to the grandson of your brother Alexander, Markos, from America.”

“Alexis’ grandson?” He turned and looked at me in disbelief. “Alexis went to America many years ago.”

Ioannes had not seen his brother since Alexis left Greece one dark, long ago night, accompanied by their eldest brother, Constantine. Ioannes was nine years old. His two older brothers were among tens of thousands of Greek immigrants who sailed into New York Harbor in 1910. Alexis never returned. He died on my fifteenth birthday, in 1963. He was sixty-nine.

We hugged, and Ioannes kissed me on each cheek. Pure white hair, thick but nicely cropped, ran out beneath his cap. No glasses obscured his deep-set eyes. His high cheekbones, well-proportioned forehead and jaws had been softened gently by age. The silver flecks of a day-old beard grew from the olive skin, now giving way to age spots, but didn’t hide the evidence of an earlier handsomeness.

“I am very honored that you have come all the way from America to visit me,” he said in a low, controlled voice. “May God bless the memory of your grandfather.”

Georgiana, Ioannes’ wife, met us as we moved toward the house. When Alan explained to her who we were, she took my hand in both of hers and rubbed it warmly. She bubbled with questions.

“How long can you stay? Are you very hungry? I must call my son Costis when he gets home. He lives next door. He will be home soon. Let me fix you something to eat and drink. Come into the house.” I felt as though I belonged.

Someone has said that the Greeks save their best hospitality for strangers, and, I would add, long-lost relatives. Georgiana led us beneath the grapevine canopy at the back of the house and into her small kitchen. When we were seated, she scurried off to the hen house for the eggs. With the help of Costis’ daughter, Georgia, she quickly spread before us a Greek countryside meal; eggs fried in olive oil, tomato salad seasoned with oregano, home grown green beans, and feta cheese which she herself had made from goats milk.

When we were ready to eat, Georgiana gave a round loaf of homemade bread to Ioannes. Slowly, almost ritualistically, he divided it into quarters, cut each quarter into thirds, and handed it out to us. There was a certain dignity about the way he did this, as though it was his very important role. Suddenly, a sense of heritage and the sacredness of the family overwhelmed me. This old gentleman was acting out a scene he had no doubt seen his father do before him. In this simple breaking of bread, the present moment was transformed into a rich, unbroken stream of culture and tradition. The greatest messages are often conveyed in the most unassuming ways.

After dinner, we sat out on the back porch for some Greek coffee, served thick and strong in demitasse cups, and each sip chased down with a drink of cold water. By that time, Costis had joined us, and when we asked directions to the village where the family had its roots, he offered to take us there.

The village of Mabria (pronounced Mah-vree—AH) is remote, even by Greek rural standards. We left the pavement and bounced over seven kilometers of stony, curving road to reach it. Its fifty or sixty structures were situated around the bell-towered Greek Orthodox church. Now inhabited by only forty families, the mainstay of its economy remained sheep and goat herding, unchanged since the days of my grandfather. As Alan maneuvered through the narrow streets, we had to stop twice to let herds of sheep and goats get by. Turning south at the center of Mabria, we drove to the foot of the hill where the old Angelopoulos home still stood.

“This is where Alexis, your grandfather, and all of his brothers were born,” Costis said. “He lived here until he was sixteen years old, and then went to America.”

We trudged up the stony incline for a closer look. It was a small, sturdy, two-storied house, with thick, stone walls and a tile roof. Despite the scars of many years, including damage caused by an earthquake in 1965, it appeared solid. Aside from a recent addition, and the disappearance of its wrought iron balconies, little had changed.

A rock-strewn field, scattered with trees and shrubs, stretched out behind the house. Costis said that when my grandfather and his brothers were school-aged children, they would play for hours on these craggy rocks. If they were playing school, the one sitting on the biggest rock would be the teacher; if they were playing marketplace, he would be the richest merchant. The field spread across the top of the hill and down toward the irregular valley below. Imposing, rose-hued mountains presided over the village. The ruins of a medieval castle, probably erected during the Ottoman-Turkish empire era, were visible from one peak.

A fig tree stood about ten yards off the corner of the house. It was late September, so the figs were ripe. Costis picked one, peeled back the skin, and handed it to me to eat. It was much sweeter and milder than I anticipated, nothing like the processed, candied figs I had eaten in America.

“This tree has stood here for a long time,” he said. “Your grandfather probably ate figs from this same tree.” I discovered later that Alexis had actually planted the tree when he was a boy. It was the sweetest fig I will ever eat.

Slowly, panoramically, I drank in the scene. Time flowed backwards. I melted into the rugged terrain of a village suspended in time.

I heard the shrieks of little olive-skinned boys with black hair and brown eyes as they ran shoeless and scuffled among the big rocks…

I heard the hollow sound of bells clanging on the necks of favorite sheep…

I smelled the aroma of freshly baked, hard-crusted loaves as it drifted from the hot kitchen…

I heard sticks crack against branches laden with olives that cascaded down on sheets spread beneath them…

I saw work horses stall as the plows caught on boulders embedded in the earth…

I also saw expressions drained of hope…

I sensed the unsettledness of lack of opportunity, lack of jobs, a dismal future…

I saw dark, thoughtful eyes stare at rose-hued mountains and wonder what the world was like that lay beyond them…

I felt silence close over the cacophony of lively children.

Mabria’s stark, pastoral setting sighed dispiritedly.

A big Italian ship was scheduled to leave the port of Patras soon and Cos and Alexis had passages booked.

Hope and dread wrestled within both parents and sons.

Tears flowed.

Long embraces were exchanged.

Lanterns swung like fireflies in the night, and Mabria faded into a vague and distant past.

Did Alexis know he would never retrace those steps?

Or did the black-bordered letter he received some twenty years later discourage him from going back? Without his mother, perhaps Mabria had lost all attraction.

Like a long lost friend, my past rose from these grounds to meet me. In touching it, I was assured of the spiritual bond, the sense and substance of belongingness, that defines my essence. I am a link in a chain, a part of a whole, one element that derives its meaning from the rest, and awed by a glorious synergism of people and culture.

Mabria taught me the sacredness of family. I grieve for millions today who have no linkage to history, not even to one generation before them. With no sense of the past, will they have a sense of the future? If they do not know where they came from, will they not care where they are going either?

The family is sacred, yes. All families are. But the overarching lesson is that life is spiritual. Materialism, secularism, living for self and pleasure, are all vapid and unfulfilling in the end.

This I received. I leave it as a legacy for you.