50 years ago the Bishop of Virginia...

50 years ago today the Bishop of Virginia

At a rock church deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia ordained me into the priesthood of Christ’s Church. John Rodgers was the preacher. In the black and white picture I’m one on the left. In the center is my father, known as Froggie. (You got it. Tadpole…) He was also a French Baron, though he never wore a beret. (You got it, that makes me… But my sisters assure  me that I am no count.) My mother carried her unordained role with her memorable gifts of style, wisdom, and deep faith.

After two years there, Constance and I moved to Brewton, Alabama, with responsibility for two churches. Life away from Virginia was new for us but made sweet by the friends we made there.  

Our family expanded to three children: Channing, Maria, and Eve.  All are now nearby, grown with their own families. The delight that they brought us when at home now has new dimensions with their friends, careers, gardens, and more. And the richest part of life with them, four grandchildren: Sydney, Drew, Ethan, and Cyane.  These bring the new world to us with excitement and charm, and often with them wondering why so many ordinary things seem strange to us. They are happy to explain.

A few reflections on the 50 years of my priesthood, with an emphasis on the influence  two men. 

The first man to turn my life 90⁰ got me in trouble. This was Peter Doyle, Rector of the church in Leesburg, where my girlfriend lived. I squeezed in a conference at the Diocesan Conference Center where Peter was the speaker. That weekend interrupted my weekly Zen Jungian dream analysis group and the Sunday School class I taught. 

Peter gave talks on the Trinity. My religious quest had taken me deep into the abyss of Eastern religion, despairing of a God who speaks, cares, and helps. Peter spoke of the God who does. This God has a face, I learned, shown in the manger in Bethlehem. He still speaks and He helps.  With Peter’s influence I became a student of the Bible and Jonathan Edwards.

The problem with this legacy came with my desire to be ordained. The people supervising the psychiatric hurdles were not convinced that my faith was real. To them I was transferring stuff onto this God that I talked about as a way of hiding the real me. In fact, four of them told me that I should not pursue ordination before getting psychiatric help. 

I decided to pass on that, but I did have that many speech therapists. They were good, but I found that the most improvement for my stuttering was leaving parish ministry. 

My friendship with Peter has yielded two dividends. First, my girlfriend who was his parishioner is still in my life. Second, his brother Wright and I have traveled together for the past 55 years, sharing our calling in mission and enjoying close friendship in many ways.

The other man who left a legacy was David Barrett. He was the leading researcher on world Christianity. David’s work exposed the enormous gap in the church’s mission: 7,000 ethnic groups that lack their own self-sustaining church, and nearly 2 billion people who have never heard of Jesus Christ. 

When I learned that he lived here in Richmond, I maneuvered myself into his inner circle. I studied his writings, digested his maps, his insights, and his conclusions. During that period my calling changed from parish ministry to advocacy for mission to the frontiers.

I saw this omission as scandalous and, with that deep conviction, the next obvious step was to found Anglican Frontier Missions as a channel for the Episcopal/Anglican world to the unreached. That I did in 1993. By the grace of God and the wise and determined leadership of my successors, Julian Linnell and Chris Royer, AFM continues to serve this vision after 27 years. 

I retired from AFM. Given time and about two decades of frontier mission thinking, I started writing.

So three books: The Global Gospel of St. Paul, showing the call to the nations at the center of all that he wrote; The Year of Paul’s Reversal, tracing his move from defending the Jewish borders to seeing God’s grace for all sinners; Roadmap to Unharvested Fields, naming the reasons for not going and adjusting them to mission to unreached territories.

And, may I say, they are really good, every one of them. I still enjoy reading and re-reading them. One thing that comes through over and over is the author’s humility.

In these 50 years almost 45 of them have been connected with St. Matthew’s Church in Richmond. I arrived there in 1976 as Assistant and have moved through all the chairs until now taking a place in a pew. Virtually, of course.  These years have been the richest for friendships and growth. This has been the place of our deep friendships and deep roots for our faith. A real home for us all. 

There was a ten-year break when we lived near the Potomac River, when I followed my dear friend, the Rev. Jeff Cerar. That took us frequently to the golf course and more importantly to Light of Christ Anglican Church in Heathsville. I also learned that my years there cost me an honorary degree. Nominated in June and denied in the Fall, apparently for attending an Anglican church. Tut tut.

All the underpinnings of mission to Muslims were shaken loose by the national leadership of the Episcopal Church. Time to move. I found a church home under the leadership of one of Nigeria’s foremost missionary leader, the Rt. Rev. N. N. Inyom, in the Diocese of Makurdi. That is now my home diocese and he is my Bishop. (Second photo. I’m the one on the left.)

What has sustained me for these decades? Who has brought fun, given strength to pick up and move on, shown flaws without made to feel stupid? Time to point to the one who is kind and forgiving, wise and better. Yes, of course that would be the “One who is high and lifted up.” But He has kindly sent into my life another, and that would be my girlfriend of 55 years and wife of 52, Constance. Wise, forgiving, better, and kind. And in so many ways!

What better companion to all my flighty stuff than one whose chief delight is “a sense of joy and wonder in all thy works.” She has it. She carries that into every sphere of God’s creation, peering within sea shells, loving the overlooked, and photographing every evidence she encounters. When I am on, I find treasures within her and how she sees, and by God’s grace, some have worn off on me. 

The glow of her joy and wonder make it into her paintings.  Before you read my books, you must see how she has put this in her art--for refugees, for water and watermen, for the homeless, for children, and other tokens of His presence. www.ArtByCdeb.com

The great hymn “Joyful, joyful we adore Thee” has this line: “Hearts unfold like flowers before Him, praising Him their sun above.” That is the thread of this continuous journey--having His undeserved love unfold a bit more and more of what He wants this sinner to be. The Sun above gently unfolds me, giving a better vision of  Christ’s redeeming love for me radiating through His cross.

Timothy and Paul

Timothy, Tears and Farewell

The references:           Philippians 2:19, 20     I hope to send Timothy to you soon. I have no one else like him, who genuinely cares for your welfare. Like a son with his father, he has served me in preaching the Good News. 

                                    2 Timothy 1:3,4          I thank God as I constantly remember you in my prayers night and day. Remembering your tears, I long to see you so that I may be filled with joy.

The story that emerges:

It is fitting that Timothy be the last friend of Paul’s to be profiled. No one was closer to Paul’s heart than him. The tenderness of Paul, his affection and sweet dependence on Timothy shines in their relationship. We will see this first in the events of the two men, and second in the legacy that the friendship left Timothy.

The Events of the two men: Timothy delivered Paul’s prison letter to the Philippian, which he also transcribed. The kind words of that letter must have brought to mind the events that the two men shared. Let me review them, beginning with their first meeting.

Lystra. They met during Paul’s first trip through the citied just over the Cilician Mountains-- Derbe, Lystra, and Iconium. Before Paul’s departure from there, he got to know Timothy and became acquainted with his family.

Lystra, second visit. Two years later he returned to these cities with Silas. He sought out Timothy, remembering him as a mature young man, highly regarded throughout the region. Paul persuaded him to join him and Silas for their mission. 

What Paul discerned in Timothy was a valued companion, a trusted confident, a teachable disciple--all which led to an intimate friendship. Timothy, for his part, had been witness to the stoning of Paul in Lystra two years previously. He saw how Paul survived, returned into the city leaving leadership in place and teaching that fulfilled Timothy’s deep study of the Scriptures. 

Philippi, Thessalonica, and Corinth. In a short period of time, after moving through Philippi and down to Corinth, Paul knew the need to bring structure and sound teaching back to the church in Thessalonica. The three missionaries decided that Timothy was the one who should return there for this further discipling. Paul sent word to them that Timothy was “our brother and God’s minister in the gospel of Christ” (1 Thess. 3:2).

Ephesus, Colossae, Corinth. Timothy does not reappear until joining Paul in Ephesus on the third missionary journey. He was well known in the wider area, being mentioned in the salutation of the letter to the Colossians. Paul sent Timothy back to Corinth to try to bring biblical teaching to bear on the behavior of the Christians there. Later Paul joined Timothy in Corinth where he wrote the Epistle to the Romans. In Paul’s closing greetings to the Roman Christians, he refers to Timothy as “my co-worker.”

Rome. He next appears in Rome while Paul was serving his first jail term. During this time Paul wrote Philippians which included the above reference to Timothy. This tender and generous praise shows Timothy as spiritual son of Paul, valued co-worker, and trusted emissary, all in one. 

These times of Paul and Timothy together put our attention on the center stage of the growth and opposition of the early church.

The Legacy:

Near the end of Paul’s life he wrote two personal letters to his friend. The first one was written  about the year 61, and the final letter about five years later, around the year 66. That would be about 20 years after Paul’s visit to Lystra when he persuaded Timothy to join him in his missionary calling. 

Appreciating a legacy requires a look back from a future point. For Timothy’s legacy we should move into Timothy’s future and then look back —let’s say to the year 86. That would be 20 years following Paul’s farewell letter. Yes, this also moves us into the realm of conjecture, a space I have not hesitated to explore in these profiles. 

This farewell letter, which we call Second Timothy, Timothy carefully preserved. Most probably he had it memorized,  reading and re-reading it. The tears that Paul recalled when the two men parted would reappear easily. Timothy would have a resurgence of dedication as he read Paul’s reminder that he “be sober-minded, endure suffering, and do the work of evangelist, fulfill your ministry” (2 Tim. 4:5). 

In the following verses Paul lays out his legacy. Looking toward his death, he named those qualities that had occupied the heart of his life, faith, and hope. These were the core of what Paul left Timothy for his own inspiration and ministry. 

1.     He was “poured out as a drink offering.” Timothy had seen the cost of discipleship at Lystra when Paul was stoned and left for dead. He knew of the imprisonment in Philippi. He knew of the inflammatory lies against him by the Jews in Corinth and Ephesus. He also knew the forgiveness that came soon after, for his love was patient and kind. 

2.     He had “finished the race.” God had given Paul the particular gospel insight that the Gentile nations were also included in the grace of God. This bold assertion challenged the engrained elect status of the Jews. Paul faced vehement opposition from the Jews as well as resistance from the pagans. That specific calling given at Damascus held the center of his ministry until the very last. “The Lord gave me strength that through me all the Gentile nations might hear the good news” (2 Tim. 4:17).

3.     He had “kept the faith.” The depression expressed to the Corinthians, the burden of the thorn in his flesh, the crushing disappointment of friends betraying him, the torment of lashes and stoning, the list of hardships in 2 Cor. 11–-none of them separated him from the assurance of Christ’s love for him.

4.     He had a crown awaiting him. Not a crown with special ornamentals due to him, for he was the least of the apostles. No, this crown was awaiting all who look forward to His coming.

Had we met on my bench, I would have had nothing to say, nothing to ask him. I was too much in awe, too respectful of the memories and the legacy that were Timothy’s personal treasures.

In fact, I had already yielded up my place on the bench. I had another plan, a plan I intimated last week to Barnabas. That  plan was to secure the grandest hotel in Richmond, the 4-star Jefferson Hotel, and have all of these friends of Paul present. The event was to be complete with chocolate-covered strawberries—a delicacy unknown up there and in none of the places they traveled with Paul. 

The event was planned for this Saturday. Unfortunately I received the news that the hotel was on lockdown. Nothing was available. Not even a stroll by the table on the mezzanine where I wrote many a sermon. And all I wanted was for them to correct my accounts and elaborate on the events and legacies of the years with their friend Paul. 

Not to worry. That’s plenty of time to conjure up… Well, stay tuned.

Simon the Black

Simon the Black                      Easter as Earthquake 
 

The References:                      Mark 15:21  They compelled a passerby, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, the father of Rufus and Alexander, to carry Christ’s cross.
                                                Acts 13:1  There were in the church in Antioch prophets and teachers, among whom was Simon who was called The Black.
 
The story that emerges:
The connections of this Simon touch Rome, Cyrene, Antioch, and Jerusalem. They pull together friends Paul knew in Rome and Antioch where Simon’s family hosted him, and produced evangelists from Cyrene who became leaders in Antioch.
 
These links technically belong in the category of conjecture, but the New Testament scholar F. F. Bruce raises them to “guesses with good foundations.”
 
Mark, addressing believers in Rome, was saying, “Yes, this Simon that you know, the father of Rufus and Alexander.” Paul refers to Rufus at the end of Romans, “Greetings to Rufus, and his mother and mine.” That leads Bruce to the guess that when Paul was in Antioch, he stayed with Simon and his family.
 
That was the Simon, the Cyrenian, who was “coming in from the country and forced to carry the cross of Jesus.”
 
Arriving at Golgotha, Simon witnessed all that took place at the crucifixion. He saw Jesus nailed to the wooden cross and read the sign, “Jesus, King of the Jews." He heard the wailing of the women and His friends from Galilee, the taunting of the Temple priests, and the cries from the cross, “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.” Then he felt the tremors of the earthquake. 
 
Simon’s acquaintance with Jesus from His baptism to His resurrection came from one of the disciples, perhaps Matthew or Mark or Peter. At some point it all came together and he received “the right to be born by the will of God as His child.” 
 
His late appearance into the Passion Story singles out Simon as one who entered the city as total stranger to all the events of the week, only to have the sacred blood of the Savior on his own body and then on his heart.
 
 
It was a distinct honor to sit with him in heaven for our interview. He knew of my interest in his Good Friday experience but wanted to put the attention on Him whose cross he carried. I let him speak about what stood out of that most unexpected event.
 
“The earthquake. In fact, that cataclysm symbolized the whole experience.”
 
Novel, I observed. Not heard that one before. Would he please expand? And he did.
 
“What happens with an earthquake? Tectonic plates shift. Some rise out of the ground, others sink below. But both come into view for the first time—the old and the new. Isn’t that Easter? ‘The old has passed away and, behold, all things are made new.’ Now can you see where this is going?”
 
Yes, you have put forward an image that is a treasure of truths.
 
“But for me, remember, I was coming to it all with an expectation of Passover, so the image carries more than for you. After the Hebrews passed through the waters, Moses sang his paean of praise. In it he told how God, “in the greatness of His majesty would overthrow all His adversaries” (Exodus 15:7). That would not only be the idols of Egypt, but also the faithlessness of the Hebrew nation, and then idols of each one of us.
 
"For me, then, the Easter fulfillment carries Passover judgment before it points to new life. After all, think of the Easter phrases. How can you have new life unless we leave behind the old? How can we “live with Christ unless we first die to sin?” How can we “seek those things that are above” unless we cease seeking those things that are below? Those adversaries, our idols God wants to crush and then show us into His kingdom. Get it?” 
 
Yes, I do. Great image, the earthquake and Easter.
 
“It can sound harsh to see that Easter calls for judgment before joy, but missing that is the recipe for a glib echo of platitudes. Sure, Easter tells us of the love and the power and the presence of God, but not until we know where we need to die. It is not harsh. We hear the tender voice of a loving Father who is kindly helping us to see things we need to cast off before we can take in the heights of his redeeming salvation.”
 
Thank you. Your image, your Passover faith, your humility all bring a brighter light to Easter.
 
“You are welcome. Now, my turn. I notice that your guest last week, Damaris, asked you a question. May I?”
 
OK. But there was a hesitation in that reply.
 
“Like Damaris, I want to put this back into your time and the crisis of Covid-19 pandemic.  You have had an earthquake. Things have erupted to the surface. And we hear now as then, ‘Everything will be new. All things will be changed. The landscape will be different.’ OK, so what are the fault lines you are seeing?”
 
Hmmm. Now you are gettin’ to meddlin’.
 
“I know, but the exposed fault lines can define the paths ahead. The lockdowns may let you protect your self-preservation, your small worlds, and your material forms of security, but God still wants to crush His adversaries. The message must be more than about God’s love and care. Where are your idols, the wrongs of your societies? Do you not see new fault lines? New ways to live that will not fit the old normal? I can hear Isaiah saying, 'Are not these the fast God wants--to rebuild community and friendships; to remove obstacles that deny some food and health care; to expand your world to love and pray for refugees and slums; to reignite your legacy of sacrifice and service; and to seek God and His goodness first?' 
 
Looking back from my perch, I can tell you that you have a long haul ahead of you, a future with severe aches and pains. The earthquake image can be your friend, even with its judgment. Those new lines can open you to the reshaping of the future that the resurrected Christ wants to do.”

Damaris in Athens and Yemen

The reference:            Acts 17:34       After Paul preached in Athens, a few men believed, also a woman named Damaris.

The story that emerges:

Paul stopped in Athens on his way down the Greek peninsula from Berea to Corinth. He waited there for Timothy and Silas whom he had left in Berea. Ever the evangelist, Paul found philosophers at a meeting place called the Areopagus, also known as Mars Hill. This promontory rises just off one corner of the Acropolis where, in august presence in the Parthenon, stands a statue to Athena, patron of the city.

Paul eagerly engaged the philosophers in dialogue, generating interest in his description of the God and Father of Jesus Christ. This God he presented as a response to the inscription at an altar, “To an Unknown God.” 

Those philosophers listened as Paul spelled out God as creator, ruler of the world, and finally judge of all. This judge, he proclaimed, was Jesus, the incarnation of God, who died on a cross and was resurrected. He, Jesus, will return as the world’s judge.

Luke tells us that some of those listening sneered when it came to the resurrection. Others were curious. Some, however, became followers or Paul and believed his message. Among these was the subject of this profile, a woman named Damaris. 

After the stay of Paul in Athens, we hear no more of Damaris. What moved this woman, living in the shadow of the crown of Greek culture, to follow Jesus Christ? The answer promises a hearing of great worth.

When Damaris joined me on my heavenly bench, I knew I was with someone of serous faith and kind heart.

My opening question was quite simple: “What was it in Paul’s preaching that caught your attention and moved you to faith?” I confess that her answer surprised me. 

“Repentance. When Paul said that God called us to repent.”

Not what I expected. All that expert maneuvering with the philosophical concepts--no, not that, but the call to repent. You will need to expand on that.

“I will. As I was listening to Paul, over his shoulder I saw the epitome of the Greek gods and religion—Athena. The pantheon of gods and goddesses had been the subject of our playwrights and poets for centuries. And what do we see of these gods? They squabble, compete, take sides in battles, and claim powers over heroes and villains. Paul’s God was different.”

Yes, I am sure of that, but I don’t see how that leads to repentance.

“It’s all because of who God is, the God Paul was describing. Those gods, the ones we read about, they don’t invite us to close relationship with them. God does. And this God who wants us to be close to Him, He is holy. He is the real thing. Tested and tried through and through. He is pure, fair, honest, right, wise. That is the connection. 

This holy God could have turned us loose and abandoned us. We certainly deserve that. But He doesn’t. He wants us to come to Him and find Him. Yes, we have established this distance with our sin, but He is a God who is driven by love for us. He wants us. Such love that He would let His Son die on the cross for the means of forgiveness.

So  that makes repentance our gateway to this God. He is waiting for us; He is wanting us to want Him. We find Him when we deal fairly with our sin, and that is when we repent. That is why repentance caught my attention. It is the God to whom repentance takes us.”

 “A second thing caught me, something just as stunning. He suffered. He actually became a human—fully, altogether—and suffered as we do. No safety zone protecting Him from our hurts and fears. No exemption from our pain and our trials, our temptations and our disappointments. I cannot impress upon you how precious that is. When I take Him my hurts and fears, I am certain He hears and He understands.

I figured that if these insights were true of Paul’s God—that He is holy, wants me, sent His Son to the cross, and suffered as we do—I will follow that God.”

Thank you, Damaris. I knew your hold on Jesus Christ would be clearly reasoned. 

“Now let me ask you a question.”

Sure.

“Back in the time you are living in, you have a global crisis. The coronavirus and Covid-19. If you were hearing Paul’s sermon back then, what would catch your attention?”

Hmmm. Fair question. I guess it hadn’t occurred to me. Easier to see God through the eyes of a distant and different culture than my own.  

“Pardon me, but from my perspective I do believe there are connections.”

How true. The two things that caught you are the very things that will hold our faith. First, suffering.  Our grief is personal and it is global. The stories, from very near to very far, stir deep sadness. Knowing how He, our Father, suffers over what we, His children, are going through is comfort of the strongest and sweetest balm.

And like you, repentance. But with a deeper sphere than just my self-absorbed sphere, my needs, my safety. Our world is in pain for reasons that precede the covid-19 disease and will be in evidence afterwards. Our greed, our abuses of power and position, our aversion to others’ straits—these bring a global context to repentance. The results are calamities, calamities like the people of Yemen. Where are they and, anyway, who cares? Our attention is fixed on social distancing and $2 trillion. Yet for 20 million Yemeni, their daily issues are food, sanitation, water, and health care. That’s because of their daily starvation, cholera, and bombed homes and hospitals. Yemen also reveals our fallen nature and begs our repentance. 

Back in our times we are as baffled by what  is happening as by what will be left. The evidence of the holy God, however, is not eradicated by what we are experiencing but rather verified by the suffering and the cross of His Son. And that is as true in the Greek world as in ours, convoluted and frightening as ours is. 

Thank you, Damaris, for the clearness of your faith in Athens and your encouragement to us here. We need that.

Spotlight on two shadows - Artemas and Crete

The Reference:           Titus 4:12        I am sending Artemas and Tychicus to you in Crete.

                                    

The story that emerges:

This profile addresses two insignificant entries in the New Testament: Artemas and the church in Crete. We know of Artemas because of half of one sentence by Paul. We learn of the church in Crete only by an off-hand reference in this same epistle.

Yet, these two bring to the foreground unexpected realities that deepen our appreciation for God’s mission. This will become more visible as we learn what we can about each shadow.

First, the church in Crete.  Nowhere in Acts does Luke tell us when Paul went there. In my books on early church history not one mentions Crete in any index. Apparently, Paul did visit Crete and was able to establish a church there. He had sent Titus to appoint elders and to correct misunderstandings and to address  “urgent needs.” But that is the only hint of Paul on Crete, the only indication of a congregation on that island.

Second, Artemas, and here I will indulge in a hunch. My hunch is that Artemas was originally a native of Crete, the very place Paul sent him. It is safe to say that Artemas was a devout follower of Jesus Christ. Since he was returning to Crete, we may assume that he became a convert somewhere away from Crete. Maybe Antioch, or Tarsus, or Caesarea. All of those cities are near Crete and had congregations. Somewhere or other, Artemas became a well-disciplined Christian, eager to serve the Lord. When Paul was reflecting on how to strengthen the young church on Crete, he thought of Artemas and sent him.  

End of story. Two entries that barely have any light upon them at all, known by inference (and hunch) but otherwise in the shadows of prominent churches and well-known leaders. But two entries that shine light upon God and His mission.

That Artemas was tentative when he arrived at my heavenly bench would be understatement. He looked around, clearly puzzled that he was expected. Before I could open with a welcome, he asked his question, “Well, did I win the lottery?”

I was a bit taken aback, though a couple of smart responses did come to mind. Like, “Lucky you, if you did. No taxes taken out up here.” Or, “Nope. Besides, what would you need all that money for? And by the way, just what is the name of the currency up here? Shekels?”

I restrained myself and assured him that I was the one who requested to see him. Apparently Artemas was not the only one taken by surprise.  The dispatcher at the kiosk where I paged him wanted to know how come we know each other. No one had ever wanted an interview with him.  We both got the same reaction at the kiosk: “Who? Artemas? Really?” And then again, “Who?”

We settled down, and I asked the question on my mind:  “Why did Paul want to send you in particular to the church in Crete?”  His answer verified my hunch. Yes, he was originally from Crete. God was returning him to his own people. These, then, were God’s key players: the unknown man, Artemas, and the overlooked church with great needs, Crete. When we put these pieces together, we see what God was orchestrating.

In fact, that could be the caption to the picture below, with the names and location changed, as a parallel to current circumstances:

Actually, this picture requires two captions, each truthfully describing what is happening. 

This photo captures some of the thousands of migrant workers on the outskirts of Delhi, India, trying to return to their home villages. Their survival has been threatened by the lockdown of all India, a move announced one day before going into effect. The lockdown has resulted in the elimination of jobs, food, and shelter. All have vanished almost overnight. Shops were closed, and business came to a sudden standstill. These low-paid workers had no hope but to take the journey back to their homes, miles and miles away. The lines of these workers go for miles. This migration is said to be the largest in South Asia since the Partition between India and Pakistan in 1947.

But there is another caption, one that shows what God is doing. 

In Delhi are hundreds of small house churches. These have given birth to hundreds of followers of Jesus. Many of these converts are among the migrant workers displaced from Delhi and walking among the throng returning to their villages.

They are displaced as workers of menial jobs in Delhi, but they are strategically placed as witnesses among those in “urgent needs,” the only source of hope and love. They are walking among their own as lights of heaven in the darkness and despair in the hearts of those around them.

In the last three months the Global Prayer Digest (http://www.globalprayerdigest.org) has carried names and descriptions of dozens of obscure and unreached peoples in India. The frequent prayer request is for Christian witnesses to rise up among these peoples and show the Father’s love in Christ. The best answers are those who come from these villages, speak their dialect, eat their food, and honor their customs. These are the ones God is placing as His missionaries. Many of them are among the throngs walking to their home villages.

And that is the light that God is shining on the overlooked villagers of India through unknown followers of Jesus who are loving many of their people into God’s kingdom.

Eutychus and Virtual Worship

Eutychus                   Virtual Worship

The References:                       Acts 20:7-12    A young man named Eutychus was asleep and fell out of the window as Paul was preaching a very long sermon.

The story that emerges:         (And it will be a short one. Eutychus has no mention in any index of my sources nor any reference in my books on Paul’s friends.)

The incident takes place in Troas, at the gathering of the Christians there for Paul’s final time with them. At Troas he went on quite a bit. Actually, until well into the night. 

A young man named Eutychus was perched in a window. So comfortable was he that he dozed off. In his sleep he lost his balance and fell the three stories to the ground. When Paul and the others went to his aid, they discovered that he was dead. Paul, declaring that life was still in him, prayed over him and Eutychus revived. He was taken to his home where there was great comfort.

And that is beginning and end of the tale of Eutychus.

When we sat down together in heaven, he seemed a bit sheepish, fully aware of why I knew him.  My first question was to satisfy my curiosity and asked about the topic of Paul’s sermon. Eutychus gave me a strange look and replied, “How would I know? Remember, I was asleep.”  Oh, right.

Pushing a little bit, I ventured that Paul did speak to the distress that this parting would bring. To which came this reply: “Yes, true. But if you are looking for a lead-in that connects your profile with the coronavirus, this won’t do it. We knew we would see Paul here in heaven. You all, on the other hand, have a virus that brings fear and death.”

OK; our future has more angst than yours did and is absent of things eternal, but, knowing that, what would you say to us? Or, what would Paul tell us?

“Kiss the rod.”

Excuse me?

“Kiss the rod. That is the way forward under God’s hand in all circumstances, even yours. It’s a theme that goes back to the 23^rdPsalm and Hebrews 12. The disciplining rod of the Lord is to be valued for what it discloses and where it leads us. It’s the same sentiment as the old saw, ‘Don’t waste a good crisis.’ That is variously traced back to Churchill, Rahm Emmanuel, John Piper, and no doubt many others. God has your attention; you have things He wants you to address. Kiss the rod.”

I’m with you there, all the way. As a matter of fact, I have written a compelling list of 14 corrections that the virus exposes. It has gotten a wide reading.

“Come on. You didn’t write that. Bill Gates is the author.”

Apparently not. It was a widely disseminated article but is a hoax that bears his name. No one knows who the author is, so I figured why not.  I would claim it for myself for now, until the real author comes forward. It is thoughtful, even if not written by Gates and with no overt reference to God. The theme could well be your point, “Kiss the rod.”

I’ll abridge the list to 9, in honor of the 9 players on baseball teams we will not see for several weeks. These are really good. You will see why I claim authorship.

1) The virus is reminding us that we are all equal, regardless of our culture, religion, occupation, financial situation or how famous we are. This disease treats us all equally, perhaps we should to. If you don’t believe me, just ask Tom Hanks.

2) It is reminding us that we are all connected, and something that affects one person has an effect on another. It is reminding us that the false borders that we have put up have little value as this virus does not need a passport. It is reminding us, by oppressing us for a short time, of those in this world whose whole life is spent in oppression.

3) It is reminding us of how precious our health is and how we have moved to neglect it through eating nutrient poor manufactured food and drinking water that is contaminated with chemicals upon chemicals. If we don’t look after our health, we will, of course, get sick.

4) It is reminding us of the shortness of life and of what is most important for us to do, which is to help each other, especially those who are old or sick. Our purpose is not to buy toilet rolls.

5) It is reminding us of how materialistic our society has become and how, when in times of difficulty, we remember that it’s the essentials that we need (food, water, medicine) as opposed to the luxuries that we sometimes unnecessarily give value to.

6) It is reminding us of how important our family and home life is and how much we have neglected this. It is forcing us back into our houses so we can rebuild them into our home and to strengthen our family unit.

7) It is reminding us that our true work is not our job, that is what we do, not what we were created to do. Our true work is to look after each other, to protect each other and to be of benefit to one another.

8) It is reminding us to keep our egos in check. It is reminding us that no matter how great we think we are or how great others think we are, a virus can bring our world to a standstill.

9) It is reminding us that the power of freewill is in our hands. We can choose to cooperate and help each other, to share, to give, to help and to support each other or we can choose to be selfish, to hoard, to look after only our self. Indeed, it is difficulties that bring out our true colors.

“Not bad. And there is a parallel with my story. God brings life out of death. That was true with me physically, and will be true for your health and your economy. Kiss the rod. David had it right: With the Lord’s rod we may fear no evil and live in the presence of our enemies. See that you take heed, or you may find yourself in my story and sleep through the message.”