Don't Forget That He Chooses to Knock!

I'm reading a lot these days from young bloggers who are questioning not only the words, but seemingly even the motives somewhat of those Christians among us who contend that it is a tragedy that we have chosen to do public school in America in the absence of references to things religious.  These Christian bloggers remind us that God is bigger than we are imagining, can go anywhere He chooses to go, and, therefore, cannot be kept out of the public schools nor the public forum.

On the first two counts, I agree wholeheartedly.  Our God is always going to be bigger than anything we could possibly ever imagine.  And He can most certainly go ANYWHERE  He chooses to go.  No question.  However, since those first two are indisputable facts to the heart of every believer (I think even to the believers whose motives some of these bloggers question), the third assertion above might do well to be re-thought a bit.  The God whom Scripture reveals to us at times CHOOSES (because one thing for sure: He IS big enough to choose) to NOT go where He's not invited- like into the human heart, for example: "I stand at the door and knock- if anyone will open the door and invite Me in, I will dine with him, and he with me."  Holman Hunt understood this when he painted the scene of Jesus standing outside the human heart, hair dripping with the dew of the early morning from having stood there all night.  When a critic (of whom there will always be more than enough) asked why the door had no knob, Hunt replied that it did, in fact...on the other side of the door.  God does not beat His way into the heart with a battering ram.

I may be wrong, but I'm thinking that some of the Christians who are suggesting that perhaps we, as a society, had best ask ourselves at times like these whether or not God might could make a positive difference, are NOT wanting to diminish the size of our God, but simply to question whether or not we as individuals (because that's where it always starts), and, collectively as a society (the group of individuals choosing to take similar actions) have, in fact, placed a padlock on our hearts, thrown away the key, turned up the noise, and refused to allow an all-powerful God enter an arena (the individual human heart or the American public forum) that seems to be showing signs of being in desperate need of Who He is and what He can bring to the table.  Ultimately, it seems to me, it is not God's power being questioned, but human choice.  Our all-powerful God will not violate that.  How many stories in Scripture concern folks who got what they wanted and then don't want what they got.  I hear some believers simply trying to say, perhaps feebly, albeit passionately, that's where we are at the moment as individuals, families, and as a nation.  We've finally attained "freedom" from the shackles and restraints of "religious tyranny."  As a family counselor of nearly half a century, I would ask, "And how's that working for you?"

I commend those young bloggers for their passion in going to bat for our God.  Ironically, they'd be the first to say, the Lion of Judah really doesn't need us standing between Him and those who would "attack" Him- He's most capable of defending Himself, thank you very much.  I DO wish, however, that before Abba calls me home I could become eyewitness to a period in Christian history where generations on either side of the age spectrum could cease calling into question every word spoken by the "other side", could stop being embarrassed by each other, could stop apologizing for each other.  I read a book almost half century ago, written at the beginning of sixties revolution entitled Never Trust a God Over Thirty.  I fear some of the spirit of that book lingers.  I wish we could just get so busy loving each other as well as all of the "others" God brings across our path, so that this world would know we are Christians by our love.  By the way, at first I thought about not even writing this because God knows (He really knows) I love those young bloggers.  But then I realized that silence regarding this would not have been the loving thing to have done.  I think before they wrote their blog, they probably felt every emotion I just described, too.  Which means that their motives are pure and Godly and their writings meant to do good.  And I love them for that.  I hope they can still love me. 

The Day After a National Tragedy

Yesterday we cried for the children. And well we should. But what about six months from now? One year? Will we, by then, having passed a "good piece of legislation concerning gun control" have "solved" the problem to the extent that we can sit back, relax, and allow the tears to cease. OR, will we still cry...for the little boys and girls in those far-off countries who go to bed every night hungry or those in our own neighborhoods who, through neglect, suffer the same fate? For the children far away (or on the streets of LA) who are bought and sold in the international sex trade or for those in our own neighborhoods who are being sexually abused by priests, by coaches, by teachers, by multiple step dads, by luring looks from convicted child molesters in virtually every neighborhood, by hundreds of thousands of purveyors and predators of child pornography on the screens of every home computer in the world? 
Will we still pray for the little boys who are handed a rifle and told to go fight a war- or the children in our homes who, through neglect, are handed a remote and told "Get out of my hair, kid!", thus introducing them to their prime "baby sitter" through the most pliable years of their little lives? For the millions of children right here among us who, due to their parents' addictions to alcohol, or drugs, or work, are terribly neglected, arriving at kindergarten never having been read to and not knowing how to count to five?
Or the children of divorce in our culture who unwittingly become pawns on their parents' chess board, not out of love, but out of power and control- the one with the kids receives the child support money; the one without the children has to pay it.
Or the POC (product of conception- the euphemism we have created to ignore that, even in the womb, it is a child) whose parents, for reasons of convenience (We just can't be bothered by this right now!) choose to abort.
Yes, I cried yesterday. I've been crying for 48 years of counseling families. I've personally been eyewitness to every scenario just described. And I'm telling you, we'd better not think that a hasty piece of legislation will "solve" anything. The human heart is the problem. Scripture calls it sin. But we don't like that word anymore. So let's call it selfishness- Scripture says that's the same thing. We'd better "get over ourselves" and continue to cry for the children. Next week. Next month. Next year. In all the years to come until finally we allow God to call us to the high value He places upon all of life in general and the lives of children in particular. Until we get there, nothing will be solved. Come, Lord Jesus!!!

I keep hearing recently that 12/21/12, according to the Mayan calendar, will be the end of this world as we know it.  I, for one, don't know WHEN this world will end.  I'm thinking the Mayans didn't know either.  I do, however, know WHAT will happen when it does end and I know HOW the end will come.  Are you ready for this?  WHAT: no more wars, no more terrorism, no more fears of the all-imposing "fiscal cliff", no more congressional gridlock, no more fears of impending Supreme Court decisions, no more politics or concerns regarding political correctness, no more hate, no more bigotry, no more hunger, no more disasters, no more disease, no cancer, no ALS, no AIDS, no divisiveness, no anger, no "choosing sides",  no "enemies", no "accidents", no death.  WOW!

And I know HOW:  Messiah will come to usher home all believers in Him to live forever in the mansions prepared by and paid for with the shed blood of Lord Jesus.  It will all be about Him and Abba, and no one there will doubt that for even a moment.  DOUBLE WOW!!

So, IF it happens to arrive this December 21, I, for one, say without reservations "COME LORD JESUS!!!!"  And all the church said, "AMEN!!!!"

A Tribute to Zig Ziglar

Larger than life.  I'd heard him several times in large arenas as he spoke to tens of thousands.  I'd read and re-read his See You at the Top until I could quote parts of it by heart.  But that day was special.  A good friend Jim Fittz had invited me to accompany him to a special taping that Zig was doing in an intimate setting in North Dallas.  Up close and personal, he was larger than life.  His enthusiasm for life,  the joy produced by his deep faith in Lord Jesus exuded from every pore.  Had he never opened his mouth, those in attendance would have still walked away knowing that they had just been in the presence of a true lover of Jesus.  You could see it in his countenance.  Notice it in his smile.  Recognize it in his eyes.  Feel it in the room when he walked in.  Some folks just "turn on the lights" by entering a room.  Others seem to darken it as they walk in.  Zig was the former.  You left his presence wondering which one you were.

But the greatest contribution Zig made to my life and ministry was the book he wrote following the premature death of a daughter in her forties.  I cannot tell you how many times I've recommended Confessions of a Grieving Christian in my counseling practice nor how many times I've told grieving individuals that this book is one of the best books on the subject of grief I've ever read.  They usually look at me with eyes of doubt, feeling that there's simply no way that "Mr. Positive Thinking" himself could ever be a genuine help to those in grief- what does he say- "Put on a happy smile!"?  NO.  He doesn't.  What he does is walk the reader through the personal diary he kept in the weeks and months following his daughter's death, and, in the process, invites each reader into his heart and his faith in an extremely vulnerable way.  And, as a reader, you walk away realizing that you've just been allowed to view a side of Zig that none of his other books has shown you.  And you like it.  And the genuine depth of his faith in the midst of his pain points you to the savior who is the source of his positive outlook on life.  It's at that moment that you realize that for Zig Ziglar, this "positive thinking" stuff is no shallow "polyanna" approach to life; but, rather, a joy from a deeper spring than most of us can even imagine.

Sixty six years with his "Redhead"- the love of his life.  Eighty six years on planet earth.  And now the joys of heaven.  He truly will see us at the top!

A Tribute to Dr. Abraham Malherbe

Few days occur in life that impact us so greatly that they are emblazoned upon our mind (or heart) to such an extent that we will never forget them.  Such a day occurred in my life in early September, 1966.  There I sat, a recently-married, transferred Junior Bible major as my long-held dream began to materialize: I was a "big boy" now among the "big boys" at ACC- just the place one wanted to be in those days if he'd felt God's call upon his life into the ministry.  That specific moment in that specific day could be summed up in one word: INTIMIDATED!  I was scared to death!  The intimidation factor was increased by the fact my wife Joan had just happened to mention that the speaker for her freshmen honors colloquium had been this particular professor and, by the time he was finished speaking, she wondered if she had been invited into the wrong meeting.

His name was Dr. Abraham Malherbe.  He was a brilliant man.  A Harvard-educated theologian, honor graduate, his specialty: New Testament exegesis within the cultural context of the world of its day.  The minute he opened his mouth, I knew I was in the presence of intellectual greatness FAR superior to anything I'd experienced up to that point.  Half way through that semester, I knew beyond doubt that I was about to make my first C (if I was lucky) in college.  How shocked I was when it was all over that I was given an A.  I would have used the terminology "earned an A", but I can't force myself to employ such deceitful terminology.  I recognize grace when I see it.  I also know the New Testament in ways that I could never have known it without that semester with Dr. Abe.  It blessed me in ways that I'm only now realizing, almost half a century later.

No, I did not morph into one of those products of Dr. Malherbe's class who still carry their Greek New Testament around with them at all times.  Many of those, by the way, went on to become outstanding Bible scholars in their own right and have blessed the Kingdom in untold ways throughout the years.  I have great admiration and deepest respect for each of them.  Others of that bent simply became a pain in the side of every Bible class teacher in whose class they ever sat-critical, condescending, always offering a better word or a superior way to have said it.  I've encountered one or two of those in my ministry and I know for a fact that Dr. Abe would have never intended his classes to produce that type of "intellectual superiority" in any of his students.  As big as his intellect was, his heart was, after all was said and done, bigger still.

For SO many reasons, I love Dr. Abraham Malherbe!  A great man of the Word has transitioned into his eternity, now dwelling with the WORD forever and forever.  All of us who knew him were blessed.  Those of us who were privileged to study under him- even for a semester- were given a gift that will bear fruit for generations yet to come.  His heritage continues.  Thank you, Dr. Abe!  Your light shines brightly!

B.B. Stevens is one of my favorite people.  Has been for a long, long time.  Make that a LONG, LONG time.  Right at a half century ago, before I ever met the man, he was already a legend in my mind thanks to his sister Velta Lee Spruce.  My, she loved her brother!  Talked about him incessantly.  She was SO proud of him and his commitment to the Kingdom.  She also shared his love of gospel music.  I can't count the Sunday evenings that we gathered in Velta Lee's home after church services and sang until late in the evening.

Years later I met B.B. for myself and began a friendship that remained over the years.  I'll never forget that initial encounter. He must have been born with white hair.  He carried himself with great dignity.  It was difficult to be in his presence without respect permeating every pore.  He moved to the Central church in Cleburne, Texas, AGES ago and invested a lifetime in loving the people there.  He was a pastor's pastor.  Out of his Central connection was birthed the Gospelaires, perhaps one of the most distinguished quartets among churches of Christ.  Cliff Holden, Gaylord Sturgess, David Wallace, and B.B. subsequently devoted decades to traversing the nation blessing churches and gatherings of believers everywhere with melodies and harmonies they would all long remember.  Some of the names in the group changed from time to time, but the resonant bass harmony provided by B.B. Stevens, along with his wry wit, remained the group's constant.  My wife Joan and I became Gospelaire "groupies" of sorts over the years, traveling to hear them whenever and wherever we heard they were performing.  We were blessed to have them as guests at the Mansfield church where I ministered several years ago and then to hear them just weeks ago at the Lakewood Village Retirement Center.  As always, we were blessed beyond measure.  Their voices, while older, still resonated with the same beloved harmony that has characterized them throughout the years.

I have a special memory regarding B. B.- one of those kinds of memories that are born out of navigating difficulties together.  Years ago, B.B. called and asked if I'd be willing to accompany him and Becky Tallatta to southern Louisiana to conduct a VBS for a small church there.  We went in an old (emphasis on OLD) church bus because everywhere Becky went, she took a busload (literally) of visual aids to help her teach.  Just outside the city limits of the small town we were invited to, our bus broke down (emphasis on BROKE).  Keep in mind that this was well before cell phones or GPS systems.  WELL into the night, we finally were safe in the member's homes where we were staying for the week, not knowing if we'd ever see the old bus reborn again.  That uncertainty permeated the entire week, but no one would have ever guessed.  We sang with the people, studied with the people, laughed with them, cried with them, ate with them (a Louisiana fish fry from that trip still rattles my tastebuds!), and had opportunity to bless and be blessed.  Late on our final day there, the much-needed part arrived for the bus and the the trip home was made uneventfully.  That week together sealed our friendship for a lifetime.  B. B. Stevens is one of the finest men of God I have ever had the privilege to know and love.  And I DO love him.  God bless, you B.B.!  As you know well, it's a win-win for you- you've sung about that for years.  If you're allowed to remain here for a while, you win.  If Jesus comes to take you home, you win.  WOW!  What a life!!

Several months ago I became SO overwhelmed by the militant negativity of the political scene and how that translated onto the forum called Facebook that I made the decision to "retire" to avoid that kind of incoming data.  I have since, however, "re-tired"- I have "new wheels" under me, so to speak, and I'm re-entering the Facebook world for two basic reasons: I miss the positive contacts with people whom I dearly love and, being just weeks away from vocational retirement, I am doing more blogging than ever before (larrycalvin-inthequiet.blogspot.com) and have been asked by many to make links to these posts available on Facebook.  So...here's to "retire-ment"!

Sounds of Silence

Here we sit.  The house is strangely, eerily quiet this morning.  Yet, as we sit with Abba in the quiet, we can hear echoing within our walls the sounds of yesterday.  Yesterday was our family Thanksgiving celebration- all sixteen of us together once again.   It happens too infrequently in our hurry, scurry world; but when it happens, it is amazing!  Laughter.  Chatter.  Fun.  Prayer.  Joy.  Memories.  Reminiscence.  Nostalgia.  Hope.  Play.  These are the riches that matter.  Yesterday was about all of those other yesterdays- the times with grandparents, aunts, uncles in bygone days.  Now we are the grandparents.  Yesterday was about today- the laughter prepares us for the healthy quiet and the healthy quiet prepares us for the joys of being together.  Yesterday was about tomorrow- an Abba-inspired vision of things yet to come- graduations, weddings, great-grandbabies celebrating with us- the sixteen morphing into many, many more- the laughter multiplying.  Yesterday was about forever.  The transition into eternity.  The Forever Banquet.  There is no yesterday's joy without tomorrow's hope.  Yet every hope of an eternal tomorrow makes every yesterday a joy unspeakable and full of glory.  Thank You, Abba, Lord Jesus, Holy Spirit, for embracing us in Your love yesterday.  And for promising to welcome us to Your banquet tomorrow.

"I have my rights!"  The cry of the twenty-first century American heart.  The expectant mother who'd rather not be burdened by the thought of motherhood at this time in her career.  The film maker who purposefully inflames the globe in the name of freedom of speech.  The party-goer who refuses his friend's offer to drive him home, with the sentence, "I can hold my liquor- I'll be fine!"  The teen who defies his parents.  The CEO who cheats his customers.  The husband who walks out on his family.  The athlete whose selfishness costs his team dearly.  The nation that continues to build its nuclear capability in the face of an unstable planet.  "I have my rights!"

Then came along One whose message was, "Only in willingly yielding your rights will you ever discover genuine pleasure."  Yielding rights is Holy Ground.  "Moses, take off your shoes, you're on Holy Ground!"  Joshua says, "Whose side are you on?"  The angel replies, "I've not come to take sides- I've come to take over!  And, by the way, take off your shoes, Joshua- you're on Holy Ground!"  The kinsman redeemer took off his shoe and handed it to Boaz, yielding his rights to Ruth and paving the way for the ultimate arrival of THE REDEEMER through the newly created family.  Jesus said, "Take off your shoes, guys, I have some feet to wash!" And he wrapped the towel around his waist and washed.  Peter cried, "Not my feet!"  Jesus answered, "You'd better rethink that."  Peter realized he was on Holy Ground. He took off his shoes.

How about you?  Are you clinging to your personal "rights" at all costs?  Even if it costs you your marriage?  Even if it costs you your family?  Even if it costs you your job?  Even if it costs you your soul?  Even if it costs you eternity?  How's that working for you?  "I'm all Yours, LORD!"  That's what He wants to hear.  He'll do amazing things with that kind of commitment.  Do I see you slipping out of your shoes as I write?  I hope so.  "Have this mind in you which was also in Christ Jesus who gave up His rights..."  (Read the rest of the story in Philippians 2:5-11.)  Glorious pleasure awaits the person who has taken his eyes off of his personal "rights" and focused his gaze upon the One who gave it all up for our salvation.

Paul Pearsall in his book Awe observes that among the many words in the American vocabulary that we have overused and underappreciated, the word awe would certainly rank high on the list.  "Awesome hair, dude!"  Yet we can ignore a beautiful sunrise as though it didn't exist.  THE two most awesome days in human history occurred, ironically, within fifty days of each other.  The day a Gallilian carpenter walked out of a tomb declaring himself to be the resurrected Son of God and the day the Holy Spirit was poured out upon the believers at Pentecost. Nowhere in history will you find two more awesome days, not only in their historicity, but, even more, in their practical relevence.  Because the tomb is empty, we need not fear death.  And because the Holy Spirit makes his home in our hearts, we need not fear life.  We are not alone.  We are not on our own.  What God calls us to, He empowers us for.  And, when death finally comes, it, too, is victory.  Not afraid to die.  Not afraid to live.  Awesome!!!