Monday, September 27, 2010

"V" is for my Villages






(Location: My freshly-swept house in the village of C., Romania, 12:30pm on the 27th of September. There are ripe grapes on vines covering half of my open window, and there is a lingering oder of woodsmoke from last night's fire in the stove. The sunlight streaming in has mostly dried the evidence of the downpour that drenched just before sunset yesterday, but the breeze blows the clouds across the sun as though teasing it. My bike waits just outside the door for our next journey, probably in a couple of hours.)

Just add water. What I mean is, as usual, I am going to give you the "concentrate" version of what I would really like to tell you, and you will have to "just add water" to reconstitute the original contents! Ironically, that is what God did as I galloped across a meadow last night with some of my young friends. We were completely saturated with water by the time a rainbow interrupted the down pour and pulled the sunset out from behind the cloudburst. We were laughing and singing and enjoying the fact that we could enjoy getting wet, though by the time our horses finally staggered home, we were a bit cold, and I was quick to light a fire in my stove. The descent down the old farm road had literally been a mudslide. After one horse fell to his haunches forcing one girl to jump free, we dismounted and slid down on foot, leading our mounts and trying to slide faster than they were so we would not be knocked sprawling. Have I told you that I love adventure!?

No, but the best parts of this week for me were by far my days spent in V. and V. The village of V. is where I aim to live one day, and where my friend T. is working to renovate a 500-year-old church building. Despite the fact that this village has been the focal point of my return to Romania, I had been unable to get there, for a variety of reasons. Finally, last Wednesday, I went, visiting for the first time since last January! I was elated, and to make things even better, it was a gorgeous day there!

I do not have many pictures from my visit, except a few hurried shots snapped out the car window, because we were busy! I helped a few other guys laying hardwood floor in the church, and then we invited the town for a short preaching time, and I preached to a congregation of adults and children, Orthodox, Prostestant, and a Catholic. You may remember that the very first time I visited V., I preached, then on the church steps. Last Wednesday, however, we brought in benches and gathered inside! People kept coming, even after I had begun, and they all crammed on to the four large benches we had placed in the sanctuary. Afterwards, T., who had also translated for me, was kicking himself for his lack of faith. He had put four benches, and God filled them completely! Why had he not placed more? He had not expected that many people to come! Next time, we will place more benches in faith!

Many challenges greeted me each day, but Thursday afternoon was another memorable delight. I visited V., which is another village outside of Sighisoara, in an opposite direction from the more isolated village of V. where I preached Wednesday. You see, this village, V., is the one that I am responsible for visiting each week before we do our children's program there on Saturdays. It was also my village last year, so the people know me. I was back for the first time a week ago, and when I was asked to help the men building the roof, but this week's visit was even better.

I arrived in the midst of the children coming home from school, and two of the boys agreed to take me up the hill to the more remote houses. We had some good conversations with folks and laughs among ourselves, and we ate apples off the tree. In fact, I almost got a haircut from a young man giving a friend a trim, and I probably would have had I not had the responsibility to visit several more families before getting picked up by my team! Then we decided to go fishing for minnows in the creek. I straddled the creek, and they asked me if I could really catch them with my hands, especially since they had all swam away by now. I said, "Shhh...," and I leaned closer to the water as they all leaned in to see better. Splash! With one sweep of my hand, I managed to get each of them a little wet! We all laughed at my trick, and then we hopped into a horse cart and road through town, with me shouting reminders of our coming program as we passed by. Then we made a quick stop in another corner of the village where there is a small church, and they showed me inside the room where the church gathers a couple of times each week. What a fun visit!

As planned, we re-started our kids' programs, doing six last week (as we will each week). I was involved in four of them, trying to get back into the rhythm after not having done it for almost a year. In addition, my role has changed, and with my improving Romanian, I am now working on stage a lot without translation. Thursday I was shocked all over again in the village of A., which I described last year as reminding me of a savage jungle village. Indeed, naked, dirty kids came racing toward us, some cheering, some insulting us. Because I am fairly strict when necessary, they were telling me that they do not like me as well as my collegue who is in New York for four months! Friday was challenging in our "backyard" neighborhood, the community around our ministry base, and Saturday morning we arrived to find that my visit to V. had paid off and we had a large crowd ready for the program. However, again we found obstacles and had to persevere, so it was a real blessing when we regrouped and presented our last program in an area of town that is new for us--full of children living in apartment blocks (this is where I went Christmas caroling last year, if you recall). By God's grace and ingenuity, that program went very smoothly and was so much fun--after the longest sack-race in history, I had divided the children good-naturedly into (grunting) gorillas and girls, instead of boys and girls as usual, and we really enjoyed ourselves!

So thank you for your prayers. This week will be another busy week, beginning with a special choir concert tonight. Actually, yesterday found me already studying dyslexia, which may draw me into deeper study of this fascinating gift which is far more than a learning disability, and then this morning I gave a test in English and taught a French lesson. Now, after a quick haircut, I am using my day off as effectively as I can before I find myself in a calendar of children's programs, school lessons, and hopefully a visit to both V. and V. before the week is over. This schedule is particularly critical for a special reason, but if you have read this far, I will let you in on the secret...

This weekend, I will be flying to the USA for a brief visit! After all, I cannot miss my sister's wedding!

If you are in the US, and especially if you are in the Indianapolis area, keep your eyes open for an invitation to a special gathering on Tuesday the 12th of October, before I return to Romania. The invitation will be on my blog, either before or after this post... Maybe I will see you soon!

PS I am going to try to add a photo from this evening (Monday night, 27 September). I had the privilege of singing at and attending a special ceremony tonight for a local Christian charity started by a Scottish woman with an American history. It was not special because it was held in the brand new hotel, but because many key persons in the city were present, including persons from all sorts of Christian traditions. I will not try to describe it, but it was proof of God at work in this city.
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A Rose From Home

A Rose From Home

My Story (As prepared for my church congregation this spring--2009)


I have a story to tell you. I am the main character, but the story is not about me. I have traveled several parts of the world, but my adventure has been closer to home. I am twenty-six years old. My story begins like many of yours…

I grew up going to church. I had been born into a family who labeled themselves “Christian,” in a country that labels itself “Christian.” Every Sunday found me attending a worship service and Sunday school in a mainline denomination church. I served as an acolyte, attended Vacation Bible School, helped my dad count and record the offering money, sang in the youth choir, was a leader in the youth group, and occasionally served as liturgist. Baptized as an infant, I was confirmed at the age of twelve, thus becoming an “official” member of the church. Then, hurt by the church, my family left to find another.

Have you ever been hurt by the Church?

After months of searching, we settled into a very large independent church. Things were different there, and I was quickly welcomed and at home among new friends that truly had a passion for Jesus. The Word of God was taught boldly from the pulpit, and I was introduced to a missions-aware lifestyle. So it was with regret that I said goodbye only a couple of years later to move with my family to another church. I purposely remained aloof, not wanting to make new friendships before I left for college a year later. Besides, I was loosing my faith—or so I thought—and I didn’t want anyone to know. I was asking scary questions like “Is there really a God?” and, if so, “Is He the Christian God?” and “Would I be Christian if I had been born in another part of the world?”

Have you ever asked yourself unsettling questions about what you believe?

So I headed into college under a cloud of confusion that only worsened for the next two years. Though I didn’t know what I believed anymore, I continued to go to church every Sunday, and to help lead worship in chapel. Most importantly, even during this questioning, I continued my morning habit of daily study of the Bible. I had begun at age twelve, reading at first a chapter per day, then ten minutes each morning, then an half-hour, and so on. So, only by the grace of the very God I doubted, I remained anchored in His Word and in His community, though I felt like a fake most of the time. Since then I have learned that “fake” is the worst insult the world can give us; that is why the label of “hypocrite” is so offensive.

Have you ever felt like a fake?

Six weeks with missionaries in South Africa followed by a year in France began to teach me what life with God is all about. I began rebuilding my faith, this time it belonged to me, in contrast to me borrowing the faith of my parents, church, or anyone else. In my parent’s basement in 2003, on either Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve, I invited Jesus to live in me; perhaps I had done so before, but I didn’t recall—but since 2003, I have never forgotten that moment. Unfortunately, nothing changed. I continued to do my best to act like a Christian, as I had done for so long.

Have you ever found yourself “doing your best” to be a good person, or to act like a Christian?

Though I did not realize it at the time, I was quenching the Spirit, even though I had welcomed Him into my life. During the next few years, the LORD continued to nurture me, and slowly things began to change. Several tough months in Idaho birthed my prayer-life. I spent three years being humbled in a job that was my informal seminary training. In 2007, a short stint in Mexico helped me to see things as they were, and not long afterward, I was baptized by immersion. No baptism of any kind can save a lost soul—only Jesus can do that. However, this baptism was an important covenant between me and God, symbolizing not only my death and resurrection with Jesus and my public profession of faith, but it also my life change, the beginning of my bearing fruit. “For each tree is known by its own fruit…”according to Luke 6:44. During the past year and a half, the LORD has provided me with an informal pastoral internship in my church, teaching me every aspect of discipleship. Simultaneously, I have been studying unceasing prayer and worship. I am now very different than I was five years ago.

In the Book of Acts (which tells the story of the earliest years of the Church) every time a person decided to follow Christ, two things took place—though not always in the same order. Each person experienced a life change, which I call the “baptism of repentance,” as well as the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, which I call the “baptism of the Spirit.” Looking back, I realize that the Holy Spirit was living in me in 2003, but it wasn’t until I surrendered everything to God, as represented by my immersion, that I allowed the Spirit to have His way in me and transform my life. “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now life in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me. (Galatians 2:20)”

Have you invited Jesus to live in you? Have you allowed the Spirit to transform your life?

I tell you this story for two reasons. First, I tell this story in order to boast in the LORD! May God our Father get all praise and glory forever! Second, I tell this story because it is relevant to you. Likely you have heard that I am leaving the country: I have let my light shine before you; please let your light shine within the Church, too! This congregation is in revival, and as each of you allows the Spirit to revive you, the entire Church will be revived and utterly transformed, to the glory of the Most High God. And for His glory is the reason He created us; the reason He sent His only Son to reveal Himself to us; the reason He became Sin for us and died for us on the cross—while we were still sinners; and the reason that He conquered death and offered us eternal life with Him.

It will cost you a lot—in fact, it will cost you everything, your very life. But if you have never surrendered your life to Christ Jesus, if you have never invited Him to send His Spirit into you and to transform your life, then do it right now. Just let go of everything to which you are desperately clinging; stop trying to do it yourself! This is the very reason you are still breathing in this physical life—God has been delaying His judgment of this sinful world because He is waiting for you—2 Peter 3:9 says He wants none to perish!

If you have already invited the Spirit into your life, then live like it! Bear fruit! Anyone and everyone who meets you or knows you or sees you or hears you should know immediately and clearly that Jesus the Christ lives in you and loves them! That is how stark the contrast should be between your life and the world around you!

Have you immersed yourself in God’s Word and in prayer in the last twenty-four hours?

If you call yourself a follower of Christ, then there is no excuse for not communing with Him daily! Anchor yourself in the Word! God has revealed Himself to us through His Son, Jesus Christ, and the Bible is a complete and accurate record of that revelation. And prayer is humbly letting Him love us. Let Him love you! God doesn’t need us, but He wants us! God doesn’t need us to live for Him—He wants to live in and through us! Let us love and fellowship with one another, even when you disagree! Pray for each other—the names in the church directory are a great place to start! Church, we are not only the Body of Christ, but we are the Bride of Christ. We have allowed ourselves to get bedraggled and stained—now let us stand to the glory of God! Let’s let Him purify us, restore us, and love us!

My dear Brothers and Sisters, if you have ever once been blessed by God our Father at work in me, then I urge you, please, take seriously His desire to love and work in you, beyond anything you can ask or imagine! I have told you the beginning of my story—may it end in glory to the Father, in the Name of Jesus, by way of His Spirit.

Now, what is your story?