Pastor's Perspective - Nothing Even Comes Close

Pastor Bill Hybels in his book ‘Courageous Leadership’ wrote the following – “There is nothing like the local church when it’s working right. Its beauty is indescribable. Its power is breathtaking. Its potential is unlimited…Whatever the capacity for human suffering, the church has a greater capacity for healing and wholeness…No other organization on earth is like the church. Nothing even comes close.” Over the course of the last several months and particularly last week, Bill Hybels words have resonated with me deeply, as we as a congregation have been rallying behind a critically ill young man and his family.

Jonathan Booker is a hilarious ‘fireball’ of energy and faith-fueled zeal. He and his lovely wife Viola and their two sweet children simply love Jesus – and it shows. I have had the privilege of being their pastor for over 5 years now. Well over a year ago, my wife Michelle and I asked the Bookers to co-lead a brand new community (small) group) here at First Christian. We saw this as a way to meet others needs, groom ‘JB & Vi’ for leadership, and selfishly enjoy this dear couple we love so dearly. To the glory of God, over the course of 2009, we bonded tightly as a group and as a leadership team.

About midway through the year, JB began to acknowledge that something was causing him to lose both his sleep and appetite. Within a few months he lost over 50 lbs, something very unsettling for this work-out-a-holic and his wife. The source of his illness was a mystery no doctor could seem to pin-point. Finally, after an extended time in the hospital, he was diagnosed with lupus – a disease that randomly causes the body to attack itself while depleting the immune system.

After several weeks in the hospital, on Christmas morning he was moved from his private room to ICU, where his life hung in the balance. A few days later, aggressive surgery was performed to remove the source of his dire complications. As an update, last night he required another surgical procedure, with more anticipated. As of now, he remains in critical condition with bleeding challenges and a long road of recovery ahead.

Friends, if I was the ‘CEO of the Universe’, I would have never written this chapter in Jonathan Booker’s life – an unanticipated chapter filled with an endless parade of “Why’s?” However, as a believer in Jesus Christ and someone grossly unqualified to sit on Heaven’s throne, I am called to simply trust – and encourage others to do likewise. All I really know in this trial is that God is good, that God is in complete control, that God sees a grander picture we don’t, that God loves the Booker family more than all of us combined, and that God listens to pray and always answers. I also know that as the Almighty, He owes us no explanations; that anything we can ascertain is an exhibition of His grace.

Since last week I have witnessed His awe-inspiring grace. I have watched and marveled at the Bride of Christ in her most beautiful light. I’ve seen for several days now a hospital waiting room become a campground and rally site of JB and Vi’s fellow community group members and faithful church partners, all there to show support and love in its many glorious and selfless ways. Some bring food. Some sit silently and pray. Some simply cry with the crying. Some have spent the night and want to be available for any “what ifs”. We even had a spontaneous worship service on Sunday afternoon - right outside of the ICU! Tears streamed and voices sang ‘How Great is Our God’, and like Paul and Silas in a Philippian jail, patients and staff stopped and listened. Meanwhile back at the church, prayer vigils (spontaneous and planned) have been taking place daily. Every social networking avenue has been hijacked by our people as a clarion call for JB. Our FCC partners have been activating prayer chains all around the globe. Why? Because Jonathan Booker is our brother. We absolutely refuse to let go of the horns of the altar. We will not give in and we will not give up. We all know that if any of us were in the bed, the church would do the very same thing for any of us. We hold deeply that family doesn’t give up on family. We believe that there are no testimonies without trials, and we have a faith-filled vision of JB stand before us soon healthy and strong giving us his! Simply put, the church is leaning into our Father. The church is leaning into each other. The church is rallying in love. The church is taking off its bib and putting on a towel. The church is rising up. The church is being the church!

‘No other organization on earth is like the church. Nothing even comes close.’

Amen Bill!

**At 11:24 a.m. Sunday, January 3rd, Jonathan was ushered into the presence of his Maker...rewarded with the ULTIMATE healing! Although we are sad & we mourn... We are rejoicing in the ASSURANCE that he is with The Lord & we WILL see him again! PRAISE THE LORD... ALWAYS! Thank you to everyone who has prayed. Please pray for peace for his family.

Pastor's Perspective - Christmas Eve 1969

Some of you might not know this, but I’ve been writing ‘Pastor’s Perspective’ for ten years now. It began in my previous ministry as a weekly newspaper article, and now it has evolved into an online blog.

Recently I waxed sentimental when I found this article from Christmas 2002. I’m reheating it with prayer that it will resonate with you and draw utmost attention to the season’s true hero. Enjoy!

Four-year-olds are amazing! My little girl, Emma, just enraptures me. Whoever said “all daddies need a little girl” was dead-on. I mean, this child intrigues me. Not only is she the cutest child on the planet, in my somewhat biased opinion, she’s also the smartest! Her newest kick is to ask me, “Daddy, tell me stories of when you were a little boy.”

As the big 4-0 stares me in the face, remembering stories from early childhood becomes more challenging. So, if you see a graying man in a car next to yours at a stoplight rubbing his temples, that’s probably me trying to excavate a long-lost memory for Emma’s enjoyment!

This morning I was awakened by Emma’s face hovering a half a millimeter over mine. Before I could vocalize a playful “Morning. What are you doing in Mommy and Daddy’s bed?” Emma was ready for a tale from the official Steve Kiefer autobiography. “Tell me about when you were a little boy at Christmastime.”

Folks, its tough enough pulling anything out of the memory Rolodex without being season-specific! Suddenly, without warning, I went from sweet slumber to being put on the spot – a groggy game show contestant. Not wanting to disappoint my in-house investigator, I shifted my cerebellum into high gear. With a few seconds, a yuletide memory broke through the fog of time and delighted my little girl.

My first Christmas memory was of being a first-grader in suburban Tampa circa 1969. Back in those days it was not uncommon to go to school on Christmas Eve, which is where my memory transported me. The excitement on my school bus was almost unbearable. My friends and I had been counting the days until the night Santa would arrive. In my young rationality, I knew that the sooner I went to bed, the sooner Santa would come and I could wake up to wrapping-ripping splendor!

As my bus came to a halt at the mouth of our street, I ran as fast as my legs could carry me to my house. As usual, Mom met me at the door with her usual hugs and kisses. However, this was not a usual day. Didn’t Mom know who was on his way, with a sleigh-full of toys? No time for hugs! 86 the smooching!

With red and green radiating from my determined eyes, I sped toward the room I shared with my little brother. Though the bedroom door was only a few feet from my bunk bed, I must have looked like Carl Lewis long jumping onto the bed and scampering under the embroidered ‘cowboy’ covers. Sleep was my bridge to toys!

Mom, concerned by her eldest son’s frenzied behavior, followed me. She probably thought I was sick, climbing into bed at three in the afternoon! In actuality I was – I had a bad case of Santa Claus Fever! After some sweet investigation on Mom’s part, she assured me that I should get up, that Santa would be along shortly. Plus, we had to attend a family function in the country that evening. My plan was dashed.

That evening I was a nervous wreck. Aunt Ona and Uncle Clyde had a great house in the big metropolitan city of Mango (heavy sarcasm there). It was always fun to escape the city and visit our country mice relatives. Uncle Clyde let us pet his horses and pick oranges, a kick for a kid living just a half a mile from an international airport.

There was a great Christmastime Walton Mountain vibe in their home that infamous Christmas Eve, but little Stephen was distracted. I became more and more worried as the party bumped up against midnight – Santa’s ETA. Carelessly walking in on him might disturb and perturb the elf- ultimately affecting my present yield!

Upon arriving home, Dad went in first and scoped out the situation. He returned to the car and assured us that Santa had not yet arrived. My brother and I ran like scalded apes into the house, into our bedroom and under our covers. A holiday crisis had been avoided.

Emma was thoroughly entertained by my story. She flashed me an angelic Rockwell smile I never ever want to forget, and scampered out of our bedroom giggling and satisfied. Before getting up and starting my busy day, I lingered in that memory from long ago just a few minutes longer. As I rewound the tape and played it again in my mind, the Lord shared some unanticipated insight with me. No audible voices, burning bushes or blinding lights, just a still small inner impression. His Spirit reminded me that my behavior that Christmas Eve reflected something much deeper and sobering.

Like the ‘Jumping-in-bed-at-three-in-the-afternoon-Steve’, some folks are genuinely excited and ready for the return of Jesus Christ. They ache for the day when all things will be made right; when we will see again our righteous loved ones; when we’ll see the Father in all His glory with our very own eyes. They see they signs leading up to His arrival and know that it is soon.

However, the sad reality is that most folks are the ‘I-don’t-want-to-see-or-encounter-Him Steve’. God is appropriate to talk to when we want something (like sitting on Santa’s lap), but other than that we’d rather not have to deal with Him. Like the jolly elf, the Lord lives far away, He’s mega-busy, and He only rewards the “good girls and boys”. Right? The timetable on getting their lives together is perpetually on the setting – ‘Someday’. Like Santa to them, He is believed by the immature or the easily deceived among us. Right?

Friends, the Bible tells us that Jesus Christ is indeed returning soon. The signs are evident and increasing. For those looking forward to His appearing, it is a blessed promise on which we as Christians stand and smile facing our future. For those who view His return not as a fulfillment, but instead as a regretful event for which they are unprepared, it’s not too late! The Lord is not a fairy tale for the weak-minded, nor is He far from us. Instead, He is just a repentant prayer away.

He has already personally delivered the greatest gift available to you and your family this Christmas – a real, forgiving and saving relationship with Him through His resurrected Son Jesus Christ!

Why not accept that free gift by faith today? I promise, it will be a memory you’ll never regret or forget!

Merry Christmas!

Pastor's Perspective - What Would Dorothy Do?

WWJD.

We’ll never know. She was never selected!

Today I read the news story of Dorothy Killingworth, a 59-year-old from Birmingham, Alabama. Earlier this week she reported for jury duty, but was rejected. Why? Because she legally changed her name to Jesus Christ!

According to The Birmingham News, she was excused because she was disruptive and kept asking questions instead of answering them. Likewise, people were shocked when she insisted her name was Jesus Christ. Some potential jurors laughed out loud when her name was called. According to the court administrator, she didn’t attempt to get out of jury duty, instead she was “perfectly happy to serve.”

According to Fox News, “Efforts to reach Christ for comment were unsuccessful.” (With this quote, my last swig of Coke almost exited both nostrils!)

After I picked myself up off of my office floor from laughing so hard, I began to really think about this story. My conclusion was, Dorothy did a pretty good impression! Think about it.

She was disruptive. Nobody stirred up people and rocked the proverbial apple cart the way Jesus did – especially the legalistic.

She asked more questions instead of answering them. Being fully God incarnate, Jesus didn’t fit in anybody’s box! In reality, He left minions asking all kinds of questions in His wake, inquiries that are still debated today.

She was shocking. Jesus was shocking and scandalous. A ‘Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace’ who touched sores, knew beer drinking songs, lunched with scoundrels, defended the marginalized, washed the tootsies of His betrayer, and returned hope and self-worth to the guilty, rejected and labeled.

She was laughed at. So was Jesus when He declared a dead child was merely sleeping.

She was perfectly happy to serve. By His own admission, Jesus encapsulated His divine mission, ‘The Son of man came not to be served, but to serve.’ And serve He did – perfectly – completely – all the way to a Roman cross.

Friends, just a reminder that you don’t need to legally change your name to His to deepen your appreciation and imitation of Him this Christmas season.

So Dorothy, not a bad job overall. However, to this west coast pastor, you’ll always be ‘Dorothy’ to me. There’s only one Jesus Christ!

Pastor's Perspective - Twelve Minutes

Columnist Erma Bombeck said, “Thanksgiving dinners take eighteen hours to prepare. They are consumed in twelve minutes. Half-times take twelve minutes. This is not coincidence.”

Well Thanksgiving 2009 is here. Admittedly, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year. I know, as a pastor it should be Easter or Christmas, right?! However, Thanksgiving charged past the holiday pack and took the lead somewhere in recent years absolutely unannounced. I believe it got its turbo kick through my deepening appreciation for family (especially mine), and the ability to authentically embrace something we all hunger for – contentment.

Something else has changed recently. As I walk with the Lord, I’m finding that most of my prayers nowadays are bulging with, “Thank you Lord.” Where in the past, my conversations with the Father initially began with thanks as a precursor to the main thing, “Lord, please do..”; my prayers are different now. I’m enjoying just thanking Him, without asking Him for anything. As I’ve shared many times, I sincerely believe that as we seek and acknowledge His benevolent face with gratitude, His hand naturally opens.

This year I have much to me thankful for..

A Father who is on the move, continuously telling an epic redemptive love story, in which He graciously allows me to a bit player and passing cast member.

A Son who is absolutely sovereign over His everlasting Kingdom, yet loves to the point of death, and still dons a towel to serve His creation.

A Spirit that gloriously possesses permeating and transforming power to change hearts, destroy insurmountable obstacles, direct the aimless, and illuminate our darkest realities here below.

A wife who loves me despite my many foibles, is distinctly dependable, annoys me with her discernment, masterfully lassoes daily a tornado known as the Kiefer household, and is adored my her children, countless friends, and critters.

Children who continue to amaze me, tighten their grip on me, and stoke the flame of immeasurable love and pride in their Daddy’s heart.

Parents and in-laws who prove regularly that encouragement and cheerleading do not diminish with age or across time zones.

Siblings who still bring tremendous joy and laughter to their big brother.

Relatives and friends who remind me that ‘family’ and 'friendship' are God’s priceless legacies and sweetest kisses on my earthly existence.

A church of ‘real people’ that mysteriously tolerate my ‘Southernisms’, endless ‘Top Ten Lists’, my stage-stalking rants, my strike-outs, and my many weaknesses, yet, hug my neck weekly and lovingly call me their pastor.

Staff and Co-Leaders who are endlessly devoted, ridiculously talented, tirelessly zealous, and possess a miraculous gift – the ability to somehow make the lead pastor look good.

Lastly, an exciting Mission of a lifetime, big and adventurous enough to wake-up eagerly every morning and take my place in the fight.

Enjoy your twelve minutes!

Pastor's Perspective - Solitude Solution

For many years since entering the full-time ministry, I have wanted to go somewhere and have several days of solitude and uninterrupted time with the Lord. Last week that fantasy came true.

Thanks to the graciousness and generosity of many, I spent four days in a great cabin in the foothills of the Sierras. I loaded up my Beetle with some groceries, books I have been wanting to read but could never get around to, my new laptop, a few changes of clothes and my Bible, and made the scenic hour and a half drive. The cabin was beautiful, isolated and absolutely perfect for what I envisioned and needed. To add to the backdrop, the weather was fireplace chilly. There was no cell phone coverage and no television. Again, perfect.

Each morning after washing up, I’d read extended passages of Scripture at the dining room table, followed by the most captivating and moving experiences of communion in recent memory. After communion I would fix breakfast, take walks, pray, read, take drives into town, and just be still and silent before Him. I read several books in one sitting (something impossible in my weekly routine), all of the psalms, and outlined and wrote the ‘Introduction’ for the book I’m writing. The only thing I didn’t check off my list was to return back to Chelle and the kids with a big wild mountain man beard (which for anybody who knows me would have taken a merciful act of the Most High!)

Besides enjoying rest, I know that the Spirit was dealing with me, but honestly I’m not actually sure just what He did. Daily and unexpectedly, I would experience “waves” of joy and exhilaration that would result in unbridled praise and gratitude. However, just when I thought my excursion was a camp meeting, a rogue whitecap swept me away to tears of intercession and repentance. There were no burning bush or talking donkey experiences, but I knew that the wind was blowing wherever He wanted to blow, and that He was proving His mystery. I’m certain that He was filling in shallow places, while simultaneously tearing needless things in my character down. Maybe someday He’ll give me the details.

Good Lord willing, my hope is that this will be the first of many such pilgrimages. However, I must make a true confession, lest ye think mistakenly that I’m some Gibraltar of spirituality. While pecking away on my book one evening, alone in the cold dark woods, I thought of Kathy Bates walking up to me with a block of wood and a bad attitude! That night I locked my bedroom door.

Pastor's Perspective - Connecting with God? NO SWEAT!

So you want to connect with God? No sweat!

I was saddened to hear about the needless deaths of three people involved in a sweat lodge ceremony in Arizona earlier this month. The three victims were among sixty others attending a five-day retreat held by new age millionaire guru James Arthur Ray. Each person paid the $9,000 registration fee, subjecting themselves fully to a variety of life-expanding and spiritually stimulating experiences hosted by Ray and his staff. During one of these experiences, the sweat lodge, people vomited, passed out, became critically ill and even died. This tragedy is currently under investigation. Apparently, the sweat lodge ceremony was the culminating event after days of physically and mentally strenuous exercises, which involved fasting and one game in which Ray himself played God.

Sweat lodge ceremonies are closely linked with the religious practices of certain native American groups. Sometimes referred to as a ‘medicine lodge’ or a ‘medicine house’, a structure is built to facilitate a type of ceremonial sauna. In isolation and under extreme heat, the participants engage the process through drumming, chanting, and offerings to the spirit world.

God, through His Word, the Bible, has made it abundantly clear how we can and should engage Him.

First of all, we don’t need another human being to connect with God. The Apostle Paul wrote, “For there is one God and one Mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus” (1 Timothy 2:5). Simply put, our direct connection to God and unlocking the full potential of the spiritual you is through Jesus Christ exclusively – not through a guru with manipulative ideas and deep pockets.

Second, we don’t need to connect with God through physical manipulation or sensory stimulation. So many sadly rely, and are led into believing, that achieving a certain euphoric emotional state (oftentimes manipulated) is their way of ripping the veil separating us and the Almighty. Jesus told a rejected woman in Sychar, “Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks” (John 4:23).

James, a brother of Christ and leader of the Jerusalem church, wrote something so beautiful, “Come near to God and he will come near to you..” (4:8a). Friends, the cross of Christ is proof that nobody wants to connect with you more than your heavenly Father! No one paid a higher cost to forge such a precious and necessary relationship. Scripture reminds us that while we were still God’s enemies, Jesus died for us. In other words, we don’t have to torture ourselves and subject ourselves to false teachers to get it!

So, how do we authentically connect with God? The answer is simple – Jesus Christ.

Jesus said, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).

So, if you are hungry to connect with the Highest Power available, I’ve got good news for you! Put the self-help book down. ‘Void’ your $9,000 check. And, save yourself from a whole lot of physical and emotional exertion and manipulation.

God is wanting you to connect with Him today – right where you are – through the Lord Jesus Christ.

No sweat!

Pastor's Perspective - The Power of Sloppy Kisses

I wish all of you could meet my Oma!

The endearing name ‘Oma’ is a German slang for grandmother. Recently Oma was hospitalized in Reading, Pennsylvania, so she has naturally been on my mind and in my prayers. Indulge me as I share just a few things about this amazing and unforgettable 92-year-old.

Oma raised three children in the middle of WWII, while my grandfather (‘Opa’) was off fighting for the bad guys. She kept her family together in the midst of chaos in a battle-torn, dictator-led country, surviving under the harshest conditions. Following the war, she left her family and homeland for America. By way of Canada, she and Opa eventually settled in the suburbs of Buffalo, New York. It was there that my then teenage parents (Klaus & Sandy) met as neighbors, and fell hard for each other. Mom was a pretty, gregarious, brown-eyed brunette; while my Dad was a hard-working, blue-eyed foreigner, bent on destroying the English language single-handed! After a long sweetheart courtship and eventual wedding, I came along in a blinding Lake Erie snowstorm in January 1963.

I always adored my Oma. From my earliest recollection, she has always been old! After we moved to Tampa as kids, we would beg to go see her every single vacation. As a child the hardest moment was saying goodbye to her. Several days before our departure, she would already be saying things like, “In four days you go home, so far away. I hope I see you again.” She had us weeping days in advance! I laugh at that now as a 46-year-old man – crying that I’d never see Oma again - back in 1970! I still think she’s going to outlive us all.

Oma never mastered the English language, speaking only German with Opa. Oma also never drove a car, because Opa drove everywhere. Oma was a ridiculously amazing cook and housekeeper. She was a ‘hausfrau’ through and through, and wore that title with great pride and honor. She adored all her kids and grandkids (still does) and lavished us with crazy lavishing love.

Oma is my only living grandparent. Opa died several years ago, as did my wonderful grandparents on my Mom’s side (Albert & Mattie Lou Watson). Several years ago, Oma asked me to do something I’m already dreading. Oma asked me to preach her funeral someday. Naturally I’ll keep my promise, but I don’t have to like it.

With her last emergency hospitalization, I thought about the reality of keeping that promise. My mind raced back over a lifetime of priceless memories – the parties, the meals, 6-weeks in Germany with her in 1974 at age 11, the endless laughs, the hospitality, the culture and pride of heritage she instilled. Then it hit me. My favorite thing I love about Oma is this – before kissing me, she always licked her lips – big, pink, Euro lips! As grandkids, we would literally inhale when we saw her coming with a smooch. There was no escaping those drowning, smothering, lip-locks. When Oma loved you, she did it openly and all the way. Dry kisses were absolutely unheard of at Oma’s place!

Today, she would remind all of us to love your family madly and affectionately while there is time to do it, withholding nothing when it comes to love. Let’s be honest. Your kids when they grow up will most likely forget everything you buy them this Christmas. However, they will never forget the love they experienced through positive consistent physical touch. So, honor my Oma tonight when you kiss your kids goodnight. Run your tongue over your lips and get em good! Sure they’ll think it’s gross. But they’ll doze off knowing that sloppy kisses can be wiped-off, but the love gets down deep.

Thanks Oma. I love you.

Pastor's Perspective - Justice

If moral relativism wasn’t so morally disgusting, it would be laughable.

Over the last few days I’ve casually been staying tuned to this whole Roman Polanski story. For those unfamiliar with him and his work, he is an award-winning film director. His story is a fascinating one, ranging from being a Holocaust survivor, to losing his wife Sharon Tate in the infamous Manson murders, to box office stardom. Thirty-two years ago, Polanski had sexual intercourse with a 13-year old girl. Since then, the United States has had a warrant out for his arrest. After fleeing justice all these many years, Polanski was arrested this past weekend in Zurich while attending a film festival. His legal team is aggressively fighting his extradition.

What is nauseating to me is the way many are trying to sweep the past under the proverbial rug and make excuses for him. Friends, Roman Polanski raped a child! The last I heard, that is still a horrendous, despicable and arrestable offense in this land, no matter how long ago it happened.

This week, celebrities are going so far as to saying it wasn’t a “rape rape.” Huh?! Some are saying that because he survived a death camp and lost his mother at Auschwitz that justice should go lightly on him. Others say that because he lost his wife so tragically that there should be great mercy extended to him. The biggest ‘but’ camp is citing his artistic cinematic talent to be his ‘Get Out of Jail’ card. Lastly, a few say that his advancing age should be considered, or that he is philanthropic.

As a pastor, I hear the very same arguments to answer, ‘Why God should let me into Heaven’. “Well, I don’t deserve hell, because I lived it here on earth.” “I’m a good person who helps people out when I can.” “I’ve lived a long life and deserve to go.” “I shared my talent for the enjoyment of many; therefore, I should get something, right?”

Friends, Roman Polanski committed a crime. He should and will face justice for it. No excuses can justify raping a child.

Friends, all of us have committed a crime against a holy God. We’re all guilty as sin and of sin! We have absolutely no justifiable excuses for our rebellion. However, Jesus Christ condescended to His offenders, and on a Roman cross, graciously took our full penalty upon Himself, satisfying God’s divine arm of justice.

Justice = Paying the due penalty of what we deserve.

God's grace = Jesus paying the due penalty of what we deserve.

How can we turn an offer like that down?

Pastor's Perspective - Next Tuesday

Last Wednesday I restarted my weekly morning adult Bible study called ‘The Pie Club’. Our group of about 12 have begun an exciting expedition through the book of Acts.

Last week I shared the pertinent introduction stuff – author, place, recipients, themes, unique characteristics, etc. We got to Luke’s amazing account of Christ’s glorious and promised ascension before our time together ran out. The angels in the scene remind Jesus’ team that He will come back someday in the same fashion. So, we began to talk about some of those dynamics –personally, physically, suddenly, and the like. Then our group matriarch, Margaret Rickard, posed a question I’m posing to you today as a reader – “What if we knew Jesus was coming back next Tuesday. What would we do?’

The room fell awkwardly silent. I then asked each attendee what they would do, knowing that each believed that Jesus was coming back and that He would come back suddenly. The answers varied, some with tears; but there was a commonality that was unmistakable – “I would do whatever I had to to get my loved ones saved.”

What would you do if you knew Jesus was coming back next Tuesday?

Pastor's Perspective - Where Were You?

I remember the morning vividly. It was just another Tuesday morning, or so I thought. I had a jam-packed ‘To Do’ list of things to accomplish at church that day. As I got ready, I flipped on the television in my bedroom to catch a few headlines before racing off. What I saw instead was horrifying; a live national nightmare. Both of the tallest towers of the World Trade Center complex were ripped open with the unmistakable black smoke of burning jet fuel billowing above them, dissipating in the wind. Stunned, I remember reaching for my cell phone and calling my secretary at the church office and saying, “Gena, lock-up the church and go home. The world just changed.”

Since that horrible day, Michelle and I have visited the WTC site twice. ‘Surreal’ is the only word I can find to describe our time there. During our second visit we took our children. Interesting enough, as buildings and fields burned in New York, Washington D.C. and Pennsylvania, our youngest Lily was coming into the world.

Just a year before the attack, Michelle and a girlfriend had visited a childhood friend who worked as a broker for Cantor Fitzgerald at the very top of Tower 1. By fate, he relocated with another company to another city in the interim. Through sobs he shared with Michelle on the phone that evening, “They’re all gone. Everybody I worked with and introduced you to – gone.”

Where were you?

Pastor's Perspective - FOR MEN ONLY

In a church culture permeated by white-washed messages, high in motivation and self-discovery and low on Jesus, I found this following message refreshing, convicting and challenging.

I believe every man on the planet needs to take just one hour of his life and watch this sermon by Pastor Mark Driscoll of Mars Hill Church in Seattle. It's a clarion call for real men to be real men - to step-up and model authentic masculinity Jesus-style.

http://www.marshillchurch.org/media/trial/marriage-and-men

Pastor's Perspective - Just As Much Today

I love my congregation just as much today as the day we rolled into town.

Earlier this month, my family and I celebrated our 5-year anniversary in the community and at First Christian! Being a sentimentalist at heart, I stopped to reflect on our arrival in late July 2004.

I’ll never forget the phone call we received that Sunday evening. The church had flown Michelle and I out for an intensive interview weekend. After being bumped around the country by our air carrier, we arrived at the Sacramento Airport weary and a bit slap-happy from a marathon day. There to meet us with his signature grin, holding a sign that read ‘KIEFER’, was Steve Strem! He drove us to our hotel then to the church where a group was waiting eagerly to feed us and ask us a wide spectrum of questions. Throughout the weekend we met in people’s homes and continued to eat and answer questions. That Sunday morning I preached twice in a new outfit Michelle had bought me. Afterward we went back to our hotel and literally crashed! That night the church met to vote on us, while we continued to recover in our room in Fairfield. The phone rang and Steve Strem asked if I would accept their invitation to come and be their pastor. When I answered “Yes”, my heart jumped for joy, as a deafening cheer rose up on the other end of the line. Unknown to me, I was on a speaker phone with the entire congregation listening in! Many of us met for pizza afterwards to celebrate. What a beautiful unforgettable memory.

The 7-day drive out here from central Florida was another unforgettable memory. On the sixth day as we were entering the Mojave Desert, our air conditioning went out in our minivan, while I drove ahead in our big rental truck. Through God’s kindness we were able to get to Bakersfield for the evening. By that time in the trip we were exhausted, hot, frustrated and bit over it all. I remember my call to Mike Kleeman. Though I didn’t really know Mike, I knew he was an Elder and that he probably needed to know where and what his new pastor and his family were and were doing. After explaining our air conditioning challenge, I’ll never forget Mike’s words – “Sit tight. We’ll come get you.” So, the Kleeman family and the Lum family left at 3AM to get to us in Bakersfield by breakfast-time at 8! Talk about a wonderful memory and first impression of the selfless love found at FCC.

Later that evening our arrival in our new community was more of a hobble than a triumphant entry! Here we were, already leaning on our new church family, riding in among a caravan of mismatched vehicles. There to eagerly meet us and welcome us, at the house we had never seen before, ready to unload our packed Penske moving truck was the entire church!

Friends, that deep love and open-armed hospitality was here at FCC long before anybody heard of the Kiefer family. And I can say today, with fullest confidence, still exists for anyone who is looking for a real place to belong.

I love my congregation just as much today as the day we rolled into town.

Pastor's Perspective - A Greater Freedom

"My job was to do one thing, which I was honored to do, as an American and as a father," ... "I wanted those young women to be able to come home.” – Former President Bill Clinton

Earlier this week as I was preparing for the day, I watched the live coverage of the homecoming of journalists Laura Ling and Euna Lee, two Americans captured, tried, and sentenced by the North Korean government. For 140-days they became unlikely pawns in an international propaganda war between our country and one bent on rogue behavior. As the door of their shimmering jetliner opened, both women quickly descended the stairs into the open arms of their elated families. Talk about a feel good scene. Don’t we all just love happy endings?

After many tears and hugs, former president Bill Clinton regally walked down the jet stairs. In a 20-hour whirlwind trip, he had met with the North Koreans and brokered the journalists’ release – the hero of their freedom. During her brief emotion-filled statement, Laura Ling spoke of their shock and joy at going from a state of despair and hopelessness into a meeting attended by the former Commander and Chief. According to Ling, the minute she saw and met him, she knew that everything would be okay.

Again, we as Americans love happy endings. In a cinematic-saturated culture, we like it when the bad guy gets his, the Death Star and the great white shark explodes, and the good guy gets the pretty girl, riding away in a convertible while Joe Cocker belts out the chorus. We absolutely dig it! I dig it, and dug it earlier this week. As image-bearers of God, some things actually survived the Fall, namely our sense of justice and resolution.

As I enjoyed the scene being played-out in a Burbank airliner hanger, I was soberly reminded of the greatest rescue ever recorded. Think about it.

At one time, every member of the human family was held justifiably captive, by our own rebellious nature. Each one of us lived in a state of perpetual despair and hopelessness, powerless to liberate ourselves from the iron bars our sins warranted. Unlike Ling and Lee, we were absolutely guilty of treason and mutiny against a holy God. Then, just when we thought all was lost, someone left the peace and splendor of his home faraway and perfectly brokered our release – sinlessness for sin – righteousness for unrighteousness.

Wouldn’t it have been the epitome of foolishness, for Ling and Lee, after seeing and meeting Clinton to say, “No, we’re fine where we’re at. Thanks any way. We’re cool”? Instead, they were overjoyed and overwhelmed that their rescuer would come from so far away, such a powerful individual whom they had never met.

Through the person of Jesus Christ, the hero of our freedom, God the Father has liberated us.

Why?

Because as a father, He wanted us to be able to come home.

Pastor's Perspective - Kids and Church

Some kids will do anything to get out of church!

I confess that last night I had a bit of a chuckle after reading an online news story – after the fact of course. Apparently a 7-year-old boy in Utah led the police on a car chase, all in an effort to avoid going to church! After witnesses saw a child driving a Dodge Intrepid, they called the authorities who followed him at speeds up to 40 mph. Finally the boy stopped in a driveway and ran inside a home. According to the Associated Press, when the boy’s father confronted him later about his reckless behavior, the boy explained that he simply didn’t want to go to church that morning.

Several years ago back in Florida I preached a message called, ‘Dying to Get Out of Church’. The Bible text I used was the account of the Apostle Paul raising a kid named Eutychus back to life (Acts 20:7-12). Apparently the time-pressed apostle was doing a ‘Smokey & the Bandit’ message – a long way to go and a short time to get there! A young man named Eutychus was becoming groggier and groggier as he sat in the window listening. Finally he couldn’t fight slumber any longer and fell from the 3-story ledge to his death. Paul, not missing a beat, simply paused his message, marched downstairs, threw himself on the child and through God’s miraculous power, raised the boy back to life! This dramatic event proved to have little effect, as Paul just continued preaching until sunrise.

Some kids will do anything to get out of church!

I’m always saddened when someone tells me that their kids don’t like coming to church. This statement usually tells me that the child is not being intentionally and creatively reached, has made few friends, or is seeing hypocrisy or lack of ‘church’ zeal in his parents. Gratefully, I rarely if ever hear that! I’m so very blessed to pastor a congregation that makes student and children’s ministry a high priority. Where some might only pacify and warehouse kids while their parents get all the focus and creative attention, FCC is not one of those places. We value the wonderful opportunity God has given us to introduce young people to Christ at the level they can comprehend and engage Him. From our loving Nursery Ministry, to Kingdom Kids, to Awana, to Impact Student Ministries, all are fun and creative avenues led by highly dedicated leaders and volunteers trying to make positive first impressions. Our goal is for each child to know that they are unconditionally loved by their Creator, that following Jesus Christ daily is key, that the Bible is their reliable life-long guide, and that each tender life has a God-sized plan accompanying it.

So, my challenge to you is to bring your young ones to church regularly, support specialized children’s and youth ministry, volunteer selflessly, and thank those who labor with your child’s salvation and spiritual maturity at heart.

My guarantee is, your child won’t fall asleep, and, you won’t have to hide your car keys!

Drama Camp Talent Show – Friday, July 31 at 6PM
Vacation Bible School – Monday, August 3rd thru Friday, August 7th – nightly
Awana Club – Continuing September 2009
Kingdom Kids – Every Sunday morning during both services (9 & 11AM)
Impact Student Ministries – Every Wednesday (Sr High) & Thursday (Jr High) and every Sunday morning

Pastor's Perspective - Just One Promise

Fifteen years ago God called me into the full-time ministry.

For the first thirty years of my existence, I had no idea what the Lord wanted me to do with my life; but the summer of 1994 He made it abundantly clear. I remember the first few days after the calling. I was filled with relief and excitement yes, but also with some fear and anxiety.

For the hundreds who have heard my testimony over the years, I share that Michelle and I were newlyweds, only six months married. We had just bought our little “dream house”, had good jobs, lived close to family and friends, were extremely active in our home church, and were excited to start a family. Then one day, like any other day, God made an unanticipated, strong and sudden impression in me that set me on this white-knuckle ride of faith.

As mentioned, there were many fears and anxieties initially, like telling and leaving our family and friends (ie. ‘going public’), quitting our jobs, selling our house, college tuition and living expenses, and the toll this new chapter would have on a brand-new marriage.

One day while reading my Bible, I read something Jesus shared - a promise - “And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life” (Matthew 19:29). I remember being seized by that verse, unable to read on. Following God’s voice for us meant giving up ever single one of those things! Taking my open Bible to Michelle, I read it to her and said, “We either believe what Jesus promised here or we don’t. And if we don’t, we shouldn’t go into the full-time ministry.” My beautiful bride shook her head in agreement, and our adventure of releasing and expecting began.

I share this with you my readers, not to paint myself as some spiritual superhero. I am far from that. Though I’m a pastor, I’m a man who faces challenges and struggles like everyone else. The reason I shared a chapter of my story with you is because of something I have tested repeatedly and have found to be true - Jesus never fails! He made good on every single one of those things we surrendered to follow Him. By far the hardest part was parting with our family. Listen, the family we said goodbye to venturing into the unknown, God over the years has multiplied a hundred-fold all around the planet! How about that dream house we put on the market? God has literally given us houses and other supernatural housing opportunities since saying “yes” to Him! Everything we put in His hand, came back – multiplied and way better than anything we initially gave Him.

So what am I saying?

Friends, Matthew 19:29 is just one small verse of promise in the Bible, among thousands of such promises! Take it from me, His Word is strong and reliable. You can trust Him. He will not and cannot let you fall. Jesus never fails!

So when it comes to life, the choice is ultimately ours, ‘Will we stand on the promises, or sit on the premises?’ One is boring and fruitless, but the other is an adventure of a lifetime!

Pastor's Perspective - White Panel Vans

I’ve seen a lot of white panel vans in my sixteen years of ministry. They are the discrete modes of transportation funeral homes and coroners use to transport the deceased. Countless times I have been with grieving families in their homes, waiting for the white panel van to show up and take their loved ones away. The personnel change; always professional and empathetic. But one thing is predictable, that white panel van.

Yesterday my wife and I watched the live news coverage of the death of Michael Jackson. Admittedly, I wasn’t a big fan. Michelle saw him in concert on his Victory Tour in 1984. She and another 11-year-old friend rode a bus 4 hours to see him and his brothers perform at the Gator Bowl in Jacksonville. She still has the concert t-shirt! Although I wasn’t a fan, I can hardly refute his impact on the music world. My earliest recollections of him were as a child watching him on American Bandstand. Later I was intrigued by his reemergence as an artist through his earliest albums and groundbreaking videos. Admittedly, in later years, I found his behavior and appearance eclipsed any great appreciation I had for his music.

Yesterday, with LA news choppers circling overhead, the sheet-shrouded body of Michael Jackson was loaded into a white panel van.

As I watched it, I was reminded of several things. First, how many times I witnessed that personally. But secondly, and most profoundly, was the commonality of death. As I watched the sheriff workers and coroner workers move swiftly, I was reminded that we all die – that death is the great equalizer of mankind. Think about it. Who else had been transported in that same white panel van? My guess is many homeless, ‘John Does’, gang-bangers, and the desperately poor. Yet, here was the ‘King of Pop’, a personality so titanic that third-world children sing his songs, and for a day all other world events were reshuffled to the back of the line (Iran, North Korea, Governor Sanford, Farrah Fawcett, Ed McMahon, national healthcare) – sharing the same discrete death accommodations as us ‘ever-day Joes’. Yep, death is the great equalizer.

Ecclesiastes 8:8 tells us that “No one has power over the day of his death.”, and the writer of Hebrews reminds us that, “Man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgment” (9:27).

The story is told of an ambitious young law student who one day had a personal dialogue with God. The Lord asked the young man, “So, what are you going to do with your life?” The student replied, “I’m going to finish at the top of my law class!” The Lord asked, “Then what?” The student continued, “I’m going to set-out my shingle and make a lot of money!” The Lord asked, “Then what?” “Well, I’m going to find the prettiest girl I can and ask her to marry me. Then we’ll start a family!” Predictably the Lord countered, “Then what?” A bit flustered, the student responded, “I’ll retire and enjoy all the fruits of my labor.” “Then what?” After a long ponderous moment the young man looked up and said, “Well, I guess I’ll die.” The Lord, with love in His voice then asked His final question – “Then what?”

Friends, Michael Jackson’s death should force each of us to ask ourselves an honest question as the white panel van in your town waits for its next dispatch – “Then what?”

Pastor's Perspective - This Isn't It

This isn’t it.

Last night as I was dozing-off into my post-Conan slumber, I was reminded of the truth in that statement – ‘This isn’t it’. Somehow its resonation re-centered me and brought me no small infusion of peace.

Like all of you, sometimes my attention and focus gets diverted. The seen and the passing gets too much of me, rather than the unseen and eternal. I look at personal events, like the one I wrote about two blog postings ago, and wonder ‘why’. Similarly, I swim daily in the tank of church leadership, during a challenging time unprecedented in two thousand years of evangelicalism. Next, as a current events junkie, I read the headlines daily. My head has wagged repeatedly recently at the image of a young girl’s dying stare in a violent Tehran street, celebrities transcending justice, governors embarrassing their families and constituents, rogue nuclear dictators, misprioritized misspending by Teflon politicians, crashing and colliding planes, trains & automobiles, television commercials that make me run for the remote, and now, it’s apparently just too late for a certain Jon and a certain Kate! (What about the ‘Eight’ part?)

After serving as a missionary for forty years in Africa, Henry C. Morrison became sick and had to return to America. As his ocean liner docked in New York Harbor there was a great crowd gathered to welcome home another passenger on that same boat. Morrison watched as President Teddy Roosevelt received a grand welcome home party after his African safari. Resentment seized Henry Morrison and he turned to God in anger, "I have come back home after a lifetime of service to Christ and the church and there is no one, not even one person here to welcome me home." Then a still small voice came to Morrison and said, "You're not home yet."

Friends, this isn’t it. You’re not home yet.

The aging Apostle Peter identified the recipients of his first amazing epistle “aliens and strangers in the world.” As modern-day Christ followers, we can and must embrace those same titles and truths, and set our hearts and minds on eternal horizons – untouched by worldly vandalism.

Are you hanging on too tightly?
Have you put too much of your wellbeing in a president and economy?
Is this old world, with all it’s many upside down players and pieces, stealing your joy and robbing your hope?

Let me remind you friends - this isn’t it.

Better is coming, and it’ll all be worth it!

Pastor's Perspective - More Dads Needed

I’m grateful that I had a Dad.

Some might be saying, “Dufus, we all had a dad.” Of which my response is, “No we didn’t. We all had a father, but we all didn’t have dads. There’s a vast difference. And, it’s ‘Pastor Dufus’ to you!”

A father is someone who paid a minimal genetic cover charge to receive that title. Or, is someone who paid the cover, demands respect, and yet continues to pay the minimum when it comes to leading his family. Fathers are well-acquainted with terms like busyness, absence, disconnection and indifference. Sadly and tragically, the father population is rising and is at an all-time high, catalyzing most of the glaring breakdowns we see all around us. Although the economy and government are easy scapegoats for all that’s wrong, the biggest and truest culprit is the absentee Dad. More ominous than the swine flu is the pandemic of too many fathers and too few of what God intended – men being men.

In contrast, a dad is something very special and unique. He is God’s blueprint creation for the human family and society. As a matter of fact, when His creature called ‘Dad’ is actively embracing, endorsed and executing his divine role within his family and town, wives have authentic wellbeing, kids feel secure physically and in identity, neighborhoods are strong, communities flourish, society is undergirded and the world becomes a better place to live.

My Dad came to this country when he was just a teenager. During his childhood and early teen years he lived in war-torn Germany. He remembers spending long days and nights with his mother and young sisters in crowded bunkers and shelters while his father fought. He would soothe his sisters to sleep with his harmonica playing while bombs fell overhead. After the war, my grandfather moved his young family to the country of the winning side – no small humble task – especially for a thick accented former enemy with the first name ‘Adolf’! By way of ship and Canada, my Dad started life in a brand-new land with a brand-new language. His advanced age but lack of formal education landed him in the class with the youngest students. He was a bit of a sideshow, a humiliated blonde-haired, blue-eyed teenager who rolled his ‘r’s’ scrunched into a miniscule grammar school desk. To make it in the new country and to help his family, he left school and worked hard relentless hours with his hands as an apprentice wood fixture maker – the same occupation in which he would retire fifty years later.

With many societal strikes against him, Klaus Adolf Kiefer, immigrant, made it his objective to be a great dad and family man. Independent of high literacy, high salaries, and even higher social benchmarks, Dad was magnificent in his simplicity. He loved his wife, loved his three kids, was a stellar neighbor, laughed openly and frequently, served his church, paid his taxes, maintained beautiful yet modest homes, helped coach his kids sports teams, spanked when necessary, hugged us, kissed us and told us he loved us every day, enjoyed a “cold one” and a bratwurst when he could, called all dogs “flea hounds” but really liked them, led wonderful family vacations, yelled at the TV screen on Sundays when his beloved Buccaneers ran bad plays (Yes, he yelled a lot!), had a contagious wry “every guy” sense of humor, hunted and fished, ignored food labels, earned promotions regularly, smooched Mom in front of us, loved ‘old skool’ country & western music (the twangy nasally kind), read only the sports page, loved any movie with a good car chase, never fretted a ‘beer belly’, was dependable as tomorrow morning, taught us the true cost of a dollar and what a full day’s work should look like, celebrated our smallest achievements with big proud unashamed tears, and most memorably for me, would work eleven hot hours on a table saw then come home and throw backyard pass routes to his boys, with his bushy moustache still white with sawdust.

Yep, I’m grateful that I had a Dad.

Lord, help me to be one.

The world needs a whole lot more of them.

Pastor's Perspective - Family Update

Michelle and I want thank you and our church eldership for giving us this personal time away to heal, after an unanticipated episode in our lives.

As most of you might know by now, Michelle required emergency surgery and hospitalization last week to stop and repair severe internal bleeding caused by a 10 week ectopic pregnancy. You might also know that we have dealt with infertility throughout our 15 years of marriage. Therefore, you can only imagine how surprising and saddening this was and has been for us. We would never choose to rewind the clock on our lives; fully confident that God has supernaturally hand-delivered each one of our precious children to us - a plan that was HIS and was pre-destined from the beginning of time. But we are still hurting and grieving this unexpected loss in our lives. Naturally we are also so VERY grateful to God for preserving her life. Her surgeon said we came dangerously close to a very different outcome – which is also another issue that we are attempting to process and work through. Such sadness comes from finally experiencing a doctor telling us words we always longed to hear – “You’re pregnant” - only to lose that precious life. Our confidence and joy is that our baby is safe in the care of Jesus, and that one day we will meet and enjoy our child together.

Thank you for your many prayers, calls and acts of kindness. You have proven once again that “family” is not just a word at FCC, but our treasured reality.

Thank you also to our dear Elders for covering my many duties and for giving me this time to care for Michelle during her recovery and to be that parental presence my children need after a scary and tumultuous time.

My plan is to return to the pulpit on Sunday, June 14th and continue the ‘Overcoming’ series. I believe I’m even better qualified now to share that topic with you. I love you all.

In the Fight,

Steve

Pastor's Perspective - Altar-ed Minds

Do you have an altar-ed mind?

Recently I have taken a beautiful leisurely excursion down the winding river that is the unforgettable book of Genesis. The leisurely part has been my slow and intentional desire to enjoy the text like a great linen napkin meal – one appreciated bite at a time, complimented and seasoned with enjoyable dialogue. In other words, I’m thoroughly enjoying and appreciating being in the moment, and the rich privilege of having the book’s sovereign Underwriter explaining it to me.

Admittedly, as any reader of the Bible’s first book would agree, although Genesis can be read slowly, it’s hardly a tube-friendly slow-moving river. From creation to the curse to the covenant, it’s a true white knuckle ride – honest and un-sanitized for our jaw-dropping pleasure, as God establishes a people – His people.

Of particular interest to me has been the topic of altars, and the motivation behind building them. As you know, an altar was a platform or elevated place in which a sacrifice was offered to God. The first documented one was built by Noah after the Flood. The next several ones were built by the great patriarch Abraham, after he either heard God’s clear direction for his life, or, in celebratory response to a promise the Lord faithfully kept. Later his son and grandson, Isaac and Jacob would build altars for similar reasons. Later by God’s divine direction to Moses, altars would become a permanent fixture within the tabernacle and the temples. As a necessary instrument of the Old Testament sacrificial system, altars would serve as amazingly insightful foreshadowing of the One who would ultimately be the accepted propitiation for the sinful mutiny of mankind – Jesus the Christ.

As mentioned, in Genesis specifically, these physical altars served in beautiful ways. First and foremost, they were expressions of worship and sincere gratitude to the Lord for His loving kindness. But secondly, they were reminders for His people. How brilliant and how elementary! His covenant people deliberately surrounded themselves with memorials – object lessons to share with generations to follow.

As Americans, and more specifically, as American Christians, we do at best a minimal job in this area. The ancient Jews were masterful! We could and should learn from them in this area. Not only did they erect physical reminders of divine touch-points, they celebrated everything, and loved doing it. They knew something we oftentimes forget, that doing life God’s way is highly pleasurable and party-worthy. From annual festivals to benchmark celebrations of maturity within each family, people were reminded and affirmed in beautiful, meaningful and life-guiding ways.

So, I’m challenging you to identify in your life altar places and altar people. In other words, where were you when you heard the message of God’s amazing grace? That’s an altar place! Who lovingly led you to Jesus? That’s an altar person! Friends, I believe that like ancient altars, stopping and remembering these places, encounters, moments and people will fuel the fire of your worship and consume you even more as a living sacrifice. Reminder: We’re not worshiping places or people! God has spoken very clearly on the topic of idolatry. Instead, we’re stopping, remembering, and identifying the fingerprints of God.

I’ll go first. My first altar place was Weeki Wachee Christian Camp (FL), where I gave my heart to Christ in 1977 at the age of 14. Another altar place was Michelle’s and my first house together as newlyweds in Tampa where I know the Lord called me into full-time ministry one day in spring 1994. I view First Christian Church (Suisun) as my most recent altar place; a place God divinely brought me and my family, three thousand miles from family and familiar. Altar people include former ministers and mentors, dearly loyal family and friends, and my wonderful wife .

Do you have an altar-ed mind?

I challenge you to get one!

Pastor's Perspective - Kashi Take Me Away

When and where did it all fall apart? Maybe it was always falling apart, but I was too busy to notice. Maybe it was never all together!

The “it” I’m referring to is my 46-year-old bod. Now before I get down on myself too much, there is some photographic evidence floating around out there that at one time your pastor actually looked pretty good. In one yellowing photo, seen and openly mocked recently by my community group, I am sitting with my dad. Allow the theater of the mind to enrapture you now. Your spiritual leader with a small waist, tan muscular soccer legs, a curlet (curly mullet), a sparse greasy little Ralph Macchio moustache, and a brontosaurus quietly grazing the background. Ah, those were the days. Then the ice age, or maybe the ice cream age!

Reminds me of the husband who asked his wife what she liked best about him. “Is it my firm, trim, athletic, body?” She replied, “Dear, it’s your sense of humor”!

Or how about the husband who was trying to squeeze himself into an old pair of blue jeans? Wondering if his weight gain was noticeable to anybody else, he asked his wife, “Honey, do these jeans make me look like the side of the house?” “No dear, not at all,” she replied, “Our house isn’t blue.”

Recently I went to my doctor with severe knee pains. He told me that my left knee had the beginning stages of arthritis, and I had re aggravated an old injury in my right. When I asked for a second opinion he told me I was ugly too!

So, recently I jumped on the good health love train. Twice a day I (choke) gulp down a (deplorable) delicious bowl of Kashi cereal with raisins and dried cranberries. Likewise, I’m drinking enough water to put out the Santa Barbara fires, taking vitamins, keeping a food journal, and have subbed-out Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups for organic granola bars. Mmm. How do I feel? Deprived and bitter! Thanks for asking.

Seriously, after just three weeks I already feel better. I look the same, but I know I’m putting better fuel in my tank. Maybe I finally realized some stuff. First, I’ll never throw the winning touchdown pass in the Super Bowl, pitch a no-hitter at Fenway, win Mr. California, be a mic-spinning mascara’d rock star, or win the Boston Marathon. But, I can have something better – God’s good gift of high-octane energy for my active family and congregation. Second, I learned that it’s never too late. Reminds me of an album I dig! Third, my body came to me with a heavenly expectation of stewardship.

I’ve got an idea! Let’s outlive our enemies and really hack em’ off.

So let’s raise a glass of grapefruit juice and toast to shrinking love handles, splendid Splenda, and the perfect push-up!

Although, I must admit; at times, I do miss that darn brontosaurus.

Pastor's Perspective - INFUSION2

Next Saturday morning (Saturday, May 25th) we at First Christian have been given a golden opportunity – to selflessly serve our community - with no strings attached!

After a very successful INFUSION event back in September to commemorate our 30th year in the community, our FCC faithful have been asking for another high-impact follow-up event to help others – and thus INFUSION2 was born.

In recent weeks I have been thoroughly enjoying meeting and forging relationships with local city leaders. During our connections together I have expressed our strong desire as a community of faith to meet the needs of ‘real people’ just like ourselves. Their response has been overwhelmingly positive and receptive!

Our plan is to meet at 8:00A.M. for a big delicious breakfast. After getting ‘carbed-up’ we’ll dispatch by teams into the community to do a variety of things – including serving the elderly and disabled, trash pick-up and weed abatement at parks and bike trails, yard work at foreclosed and abandoned homes (to bless neighbors), and a variety of other opportunities. We’ll reconvene at noon back at the church building for a great lunch and to share praise reports!

To ensure that INFUSION2 is a big success, all of our FCC loyal are needed. We still need more team leaders, team workers, childcare workers and food preparation workers to sign-up at the church Welcome Center this Sunday. This will guarantee that we’re properly covered out in the field and back at the church building. Likewise, we are looking for the help of those who have own pick-up trucks and trailers.

We are focusing exclusively on the city of Suisun. Therefore, if you are aware of needs in that community, please contact the church office. Our ‘To Do’ list is still an exciting work in progress!

As a side note, this is a great way to invite and introduce your family and neighbors to our ministry at First Christian, and to show them that the passion and mission of our people lies outside our brick walls.

I’m looking so forward to sharing Christ’s love with you at INFUSION2 – not with megaphones and guilt, but instead with shovels, garbage bags and smiles.

In the Fight,

Steve Kiefer
www.1stchristianchurch.org

Pastor's Perspective - Git'n Figgy Wit It!

As you might already know, we at FCC take pride in identifying ourselves as ‘real people’. So, living up to that title, I’m going to attempt to remove any semblance of clergy piety and share with you a pet peeve that I have, and apparently need to jettison. Ready?

I deplore finding empty containers in the refrigerator, pantry, shower or bathroom vanity….(crickets)…. Drives me crazy!....(crickets)…Crazy!… There… I said it… Boy, I thought I’d feel better.

Michelle and I continue teaching our youngest ones to throw containers in the trash when they are empty. Why? Because it’s stratospherically frustrating to get your hopes up about something, reach for it, only to find the shell and packaging - no content within! All containers in that state just take up space. In essence, with empty toothpaste tubes, empty milk jugs, empty cereal boxes, empty shampoo containers, come empty promises and dreams (yes that last line was ridiculously melodramatic and an immediate ‘emotional leave of absence’ should follow).

In Mark 11, while Jesus and his posse were moseying out of Bethany, He saw breakfast in the distance - a fig tree. Maybe, it was the same way I occasionally see a statuesque ‘Cap’n Crunch’ box across the room some mornings when I wake up. Back to Jesus! In anticipation of getting His holy grub-on (Message), He approached the leafy tree only to find…leaves…no fruit! Could that be anything like the grotesque feel of that big wonderful pirate box of pure sugar not making a sound while I shake it? Jesus cursed it! Not, the ‘Cap’n Crunch’, the fig tree – and it withered and never bore fruit again.

So, what made Jesus so angry? I mean, its only figs, right? Well to Jesus it was more than breakfast. To Him the fig tree was a very moving metaphor into the fruitlessness of the nation of Israel and its devastating future. Over hundreds of years, He had gone to great and patient lengths to fill them up and replenish them, so that they might enjoy and represent His abiding covenant love for all the surrounding nations to see and embrace - only to find them – empty.

On a more personal and reflective note, I wonder if we ever feel empty in His hand - promising product and production, but offering little. In all of His care and patience, do we offer much more to Him than the space we utilize? Does He ever feel frustrated by all the pouring into us He does, that in return yields little fruitfulness? Suppose we ever look more available and useful on the outside, than we really are on the inside? Could our focus on ultra-religious appearances, over character, be His pet peeve?

Anybody else out there need to get more figgy wit me?

Pastor's Perspective - Speck-tators!

A young couple moved into a new neighborhood. The next morning while they were eating breakfast, the young woman saw her neighbor hanging the wash outside.
“That laundry is not very clean,” she said. “She doesn’t even know how to wash correctly. Perhaps she needs a better laundry soap. Perhaps she’s just lazy.” Her husband looked on, but remained silent.

Every time her neighbor would hang her wash to dry, the young woman would make the same comments.

About one month later, the woman was surprised to see nice clean wash on the line. She said to her husband, “Look! She’s finally learned how to wash correctly. I wonder who finally taught her.” Without looking up from his newspaper the husband replied, “I got up early this morning and cleaned our windows.”

Friends, the One who washes us and makes us whiter than snow once asked, “Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ and behold, the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.” (Matthew 7:3-5 NASB)

Just a little Windex wisdom for ‘real people’ like myself, who sometimes miss it.

Pastor's Perspective - Hawaiian Isles

Few people know that a precious chapter of my ministry training took place in Hawaiian Isles. Allow me to elaborate.

Two weeks ago my family and I had the most delightful time reconnecting with Jim and Sallie McKeown. They flew out to northern California to see the beautiful views and to see our kids! According to Jim, “The last time I was out here I saw the underside of the Golden Gate Bridge on my way to Korea. I wanted to come back some day and see the top side!”

Michelle and I first met Jim and Sallie when Emma was still a baby. Through my ‘father-in-the-faith’ Paul Neal, I heard about a large seasonal retirement community not far from our home called Hawaiian Isles. They were looking for a preacher to fill their pulpit every Sunday morning. I hadn’t prepared weekly sermons since serving a small church in inner-city Chattanooga during my last years of college; so the idea and challenge thrilled me. By God’s loving kindness, hundreds of senior saints from all over the United States and Canada took my young (and much smaller) family into their community and hearts. Our two years serving and forging deep friendships was God’s kiss on our lives and ministry. Playing ‘Monday morning quarterback’, I wouldn’t have been truly ready for my next ministry step if the Lord had not first led us to and through Hawaiian Isles. To Him and to the many dear folks who patiently sat (and slept) through my first messages there, I’m forever grateful.

Through the McKeown’s recent visit, I was reminded of something that I believe is biblical and thus very important to remember – that although we’re getting older, we don’t have to get old! One of the many things we love about them is that they are still so active, inquisitive and adventurous. Even in the face of physical challenges, they still get up and go, carrying wonderful senses of humor along the way. Throughout the Word we read about God using people in their golden years to accomplish great things in His name - Noah, Abraham, Moses to name a few. When many of their contemporaries were getting gold watches, these patriarchs were entering the workforce of faith!

Likewise, doesn’t it make sense that if God’s objective is to slowly transform each of us into the image of His Son, shouldn’t we look most like Jesus in our senior years? For the many seniors I know who have surrendered themselves daily and yearly to the Father’s slow meticulous molding process, congratulations! Well done. I appreciate you more than you’ll ever know. You are showing younger generations what a Spirit-shaped life truly looks like. That getting older doesn’t mean bitter, but better. Your legacies are priceless. And by the way, I know this pastor who someday wants to grow up, and be just like you!

Pastor's Perspective - With the Comfort We Received

Last Sunday morning, while we at First Christian were wrapping up our first service, Pastor Fred Winters was preaching his last sermon in Maryville, Illinois. While speaking to his congregation a lone gunman, 27, entered the sanctuary and approached the pulpit. The first shot struck the pastor’s Bible, sending what appeared to the audience to be confetti everywhere. The congregation initially thought it was a skit of some type. As the pastor turned away, the gunman chased him, shooting him twice. Two church members subdued the man as he attempted to flee, each suffering stab wounds. Pastor Winters died from his wounds.

This weekend, in the midst of their mourning, First Baptist Church of Maryville will welcome a guest preacher – Al Meredith from Wedgewood Baptist Church in Fort Worth, Texas.

On September 15, 1999, a gunman walked into a youth prayer rally at Wedgewood and began a shooting rampage. Seven people – four teenagers, two seminary students and a children's choir director – were killed and seven others wounded.

Pastor Meredith said that although his church shooting was nearly a decade ago, “The memories came flooding back.” He continued, “I want them to know you get through this. You’ll never get over it, but the rest of God’s kingdom around the world is praying for you.” Later he explained the reason he will occupy the pulpit this Sunday – “They’re a flock without a shepherd.”

The Apostle Paul wrote the Corinthian believers, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).

What storms have you been through in life? Too many to count? To hard to talk about?
Why did you go through those storms?
What storms are you currently in?
Why are you going through your current storms?

Friends, God never wastes our experiences – even the bad ones! He not only molds, refines and teaches us in our storms, but he deliberately uses storms to prepare our ministries for others in the future. What am I saying? Our storms are ultimately for others! He not only wants us to go through storms, He wants us to grow through storms. Why? So that we can use our past experiences and praise reports to bless and comfort others going through their rough weather seasons in life.

For my many friends and readers currently treading vigorously in the churning chin-high waves; for those boarding up windows and hunkering down, holding your families as close as possible; for those losing hope, wondering when the winds will finally cease and the battleship grey sky will be replaced by glorious sunshine again – Hang on! God is still on His throne! Storms come and storms go. Yours will eventually blow over. And through it all, remember – “I’m going through this for a reason. God is using my storm to prepare me to help someone else – perhaps several people –down the road.” Get a vision of yourself not only on the other side of your current storm, but helping someone else in God’s perfect timing. I think Pastor Al Meredith would agree.

Pastor's Perspective - Buoyant & Reliable

The story grabbed by attention for three reasons. First I’m a perennial football fan. Second, it happened where I grew up. Third, I could empathize somewhat through personal experience.

The story I’m speaking of was the tragic loss of three friends this past weekend in the Gulf of Mexico off the central coast of Florida. To briefly recap, four buddies (two NFL and two college players) went on a fishing trip that went horrendously wrong. Their vessel, in chilly windy weather, was overturned. According to Fox News, all four donned life jackets and clung to the boat. After fighting valiantly to survive for several hours after capsizing, one player removed his jacket and was swept away. A few hours later, another player unfastened his jacket and followed suit. Throughout the night, the two remaining friends stayed with the boat; until one thought he saw a light on the distance horizon, removed his jacket and swam away, never to return. The lone survivor clung to the hull of the boat for 46 hours.

Eighteen years ago, while pleasure boating with some friends in that very same body of water, an unanticipated storm caught us off guard. Instead of the powerful weather cell hitting us gulf-to-shore, it quickly blew in without warning shore-to-gulf, separating us from the safety of port. In a mad dash to reach the dock, we sped head-long into heavy rain and tall churning waves. To add insult to injury, nightfall swept over us, leaving us absolutely disoriented and fearful that our boat might flip over. After several hours of unprecedented terror and a radically rejuvenated prayer life, the US Coast Guard found us, drenched and cold, bobbing in the blackness, and towed us back to land. To this day I wonder how my story could have dramatically changed that night.

More than a regrettable news story, I see the events of this past weekend as a modern-day parable of sorts. Let me explain.

I believe that the three decisive actions of these four buddies reflect the ways millions are responding to the storms we are currently encountering in America and even in the church. Some, after fighting the best they can, have just lost all semblance of hope. For them, there is no sign of rescue. All they see is struggle without answers, darkness without dawn. Sadly, their hopelessness can be contagious. Still others, desperate for something better, find themselves swimming frantically away from the familiar toward the uncertain and unknown. Finally, others stay with what they know - that which has proven so far to be buoyant and reliable.

Friends, Jesus told us in Matthew 24:35, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.” Likewise in Matthew 16:18, He stated that even the gates of hell would not prevail against His bride the church. Some would say that the Bible and the church are outdated and no longer relevant to real life. In other words, they are no longer buoyant and reliable for our generation. However, Jesus Christ tells us something quite different! He promises that in the middle of the ominous storms of all kinds that threaten to capsize your life and future, you can cling to His Word, find real hope in His promises and find true rescue with His people.

Please join me in praying for the families and friends of Marquis Cooper, Corey Smith and Will Bleakley, and for the recuperation of Nick Schuyler.

Pastor's Perspective - Who Led You To Jesus?

Who led you to Jesus?

Recently I began re-reading the book ‘Just As I Am’, the autobiography of Dr. Billy Graham. Of particular interest to me were the chapters sharing the accounts of his calling into the family of God and his calling into the ministry.

As a hard-working 16 year-old working his family’s dairy farm in North Carolina, Billy had many things on his mind besides religion. He grew up fundamentally a good kid in a good church-going family. His primary passions were like most boys his age, playing sports and dating the prettiest girls that would say ‘yes’.

In November 1934, a Baptist evangelist named Mordecai Ham held a well-publicized revival near the family farm in Charlotte. Billy was immediately wary, and wanted nothing to do with anyone called ‘an evangelist’. In an attempt to pacify his family members who urged him to attend, he reluctantly agreed to one service. After one visit he was hooked! He found himself thinking about the Lord constantly and began attending the services nightly. Billy said that it seemed like the evangelist was “always pointing his bony finger at me.” To avoid the uncomfortable conviction Billy was experiencing, he enrolled in the large choir – sitting behind the fiery preacher to avoid direct eye contact! Then one night during the Invitation, Ham “gave us a gentle reminder: “But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8, KJV). His song leader, Mr. Ramsay, led us all in “Just As I Am’ – four verses. Then we started another song: “Almost Persuaded, Now to Believe.” On the last verse of that second song, I responded.”

Just as Mordecai Ham was one of the human vessels God used to lead ‘America’s Pastor’ to Himself, I can rewind my life to personalities who made invaluable investments in my connection with Christ. I have two loving parents (Klaus Kiefer & Sandra Stambaugh) who prayed for me and made church attendance a high priority for us children. I had maternal grandparents (Albert & Mattie Lou Watson) who modeled sweet dedication to God and who prayed for their grandchildren daily. I had Sunday School teachers who probably never were thanked adequately, yet never gave up on us rowdy rambunctious bunch. And there were the preachers, like John Franklin, Ray Beeson, and Gerald McAllister - men who inspired me, challenged me, taught me, bored me, loved me. Later in life, the Father would kindly use Michelle Hartman (soon to be Michelle Kiefer), her parents (Johnny & Jill Hartman), Tom Stambaugh (my stepfather), Paul Neal (my father in the faith), Steve Trinkle and a few others.

Who led you to Jesus?

Have you stopped and thanked the good Lord for them lately?

Have you stopped and asked the good Lord to be one of them lately?