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!