Pastoral Resources

In June 1989 a 19-year-old German named Mathias Rust created quite a stir when he flew a Cessna 172 airplane more than 400 miles into Soviet airspace. Rust’s five-hour trip ended when he landed his plane near the Kremlin in Moscow. Soviet officials then scrambled to find out how a teenage could slip past their air defenses. Apparently radar had picked up the craft, but it was presumed to be a Soviet plane and no attempt was made to identify it. Later, air force jets twice flew around the intruding Cessna, but air defense commanders showed “intolerable unconcern and indecision about cutting short the flight of the violator plane without resorting to combat means,” the investigation concluded

Are you interested in being a vegetarian, but concerned that you might not be able to adjust? Not to worry�you can become a flexitarian. As vegetarianism gains in popularity and increases its market niche, a variation has developed. The flexitarian is a person who eats primarily vegetables, but also indulges occasionally with meat.

The designation fits people like 28-year-old Christy Pugh, who says, �I usually eat vegetarian. But I really like sausage.�

Christy says, �Sometimes I feel like I'm a bad vegetarian, that I'm not strict enough or good enough. I really like vegetarian food, but I'm just not 100 percent committed� (John Beukema, Western Springs , Illinois ; source: "Are You a 'Flexitarian?" MSNBC.com, 3-16-04 , from preachingtoday.com).

In the June, 1980 issue of Our Daily Bread, I told how a Christian providentially escaped death. An unexpected delay in New York kept him from catching Flight 191 in Chicago, which crashed with all 254 aboard. That article brought this note from a reader: “I just had to let you know about one of God’s great saints who ran to make Flight 191—and made it!” His name was Edwards E. Elliott, beloved pastor of the Garden Grove Orthodox Presbyterian Church in California. His plane from Pennsylvania was late, and a friend who had accompanied him to Chicago said he last saw him “dashing forward” in the terminal to make his connection. As I read about Pastor Elliott’s fruitful ministry, the question I raised in that June devotional challenged me with new urgency: “Was Divine providence operating only in New York and not in Chicago?” Immediately the words of my correspondent came alive: “At the time, Reverend Elliott didn’t know he was indeed running to Heaven...Mrs. Elliott and her four married children comforted the entire church. Their Christian faith and testimony in sorrow was most extraordinary.”

- D.J.D.

It was Flight 401 bound for Miami from New York City with a load of holiday passengers. As the huge aircraft approached the Miami Airport for its landing, a light that indicates proper deployment of the landing gear failed to come on. The plane flew in a large, looping circle over the swamps of the Everglades while the cockpit crew checked out the light failure. Their question was this, had the landing gear actually not deployed or was it just the light bulb that was defective?

To begin with, the flight engineer fiddled with the bulb. He tried to remove it, but it wouldn’t budge. Another member of the crew tried to help out … and then another. By and by, if you can believe it, all eyes were on the little light bulb that refused to be dislodged from its socket. No one noticed that the plane was losing altitude. Finally, it dropped right into a swamp. Many were killed in that plane crash. While an experienced crew of high-priced and seasoned pilots messed around with a seventy-five-cent light bulb, an entire airplane and many of its passengers were lost. The crew momentarily forgot the most basic of all rules of the air—“Don’t forget to fly the airplane!”

The same thing can happen to the local church. The preacher and elders can be so busy fighting petty fires and focusing so much of their attention on insignificant issues that they lose sight of what church is all about. The church can have so many activities, programs, projects, committee meetings, banquets, and community involvements—so many wheels spinning without really accomplishing anything of eternal significance—that the congregation forgets its primary objective.

Many churches are like that impressive invention which had hundreds of wheels, coils, gears, pulleys, belts, bells and lights which all went around and around and flashed at the touch of a button. When the inventor was asked about the function of the weird machine, he replied, “What does it do? Oh, it doesn’t do anything, but doesn’t it run beautifully?”

Let’s not be like Flight 401 or the invention that doesn’t do anything! Our primary objective is to win this lost world to Jesus Christ.

The photographer for a national magazine was assigned to get photos of a great forest fire. Smoke at the scene hampered him, and he frantically called his home office to hire a plane. “It will be waiting for you at the airport!” he was assured by his editor. As soon as he got to the small, rural airport, sure enough, a plane was warming up near the runway. He jumped in with his equipment and yelled, “Let’s go! Let’s go!” The pilot swung the plane into the wind and soon they were in the air. “Fly over the north side of the fire,” said the photographer, “and make three or four low, level passes,” “Why?” asked the pilot. “Because I’m going to take pictures!” said the photographer with great exasperation. “I’m a photographer, and photographers take pictures!”

After a long pause the pilot said, “You mean you’re not the instructor?”

Men who live in the past remind me of a toy I’m sure all of you have seen. The toy is a small wooden bird called the “Floogie Bird.” Around the Floogie Bird’s neck is a label reading, “I fly backwards, I don’t care where I’m going. I just want to see where I’ve been.

When she was young, Florence Chadwick wanted desperately to be a great speed swimmer. At the age of six she persuaded her parents to enter her in a 50-yard race. She came in last, so she practiced every day for the new year. Again she entered and lost. When she was an 11-year old, Florence won attention and praise for completing the San Diego Bay endurance swim—6 miles in all. But she still wanted to be a speed swimmer. At 14 she tried for the national backstroke championship but came in second to the great Eleanor Holm. At 18 she tried out for Olympic speed swimming and came in fourth—only three made the team. Frustrated, she gave it up, married, and moved on to other interests. As she matured, however, Florence began to wonder if she might not have done better if she had specialized in endurance swimming, something that came more naturally. So, with the help of her father, she began swimming distances again. Twelve years after she had failed to make the Olympic team, Florence Chadwick swam the English Channel, breaking Gertrude Ederle’s 24-year-old record. It took a little time, but eventually she found out what she could do best and did it.

From the booklet Bits and Pieces comes an interesting story about Florence Chadwick, the first woman to swim the English Channel in both directions. On the Fourth of July in 1951, she attempted to swim from Catalina Island to the California coast. The challenge was not so much the distance, but the bone-chilling waters of the Pacific. To complicate matters, a dense fog lay over the entire area, making it impossible for her to see land. After about 15 hours in the water, and within a half mile of her goal, Chadwick gave up.

Later she told a reporter, “Look, I’m not excusing myself. But if I could have seen land, I might have made it.” Not long afterward she attempted the feat again. Once more a misty veil obscured the coastline and she couldn’t see the shore. But this time she made it because she kept reminding herself that land was there. With that confidence she bravely swam on and achieved her goal. In fact, she broke the men’s record by 2 hours!

It was a fog-shrouded morning, July 4, 1952, when a young woman named Florence Chadwick waded into the water off Catalina Island. She intended to be the first woman to swim the 21 miles from the island to the California coast. Long-distance swimming was not new to her; she had been the first woman to swim the English Channel in both directions.

The water was numbing cold that day. The fog was so thick she could hardly see the boats in her party. Several times sharks had to be driven away with rifle fire. She swam more than 15 hours before she asked to be taken out of the water. Her trainer tried to encourage her to swim on since they were so close to land, but when Florence looked, all she saw was fog. So she quit… less than one-mile from her goal.

Later she said, “I’m not excusing myself, but if I could have seen the land I might have made it.” It wasn’t the cold or fear or exhaustion that caused Florence Chadwick to fail. It was the fog.

Many times we too fail, not because we’re afraid or because of the peer pressure or because of anything other than the fact that we lose sight of the goal. Maybe that’s why Paul said, “I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:14).

Two months after her failure, Florence Chadwick walked off the same beach into the same channel and swam the distance, setting a new speed record, because she could see the land.

- John Cochran

What you can plan to face:

Malaria

Four kinds of deadly poisonous snakes

Scorpions

Crocodiles

Alligators

Three species of poisonous spiders

Shark-infested waters

Leading in cancer deaths (skin cancer)

Lightning deaths #1 (every square mile 50 times per year average)

Highest crime rate

Bicycle deaths # 1

Hurricanes.

In spite of this, more people are moving to this “mission field” than any other. Maybe you’ve figured out where this mission field is—It’s right here in the U.S.—Florida.

1,000 people per day move to Florida.

A young business owner was opening a new branch office, and a friend decided to send a floral arrangement for the grand opening. When the friend arrived at the opening, he was appalled to find that his wreath bore the inscription: “Rest in peace.”

Angry, he complained to the florist. After apologizing, the florist said, “Look at it this way—somewhere a man was buried under a wreath today that said, ‘Good luck in your new location.’“

A New York City businessman decided to avoid a $20 service charge by replacing a fluorescent light himself. After he had smuggled a new light into his office and put it in place, he decided to get rid of the old tube by throwing it in the trash can near his subway stop. That night he got on the subway holding the seven-foot light vertically, with one end resting on the floor of the car. As the train became more crowded other passengers took hold of the tube, assuming it was a stanchion. By the time the man reached his stop, he simply removed his hand and exited the car, leaving the other passengers gripping the fluorescent tube!

It is gratitude that prompted an old man to visit an old broken pier on the eastern seacoast of Florida. Every Friday night, until his death in 1973, he would return, walking slowly and slightly stooped with a large bucket of shrimp. The sea gulls would flock to this old man, and he would feed them from his bucket.

Many years before, in October, 1942, Captain Eddie Rickenbacker was on a mission in a B-17 to deliver an important message to General Douglas MacArthur in New Guinea But there was an unexpected detour which would hurl Captain Eddie into the most harrowing adventure of his life. Somewhere over the South Pacific the Flying Fortress became lost beyond the reach of radio. Fuel ran dangerously low, so the men ditched their plane in the ocean. For nearly a month Captain Eddie and his companions would fight the water, and the weather, and the scorching sun. They spent many sleepless nights recoiling as giant sharks rammed their rafts. The largest raft was nine by five. The biggest shark...ten feet long. But of all their enemies at sea, one proved most formidable: starvation.

Eight days out, their rations were long gone or destroyed by the salt water. It would take a miracle to sustain them. And a miracle occurred. In Captain Eddie’s own words, “Cherry,” that was the B-17 pilot, Captain William Cherry, “read the service that afternoon, and we finished with a prayer for deliverance and a hymn of praise. There was some talk, but it tapered off in the oppressive heat. With my hat pulled down over my eyes to keep out some of the glare, I dozed off.” Now this is still Captain Rickenbacker talking... “Something landed on my head. I knew that it was a sea gull. I don’t know how I knew, I just knew. Everyone else knew too. No one said a word, but peering out from under my hat brim without moving my head, I could see the expression on their faces. They were staring at that gull. The gull meant food, if I could catch it.” And the rest, as they say, is history.

Captain Eddie caught the gull. Its flesh was eaten. Its intestines were used for bait to catch fish. The survivors were sustained and their hopes renewed because a lone sea gull, uncharacteristically hundreds of miles from land, offered itself as a sacrifice. You know that Captain Eddie made it. And now you also know that he never forgot. Because every Friday evening, about sunset on a lonely stretch along the eastern Florida seacoast you could see an old man walking white-haired, bushy-eyebrowed, slightly bent. His bucket filled with shrimp was to feed the gulls...to remember that one which, on a day long past, gave itself without a struggle like manna in the wilderness.

Some years ago when I was learning to fly, my instructor told me to put the plane into a steep and extended dive. I was totally unprepared for what was about to happen. After a brief time the engine stalled, and the plane began to plunge out-of-control. It soon became evident that the instructor was not going to help me at all. After a few seconds, which seemed like eternity, my mind began to function again. I quickly corrected the situation. Immediately I turned to the instructor and began to vent my fearful frustrations on him.

He very calmly said to me, “There is no position you can get this airplane into that I cannot get you out of. If you want to learn to fly, go up there and do it again.” At that moment God seemed to be saying to me, “Remember this. As you serve Me, there is no situation you can get yourself into that I cannot get you out of. If you trust me, you will be all right.” That lesson has been proven true in my ministry many times over the years.

Dr. Andrew Bonar told a story of a plain man in one of the Scottish Presbyterian country churches who had learned the precious doctrine of Christ's promised return for His own. He had spent a Sunday in Edinburgh to play the part of a sermon taster. When he returned to his village, the people asked him how he liked the Edinburgh preachers. His reply was, "They all fly on one wing. They all preach the first coming of Christ, but they do not preach His second coming."

Have you ever wondered why the Canadian geese fly only in the V formation? For years specialists in aerodynamics wondered the same thing.

Two engineers calibrated in a wind tunnel what happens in such a V formation. Each goose, in flapping his wings, creates an upward lift for the goose that follows. When all the geese do their part in the V formation, the whole flock has a 71 percent greater flying range than if each bird flew alone. Each depends upon the other to get to its destination.

Something else-When a goose begins to lag behind, the others "honk" it back into place.

Now, let us learn from God's animal creation. The church needs to fly in a spiritual V formation, "honking" one another into steadfastness. And it must be at least 71 percent easier to live the faithful Christian life flying with the flock as opposed to going it alone. "Let us consider one another, to provoke unto love and to good works" (Heb 10:24).

Once a spider built a beautiful web in an old house. He kept it clean and shiny so that flies would patronize it. The minute he got a “customer” he would clean up on him so the other flies would not get suspicious. Then one day this fairly intelligent fly came buzzing by the clean spider web. Old man spider called out, “Come in and sit.” But the fairly intelligent fly said, “No, sir. I don’t see other flies in your house, and I am not going in alone!” But presently he saw on the floor below a large crowd of flies dancing around on a piece of brown paper. He was delighted! He was not afraid if lots of flies were doing it. So he came in for a landing. Just before he landed, a bee zoomed by, saying, “Don’t land there, stupid! That’s flypaper!” But the fairly intelligent fly shouted back, “Don’t be silly. Those flies are dancing. There’s a big crowd there. Everybody’s doing it. That many flies can’t be wrong!” Well, you know what happened. He died on the spot. Some of us want to be with the crowd to badly that we end up in a mess. What does it profit a fly (or a person) if he escapes the web only to end up in the glue?

An average person’s anxiety is focused on :

40% -- things that will never happen

30% -- things about the past that can’t be changed

12% -- things about criticism by others, mostly untrue

10% -- about health, which gets worse with stress

8% -- about real problems that will be faced

When we seek to win others to Christ, we must never think we possess any power in ourselves or lead others to believe we do through any air of superiority or lightness as we proclaim the gospel. We would do well to heed the advice of Dr. Payson, who said, "Paint Jesus Christ upon your canvas, and then hold Him up to the people; but hold Him up so that not even your little finger can be seen."

Fold up the tent!

The sun is in the West.

Tomorrow my untainted soul will range

Among the blest.

And I am well content,

For what is sent, is sent,

And God knows best.

Fold up the tent,

And speed the parting guest!

The night draws on, though night and day are one

On this long quest.

This house was only lent

For my apprenticement—

What is, is best.

Fold up the tent!

Its tenant would be gone,

To fairer skies than mortal eyes

May look upon.

All that I loved has passed,

And left me at the last

Alone!—alone!

Fold up the tent!

Above the mountain’s crest,

I hear a clear voice calling, calling clear,—

“To rest! To rest!”

And I am glad to go,

For the sweet oil is low,

And rest is best!

John Oxenham

"And another also said, 'Lord, I will follow Thee; but let me first go bid them farewell which are at home at my house.'And Jesus said to him, 'No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God'" (Luk_9:61-62).

"I will follow You, Lord, but first let me see if my parents approve."

"I will follow You, Lord, but first let me go to a few more parties. And as soon as I get that out of my system, I will settle down."

"I will follow You, Lord, but first let me get married. As soon as I establish a home, I will follow you."

"We will follow You, Lord, but first let us raise our children. They are so small now, and it is difficult to carry them along while following You."

"We will follow You, Lord, but first let us get our children through high school. We have to work six days a week to pay the bills, and the children are so busy with school activities that there just is not time to follow You."

"I would like to follow You now, Lord, but I must first see if my husband will come, too. I do not want to follow You alone."

"I will follow You, Lord, but first let me retire. Then I will have time to follow you."

"I would like to follow You, Lord, but it is too late now. I have not done it all these years, and You cannot teach an old dog new tricks."

Death comes at last, and the day of salvation is over. One is separated from God eternally because one put off following Christ until it was too late.

Beecher, that great preacher, once said, "If the architect of a house had one plan and the contractor had another, what conflicts would there be! How many walls would have to come down, how many doors and windows would need to be altered before the two could harmonize! Of the building of life, God is the architect, and man is the contractor. God has one plan, and man has another. Is it strange that there are clashings and collisions?" How much better if the contractor follows the Architect's plan. How wonderful for man to accept God's will for his life without any questioning whatsoever.

Eli Black was a brilliant businessman best known for two events in his life: He masterminded the multimillion dollar takeover of the United Fruit conglomerate, and he jumped to his death from the 42nd floor of the Pan Am building in New York City.

In the book An American Company, an executive described a business lunch he had with Eli Black. When the waitress brought a plate of cheese and crackers as an appetizer, Black reached out and took them, placed them on the table, blocked them with his arms, and continued talking. The executive hadn’t eaten for hours and hinted that he would like a cracker. But Black acted as though he hadn’t heard him and went on with the business meeting.

After a while, Black placed a cracker and cheese on the tips of his fingers and continued to talk. Several moments later, Black placed the cracker on the executive’s plate and then blocked the rest as before. It was clear that Black was in charge, manipulating others as he pleased.

When you play “follow the leader,” check to see who is at the head of the line. Eli Black, for all his power, ended up in suicide. Jesus Christ, in all His humility, ended up the Savior of the world.

I said: Let me walk in the field.

God said: Nay, walk in the town

I said: There are no flowers there.

He said: No flowers, but a crown.

I said: But the sky is black, there is

nothing but noise and din.

But He wept as He sent me back,

“There is more,” He said. “There is sin.”

I said: But the air is thick, and fogs are

veiling the sun.

He answered: Yet souls are sick, and

souls in the dark undone.

I said: I shall miss the light, and friends

will miss me, they say.

He answered me: Choose tonight, if I

am to miss you, or they.

I pleaded for time to be given;

He said: Is it hard to decide?

It will not seem hard in heaven to have

followed the steps of your Guide.

I cast one look at the fields,

Then set my face to the town;

He said: My child, do you yield? Will

you leave the flowers for the crown?

Then into His hand went mine,

and into my heart came He;

And I walk in a light Divine,

the path I had feared to see.

- George MacDonald

Kapitango Kusita, an evangelist overseer of an African Church, was talking about following the "white" path, and the "white" path only. It was night, and a crowd of natives sat around the campfire. A native dog passed between the fire and the listeners. "Look at that dog! How many legs has it?" asked the preacher. "Four," came the reply. "Yes, four indeed," retorted Kapitango, "but have you ever seen the four legs of a dog trying to follow more than one path at a time? No, no! The four all go together; yet people with only two legs try to follow two paths: Christ and the world, God and mammon."

Some men become proud and insolent because they ride a fine horse, wear a feather in their hat or are dressed in a fine suit of clothes. Who does not see the folly of this? If there be any glory in such things, the glory belongs to the horse, the bird and the tailor. - St. Francis de Sales

For some reason, it is easier to jump to negative conclusions about people than it is to assume the best abou them. When we do this, we ascribe to them bad intentions and evil purposes that may not be true. We also reveal something about ourselves, for the faults we see in others are actually are reflection of our own.

In his little book Illustrations of Bible Truth, H. A. Ironside pointed out the folly of judging others. He related an incident in the life of a man called Bishop Potter.

"He was sailing for Europe on one of the great transatlantic ocean liners. When he went on board, he found that another passenger was to share the cabin with him. After going to see the accommodations, he came up to the purser's desk and inquired if he could leave his gold watch and other valuables in the ship's safe. He explained that ordinarily he never availed himself of that privilege, but he had been to his cabin and had met the man who was to occupy the other berth. Judging from his appearance, he was afraid that he might not be a very trustworthy person.

The purser accepted the responsibility for the valuables and remarked, 'It's all right, bishop, I'll be very glad to take care of them for you. The other man has been up here and left his for the same reason!'"

Here are some tongue-in-cheek food safety “facts” from New York’s Miner Institute:

Nearly all sick people have eaten carrots. Obviously, the effects are cumulative.

An estimated 99.9% of all people who die from cancer and heart disease have eaten carrots.

99.9% of people involved in car crashes ate carrots within 60 days of their accidents.

93.1% of juvenile delinquents come from homes where carrots are served regularly.

Among the people born in 1839 who later ate carrots, there has been a 100% mortality rate.

Henry M. Stanley found Livingstone in Africa and lived with him for some time. Here is his testimony: "I went to Africa as prejudiced as the biggest atheist in London, but there came for me a long time for reflection. I saw this solitary old man there and asked myself, 'Why on earth does he stop here-is he cracked, or what? What is it that inspires him?' For months after we met, I found myself wondering at the old man carrying out all that was said in the Bible- 'Leave all things and follow Me.' But little by little his sympathy for others became contagious. My sympathy was aroused, seeing his piety, his gentleness, his zeal, his earnestness, and how he went about his business. I was converted by him, although he had not tried to do it."

The job of a football coach is to make men do what they don’t want to do, in order to achieve what they’ve always wanted to be.

In recent years a head coach divorced his wife of 26 years when he left coaching a college team to become head coach in the National Football League. He said he needed a wife while coaching on the college level for social functions and to show families that he would be looking out for their sons. In pro football, however, she was an unnecessary accouterment and a distraction to winning. He said winning football was his number one priority and his two sons second. How tragic!

In contract to this, Tom Landry, former coach of the Dallas cowboys said, “The thrill of knowing Jesus is the greatest thing that ever happened to me … I think God has put me in a very special place, and He expects me to use it to His glory in everything I do … whether coaching football or talking to the press, I’m always a Christian … Christ is first, family second and football third.”

You’ve been given a free ticket to a football game. A snowstorm the night before makes the drive to the stadium risky. Would you go? Okay: same game, same snowstorm—except these time you paid $100 for the ticket. Now would you go?

According to University of Chicago economist Richard Thaler, people are more likely to take a risk if they paid for the ticket. But, as Thaler points out, “The fact that you spent $100 shouldn’t matter when you decide between the reward of seeing the game and the risk of getting killed.” Two all-too human tendencies come into play here. the first is the “sunk-cost fallacy”—the idea that having paid for something, you had better not waste it, no matter what the consequences. The second is “loss aversion”—the fact that people place about twice as much significance on a loss as on a gain. In other words, they are twice as unhappy about losing $100 as they are pleased about making $100.

I have often wondered what would happen if football coaches approached their work like most youth ministers are expected to. For example, I wonder what would happen if when a player was too busy to show up for practice, the understanding coach simply said, “We’ll miss you. I hope you’ll be able to make it next week sometime.” Imagine the players leaving practice and hearing the smiling coach say, “Thanks for coming. I hope you’ll come back tomorrow.”

If a football team operated like a typical youth ministry, we might expect concerned parents to call the coach, saying, “Can you tell me what’s been going on in practice? My son says it’s boring, and he doesn’t want to come anymore. I was wondering, could you make it a little more fun for them? And by the way, you might want to talk to the coach at the school across town. He seems to have the right idea.” The coach might send out quarterly questionnaires about what the players would like to change about the team (I can just imagine the answers: “shorter practices,” “more winning”).

A coach, responding like a typical youth minister, might first feel guilty that the practices were not meeting the boy’s needs, and he would try to adjust his program to suit this boy (and every other boy who complained). Between trying to keep everybody happy and giving every student a good experience, the coach would squeeze in a little football practice. And what kind of season would this coach have? It’s a safe bet that the coach wouldn’t be the only one who felt like a loser.

But this is the very way that most churches expect to run their youth ministries. To expect that youth be committed to the church at the same level of commitment that would be expected on an athletic team would draw the charge of legalism and of religious individualism that the expectation of commitment to the church has become implausible to most Christian parents. Because the god of individualism pressures us to program to the lowest common denominator, we seldom raise the expectations high enough for teenagers to experience real community.

Real community means real responsibility for each other. It means a commitment to be there for each other even when the schedule is tight and when motivation is low. But the typical Christian adult in our culture knows little about commitment to community.

I have often wondered what would happen if football coaches approached their work like most youth ministers are expected to. For example, I wonder what would happen if when a player was too busy to show up for practice, the understanding coach simply said, “We’ll miss you. I hope you’ll be able to make it next week sometime.” Imagine the players leaving practice and hearing the smiling coach say, “Thanks for coming. I hope you’ll come back tomorrow.”

If a football team operated like a typical youth ministry, we might expect concerned parents to call the coach, saying, “Can you tell me what’s been going on in practice? My son says it’s boring, and he doesn’t want to come anymore. I was wondering, could you make it a little more fun for them? And by the way, you might want to talk to the coach at the school across town. He seems to have the right idea.” The coach might send out quarterly questionnaires about what the players would like to change about the team (I can just imagine the answers: “shorter practices,” “more winning”).

A coach, responding like a typical youth minister, might first feel guilty that the practices were not meeting the boy’s needs, and he would try to adjust his program to suit this boy (and every other boy who complained). Between trying to keep everybody happy and giving every student a good experience, the coach would squeeze in a little football practice. And what kind of season would this coach have? It’s a safe bet that the coach wouldn’t be the only one who felt like a loser.

But this is the very way that most churches expect to run their youth ministries. To expect that youth be committed to the church at the same level of commitment that would be expected on an athletic team would draw the charge of legalism and of religious individualism that the expectation of commitment to the church has become implausible to most Christian parents. Because the god of individualism pressures us to program to the lowest common denominator, we seldom raise the expectations high enough for teenagers to experience real community.

Real community means real responsibility for each other. It means a commitment to be there for each other even when the schedule is tight and when motivation is low. But the typical Christian adult in our culture knows little about commitment to community.

Imagine that we are TV sportscasters standing on the sidelines of a football game to give the play-by-play.

Scene #1: The team nearest us is standing together, heads bowed in prayer, with the coach in the center. Suddenly they give a great cheer, and the coach trots out onto the field by himself. The players go sit on the bench.

“What’s going on?” we ask as we stick a microphone in front of a 250 pound guard. “What’s the coach doing out there?”

“Oh, he’s going to play today.”

“All by himself?”

“Sure, why not? He’s had a lot more experience and training than the rest of us. We’ve got a lot of rookies on this team, and we might make mistakes. Anyway, they pay the coach well. We’re all here to cheer and support him—and look at the huge crowd that’s come to watch him play!”

Bewildered, we watch as the opposing team kicks off. The coach catches the ball. He valiantly charges upfield, but is buried under eleven opposing tacklers. He’s carried off half-conscious...

You think that’s ridiculous? But isn’t it the picture many of us have of the church? The members expect the minister to do the preaching, praying, witnessing, and visiting because he’s paid to do the Lord’s work and he’s better trained. But listen to God’s Game Plan. According to Ephesians 4:11, 12, Christ has given the church apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers “to prepare God’s people for works of service.” God gives leaders to the church, not to do all the work, but to help all of God’s people to do it! Lay people are not there simply to pay pastors and evangelists to do the Lord’s work. Rather, pastors, evangelists, and teachers are to equip the so-called lay people to be ministers!

Your pastor is meant to be a kind of playing coach. His main function is to help you as a Christian discover your spiritual gifts, develop them, and use them to build up the Body of Christ.

Now look at Scene #2: The team realizes they’ve all got to play, so they’re on the field in a huddle. They huddle...and huddle...and huddle. The referee calls a penalty for delaying the game and moves the ball back five yards. Still the team huddles, huddles, and huddles. The referee calls penalty after penalty, until finally the ball is moved all the way back to their own goal line.

“Hey coach!” shouts the quarterback to the sidelines. “This is the greatest huddle I’ve ever been in. What a group of guys! We have the best fellowship...and some of these guys are amazing students of the play book. Some have memorized over a hundred plays and can analyze them precisely. We learn so much in this huddle!”

“But why don’t you get up on the line and play?”

“Why should we? What we want are bigger and better huddles! Besides, we might get hurt. No one ever got hurt in a huddle!”

Your church and mine are in big trouble if they become a “holy huddle” a band of saints gathered Sunday after Sunday, singing, praising, enjoying each other—but never setting out on the line to apply what they learn. The church is supposed to be Christ’s body—his hands, his feet, his voice—by which he carries out his plans in the world. God intends that “through the church, the manifold wisdom of God should be made known” (Eph 3:10).

The church is to be God’s light in a dark, corrupt society. The Christian life was never meant to be lived only in church for a couple of hours on Sunday. It’s meant to be lived in the public arena—on the firing line at school, the office, and in the neighborhood, seven days a week. Of course, we need worship and training and fellowship with other Christians—a football team needs the huddle. But it’s what happens after the huddle that the game is all about.

Here’s scene #3: the team breaks out of the huddle. But instead of lining up against the opposing squad, they break into groups of two or three, arguing with each other. Soon they start shoving, and two of them actually get into a fight.

“What’s wrong now?” we ask as one of them walks off the field in disgust.

“That bunch of malcontents can’t agree on anything,” he says. “Those two over there are arguing over the color of the uniforms. A couple of others are quarreling over the right way to kneel in the huddle. Those two guys are arguing because one believes in what he calls ‘personal’ football, and the other believes in ‘social’ football. They can’t agree whether the individual or the team is more important. Some of the white players say the blacks should go play on their own field, and some of the black guys don’t like the band music. A couple are fighting over whether women should be allowed to play. And I’m quitting because I can pass a lot better than that other guy, and they won’t let me be the quarterback.”

The Game Plan says that Christ “is our peace...His purpose was to create in himself one new man out of the two [Jew and Gentile], thus making peace...to reconcile both of them to God through the cross, by which he put to death their hostility” (Eph 2:14-16). Christians talk a lot about the peace of Christ. Can the world see that peace in our church relationships?

Within the Body of Christ there is plenty of room for diversity of gifts, but underlying that diversity is unity. “Be completely humble and gentle,” writes Paul, “Be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit...one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all...” (Eph 4:2-6). Isn’t it time to show our oneness in truth and love to a watching world?

So the first half ends. The team drags off to the locker room defeated, demoralized, beaten. But when the second half begins, we see a different team. Suddenly they’re playing together with a new spirit. They huddle, slap each other on the back, and take the line. They’re off the ball with split-second timing, there is no hesitation, they know where they’re going. Each player carries out his assignment, and soon they score a touchdown, then another, and another. When the game ends, they’ve won!

Afterwards in the locker room the players are exhausted, cut and bruised, but happy.

“What happened at halftime to change this team?” we ask, the coach.

“We were sitting here beaten,” he says, “and suddenly a kind of presence seemed to come over us. I started talking to the players, pointing out my mistakes, and theirs, and they started talking. Everyone was honest. Nobody blamed the others. We took a good look at ourselves. Then someone recalled that the Great Coach, the one who invented the game, also wrote the Master Game Plan. Wouldn’t it make sense to see what he said?

“We remembered how he literally gave himself to get the game started and to teach that first team everything he knew. So we got out the original Game Plan and read about basics such as each player knowing his place and dedicating himself to it, about pulling together, being willing to sacrifice, knowing the aim of the game, and using the proper equipment he designed.

“Well, we were quiet. It felt as if the Great Coach was with us, as if somehow his Spirit got inside us. Suddenly, we were up! Motivated! Ready to go! We can’t take the credit. It goes to Him!”

For God so loved the world, not just a few,

The wise and great, the noble and the true,

Or those of favored class or rank or hue.

God loved the world. Do you?

How oft have you sought some reward for a task you said was "for the Lord?" How oft have you felt a stinging slight and felt that you were not treated right? How oft have you said "I quit, I am through. Nobody says 'thanks'for the things I do."

How oft have you felt the precious thrill that comes from just being in His will? How oft did you count earth's glory dim compared to the joy of serving Him? What is it your heart has longed for? Does praise of men or His smile mean more?

Lord, let me live from day to day

In such a self-forgetful way,

That, even when I kneel to pray,

My prayer shall be for others.

Help me, in all the work I do,

Ever to be sincere and true,

And know that all I’d do for Thee,

Must needs be done for Others.

Let “self” be crucified and slain,

And buried deep, nor rise again;

And may all efforts be in vain,

Unless they be for Others.

And when my work on earth is done,

And my new work in heaven begun

May I forget the crown I’ve won,

While thinking still of Others.

Yes, Others, Lord, yes, Others.

Let this motto be;

Help me to live for Others,

That I may live with Thee.

There was a boy who never knew the love a father gives,

raised by his mom in anger for the man who left his kids.

The moment came in growing up, when gates were opened wide;

and the boy, whose heart was wounded, walked into the other side.

His appetite for nurture, to be given by a man,

had been left an empty vacuum as he roamed about the land.

He tried to stroke himself in closets, hidden from the light.

But it never satisfied him, so he wandered into night.

Looking for the man who would make him feel complete,

he gave himself to do such things that some would never speak.

It always started out with hope that love would finally heal,

but each encounter broke him more and left him feeling ill.

Dying for affection which he wrongly sought in man,

he turned for help to others thinking they would understand.

Instead they told him Sodom burned for such things he had done.

“How could you hurt your family so? You’re such a sorry son!”

Angered by the social pride that turns from darker things,

the lad now swore to desecrate the palaces of kings.

He bound himself in common cause with others such as he —

who had suffered long the anguish of the public mockery.

Parades were formed, and marches made, to show their new defiance.

Hand in hand, in open view, they stood in bold alliance

Supposing this would win the day and give them what they needed,

they entered into loud debate and publicly they pleaded.

“Equal right! We are deprived! Treat us true and fair!

Your moral rules are meaningless—for them we do not care!”

The rhetoric, inflamed by fear, polarized their cause;

civil strife erupted through the breaking of God’s Laws.

What they had hoped would give them peace instead provoked a war;

and a nation, known for tolerance, these things do now abhor.

And a boy who never knew the love and kindness of a father

died a victim of disease—alone—with no one who would bother.

The answer to this problem lies within the heart of those

who are filled with Christ’s compassion for the travelers on the road.

We can heal their broken bodies and restore their fallen hearts,

if only we’ll stop from judging them for how they fell apart.

The little boy who never knew, and yet became a man,

can feel the love of Christ in you, if you will touch his hand.

Help him to recover from the darkness of his fall —

for the love of God gives freedom unto any who will call.

- by James Ryle

When Hagar found the bottle spent,

And wept o’er Ishmael,

A message from the Lord was sent

To guide her to a well.

Should not Elijah’s cake and cruse

Convince us at this day,

A gracious God will not refuse

Provisions by the way?

His saints and servants shall be fed,

The promise is secure;

“Bread shall be given them,” as He said,

“Their water shall be sure.”

Repasts far richer they shall prove,

Than all earth’s dainties are;

‘Tis sweet to taste a Saviour’s love,

Though in the meanest fare.

To Jesus then your trouble bring,

Nor murmur at your lot;

While you are poor and He is King,

You shall not be forgot.

For want of a nail the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe the horse was lost; and for want of a horse the rider was lost, being overtaken and slain by the enemy; and for want of care about a horseshoe nail. - B. Franklin

Everything continues in a state of rest unless it is compelled to change by forces impressed upon it.

Mr. Spurgeon once made a parable. He said,

There was once a tyrant who summoned one of his subjects into his presence, and ordered him to make a chain. The poor blacksmith—that was his occupation—had to go to work and forge the chain. When it was done, he brought it into the presence of the tyrant, and was ordered to take it away and make it twice the length. He brought it again to the tyrant, and again he was ordered to double it. Back he came when he had obeyed the order, and the tyrant looked at it, and then commanded the servants to bind the man hand and foot with the chain he had made and cast him into prison.

“That is what the devil does with men,” Mr. Spurgeon said. “He makes them forge their own chain, and then binds them hand and foot with it, and casts them into outer darkness.” My friends, that is just what drunkards, gamblers, blasphemers—that is just what every sinner is doing. But thank God, we can tell them of a deliverer. The Son of God has power to break every one of their fetters if they will only come to Him.

Forget each kindness that you do as soon as you have done it.

Forget the praise that falls to you the moment you have won it.

Forget the slander that you hear before you can repeat it.

Forget each slight, each spite, each sneer, whenever you may meet.

Remember every promise made and keep it to the letter.

Remember those who lend you aid and be a grateful debtor.

Remember all the happiness that comes your way in living.

Forget each worry and distress; be hopeful and forgiving.

Remember good, remember truth,

Remember heaven is above you.

And you will find, through age and youth, that many will love you.

An older couple had trouble remembering common, day-to-day things. They both decided that they would write down requests the other had, and so try to avoid forgetting. One evening the wife asked if the husband would like anything. He replied, “Yes. I’d like a large ice-cream sundae with chocolate ice cream, whipped cream and a cherry on top.” The wife started off for the kitchen and the husband shouted after her, “Aren’t you going to write it down?” “Don’t be silly,” she hollered back, “I’m going to fix it right now. I won’t forget.”

She was gone for quite some time. When she finally returned, she set down in front of him a large plate of hashbrowns, eggs, bacon, and a glass of orange juice. He took a look and said “I knew you should have written it down! You forgot the toast!”

It is a most lamentable thing to see how most people spend their time and their energy for trifles, while God is cast aside. He who is all seems to them as nothing, and that which is nothing seems to them as good as all. It is lamentable indeed, knowing that God has set mankind in such a race where heaven or hell is their certain end, that they should sit down and loiter, or run after the childish toys of the world, forgetting the prize they should run for. Were it but possible for one of us to see this business as the all-seeing God does, and see what most men and women in the world are interested in and what they are doing every day, it would be the saddest sight imaginable. Oh, how we should marvel at their madness and lament their self-delusion! If God had never told them what they were sent into the world to do, or what was before them in another world, then there would have been some excuse. But it is His sealed word, and they profess to believe it.

The year slipped by and time was spent,

And all the good things that I meant

To do were left undone because...

I had no time to stop and pause;

But rushed about, went here and there,

Did this and that, was everywhere.

I had no time to meditate

On things worthwhile. No time to wait

Upon the Lord and hear Him say,

"Well done, My child, you have shown the way."

And so I wonder, after all,

When life is o'er and I am called

To meet my Savior in the sky,

Where saints live on and never die,

If I can find one soul I have won

To Christ by some small deed I have done.

Or will I hang my head and whine,

"Forgive me, God, I had no time"?

Today upon a bus, I saw a lovely maid with golden hair;

I envied her—she seemed so gay, and how, I wished I were so fair;

When suddenly she rose to leave, I saw her hobble down the aisle;

She had one foot and wore a crutch, but as she passed, a smile.

Oh God, forgive me when I whine, I have two feet—the world is mine.

And when I stopped to buy some sweets, the lad who served me had such charm;

He seemed to radiate good cheer, his manner was so kind and warm;

I said, “It’s nice to deal with you, such courtesy I seldom find”;

He turned and said, “Oh, thank you sir.” And then I saw that he was blind.

Oh, God, forgive me when I whine, I have two eyes, the world is mine.

Then, when walking down the street, I saw a child with eyes of blue;

He stood and watched the others play, it seemed he knew not what to do;

I stopped a moment, then I said, “Why don’t you join the others, dear?”

He looked ahead without a word, and then I knew he could not hear.

Oh God, forgive me when I whine, I have two ears, the world is mine.

With feet to take me where I’d go; with eyes to see the sunsets glow,

With ears to hear what I would know. I am blessed indeed.

The world is mine; oh, God, forgive me when I whine.

Testimony of a former Soviet prisoner: One time I was put in prison in Siberia. I was taken to a cell in the middle of the night. There were about 20 prisoners already there. None of them were sleeping, even though it was after midnight. They were all upset about something.

When the door was locked behind me, immediately they surrounded me and their first question was, "How many men did you kill?"

I said, "Well, I didn't kill anyone. I am a Christian."

They said, "You are lying. In this cell there are only murderers. Everyone here has killed at least three men. Some of us have killed four or five. So prove you are a Christian. Let us see your Bible."

You can't have a Bible in a Soviet prison. It would be confiscated. But hidden away in my things I had a miniature Gospel of Mark that I used to read secretly. I showed it to the prisoners and immediately they said, "Let us read it." So I did.

The next morning I awoke late, and I found that none of the other prisoners had been sleeping. They were all sitting in a circle, and one was reading the Gospel of Mark aloud. They had gotten to the last chapter. They were having a kind of Bible study-trying to discuss what it all meant. Those men had never heard the gospel before, had never read a portion of God's Word. But when I awoke, their first questions showed me that they understood what the gospel meant.

Their first question was this, "Can God forgive us?" That meant that they understood the meaning of the gospel, what salvation is. I explained that yes, God can forgive you. Jesus Christ forgave the thief on the cross next to Him.

I spent a week in that cell, and we talked a lot about God, but then I was to be transported to another prison. They wanted me to give them my Gospel of Mark. I remember one of them said, "Your God will send you many more Bibles, many more New Testaments. We'll never have another portion of God's Word in this prison." That Gospel was very precious to me, but I gave it to those men. And it is still there with them.

“The man I ate dinner with tonight killed my brother.” The words, spoken by a stylish woman at a PF banquet in Seattle, amazed me. She told how John H. had murdered her brother during a robbery, served 18 years at Walla Walla, then settled into life on a dairy farm, where she had met him in 1983, 20 years after his crime. Compelled by Christ’s command to forgive, Ruth Youngsman had gone to her enemy and pronounced forgiveness. Then she had taken him to her father’s deathbed, prompting reconciliation.

Some wouldn’t call this a success story: John didn’t dedicate his life to Christ. But at that PF banquet last fall, his voice cracked as he said, “Christians are the only people I know that you can kill their son, and they’ll make you a part of their family. I don’t know the Man Upstairs, but He sure is hounding me.”

John’s story is unfinished; he hasn’t yet accepted Christ. But just as Christ died for us regardless of our actions or acceptance, so Ruth forgave him without qualification. Even more so, she became his friend.

Forgiveness is hard. Especially in a marriage tense with past troubles, tormented by fears of rejection and humiliation, and torn by suspicion and distrust.

Forgiveness hurts. Especially when it must be extended to a husband or wife who doesn’t deserve it, who hasn’t earned it, who may misuse it. It hurts to forgive.

Forgiveness costs. Especially in marriage when it means accepting instead of demanding repayment for the wrong done; where it means releasing the other instead of exacting revenge; where it means reaching out in love instead of relinquishing resentments.

It costs to forgive...Stated psychologically, forgiveness takes place when the person who was offended and justly angered by the offender bears his own anger, and lets the other go free. Anger cannot be ignored, denied, or forgotten without doing treachery in hidden ways. It must be dealt with responsibly, honestly, in a decisive act of the will. Either the injured and justifiably angry person vents his feelings on the other in retaliation—(That is an attempt at achieving justice as accuser, judge, and hangman all in one)—or the injured person may choose to accept his angry feelings, bear the burden of them personally, find release through confession and prayer and set the other person free. This is forgiveness.

When we are wronged in some way, our natural inclination is to fight back, to get even. Needless to say, this reaction, though thoroughly human, is almost always in error. “Forgiveness,” said Epictetus, “is better than revenge, for forgiveness is the sign of a gentle nature, but revenge is the sign of a savage nature.”

A dramatic example is the experience of a Hungarian refugee—to protect his privacy we’ll call him Joseph Kudar. Kudar was a successful young lawyer in Hungary before the uprisings in that country in 1956. A strong believer in freedom for his country, he fought Soviet tanks in the streets of Budapest with his friends. When the uprising failed, he was forced to flee the country.

When Kudar arrived in the U.S. he had no money, no job, no friends. He was, however, well educated; he spoke and wrote several languages, including English. For several months he tried to get a job in a law office, but because of his lack of familiarity with American law, he received only polite refusals.

Finally, it occurred to him that with his knowledge of language he might be able to get a job with an import-export company. He selected one such company and wrote a letter to the owner.

Two weeks later he received an answer, but was hardly prepared for the vindictiveness of the man’s reply. Among other things, it said that even if they did need someone, they wouldn’t hire him because he couldn’t even write good English.

Crushed, Kudar’s hurt quickly turned to anger. What right did this rude, arrogant man have to tell him he couldn’t write the language! The man was obviously crude and uneducated—his letter was chock-full of grammatical errors!

Kudar sat down and, in the white heat of anger, wrote a scathing reply, calculated to rip the man to shreds. When he’d finished, however, as he was reading it over, his anger began to drain away. Then he remembered the biblical admonition, “A soft answer turneth away wrath.”

No, he wouldn’t mail the letter. Maybe the man was right. English was not his native tongue. Maybe he did need further study in it. Possibly this man had done him a favor by making him realize he did need to work harder on perfecting his English.

Kudar tore up the letter and wrote another. This time he apologized for the previous letter, explained his situation, and thanked the man for pointing out his need for further study.

Two days later he received a phone call inviting him to New York for an interview. A week later he went to work for them as a correspondent. Later, Joseph Kudar became vice president and executive officer of the company, destined to succeed the man he had hated and sought revenge against for a fleeting moment—and then resisted.

I readily admit that forgiveness is unfair. Hinduism, with its doctrine of karma, provides a far more satisfying sense of fairness. Hindu scholars have calculated with mathematical precision how long it may take for one person’s justice to work itself out: for punishment to balance out all my wrongs in this life and future lives, 6,800,000 incarnations should suffice.

When Mr. Wesley was on a voyage with General Oglethorpe to Georgia, the General threatened revenge upon an offending servant, saying, "I never forgive." "Then I hope, sir," said Mr. Wesley, "that you never sin." The General saw the force of this remark and modified his action toward the servant.

Corrie ten Boom likenened forgiveness to letting go of a bell rope. If you have ever seen a country church with a bell in the steeple, you will remember that to get the bell ringing you have to tug awhile. Once it has begun to ring, you merely maintain the momentum. As long as you keep pulling, the bell keeps ringing. Miss ten Boom said forgiveness is letting go of the rope. It is just that simple. But when you do so, the bell keeps ringing. Momentum is still at work. However, if you keep your hands off the rope, the bell will begin to slow and eventually stop.

It is like that with forgiveness. When you decided to forgive, the old feelings of unforgiveness may continue to assert themselves. After all, they have lots of momentum. But if you affirm your decision to forgive, that unforgiving spirit will begin to slow and will eventually be still. Forgiveness is not something you feel, it is something you do. It is letting go of the rope of retribution.

When Spurgeon was a teenager, he served as an assistant teacher in a school in Newmarket, Cambridgeshire, kept by John Swindell. The cook in the house was Mary King, a devout Christian with strong Calvinist beliefs. When Spurgeon was experiencing deep conviction he talked with her, and she explained what she knew of the Word. Spurgeon wrote, “From her I got all the theology I ever needed.” Mary King is one of the forgotten heroes of church history who influenced such a mighty man of God.

It’s very human to begin looking for something and then forget what you’re looking for.

Tennessee Williams tells a story of someone who forgot—the story of Jacob Brodzky, a shy Russian Jew whose father owned a bookstore. The older Brodzky wanted his son to go to college. The boy, on the other hand, desired nothing but to marry Lila, his childhood sweetheart—a French girl as effusive, vital, and ambitious as he was contemplative and retiring. A couple of months after young Brodzky went to college, his father fell ill and died. The son returned home, buried his father, and married his love. Then the couple moved into the apartment above the bookstore, and Brodzky took over its management.

The life of books fit him perfectly, but it cramped her. She wanted more adventure—and she found it, she thought, when she met an agent who praised her beautiful singing voice and enticed her to tour Europe with a vaudeville company. Brodzky was devastated. At their parting, he reached into his pocket and handed her the key to the front door of the bookstore.

“You had better keep this,” he told her, “because you will want it some day. Your love is not so much less than mine that you can get away from it. You will come back sometime, and I will be waiting.” She kissed him and left.

To escape the pain he felt, Brodzky withdrew deep into his bookstore and took to reading as someone else might have taken to drink. He spoke little, did little, and could most times be found at the large desk near the rear of the shop, immersed in his books while he waited for his love to return.

Nearly 15 years after they parted, at Christmastime, she did return. But when Brodzky rose from the reading desk that had been his place of escape for all that time, he did not take the love of his life for more than an ordinary customer. “Do you want a book?” he asked.

That he didn’t recognize her startled her. But she gained possession of herself and replied, “I want a book, but I’ve forgotten the name of it.” Then she told him a story of childhood sweethearts. A story of a newly married couple who lived in an apartment above a bookstore. A story of a young, ambitious wife who left to seek a career, who enjoyed great success but could never relinquish the key her husband gave her when they parted. She told him the story she thought would bring him to himself. But his face showed no recognition. Gradually she realized that he had lost touch with his heart’s desire, that he no longer knew the purpose of his waiting and grieving, that now all he remembered was the waiting and grieving itself.

“You remember it; you must remember it—the story of Lila and Jacob?” After a long, bewildered pause, he said, “There is something familiar about the story, I think I have read it somewhere. It comes to me that it is something by Tolstoi.”

Dropping the key, she fled the shop. And Brodzky returned to his desk, to his reading, unaware that the love he waited for had come and gone.

Tennessee Williams’s 1931 story “Something by Tolstoi” reminds me how easy it is to miss love when it comes. Either something so distracts us or we have so completely lost who we are and what we care about that we cannot recognize our heart’s desire.

After stopping for gas in Montgomery, Alabama, Sam drove more than 5 hours before noticing he had left someone behind—his wife. So at the next town he asked the police to help get him in touch with her. Then Sam called his wife to tell her he was on his way back. He admitted with great embarrassment that he just hadn’t noticed her absence.

How Sam could forget his wife is beyond me. But wait! We’re not much different in our relationship to God. We actually fail to remember the One who created us and redeemed us. How is this possible? I don’t know. But we do forget. And it’s a constant struggle not to.

Man’s short attention span is no surprise to God. Speaking to Israel, He offered solutions in Deuteronomy 6. First, know the real issues of life and keep priorities straight (vv. 4,5). Second, take the Scriptures seriously. Become so familiar with them that they are a part of what you think and feel and do (v. 6). Third, talk about God to your children, and look for opportunities to tell them of His love (v. 7). Fourth, write reminders to yourself and put them where they can be easily seen (vv. 8,9). Fifth, realize that your need for God is not limited to times of obvious stress or danger. Enjoy with gratitude whatever health and happiness you have (vv. 10,11).

Can we put God out of our mind? I’m afraid so. That’s why we must acknowledge and obey Him continually. It’s the only way of keeping Him in mind. -M.R.D.II

King of my life I crown Thee now—

Thine shall the glory be;

Lest I forget Thy thorn-crowned brow,

Lead me to Calvary.

- Hussey

Backsliding begins when knee-bending stops.

I really cannot give you the formula for success. But I can give you the formula for failure. It’s this: Try to please everyone.

1. Listen to the other person’s story.

2. Listen to the other person’s full story.

3. Listen to the other person’s full story first.

“I am in earnest about forsaking ‘the world’ and following Christ. But I am puzzled about worldly things. What is it I must forsake?” a young man asks.

“Colored clothes, for one thing. Get rid of everything in your wardrobe that is not white. Stop sleeping on a soft pillow. Sell your musical instruments and don’t eat any more white bread. You cannot, if you are sincere about obeying Christ, take warm baths or shave your beard. To shave is to lie against Him who created us, to attempt to improve on His Work.”

Elizabeth Elliot comments on the above dialogue, “Does this answer sound absurd? It is the answer given in the most celebrated Christian schools of the second century! Is it possible that the rules that have been adopted by many twentieth-century; Christians will sound as absurd to earnest followers of Christ a few years hence?”

The world system is committed to at least four major objectives, which I can summarize in four words: fortune, fame, power, pleasure. First and foremost: Fortune, money. The world system is driven by money; it feeds on materialism. Second: Fame. That is another word for popularity. Fame is the longing to be known, to be somebody in someone else’s eyes. Third: Power. This is having influence, maintaining control over individuals or groups or companies or whatever. It is the desire to manipulate and maneuver others to do something for one’s own benefit. Fourth: Pleasure. At its basic level, pleasure has to do with fulfilling one’s sensual desires. It’s the same mindset that’s behind the slogan: “If it feels good, do it.”

From boyhood, one of my favorite stories has been the forty martyrs of Sabaste. These forty soldiers, all Christians, were members of the famed Twelfth Legion of Rome’s imperial army.

One day their captain told them Emperor Licinius had sent out an edict that all soldiers were to offer sacrifice to the pagan gods. These Christians replied, “You can have our armor and even our bodies, but our hearts’ allegiance belongs to Jesus Christ.”

It was midwinter of A.D. 320, and the captain had them marched onto a nearby frozen lake. He stripped them of their clothes and said they would either die or renounce Christ.

Throughout the night these men huddled together singing their song, “Forty martyrs for Christ.” One by one the temperature took its toll and they fell to the ice.

At last there was only one man left. He lost courage and stumbled to the shore, where he renounced Christ. The officer of the guards had been watching all this. Unknown to the others, he had secretly come to believe in Christ. When he saw this last man break rank, he walked out onto the ice, threw off his clothes, and confessed that he also was a Christian.

When the sun rose the next morning, there were forty bodies of soldiers who had fought to the death for Christ.

St. Basil was a great man of God, one of the greatest of the Church Fathers. One of his noble orations is dedicated to the memory of forty martyrs of Sebaste who were ordered by the officers of Licinius, in the year a.d. 320, to offer sacrifices to heathen idols. These were soldiers who had proven to be excellent in every respect. But Licinius the emperor issued a decree that they must renounce Christ or else their lives would be in danger. Those who refused to give up Christ were submitted to indescribable brutalities and tortures.

"The torturers were called forth. The first was ready and the sword was sharpened.... Then some of the persecuted Christians fled, others succumbed, others wavered, and some before even being submitted to the tortures, were afraid because of their threatenings. Some, when facing the tortures, became faint. Others entered the battle, but were not able to persevere to the end in suffering the pains, and in the middle of the martyrdom they renounced Christ.

"However, the invincible and gallant soldiers of Christ proceeded visibly to the middle, at the time when the judge was showing the decree of the king and was asking them to submit to it. Without being afraid of anything which they saw, nor losing their heads as a result of the threatenings, they confessed that they were Christians.

"These Christians soldiers were offered money and honors in order to induce them to join the ranks of the heathen. To earthly honors they would not yield. Then came threats of indescribable tortures. What an answer these Christian soldiers gave: 'Do you have blessings of equal value to those you endeavor to deprive us of, to give us? We hate your gift because it will mean our loss. We do not accept honor which is the mother of dishonesty. You offer us money which remains here, glory which fades away.... We have despised the whole world. Those things which we see in the world do not have for us the value of the heavenly things which we hope and long for.... We are afraid of only one punishment, the punishment of hell. We are here ready to be tortured ... for you to twist our bodies and to burn them.'

"The judge was infuriated by the courage of these brave Christians, and so he devised a slow and most painful way of putting them to death. It was very cold. He waited for the night when the wind was violent and the air freezing. He ordered these soldiers to be thrown naked on a frozen lake in the center of the town to die from freezing. There is no more atrocious and painful death than that. These Christian soldiers did not have to be forced to take off their clothes. They took them off themselves and marched on to the frozen lake. As each went, he said, 'We are not merely putting off our clothes, but we are putting off "the old man, which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts" ' (Eph_4:22). All together they shouted, 'The winter is bitter, but heaven is sweet; the freezing painful, but sweet the rest. Let us persevere a little longer and we shall be warmed in the bosom of the Patriarch [meaning Christ]. Let us exchange all of eternity for the pains of one night. Let the leg be burned so that it may ever dance with the angels.... How many soldiers have died in battle remaining faithful to a mortal king, and we, for the sake of remaining faithful to the true king, shall we not sacrifice this life?... We are going to die anyway; let us die so that we may live.' Their prayer was unanimous and ascended with one voice, 'Forty have we entered this ordeal, may all forty of us receive the crown of martyrdom. Oh, Despot, grant that not one of our number may yield.... You honored this number because you fasted forty days.'

"In spite of this earnest prayer, one of their number did not persevere and gave in to the offers of the heathen persecutors. Great sorrow came upon the others because only thirty-nine remained in the arena of death. Their plea became even more vigorous to their Heavenly Father. Forty entered the ordeal and forty wanted to see the face of the Lord. The deserter came to the warm place prepared by the emperor's executioners. But going from the extreme cold to the warm place, and plunging himself into warm water, he died instantly. The guard, a heathen who was watching all the developments and saw angels ministering to these saints of God, on hearing their prayers, decided to answer them. He took off his clothes and declared with a loud voice, 'I am a Christian, too,' and jumped naked on the frozen lake joining the thirty-nine to complete their number to forty. Thus their prayer was answered, forty entered the ordeal of martyrdom and forty saw the face of Jesus Christ. Now, whose memory was cursed and whose was blessed? We call the saints who persevered unto death blessed, indeed."

Detours, when we get off the main road, can be frustrating and time consuming. Yet in the spiritual life, God seems to allow us to be detoured. One of the longest detours of all time happened to the children of Israel in the wilderness. What should have taken them eleven days to enter the Promised Land turned into a forty-year detour in the desert. That detour was due to their deplorable lack of faith in God’s conquering power. On the other hand, there were those who may have thought they were being detoured by God, but who later found they were on God’s perfect road of blessing all along. Consider: 1) Moses was detoured into submission. Those forty years in the wilderness tending sheep were not a waste, but actually a training ground for tending Israel later on. The desert experience took all the trust in the arm of flesh out of Moses (Exodus 3,4). 2) Paul was detoured into learning. “I went into Arabia...then after three years I went up to Jerusalem” (Galatians 1:17,18). Those years were good for Paul, so that he might learn of Christ and be trained for service. 3) Philip was detoured from many, to one. He went from winning multitudes, to winning one man, the Ethiopian eunuch; from a great revival to a singular witnessing experience. This story shows the Lord’s estimation of the value of one soul. 4) Enoch and Elijah were detoured into heaven (Genesis 5:24, II Kings 2:11). Is today the day we will experience the same?

A person without goals in his life is like a ship without maps and a compass. He will drift aimlessly from day to day hoping to arrive at the nebulus port of "somewhere." His voyage though life will be left to chance. Without goals life is uninteresting and without challenge. Goals are decisions to action. Goals are maps which give the routes to distant ports in life. Goals help a person know where he is going and how he is going to get there. A goal is more than a dream; it is a dream being acted upon. It is more than an "Oh, I wish I could." A goal is a clear statement of "This is what I am going to do." Goals are not fanciful doubts; they are declarations of faith.

14 Reasons for Setting Goals

Do you have a list of goals that you are working on at this moment? If you do, congratulations, because it places you in a small group of achievers. If you do not have goals for your life, let me share some basic reasons why you need to set goals.

Goals will give your life purpose. They help you to specifically know where you are going. They provide a clear target for your life.

Goals will help you develop a plan of action for reaching your goals.

Goals are exciting because they keep you active. Work is a sure way to success and happiness.

Goals are biblical. Paul said, "I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus" (Phi 3:14).

Goals produce results. They are not just exercises in futilities.

Goals help keep you young and interested in life. There is hope and expectation in the future.

When you work on your goals you help to encourage others to do the same.

Good goals help you know where you are at each month. You have planned your journey in life. You have a map to check each action by.

When you set meaningful goals you are following the pattern of all great leaders who have gone before. They work.

Goals are essential if you are going to accomplish things in life. Whether on the job, in the home, or in the church, goals are vital to success.

Goals get us involved in the present. The steps to accomplishment must be taken today.

Goals provide a procedure for doing things decently and in order. It eliminates the "hit-and-miss" approach to life.

Goals provide a framework for evaluating our progress.

Nothing will happen until you set some goals for your life. This is the major advantage of failure: you do not have to do anything to achieve it.

When I think about the kind of offensive strategy God expects from His church, I think about the San Francisco Forty-niners. They were the team of the eighties. Their greatness was due to their ability to make an offensive impact. They controlled the ball, thereby controlling the game. Their offense was almost always on the field, so other teams rarely had an opportunity to score. Even if the other teams did score, the Forty-niners almost always came back and scored again.

God doesn't expect Satan to "control the ball" in his battle against the church. God expects the church to be on the offensive, executing His game plan. Satan's defense is to be kept on the field while God's offense scores the touchdowns. When Satan's team does have the ball, the church ought to be causing fumbles so the right offense gets back on the field. The church isn't in the game just to keep Satan from scoring. God has called His people to be forward-moving Christians.

A young man who presented himself as a candidate for baptism was asked by one of the deacons when he had found Christ as his Savior. "I didn't find Him; He found me," was the reply. That's absolutely correct. God is constantly seeking the wandering sinner, confronting him with the cross of Christ at every turn.

On May 2, 1962, a dramatic advertisement appeared in the San Francisco examiner: “I don’t want my husband to die in the gas chamber for a crime he did not commit. I will therefore offer my services for 10 years as a cook, maid, or housekeeper to any leading attorney who will defend him and bring about his vindication.” One of San Francisco’s greatest attorneys, Vincent Hallinan, read or heard about the ad and contacted Gladys Kidd, who had placed it. Her husband, Robert Lee Kidd, was about to be tried for the slaying of an elderly antique dealer. Kidd’s fingerprints had been found on a bloodstained ornate sword in the victim’s shop.

During the trial, Hallinan proved that the antique dealer had not been killed by the sword, and that Kidd’s fingerprints and blood on the sword got there because Kidd had once toyed with it while playfully dueling with a friend when they were both out shopping. The jury, after 11 hours, found Kidd to be not guilty.

Attorney Hallinan refused Gladys Kidd’s offer of 10 years’ servitude.

He was born in Columbus, Ohio, 1890, the third of eight children. At eleven he quit school to help with the family expenses, and got his first full-time job at $3.50 per week. At fifteen he got interested in automobiles and went to work in a garage at $4.50 a week. He knew he would never get anywhere without more schooling, so he subscribed to a correspondence home study course on automobiles. Night after night, following long days at the garage, he worked at the kitchen table by the light of the kerosene lamp. His next step was already planned in his mind—a job with Frayer-Miller Automobile Company of Columbus.

One day when he felt ready, he walked into the plant. Lee Frayer was bent over the hood of a car. The boy waited. Finally, Frayer noticed him. “Well,” he said, “what do you want?” “I just thought I’d tell you I’m coming to work here tomorrow morning,” the boy replied. “Oh! Who hired you?” “Nobody yet, but I’ll be on the job in the morning. If I’m not worth anything, you can fire me.”

Early the next morning the young man returned to the garage. Frayer was not yet there. Noticing that the floor was thick with metal shavings and accumulated dirt and grease, the boy got a broom and shovel and set to work cleaning the place. The rest of the boy’s future was predictable. He went on to a national reputation as a racing car driver and automotive expert. In World War I he was America’s leading flying ace. Later he founded Eastern Airlines. His name—Eddie Rickenbacker.

Our success in this venture means nothing less than the opening of the country for the gospel; our failure, at most, nothing more than the death of two or three deluded fanatics. Still, even death is not failure. His purposes are accomplished. He uses deaths as well as lives in the furtherance of His cause.

Walter Gowans, 1883, a founder of SIM. On Dec. 4, 1893, Walter Gowans and Rowland Bingham of Toronto, Canada, and Thomas Kent of Buffalo, N. Y., landed at Lagos, Nigeria. Their aim was to establish a witness among the 60 million people of what was then commonly known as the Soudan, the area south of the Sahara between the Niger River and the Nile. Gowans and Kent died in the first few months. Bingham returned to Canada, formed a council, and went back to Africa in 1900. That attempt, too, was unsuccessful. In 1901 Bingham sent out a party that succeeded in establishing the Mission’s first base, at Patigi, 500 miles up the Niger River. When these first SIM pioneers landed in Nigeria, Gowans was 25 years old, Bingham was two weeks away from his 21st birthday, Kent was 23.

“It is the impassioned pleading of a quiet little Scottish lady that linked my life with the Soudan,” wrote Rowland Bingham (a founder of SIM). “In the quietness of her parlor she told how God had called a daughter to China, and her eldest boy (Walter Gowans) to the Soudan.

“She spread out before me the vast extent of those thousands of miles and filled in the teeming masses of people. Ere I closed the interview she had place upon me the burden of the Soudan.”

A year and a half later Bingham returned to Canada, alone. Walter and Thomas Kent lay buried in Nigeria’s interior.

“I visited Mrs. Gowans to take her the few personal belongings of her son,” he recalled. “She met me with extended hand. We stood there in silence. “Then she said these words: ‘Well, Mr. Bingham, I would rather have had Walter go out to the Soudan and die there, all alone, that have him home today, disobeying his Lord.’”

“It is the impassioned pleading of a quiet little Scottish lady that linked my life with the Sudan,” wrote Rowland Bingham (a founder of SIM). “In the quietness of her parlor she told how God had called a daughter to China, and her eldest boy (Walter Gowans) to the Sudan.

“She spread out before me the vast extent of those thousands of miles and filled in the teeming masses of people. Ere I closed the interview she had place upon me the burden of the Sudan.”

A year and a half later Bingham returned to Canada, alone. Walter and Thomas Kent lay buried in Nigeria’s interior. “I visited Mrs. Gowans to take her the few personal belongings of her son,” he recalled. “She met me with extended hand. We stood there in silence.

“Then she said these words: ‘Well, Mr. Bingham, I would rather have had Walter go out to the Sudan and die there, all alone, than have him home today, disobeying his Lord.’”

Our success in this venture means nothing less than the opening of the country for the gospel; our failure, at most, nothing more than the death of two or three deluded fanatics. Still, even death is not failure. His purposes are accomplished. He uses deaths as well as lives in the furtherance of His cause.

Walter Gowans, 1983, a founder of SIM. On Dec. 4, 1893, Walter Gowans and Rowland Bingham of Toronto, Canada, and Thomas Kent of Buffalo, N.Y., landed at Lagos, Nigeria. Their aim was to establish a witness among the 60 million people of what was then commonly known as the Sudan, the area south of the Sahara between the Niger River and the Nile. Gowans and Kent died in the first few months. Bingham returned to Canada, formed a council, and went back to Africa in 1900. That attempt, too, was unsuccessful. In 1901 Bingham sent out a party that succeeded in establishing the Mission’s first base, at Patigi, 500 miles up the Niger River. When these first SIM pioneers landed in Nigeria, Gowans was 25 years old, Bingham was two weeks away from his 21st birthday, Kent was 23.

There are four main bones in every organization.

The wish-bones: Wishing somebody would do something about the problem.

The jaw-bones: Doing all the talking but very little else.

The knuckle-bones: Those who knock everything.

The back-bones: Those who carry the brunt of the load and do most of the work.

There are four basic categories:

1. Those who think they are saved, but aren’t (Matthew 7:21-3)

2. Those we think are saved, but aren’t (1 John 2:18-19)

3. Those who are saved, but don’t act like it (Corinthians.)

4. Those who are saved, and they act like it.