Privilege in the Undiscovered Country

Last night at prayer meeting a good friend of the church joined us. He’s a PhD in Engineering who teaches at a university in Asia. He often returns to Canada between semesters.

He sat quietly in the circle for a few minutes, then remarked, “There are 10 people here, twelve with the two of us. Five percent of churches attend prayer meetings, that means your church is two hundred people.”

We laughed at the joke, because his comment was meant as a compliment. In truth, a quarter of folks regularly attends our prayer meetings, which is well above that average.

Before dislocating my shoulder patting myself on the back, my friend’s words got me thinking. Prayer is often minimized as an aspect of church life.

If we consider all that Christ accomplished on the cross, prayer is His greatest gift to humanity. At this point most Christians might object, saying that it’s eternal life or salvation, but consider what prayer represents.

Prayer is the reconciliation of a broken relationship. Adam enjoyed close fellowship with God. It was represented by their daily walks together through the garden. The subsequent broken fellowship with God was symbolized by the thick curtain in the Temple and the need to approach Him through the mediation of a priest.

Now that Christ is our High Priest, we have fellowship with God through prayer. More than anything else, it’s prayer that represents our reconciled relationship with God. In fact, prayer should be the most important part of our daily spiritual walk, because it’s the greatest privilege given to us through the redeeming work of Jesus Christ.

Prayer should also hold an essential place in the life of the body. We need to pray together. It is the very connection we have with the divine. Corporate prayer bonds the body together. Corporate prayer reminds us that we are not a collective of individuals who happen to share the same building, but we are the very body of Christ. We live connected to each other and entirely dependent on God.

That’s privilege in the Undiscovered Country.

Worship in the Undiscovered Country

In the Undiscovered Country we sing a lot of hymns. For a greater church culture overwhelmed with praise and worship music, that may seem old school. Perhaps even archaic. For a while I struggled to understand the specific appeal of hymns. That was until someone explained it to me.

For people who spend their entire lives outside church, hymns are fresh. They reflect the change Christ makes in their lives; a break from the culture of their old lives. I was surprised to learn that, for our Undiscovered Country, folks looked for something beyond their old, unfulfilling experiences. That includes the music of their past.

Hymns speak to a new reality, a life of faith in Christ. They encourage our folks and speak deeply of the things of God. Through hymns we learn and grow.

Our love of hymns doesn’t mean we reject praise and worship music. In fact, one of our favorite praise and worships songs is written by Bruce, our music leader. I enjoy it because it is born from our church family. It expresses glory to God for his mercy and greatness. It reflects the shared experience of our church family.

Worship is corporate. The power of worship comes from thanksgiving for who God is and his great works among his people. It’s just like the Psalms that speak of God’s mighty deeds through the people of Israel.

Worship should be specific. We ought to express worship based on our own unique experience. Each church has it’s own culture and history. Worship should reflect how God has led each group through the years, making thanksgiving it’s central focus.

In a culture of individualism, the Undiscovered Country focuses on the body. We exist for each other, and need each other. Worship should reflect God’s great work through his people.

That’s worship in the Undiscovered Country.

More Good Than Harm

When I was thirty years old, I sat in a doctor’s office and learned something that would change my life. I had rheumatoid arthritis.

“Congratulations,” said the rheumatologist, “You have an old woman disease.”

I thought my joint pains were the result of years of playing rugby. I soon learned that I suffered from this condition starting in my early twenties. My distorted and damaged joints we permanent and painful.

The following Sunday I shared the news with my church. Their response was a surprise: I suddenly became legitimate. For years I led an undiscovered country filled with broken bodies- cerebral palsy, downs syndrome, amputees, spina bifida, diabetes, cancer and many other conditions. A quarter of our church are confined to wheel chairs. Most of the others struggle with addiction recovery, physical and mental challenges.

On that Sunday morning I became another broken body.

As other healthy believers learned of my condition, they immediately started praying for my healing. I didn’t discourage this, but I wondered if that was the right thing to pray for. I’d love to be healed. My condition makes life a real challenge. Whatever I want, however, is a distant second to God’s plan.

What was personally devastating was in fact a unforeseen blessing. I was broken, just like everyone else in my church family. It opened up new opportunities and ministries. I was not just their spiritual leader, I was one of them.

This reminds me of Joseph in Genesis. There’s a moment in Joseph’s life when he confronts his brothers. He tells them, “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good in order to bring about this present result.” (NASB)

That’s how I view my rheumatoid arthritis. As painful as it is, God still uses it for his glory.

That’s life in the Undiscovered Country.

Something to Prove

When one of our church family moved in to a senior’s residence, we started visiting. The staff of the residence were less than pleased. The response we received from them was chilly at best. We eventually learned that they were actually looking for reasons to kick us out.

We persevered.

Instead of seeing them as problems, we prayed for them. We respected their demands. We encouraged folks. But we wouldn’t leave. We had a good reason to be there, so we visited every week faithfully.

Over the years, the attitude at the residence changed. The staff got used to us. Then they warmed to us. Eventually, they welcomed us. They even offered us new opportunities to minister.

In the course of these things, I reread the book of Daniel. What I read was earth shattering. Like us, Daniel lived in a society that didn’t know or love his God. But in the face of hostility and opposition, Daniel excelled. His courageous testimony was an example that continues to inform my life and ministry.

Two truths stuck out specifically:

1. Over his life in exile, Daniel continued to prove himself. As each regime changed, his faithfulness was challenged. That holds true for all disciples in the Undiscovered Country. Our testimony is as powerful as our last ministry opportunities. We do have something to prove to the world: that our God is the One True and Living God.

2. Daniel persevered in living out his testimony. Integrity never takes a holiday. Neither does faithfulness. In fact, Daniel never compromised his obedience to God to make his life easier. This often caused problems for Daniel, but it also created opportunities for God to reveal His glory.

The power of our testimony is not what we do, it’s in what God does through us.

That’s ministry in the Undiscovered Country.

Fellowship

It was a Wednesday evening early this past Spring. The snow was gone but the nights still came early. Our prayer time had just finished. Glancing over at security camera monitor, I noticed a car parked peculiarly in the alley behind the building.

As the folks continued fellowshipping, I went out to investigate. I approached the car from behind. The driver’s door was open and the driver was doing something secretly in the shadows. I assumed it was drugs.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

A man swore and told me to leave him alone.

I told him he was in our parking lot and he swore at me again. He slammed his door and started the car. The white reverse lights flashed and the tires of his car spun in the asphalt.

The car turned in my direction and I scrambled for cover. I reached the corner of the building, but discovered that it didn’t offer much protection. I braced for impact.

At that moment, a truck turned into the alley. It’s headlights shone brightly in the shadows. The car slammed on it’s brakes, shifted into drive and sped off.

It all happened so fast, it barely had time to register. I slowly realized how close I’d come to being run down.

I went back inside the church, my heart still pounding. No one inside witnessed my ordeal. It was a shock to them all when they heard my harrowing story.

After the adrenaline rush wore off, my thoughts began to form. I realized that in the few seconds of danger, I was alone. Despite the fact that my church family were so close, they were still far away.

I also realized that I wasn’t completely alone.

For the first time, I began to understand Christ’s promise to never leave nor forsake us. I wasn’t truly alone. Christ was present with me in the crisis. Did he send that truck into the alley at that precise moment to protect me from harm? Possibly. Regardless of how it could’ve turned out, I knew I wouldn’t have to face the trial on my own. I thanked God for the reality of His presence.

That’s genuine fellowship in the Undiscovered Country.

A Beautiful Mess

Over the years our church has hosted many Summer missions groups. One group was a youth choir from Louisiana. They brought everything they needed for a full production- sound board, speakers, amplifiers and microphones. It was overkill for a storefront church that was only three rows deep.

Their performance was excellent. Even though the choir was larger than their audience, they sung their hearts out. After one song, one of our people stood up to leave. That wasn’t unusual for our crowd. People flowed in and out constantly during normal services.

This time the man didn’t leave. He walked straight up to the choir and stood in front of one of the mics. The girls behind them looked horrified as this disheveled homeless man took over their performance.

He leaned into the mic and said, “And the show continues.” With that, he returned to his seat. Miss Olivia and I laughed so hard we nearly fell off our seats.

We weren’t laughing at the choir. They were good young people who were serving God. We appreciated their efforts.

We laughed because of the absurdity of the moment.

What do you do when the absurd becomes your normal? We don’t try to make sense of them. That would only make us crazy. Instead, we laugh. A lot.

People are a beautiful mess. They aren’t statistics or diagnoses. They’re in the continual process of becoming God’s great vision for their lives. An essential part of that journey is learning to laugh with each other. They need a church to love them where they are.

The Undiscovered Country is a beautiful mess.

Jesus Loves Me, Eh?

When I first discovered the Undiscovered Country, I got to know Pastor Joe. He had a genuine heart for people that no one else cared about; the forgotten and abandoned.

Don was one of the forgotten. No one knew his age, but he looked to be in his sixties. He was a short, gaunt man with three teeth, one of which stuck straight out. He had a severe learning disability, and the only words he would say were, “Jesus loves me, eh?”

Every Sunday Don would be one of the first to greet me at church. He would poke me in the chest, hold out his hand and say, “Jesus loves me, eh?”

I would shake his hand and reply, “Jesus loves you, Don.” It would always make him smile, flashing his three teeth.

One week Don didn’t show up for church. Then he missed Wednesday evening. Pastor Joe went searching for him. He discovered Don in jail.

It turned out that Don met a woman in the street. He smiled at her, poked her in the chest and said, “Jesus loves me, eh?” The woman had him arrested for sexual assault.

A confused and terrified Don spent the next several days in jail until Pastor Joe bailed him out. Don spent the rest of his life afraid of the police.

So many in the Undiscovered Country are vulnerable. They have slipped through the cracks of society. Many have special needs; physical and intellectual challenges. As their family, we’re responsible to care for them. Pastor Joe cared enough to look for one of his missing flock.

That’s what it means to be a Shepherd in the Undiscovered Country.

Alcoholics Anonymous and Feral Hogs

Many in our Undiscovered Country are recovering. Most are recovering alcoholics. Many are recovering drug addicts. All of us are recovering sinners.

One member of our spiritual family leads an Alcoholics Anonymous group. We’ll call him Ted. He and his wife have been recovering from their addictions to alcohol for over thirty years.

On several occasions I’ve been invited to special meetings of their group. They’re fascinating. I marvel at their profound humility. Even after years of sobriety, they never refer to themselves as ‘recovered’. They are always recovering. It’s a lifelong process that is as tenuous as one drink. They know the monster is always lurking at the bottom of a bottle, waiting to be released.

This reminds me of an experience I had in rural Texas. A friend used to capture feral hogs for hunters. (Regardless of your views of hunting, feral hogs are something completely different. They’re highly aggressive animals that will attack and kill the people who hunt them.)

When I say feral hogs, don’t think ‘Babe’. Think 500 pounds of vicious fury that would happily rip you open with long tusks that can grow as long as eighteen inches. Feral hogs are terrifying creatures.

My friend took me to see a recently captured hog. As soon as it saw us, it attacked the cage with such violence the ground shook. Given enough time I was sure the animal would’ve smashed the steel cage to pieces.

That’s how I picture sin. Through Christ we have victory over sin, but it isn’t dead. It stays in a cage. If we taunt it, play with it, eventually it will escape and tear us apart. All the healing we experienced in our spiritual recovery would be undone. The monster would be released and we’d be powerless to resist.

The folks in Alcoholics Anonymous recognize their powerlessness over alcohol. It keeps them from becoming arrogant or complacent. Disciples of Jesus Christ need to remember that they remain powerless over sin. Only through Christ do we ever have victory. Our claim is that we are recovering sinners, one day at a time.

That’s humility in the Undiscovered Country.

Nursing Home Ministry in the Undiscovered Country- Part One

“I don’t know about where you live, but around here churches don’t go to nursing homes any more,” I said to a couple of church people at a meeting.

I was greeted with blank stares. The subject was quickly changed to the latest church planting model.

Nursing home ministry isn’t trendy. A friend of my calls them ‘Hotel California’. You check in but you can never leave. It’s a place you go to get your heart broken.

Often times they’re shrouded in guilt. I sat with an elderly woman who was unconsolable. One day her daughter picked her up, telling her they were going shopping. Instead her daughter took her to the nursing home and left.

Through her tears she kept asking what she did wrong that her daughter would abandon her that way. I had no answer.

I sat with the woman and held her hand. I prayed with her, asking God to give her comfort and peace. There was nothing else I could do.

Ministry in the Undiscovered Country is costly. It costs time and effort. It breaks your heart and leaves you with more questions than answers.

And it never ends.

My church hasn’t grown in size through our ministry to nursing homes, but that’s not the point of ministry. Ministry is about giving, not building. We serve. God builds.

Ministry in the Undiscovered Country means giving with no expectation of receiving anything in return.

Family In The Undiscovered Country

One of my oldest and best friends has never uttered a word.

Margery was born with severe cerebral palsy. So severe is her condition, she has never spoken, walked or even fed herself. She has spent her life completely dependent on the care of others. Abandoned by her family, she bounced around from home to home.

Years of rejection by family and the system made Margery bitter and angry. This made her violent. She would thrash and bite and kick anyone who tried to help her.

Her life changed dramatically long before we ever met. For reasons not entirely clear to me, she started attending our church.

Margery quickly befriended the pastor’s wife, a no-nonsense retired school teacher from the Southern United States. Miss Olivia offered a love that Margery had never known. It was the love of Jesus Christ. Miss Olivia became the first real friend Margery ever had.

After service one Sunday morning, Margery pointed to the picture board attached to her wheelchair. It took thirty minutes for Miss Olivia to figure out that Margery wanted to accept Jesus as her Savior. The two prayed together that morning.

Two months later, Miss Olivia visited Margery at her group home. A staff member noticed Miss Olivia and confronted her. “What have you done to Margery?” she demanded.

Miss Olivia was startled. “What do you mean?”

“Something happened to her and we want to know what. Until a couple of months ago, Margery was mad. She fought us every day and we have the cuts and bruises to prove it. We hated her. Suddenly, she started smiling. We’d never seen her smile before. And she stopped fighting. Now she works with us. We want to know what happened to her.”

Miss Olivia smiled. “Two months ago Margery met Jesus,” she said.

I met Margery several years later. The woman I met was mischievous and playful. One Sunday morning she pushed her wheelchair in front of the bathroom door and locked me inside. All I could hear were howls of laughter as the bathroom door banged against her chair. We’ve played practical jokes on each other ever since.

Margery and I have been friends for twenty-one years. That makes her one of my oldest friends. It amazes to me think how none of this would’ve been possible if not for the transforming power of Jesus Christ. He gave her forgiveness, joy and a home.

That’s family in the Undiscovered Country.