Doing Church: Preadolescence

My own conversion experience may or may not encourage the reader. The good news is that for the last twenty-plus years I've been certain of my salvation. But really, the whole "assurance of salvation" thing has never been a huge issue for me. For many Christians, especially new converts, the doubts can be overwhelming.

When I was a young Christian, my concern wasn't so much whether or not I was saved, but whether or not Christianity was true. I'm happy to proclaim that for over two decades I've been certain that Biblical Christianity is not only true, but the only way to find one's ultimate meaning and purpose in life.

During late childhood, I was a fairly curious kid. Age-appropriate science books fascinated me and I loved building things, such as plastic model ships, balsa airplanes, rockets and even a replica of the gallows used to hang the conspirators in Abraham Lincoln's assassination.

 Lee and Ray Nash families (June 20, 1972).  Standing L. to R.:  Ray, Betty, Jan, Patti,
 Aunt Grayce, Uncle Lee, cousin Murray.   Sitting L. to R.:  Pam, cousin LeAnn, Tom, cousin Torrey

Really, my mind was all over the place. Occasionally I'd even ponder the things of God. I remember asking Dad some run-of-the-mill tough questions, such as "How do you know God exists?" or "Why doesn't God show himself plainly?" Kids start asking these types of questions as soon as they become self aware. But I must confess, I wasn't overly curious about God.

Dan Fisher, my best friend during my late childhood and teens, was a real blessing. We both shared a passion for building things and he ultimately became an engineer. I ended up with an English degree. Ha!

Dan was reared in an evangelical Christian home that differed significantly from the sleepy Presbyterianism that I was raised with. It was through him that I learned about faith in a personal God who is real and near. I also learned that I needed to make a decision for God -- to believe and convert. The details of all this hadn't sunk in, but it slowly became clear.

My father had made an effort to make the Faith relevant to our family. There was a time in my late childhood when Dad decided to lead weekly family devotionals (I think Sunday evenings) where he shared Christian truths with us. That may have been what inspired my testy questions about God. These family times lasted less than a year. I'm not sure how excited my sisters were about these family devotionals, but my own lack of enthusiasm may have discouraged Dad. Captive audiences are no fun. Nevertheless, I'm glad he made the effort.

Tom, Dan Fisher and Cyrus (April 22, 1972)

When I was about eleven years old (1970 or 71), Dan Fisher invited me to go watch the movie The Cross and the Switchblade, starring Pat Boone as the reverend David Wilkerson and Erik Estrada (of CHiPs fame) as the young New York street gang leader, Nicky Cruz. I really looked forward to seeing the movie because I'd heard there was a lot of graphic gang violence depicted in the "rumbles." I hadn't thought much about the plot, which involved pastor Wilkerson being called by God to minister to the street gangs.

Mom drove Dan and me to an Assembly of God church on 19th Street in Springfield, located just a few blocks from the Presbyterian church (demolished a few years earlier) of my early childhood. The Assembly of God church had been promoting The Cross and the Switchblade, which they were showing in their sanctuary. I remember enjoying the movie and being somewhat relieved that the violence was less graphic than expected. The courage of Wilkerson impressed me, as well as the dramatic conversions of the gang members.

When the movie ended and the lights came on, a man walked on stage. I assume he was the Assembly of God pastor. I wasn't expecting an altar call, but that's what happened. It didn't seem all that strange to me. I'd probably seen Billy Graham crusades on TV, so I was aware of altar calls. The pastor shared a few things (which I don't remember) and concluded by urging people to believe and accept Christ as Savior and Lord. It's possible that the actual prayer of salvation occurred while the audience was still seated. Then, after the prayer, we were asked to walk to the stage. And yes, I did recite the sinner's prayer and I did walk forward.

From the stage, the new converts were directed to a side room, where we filled out cards, prayed and talked with councelors. I remember only a small amount of counseling, but a lot of praying. I think we were told to confess our past sins to God and repent. My list was fairly short, but the fellow next to me went on at length, confessing sins that my semi-innocent mind didn't know existed. He was about thirty years old and looked like a biker-gang member. He seemed like a fairly hardcore hombre, but his tearful repentance seemed genuine. I found his dramatic conversion much more interesting than my own.

My mother and Dan must have been very patient as they waited for me to complete the conversion process. A few weeks later, someone from the Assembly of God church telephoned me for some post-conversion followup. They did the right thing by contacting me, but for some reason I was passive, non-committal and relieved when the conversation ended. It's not that I was rejecting my new-found faith. There was a certain amount of zeal in my heart concerning the things of God. I was reading the Bible, praying and even read David Wilkerson's book, The Cross and the Switchblade. Then I read, Run, Baby, Run by Nicky Cruz.

I'm pretty sure my conversion, at age 11, was real. I was sincere about it. However, within a year I had lost all interest in the faith. Although I was still quite shy and innocent, puberty with its passions beckoned. Worldliness seemed much more interesting than Jesus.

Nash family photo (April 6, 1971)

Strict, 5-point Calvinists would probably say I wasn't truly converted. The P in TULIP stands for perseverance of the saints. They would interpret this to mean that someone who has been born again (regenerated) and indwelt by the Holy Spirit, is transformed and will continually be transformed. This will result in visible, positive change in their behavior that will steadily improve over a lifetime.

My perseverance lasted less than a year. Now, there are less-strict Calvinists who interpret perseverance to mean "once saved, always saved." They would say that genuine Christians are capable of significant backsliding. God doesn't force Christians to seek relationship with him. We can turn to the dark side and still be saved, according to less-rigid Calvinists. I sure hope the flexible Calvinists are right, but I don't know for sure.

John Wesley's face marks the other side of the salvation coin. Wesleyans believe we can be genuinely saved, but can later lose our salvation. Of course, the question arises concerning when that point occurs. How low does a Christian need to sink before losing the gift of eternal life?

I tend to lean in the direction of the flexible Calvinists, who believe in "once saved, always saved." However, I'm aware of the tough Scriptures that seem to indicate otherwise. So, if a seemingly genuine Christian takes a nosedive into deep, long-term carnality, I'm sure not going to tell him that he's saved. If he shows no evidence of regeneration, why give him hope? He needs to repent and turn to Christ.

Salvation theology is a paradox. When we take a strong position one way, holes in our argument tend to appear. I say we should just bask in the mystery, while being open to compelling arguments from all sides.

Meanwhile, as I approached my teenage years, I couldn't have cared less about God and salvation. All I wanted to do was play sports, have fun and be increasingly naughty.

Doing Church: Childhood

May 10, 1964. Tom, Mom (Betty), Patti, Grandma (Grace Nash), Jan, Pam

One of my first memories of church was a cornmeal sandbox. As a four-year-old Sundayschooler at First United Presbyterian Church in Springfield, Oregon, I remember smelling the sweet, milled grain as it sifted through my fingers. I don't think I ate any of it. And yes, I'm certain we sang Jesus Loves Me, This I Know. It was then that I first heard the story of Jesus riding on a donkey into Jerusalem, while crowds of people tossed palm leaves on the ground. That image stuck. Sunday school was the fun part of church.

I dreaded those Sundays when Mom and Dad forced me to sit through the regular church service. As a four-year-old, I found the formal, written liturgy meaningless and boring, especially since I couldn't read it. Reverend Gardner would recite lines and prayers, and the congregation would respond in unison. We'd stand and sit, stand and sit. The hymns, accompanied by organ music and choir, piqued my curiosity, not over of the meaning of the lyrics, but for that drawn-out "amen" ending them all. What did that mean? It was the same word that came at the end of prayers. That much I knew.

Then came the sermon. I think Mom granted mercy by allowing me to scribble in a coloring book. She pacified my three older sisters by pushing back their cuticles. It was a productive thirty-minute distraction for the girls. Pam and Jan recently told me it was a good kind of pain.

My favorite hymn was the doxology, which I believe we sang a cappella:

July 1964. First United Presbyterian Church complex in Springfield

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;

Praise him, all creatures here below;          

Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;          

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.           

Amen.            

(Words by Thomas Ken, 1674. Music attributed to Louis Bourgeois, 1551)

The singing of the doxology imparted within my heart the expectation of immanent release. But I had to endure the final, parting words from the pastor. Then, with a burst of organ music, it came -- the slow, orderly chaos of folks exiting the pews after nearly 1 1/2 hours of rigid formality.

I'd follow Mom out of the sanctuary to the church kitchen, located in another building. More curiosities awaited. The large coffee percolator fascinated me with the little glass ball on top full of bubbling brew. I loved the smell of fresh coffee, though it tasted yucky. Mom must have volunteered to prepare desserts and beverages for the post-service social time. She also served, I would learn, for a few years as the church secretary.

John Knox

For me, those childhood years at the Presbyterian church were all about sights, sounds, smells, and boredom. Though God was surely mentioned, I don't recall the spiritual or religious aspects of church. I couldn't have cared less about John Knox (1513-1572), the Scottish reformer and theologian who founded Presbyterianism. Nor did I know or care that Knox met and was greatly influenced by the protestant reformer John Calvin (which explains the Calvinistic roots of Presbyterianism).

Springfield's First United Presbyterian Church was demolished, I think in the late 1960's, probably due to the nearby construction of Interstate 105. The church was located where Mohawk Blvd. morphs into19th Street, very close to where the highway overpass and off ramp would be built. It survives in memory only. Funny thing, I can't visualize the people from that congregation. It's as if they are invisible ghosts. But they were there; I'm certain attendance was pretty high back then.

September 8, 1966. Day one of first grade with
 my best friend from childhood, Kelly Thomas

Faces and names began to stick in my memory after 1966, when the Nash family moved 20 miles east to the McKenzie Valley, in timber country. At that point, we typically attended the Walterville and Leaburg Presbyterian churches. I noticed people more when they hosted get-togethers at their homes. An autumn party comes to mind where homemade apple juice was offered and the host boasted about his stash of hard cider.

The larger Springfield congregation continued to meet at an Episcopalian church near Springfield Junior High School. They shared the sanctuary with the Episcopalians, who conducted their services at a different time on Sundays. After a few years, the Springfield congregation called it quits. The Walterville and Leaburg locations were all that remained. Of course, there were still a few Presbyterian churches in Eugene.

Mom and Dad made me go to church until I turned 13. As a teenager, I attended on rare occasions, only under intense pressure from Dad, who would say something like, "Your mother would really be happy if you went to church with us this Sunday. Okay?" I'd answer yes with a groan.

There's an irony about all this. Even if you've only skimmed through this blog post, you've probably deduced that I disliked church as a child. The formal and traditional aspects of the Presbyterian church bored me all the more. Back then, I may have perked up over a trendy, contemporary service. But the very things I disliked as a child, are what interest me now as a 57-year-old. I love old hymns from hymnals. I love ministers in robes and vestments who preach short sermons. I love reciting back-and-forth from a formal, written liturgy. I love pews and stained glass. Go figure.

July 16, 1964. Dad (Ray) and I in our backyard at Carter Lane in Springfield

The above-mentioned "traditional" qualities still exist in some mainline protestant denominations, but these churches are typically compromised on doctrine and don't adhere to Biblical inerrancy or even the less-rigid infallibility. I'd love to visit a traditional, reformation-style protestant church that is doctrinally orthodox and adheres to Biblical innerancy. Does such a church exist in Lane County? The closest I've found is the conservative Lutheran Church Missouri Synod, but they place too much emphasis on Communion, believing that the bread and wine become the true body and blood of Christ.
Occasionally, I enjoy visiting Grace Lutheran Church (Missouri Synod) in Eugene. They are a wonderful example of a Reformation style, traditional service. And the sermons are really short! God bless.

Doing Church: Conception to Toddler

My first experience doing church happened before I was born.

Summer 1959. Nash's at Honeyman Park. Unborn son to Pam's right.

In 1959, as an embryo in my mother's womb, I likely felt the vibrations of the organ and choir at the Evangelical United Brethren (EUB) Church in Eugene. The fervent sermons of pastor Max Morgan must have reverberated through my DNA as Mom sat patiently in the pew, gazing at the stained glass windows.

My parents, Ray and Betty, joined the EUB in late 1955, the year sister Patti was born and the year Dad began his first teaching job at Brattain Elementary School. He volunteered as the "youth adviser" for the Eugene EUB's high school group. The church didn't have a paid youth pastor.

The national EUB denomination formed in 1946, a merger of the Evangelical Church and United Brethren in Christ Church. Incidentally, my great grandfather, Thomas Wesley Nash, was a pastor for the United Brethren in Christ Church -- first in Minnesota and later at a beautiful hillside church in Hopewell, Oregon. I'm pretty sure his middle name was given in honor of the great 18th-century English theologian and preacher, John Wesley, who founded Methodism. I was named after Thomas W. Nash, though our middle names differ.

John Wesley

The two denominations that formed the EUB were rooted in the teachings of John Wesley, who was deeply influenced by the Dutch protestant theologian, Jacobus Arminius (1560-1609). Arminius was famous for his criticisms of some of the theology of French reformer John Calvin (1509-1564).

Jacobus Arminius

In 1610, Arminius's followers, the Remonstrants, published five points critical of Calvinism. In 1611, Calvin's followers countered with five points of their own, which in later years developed into the Five Points of Calvinism (known by the acronym TULIP --Total depravity, Unconditional election, Limited atonement, Irresistible grace and Perseverance of the saints). So, the Five Points of Calvinism were actually a response to Arminianism.

John Calvin

It's important to note that this five-point debate occurred when both Calvin and Arminius were dead. Both theologians had produced volumes of work in their lifetimes, so we should be careful not to limit their contributions to just these five points. Their knowledge of the Christian faith was much broader.

My guess is that Mom and Dad weren't all that enthusiastic about Wesleyan/Arminian theology. My parents were both raised in that tradition, so it made sense they would continue in that mode. Mom was raised in the Church of the Nazarene and Dad was raised in the Evangelical Church. This explains how their paths first crossed at Cascade College (Portland, Oregon), a Christian college favored by several Wesleyan denominations.

In a recent interview, Dad said that in the 6-7 years our family attended the EUB, the church went through about three pastors: Dolph Ballantyne, Leo Thornton (who baptized Dad) and Max Morgan. Dad thought highly of Leo Thornton and described his preaching as well balanced. But the third pastor, Max Morgan, drove my father up the wall. Morgan was a hard-nosed preacher who placed a heavy emphasis on the experience of sanctification and holiness. This was known as a "second work of grace," subsequent to conversion. So, after someone is born again and saved, they still needed to experience a special work of the Holy Spirit whereby they are dramatically transformed in such a way that they will no longer sin. According to my father, Pastor Morgan actually believed Christians could instantly attain this state of moral perfection.

January 1960. Pam, Tom (at 2 1/2 months), Mom, Patti. 

Needless to say, Dad didn't buy into that doctrine. He saw inconsistencies between Max's preaching and his behavior. If Morgan claimed to be free from any sinful behavior, then his actions and conduct needed to be perfect 24/7. Dad noticed during church league softball games that Pastor Morgan would get angry when the ump ruled against him, or if his teammates performed badly. Dad assumed that if Max were questioned about his behavior, he would have rationalized it as "righteous anger." After all, in the Gospels Jesus displayed righteous anger in the temple when He violently turned over the tables of the money changers.

For two to three years, my father endured Pastor Morgan's stern holiness sermons. Eventually, Dad quit the EUB. "I figured I'm not compatible here anymore," he told me recently. "So I left it with no place to go." When he quit, he didn't have another church in mind. Dad speculates that Mom was too loyal and long suffering to quit on her own, though she too wasn't thrilled with Morgan's preaching. Nevertheless, she followed Dad's lead in leaving the church.

My sister Pam thinks she was a four-year-old when we left the EUB, probably in 1962. I would have been about two. The EUB would eventually merge with the Methodist Church in 1968 to form the United Methodist Church, which claims such members as George W. Bush and Hillary Clinton.

January 1960. Outdoor ceremony during renovations at Eugene EUB
Church. Likely it is Mom carrying me (baby in light-blue hood).

Soon after our family left the EUB, Dad heard positive things about a Presbyterian minister named Milton Gardner, who pastored a mid-sized church in Springfield, as well as two little country churches in the McKenzie Valley, east of Springfield. Of the small churches, one was located in Walterville, the other in Leaburg. The pastor conducted an early-morning service in Springfied, then, for the late-morning service, alternated  between the two country churches (each every other week).

Dad thinks he first heard Milt Gardner preach at the Walterville location, 20 miles east of our Springfield home. My father was impressed with the sermon and discovered he shared a similar background with Gardner. Both were raised in the Wesleyan tradition and felt the need to change direction. Our family usually attended the Springfield Presbyterian church, which was closer to our home. In 1966 (or 67), we moved 20 miles east to the McKenzie Valley, where we typically attended the nearby Leaburg and Walterville churches.

Presbyterianism has its roots in Calvinism, so Dad became quite the rebel changing camps like he did. However, by the 1960's the Presbyterian Church USA (the denomination's current name) was in the middle of a historical shift towards theological liberalism. Biblical inerrancy and dogmatic theology (along with strict Calvinism) were no longer stressed. The social gospel became the focus.

Dad doesn't describe Milt Gardner as a liberal. He was an intellectual, who preached in a lecture style more akin to a college professor. He was evangelical and orthodox, believing the fundamentals of the Faith and the need for lost sinners to believe the Gospel of Jesus Christ for salvation. He stopped short of giving altar calls. Says Dad of Pastor Gardner, "When he preached a sermon, you knew he was well prepared. He believed that the scriptures were the inspired Word of God."

The Presbyterian Churches in Springfield, Walterville and Leaburg were very traditional in appearance and function. The pastor wore a clerical robe and vestments. The liturgy was formal. Old hymns were sung from real hymnals. The Springfield and Walterville churches had stained glass windows. All three had wooden pews. But alas, I was too young to remember that first year or two after the EUB. My memories began to stick when I was four or five, 1963 or 1964. Thus began my childhood as a Presbyerian.

Much thanks to nephew Ben Donovan for digitizing Dad's priceless slides.

My 1st birthday, 10/22/1960. Jan, Tom, Patti and Pam. Notice pistol on my left hip to ward off pesky big sisters.

To Be Chester Metz

The following is a true story about my good friend, Chester Metz. He gave me permission to post the story and the photograph onto this blog. It's been nearly two years since I wrote this and I'm happy to report that Chester is alive, kicking and inspiring as ever. Be blessed.

* * *

To Be Chester Metz

1973. Chester Metz staggered along a dark, secluded street in Long Island, New York. A car slowed to a stop. Two strangers got out and approached the four-foot-eight drunk. They beat him, marring a face

After church with Chester Metz

already disfigured by congenital paralysis.

Police found Metz alone, bruised, bloodied, still drunk. They drove him to a hospital, where he underwent surgery to repair his facial wounds. After a night’s rest, he mustered the energy to leave his room. Wandering through the halls, he approached a statue of Christ. He stood before it, transfixed. Metz began to cry: “Oh God, help me!”

The next morning, a taxi driver arrived at the hospital with orders to take Chester to an alcohol treatment facility. The cabby didn’t have directions, so he changed course and dropped his battered passenger at the local welfare office. A social worker directed Chester to a nearby shelter.

He walked several blocks to the Shiloh House. The shelter was part of the California-based Shiloh Youth Revival Centers, which led the charge during the “Jesus People” movement of the late-1960s and 70s.

Chester arrived at the house scarred from a twenty-eight-year lifetime of physical and emotional wounds. He encountered caring Christians, who shared the Good News of Christ’s love and salvation.

One day, while reading a booklet that explained how to find salvation through Jesus, Chester wandered into the Shiloh house bathroom. He noticed a prayer printed on a back page of the book. At that moment, the Holy Spirit powerfully touched Chester’s heart. He placed his faith in Christ by reciting the printed prayer of salvation. Chester exited the bathroom a born-again Christian.

“My heart was a ball of fire,” he recalls, “and I knew that God was purging out the bad and the old, and putting in the new and the good.”

God instantly removed Chester’s desire for alcohol and cigarettes. His cravings for sugar also ceased. He had previously been diagnosed with borderline diabetes. All signs of the disease disappeared.

After a year at the Long Island shelter, he and a friend hitchhiked across the country to Shiloh’s seventy-acre commune in Dexter, Oregon. Chester immersed himself in intensive Bible training at their Study Center. This formed the foundation for his lifelong ministry.

Fast-forward to 2015. Chester, 69, lives in a tiny one-room apartment in Springfield, Oregon. When in public, he sports a suit, tie, slacks (often plaid), dress hat, and running shoes. He walks slowly, with a cane, and easily strikes up conversations with those around him. No one gets away without hearing his jokes. His short stature, unique visage, formal attire and big personality make Chester an unforgettable local fixture.

Chester awakens each morning thanking God for the new day, enjoying fellowship with Him. While shaving, showering and eating breakfast, he prays for the people in his life. After a short rest, he leaves the apartment to begin his daily voluntary ministry. A caregiver accompanies him five days a week, assisting with chores, shopping and other needs.

His voice muffled somewhat by the facial paralysis, Chester describes his calling: “Every day, to pray for people, minister to people, encourage, share the gospel, whatever it is that God would lay on my heart to do, that would be for His glory and for the purpose of salvation….”

He accomplishes this ministry by visiting people in coffee shops, restaurants, stores and businesses throughout Springfield. “He [God] has given me the gift of encouragement, the gift to love and uplift someone, the gift of laughter.”

Sundays, Chester attends Ekklesia, a large, trendy, youthful church. He arrives early and leaves late, fellowshipping with and hugging anyone willing to bend down to his level.

Chester has endured a lifetime of hard knocks, beginning at birth with the facial paralysis. Two botched “corrective” surgeries further marred his face. His expression is frozen. Whether happy or upset, Chester can’t form a smile or a frown.

In boyhood, his tiny stature drew the wrath of bullies, who ridiculed and sometimes beat him. The bullying decreased after high school, but Chester began drinking heavily. He continued to live with his parents. When he came home drunk, his father would severely beat him.

Chester suffered debilitating headaches between 1977 and 1979. At that time he attended a church that emphasized miraculous healing. For two weeks, the leaders prayed for God to take away the headaches. Healing didn’t occur, so they asked Chester to leave the church.

This rejection led to disillusionment. For a few years Chester rarely attended church. Eventually he plugged back into regular fellowship.

Today, fellowship defines him. “Especially recently, God has brought my life to a point where I not only value, but really love my brothers and sisters, and not [to] just say it, but do it in deed and in truth, with prayer or acts of love, ministering to them.”

In 2011, he began dialysis when his kidneys failed. Then God healed him -- instantly. “That was a miracle,” he says, “…I should have died, but the Lord greatly intervened.”

How can someone with all the bad breaks in life be full of so much love and joy? Instead of dwelling on his hardships, Chester cultivates his relationships with God and others. “I continue to pray and spend time in His Word, remembering most of all to keep my relationship and fellowship [with God] going. And to reach out to others in love, whether it’s a word of encouragement or to pray with them -- continue to let God be glorified in everything I say and do….”

When asked what guidelines he lives by, he explains the JOY principle: “You want to get real joy? Put Jesus first, Others second, Yourself last.”

Chester promotes the power of prayer, citing Luke 11:9 as a favorite verse, “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock and the door shall be opened unto you.”

Is he afraid of death? “No, certainly not, because His perfect love casts out fear…. Before I got saved, I had torment, I was afraid of death, ...when we love the brethren and love God first…there is no fear there, but there’s a peace and a joy, knowing where you’re going after you leave.”

To be Chester Metz is to live within a paradox of hardship and miracles. To be Chester Metz is to continually view people below shoulder level. It is to speak words of joy from a glad heart, to create smiles in others -- though your own face can’t form a smile. It is to fearlessly stare death and life in the face. To be Chester Metz is to know and love God, and to love others above yourself.

Ugly Rhetoric Reflects U.S. Need for Core Change

I can identify with the anger and loose tongues so prevalent in today's political culture. I too have been guilty of letting it fly, though not so much these days. And today, with the internet just a fingertip away, it's easier to

How not to write a blog post or run for president

vent anger through writing than with the spoken word. Many articles and blogs have a comments section, which I sometimes find more interesting than the articles themselves. I've been known to write critical comments after reading a particularly disagreeable article or blog post. My, um, goal is to give constructive criticism, which is a good and needful thing.

On many Christian websites, some comments by Christians go beyond thoughtful criticisms to blatant insults. An insult tends to draw other fiery comments, perhaps by non-Christians with opposing views. The Christian will then counter punch, and soon we have an embarrassing fight where the unbeliever ends up more convinced than ever that most Christians are obnoxious hypocrites.

Christianity Today Magazine recently began a campaign called Beautiful Orthodoxy. Over the years, they noticed how the truths of the Christian faith are sometimes presented in ugly ways, especially on the internet. Part of this ugliness was evident in their comments sections below the main online articles. It got so bad that CT decided to stop/limit comments, though readers can still blather on the CT fcebk page. Anyway, CT started Beautiful Orthodoxy to promote the idea that truth can be expressed in an appealing way. This movement sounds good, as long as orthodoxy isn't compromised in an attempt to make it palatable. But that's another issue.

Prior to writing online comments or (ahem) blog posts, we should think through a few guidelines that force us to take a look at our motives. First, is God being glorified by my writing? Second, are the readers being edified? Am I being loving toward others, especially toward those I'm criticizing? In general, do my comments reflect the fruit of the Spirit? Before I respond to someone's disagreeable comment, I should take a deep breath and pray, "Lord, what can I write that will bless this person?"

At this point, I'm afraid to look back at the stuff I've written. Without a doubt I've posted things with the intent to win, dominate or even hurt. There's a difference between winning an argument and winning someone's heart. It's okay to respectfully persuade someone to embrace my position (assuming my position is valid). It's not okay to defeat them for the sake of boosting my ego.

1 Peter 3:15 is typically used as a reminder for Christians to always be prepared to share their faith. Indeed, it's a great verse for that purpose. However, the entire verse says a few things about our heart and method: "...but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect..." Whether in evangelism or on the internet, our purpose is to honor God and love people.

Colossians 4:6 is similar: "Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person." Gracious means being kind and pleasant in manner, as well as reflecting God's unmerited favor and mercy. The notes in the ESV Study Bible say that seasoned with salt suggests "speaking in an interesting, stimulating, and a wise way."

Then there's the ugly, unwise political rhetoric of our current presidential election. In a democracy, our leaders are typically a reflection of those who elect them. New York Times columnist David Brooks recently wrote of the presidential campaign, "We are now in a society in which serial insults to basic decency aren't automatically disqualifying. Clearly, we have a giant task of moral repair ahead of us."

Brooks is on the right track and offers a variety of practical solutions for our country's post-election future; and certainly we should do all we can, through policy, to deal with our country's problems, not to mention the current large-scale populist discontent. But moral repair won't happen with political band aids.

True moral repair happens through a transformed heart. Jesus said, "For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks." (Matthew 12:34). Our national tongue won't be tamed until our country's heart changes. Revival is the answer for the United States and our speech habits. 19th century preacher Charles Spurgeon described revival as: "...to live again, to receive again a life which has almost expired; to rekindle into a flame the vital spark which was nearly extinguished."

The rekindling begins with the Christian church, those who already have the spark of spiritual life inside. When that spark is revived, the ugly rhetoric within the church will be replaced by gentle, respectful and gracious truth, seasoned with salt. Then the revival will spread to unbelievers, who will be wooed by the Holy Spirit into the loving arms of our Heavenly Father. This is the core change that will transform individuals, communities, regions and entire nations. I believe in miracles.

Historically, revival happens when Christians pray for it. I must confess, I have not been praying for our nation's revival. However, now is a good time to start. Will you join me? God bless America and the whole world.

Horrible President? The U.S. Will Survive and Perhaps Thrive

Though the Devil him/herself may be our next president, I'm confident that our country will survive and perhaps thrive. Why? Because the founders of our nation created a brilliant document called the U.S. Constitution -- the blueprint by which our federal government operates. Within the Constitution is a check-and-balance system that prevents any one branch of government from asserting too much power.

Could a dimwitted Devil be our next president?

Of course, with the election just around the corner, the fate of the executive branch concerns us most these days. What if an incompetent tyrant becomes President? First of all, the U.S. Constitution was created to foil a bad president's devilish schemes. The founders understood the fallibility of the human heart. Contrary to 21st century post-modern philosophy that takes a high view of the human soul, the founders realized the intrinsic evil within all of us. They knew that if any one person is given too much power, that power would likely be abused. To prevent this, the U.S.Constitution mandates something called the separation of powers.

To see how this works, let's quickly review the three branches of our federal government. They are the Executive ( the president and his appointees), the Legislative (the Senate and House of Representatives), and the Judicial (the Supreme Court and lower courts). Each branch has the authority to overrule the other branches. Most presidential decisions must receive congressional approval before becoming law. Likewise, congressional legislation typically needs a presidential signature to become law. The Supreme Court can invalidate a proposed congressional law by declaring it unconstitutional. The Supreme Court can also declare an executive (presidential) order unconstitutional, thus invalidating it.

So, when we elect a dimwitted Tasmanian devil as our next president, he/she will be thwarted by the Legislative and Judicial branches of our wonderful federal government. Though the next president will likely cause some injury to our nation and the world, the Constitution helps prevent extensive damage. Also, if the president blatantly abuses power and breaks laws, he or she can be impeached and removed from office.

In my opinion, a bad president can only inflict a limited amount of harm to our country. We will survive and perhaps thrive. Granted, the system is not perfect. If it were flawless, we would never elect a lousy president to begin with. Mistakes do happen, but thank God for our great founders, who created a Constitution with solid checks and balances.

Our country is experiencing a short-term discontent within the electorate, both liberal and conservative, that has resulted in a broad-base desire for radical change. Socialist Bernie Sanders nearly defeated establishment candidate Hillary Clinton for the Democratic nomination. Promising big change, Donald Trump won his party's nomination by defeating a large field of establishment Republicans. I see all this as a short-term, fluky phenomenon caused in part by the polarization between the Obama administration and the conservative congress. The public, both left and right, became sick and tired of nothing getting done. As chaotic as this current situation is, I think it will resolve itself.

However, there is a long-term malaise that is slowly spreading through the soul of our country. This malaise has been caused by the gradual transformation of the American world view over decades. These societal changes slowly affect change within all three branches government. The malaise affects both Democrats and Republicans, liberals and conservatives, zealous and apathetic. The will of American society, if persistent through the years, will cause significant change in leadership.

Our world view has become much less vertical, and much more horizontal. See my blog post The Rise of the Nones, which discusses the 2012 Pew research data showing a steady decline of religious affiliation by Americans. In a nutshell, we are slowly becoming a country that ignores God. This is a long-term sickness of the American soul that isn't directly related to politics. However, it certainly reflects the type of political leaders we elect.

I think it's fine and necessary to criticize our political leaders, as long as the criticism is valid. But there's a big difference between valid criticisms and tasteless insults. All the derogatory language we see among the candidates simply reflects our cultural decline.

The Bible tells us to pray for our leaders. And yes, Scripture says we are to obey them (even those we voted against), though we should not obey those laws that violate God's laws. The New Testament was written during the rule of an evil Roman government that persecuted Christians.

This has been by far the most chaotic and distasteful presidential campaign of my (nearly) 57 years. I'm a bit of an eye-rolling cynic, so my response to this circus has been mostly mocking snickers, rather than anger. In a way, we're getting what we deserve by voting these people in. Though democracy strikes out occasionally, it usually hits the ball pretty good. And thank God for those checks and balances.

So that's my political philosophy contained in a single blog post. The Tasmanian devil made me do it.

Inside Out or Outside In?

You've probably heard the Christian truism: "Real, positive change in a person happens from the inside out." This means that if someone exhibits negative external behavior, then the true problem lies beneath the surface, within their dark soul. So, as their soul is transformed by the Holy Spirit, their visible behavior will

Branches bear good fruit when attached to the main Vine

eventually change for the better. I would say this is true...in part.

But another Christian truism says, "Lead with the body to open your heart to the Spirit." This is also true, but may seem contradictory to the first saying. "Leading with the body" implies that we begin with works in order to produce change in the heart.

In his Spiritual Formation lecture series, Dr. John Coe mentions an interesting difference between Baby Boomers and their parents, who were children of the Great Depression. The parents stressed external change, leading with the body and facing negative behaviors head on. The Boomers, however, focused on the heart (or soul), looking deep within themselves for meaning and answers to life's problems. One was external, the other internal. Both are true, I think. But both can go too far and get out of balance. One can lead with the body without giving proper attention to the heart. The other can focus so much on the heart that common-sense actions are neglected.

Jesus said, "I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing." (John 15:5 ESV). For a long time, this verse both comforted and disturbed me. Initially, I interpreted it two ways. First, that "abiding in Christ" was some sort of mystical union where I would get connected to God in a feel-good spiritual way, similar to what some think of as walking in the Spirit.

A second interpretation was that abiding meant rigorous love for God and others, as in dogged obedience and works. If I loved and obeyed really, really hard, then I'd bear much fruit. A problem occurred (rather frequently) during those times when I felt unspiritual, disconnected or disobedient  to Christ. This problem had to do with verse 6, "If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned." So, abiding in the Vine was no longer this peaceful, relational, pastoral idea of Christian spirituality. It was more like: you'd better maintain a continual, high level of obedience, along with a Spirit-filled life, or you will burn in hell.

This issue got resolved when I realized a third possible interpretation -- perhaps "abiding in Christ" referred to the Christian's one-time conversion by faith, not some up-and-down spiritual experience or high level of obedience. So, at the moment we convert and ask Christ to be our Lord and Savior, then we are solidly and forever abiding in the Vine. Even though we still sin and often don't feel connected, we are always connected by that one-time faith. So, if you are a Christian (whether strong or weak), you are abiding in the Vine. There's no need to strive for something more.

Of course, we need to define fruit. Later in John 15, Jesus indicates that those who abide and bear fruit will keep His commandments, abide in His love and love others. In Galatians 5:23, the fruit of the Spirit is listed as "...love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control; against such things there is no law." In Colossians 1:10, Paul prays that the believers at Colossae "...may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God." So, it's safe to say that bearing fruit encompasses a lot, pretty much anything good that comes from the Christian's life. I don't think fruit refers specifically to winning souls to Christ. Not all are called to be evangelists, though all should "...be ready to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give a reason for the hope that you have." (1 Peter 3:15). So, I think we are fruitful by being willing and prepared to share the Gospel. The results are up to God.

So why are some Christians not bearing fruit? Some would say that unfruitful Christians are actually not Christians. The Calvinistic P in TULIP asserts the perseverance of the saints, that a true regenerated Christian will follow and obey Christ throughout their lives. Their lives will bear fruit. I would say this may be true in some cases.

My position is that if someone claims to be a Christian, but their overall behavior, words, and beliefs don't line up with Biblical truth, then they might not be a Christian. I think it's okay to gently express this doubt to the supposed Christian. It's better to risk offending someone who shows no evidence of their claim to faith, than to give them a false hope that they are saved. However, I don't know for sure what's going on in their heart. Since my boyhood conversion, I've drifted (big time) from the faith three times. Each time, I eventually came back. I'm pretty sure I was saved during the big drifts, but there is some doubt.

Why are some genuine Christians bearing little fruit, while others are bearing much? I think, in part, it's because the unfruitful Christians are neglecting the little things God has called them to. Some of Christ's parables talk about how his followers need to be faithful with little, so they will be entrusted with much. If we don't make the effort to take baby steps, how will we learn to run?

Being "faithful with little" involves leading with the body, which opens our heart to the Spirit. This can refer to the spiritual disciplines, such as prayer, confession, fellowship with strong believers, serving others, Bible reading, etc..  If God wants me to read the Bible daily, then I need to lead with my body by turning on my Kindle Fire and reading my ESV. It sounds like works, but it's really faith in action. James explains how Abraham's faith was completed by his works: "Was not Abraham our father justified by works when he offered up his son Isaac on the altar? You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was completed by his works; and the Scripture was fulfilled that says, 'Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness' -- and he was called a friend of God." (James 2:21-23 ESV).

Ah, but when I get too comfortable in leading with the body, there is a danger that it will become dead, faithless works. The purpose of a spiritual discipline isn't to pat myself on the back for doing it. Rather, it is to open myself to the Holy Spirit's work in my soul. That is why I'm to be faithful in the little things. When I do my part, God will do His part by transforming my heart and producing spiritual fruit in my life. As Paul said, "...work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure." I think salvation here refers not to the afterlife, but on how we navigate through the problems and circumstances of this life. I do my part and God does His part.

However, I've found that I can fall flat on my face even trying to do the little things. Sometimes the Lord reminds me that I need His strength in order to do anything. Paul said, "But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of my weakness, so that the power of Christ will rest upon me." (2 Corinthians 12:9). I've lost count of the times I've prayed, "Please help me Lord! Apart from you I can do nothing!"

Is it inside out or outside in? I'd say both, but only if we're first connected to the Vine at conversion, by faith. Then, we lead with the body, so the Holy Spirit can transform our souls and produce genuine fruit in our lives.