A Time for Thanksgiving

“Pastor Martin?”

A slightly anxious voice quickly followed an equally anxious knock on my study door. Weary, I lifted my head out of my hands and looked toward the doorway from what was my only real place of refuge from the tumult of cares outside. Somehow, those cares always managed to seep into my study nonetheless.

“Yes, Johannes, come in,” I reluctantly replied to my assistant’s query.

Johannes, a young man of twenty, opened the door and hesitantly entered the room. Though the light from the fire in my hearth was dim, I could still make out the exhaustion in Johannes’ face. It was an expression I knew I wore myself, though it seemed Johannes still bore the remains of youthful exuberance. Any trace of youth had left my features ages ago.

“What is it, Johannes?” I said, mildly annoyed, to my assistant.

“I’m sorry, Pastor Martin,” Johannes stammered. “I know that this is the time of day you particularly ask not to be disturbed, but a courier from the mayor was just here and delivered this.” Johannes extended a missive in my direction. I could see the Eilenberg seal, with the mayor’s initials on the outside.

“I see,” I muttered, somewhat gruffly. “No, don’t be sorry, my son. The mayor’s messages ought to be delivered immediately, despite my preference for peace at this hour.” I smiled at the lad—indeed, it was hard not to think of him as a lad. He had been but an infant when I first became pastor in Eilenberg; but he was a child no longer. “I will read the mayor’s letter, Johannes, but unless the matter is of the utmost urgency, I do not believe I will send a reply until the morning. You may retire to your room for the evening. I’ll rouse you should I need your assistance.”

Johannes showed the slightest look of relief, nodded, and then turned to leave. But before taking a step, he turned once more towards me. “Are you alright, Pastor Martin?” As soon as the question became audible Johannes tried to clarify what he realized, considering the circumstances, might have been a foolish question. “What I meant, sir, is that, well, you seem especially tired this evening. Were the visits particularly difficult today?”

Once again, I couldn’t help smiling at the lad, this time, out of gratitude for his loyal concern. No, it was true, in one sense, I wasn’t alright. Of the twenty years I had spent ministering as pastor in my hometown of Eilenberg, 19 of them had been during wartime. And I was exhausted in every sense of the word.  The conflict between the armies of His Imperial Majesty and the armies of the Lutheran princes who opposed him had turned Germany into a hellish tromping ground for soldiers from all over Europe. And it had turned Eilenberg into a refuge for the countless families whose lives had been turned upside down by the chaos of civil war.

Becoming the pastor at Eilenberg had been a life-long dream of mine. This was my home. It was my greatest joy to become the shepherd of those who were so dear to me. But my ministry became something I had never anticipated. Instead of serving familiar friends and family, I had spent almost two decades caring for strangers, precious souls who had experienced unspeakable horrors, many now penniless, homeless, and friendless in this world. Eilenberg had been inundated with these refugees, sparking an economic crisis that the city’s leadership was constantly trying to manage.  Things hadn’t been helped by this year’s outbreak of the plague.  And that, no doubt, was the reason for the mayor’s letter I now held in my hands.

“I’m, alright, Johannes. Just tired, as you said,” I tried to say with a tone a reassurance. “Now quickly, off you go, sir. Peace be with you.”

“And with you, Pastor Martin.” Johannes looked at me sadly for a brief moment, and then turned and quietly left the room.

I sighed again as I turned the mayor’s letter over and broke the seal. In a few lines I grasped the gravity of the message. The mayor had been informed that the Swedish army was approaching Eilenberg. Sweden had intervened in our conflict on the side of the Lutheran states, but as so often was the case, sides meant nothing when money was in short order. The mayor had obtained intelligence that the army approaching was seeking tribute, something the city coffers could hardly bear to pay. The mayor was requesting that I be part of a delegation he was formulating to send the day after tomorrow to negotiate with the Swedes.

I set the letter on my desk and sank back into my chair, running my hand over my hoary head. I groaned inwardly with indignation. Who were these foreign mercenaries, to rob and pillage a city in territory they supposedly supported? Was it anything to them the severity of the situation for Eilenberg, or for the thousands of innocents who depended on us for their very survival? Was it anything to them that we were burying the plague’s victims as quickly as the war was sending them to us?

But my indignation quickly passed. What else could we do but try to persuade these soldiers to show mercy? We had no other options. And perhaps the miserable conditions of the town themselves would be enough proof to these Scandinavians that we weren’t bluffing. Yes, perhaps I could convince their general to walk the streets with me, to visit our burial grounds, to attend one of the 40 funerals I would conduct in the next few days, to understand that of any city in the Holy Roman Empire, Eilenberg was bereft of anything in the way of worldly goods.

“Dear God,” I uttered painfully, “help us.”

 It was hard for me to believe my prayer. Would God help us? And not just with this problem of payment to martial marauders. Would He care to help us with the plague? With the interminable war? With the vanishing food?  With my own family’s fight for survival?

I opened my eyes and stared sullenly at my desk.  After a moment or two of gloomy silence, I reached for my Bible from where I had set it down but an hour before upon my return. I had carried it today on my visitations, reading its comfort to the sick. I had preached its eternal truths at the gravesides of the day’s dozen casualties of the plague. Today, up until now, I had been reading these words for others. But now I read them for myself.

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea.”  I stopped, and pondered these words, living words from the forty-sixth Psalm.  A refuge was a place of safety in the midst of peril, I thought. It was not the absence of the peril, but a means for enduring it.  

“The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.” There it was again, refuge. I thought of how our walled city was a haven for so many . In the same way, I mused, God was the Haven for the weary, troubled soul, my soul, struggling with doubts, with fears, with grief. In the midst of my perils, He was my help.

“He maketh wars to cease…Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.”

I set my Bible down. “Lord,” I pleaded, “may it be so even today! As for tomorrow, may I be still and know, that whatever it may bring, you still are God and that one day you will be exalted in the earth. For now, I thank you that you are my refuge, and that despite all the ills around me,  your grace will sustain me in the work that you have called me to do, even in this great darkness.”

I sighed once again, this time, with some relief. I glanced at a stack of papers sitting on the corner of my desk. On the top was a single page with the beginnings of a hymn I had begun writing many months before. I had intended it for my children to sing at our supper table, but in the harried busyness of life, I had never quite finished it. “Now thank we all our God,” the first line began.

“Well, I believe the reply to the mayor may wait,” I said as I pulled the parchment from the stack and lay it in front of me. I took a quill from a small box, dipped it in the inkwell, and began editing the stanzas I’d written so many months before, while adding a new one.

“O may this bounteous God through all our life be near us,

With ever joyful hearts and blessed peace to cheer us;

And keep us in His grace, and guide us when perplexed;

And free us from all ills, in this world and the next!”

Setting the quill down, I smiled. Perhaps the Swedish general would like a copy of my new table prayer. “After all,” I said wryly, “a song is about as good a tribute as we can muster.” 

Martin Rinkart (1586-1649) served as the sole surviving pastor in the town of Eilenberg in Saxony, Germany during the Thirty Years War. He ministered to the thousands of refugees who came to Eilenberg, conducted countless funerals after the outbreak of the plague in 1637 (including his own wife’s), and negotiated with the Swedish Army on the city’s behalf in 1637 and 1639. He wrote the now famous Thanksgiving hymn, “Now Thank We All Our God”, around 1636. You can read more about Rinkart’s remarkable life and ministry here.

What to Do After Election Day

Two years ago I wrote an article on this blog entitled "After the Ballots Have Been Counted." It was my humble attempt to encourage Christians to thoughtfully prepare for the unknown outcome of a particularly momentous and tumultuous political contest.  

Now we’re on the eve of another especially significant Election Day and it’s difficult not to fret. Indeed, I’m gravely concerned about how our country will react tomorrow, no matter which party ends up controlling the House and the Senate. It’s very hard not to feel the heat of the political pot on the stove and wonder at what point will things boil over?

But part of my job as a Christian is to help turn down the heat, not increase it with anxious (or angry) predictions. The Bible tells me that the “fruit of righteousness is sown in peace by them who make peace.” (James 3:18) Now granted, part of the reason for the heat right now is because of the reaction of unrighteous people towards righteousness. And for that, I’m afraid the boiling water can’t be simmered. Even Jesus was demonized by unrighteous leaders for calling out their evil ways.

So no, we can’t stop sowing righteousness. But we can show the world how to sow that righteousness peacefully---just like Jesus did. Jesus didn’t just criticize the problems of the day; He lived the kingdom of God by bringing it to all He encountered (including those religious leaders like Nicodemus who had genuine openness to receive it). He loved his friends, His neighbors and His enemies. He engaged in conversations about the kingdom with those in the street as much as with those in the synagogue. 

Right now, probably the most significant thing we can do after Election Day is to show our communities what it means to be a Christian. What does it mean to be a Christian?  Check out Galatians 5:22-23, commonly known as the “Fruits of the Spirit”, for a good reminder. Then ask the Lord how you can be more loving, more joyful, more kind, etc. in how you interact with those around you. Oh, and by the way, that doesn’t get us out of calling out unrighteousness—after all, goodness is a fruit of the Spirit too. But it will help us engage the people in our lives in a way that shows them the fullness of the Gospel of the Christ we represent.  

With that said, here are a few bullet-point actions for you to consider implementing in the aftermath of this year’s mid-terms to help keep the political pot from boiling over:

• Thank God for the outcome of the election, even if you are unhappy about the results. Then commit to praying positively and regularly for each of your elected officials.

• Refrain from apocalyptic laments or disparaging gloats on social media about the election results. Commit to keeping political dialogue civil (either on social media or otherwise). And by the way, “civility” simply means being kind and polite. (Our first president had some rules about this topic that might be of some help).

• Extend good-will towards someone you know personally who voted differently from you.

• Prayerfully consider what you might do to be a help (no, really, I mean that) to your local government officials. Ask them what needs in your community you (or your church) could be involved in helping meet.

• Look for opportunities during the holidays to participate in activities that will put you in contact with people from your community, regardless of their political affiliation. We need reminders that people are people, and far more than the sum of their party affiliation. You may be surprised how much you might have in common.

Meantime, please make sure you get to the polls tomorrow and VOTE! It’s a privilege that we cannot afford NOT to use. 

The Reason for Remembering

Last week, I had the delightful privilege of touring the United Sates Capitol. It was my third visit, and each time I spend inside its ornate walls I am inspired to learn more about our American heritage. The Capitol is an architectural encyclopedia of our history, a treasure trove of America’s most precious jewels.  Its grandiose paintings depict our greatest epochs. Its dignified statues bring our greatest heroes to life. And its intricate inscriptions memorialize the best of our ideals. In short, the Capitol is a monument, a memorial for all we have been, so that the living who walk its halls won’t forget from where they’ve come.

But that is not all. To not forget something is only half the reason for remembering. If those who daily pass by those grandiose paintings, dignified statutes, and intricate inscriptions simply acknowledge their existence, fondly saying, “Isn’t that magnificent!” then the point of them is lost. For what use is it to see that magnificent painting of the Signing of the Declaration of Independence unless it inspires the observer with new fervor to advance the ideas written in that document? What good does it do to simply see the faces of George Washington, James Garfield, or Dwight Eisenhower and say “Ah yes, they were great men” unless the observer seeks to follow in those great men’s footsteps? When we see Patrick Henry’s words, “I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided and that is the lamp of experience” above the doorway of room H120, do we agree with him? Do we draw from the experiences of our forefathers in shaping the course our nation now takes?

Today is another kind of memorial. It is a day set aside to pay tribute, as President Lincoln said at Gettysburg, to our “honored dead.” Throughout the land today, in cemeteries and in solemn ceremonies, the fallen men and women of our armed forces will be remembered. And so they should be, indeed they must be.

But I wonder. Just as with our Capitol. Remembering isn’t enough. There must be a reason for the remembering. There is no real honoring of our noble heroes if we do not continue the fight for which they laid down their lives. And what is that fight? I’ll let President Lincoln remind us:

It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here, have, thus far, so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

The reason for remembering is to inspire us to preserve and advance the freedom we have been given. Otherwise, our Memorial Day tributes are meaningless. Something tells me that those we honor wouldn’t want it that way.

In the Words of the President

In case you or your calendar publisher missed it, today is Presidents’ Day.  And in case you were wondering “what’s that all about?” I thought this little snippet from the History Channel’s website was helpful:

Presidents’ Day is an American holiday celebrated on the third Monday in February. Originally established in 1885 in recognition of President George Washington, it is still officially called “Washington’s Birthday” by the federal government. Traditionally celebrated on February 22—Washington’s actual day of birth—the holiday became popularly known as Presidents’ Day after it was moved as part of 1971’s Uniform Monday Holiday Act, an attempt to create more three-day weekends for the nation’s workers. While several states still have individual holidays honoring the birthdays of Washington, Abraham Lincoln and other figures, Presidents’ Day is now popularly viewed as a day to celebrate all U.S. presidents past and present.

No matter what your party affiliation, every American ought to be able to concede that there isn’t a more stressful job than the presidency of the United States. As comedian Brian Regan has put it, there’s nothing like being awakened every morning to: “Problems. All kinds of problems!” And while they are often ambitious folk, these remarkable individuals give up 4 years (maybe 8, or even 12 if you’re FDR) of their lives (in the case of 4, literally), their privacy, and their public reputations to do their very best in leading our country. A lonely post in the best of times, few leave office without the indicators of the wear and tear the intensity of the presidency leaves.  Each one has left a unique legacy, a mark on American history. And each one deserves the gratitude and respect of the American people.

With that in mind, I’m proud to present to you ABB’s second “In the Words of the President” quiz! Below are ten quotations from our presidents, with three choices as to which president the quote originated from. Take a few minutes to take the quiz (without using Google for a reference!) and submit your answers via the comment section by March 5. The reader who gets the most questions correct will receive an inspiring book from ABB! The Printer will have one more question in store in case of a tie.

And so, without further adieu, I give you the Presidents of the United States of America, in their own words!

1)“No People can be bound to acknowledge and adore the invisible hand, which conducts the Affairs of men more than the People of the United States. Every step, by which they have advanced to the character of an independent nation, seems to have been distinguished by some token of providential agency.”

 Abraham Lincoln

 John Quincy Adams

 George Washington

2)“[A] wise and frugal Government, which shall restrain men from injuring one another, shall leave them otherwise free to regulate their own pursuits of industry and improvement, and shall not take from the mouth of labor the bread it has earned. This is the sum of good government…”

Franklin Delano Roosevelt

Thomas Jefferson

Martin Van Buren

3) “I pity the creature who doesn’t work, at whichever end of the social scale he may regard himself as being. The law of worthy work well done is the law of successful American life.”

Theodore Roosevelt

William Jefferson Clinton

Franklin Pierce

4) “Our government was made by patriotic, unselfish, sominded men for the control or protection of a patriotic, unselfish and sober-minded people. It is suited to such a people; but for those who are selfish, corrupt and unpatriotic it is the worst government on earth.”

John F. Kennedy

Grover Cleveland     

Donald Trump

     

5) “American citizenship is a high estate. He who holds it is the peer of kings. It has been secured by untold toil and effort. It will be maintained by no other method. It demands the best that men and women have to give. But it likewise awards to its partakers the best that there is on earth.”

Calvin Coolidge

Andrew Jackson

Chester Alan Arthur

6) “[T]he same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe—the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state, but from the hand of God.”

Richard Nixon

John F. Kennedy 

Dwight Eisenhower

7) “It remains for the guardians of the public welfare to persevere in that justice and good will toward other nations which invite a return of these sentiments toward the United States; to cherish institutions which guarantee their safety and their liberties, civil and religious; and to combine with a liberal system of foreign commerce an improvement of the national advantages and a protection and extension of the independent resources of our highly favored and happy country.”

John Tyler

James Madison

William Taft

 8) “[I]t is the duty of nations as well as of men to own their dependence upon the overruling power of God, to confess their sins and transgressions in humble sorrow, yet with assured hope that genuine repentance will lead to mercy and pardon, and to recognize the sublime truth, announced in the Holy Scriptures and proven by all history, that those nations only are blessed who God is the Lord.”

Abraham Lincoln

James Monroe

 Franklin Delano Roosevelt

9) “[Fatherhood is] giving one’s all, from the break of day to its end, on the job, in the house, but most of all in the heart.”

Barrack Obama

Ronald Reagan

Lyndon Johnson

10) “There is but one just use of power, and it is to serve people. Help us to remember it, Lord.”

John Adams

George H.W. Bush

Ulysses  Grant

Speaking the Mind of Christ

“What’s the big deal?”

“Can’t you just let this go?”

“Why can’t you  leave well enough alone?”

Rachael Denhollander probably heard all of those questions—a lot. Denhollander has lately become a genuine hero for having the courage and stamina to speak the truth about the sexual abuse she and a host of other young women suffered at the hands of Olympic physician Larry Nassar. A previous Olympic gymnast, and now a mother of three, as well as an attorney, Denhollander is properly receiving kudos for having the hutzpah to shine light on the corruption in the USA Gymnastics organization and at Michigan State University.

Dehollander joins a great company of Christians through the ages who have taken flak for “making a stink” over what their societies deemed acceptable reality. “Why can’t you just sacrifice to the Emperor and pray to Jesus?” the Romans asked first century believers. “Why do you have to be so vocal about your criticisms of the Church?” reformers like John Wycliffe and Martin Luther were asked. “Why can’t you forget about the slave trade, and support the greater good of your country?” heard abolitionists like William Wilberforce. “Can’t you just let slavery die a natural death?” said the moderates to the voices of American abolition. “What are the Jews to us?” said most of the German Church to Christians like Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

Certainly Christians aren’t the only ones to take on the social injustices of the day, but that we do is because of who we are. In a recent interview with Christianity Today, Denhollander explained how her faith motivated her actions: “In terms of how my faith played a part in making that decision [to go public with her own experience], God is the God of justice, these things are evil, and it is biblical, right, and godly to pursue justice. I had to make a decision to do what was right no matter what the cost was.”

And a cost there was. In addition to the opposition she faced from USA Gymnastics and MSU, she also had to grapple with criticism from an unlikely source: her own church. Denhollander explained that before she went public with the Nassar story, she had already experienced opposition from other Christians because of her advocacy for sexual abuse victims within a particular sector of the evangelical church. “When I did come forward as an abuse victim, this part of my past was wielded like a weapon by some of the elders to further discredit my concern, essentially saying that I was imposing my own perspective or that my judgment was too clouded. One of them accused me of sitting around reading angry blog posts all day, which is not the way I do research. That’s never been the way I do research. But my status as a victim was used against my advocacy.”

That Denhollander experienced that type of hostility from fellow believers is a grave reminder that reluctance to admit the truth, and even flat-out resistance to it, is the norm. Let’s not forget that Jesus Himself faced the stoutest opposition from the leaders of His faith community.

So what does any of this have to do with “speaking the mind of Christ?” I Corinthians 2:14-16 tells us that those who are not believers do not have the capacity to discern things from a spiritual vantage point. In contrast, believers have been given that ability because of the Holy Spirit speaking to us through the Word of God.  As redeemed people, we have been given “the mind of Christ” and we evaluate everything from Christ’s viewpoint. That means seeing the difference between good and evil, light and darkness, right and wrong. And it also means seeing things in their totality and extending God’s grace and forgiveness, even while declaring the truth, as Denhollander did to Larry Nasser.

But we’re also warned in that passage that those of us who are “spiritual,” (i.e. seeing things from Christ’s perspective) will never be “rightly judged” by those who are seeing things from a “natural” perspective. We’ll be misunderstood, mocked, even martyred for speaking the mind of Christ to our culture. Even family and friends may question our judgement or misunderstand our motives. But it’s because we’ve been given this special privilege that we speak anyway—because if we don’t, who will?

“Obedience [to Jesus Christ],” says Denhollander, “means that you pursue justice and you stand up for the oppressed and you stand up for the victimized…It means that you will have to speak out against your own community. It will cost to stand up for the oppressed, and it should. If we’re not speaking out when it costs, then it doesn’t matter to us enough.”