Enthusiasm in Worship

 

Habakkuk 2:20 King James Version

²⁰ The Lord is in his holy temple: let all the earth keep silence before him.

 

The words of this text were stretched in a banner across the front of our church when I was a kid. They were read from the pulpit, and we were urged to exercise reverence before the Lord. Our songs were sung in subdued voices. Only very seldom did someone in the congregation venture a softly spoken, heart-felt “Amen!” There was definitely no running in the sanctuary. The robed choir would sacredly chant these words as they filed somberly in and took their places on the platform.

My grandfather was hard of hearing, so our family always sat on the right-side, front pew. Since Dad was an honored member of the church, his family was expected to behave with perfect decorum. Mom was very cognizant of this expectation and did her very best to make the family live up to the ideal. Yes, we respected the fear of the Lord—and of the razor strap behind the bathroom door at home.

Our salvation was received with solemn acceptance under the realization that it could be withdrawn on the slightest infraction. We trembled lest there be a hidden sin lurking in our past that might be revealed on the day of judgement, and we would be cast into the outer darkness, where all unfortunates cringed weeping, wailing, and gnashing their teeth.

We read, but rejected and ignored, such verses as “You will take up your tambourines and dance joyfully!”[1]  “Be glad in the Lord, and rejoice, ye righteous: and shout for joy, all ye that are upright in heart.”[2] “Let them praise his name in the dance: let them sing praises unto him with the timbrel and harp.”[3] “Clap your hands for joy, all peoples! Praise God with loud songs!”[4]   

A visiting week of prayer pastor taught us to sing the following with gusto (* indicates repeat three times):

 

I've got a home in Glory land that (clap) outshines the sun, *
Way beyond the blue.

Do Lord, oh, do Lord, oh, do remember me, *
Way beyond the blue.

 

I took Jesus as my Savior, (clap) you take him too, *
Way beyond the blue.

Do Lord, oh, do Lord, oh, do remember me, *
Way beyond the blue.

 

The next year the song was banned because it had a beat to it, and this caused the youth to move to the music. God forbid!

Was it always this way? “I saw,” wrote Ellen White in 1850, that “singing to the glory of God often drove the enemy, and shouting would beat him back and give us the victory. I saw there was too little glorifying God in Israel and too little childlike simplicity.”[5] In Paris, Maine, in 1850, Ellen White noted: “Sunday the power of God came upon us like a mighty rushing wind. All arose upon their feet and praised God with a loud voice; it was something as it was when the foundation of the house of God was laid. The voice of weeping could not be told from the voice of shouting. It was a triumphant time; all were strengthened and refreshed. I never witnessed such a powerful time before.”[6] Ron Graybill noted these and many more instances in his article “Enthusiasm in Early Adventist Worship” in the October 1991 issue of “Ministry Magazine.”[7]

John the revelator reported on Christ’s reaction to lukewarm religion: “Because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I am going to spit you out of my mouth!”[8]

Dear Lord, build a fire under us and send us forth with an enthusiasm that will ignite the earth!

 

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[1] Jeremiah 31:4 GNT

[2] Psalm 32: 11 KJV

[3] Psalm 149:3 KJV

[4] Psalm 47:1 GNT

[5] Ellen G. White to Arabella Hastings, Aug. 4,
1850 (letter 8, 1850).

[6] Ellen G. White to The Church in Brother
Hastings' House, Nov. 7, 1850 (letter 28, 1850)

[7] https://www.ministrymagazine.org/archive/1991/10/enthusiasm-in-early-adventist-worship

[8] Revelation 3:16 GNT

Toy Trains

 

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Ezekiel 37:5 Good News Translation

⁵ Tell them that I, the Sovereign Lord, am saying to them: I am going to put breath into you and bring you back to life.

 

 

The first few thoughts that flowed through my waking brain this morning were the words of the last verse of Amazing Grace. As I remember it, it goes--

When we’ve been there ten thousand years
            Bright shining as the sun,
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise,
            Than when we first begun.

 The vision of Revelation of the 24 elders sitting in a circle around God’s throne and continually throwing themselves face down on the ground and praising Him in vivid poetry flashed through my mind. I confess to not being inspired to an eternity of that nature. But then other things raced through my mind.

I have always been intrigued by languages. I listened to a series of 34 lectures by a Great Courses professor entitled Language Families of the World. He described the various classes of some 7,000 languages spoken in the world today and their unbelievably different ways of expressing ordinary thoughts. I’ve dabbled in over 10 of them. I would love to spend time exploring them all. The words of my thesis advisor came to mind, “I only have one life to live!”

As I tackled graduate mathematics, I found myself at the bottom of a vast quantity of knowledge surrounding me in every direction. I recognized that I had to forge my way through this in one direction until I reached its fringe. Then I pushed outwards and added a new bubble to it. What this did was open an even more vast array of unknowns to explore. I then had even more questions I wished to answer. The more we know, the more we realize how much more there is to discover. My curiosity is endless.

As a child I longed to have an electric train. We were much too poor to even consider buying one. I discovered a little shop in Bulawayo that had a delightful array of electric trains. I could stand there for hours and imagine what I could do with them. On one of our trips, Sylvia and I discovered a farm in southern Wisconsin where a farmer had a whole barn filled with trains and tracks. His wife showed us around, ran a bunch of the trains for us. When she left, she turned the power off, and all the trains stopped and sat there, dead, until she would provide them power again.

Life is like that barn of trains. The huge array of life thrives around the world. All of it depends on external power. When that “power” is cut off, life ceases. Everything lies there in obvious readiness to spring into action. Life is like that barn, and in some ways, God is like that woman in the barn. As long as God provides that elusive spark of life, it roars on; otherwise, nothing—desolation. We need the Sovereign Lord to put breath back into the dead bones.

Lord, thank You for Your constant supply of breath and life and the glorious promise it holds for our future.

 

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[1] https://www.scenicpathways.com/toy-train-barn-argyle-wisconsin/

[2] https://www.travelwisconsin.com/museums-history/toy-train-barn-198829

Woman Snake Enmity

 

 

 

Genesis 3:15

Good News Translation

[God said to the snake] ¹⁵ I will make you and the woman hate each other; her offspring and yours will always be enemies. Her offspring will crush your head, and you will bite her offspring's heel.”

 

From across the street, Shirley came breathlessly into our house yesterday. I was in my office in the back of the house. All I could hear was impassioned conversation between Shirley and Sylvia. Finally, curious, I walked into the front room. Shirley described how her grown son, Ivan, who was on his way out the door, said: “Be careful when you walk out into the backyard. There’s a rattlesnake out there.”

“Well, aren’t you going to do something?” she asked in half panic.

“Nah,” He drawled, “Just be careful where you walk,” and he was out the door.

Shirley told me she placed a tub over the snake and came over to our house. Her breath was short, and her whole demeanor radiated distress!

Rattlesnakes live in the hills around our neighborhood. Katie and I find them occasionally. I have taught her to beware of them and give them wide berth. She can sense a bit of alarm and warning in my demeanor when I see the snake. I do fear that she will try and protect me by rushing in and attacking the snake—which would be a fatal move on her part. So far, she has yielded to my commands. I don’t kill the snakes in the hills—I feel that they serve a purpose in keeping the vermin down. And I sense that I am in their territory. But when they come into our area, they are out of line. I have been instrumental in getting those snakes killed. All my neighbors concur with this decision.

“Is it in the open?” I knew what I had to do.

“It’s under the tub! Oh. I’m scared!” she shivered, “What can we do?”

“Give me a minute!” and I walked towards the back door.

“What are you going to do?” she was desperate and figured I was doing like Ivan and leaving her to it.

“I’m going to fetch a spade,” I said matter-of-factly.

“He’s going to kill the snake!” Sylvia had no doubts. She has lived with me long enough to understand me.

Shirley led me around to the back of her house. There I saw a little red plastic tub lying upside down in the mowed grass. I looked at Shirley, “You’re brave to have done that! Good for you!”

I stuck the blade of the spade under the edge of the tub and flipped it. A large western red diamondback rattlesnake immediately began to take up attack mode. The first thing I noticed was that it had no rattles. The snake moved rapidly, and my first strike hit it about a foot down from its head, breaking its back. It’s wide-open mouth, fangs protruding, struck the spade. My second strike severed the head from the body, leaving it hanging by only a bit of skin.

“Wow! You’re so brave,” Shirley cooed, “Now what are we going to do?”

“Do you have a bag?”

She brought a plastic garbage bag stuck in a large paper bag and stuck it in a cardboard box. She placed this on the ground nearby and made sure the garbage bag was wide open. I picked up the snake by its rattle less tail and dropped it into the bag, tied it shut, and placed it in her garbage bin. I’ve heard that in some parts of the U.S., rattlesnakes are evolving into rattle less rattlesnakes. This has me concerned because rattlesnakes have always warned those who approach of their presence by their rattles. If that happens around here, it will make hiking in the desert more dangerous.

Satan, the old serpent, has been attempting to camouflage his presence, even getting the more gullible to deny his very existence. In this way they are not prepared for his attacks.

Preserve us, Lord, from the devil and save us from sin, so we will be ready for Your soon return.

 

 

Feet That Bring Good Tidings

 

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Nahum 1:15 King James Version

¹⁵ Behold upon the mountains the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace!

 

We have had well over a week of three-digit temperatures (over 40ºC). At night it seldom gets down to 80º (27ºC). When it does, I can consider turning on the whole-house fan to bring fresh, cool air into the house. However, lately it has been too hot even at 4 o’clock in the morning.

The other morning, I went into the back yard. Hundreds of little clouds curdled the sky. It indicated another hot day, but right then it was pleasantly warm. Early dawn turned the hills and trees around me into dark silhouettes. The clouds reflected the city lights and were almost glowing. I watched, enchanted, to see if I could make out a star in the dark lacey background. Nothing!

After five minutes or so, I caught the faint glitter of a star. The star watcher in me chided me for not bring my phone with its Sky Map App. It would have suggested which star I was seeing. The star played hide-and-seek amongst the cloud-curdled sky. Then a second star joined the first one in a dance among the clouds. With patience I watched the dance until two or more stars joined in.

Clearly what I was seeing was the constellation of Orion. Adventists have long taught that Christ’s return would come through the “open space” in Orion.

Standing there in the pleasant early morning stillness, I sensed the feet of him who was bringing good tidings of peace. This was a far cry from the morning news of war, rampant crime, dirty politics, human trafficking, and runaway inflation.

Lord, we eagerly await your soon return!

 

 

[1] https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/51915359715_47f8ed32dd_b.jpg

Midnight Answer

 

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Psalm 84:12 Contemporary English Version

¹² Lord God All-Powerful, you bless everyone, who trusts you.

 

Two Canadian students, Sarah and Nolan, told me they wanted to write a historical novel about my mother. Intrigued, I consulted with them over a period of three months or so last year. This summer when Sylvia and I drove east on vacation, I decided I’d like to meet them while we were out there. They both seemed excited by the prospect. While back in Michigan, I tried to set up a time to see them. Over a period of a week or more, I got more and more frustrated because I couldn’t work something out for the convenience of the three of us. I found it impossible to get hold of Nolan by phone. I was discouraged beyond measure.

On Saturday evening, June 22, we were at Sylvia’s cousin’s home in Oswego, Illinois. After walking their dog Munchkin around the block, we retired to our room. We chatted about what we should do next, wondering seriously if the Lord didn’t want us to see them and decided to lay out a fleece. At 8:12 p.m. CDT, I sent Nolan a text: “Nolan, as you know we are planning to be in Canada soon, and we would love to see you. Please call me on WhatsApp or regular cell phone or text me so we can finish laying our plans.”

We decided that if he didn’t call or text, we would know the Lord didn’t want us to stop and see them. We went to bed and to sleep. At 12:45 a.m. CDT, my phone jarred me awake. It was Nolan. We chatted for 18 minutes. During the conversation I asked him to arrange for a meeting with him and Sarah, together or separately. I would arrange my trip to be there at the time or times he arranged.

Relief and peace flooded me. I lay back on the bed and laughed for the next 20 minutes while Sylvia slept the sleep of the just. My mind went through the experience of Abraham and Sarah, when they laughed at the news that they were going to have a baby boy—Abraham 100 years old and Sarah 90! I laughed because of God, who doesn’t sleep, arranged the call so quickly and in the middle of the night.

 

Remember the events? In Genesis 17 God tells Abram he is going to have a son through Sarai and changes both of their names. “Abraham bowed with his face to the ground and thought, ‘I am almost 100 years old. How can I become a father? And Sarah is 90. How can she have a child?’ So he started laughing” (Genesis 17:17 GNT).

Then in Genesis 18, God visits Abraham’s camp on His way to Sodom, and again He announces that the couple will have a son. Sarah is inside the tent listening to the conversation. “So, Sarah laughed to herself and said, ‘Now that I am old and worn out, can I still enjoy sex? And besides, my husband is old too.’

“Then the Lord asked Abraham, ‘Why did Sarah laugh and say, “Can I really have a child when I am so old?”’…

“Because Sarah was afraid, she denied it. ‘I didn't laugh,’ she said.

“‘Yes, you did,’ He replied. ‘You laughed.’”  (Genesis 18: 12-15 GNT)

The encounter impressed them so much they named their son Isaac, which is Hebrew for “He will laugh!”

 

We all agreed to meet at the St. Thomas SDA Church On June 29, 2024. This was also the church’s 125^th anniversary celebration, so it was crowded. We not only had the privilege of meeting Nolan, a third-year student at university, and his family—parents, and sister—but also Sarah and family—parents, two sisters and four brothers. Sarah narrated a video history of the St. Thomas Church. We gained a rich blessing from the faith of both families. Now we look forward to reading their book.

 

Dear Lord, thank You for Your personal intervention in our affairs when we need Your wisdom!

 

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[1] https://www.facebook.com/stthomassda/

Why Coso Junction Rest Area?

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Proverbs 3:6 King James Version

⁶ In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

 

We had planned to take a trip to the north during this month of August. Sylvia has a brother who lives in Washington, and I have three cousins there. Besides that, we have a number of relatives and friends along the way. We laid out an itinerary and phoned the people we planned to visit. Remarkably, they were all going to be home and welcomed us to stop with them.

We debated whether to take our Ford F150 pickup or our Kia Forte sedan. Sylvia was anxious to take the car—it is very comfortable and interfaces well with our phones, and gas mileage is at least a factor of two better than the pickup. I love the car, but for traveling purposes I love the F150. We have a cap on the back and a comfortable bed that is always ready for us to just climb into. We can park it anywhere, and that becomes our home! One night a couple weeks ago, in our Forte, we pushed the seats back and stretched out to see if we could sleep in the Forte. Sylvia did pretty well; I finally drifted off to sleep about 2:00 a.m. The Forte trunk size is ample so that we don’t need to place any of our luggage on the back seat. That way we could stretch out the front seats without having to find room for the baggage behind them. We agreed to take the Forte.

When I rolled out of bed Monday morning, August 5, the day of our planned departure, I said to the Lord, “You know that I haven’t really talked to You about this trip. Bless us on the highway! Speak through us as we talk with our loved ones in route. May we be a blessing to them.” Then I thought a bit and prayed further, “If You want us to not take this trip, let us know. If you want us to see other people on the trip that I don’t have on our itinerary, we’ll gladly adjust our itinerary.” This increased my confidence as we packed the car, dropped off Katie with our son Fred and his wife Uni and their big dog Oso, and headed north.

The day was hot, about 105º F (40º C), as we filled up with gas and headed up the Cajon Pass and then north on US 395—dubbed locally as the Suicide Highway. By the time we reached the summit of the pass, the temperature had also risen to 114º F (45º C). The Forte has a much better A/C than the F150, and it ate up the miles while keeping us in comfort. Well past the suicide part of the highway, we came to the Coso Junction Rest Area. We stopped for the bathrooms. We usually walk around the rest areas to get a bit of exercise but didn’t here; it was still 111º. We had pulled out our map and were examining it when my phone rang.

 It was my ENT specialist, Dr de Jager: “I’ve just gotten one of your lab reports. You’ve got Staphylococcus Aureus. It has probably coupled with your MRSA. You need to get to the emergency room.”

“I’m 168 miles (270 km) away from home in the middle of the Mojave Desert.” As I said it, I remembered the prayer of the morning.

“Well, I feel that it is very important that you get attention right away. Find a hospital or urgent care nearby and go to the ER.”

Almost the closest was Riverside Community Hospital at home. If I was going to be hospitalized, I wanted it to be near home. It was 5:00 p.m. We turned around and headed home. I was exhausted and asked Sylvia to drive for a while. Sensing the urgency, she headed down the road at break neck speed. After about 50 miles of that, I traded places with her and headed home as though we were just traveling normally. It was 9:00 p.m. when we pulled into the hospital, and they threatened to admit me. Around 2:00 a.m. they gave me a script and told me to go home.

The net result is that we have postponed our trip north—indefinitely. By the next day I was feeling significantly worse and am happy that the Lord indicated what He wanted us to do.

Thank You, Lord, for taking an active part in my life. Now I pray that You will help me lick this disease.

 

 

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[1] At Coso Junction CA. The Sierra Nevada Mountains on the left have Mt. Whitney, Highest point in the lower 48 states; https://igx.4sqi.net/img/general/600x600/2226492_O7xexnk_dUZWCf9iIyKR_BeU1OLTSmFE3gJkUPpMQmM.jpg

Our Father in Heaven

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Matthew 6:9 Common English Bible

⁹ Pray like this: Our Father who is in heaven, uphold the holiness of your name.

 

Our church uses a liturgical style worship in its 9:00 service, following loosely the Revised Common Lectionary. The actual liturgies are written locally by people who gently try to correct some of the perceived Adventist departures from common modern norms. For example, the Adventist church has prayed the Lord’s Prayer publicly in unison for a long time—certainly as long as I can remember. It has always used the words found in the King Jame version of Matthew 6: 9-13

“Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. …”

At one point I learned that in twentieth century English the word “which” is usually used for animals and inanimate objects and “who” is used for persons, so I unilaterally switched to “who” when I pray the Lord’s Prayer, but I never promoted it generally:

“Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. …”

But then as “thee” and “thou” fell into disuse, the NKJV has it as

“Our Father in heaven, Hallowed be Your name. …”

However, in our liturgical service, I don’t remember adopting that version. In our service our pastors tried to switch everything possible to gender neutral. Longstanding terms for God such as “Lord” and “King” were dropped and replaced by the gender-neutral term “God”. In fact, masculine pronouns like “He,” and “Him” were replaced by never using a pronoun for God, even though the English sounds uncomfortable. There were a number of persons who tried using “She” and “Her” on an equal basis with “He” and “Him.” But that never caught on.

Several people expressed strong resistance to the use of “Father.” Some went so far as to indicate that they had experienced a terrible father who abused them continuously while they were growing up. They stated categorically that they would not be a Christian if they had to use “Father” when referring to God. All agreed that they couldn’t use “parent:” it just didn’t cut it.

After a protracted church board meeting at which I was not present, our liturgy appeared with the first part of the Lord’s Prayer:

“Our holy Guardian God, hallowed be Your name. …”

Using “Guardian” instead of “Father” really sounds awful to me. I get mental images of the whole foster parenting situation where guardians have abused their foster children. I also get images of a prison situation where prisoners are guarded in a cruel and heartless manner. It totally erases the loving care that many fathers have had for their children—some notable exceptions are inevitable in a sinful world. However, Jesus chose to use “Father” in His prayer and throughout His ministry. He was more aware of men who have abused their fatherly position than we are; yet He used “Father” consistently. 

I mentioned my feelings about “Father,” to both our head pastor and the current writer of the liturgies. I was politely ignored and dismissed. When I am liturgist, I consistently replace “Guardian” with the word “Gracious”. It’s not that my choice is superior to theirs: it isn’t. It just relieves me from using the offending term without disrupting the service. No one has mentioned noticing it so far.

Heavenly Father, thank You for ignoring our petty feelings and foibles and exercising true fatherly love and grace in Your dealings with us. May Your kingdom come soon.

 

 

 

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[1] https://www.quotationof.com/heavenly-father.html