Day-to-Day Normalness of Life

By David Horn, ThD
Director, The Ockenga Institute

Everything changed. In little more than a month on that barren, floating shoal, their perspective on their lives was so radically altered. What they valued most in their lives up to that point--the tiniest pleasures that were their largest preoccupations, thought lives filled with what they considered “normal” things--all so quickly and unalterably became of so little consequence. In a relative moment in time, the “stuff” of their lives became the basic, unadorned preoccupations of survival. So little mattered of their old lives; so much rested on a new point of view.

If you haven’t read Alfred Lansing’s gripping story of Sir Ernest Shackelton’s ill-fated 1914 expedition to Antartica, I highly recommend it. It is a survival story of 29 men set adrift for five months on ice packs after their ship was crushed by ice, only to then suffer through a 1,000 mile voyage in an open boat across the stormiest ocean on the globe. It is a magnificent picture of persons pulled away from everyday normal life and forced to live and think in radically different ways.

Short of subjecting ourselves artificially to some form of fringe experience, I wonder what it takes for us to break through the day-to-day “normalness” of our lives? How do we who seek to bring freshness and new perspective to those to whom we minister keep our own lives fresh? How do the things that really matter from God’s perspective become our common, consuming passions?

I certainly don’t claim to know the answer to these questions, but if Shackelton’s story is of any help, it is that none of these men would have changed on their own. To a man, all of them were relatively comfortable with the make-up of their own lives. It was only as they were forced to change that they did change.

Certainly this is what is behind the joy we are all called to consider in the first chapter of the book of James. God makes trials and temptations part of the warp-and-wolf of our lives because He knows that we don’t have it in us to change on our own. Our faith grows, not from within, but from without as God works in and through the circumstances of our lives.

Work and Pray

By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling Charlotte campus

“. . . work out your salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure.” (NASB Php 2:12b–13)

Does having a business plan, using marketing strategies, or taking lessons on how to raise funds for a mission on ministry mean that we are not living in faith and trusting God? Several times in the last month, I have heard Christians indirectly talking about this question. I know people who land on both the positive and the negative side of the answer to this question. A new missionary wants to practice his “spiel” on me to see how it flows and if it will be effective in getting financial commitments. We have a discussion among faculty, and one faculty member asserts that marketing strategies demonstrate a lack of faith that we are engaged in God’s ministry and that he will provide. What are we to believe about this?

When I was a brand-new Christian, before I had read this passage in Philippians, my spiritual mentor encouraged me to “work as if everything depended on me and pray as if everything depended on God.” When I read Philippians, I had an aha! moment. I can work as if everything depended on me because God is working in me, both giving me the desire to fulfill his will and enabling me to do the work to accomplish his good pleasure.

So many times, Christians argue about whether the ultimate is one thing or another (for example, God’s sovereignty versus human responsibility, or here, works versus faith). When I read scripture, it becomes clear to me why it’s so difficult for us to reduce it to one ultimate thing. It is because the Bible teaches both. God is sovereign and we are responsible. Our salvation is by faith and we must do works as evidence of and response to that faith and salvation provided by God. We must resist the temptation to seek a single ultimate, bottom line assertion.

This verse is a great comfort to me because it assures me that I can step out in faith and use all of the gifts, resources, skills, and education that God has given me to plan, strategize, and execute these plans and strategies, knowing that it is a God at work in me, giving me these gifts, resources, skills, and education so that I may follow the desires he has implanted in me to accomplish his good pleasure. Of course, one of the gifts we must always exercise is discernment. I believe God guides us into what he would have us do, but also when and how and with whom. But as I plan and move forward, I pray and I trust God that I am moving forward in his plan.

When Dr. Sid Bradley, former dean at Charlotte and founder of the counseling program of which I’m the director, talked about utilizing psychology as a Christian counselor, he talked about the Exodus, and how the Israelites when they left Egypt, at God’s command, “plundered the Egyptians.” When we learn strategies and approaches from the world (compatible with biblical principles of living), we are plundering the Egyptians. We are taking the gold, silver, and precious jewels of the world and utilizing them for Kingdom work. So may I also encourage you to “work is if everything depends on you and pray as if everything depends on God.”

Pulling a Sting

By David Horn, ThD
Director, The Ockenga Institute

When he said it, not many of us really thought that much about it at first. In fact, it sounded a bit odd. We were all sitting around the Ockenga conference table—the thirteen of us as we do every month at our Pastors Roundtable—and one of our group told us very innocently that the thing that finally was bringing his congregation back to life was his fledgling little Junior High ministry.

This pastor had been racking his brain for years, trying to motivate his church toward some sense of vitality. He had given his congregation the big vision talk, followed quickly by the even bigger envisioning process, leading to the development of a vision statement. He had read all of the books. He had preached all the sermons about perishing without a vision. Nothing seemed to pry his congregation from the grips of years of lethargy. Nothing…nothing seemed to be working.

And then, out of no where, with hardly a strategy in mind and certainly beyond the scope of his own best intentions, the right volunteer couples from his little church in Maine, with the right giftedness and sincerity in their hearts, connected with the right junior high students. And it was this that brought new life as families began to be attracted to his little church. Broadsided with the simple and unintended! Imagine that; the life and vitality of a church resting on the narrow shoulders and low riding jeans of a group of adolescents. The church took off.

In subsequent conversations with this and other Pastor Roundtable groups, similar stories began to surface. In another of our New England churches whose pastor had a cup of coffee on a pro sports team, the church’s sports ministry to the community became the place of new growth and excitement for the congregation. For another pastor, it was their children’s ministry. Imagine a church whose annual summer focus on Vacation Bible School became the spark that has brought genuine excitement to the entire congregation the year round.

I wonder sometimes if we miss the forest through the trees for those of us who are committed to breathing new life into our places of ministry. With our best intentions in tow, we place five thousand pounds of vision and strategy down on a five hundred pound church. It is utterly crushing.

I admit it. I have done the same thing periodically when asked to do church consulting. Frankly, it is not that difficult to diagnose the problems within most churches. The real difficulty lies in churches having the resources and the will to respond to the solutions offered. The economics of the situation work like this: The smaller the church, the bigger the problems to be solved. But, alas, the smaller the church, the less resources there are to respond effectively to proposed solutions. The solutions sometimes almost become more onerous than the problems.

To be considered healthy, why must every church have a thriving small group ministry and thriving youth ministry and thriving evangelism ministry and thriving hospitality ministry and a thriving community outreach ministry and so on…? Rather, what if we looked at our churches more organically than systematically? It takes some investigative work, but where is the place—sometimes ever so small—of vitality in your church? Where is there evidence that God is working, and how can we come along side of that place(s) where He has decided to work uniquely in your setting? Where is the thin thread in your church that, if pulled, could unravel into whole new possibilities for your church?

I am convinced that every church has these areas, sometimes in the most surprising of places. As one pastor of a church that is filled with the currently perceived deadly demographic of elderly people told me the other day, the point of excitement currently in his church is a small group of his elderly couples that have found new excitement in their faith. The fragrance of their newfound excitement has wafted across the rest of the church. Go figure, old people and junior high kids: places where God is doing His best work in His church. There must be a God.

Not for God’s Secrets

By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling Charlotte campus

I was reading along in my Bible recently, and came across this verse:

“The Lord our God has secrets known to no one. We are not accountable for them, but we and our children are accountable forever for all that he has revealed to us, so that we may obey all the terms of these instructions.” (Deut 29:29)

It is a part of Moses’ final words to the people of Israel before he dies and they enter the Promised Land. It is a part of his final word reinforcing both the promises and the curses of the covenant God made with the people of Israel.

I have been thinking about this verse ever since I came across it. How cool is it that God does not require us to be responsible for everything! He has required only the things he has told us about! When I first read this verse, I was thinking about the questions that always come to mind in the face of suffering: Why, Lord?! It can be frustrating but it is also a mercy that this is one of God’s secret things. We are not in charge of the universe so we don’t have to worry about why. This could be a very difficult place however for someone in the face of apparently meaningless suffering. This is where our faith can hold us and give us peace. Because the Bible does reveal who God is, because his character is not a secret he has kept to himself, we can know that he is faithful and good and merciful and just and sovereign. In this knowledge, we can navigate the storms in our lives with confidence that God is in charge and whatever we are going through, he has a purpose for, and in this knowledge we can have peace and confidence.

But as I continued to think about this verse, it occurs to me that the most important thing that God has revealed for which we are accountable is that he sent his beloved Son to save us. Jesus said “you search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; it is these that testify about me” (John 5:39). When Paul preached at Berea, we are told that the listeners examined the Scriptures daily to see whether these things were so (Acts 17:11). We can have confidence that we will find the truth about Jesus there because that is the purpose of Scripture. So, according to this verse in Deuteronomy, what we are responsible for is knowing Jesus and, in knowing him, have eternal life. Thank you, Lord, that this is what you require of me!

We recently had a dust-up because claims have been made once again about the end of time and the return of Jesus and his judgment of the world. May 21 past without a ripple. I expect October 21 to do the same. Jesus said of his second coming, “of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the father alone” (Matthew 24: 36). Before he returned to the father, he reiterated the point, “is not for you to know times or epochs which the Father has fixed by His own authority” (Acts 1:7). Jesus’ return is one of God’s secrets. Because of this assertion by Jesus, whenever I hear announcements about his return, I feel assured that whatever date is proposed is wrong! If we keep these things in mind, we will not be led astray by false prophets. We can stay on track with God’s intentions by paying attention to what he has revealed and not trying to figure out what he has decided to keep secret. This is the way to live at peace and in the confidence that God is in charge, and that the Lord of all the universe will do what is right and good and just.

Layers of Taste

By David Horn, ThD
Director, The Ockenga Institute

I love cooking shows on television. There, I said it. I don’t know why except there is something about a master cook putting just the right amount of butter into a sauté pan, and then adding the precise amount of onion and—can you believe it?—cinnamon and basil leaves together to make a simple glaze in such and such a recipe. ‘Oh, and don’t forget the pinch of sea salt.’ All this effort ends in layers of nuanced taste designed to stimulate a three centimeter flap of real estate we call the tongue.

To be honest, most of the layers of taste are wasted on us hungry souls. Many of us don’t have the capacity, or the patience, to drill down through the layers of taste to appreciate the dishes we eat. It is a little bit like a friend of mine who brings a very clean and experienced pallet to his wine drinking. I don’t know how he does it, but he can smell and sip and observe a vintage and, in a moment, tell the degree of pressure the grape was crushed under during the second week of September of such and such a year, grown on the south side—the sunny side—of certain area of south of France in a specific type of soil. For me, the wine is purple and wet. For him, it is musty and bruised.

Most of our lives are lived in this twilight zone of taste. But, to hear us talk on most days and most subjects, you would think that life and all it has to offer us is painted in big bold strokes of black and white. Perhaps we have been watching too much cable news. We like to make our comments on life large and brash. Perhaps our life of faith takes on this strident sense of self-assurance as well, as if God weighs in on His providential work in our lives always with complete clarity.

But, God rarely pronounces the final word on what he is doing with us before it happens. What if living a life of faith requires more of us than making bold declarations about His whereabouts. Maybe it requires that we live patiently in the midst of the quiet ambiguities of our lives, instilling faith in us that is not so much timid as complex. Now…do you see how the cinnamon mixes ever so nicely with the basil leaf?

What Jesus Learned

By Sean McDonough, PhD
Associate Professor of New Testament

The book of Hebrews is not standard Christmastime reading. But I was struck by the Advent relevance of these verses from Hebrews 5:8-9: “Although he was the son, he learned obedience from what he suffered; and after he was made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation to all those who obey him.”

It is easy for us to become functional Docetists, who imagine that Jesus only seemed to become human – after all, he is who God is, so how could he get mixed up with us? We might somewhat grudgingly concede that his incarnation is necessary for him to be a sacrifice for sins (a point Hebrews is also at pains to make in a later chapter), but does it really make a difference in who he is?

The answer of Hebrews is a resounding Yes. This portion of the book focuses on Jesus’ role as high priest. In order to be a faithful high priest, the author reasons, Jesus has to be able to sympathize with the people. He cannot do this if he has not experienced the same things they have experienced. And so he states quite carefully that Jesus learned obedience. This does not mean, of course, that Jesus had to “learn to be obedient” in the way we do – by combatting our inveterate tendency to disobey. But it does mean that he needed to experience suffering and temptation first-hand to qualify as a high priest. How else could he genuinely relate to us as we struggle in this world day by day?

Verse 9 makes the same point in equally expressive language – Jesus’ sufferings “perfected” him. In a sense, Jesus was already perfect – but with respect to being qualified as our high priest, he needed those sufferings to complete him for the job.

It is difficult to know what is more marvelous here: the astounding theological truth that the incarnation is absolutely integral to Jesus’ role as high priest, or the unspeakably powerful comfort it is to know that Jesus really does understand what we are going through even in the darkest times. As we strive to maintain our faith-filled obedience in this world (remember, he is the source of salvation to those who obey him, v.9), it is a blessing to know that he himself has learned obedience through his sufferings, and thus can be trusted to help us stay faithful no matter what the circumstances might be. And because he saw his task through to the end – been “ perfected”-- he can help us as we struggle towards maturity in our lives [the same root lies behind Jesus’ “perfection” in v.9 and the call to Christian maturity in v.14].

The blessings of Christmas, then, certainly do not end in the manger, nor do they even end at the cross. What Jesus learned on earth is a source of continuing comfort, as we bring our troubles day by day to our sympathetic friend and priest.

Should we have children?

By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling Charlotte campus

I have a friend who wants to have children. She is in the midst of deep conversation over this. Her husband says he does not want children - he says it will be like a death sentence to have a child. How do they decide? What factors go into the decision to have a child?

Peter Singer, chair of the Department of Philosophy at Princeton University, recently stirred up quite a bit of emotion with his blog “Should This Be the Last Generation?” (See http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/06/06/should-this-be-the-last-generation/). He presents the arguments of another philosopher who basically says, we should stop reproducing because it is better to have never existed than to have lived this life which has so much pain and suffering.

Let me repeat that: It is better to have never existed than to have lived because there is so much pain and suffering. The fleeting happiness we do experience is not worth the living of a life.

Singer is a utilitarian philosopher. He claims not to be a classic utilitarian philosopher because it’s not just about how much happiness he accrues. Rather his utilitarianism is one that asks what action creates the greatest good for all sentient beings, with the least harm. However, at bottom, “because it makes me happy” is basically why he says ‘yes’ - his children and grandchildren make him happy. They lead relatively happy lives.

Chuck Colson, member of the board of trustees of GCTS, wrote a column in the August edition of Christianity Today, “The Lost Art of Commitment.” Colson is commenting on the radical individualism of our culture that defines meaning in terms of personal happiness. Since the 1960s and 70s, a new generation has arisen that does not make commitments. That generation includes many who have no sense of community or social obligation, who live in a world perceived as lacking meaning. Colson cites Robert Bella as calling this “‘ontological individualism,’ the belief that the individual is the only source of meaning.” But Colson notes, instead, that life’s meaning is really found in relationship - with God and with each other, and this requires commitment. He writes, in exact opposition to what Peter Singer asserts, that “by abandoning commitment, our narcissistic culture has lost the one thing it desperately seeks: happiness. Without commitment, our individual lives will be barren and sterile. Without commitment, our lives with lack meaning and purpose. After all, if nothing is worth dying for . . . then nothing is worth living for” (emphasis added).

“Whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (I Cor 10:31). If God is our source of meaning, then this is the reason for our choices. To have children is an act of faith that God is still on his throne and sovereign over all creation. To have children is an act of hope that God is still watching and caring, and redeeming the world. To have children is an act of love that God has made the two one flesh and blessed that union.

This does not make our lives easier or simpler, or give us any guarantees. I don’t know what my friends will decide about children. I pray for them as they wrestle through their decision. It is painful to watch them struggle with this decision. I myself do not have children, not by choice. But since my life is about glorifying God, not my personal happiness, then I believe my childlessness is a part of his plan for me. Sometimes, this means I hold on to “God is sovereign and God is good” and look for his meaning in this. I cling to the Scripture that says all things work together for good to those who love God, who are called according to his purpose, even if I can’t understand how right now. Jesus showed us that we are worth dying for, and that makes our lives worth living. Period. So, should we have children? That decision, as all decisions for us as children of God, should flow out of this truth, rather than some individualistic computation of personal happiness. “You are worthy, O Lord our God, to receive glory and honor and power. For you created all things, and they exist because you created what you pleased.” (Rev 4:11, NLT).

Rifles against Armored Tanks

By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling Charlotte campus

This summer, I taught Research Methods and Design to counseling students. I love teaching this course. One reason, of course, is that I spent several decades of my life in full-time research and I enjoy thinking about research methodology and sharing it with others. The other reason I love teaching this course, however, is the obvious impact that it has on students. Every semester, one (if not more) student tells me how taking this course has affected them: “I used to just read articles and believe what they said, but now I find myself asking ‘Is this true? How do they know? Was this a well-designed study?’” That encompasses my goals for the students in this course: to learn to think critically and read analytically.

Recently, I have been reading Creed Without Chaos: Exploring Theology in the Writings of Dorothy L. Sayers by Laura Simmons. Dorothy Sayers is one of my favorite authors. In a chapter on Sayers’ theology of language, Simmons quotes from a book I have not read, The Lost Tools of Learning, which speaks to Sayers’ thoughts on education and propaganda. This book was written in 1948, and Sayers was very mindful of propaganda and its effects during World War II, and was concerned about the implications for the future of society. She wrote:

For we let our young men and women go out unarmed, in a day when armour was never so necessary. By teaching them all to read, we have left them at the mercy of the printed word. By the invention of the film and the radio, we have made certain that no aversion to reading shall secure them from the incessant battery of words, words, words. They do not know what the words mean; they do not know how to ward them off or blunt their edge or fling them back; they are prey to words in their emotions instead of being the masters of them in their intellects. We who were scandalized in 1940 when men were sent to fight armoured tanks with rifles, are not scandalized when young men and women are sent into the world to fight massed propaganda with a smattering of “subjects”; and when whole classes and whole nations become hypnotized by the arts of the spellbinder, we have the impudence to be astonished.

I find this to be a remarkable observation. It has been my earnest desire for Christians to have a well-developed, self-conscious theology and worldview, and to be able to “always be ready to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give an account of the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3:15). Dorothy Sayers point is well taken: in order to resist the distortions with which we are constantly bombarded in the media, as well as to be able to present a winsome argument for our faith, we must be able to reason well, think critically, and craft our words effectively. This is not something with which we are born or develop merely because we acquire language. This takes effort, study, and sometimes struggling to understand and analyze an argument.

When my students begin the Research Methods and Design course, they are generally not happy with the prospect of reading all those research articles I assign, and trying to critique them to my satisfaction. Inevitably, however, by the end of the course, they are excited about their new capacities to think critically and analyze what they read. This is my gift to them: they are not facing armored tanks with rifles anymore. They have armored tanks of their own. My prayer is that we all are concerned to develop the critical thinking skills we need to not only resist the bombardment but also to mount a positive argument for our faith in the One who is called the Word of God.

By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling Charlotte campus

At Easter time, I often find myself reflecting on one particular character in the Easter story. This year, I found myself thinking about Thomas. The Scripture refers to him as Thomas the twin, but he is better known today as doubting Thomas. This is no doubt because of the story found in John chapter 20. Thomas appears only a few times in the Gospel stories, mostly during the listing of the names of the twelve. In John 11, when Jesus tells the disciples that he is returning to Bethany to raise Lazarus from the dead, Thomas response first, saying "let us go also, so that we may die with him." He also appears however in John 14 where his question to Jesus about not knowing where he is going, Jesus responds with that oft-quoted verse "I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes to the father but through me." You've got to love the guy! On the one hand, his faith seems to be reflected in his willingness to follow Jesus even though he thinks it will result in death. On the other hand, he does not really understand who Jesus is or what he is doing. Which brings me to John chapter 20, were Jesus helps him to finally be clear on the subject of who he is.

After the disciples had been shocked by the report of Mary Magdalene that she had encountered the risen Christ, he had appeared to them through the locked doors of the upper room. He calmed their fears and showed them that he was truly risen from the dead. Thomas, however, was not with them at that time. When he showed up, they told him about seeing Jesus risen from the dead, and he expressed his doubt: “Unless I see in His hands the imprint of the nails, and put my finger into the place of the nails, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe” (John 20:25). Some commentators suggest that the presentation of injuries were sometimes presented as evidence in court. This would be in keeping with some of the other testimony-like features of the resurrection story. Nevertheless, it is, no doubt, because of this response that we call him doubting Thomas. But is it so different from the rest of the disciples who did not believe Mary Magdalene?

I can appreciate Thomas. I can appreciate his need for evidence. I've spent most of my career as a biomedical scientist, and I tend to look for evidence to support or refute my theories. I have to see it to believe it also. When I was a young Christian, I was ashamed of this. If I really had faith I wouldn't need "evidences." I would be able to hear God's Word and that would be sufficient. I feared judgment for my unbelief. And then I found Thomas.

What draws me to this story in John 20 is Jesus’ response to Thomas. About a week after the first appearance, Jesus shows up again behind closed and locked doors, but this time Thomas is present. The first thing reported of Jesus is that he speaks to Thomas: “He said to Thomas, ‘Reach here with your finger, and see My hands; and reach here your hand and put it into My side; and do not be unbelieving, but believing.’” Thomas needed evidence, and Jesus offered the evidence he needed. As a young Christian, this was not the response that I had expected to my struggle and unbelief. I expected condemnation. But Jesus doesn't condemn Thomas. Jesus offers Thomas what he needs to believe. And Thomas rises to the occasion remarkably well: ‘Thomas answered and said to Him, “My Lord and my God!”’ (vs. 28). The Gospel of John highlights the response of people to Jesus’ ministry and claims about himself, contrasting belief and unbelief. What endears this story to me is that it tells me that no matter how fragile my faith is and no matter how challenged it is by my inclination to require evidence, Jesus will always meet me there and give me what I need to have the faith he requires. In fact, right there with Thomas I see myself receiving a promise directly from Jesus: “Jesus said to him, ‘Because you have seen Me, have you believed? Blessed are they who did not see, and yet believed’” (vs. 29). Thank you, Jesus.

God Bless the People of Haiti

By Roy Ciampa, PhD
Associate Professor of New Testament

Our hearts have been broken as we have learned of the devastation suffered by the people of Haiti since the recent earthquake and its aftershocks. So much suffering for a country that had already experienced more than its share… Their tragic situation is not helped by the thoughtless suggestion that the massive destruction, leading to the deaths of more than 200,000 people, may have been “a blessing in disguise” (because it could lead to massive rebuilding) or the suggestion that Haiti’s troubles are to be attributed to an imagined pact its people made with the Devil (Pat Robertson: “They got together and swore a pact to the Devil. They said, ‘We will serve you if you will get us free from the French.’ True story! And so the Devil said, ‘OK, it’s a deal.’”). Such tragedies strain our faith and challenge us theologically, just as they challenged Job’s “friends.” The best thing they did was provide comfort by their silent presence for seven days (Job 2:13). But then they also made inappropriate applications flowing from their limited theological understanding. We would also do better to remain silent than to offer such imaginatively unhelpful analysis. Too many Christians have spent too much time coming up with theological grounds for blaming victims of tragic events, as though the world we live in is one where things go well for people unless they have given God or fate some excuse to bring destruction their way. Followers of Jesus Christ, of all people, should know better.

The people of Haiti suffer from tremendous poverty, but such a large number of them demonstrate an equally tremendous faith in and love for God. I remember my wife telling me about the joyous expressions of faith she encountered during her time in Haiti on a mission trip years ago. The news reports have been filled with Haitian people praising Jesus Christ upon every bit of good news in the midst of all the bad. In one extended interview a woman who had been pulled out of the rubble (and who was now in a hospital bed) focused on how her faith in God had sustained her through her time under the rubble and how she reads her Bible every day and was able to remain strong in hope through her reflection on psalms and other relevant texts from Scripture. The constant references to and expressions of Christian faith should not surprise us since the World Christian Database indicates that 95.21% of the country’s population holds to one form of Christianity or another. I am not so confident that I and my fellow countrymen would have such a bold, open and even joyous faith if were to live such materially impoverished lives.

Our own church is supporting the people of Haiti in a few different ways, through special offerings for Hope for the Children of Haiti, and organization that we regularly support and other funding going to World Relief. I hope you and your church will also find a way to make a difference in this and/or other areas where people have such a desperate need for both material and spiritual help. Paul reminds us that even those who are experiencing their own severe trials and extreme poverty may demonstrate rich generosity (cf. 2 Corinthians 8:1-2). May God bless the people of Haiti and help them overcome the many factors that promote economic poverty in that country (and the conditions that lead to living and fragile and even inherently dangerous housing). And may God help the rest of us to learn from the humble faith of those who know how to worship and honor God with all they have even what that “all” is very little in comparison to the resources found elsewhere.

Tenacious Faith

By Jeff Arthurs
Professor of Preaching & Communication and Dean of the Chapel

I've been a Christian since 1972—37 years! You'd think I would be farther along in the faith, wouldn't you? But as the poet Wordsworth said, "The world is too much with us." Or better, as the Apostle Paul said, "that which I want to do, I don't do; and that which I don't want to do, I find myself doing. . . . Who will deliver me from this body of death?" The answer, of course, is "God, through Jesus Christ our Lord."

Here is a prayer to God for deliverance. It is a sonnet. It asks the Lord for something I crave yet experience only sporadically—the happy, free, seemingly effortless faith I see in so many of my friends. Belief for them seems to be as easy as breathing, but for me it always has been a stretch.

Tenacious Faith

Tenacious faith I know and yet begrudge.
I’d like a faith of ecstasy and cheer,
Or even faith of penitence and fear
Of God, the omnipresent Father-Judge.
Easy faith, happy faith—a call,
A gift? Why not mine? My walk is fretful
Fumble-feeling, wander-wondering, wishful
Stumble-striving for that plane where Paul
(And others) seem to live ebulliently.
He (and they) feel sure that neither life,
Nor death, nor angels, no, not this world rife
With powers may undo capriciously.
Increase my faith, my Lord (I do believe).
Send rain to this dry land: revive, relieve!