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Following up my last blog (hopefully, this installment won't be as lengthy as the last one I inflicted on my long-suffering audience), the second assumption people make is that the "heathen" are ignorant of Biblical truth. Now, let me make a point of distinguishing between knowledge of right and wrong and Biblical truth; by Biblical truth I mean basic Biblical facts and knowledge about God, Jesus, etc.
It is a very natural assumption to think that those living in desolate places without any contact with Christian civilization would be totally unaware of what the Bible teaches. However, it is an assumption, and one that has proven to be astonishingly wrong. Missionaries can tell you just how very wrong it is.
One such missionary is a gentleman named Jim Stanley, a missionary to an obscure African tribe called the Busaris (I doubt that is the correct spelling - I need to brush up on my obscure African dialects, I guess). Here were "ignorant heathens" at their best. When Mr. Stanley arrived in Africa, he didn't know quite where to begin teaching the Busaris about God and the Bible. So, he decided the best route of action was to discover what they did know, and he asked them out right what they knew about God. To which the chief replied, "We know three things. First, He exists. Second, He is going to judge us someday. Third, we are afraid of Him."
Now, how could they possibly know that God was going to judge them someday? The bare fact that God may exist was not just logical grounds to conclude that that God was going to judge them. So, the question remains, how did they know such a profound and fundamental Biblical fact?
This idea of judgement occurs with astonishing regularity among the heathen. Another case in point is the Ecuadorian Auca Indians or Waodani tribe made famous by the martyrdom of five men who attempted to reach them in 1956. The Waodani are animists, but they do believe that when they die, they will walk the trail to the afterlife where they will meet the Great Boa, or obe, and, if their deeds are such on earth as to make them strong, they will be able to jump the Great Boa and enter into the afterlife. While the Bible teaches nothing about a Great Boa, still it is fascinating to once again see the belief of future judgement so imbedded into a culture that should be ignorant of it.
But the story that takes the cake, is the story of the Yanomamo (Venezuelan rainforest) shaman talking with a Christian missionary. I believe the missionary's name is Gary Dawson, and this story is available for listening at this site:
http://radiotime.com/program/p_39957/Focus_On_The_Family.aspx
(You'll find the story under the title "Finding the One True God 2" I highly, highly recommend listening to part 1, also.)
For those of you who don't have the time to listen to the story at the above link, let me tell you as best as I can. One day Gary went to a village where no white man had ever been. As he approached the village, the chanting of the village shaman ceased abruptly. Gary didn't think too much of the incident at the time. However, the next day while talking to the old shaman, he got the surprise of his life. When he attempted to tell the shaman about God, the shaman told Gary he already knew about Him. The shaman's spirits had told him about God, but that He was their enemy. And then the shaman proceeded to tell Gary about the place where God lived, and to describe the angels/being who lived in His presence. He said that he had seen afar off the land where God lived, where there was a river that flowed through that land which was for healing. The shaman then went on to tell Gary that the reason the chanting had ceased so abruptly when Gary had first arrived was that the shaman's spirits were afraid of Gary's God, and that they wanted to know when Gary was leaving so they could come back.
!!!
(Only exclamation points will express my sentiments!)
Anything more to be said on this point would be superfluous. If such a story doesn't prove that the ignorant heathen aren't so ignorant after all, I don't know what does. I rest my case.
'Til next time,
Pastor Chelle
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Three Big, Fat Assumptions
You know as well as I do, that assumptions are dangerous. At least, I hope you do. It is an interesting fact that so many people's attitudes and opinions about the Christian faith and the God of the faith are based on assumptions. In the next blog or two... or three... or four..., 8-) I want to point out some assumptions, big, fat assumptions, on a certain subject, that, in spite of their size, often get overlooked.
Back when I first became a Christian, I picked up Charles Templeton's book, Farewell to God. Templeton made a comment in that book, I've never forgotten. At first, it troubled me; I was young in my faith, and not as adept in apologetics now. (Though I hasten to add that I am no Lewis or Zacharias yet, either!) But as the years have rolled by, as my relationship with God has strengthened, as I've studied, and as I've gained experience, Templeton's comment doesn't trouble me any more.
One of his reasons for kissing God goodbye, so to speak, was that he believed Christianity was culturally conditioned. "If," said he, "you were raised in the Middle East, chances are you would be a Muslim." Being born in North America made it likely that you would be a Christian. And furthermore, because faith was largely dependent on where one was born, so your knowledge of God/faith would be limited to your culture. In other words, if God damned people to hell because the they didn't believe in Jesus, He was a very unjust God for damning people for what they could not help - what they couldn't/didn't know, and, therefore, the Christian faith was not valid.
Now, that is a very convoluted way of explaining Mr. Templeton's very smooth and concise arguments ( I told you I wasn't Lewis or Zacharias!), but that is the gist of it. That way of thinking shook my world, all the more so, because I was aware enough to have wondered the same thing myself. Assuming Christianity and our understanding of it is valid, have you ever wondered just how it will be when the "ignorant heathen" stand before God to be judged of their sins? Is it fair for God to send them to hell merely because they are ignorant? It's the sort of issue that causes a strong knee-jerk reaction, doesn't it?
What I didn't see when I was a new, teenage Christian was the huge assumptions in this line of reasoning. In fact, there are so many assumptions, that I'm not sure where to begin. One assumption, both Christians and atheists have made over the years is that God does send all the "heathen" to hell. The Christians have made the assumption through flawed reasoning, and the atheist has reached the assumption through prejudice and ignorance - assuming that the flawed reasoning of many Christians is an accurate representation of Christian doctrine. (More assumptions!) But there are three bigger, fatter assumptions the atheist makes who subscribes to Templeton's reasoning.
The first is that they assume the heathen are ignorant of right and wrong, particularly what God has defined as right and wrong. In this they could not be more mistaken. The Bible says in Romans chapter 2, that God has written His law on the hearts of all humanity, and that people do/know by nature/instinct what is right and wrong without direct revelation - revelation such as what the Jews experienced at Mt. Sinai when the Ten Commandments was given. And the evidence that God has indeed written His law on our hearts is the presence of our conscience - that thing that accuses us or excuses us, that thing that so inconveniently pricks when we are all set to have "fun", that thing that we spend our lifetime trying to soothe and salve.
The best way to explain what the Bible teaches about this subject, is the classic illustration of two children playing ball. Let's say it's a brother and sister named Janie and Tommy. At some point, Janie and Tommy decide to play ball together using Janie's ball. Everything goes fine for a few tosses, until suddenly Janie decides to hang on to the ball rather than throw it back. Immediately there is a row.
Tommy sets up the howling first, "Throw it back, Janie!"
"No,"says Janie, clutching her ball tightly, "It's my ball!"
"But you agreed we would play together!" retorts Tommy, "And you should keep your promise!"
"Who says?" scowls Janie, and clutches her ball tighter."
I'll leave to your imagination how that little scenario ends; however, I think anyone with kids has a pretty good idea what the outcome will be.
What happens in situations like that points to the fact, that even very young kids appeal to a universal scheme of right and wrong, and know how to accuse each other and excuse themselves when they find themselves in the position to do so. I've heard people say that kids do things like that because of cultural conditioning and evolution, but I have to say as kindly as I know how that I think that is nothing more than a cop-out to deny what is clear evidence of a moral law beyond ourselves written by a Lawgiver upon our heart. It always cracks me up how atheists and their ilk go to such lengths to prove there is no such thing as a moral law written into our natures, and then go out and argue frantically and furiously that Christians have no business imposing their beliefs on others. I've always wanted to retort like Janie, "Says who?" If there is no right and wrong, only what culture says or evolution has taught us, what right have you got to tell me that it is wrong to impose my beliefs on somebody else, unless there is a higher law which teaches us mutual respect?
I recently preached on this subject at my church, and I would like to give you the illustration I gave to my congregation to make the point that the ignorant heathen are not ignorant of God's right and wrong, and that their conscience bear witness to it. It is the story of a man named Don Richardson, author of the book Peace Child. A graduate of Prairie Bible Institute in Alberta, Don and his wife became missionaries to the cannibals of Western New Guinea. The cannibals' culture is something else. Fancy living in a culture where betrayal is a virtue! For the cannibals it was a "big deal" to make friends with somebody from a neighboring village, make all kinds of promises about what the relationship offered, such as the promise of free trade between the two villages, and then when the friendship was well cemented, turn around and eat them. Lovely. (Incidentally, I discovered from reading that book that mac'n'cheese looks like brains; just a little tidbit you might find interesting.) To the cannibal, Judas Ischariot was a hero. Talk of a missionary's worst nightmare. But as warped and twisted as a cannibal's thinking might be, there is a point, where even their conscience kicks into gear, and they sue for peace with each other, a cessation of betrayals and eating one another. And when two villages/tribes decide to make peace, they have a ritual called the "peace child;" in the ritual, they agree to make peace, and, the token given as proof that they have made peace, is to exchange children or babies, so that each village has a representative of the other living in it. The peace stands as long as the peace child lives. If that peace treaty is betrayed and the child is eaten, it is the ultimate transgression. Even in a culture so darkened, there is no words for the monstrosity of such a crime.
And in that illustration we see how the supposedly ignorant heathen know there is a higher law, and they appeal to it. Their conscience accuses them and excuses them. God has not left Himself without a witness. In the end, God will judge them for how they responded when their own conscience pricked them, and He will be perfectly justified to do so.
Mr. Templeton was wrong. The heathen are not so ignorant, and God is not unjust to judge a cannibal for eating a defenceless baby offered to him in good faith. As the Bible puts it, they are without excuse.
Part 2 to follow soon when we'll discuss the next big, fat assumption. 'Til then, God bless.
Pastor Chelle
Back when I first became a Christian, I picked up Charles Templeton's book, Farewell to God. Templeton made a comment in that book, I've never forgotten. At first, it troubled me; I was young in my faith, and not as adept in apologetics now. (Though I hasten to add that I am no Lewis or Zacharias yet, either!) But as the years have rolled by, as my relationship with God has strengthened, as I've studied, and as I've gained experience, Templeton's comment doesn't trouble me any more.
One of his reasons for kissing God goodbye, so to speak, was that he believed Christianity was culturally conditioned. "If," said he, "you were raised in the Middle East, chances are you would be a Muslim." Being born in North America made it likely that you would be a Christian. And furthermore, because faith was largely dependent on where one was born, so your knowledge of God/faith would be limited to your culture. In other words, if God damned people to hell because the they didn't believe in Jesus, He was a very unjust God for damning people for what they could not help - what they couldn't/didn't know, and, therefore, the Christian faith was not valid.
Now, that is a very convoluted way of explaining Mr. Templeton's very smooth and concise arguments ( I told you I wasn't Lewis or Zacharias!), but that is the gist of it. That way of thinking shook my world, all the more so, because I was aware enough to have wondered the same thing myself. Assuming Christianity and our understanding of it is valid, have you ever wondered just how it will be when the "ignorant heathen" stand before God to be judged of their sins? Is it fair for God to send them to hell merely because they are ignorant? It's the sort of issue that causes a strong knee-jerk reaction, doesn't it?
What I didn't see when I was a new, teenage Christian was the huge assumptions in this line of reasoning. In fact, there are so many assumptions, that I'm not sure where to begin. One assumption, both Christians and atheists have made over the years is that God does send all the "heathen" to hell. The Christians have made the assumption through flawed reasoning, and the atheist has reached the assumption through prejudice and ignorance - assuming that the flawed reasoning of many Christians is an accurate representation of Christian doctrine. (More assumptions!) But there are three bigger, fatter assumptions the atheist makes who subscribes to Templeton's reasoning.
The first is that they assume the heathen are ignorant of right and wrong, particularly what God has defined as right and wrong. In this they could not be more mistaken. The Bible says in Romans chapter 2, that God has written His law on the hearts of all humanity, and that people do/know by nature/instinct what is right and wrong without direct revelation - revelation such as what the Jews experienced at Mt. Sinai when the Ten Commandments was given. And the evidence that God has indeed written His law on our hearts is the presence of our conscience - that thing that accuses us or excuses us, that thing that so inconveniently pricks when we are all set to have "fun", that thing that we spend our lifetime trying to soothe and salve.
The best way to explain what the Bible teaches about this subject, is the classic illustration of two children playing ball. Let's say it's a brother and sister named Janie and Tommy. At some point, Janie and Tommy decide to play ball together using Janie's ball. Everything goes fine for a few tosses, until suddenly Janie decides to hang on to the ball rather than throw it back. Immediately there is a row.
Tommy sets up the howling first, "Throw it back, Janie!"
"No,"says Janie, clutching her ball tightly, "It's my ball!"
"But you agreed we would play together!" retorts Tommy, "And you should keep your promise!"
"Who says?" scowls Janie, and clutches her ball tighter."
I'll leave to your imagination how that little scenario ends; however, I think anyone with kids has a pretty good idea what the outcome will be.
What happens in situations like that points to the fact, that even very young kids appeal to a universal scheme of right and wrong, and know how to accuse each other and excuse themselves when they find themselves in the position to do so. I've heard people say that kids do things like that because of cultural conditioning and evolution, but I have to say as kindly as I know how that I think that is nothing more than a cop-out to deny what is clear evidence of a moral law beyond ourselves written by a Lawgiver upon our heart. It always cracks me up how atheists and their ilk go to such lengths to prove there is no such thing as a moral law written into our natures, and then go out and argue frantically and furiously that Christians have no business imposing their beliefs on others. I've always wanted to retort like Janie, "Says who?" If there is no right and wrong, only what culture says or evolution has taught us, what right have you got to tell me that it is wrong to impose my beliefs on somebody else, unless there is a higher law which teaches us mutual respect?
I recently preached on this subject at my church, and I would like to give you the illustration I gave to my congregation to make the point that the ignorant heathen are not ignorant of God's right and wrong, and that their conscience bear witness to it. It is the story of a man named Don Richardson, author of the book Peace Child. A graduate of Prairie Bible Institute in Alberta, Don and his wife became missionaries to the cannibals of Western New Guinea. The cannibals' culture is something else. Fancy living in a culture where betrayal is a virtue! For the cannibals it was a "big deal" to make friends with somebody from a neighboring village, make all kinds of promises about what the relationship offered, such as the promise of free trade between the two villages, and then when the friendship was well cemented, turn around and eat them. Lovely. (Incidentally, I discovered from reading that book that mac'n'cheese looks like brains; just a little tidbit you might find interesting.) To the cannibal, Judas Ischariot was a hero. Talk of a missionary's worst nightmare. But as warped and twisted as a cannibal's thinking might be, there is a point, where even their conscience kicks into gear, and they sue for peace with each other, a cessation of betrayals and eating one another. And when two villages/tribes decide to make peace, they have a ritual called the "peace child;" in the ritual, they agree to make peace, and, the token given as proof that they have made peace, is to exchange children or babies, so that each village has a representative of the other living in it. The peace stands as long as the peace child lives. If that peace treaty is betrayed and the child is eaten, it is the ultimate transgression. Even in a culture so darkened, there is no words for the monstrosity of such a crime.
And in that illustration we see how the supposedly ignorant heathen know there is a higher law, and they appeal to it. Their conscience accuses them and excuses them. God has not left Himself without a witness. In the end, God will judge them for how they responded when their own conscience pricked them, and He will be perfectly justified to do so.
Mr. Templeton was wrong. The heathen are not so ignorant, and God is not unjust to judge a cannibal for eating a defenceless baby offered to him in good faith. As the Bible puts it, they are without excuse.
Part 2 to follow soon when we'll discuss the next big, fat assumption. 'Til then, God bless.
Pastor Chelle
Thursday, July 16, 2009
My Brother's Keeper
There's something on my mind that I'm not entirely sure how to express... though, as per usual, I shall have a go at it, even if it's a "rum go," to borrow a phrase from my British friends. My ruminations of late have been on the subject of what is our responsibility toward those upon whom our culture bestows the title star or celebrity. Or, rather, how are we to relate to the them.
Naturally, I am thinking -and writing - from a devout Christian's perspective.
There are times I just roll my eyes in exasperation when I hear what those professing to be my fellow Christians say and do with regards to the stars. There seems to be two ditches into which we regularly fall: one, mindless idolization, or, two, mindless vilification.
We tumble into the first ditch when we give ourselves up to entertaining ourselves freely with the wares that the various artists provide us. Sometimes I am hard pressed to restrain myself from speaking unadvisedly when I witness some of the movies Christians watch and the music to which they listen, and frequently watch and listen seemingly without critical, intelligent reasoning. I think I've heard every argument about why Christians have the liberty to watch and listen to whatever they want, but those arguments are getting a bit thin... and foolish. I'm not going to go into the whole theological nine yards about why we shouldn't watch movies or listen to music full of cussing, that glorify sinful practices, and/or mock Christian practice. Maybe someday I will, but not now. What I would like to ask, however, is this: do the various musicians and actors, who do not share our faith, ever get weary or annoyed with Christians who entertain themselves with what the artists themselves know to be totally against all that we profess to believe? Do they get fed up with our hypocrisy?
The sight of Christians wallowing in the ditch of mindless vilification nearly gives me apoplexy. Back in the mid nineties, a gospel group published a song that was little more than a rant about all the things that were wrong with America. I admit that at the time I thought it had merit, though down inside it made me decidedly uncomfortable. As I've matured as a Christian, I've discovered why it made me feel the way it did. It was the simple fact that the punkers, musicians, politicians, and actors that they took to task in that song were people - people, who no matter what sins they may have been guilty of committing, still had a basic need for love. You see, there is one thing that we seem to forget in the midst of all our ranting and raving about the great sins of stars: these people can hear what is being said, sung and written about them (one artist made the comment that he didn't know what was with people - "Don't they know I can read [what's being said about me]?"), and, whether we like to think it or not, they know if we truly care about them or not - they aren't fooled by our words... like we seem to be. It's all well and good to say that we love the sinner, but hate the sin. However, I would like to suggest that if the sensational sins of the sinner get more of your attention than the need of the sinner, then you have fallen into the ditch of mindless vilification.
The depth to which we have wallowed in these ditches is revealed when the various stars die. The recent passing of Michael Jackson gave us a good example of it. For my part, I was heartbroken for the loss of this man - not because he was an idol of mine - but because death is a serious matter and should be cause for grief. When a soul - any soul - is plunged into eternity, it should sober us. But when a star, a pop icon, dies, we react like nincompoops. Either we join with the world, and grieve without reason, bowing at their coffins as if they were the shrines of the brightest deities, or we behave like unsanctified jackasses.
I have heard statements about the eternal destiny of Michael Jackson from those professing high religion that have made my cheeks burn with mortification. One gentleman waxed eloquent stating that Michael was dancing with Lucifer and firecrackers - in a very public situation with non-believers to witness the statement, no less. Oh, for shame! For shame! For shame! Whatever happened to Christian charity and a heart that breaks with love for the sinner? This question is not a commentary on the eternal destiny of the late pope icon, but, let me ask, if God has no pleasure in the death of the wicked, what right have you shooting your mouth off in such a fashion? We are called to judge righteous judgement, yes, but we are forbidden to enter into the kind of judgement that would decide someone's eternal fate, as clearly as we are forbidden to commit murder, lie or steal. Chew on that thought for awhile, and I hope you have a good appetite for it. We let fly with our mouth, and then we have the audacity to wonder why the world has no use for the Christian. As my dear, old Grandmother used to say, "you can't pull up the sinner over the back of a hypocritical Christian." Amen. And don't even think to suggest that the anti-Christian sentiment that is flooding the world is merely a sign of the times. Christians hang themselves, and then blame the devil and the world at large.
It's at a time like this, when I have to ask, do Christians really care about celebrities? Or are we so wrapped up in our self-righteousness that we never give them a second thought? Do we ever really truly take the time to pray for them? And I mean pray for them - pray for them so that we will have no personal regret when they die? Or are we too caught up in our worship of them to be concerned for their soul? Do we really want them - in good "Christian-ese" - to get saved and have the change of life they so desperately need? Or would that leave us without an idol to adore? Do we care? Or in the words of another, "Am I my brother's keeper?"
'Til next blog, God be with us all,
Pastor Chelle
Naturally, I am thinking -and writing - from a devout Christian's perspective.
There are times I just roll my eyes in exasperation when I hear what those professing to be my fellow Christians say and do with regards to the stars. There seems to be two ditches into which we regularly fall: one, mindless idolization, or, two, mindless vilification.
We tumble into the first ditch when we give ourselves up to entertaining ourselves freely with the wares that the various artists provide us. Sometimes I am hard pressed to restrain myself from speaking unadvisedly when I witness some of the movies Christians watch and the music to which they listen, and frequently watch and listen seemingly without critical, intelligent reasoning. I think I've heard every argument about why Christians have the liberty to watch and listen to whatever they want, but those arguments are getting a bit thin... and foolish. I'm not going to go into the whole theological nine yards about why we shouldn't watch movies or listen to music full of cussing, that glorify sinful practices, and/or mock Christian practice. Maybe someday I will, but not now. What I would like to ask, however, is this: do the various musicians and actors, who do not share our faith, ever get weary or annoyed with Christians who entertain themselves with what the artists themselves know to be totally against all that we profess to believe? Do they get fed up with our hypocrisy?
The sight of Christians wallowing in the ditch of mindless vilification nearly gives me apoplexy. Back in the mid nineties, a gospel group published a song that was little more than a rant about all the things that were wrong with America. I admit that at the time I thought it had merit, though down inside it made me decidedly uncomfortable. As I've matured as a Christian, I've discovered why it made me feel the way it did. It was the simple fact that the punkers, musicians, politicians, and actors that they took to task in that song were people - people, who no matter what sins they may have been guilty of committing, still had a basic need for love. You see, there is one thing that we seem to forget in the midst of all our ranting and raving about the great sins of stars: these people can hear what is being said, sung and written about them (one artist made the comment that he didn't know what was with people - "Don't they know I can read [what's being said about me]?"), and, whether we like to think it or not, they know if we truly care about them or not - they aren't fooled by our words... like we seem to be. It's all well and good to say that we love the sinner, but hate the sin. However, I would like to suggest that if the sensational sins of the sinner get more of your attention than the need of the sinner, then you have fallen into the ditch of mindless vilification.
The depth to which we have wallowed in these ditches is revealed when the various stars die. The recent passing of Michael Jackson gave us a good example of it. For my part, I was heartbroken for the loss of this man - not because he was an idol of mine - but because death is a serious matter and should be cause for grief. When a soul - any soul - is plunged into eternity, it should sober us. But when a star, a pop icon, dies, we react like nincompoops. Either we join with the world, and grieve without reason, bowing at their coffins as if they were the shrines of the brightest deities, or we behave like unsanctified jackasses.
I have heard statements about the eternal destiny of Michael Jackson from those professing high religion that have made my cheeks burn with mortification. One gentleman waxed eloquent stating that Michael was dancing with Lucifer and firecrackers - in a very public situation with non-believers to witness the statement, no less. Oh, for shame! For shame! For shame! Whatever happened to Christian charity and a heart that breaks with love for the sinner? This question is not a commentary on the eternal destiny of the late pope icon, but, let me ask, if God has no pleasure in the death of the wicked, what right have you shooting your mouth off in such a fashion? We are called to judge righteous judgement, yes, but we are forbidden to enter into the kind of judgement that would decide someone's eternal fate, as clearly as we are forbidden to commit murder, lie or steal. Chew on that thought for awhile, and I hope you have a good appetite for it. We let fly with our mouth, and then we have the audacity to wonder why the world has no use for the Christian. As my dear, old Grandmother used to say, "you can't pull up the sinner over the back of a hypocritical Christian." Amen. And don't even think to suggest that the anti-Christian sentiment that is flooding the world is merely a sign of the times. Christians hang themselves, and then blame the devil and the world at large.
It's at a time like this, when I have to ask, do Christians really care about celebrities? Or are we so wrapped up in our self-righteousness that we never give them a second thought? Do we ever really truly take the time to pray for them? And I mean pray for them - pray for them so that we will have no personal regret when they die? Or are we too caught up in our worship of them to be concerned for their soul? Do we really want them - in good "Christian-ese" - to get saved and have the change of life they so desperately need? Or would that leave us without an idol to adore? Do we care? Or in the words of another, "Am I my brother's keeper?"
'Til next blog, God be with us all,
Pastor Chelle
Sunday, July 12, 2009
O.B.D pt 3
The alehouse erupted with laughter at the sight of O.B.D. drenched in beer, blinking, shaking droplets from his face, and wiping the stinking stuff from his mouth and chin.
His tormentor laughed along with the crowd, "Don't it smell good, daddy? Ain't beer got a lovely smell to it? You silly, old fool! Why didn't you take it inside [of you] instead of out? Come here, I'll give you another drop. I'll stand you one. You shan't have the shilling, but you shall have the beer."
"I don't want it," O.B.D replied doggedly.
Only someone who has fought with alcohol addiction can understand what a miracle it was for him not to "fall off the wagon" under such intense pressure. The smell of booze alone is enough to set an alcoholic's throat on fire with thirst; to have it on the lips is sheer torture. But such was the magnitude of the miracle that God's grace had wrought in O.B.D. At this juncture, the rest of the lads in the ale house took pity on O.B.D. When they saw his quiet firmness, they "took up a subscription" (collection) for him, and he left the place with his pockets full of money. He also left it a hero.
In the years that followed, O.B.D remained firm, never once touching a drop of liquor. He was a marvel to all that knew him. He saved up enough money so that he was able to go into business for himself. His wife and son joined the Salvation Army, but, unfortunately, due to the physical damage the booze had done to him, O.B.D. was never able to work in the Army. But, in spite of not being able to work full time for his beloved Army, he was still able to reach out to his old associates just by his living example of how God could transform the life of even such as he had been. They knew what he had been, they knew what he had become, and they knew it was God that had made the change. During O.B.D's lifetime in that neighborhood, all the barroom atheists' arguments simply melted away. Every debate ended when some bloke would ask, "Well, what about O.B.D?"
And so we are posed with the same question, "What about O.B.D?" Someone left a comment on my blog asking me if I thought O.B.D's story was relevant to today. Indeed I do. While I chose this story because of it's dramatic nature, the fact is that O.B.D. is only one of many, many people who have been set free instantaneously from addiction by the power of God. My old youth leader was one of those people - a drug pusher and an addict - he's squeaky clean without a craving to this day, and it's been aprx. 20 years since the miracle. Talking with mission workers, they have told me how alcoholics have staggered into the mission and up to the altar where they found that the same God who set O.B.D free could set them free, too - in many cases, while they prayed they became completely sober, even to having the smell of booze vanish from them. Other names come to mind, such as Nicky Cruz, Reginald Arvizu, a.k.a, Fieldy, Brian "Head" Welch, etc., etc.
The question that will be asked naturally is how does one go about tapping into this incredible, transforming power. The answer is both straightforward and complex. On one hand the answer is what it has always been: repentance and faith toward God. On the other hand, that answer is the most profound in the world - a lifetime worth of blogs couldn't plumb its depths. It is also to be wondered that if this power is available, why do so few experience it?
Why, indeed? There are a lot of issues connected to this topic, but I can only comment on the aspects with which I'm most familiar. Working as an inner city pastor, addiction sufferers make up the largest percentage of my small "congregation." I have discovered two facts when counselling these dear folks. Invariably, it is either one, or the other, or both of these facts which are the rock they stumble upon when they ask for help.
1: They are not determined to find God. O.B.D. you may recall said he was "determined" to find God. We live in a world that has become very apathetic toward God, largely due to the fact that we don't really have a healthy fear/respect for Him. We do not fear eternity without Him enough to seek Him until we find Him. God has promised that we will find Him when we seek Him with all our heart. If you cannot find him, you can be certain it is not He Who has failed to keep His side of the bargain. It is a weird, but terrible fact, that addicts may hate their addiction, but they do not hate it as much as they love it, as someone has so wisely stated.
2: They are not willing to fully surrender their life to God. If you want God to fix your broken toy, you must give Him all the pieces. You see, the addict is not merely an addict: he is a sinner, and, in his life, he has other sins beside his addiction - what's more, his addiction is almost always a result of sin... wanton rebellion against God. When we treat the addict as if he only has a sickness, we fall short of the mark. Sick he may be, and sick he is indeed, but his will and the bad choices he makes willfully cannot be left out of the reckoning. (As one alcoholic told me, "I didn't fall off the wagon, I dove off.") An addict, as pitiful as they may be, still has to reach a place where they are willing to live by God's rules in every aspect of their life, not just with regards to booze and dope. The reason for this is that sin in any form separates us from God, and when we are separated from Him, His power is not able to operate in our lives. Therefore, only those who totally surrender their entire sin problem to God can experience freedom from the power of addiction.
As I write this, my mind strays to an article I read recently about addiction amongst the stars and celebrities, and my heart is filled with pity and compassion. The God of O.B.D hasn't changed. What He did for O.B.D, He'll do for anybody. Why not give Him the chance?
Blessings,
Pastor Chelle
His tormentor laughed along with the crowd, "Don't it smell good, daddy? Ain't beer got a lovely smell to it? You silly, old fool! Why didn't you take it inside [of you] instead of out? Come here, I'll give you another drop. I'll stand you one. You shan't have the shilling, but you shall have the beer."
"I don't want it," O.B.D replied doggedly.
Only someone who has fought with alcohol addiction can understand what a miracle it was for him not to "fall off the wagon" under such intense pressure. The smell of booze alone is enough to set an alcoholic's throat on fire with thirst; to have it on the lips is sheer torture. But such was the magnitude of the miracle that God's grace had wrought in O.B.D. At this juncture, the rest of the lads in the ale house took pity on O.B.D. When they saw his quiet firmness, they "took up a subscription" (collection) for him, and he left the place with his pockets full of money. He also left it a hero.
In the years that followed, O.B.D remained firm, never once touching a drop of liquor. He was a marvel to all that knew him. He saved up enough money so that he was able to go into business for himself. His wife and son joined the Salvation Army, but, unfortunately, due to the physical damage the booze had done to him, O.B.D. was never able to work in the Army. But, in spite of not being able to work full time for his beloved Army, he was still able to reach out to his old associates just by his living example of how God could transform the life of even such as he had been. They knew what he had been, they knew what he had become, and they knew it was God that had made the change. During O.B.D's lifetime in that neighborhood, all the barroom atheists' arguments simply melted away. Every debate ended when some bloke would ask, "Well, what about O.B.D?"
And so we are posed with the same question, "What about O.B.D?" Someone left a comment on my blog asking me if I thought O.B.D's story was relevant to today. Indeed I do. While I chose this story because of it's dramatic nature, the fact is that O.B.D. is only one of many, many people who have been set free instantaneously from addiction by the power of God. My old youth leader was one of those people - a drug pusher and an addict - he's squeaky clean without a craving to this day, and it's been aprx. 20 years since the miracle. Talking with mission workers, they have told me how alcoholics have staggered into the mission and up to the altar where they found that the same God who set O.B.D free could set them free, too - in many cases, while they prayed they became completely sober, even to having the smell of booze vanish from them. Other names come to mind, such as Nicky Cruz, Reginald Arvizu, a.k.a, Fieldy, Brian "Head" Welch, etc., etc.
The question that will be asked naturally is how does one go about tapping into this incredible, transforming power. The answer is both straightforward and complex. On one hand the answer is what it has always been: repentance and faith toward God. On the other hand, that answer is the most profound in the world - a lifetime worth of blogs couldn't plumb its depths. It is also to be wondered that if this power is available, why do so few experience it?
Why, indeed? There are a lot of issues connected to this topic, but I can only comment on the aspects with which I'm most familiar. Working as an inner city pastor, addiction sufferers make up the largest percentage of my small "congregation." I have discovered two facts when counselling these dear folks. Invariably, it is either one, or the other, or both of these facts which are the rock they stumble upon when they ask for help.
1: They are not determined to find God. O.B.D. you may recall said he was "determined" to find God. We live in a world that has become very apathetic toward God, largely due to the fact that we don't really have a healthy fear/respect for Him. We do not fear eternity without Him enough to seek Him until we find Him. God has promised that we will find Him when we seek Him with all our heart. If you cannot find him, you can be certain it is not He Who has failed to keep His side of the bargain. It is a weird, but terrible fact, that addicts may hate their addiction, but they do not hate it as much as they love it, as someone has so wisely stated.
2: They are not willing to fully surrender their life to God. If you want God to fix your broken toy, you must give Him all the pieces. You see, the addict is not merely an addict: he is a sinner, and, in his life, he has other sins beside his addiction - what's more, his addiction is almost always a result of sin... wanton rebellion against God. When we treat the addict as if he only has a sickness, we fall short of the mark. Sick he may be, and sick he is indeed, but his will and the bad choices he makes willfully cannot be left out of the reckoning. (As one alcoholic told me, "I didn't fall off the wagon, I dove off.") An addict, as pitiful as they may be, still has to reach a place where they are willing to live by God's rules in every aspect of their life, not just with regards to booze and dope. The reason for this is that sin in any form separates us from God, and when we are separated from Him, His power is not able to operate in our lives. Therefore, only those who totally surrender their entire sin problem to God can experience freedom from the power of addiction.
As I write this, my mind strays to an article I read recently about addiction amongst the stars and celebrities, and my heart is filled with pity and compassion. The God of O.B.D hasn't changed. What He did for O.B.D, He'll do for anybody. Why not give Him the chance?
Blessings,
Pastor Chelle
Sunday, July 5, 2009
O.B.D. 2
In its day, the Salvation Army, or the Sally Ann, as it is affectionately called, has reached countless people with the message of the gospel, and has had the satisfaction of seeing many people experience complete life and soul transformation as a result of their efforts. One of those people was a man known as the Puncher, a notorious prize fighter (bare knuckle) and drunk.
It was the Puncher's idea to have revival meetings in London's East Side - he and other men equally infamous, but now redeemed, decided to have a parade with themselves as the spectacle to lure in the crowds. Since they had been so well-known in their past lives of debauchery, they knew people would take the bait if for no other reason then burning curiosity. You needn't think this was an easy thing for any of them to do. They feared the threat of the mob, and for the safety of their families (in the early days of the Salvation Army, it was as common to take a brick to the head as to see a penitent kneel at the drumhead).
But as the Puncher said, "God has done a lot for us, we oughten't to mind doing a bit for Him."
So, they did it - they paraded through the worst streets of the East Side. The parade drew a crowd to the meeting hall, and in that crowd was O.B.D. and his wife, who had actually already been invited to the meeting by the Angel Adjutant. At the service, those former toughs all gave their testimonies - testimonies of their sinful past lives and how God had miraculously changed them. One of those toughs was a man simply known as Joe, the Criminal, a hardened thief of the first order.
When the service was over, the altar, or penitent form, was crowded with seekers. O.B.D. and his wife were among them. The Angel Adjutant went over to him as he knelt there weeping. All he could say through his tears was, "Oh, I want to be like Joe!"
And he got his prayer answered. He later told the Angel Adjutant, "While I was listening to Joe, thinking of what he's been, and seeing what he's become, all of a sudden it took me that I'd find God and get Him to make me like Joe. It took me like that. I just felt, all of a sudden, determined to find God. Determined! And," he continued, "while I was kneeling, while I was praying, I felt the Spirit of God come upon me. I said, 'Oh, God, make me like Joe!' and while I prayed, I felt the spirit come upon me. I knew I could become like Joe. I know I'm saved."
He was quite emphatic. But, the Adjutant, knowing his condition, how saturated his body was with booze, feared for the stability of his salvation. She was very anxious for him to get work other than the work he did delivering papers to the local pubs and taverns. O.B.D.'s wife, who had also gotten saved that night, was also concerned for her husband. O.B.D, however, proved decidedly stubborn.
"I don't want anything else," he told them, "I must show them that I am converted."
And show them he did. In the weeks ahead, O.B.D stuck to his guns, and whenever the Adjutant asked him if he felt the least bit tempted, he would simply reply, "The appetite has gone."
One Saturday afternoon, O.B.D went to deliver his papers to a very crowded ale-house. One of his old drinking buddies saw him and exclaimed, "Hullo, God strike me dead, if this isn't Old Born Drunk! Come here, daddy; I'll stand you a pot. We'll wet the Salvation Army!" When the pot of ale was brought, he shoved it toward O.B.D., "Here, drink you old----!"
O.B.D shook his head.
"Come, drink it, like a man! What's a pot to you? Gallons is your mark. Drink it!"
"No."
"Look here, daddy; you're poor aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Got the missus and the kid to feed?"
"Yes."
"A bob'd make a lot of difference to you, wouldn't it? See here, daddy; I'll give you a bob straight, I will - ah, honor bright - if you'll drink this pot. Smell it. Smell it, old ----. Ain't it good? Come along, drink it and earn a bob.
"Not me."
"You won't?"
"No."
"Not for a bob?"
"Not for a thousands."
"You mean it?"
"Yes."
"Then have it outside," and with that the mocker threw the whole pot of beer into O.B.D's face.
To be continued...
(Don't you just love me? ;-D )
It was the Puncher's idea to have revival meetings in London's East Side - he and other men equally infamous, but now redeemed, decided to have a parade with themselves as the spectacle to lure in the crowds. Since they had been so well-known in their past lives of debauchery, they knew people would take the bait if for no other reason then burning curiosity. You needn't think this was an easy thing for any of them to do. They feared the threat of the mob, and for the safety of their families (in the early days of the Salvation Army, it was as common to take a brick to the head as to see a penitent kneel at the drumhead).
But as the Puncher said, "God has done a lot for us, we oughten't to mind doing a bit for Him."
So, they did it - they paraded through the worst streets of the East Side. The parade drew a crowd to the meeting hall, and in that crowd was O.B.D. and his wife, who had actually already been invited to the meeting by the Angel Adjutant. At the service, those former toughs all gave their testimonies - testimonies of their sinful past lives and how God had miraculously changed them. One of those toughs was a man simply known as Joe, the Criminal, a hardened thief of the first order.
When the service was over, the altar, or penitent form, was crowded with seekers. O.B.D. and his wife were among them. The Angel Adjutant went over to him as he knelt there weeping. All he could say through his tears was, "Oh, I want to be like Joe!"
And he got his prayer answered. He later told the Angel Adjutant, "While I was listening to Joe, thinking of what he's been, and seeing what he's become, all of a sudden it took me that I'd find God and get Him to make me like Joe. It took me like that. I just felt, all of a sudden, determined to find God. Determined! And," he continued, "while I was kneeling, while I was praying, I felt the Spirit of God come upon me. I said, 'Oh, God, make me like Joe!' and while I prayed, I felt the spirit come upon me. I knew I could become like Joe. I know I'm saved."
He was quite emphatic. But, the Adjutant, knowing his condition, how saturated his body was with booze, feared for the stability of his salvation. She was very anxious for him to get work other than the work he did delivering papers to the local pubs and taverns. O.B.D.'s wife, who had also gotten saved that night, was also concerned for her husband. O.B.D, however, proved decidedly stubborn.
"I don't want anything else," he told them, "I must show them that I am converted."
And show them he did. In the weeks ahead, O.B.D stuck to his guns, and whenever the Adjutant asked him if he felt the least bit tempted, he would simply reply, "The appetite has gone."
One Saturday afternoon, O.B.D went to deliver his papers to a very crowded ale-house. One of his old drinking buddies saw him and exclaimed, "Hullo, God strike me dead, if this isn't Old Born Drunk! Come here, daddy; I'll stand you a pot. We'll wet the Salvation Army!" When the pot of ale was brought, he shoved it toward O.B.D., "Here, drink you old----!"
O.B.D shook his head.
"Come, drink it, like a man! What's a pot to you? Gallons is your mark. Drink it!"
"No."
"Look here, daddy; you're poor aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Got the missus and the kid to feed?"
"Yes."
"A bob'd make a lot of difference to you, wouldn't it? See here, daddy; I'll give you a bob straight, I will - ah, honor bright - if you'll drink this pot. Smell it. Smell it, old ----. Ain't it good? Come along, drink it and earn a bob.
"Not me."
"You won't?"
"No."
"Not for a bob?"
"Not for a thousands."
"You mean it?"
"Yes."
"Then have it outside," and with that the mocker threw the whole pot of beer into O.B.D's face.
To be continued...
(Don't you just love me? ;-D )
Thursday, July 2, 2009
O.B.D.
His name was O.B.D. He had no other name. He lived and died with that name. Old Born Drunk.
In the next blog to two, I would like to share with you the remarkable, true story of Old Born Drunk, a story that appears in a classic book titled, Twice Born Men. It was authored by Harold Begbie; published in 1909. The purpose of the book was to showcase twelve men whose lives had been radically transformed by God's power during the early days of the Salvation Army. My purpose for sharing it on this blog is to offer hope to those artists, celebrities and stars who are struggling with addiction. In some ways, the stars of Hollywood will have nothing in common with O.B.D, but if anybody, regardless of social status, is struggling with addiction, this story will assure them no matter how bad their problem is, there is hope and help in God.
A couple words before we start: in order to avoid garnering glory for any one individual other than God, the entirety of the book Twice Born Men was written using only nom de plums, monikers, and titles of affection. Old Born Drunk was the only exception, because, as I understand it, he had already passed away before the book was published. Secondly, I am rewriting the story in my own words since the original is written in very archaic vocabulary.
Now, let us begin.
General William Booth, founder of the Salvation Army, had a motto: "Go for sinners, and go for the worst." In keeping with the spirit of that directive, a twenty-four year old girl went to work in London's notorious East Side. Because of her faithful and loving work with the lowest of the low, she became known as the Angel Adjutant. One day someone brought to her attention the man known as O.B.D, and suggested maybe she should try her hand at helping him. She agreed to the suggestion. However, when she actually met O.B.D, she seriously wondered if anything could be done for him.
O.B.D. lived up to his name. He had literally been born drunk. His parents had been hopeless alcoholics, and had taught him to drink from infancy. Perhaps he had what we would term in our society as Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, and there is a possibility he was partially brain dead, for he had a stupefied, soulless stare that never entirely left him all his days. He stunk beyond description, and his body was misshapen and short. His eyes were horribly swollen to mere slits.
But the Angel Adjutant was a game little lass, and she befriended O.B.D, though she never could be sure if he understood a thing she was saying to him. Finally, one day she made him understand that she wanted to visit his home, and he gave her his address.
To her utter amazement, she discovered that he was not only married, but had a son. More amazingly still was that neither his wife nor his son were alcoholics, though his wife did seem to have some issues - whether mentally or emotionally is undetermined. They lived in unspeakable squallor in a small, one roomed "house" that they rented for seven shillings a week. The room was filled with cats, guinea pigs, dogs, doves, and rabbits - their son's pets, even though he was not at home to enjoy them. In some miraculous way, they had contrived to find and keep him in a good "situation."
Through the kind and patient perseverence of the Angel Adjutant, O.B.D. and his wife began to come to service at the Salvation Army corp, but nothing seemed to be making any impression or to be having any effect on them. Both O.B.D and his wife were convinced that there was no hope for O.B.D, that he could not live without booze. Even the Angel Adjutant's fellow officers in the corp really wondered if perhaps O.B.D. and his wife were beyond help.
But that was before the revival meetings came to London's East side....
To be continued.
In the next blog to two, I would like to share with you the remarkable, true story of Old Born Drunk, a story that appears in a classic book titled, Twice Born Men. It was authored by Harold Begbie; published in 1909. The purpose of the book was to showcase twelve men whose lives had been radically transformed by God's power during the early days of the Salvation Army. My purpose for sharing it on this blog is to offer hope to those artists, celebrities and stars who are struggling with addiction. In some ways, the stars of Hollywood will have nothing in common with O.B.D, but if anybody, regardless of social status, is struggling with addiction, this story will assure them no matter how bad their problem is, there is hope and help in God.
A couple words before we start: in order to avoid garnering glory for any one individual other than God, the entirety of the book Twice Born Men was written using only nom de plums, monikers, and titles of affection. Old Born Drunk was the only exception, because, as I understand it, he had already passed away before the book was published. Secondly, I am rewriting the story in my own words since the original is written in very archaic vocabulary.
Now, let us begin.
General William Booth, founder of the Salvation Army, had a motto: "Go for sinners, and go for the worst." In keeping with the spirit of that directive, a twenty-four year old girl went to work in London's notorious East Side. Because of her faithful and loving work with the lowest of the low, she became known as the Angel Adjutant. One day someone brought to her attention the man known as O.B.D, and suggested maybe she should try her hand at helping him. She agreed to the suggestion. However, when she actually met O.B.D, she seriously wondered if anything could be done for him.
O.B.D. lived up to his name. He had literally been born drunk. His parents had been hopeless alcoholics, and had taught him to drink from infancy. Perhaps he had what we would term in our society as Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, and there is a possibility he was partially brain dead, for he had a stupefied, soulless stare that never entirely left him all his days. He stunk beyond description, and his body was misshapen and short. His eyes were horribly swollen to mere slits.
But the Angel Adjutant was a game little lass, and she befriended O.B.D, though she never could be sure if he understood a thing she was saying to him. Finally, one day she made him understand that she wanted to visit his home, and he gave her his address.
To her utter amazement, she discovered that he was not only married, but had a son. More amazingly still was that neither his wife nor his son were alcoholics, though his wife did seem to have some issues - whether mentally or emotionally is undetermined. They lived in unspeakable squallor in a small, one roomed "house" that they rented for seven shillings a week. The room was filled with cats, guinea pigs, dogs, doves, and rabbits - their son's pets, even though he was not at home to enjoy them. In some miraculous way, they had contrived to find and keep him in a good "situation."
Through the kind and patient perseverence of the Angel Adjutant, O.B.D. and his wife began to come to service at the Salvation Army corp, but nothing seemed to be making any impression or to be having any effect on them. Both O.B.D and his wife were convinced that there was no hope for O.B.D, that he could not live without booze. Even the Angel Adjutant's fellow officers in the corp really wondered if perhaps O.B.D. and his wife were beyond help.
But that was before the revival meetings came to London's East side....
To be continued.
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