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  • November 30, 1999

Archives For November 30, 1999

Yard work is terrible, but God is good

Meredith Flynn —  August 20, 2012

HEARTLAND | Meredith Flynn

Just when I thought I’d gotten them all…

Do household chores ever teach you lessons? Mine do. Especially the ones I don’t do very often or very well, and as a newlywed and new homeowner, that’s almost everything.

For instance, I just spent two years hours weeding the yard. A summer’s worth of busy weekends coupled with Central Illinois’ desert-like conditions have left us living on a brown, scratchy rectangle of something that used to be grass, I think. Nothing has grown for months – except weeds. Tall, scraggly, thorny and thriving. I told myself I’d spend an hour pulling as many as I could.

And for a few minutes, it went well. I felt hearty and worthwhile, like a real Midwesterner working her land. But it all went south when I looked around and realized it looked the same as it had 20 minutes ago. I quickly spiraled into this cycle: see a weed (“this is bad”), bend down to pull it (“this is really bad”), somewhat successfully get it out of the ground (“well, OK, that was a good one), see the next one (“this is bad”).

I went on like that for a few minutes before an even more dangerous thought crept into my head: How did we ever let it get this bad?

You know where I’m going with this. I knew it right there in the yard. My morning of manual labor runs pretty parallel to my spiritual life (and maybe yours too). We see something we don’t like, try to get rid of it, have some success in overcoming it, right before we see the next thing. And all the while, the question haunts us: How did it get this bad? Without me even knowing it? It might be one nagging sin, or a mindset, or a bad habit. But, when looked at through the lens of trying to extinguish it forever, it can be enough to send us running indoors.

And I thought about it plenty of times that morning, just turning in my work gloves and moving on to the next, hopefully easier, task. What kept me there was that God was talking. Not audibly, but the lesson was clear, and here’s what He was saying: I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. Not necessarily to help you weed the yard, but as you see things in your life that shouldn’t be there, I’m here. And as you work on removing those things, I’m here. On the good days and the bad ones too. And when you see the next thing we need to work on, I’m here.

Sanctification isn’t done in an hour, as much as I wish it could be. But God is a patient and present gardener, much more patient and present than I’ll ever be. He sticks with His task of transforming us, and even lets us have a part in it. What area is He showing you that needs some work? And how is He sustaining you in the process?

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Lessons from across the Pond

Lisa Misner —  August 13, 2012
If mission team members could share Christ in London, we can share Christ here at home.

If mission team members could share Christ in London, we can share Christ here at home.

HEARTLAND | Serena Butler

One of the questions we ask of mission trip applicants is, “Why do you want to go on this trip?” Someone once asked me, “Why do you take people on mission trips?” I could provide a couple of answers. One might be to expose people to a different culture and learn that there are fellow Christ-followers living in other parts of the world. Another might be so that we can take the Gospel to a location that does not have as much access to the Gospel as we do here in the United States. Yet another is to challenge the participants to rely on God like they have never done before.

One of the purposes of our trip to London was to expose the participants to evangelism techniques they could bring home with them and use in their own community. Sometimes we are willing to try new things on a mission trip because it is all a part of the adventure. We will stand in a busy train station and ask people if they are willing to take a survey, with the goal of leading them into a spiritual conversation, but we would not do that at home. Would we transform our sanctuary into a coffee-house for the purpose of reaching out to our community and walk every street in our town to personally invite each resident to attend that coffee-house? I don’t know, but I know the members of Southfields Baptist Church did that in preparation for the London Olympics. I was challenged by their determination.

Southfields Church is just a 15-minute walk from the front gates of the All England Lawn Tennis Club, home to Wimbledon. It is also a stone’s throw from the main Tube (London’s subway) station nearest the tennis site. For years the church never thought to minister to the visitors to Wimbledon, until the Olympics came to town. It gave them a new perspective and drive. Now, after the success of the Big Screen Olympic Lounge, they’re planning to provide the same outreach each year during the Wimbledon Championships. So, what can we learn from our friends from across the Pond?

Will the Olympics come to Clinton, Illinois? Probably not. But Clinton is home to the Pork and Apple Festival each year. Thousands of people come each year to Morton to catapult a pumpkin through the air. Millions visit the State Fairs in Springfield and Du Quoin. Many of our communities host yearly events that draw people from nearby towns.  What can your church do to creatively reach those people? Will it take work? Absolutely!! Will the work be worth it? If the gospel is shared and Christ’s love is made known … definitely, positively, YES!!!

I have challenged the London team to put into practice here at home what they learned there.

If they can start a spiritual conversation on an underground ride through the city, then they can start one with a co-worker. God will give us the strength to overcome our fears and take the first step. Then we just have to keep taking steps forward and follow the leading of the Holy Spirit wherever He leads.

A mission trip should not end when we come back home. The mission trip should be the first step in a new chapter in our life that teaches and trains us to re-evaluate how we are ministering and sharing the Gospel at home. May we be as bold and creative as our British friends who strove to share the Gospel with the world when it came to their city.

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When God says no

Meredith Flynn —  August 6, 2012

HEARTLAND | Meredith Flynn

Have you ever run across something in Scripture that you’re pretty sure wasn’t in there before? Like maybe it’s new since the last time you read that particular book? I know the Word of God is a two-edged sword, and dynamic in the ways it applies to our lives depending on the season, but I recently ran across a story that was completely new to me.

It’s in Deuteronomy, when Moses is reviewing with the Israelites all that God has done for them. He takes them through their history, pausing for this one moment of personal reflection:

“And I pleaded with the Lord at that time, saying, ‘O Lord God, you have only begun to show your servant your greatness and your mighty hand. For what god is there in heaven or on earth who can do such works and mighty acts as yours? Please let me go over and see the good land beyond the Jordan, that good hill country and Lebanon.’

But the Lord was angry with me because of your and would not listen to me. And the Lord said to me, ‘Enough from you; do not speak to me of this matter again. Go up to the top of Pisgah and life up your eyes westward and northward and southward and eastward, and look at it with your eyes, for you shall not go over this Jordan.'” (Deuteronomy 26: 23-27, ESV)

How disappointed Moses must have been. Not only does God say no, He closes the subject – forever. This is Moses’ last request, after a lifetime of service to God’s people, and the answer is still no. I can think of three possible (and probable) responses:

1. What he could have done: Go and die, probably in bitterness. I imagine the disappointment was heartbreaking, and Moses was at the end of his life anyway. He could have let it end with God’s no.

2. What I probably would have done: Kept on going, but without the energy and purpose I had before. How easy is it to do just that? To meet disappointment, be disappointed by it, and then call yourself moving on, but all the while you’re still wallowing in it.

3. What Moses did do: In the very next breath (well, the beginning of the next chapter), Moses completely changes his posture. After this very personal confession about his conversation with God, he’s back as the authoritative, instructive leader of the people:

“And now, O Israel, listen to the statutes and the rulesthat I am teaching you, and do them, that you may live, and go in and take possession of the land that the Lord, the God of your fathers, is giving you.” (Deuteronomy 4:1, ESV)

How incredible is it that Moses is able to muster that reaction? Granted, we can’t quite tell from the text when all of these small events and conversations happened in relation to one another, so it could have been a while since the initial disappointment of God saying no. But still, he has just described a wrenching moment, when he asked God for the thing he wanted most and was denied it. And still, God is good, and Moses knows the people’s best course of action is to follow the plan He’s laid out for them.

When I run into disappointment, I want that reaction. And I think it starts with a knowledge and a remembering of how God has forgiven and redeemed before. Moses had seen God love and renew and forgive His people (and then do all of those things over and over again), and he also understood how God had forgiven him personally. So that even when God said no, Moses trusted Him enough to move forward. With Him.

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Passing the torch

Meredith Flynn —  July 30, 2012

HEARTLAND | Serena Butler

If you watched the Opening Ceremony of the 2012 London Olympics (and stayed up long enough to see the lighting of the Olympic Flame), you saw a brilliant depiction of “passing on the torch.” Seven well-known British athletes passed their torches to seven young athletes they had selected, each of whom has shown promise in their particular sport. Then all seven of the younger athletes, in unison, lit the Olympic Flame.

I can only imagine the excitement that these young people felt as they took the fire and raised it in the air. It was a wonderful picture of one generation passing on responsibility to a younger one.

I’ve seen a similar picture – except without torches – during our time in London. At times, our “missions veterans” are modeling ministry, and other times, they’re sitting back and letting the younger team members take the lead.

We stood at the Tube stop near Southfields Church on Sunday, handing out information about the TV Lounge the church is hosting during the Games. One of the younger team members came over to me and said, “I’m not very good at this. You are good.” I told her that it came with years of practice and learning to step out of my comfort zone. I learned by watching others and deciding to take a chance and try it myself.

I’ve heard a lot of devotions and sermons about “passing the torch,” but it’s clearer to me now after watching this team. (And forgive me for the sports analogy, but we are the Olympics, after all). If you’re in a relay race and you have completed your leg, your job is to cheer on your teammates. You don’t run after them and take the baton back. You don’t dive back into the pool and swim another lap. You’ve done all you can do, and have passed the responsibility on to someone else. You’re job is to encourage from the sidelines.

There’s a lesson for those waiting for their leg of the race, too. Be prepared to do your part. Cheer on your team members, but be poised to jump in when it’s your turn.

No matter our age, we probably go back and forth between these two positions all our lives. Somewhere, someone needs us to be a model of ministry, ready to show them what to do and then encourage as they take the lead. But there’s also someone waiting to pass the torch to us.

Do you have someone you’re preparing to receive the torch? And what are you doing to be ready to receive the torch from someone else? The race isn’t over until Jesus returns. Keep running the race and passing the torch until that day comes.

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A new branch on an old tree

Meredith Flynn —  July 23, 2012

HEARTLAND | Lisa Sergent

I’m amazed and even jealous when I hear people talk about their family’s Christian heritage. They recall learning about Jesus from their grandmother, hearing about their great-grandfather’s dedication to tithing as a child, and listening as their father led Bible study each evening before they went to bed. Others talk about holding Sunday morning services at family reunions. Their children are raised in church and make professions of faith before they are out of elementary school. All of their family members know Christ.

My family doesn’t have a rich Christian heritage. I didn’t grow up in a bad home; my parents were and still are very loving and, I believe, quite wonderful. I am blessed to call them my mom and dad. I just didn’t grow up surrounded by a Christian family.

My father’s parents were not Christians, but thought if they were “good” people they would go to heaven. My mother’s parents argued about religion from the very start of their marriage, he being Catholic and she, a member of the Christian Church. Because of their arguments my mother and her sister were not allowed to go to church. They rarely if ever talked about God in the home.

Thankfully, my branch of our family tree “branched out” from tradition. My mom became a Christian shortly after I was born, and my father when I was 12. (I met Christ three years earlier). My brother and sister came to believe in Him, too. But many of our family members still don’t know Him.

I have one relative who dismissively calls the story of Noah and the flood, “that old myth.” Another steadfastly maintains, “As long was we are good, God will send us all to heaven.” My heart aches for my paternal grandfather who died without making a commitment to Christ (to our knowledge).

So, with my parent’s generation, my family is just beginning to start its Christian heritage. Now, I see my parents teaching my nephews and niece about Jesus. I listen as they sing songs about Him and are eager to pray. My sister-in-law became a Christian after their first child was born and joins my brother in raising their children in church. My brother-in-law knows Christ, and I married a wonderful Christian man. It is my hope that my nephews and niece will one day have their own children who will reap the joy of being part of a Christian family and become Christians themselves.

If you are a product of a Christian heritage – rejoice and thank God for that heritage. Pray for new Christians and those Christians who do not have such a heritage and that they will be start of generations of their family living for Christ.

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Following the buffalo

Meredith Flynn —  July 16, 2012

HEARTLAND | Nate Adams

Since reading Robert Lewis’s book “Raising Modern Day Knights” several years ago, I’ve been taking father-son trips with each of our three sons – before high school, after high school, and after college. Our youngest son Ethan graduated from high school in June, and so last week we set out for Yellowstone National Park in northwest Wyoming – the first trip there for either of us.

Yellowstone offers many amazing sights and experiences, but common to most of them, at least in mid-summer, is the chore of managing long lines of people, cars, RV’s and buses. The speed limit throughout the park’s 300 miles of roads is 45 mph, so you learn to just take it slow, and patiently wait when a long line of brake lights brings you to a stop.

That’s what happened to us the afternoon this video was taken. The cars ahead of us came to a stop, and as I leaned out the driver’s side window to see what was causing the delay, this is what I saw:

Yellowstone is almost “other worldly,” with its steaming volcanic features and its geysers and its wildlife that roam the paved roadways as routinely as they do the open prairie or mountainsides. We bring our man-made, motorized, technological world into that natural setting and then marvel when it doesn’t seem to need them, or us, to live simply and beautifully.

I wonder if that’s what it was like for the people of Jesus’ day, whether it was a rich young ruler, or a blind man, or a would-be disciple. When Jesus first walked into their world, He seemed surprising and out of place, yet amazing and miraculous and intriguing at the same time.

The more they watched Him, the more they realized He had not walked into their world, but they were living in His. Like the buffalo in this video, he calmly walked in the opposite direction, while everyone stopped and took notice. They could turn and follow Him, or continue their life journey in the opposite direction, without Him.

In Yellowstone, it was safest for us to simply take a picture, roll up the window, and move on down the highway with everyone else. But a small part of me wonders what would have happened if we had abandoned our car and our gadgets, and just followed the buffalo wherever it was going.

Nate Adams is executive director of the Illinois Baptist State Association.

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Are you just too much?

Meredith Flynn —  July 9, 2012
Not Meredith's closet

Not Meredith’s closet

HEARTLAND | Meredith Flynn

There’s a line in “Gidget” (the movie version with Sandra Dee, not the Sally Field TV show) that I love. Moondoggie, the surfer boy Gidget pines over, finally gets fed up with her antics and spats, “Do you know what your problem is?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before telling her:

“You’re just too much!”

It’s a fun scene and a silly line (and makes me long for the day when that was the worst insult you could hurl at someone), but lately, it’s had a lot of resonance in my life. Because I, with my full garage, storage shed, and four closets, am too much. Or at least, I have too much.

And I blame Jen Hatmaker for making me realize it. You may have seen her book “7” or read a recent review of it in the Illinois Baptist. It’s a great book, and worth your time, but read with caution because I promise you, everywhere you look, you’ll see areas where you’re living in excess. Let me confess (a few of) mine to you:

  1. At any given time, there are five to seven almost-empty cereal boxes in the pantry. (Rather than eat the “gravel” at the bottom of the box, I just buy a new one.)
  2. I have never met a cardigan sweater I didn’t need.
  3. I find it much easier to spend an hour looking up recipes I will never make on Pinterest than to read my Bible for a half hour.

Book "7"If pressed, I probably would have described each of these things as bad habits. But I didn’t see them as part of a spiritual problem (except for that last one). The basic premise of “7” is that we often need to downsize our “stuff” to receive more of what God wants for us.

The book chronicles the Hatmaker family’s efforts to simplify their lives in seven areas: food, clothing, possessions, spending, media, waste and stress. While I wouldn’t have diagnosed myself as “excessive” in any of those categories, I had felt the dullness Hatmaker writes about:

  • I talk about having no free time, but squander the hours I do have.
  • Even as I accumulate “stuff,” I continue to compare myself to others who seem to have more.
  • I am often numb to the material needs of people right in front of me.

I started to realize that maybe “excess” wasn’t as extreme a word as I once thought. Maybe the warning signs were all there, in every full drawer, bursting cabinet, and hard-to-close closet. I needed, and still need, fresh eyes to see the places in my life where I am just too much.

I’m thankful for the lesson, even as I choke down this cereal gravel from the bottom of the box.

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How God removed my theological pride

Meredith Flynn —  July 2, 2012

HEARTLAND | Jim Rahtjen

Editor’s note: Reformed theology in the Southern Baptist Convention became a hot topic earlier this summer, when a group of leaders wrote a statement affirming “traditional” Southern Baptist theology. Columnist Jim Rahtjen explains how he was convicted of his own pride, and convinced that encouraging fellow ministers is more important than judging their views on secondary issues.

John answered and said, “Master, we saw someone casting out demons in Your name; and we tried to prevent him because he is not one of us.” But Jesus said to him, “Do not hinder him; for he who is not against you is for you.” Luke 9:49-50

I had no idea John’s statement and Jesus’ reply would dramatically change my life and ministry, but I’m immensely grateful it did.

I had been preaching through the book of Luke, this was the next passage. The week before, God showed me a mountain of spiritual pride in my life, and this week He would show me it was more like a mountain range.

In Luke 9, the disciples argued among themselves as to who was the greatest (a prideful game that I myself had played in my mind). John changed the subject and told Jesus of the disciples’ efforts to thwart the ministry of this man who was casting out demons but “wasn’t one of us.” Jesus told them to stop hindering him.

What a tragedy! This man had a calling he couldn’t fulfill because the disciples hindered him. The disciples had a calling of their own which they neglected in order to hinder this man.

God showed me myself in this passage when I prepared to preach it. You see, in those days, I defined myself by my theology; consequently, if a brother wasn’t of my theological persuasion, if he “wasn’t one of us,” I’d look down at him with an attitude of superiority. The Lord illustrated this to me the next week as I attended the Southern Baptist Convention.

At the convention, I saw a man who was my mentor in college. He invested deeply in my life teaching me one-on-one how to grow spiritually, have a quiet time, and study and apply the Bible to daily life. He loved Jesus, loved me, and loved to quote his favorite preacher, Charles Spurgeon. I still deeply love this man, see him as a spiritual father and seek his counsel today.

At the convention, I also ran into another mentor who invested in me as I began to serve in ministry. He taught me one-on-one how to faithfully serve as a minister and deepen my spiritual walk. He introduced me personally to Well-known theologians who began to shape my theology. He loved Jesus, loved me, and loved to quote one of his favorite preachers, Charles Spurgeon.

Because of their common investment in my life, and their mutual respect for Charles Spurgeon, I thought it would be great for them to meet. I mentioned to my first mentor that my second mentor was at the convention. I told him about some of the men to whom he had introduced me.

He bristled and asked, “Is he a Calvinist? Are YOU a Calvinist?” And over the next few days, without knowing my mentor, he made several unflattering assumptions about him based solely on a stereotype of Calvinists. I thought, “But you don’t know him. You’d love him. He’s one of us!”

The next day, when I saw my second mentor, he had same reaction in reverse. I told him about my first mentor’s appraisal of Calvinists. He bristled and said, “Oh, don’t tell me he’s an Arminian!” And then he began to make inaccurate assumptions of my mentor, based on a stereotype of Arminians. Again, I thought, “No, you’ve got him all wrong. You’d love this man. He’s a brother!”

My mind went back to the lesson from the passage I had just preached. Rather than encouraging a man, the disciples allowed their bias to get in the way. They saw him as an opponent and tried to hinder him, rather than seeing him as an ally in God’s Kingdom.

From that moment, I asked the Lord to help me to tear down that mountain of pride in my life that causes me to judge a brother by his theology rather than know and encourage him. I came to better understand what Jesus said to John: “Stop hindering him. He who’s not against you is for you.”

Jim Rahtjen is chairman of the IBSA Board of Directors.

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