Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Everyone responds to kindness. -Richard Gere
The kindness factor. Have you ever been in that situation where someone is so rude to you that you determine in your mind that you will do what is required to help that person but not an ounce more?
I was in the DMV today and there was a man standing in line in front of me that the court had apparently suspended his licence by mistake.... wooopsie. He was understandably upset and his reason for the visit to the DMV today was to get the record of the suspension removed from his driving record.
He was visibly angry and did not yell, but you could feel the disdain coming off of him. The DMV worker behind the counter, you could tell, was not going to do one bit more than was required of her.
The angrier he got, the worse her suggestions got: Can't you just delete the record, No. You could write a letter. I did write a letter. Well you could call someone, I did call someone... terrible.
Often times I have found myself in the situation where it is up to me to help someone and ultimately decide if they have to pay a bill, if they get a discount, if there service is disconnected. Although I would love to say it was super easy to treat all people the same, that would not be true. There are those people that you run into in life that have an extra dose of kindness... it is always a pleasure to help those kind of people--even bend or over backwards, maybe even break the rules.
On the other hand, there are those that are so difficult that for them to even get the minimum done in life feels like a major chore.
Here is a question, which one are you? Are you like the guy at the DMV or Mary Poppins?
Jesus called us to be salt and light in the world, there are enough difficult people. What are you doing to increase your kindness?
Monday, March 19, 2012
They Hate ME... is that a GOOD thing?
G. Campbell Morgan wrote: "If you have no adversaries, you had better move out and find the places where you get them."
Jesus Christ put is another way, "They hated me, they will hate you."
One way to gauge your effectiveness in this life is by measuring the number of enemies that you have, in Corinthians 15 Paul described his situation as ,"battling wild beasts", and "taking his life in his hands daily."
Paul was fearless when it came to preaching the gospel. He understood in a very real way that it would polarize some, it would push some away, but for many they would hear the words of eternal life and be saved! Even if he did have to gain some enemies along the way, he knew that not only was it worth it, it was his calling and it was what Jesus expected of him.
As modern day Christians living in the USA our lives can be described as comfortable and easy. Our biggest fear is having someone find out that we are a Christian and that we do go to church. And that's fine if your goal is to never be laughed at, ostracised, challenged or ridiculed -- its just not very good if we are for taking Jesus' words to heart during the Great Commission to go out and preach the gospel and make disciples in every corner of the globe.
If the church in America is going to remain relevant and make a difference in the world like we have been called to, we are going to have to get over our fear of being disliked.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Women in Church, Good or Bad?
I wanted to share this article, I found it to be very interesting! I hope you enjoy.
Pastor Willy
John Wesley: A Biography
John Wesley (1703-1791), the founder of Methodism, proves to be a biographer’s dream come true. The man was a bundle of contradictions—and what biographer does not love to portray a human life torn asunder from within, thrashing about on the stage of history? As Stephen Tomkins explains at the conclusion of his almost novelistic biography, Wesley fascinates because he embodied so many of the conflicts of his age and fused them into a life of remarkable achievement:
He combined a Catholic devotion to the sacraments of the Church with a Pentecostal welcoming of healings, ecstasies and Low Church spontaneity. He had an evangelical horror of trying to satisfy God by good works, but an even greater horror of trying to satisfy God without good works. He was a founding father of evangelicalism, but for his last twenty years, he consistently retreated from its stark certainties.
But Wesley’s contradictions were more than theological; they were personal too, especially in his relations with women. After nearly marrying twice (and leaving both women feeling jilted), Wesley eventually married Molly Vazeille, a widow of French Huguenot descent with four children of her own. The marriage was not happy—indeed, the spouses proved scarcely able to tolerate each other. When Wesley, at a Methodist conference in Bristol, got word that his wife was dangerously ill, he headed back to their London home. Arriving at their apartment at the ungodly hour of one o’clock the following morning, he discovered that her fever had abated—and he turned around and headed back to Bristol an hour later.
When Wesley suspected his wife of reading his private mail, he had his desk outfitted with a secret compartment in which to hide his sensitive papers from her. These presumably must have included portions of his famous Journal, for in one bitter letter to her he explained that his indictment of her character was incomplete because he did not have his journal with him at the moment: “I have therefore only my memory to depend on; and that is not very retentive of evil.” No surprise, then, that he did not attend her funeral, and of her own legacy of five thousand pounds (holdings from her first husband, a wealthy merchant), she bequeathed to him only a ring.
Tomkins does, however, absolve Wesley of the charge of adultery, a charge hurled at him by none other than his ultra-suspicious wife. But while always faithful to his marriage vows, Wesley, as his biographer freely admits, “suffered from a failure to discern between the romantic and pastoral, which blighted his romances and cast a shadow over his pastoring.” This was a blind spot that afflicted more than one early Methodist preacher. Perhaps the most disastrous of these philandering clerics was Westley Hall, one of Wesley’s first converts while they were both students at Oxford. Auspiciously enough, Hall married Wesley’s sister Martha; but then, after a string of seductions among his flock, he began to preach a gospel of polygamous deism and finally deserted Martha after most of her ten children had died, fleeing to the West Indies with another woman.
According to the famous twentieth-century Catholic writer, Ronald Knox, the real problem here was “enthusiasm.” But Tomkins shows that such an interpretation goes too far. The real problem was that legitimate religious enthusiasm had become too bottled up by the established church. The author recounts the rather amusing tale of one budding Quaker who quit the Church of England because, when he approached various curates and vicars about his oppressive sense of sin, he was told to go see a doctor. Such anodyne advice was clearly not for Wesley, who advocated what he called “heart-religion,” meaning “righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.” For Wesley, these fruits of the spirit must be felt, or else they have no being, and when excluded from the devout life religion becomes but a “dry, dead carcass.”
All well and good, and no one doubts that the enthusiasm that greeted Wesley’s sermons owed at least something to the starved condition of souls planted in the fallow soil of a desiccated, established Christianity. Unfortunately, enthusiasm sometimes bursts its own bounds, especially when sexual energy gets commingled with spiritual fervor. But of the authenticity of the fervor, both in Wesley and in most Methodists, there can be no doubt. “At fairly sober estimates,” Tomkins writes, Wesley “rode 250,000 miles, gave away 30,000 pounds, . . . and preached more than 40,000 sermons,” while the published version of his Journal ran to over twenty volumes. Moreover, under his influence England became, in all its classes and throughout the land, a thoroughly Christian nation, so much so that nonconformists grew from six percent of churchgoers in Wesley’s youth to over 45 percent by 1851.
Most remarkably, much of this growth came from the zeal of just this one man, and yet Wesley never seems to have attained the inner peace that was the goal of his entire adult life. In perhaps the most astonishing passage in this riveting book, Tomkins quotes John writing to his brother Charles in these stark words: “I do not love God. I never did. Therefore I never believed, in the Christian sense of the word. Therefore I am only an honest heathen.” But unlike similar-sounding crises of faith in later times, this did not cause Wesley to despair of his mission: “And yet I dare not preach otherwise than I do, either concerning faith, or love, or justification, or perfection . . . I want all the world to come to what I do not know.”
Without quite saying so explicitly, Tomkins implies that Wesley’s dilemma, expressed so poignantly here, came from an unresolved tension located in the Christian religion itself, above all in the still unresolved interpretation of the letters of St. Paul regarding justification and sanctification. While fully admitting that salvation is pure gift (in fact his early preaching was entirely premised on this foundational Reformation doctrine), Wesley also knew that static, untransforming faith was valueless; and so he came to advocate his most distinctive doctrine, claiming—against St. Augustine, Luther, and Calvin—that perfect holiness can be attained in this life. But with such an ideal in mind, dissension was bound to arise within the Methodist ranks between those who claimed such perfection and those who were all too aware of their ongoing sinfulness.
The irony of this dilemma is easy to picture, and Tomkins captures it well: “The immoderately perfect condemned ordinary Methodists as thoroughly as the Methodists condemned the ‘almost Christians’ of the Church of England, and complained of persecution from the ordinary Methodists as the ordinary Methodists did from the unregenerate Anglicans.” To make matters worse, preachers soon sprang up who began to claim that “a believer till perfect is under the curse of God and in a state of damnation.” Wesley rejected this teaching, but as Tomkins says, “he did not distance himself very much from it.” How could he? For the doctrine of perfect holiness had finally become both the wellspring and the goal of his apostolic zeal, the one doctrine that could resolve all his personal and theological tensions: “The conquest of sin, and not just its forgiveness, was what he most hoped for from his evangelical conversion.” Faith, Wesley said, was the door of religion; holiness was “religion itself.”
St. Augustine often insisted on the ineluctable sinfulness of Christians, no matter how seemingly perfect they might be. To him innate, incorrigible imperfection was one of the legacies of Adam’s sin. Original sin, he said, turned the human heart into a fomes peccati (tinderbox or powder keg of sin), operative at all times, even in the regenerate. This teaching Wesley seems never to have taken to heart, although the experience of his flock often told him of it, especially when those supposedly “perfect” saints later returned to their previous lives: “Formerly we thought,” wrote Wesley, “one saved from sin could not fall; now we know the contrary. We are surrounded with instances of those who lately experienced all that I mean by perfect. They had both the fruit of the Spirit, and the witness; but they now lost both.”
Recounting Wesley’s story this way might make it seem that he ended his life a tragic failure. But just as dissenting Christianity in England grew to encompass nearly half of English worshippers by the middle of the nineteenth century, so too Wesley’s insistence that holiness is the substance of religion (with faith but its portal) soon gave birth to the various “holiness churches,” and these later gave birth to Pentecostalism, now the fastest-growing form of Protestant Christianity in the world.
Whether Wesley himself would have counted these vast numbers of nonconforming Christians as representing “success” might be doubted, for it was never his intention to break away from the Church of England (in which, like his father Samuel and his brother Charles, he was ordained). But by the end of his days the split was becoming inevitable. Indeed, Wesley himself provoked the split (which took place only after his death) when he went ahead and ordained ministers for America. That move proved Wesley’s Rubicon, for to ordain without his bishop’s permission meant a de facto break; and we are not surprised to learn that at this point he was finally claiming that priests and bishops are the same, so that he had the authority to ordain.
How non-Methodists react to his innovations no doubt depends on their attachment to the ancient creeds and to the apostolic succession which they express. But for me the greater interest in Wesley’s life comes not from his break with Anglicanism, determinative as that was for the paths taken by American Methodism, but from the constancy and consistency of his zeal, often in the face of ferocious persecution (he escaped death several times by only the narrowest of margins, merely for preaching outdoors and to all comers). Yet he kept doggedly on, never wavering, always preaching, always writing in his journal, always on the go, always interrogating his own soul, but never on that account cooling his zeal for the gospel, which he preached in season and out. Perhaps the final word on this remarkable man can only be made by that apostle on whom he most modeled himself, St. Paul: “We are only the earthen vessels that hold this treasure,” he said in 2 Corinthians 4:7, “to prove that such an overwhelming power comes from God, not from us.”
Edward T. Oakes, S. J. is co-editor, with David Moss, of The Cambridge Companion to Hans Urs von Balthasar.
Pastor Willy
John Wesley: A Biography
Edward T. Oakes
John Wesley (1703-1791), the founder of Methodism, proves to be a biographer’s dream come true. The man was a bundle of contradictions—and what biographer does not love to portray a human life torn asunder from within, thrashing about on the stage of history? As Stephen Tomkins explains at the conclusion of his almost novelistic biography, Wesley fascinates because he embodied so many of the conflicts of his age and fused them into a life of remarkable achievement:
He combined a Catholic devotion to the sacraments of the Church with a Pentecostal welcoming of healings, ecstasies and Low Church spontaneity. He had an evangelical horror of trying to satisfy God by good works, but an even greater horror of trying to satisfy God without good works. He was a founding father of evangelicalism, but for his last twenty years, he consistently retreated from its stark certainties.
But Wesley’s contradictions were more than theological; they were personal too, especially in his relations with women. After nearly marrying twice (and leaving both women feeling jilted), Wesley eventually married Molly Vazeille, a widow of French Huguenot descent with four children of her own. The marriage was not happy—indeed, the spouses proved scarcely able to tolerate each other. When Wesley, at a Methodist conference in Bristol, got word that his wife was dangerously ill, he headed back to their London home. Arriving at their apartment at the ungodly hour of one o’clock the following morning, he discovered that her fever had abated—and he turned around and headed back to Bristol an hour later.
When Wesley suspected his wife of reading his private mail, he had his desk outfitted with a secret compartment in which to hide his sensitive papers from her. These presumably must have included portions of his famous Journal, for in one bitter letter to her he explained that his indictment of her character was incomplete because he did not have his journal with him at the moment: “I have therefore only my memory to depend on; and that is not very retentive of evil.” No surprise, then, that he did not attend her funeral, and of her own legacy of five thousand pounds (holdings from her first husband, a wealthy merchant), she bequeathed to him only a ring.
Tomkins does, however, absolve Wesley of the charge of adultery, a charge hurled at him by none other than his ultra-suspicious wife. But while always faithful to his marriage vows, Wesley, as his biographer freely admits, “suffered from a failure to discern between the romantic and pastoral, which blighted his romances and cast a shadow over his pastoring.” This was a blind spot that afflicted more than one early Methodist preacher. Perhaps the most disastrous of these philandering clerics was Westley Hall, one of Wesley’s first converts while they were both students at Oxford. Auspiciously enough, Hall married Wesley’s sister Martha; but then, after a string of seductions among his flock, he began to preach a gospel of polygamous deism and finally deserted Martha after most of her ten children had died, fleeing to the West Indies with another woman.
According to the famous twentieth-century Catholic writer, Ronald Knox, the real problem here was “enthusiasm.” But Tomkins shows that such an interpretation goes too far. The real problem was that legitimate religious enthusiasm had become too bottled up by the established church. The author recounts the rather amusing tale of one budding Quaker who quit the Church of England because, when he approached various curates and vicars about his oppressive sense of sin, he was told to go see a doctor. Such anodyne advice was clearly not for Wesley, who advocated what he called “heart-religion,” meaning “righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.” For Wesley, these fruits of the spirit must be felt, or else they have no being, and when excluded from the devout life religion becomes but a “dry, dead carcass.”
All well and good, and no one doubts that the enthusiasm that greeted Wesley’s sermons owed at least something to the starved condition of souls planted in the fallow soil of a desiccated, established Christianity. Unfortunately, enthusiasm sometimes bursts its own bounds, especially when sexual energy gets commingled with spiritual fervor. But of the authenticity of the fervor, both in Wesley and in most Methodists, there can be no doubt. “At fairly sober estimates,” Tomkins writes, Wesley “rode 250,000 miles, gave away 30,000 pounds, . . . and preached more than 40,000 sermons,” while the published version of his Journal ran to over twenty volumes. Moreover, under his influence England became, in all its classes and throughout the land, a thoroughly Christian nation, so much so that nonconformists grew from six percent of churchgoers in Wesley’s youth to over 45 percent by 1851.
Most remarkably, much of this growth came from the zeal of just this one man, and yet Wesley never seems to have attained the inner peace that was the goal of his entire adult life. In perhaps the most astonishing passage in this riveting book, Tomkins quotes John writing to his brother Charles in these stark words: “I do not love God. I never did. Therefore I never believed, in the Christian sense of the word. Therefore I am only an honest heathen.” But unlike similar-sounding crises of faith in later times, this did not cause Wesley to despair of his mission: “And yet I dare not preach otherwise than I do, either concerning faith, or love, or justification, or perfection . . . I want all the world to come to what I do not know.”
Without quite saying so explicitly, Tomkins implies that Wesley’s dilemma, expressed so poignantly here, came from an unresolved tension located in the Christian religion itself, above all in the still unresolved interpretation of the letters of St. Paul regarding justification and sanctification. While fully admitting that salvation is pure gift (in fact his early preaching was entirely premised on this foundational Reformation doctrine), Wesley also knew that static, untransforming faith was valueless; and so he came to advocate his most distinctive doctrine, claiming—against St. Augustine, Luther, and Calvin—that perfect holiness can be attained in this life. But with such an ideal in mind, dissension was bound to arise within the Methodist ranks between those who claimed such perfection and those who were all too aware of their ongoing sinfulness.
The irony of this dilemma is easy to picture, and Tomkins captures it well: “The immoderately perfect condemned ordinary Methodists as thoroughly as the Methodists condemned the ‘almost Christians’ of the Church of England, and complained of persecution from the ordinary Methodists as the ordinary Methodists did from the unregenerate Anglicans.” To make matters worse, preachers soon sprang up who began to claim that “a believer till perfect is under the curse of God and in a state of damnation.” Wesley rejected this teaching, but as Tomkins says, “he did not distance himself very much from it.” How could he? For the doctrine of perfect holiness had finally become both the wellspring and the goal of his apostolic zeal, the one doctrine that could resolve all his personal and theological tensions: “The conquest of sin, and not just its forgiveness, was what he most hoped for from his evangelical conversion.” Faith, Wesley said, was the door of religion; holiness was “religion itself.”
St. Augustine often insisted on the ineluctable sinfulness of Christians, no matter how seemingly perfect they might be. To him innate, incorrigible imperfection was one of the legacies of Adam’s sin. Original sin, he said, turned the human heart into a fomes peccati (tinderbox or powder keg of sin), operative at all times, even in the regenerate. This teaching Wesley seems never to have taken to heart, although the experience of his flock often told him of it, especially when those supposedly “perfect” saints later returned to their previous lives: “Formerly we thought,” wrote Wesley, “one saved from sin could not fall; now we know the contrary. We are surrounded with instances of those who lately experienced all that I mean by perfect. They had both the fruit of the Spirit, and the witness; but they now lost both.”
Recounting Wesley’s story this way might make it seem that he ended his life a tragic failure. But just as dissenting Christianity in England grew to encompass nearly half of English worshippers by the middle of the nineteenth century, so too Wesley’s insistence that holiness is the substance of religion (with faith but its portal) soon gave birth to the various “holiness churches,” and these later gave birth to Pentecostalism, now the fastest-growing form of Protestant Christianity in the world.
Whether Wesley himself would have counted these vast numbers of nonconforming Christians as representing “success” might be doubted, for it was never his intention to break away from the Church of England (in which, like his father Samuel and his brother Charles, he was ordained). But by the end of his days the split was becoming inevitable. Indeed, Wesley himself provoked the split (which took place only after his death) when he went ahead and ordained ministers for America. That move proved Wesley’s Rubicon, for to ordain without his bishop’s permission meant a de facto break; and we are not surprised to learn that at this point he was finally claiming that priests and bishops are the same, so that he had the authority to ordain.
How non-Methodists react to his innovations no doubt depends on their attachment to the ancient creeds and to the apostolic succession which they express. But for me the greater interest in Wesley’s life comes not from his break with Anglicanism, determinative as that was for the paths taken by American Methodism, but from the constancy and consistency of his zeal, often in the face of ferocious persecution (he escaped death several times by only the narrowest of margins, merely for preaching outdoors and to all comers). Yet he kept doggedly on, never wavering, always preaching, always writing in his journal, always on the go, always interrogating his own soul, but never on that account cooling his zeal for the gospel, which he preached in season and out. Perhaps the final word on this remarkable man can only be made by that apostle on whom he most modeled himself, St. Paul: “We are only the earthen vessels that hold this treasure,” he said in 2 Corinthians 4:7, “to prove that such an overwhelming power comes from God, not from us.”
Edward T. Oakes, S. J. is co-editor, with David Moss, of The Cambridge Companion to Hans Urs von Balthasar.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Laugh WITH your friends!
http://bible.us/Rom12.15.MSG Laugh with your happy friends when they're happy; share tears when they're down.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Kony 2012 - Heroes or Zeroes?
Kony 2012 - Is there a better way?
Group behind anti-Kony video rebuts criticism, urges public pressure
Well there certainly has been a
fire-storm of attention given as of late to the Kony 2012 campaign.
Seemingly overnight this unknown
person is known by everyone.
I've had plenty of people asking me if I’d
seen "the video".
My wife was the one that finally nailed me down and forced me to invest the half hour to watch the video.
My wife was the one that finally nailed me down and forced me to invest the half hour to watch the video.
At the end, to say the least... I
was motivated. I was ready to give money, buy a bracelet, hang a poster, etc.
etc. The only little problem was something didn't really feel right.
I noticed all the Hollywood elites
getting involved and I would be lying if I said that did not send up a red flag
for me from the start. Then I noticed Barack Obama getting praise in the video
for sending over 100 "advisers" into Uganda. Now I am not one to hold
back credit where credit is due and although Obama has been one of the worst pro-choice,
anti-church, big government leaders we have ever had, (at least from a
conservative evangelical perspective) if he did something right, he deserves
recognition.
So before I went out and got a
bracelet, a poster and an Obama 2012 yard sign as shown in the video, I put on
my highly tuned, "critical thinking skills cap".
I remember about 10-12 years ago
there was a guy in our Redmond Free Methodist church that was actually
traveling to Uganda in the heat of all this, helping families rebuild. He did a
lot of good work there, he even worked directly with child soldiers and those that had been maimed or raped. But it was in thinking of this work that I realized--that
was like 10-12 years ago, could this guy still be over there, reeking terror on
Uganda?
That is what prompted a conversation
between Angel and me. I told her, "Something does not feel right".
She said, "you’re crazy, should we not help these people?”
Even though I agree we should do
everything in our power to help the helpless and hurting--that is our mandate
from God, I had doubts as to whether the mission of this group was the best
place to spend our time, talents, energy and money?
I told my wife, this feels more like
a symptom that we are treating and not the real disease. The disease in Africa
has always been the same. There is a lack of morality that has eaten away at
the country from the inside for many years and when you sit back and look at it
you begin to realize the problem is so much deeper than just child soldiers and
certainly bigger than Kony.
Let me give you 10 examples of what I
am talking about:
1.
The Aids Epidemic
2.
Genocide
3.
Blood Diamonds
4.
Child Soldiers
5.
Lack of Educational Opportunities
6.
Poor Living Conditions
7.
Starvation
8.
Malaria
9.
Corrupt Government/Leadership
10. Lack of Clean Drinking Water
10. Lack of Clean Drinking Water
In light of the list of problems,
most of which have been ongoing for decades, one has to wonder… Is making Kony
famous, (the stated goal of the campaign) really going to change anything or is
it highly irresponsible to take so many young people’s donations and put them
to a cause that is simply a band-aid on a festering, gangrene limb?
This all reminds me of the women with the issue of blood in the New Testament, remember she had spent all of her money with doctors who just treated the symptoms, It wasn't until she had an encounter with Jesus that the root of her problem was addressed!
As I thought this over and looked
more into this group, I was further disturbed by what I found:
Monday, the Better Business Bureau issued a press release
indicating that it had sent 18 letters over the course of six years to
Invisible Children in an attempt to get the non-profit to cooperate with an
official charity review. Those letters have gone unanswered, the Bureau said.
“I don’t understand their reluctance
to provide basic information,” CEO of the BBB Wise Giving Alliance H. Art
Taylor said in a statement. “The whole point of the effort is to shine the
light of truth on a terrible atrocity, and yet they seem to be reluctant to
turn that light on themselves. It’s really unfortunate, because their campaign
has the potential to inspire and galvanize millions of young activists and
future philanthropists.”
The website of Invisible Children
includes a statement about its lack of cooperation with BBB requests for
information noting that “Participation in BBB’s program is voluntary - we
[Invisible Children] are choosing to wait until we have expanded our Board of
Directors, as some questions hinge on the size of our board….”
Despite Invisible Children’s statement on its website,
the six-member board size would not be a problem with the BBB charity
standards, says Taylor. He did express concern, however, that two of the six
board members are paid staff. One of the BBB charity standards calls for no
more than 10% of the voting membership of the board to be compensated.
In addition to the BBB problem, they have stated publicly
that Charity Navigator gives them 3 0f 4 stars, however if you go to their own
website you will see that there Accountability and Transparency score is a meager
2 of 4 star rating… not so good for a non-profit organization.
In my opinion with the plethora of wonderful organizations
out there that are doing solid work to help Africa, I’m not sure why anyone
would give this group a dime… for the little money I have to give to charity I
want to make sure it is doing the most good possible.
So, rather than just complain about someone who is trying to
help and leaving you frustrated, here are a list of organizations that are well
known for using your donations to make a real difference, not just videos and
bracelets.
- Bishops’ Crisis Response Fund
- International Justice Mission
- Not For Sale
- One Day Without Shoes
- International Childcare Ministries
- Seed
- The Eden Projects
Pastor Willy
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)