A table with friends. Food. Laughter. Shared memories. Ahh, a good day!
“Do you have my keys?” I ask Joanna.
“Uh, yeah, in my purse.”
My wife believes that large purses serve a variety of positive purposes. Nothing ever needs to be in her pockets, because it’s in her purse. Nothing needs to be cluttering a counter, because it’s in her purse. If someone breaks into our house while she’s out, there will be a thousand things the thief won’t be able to steal because they’re already in her purse.
I’m not mocking her purse size selection. To do so would be quite hypocritical, because when I need something, I ask for it from her purse. Mints? Yep. Obscure gift card from two Christmases ago? Got it. Pair of scissors? Clip. Pen & paper or electronic device? Take your pick. Salt? Yep. Sip of Diet Coke? Here ya go. Microwave? Okay, she’s not carrying around small kitchen appliances, but she’s got about everything else. And, anytime I need something, I turn to her. You might say that I’ve become a large purse co-dependent. I’m encouraging and enabling her habit.
In her defense, she’s not carrying around the largest of purses seen in public places. There are some women out there toting bags voluminous enough to pack a Mini Cooper.
Got keys?
Yep . . . wanna see the whole car?
I’ve been told by a certain unnamed purse authority that the larger the purse, the smaller certain portions of the human anatomy appear. This theory is obviously accurate because some purses are so large that said portions of the human anatomy aren’t even visible.
And, any recent airport traveler has observed more than one purse with a small animal poking its coiffed, fluffy head out of the opening. This is where my wife would definitely draw the line. The only living thing she’ll ever allow into her purse is her own hand. She doesn’t even want my hand in her purse. This is her zone, her territory. She holds the exclusive zip code for this dark and mysterious land.
I’m not complaining about my limited access status. After all, it’s scary in there! I’m more than happy for her to do the digging, sleuthing and spelunking. I’m happy to be served, and I’m happy to keep my hand out of dark caverns indwelt by unidentified objects.
But back to the table of food, friends and laughter. I ask for the car keys and the rummaging begins.
“I know they’re in here somewhere,” she states with just a hint of worry.
When digging in the dark proves unsuccessful, more intense steps are taken. Large objects begin to fill the table—a wallet, a case for glasses, a 20 oz. Diet Coke—making room for more effective tunneling into yet-to-be discovered regions.
A friend teases, “This is like the journey to the center of the earth!”
As she digs deeper, one wonders whether she’s discovered another access point to Narnia. Who needs Lewis’ wardrobe? Joanna’s got a bottomless purse!
A ring of keys emerge. Wrong set. Another ring is discovered. Bingo!
More friendly banter follows. Joanna takes our teasing in good humor. She laughs from a free place…a place carved out by facing pain and loss with a desire to forgive and a confidence that God is ever working for our good and His glory.
She laughs freely and frequently these days. She’s always had a cheerful disposition, but somehow God’s work in her through the experiences of recent years has enlarged the capacity of her soul. She now carries a bigger “purse” within her. More can be discovered there than ever before: more peace, more confidence, more trust in God, more maturity, more wisdom, and yes, more laughter.
I understand the Bible to teach that there is a completion . . . a perfection . . . that comes only through suffering.
For it was fitting that he, for whom and by whom all things exist, in bringing many sons to glory, should make the founder (author) of their salvation perfect through suffering (Hebrews 2:10).
Did you catch the implication of that verse? As God’s salvation plan was worked out upon the earth, it was necessary for the Christ—the author/founder of our salvation—to Himself be perfected through suffering. Obviously, the sinless Christ had no imperfection. So, then, what does the text teach?
Christ, the perfect one, became the perfect—the ideal, the no-one-could-ever-be-better-than—Savior for people like us. It was through suffering that this perfection came about.
Our perfecting, our completion, our maturing to the place of greatest usability by God takes the same rugged pathway.
The perfecting work of suffering is not automatic, of course. Some emerge from a season of suffering sadly embittered or in such denial that they become pseudo-souls nearly blind to the world around them and almost incapable of healthy interaction.
Our response to hardship determines the outcome. The character and capacity of our souls are primarily determined by our response to suffering. People like my wife, following in the steps of the Christ, give evidence that there is true growth—a visible enlargement, an obvious increase in capacity—and greater beauty available for those willing to go through suffering with grace…
…a grace uniquely given to those in trial. (But that’s a subject for another day.)
On this day, I’m admiring her big “purse.” And for her birthday present tomorrow, I think I should get her a coal miner’s head lamp so she can more easily discover what is hidden in the deepest recesses of said accessory. Who knows what’s buried at the bottom of that thing! (Just joking. I’ve got a better gift planned than that.)
With gratitude for all of you who’ve journeyed with us,
John Stumbo
PS I’m aware that many of you have been unable to make blog comments. Bummer. Maybe in future months I’ll acquire enough time and/or insight to figure out how to fix this. In the meantime, please accept my regrets.
Wednesday, May 1. 2013
In Admiration of Large Purses (and those who have them)
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (8)
Monday, April 1. 2013
Can You Hear What I See?
Their faces stand before me: Questioning eyes. Quivering lips. Furrowed brows. Heavy heads drooping from sagging shoulders.
Once again I’ve spoken. It matters not the city: Ellensburg, San Jose, Freemont, Indianapolis . . . the settings change, but the faces are the same.
I’ve spoken of the God of abundance and drought. He’s the God of both summer and winter, sun and moon. He’s the God who knows His way through the dark. (See Psalm 74)
In fact, AW Tozer reminds us, He’s the God who has been known to do some of His best work in the darkest places. Over the darkness of an unborn world (Gen. 1:2) the Spirit of God hovers and creation in all its wonder soon appears. Into the darkness of a woman’s womb, the Christ-child comes and the world is granted a Savior. Into the darkness of an earthen tomb, the Savior’s body lies still and shrouded; yet, in the midst of the darkness, life and light arise and death’s defeat is finalized.
The God who does some of His best work in the dark . . . even in the darkness of our stories. So often the darkness is not only “out there” somewhere else in the world. The darkness seems to have silted our very souls.
And, now the faces of these souls stand before me.
Loneliness: “She was my high school sweetheart,” the rejected man tells me.
Fear: “My mother had a mastectomy and I’ve just been told I have lump as well.”
Disillusionment: “I thought it was God’s will that I married him. We were going to serve God together.”
Pain: “So much violence has entered my story.”
Weariness: “I don’t know if we can keep hanging on.”
Some take the high road.
Perseverance: “It’s been four years since I lost my job, but I get up every day and keep trying. It’ll work out somehow.”
Anticipation: “We knew of his handicap when we adopted him years ago. Maybe God will use our story to encourage others.”
Forgiveness: “I know I have to let go. I can’t hang onto this resentment anymore.”
And, sometimes the faces before me are so—well, unanticipated—that afterwards all I can do is laugh a sad-soothing-sigh kind of laugh.
“Show him the hole in your head, Ralph! Show him!”
I don’t know what to say, but my heart silently pleads, Please, Ralph, leave your hat on! Instead, Ralph does what he’s always done: exactly what his wife tells him to do and I have a 3-D visual of another example of life’s pain.
When I was a young preacher-in-training, a long time Alliance pastor taught, “Speak to people in pain and you’ll never lack for an audience.”
For my first 30 years of ministry, I knew his advice to be true, but I rarely had much opportunity to apply it. Now, with my unfolding story (I’m confident that it’s not done being written), I have abundant opportunity to address the world of pain.
And after I do, the faces stand before me.
Some desire prayer. A few desire a word of encouragement or counsel. Most simply desire to be heard.
Sometimes, the hardest part of carrying darkness in our hearts is that we feel like we carry it alone. And so, if someone will listen—even just for a few moments—and enter into that darkness, the opportunity is seized.
The last story has been told, the last book signed and the last prayer breathed, I return to my lodging or take a long, slow walk . . . but the faces stay with me.
I think I’ve learned to not carry their pain. I tried that in early ministry and it’s neither wise nor helpful. I cannot be their Savior—they have One already and He’s more than enough. But, I cannot help but be shaped by their stories.
As their images linger in my mind, I think I hear an echo from Eden. Deep, deep in the human story is a Garden. Long, long ago in our shared journey is a place planted by the hand of God Himself. The soil bloomed with rest. The air we breathed contained nothing but peace. The friendship we shared was of purest intimacy. Heads did not droop from sagging shoulders. Lips may have quivered in anticipation, but not anxiety.
We were made for the Garden. And, it is to the Garden we will return. God’s plan for this earth is not complete until all that brings soul-darkness is destroyed and the Garden of God’s planting flowers and flourishes again.
In the meantime, I assure the faces, “God’s not done writing a good story in your life. He knows His way just fine through the dark.”
Do you hear what I see? Do you hear the echo of Eden? Does something in your soul steadily remind you, This world isn’t home?
I’m honored to carry the message I’ve been granted. I’m honored to get to meet the people I meet. I’m blessed to carry their faces and stories with me. I find strength in the God who knows His way through the dark.
But, ultimately, I’m strengthened with the hope of a coming day,
For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words. (I Thes. 4:16-18 ESV)
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away . . . (Revelation 21:1)
Once again I’ve spoken. It matters not the city: Ellensburg, San Jose, Freemont, Indianapolis . . . the settings change, but the faces are the same.
I’ve spoken of the God of abundance and drought. He’s the God of both summer and winter, sun and moon. He’s the God who knows His way through the dark. (See Psalm 74)
In fact, AW Tozer reminds us, He’s the God who has been known to do some of His best work in the darkest places. Over the darkness of an unborn world (Gen. 1:2) the Spirit of God hovers and creation in all its wonder soon appears. Into the darkness of a woman’s womb, the Christ-child comes and the world is granted a Savior. Into the darkness of an earthen tomb, the Savior’s body lies still and shrouded; yet, in the midst of the darkness, life and light arise and death’s defeat is finalized.
The God who does some of His best work in the dark . . . even in the darkness of our stories. So often the darkness is not only “out there” somewhere else in the world. The darkness seems to have silted our very souls.
And, now the faces of these souls stand before me.
Loneliness: “She was my high school sweetheart,” the rejected man tells me.
Fear: “My mother had a mastectomy and I’ve just been told I have lump as well.”
Disillusionment: “I thought it was God’s will that I married him. We were going to serve God together.”
Pain: “So much violence has entered my story.”
Weariness: “I don’t know if we can keep hanging on.”
Some take the high road.
Perseverance: “It’s been four years since I lost my job, but I get up every day and keep trying. It’ll work out somehow.”
Anticipation: “We knew of his handicap when we adopted him years ago. Maybe God will use our story to encourage others.”
Forgiveness: “I know I have to let go. I can’t hang onto this resentment anymore.”
And, sometimes the faces before me are so—well, unanticipated—that afterwards all I can do is laugh a sad-soothing-sigh kind of laugh.
“Show him the hole in your head, Ralph! Show him!”
I don’t know what to say, but my heart silently pleads, Please, Ralph, leave your hat on! Instead, Ralph does what he’s always done: exactly what his wife tells him to do and I have a 3-D visual of another example of life’s pain.
When I was a young preacher-in-training, a long time Alliance pastor taught, “Speak to people in pain and you’ll never lack for an audience.”
For my first 30 years of ministry, I knew his advice to be true, but I rarely had much opportunity to apply it. Now, with my unfolding story (I’m confident that it’s not done being written), I have abundant opportunity to address the world of pain.
And after I do, the faces stand before me.
Some desire prayer. A few desire a word of encouragement or counsel. Most simply desire to be heard.
Sometimes, the hardest part of carrying darkness in our hearts is that we feel like we carry it alone. And so, if someone will listen—even just for a few moments—and enter into that darkness, the opportunity is seized.
The last story has been told, the last book signed and the last prayer breathed, I return to my lodging or take a long, slow walk . . . but the faces stay with me.
I think I’ve learned to not carry their pain. I tried that in early ministry and it’s neither wise nor helpful. I cannot be their Savior—they have One already and He’s more than enough. But, I cannot help but be shaped by their stories.
As their images linger in my mind, I think I hear an echo from Eden. Deep, deep in the human story is a Garden. Long, long ago in our shared journey is a place planted by the hand of God Himself. The soil bloomed with rest. The air we breathed contained nothing but peace. The friendship we shared was of purest intimacy. Heads did not droop from sagging shoulders. Lips may have quivered in anticipation, but not anxiety.
We were made for the Garden. And, it is to the Garden we will return. God’s plan for this earth is not complete until all that brings soul-darkness is destroyed and the Garden of God’s planting flowers and flourishes again.
In the meantime, I assure the faces, “God’s not done writing a good story in your life. He knows His way just fine through the dark.”
Do you hear what I see? Do you hear the echo of Eden? Does something in your soul steadily remind you, This world isn’t home?
I’m honored to carry the message I’ve been granted. I’m honored to get to meet the people I meet. I’m blessed to carry their faces and stories with me. I find strength in the God who knows His way through the dark.
But, ultimately, I’m strengthened with the hope of a coming day,
For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words. (I Thes. 4:16-18 ESV)
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away . . . (Revelation 21:1)
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (8)
Friday, March 1. 2013
March 2013 Update
Hey, Friends,
Many of you have been traveling this blog journey with us for 4 years now. Bless you! Our lives have been enriched because of this journey and your participation has been a continual and significant portion of that encouragement.
A Praise to Report
God’s healing hand remains on my body. I continue (quarter by quarter) to see signs of improvement. The amount of the IV infusion I receive has been reduced to 1/3 of its original quantity. May this trend continue! My stamina continues to be very good. My quality of life continues to improve. I’ve gained back all 50 pounds that I lost . . . and now need to bring to an end the era of weight gain. It was fun while it lasted! My workouts gradually improve and the hopes of someday running again seem more and more feasible.
Wow. I continue to feel like I’m living evidence of the grace of God, the answer to prayers and the mystery of His sovereign plan.
When this blog started in 2009, with feeding tube hanging from stomach, wound vacuum attached to my leg, ever-present spit rags surrounding me and weariness marking every waking hour, I said something to the effect that, “If God doesn’t heal me from this, I’m not sure how I’ll process this journey. But, if God does heal me, I’ll be among the most blessed of men to have experienced it.”
I’m not 100% healed, but I can now—humbly and happily announce—that I am indeed among the most blessed of men.
A Favor to Ask
Our second book, In the Midst: Treasures from the Dark, has now been in circulation long enough to begin to get some feedback. The emails, notes and comments we’ve received have been very encouraging. Thank you.
I’ve done almost nothing to market the book. Other opportunities (such as serving as an interim District Superintendent) have taken priority in these months. However, you could be of great help to me (as you have been in the past.) Dozens of you wrote an Amazon Review for Honest Look. Thank you!
If you’ve read In the Midst, would you consider taking ten minutes to write a review? A few words or sentences are all that is needed. I don’t even need everyone to rate it a “5”—don’t feel any obligation to do so. Honest assessments and authentic reactions are best.
In today’s world of publishing and book sales, fewer people are concerned about what company published the book and more people are interested in what reviews the book receives. It makes a difference for new authors like me. Thank you in advance for your support!
A Lesson to Learn
“Are you drunk? ARE YOU DRUNK?”
The 70-something man on the street corner was not happy with me. The more he talked the more agitated he became.
I had just pulled into a parking spot in front of our local post office. I’ll confess that my driving had been, shall we say, “aggressive”. No one else at the scene seemed to mind, but this local resident wouldn’t let it go.
“What’s the matter with you?!” he continued.
I, as of yet, had not said a word. I had exited my car, hurried around to the sagging trunk and laden back seat. I had about 14 boxes of books to ship (500 pounds) and knew that I was going to cause quite a line at the postal counter. I was in hustle mode. Oh, by the way, I had a flight to catch 100 miles away in Minneapolis.
The gray-haired local stood his post, continuing to question my behavior.
By now, I had the dolly out of the back seat and was maneuvering it over the snow-packed curb. It was obvious that he wasn’t going away until I gave him some answer.
I swallowed the first defensive response that came to mind. Kindly, the Spirit had a sweeter answer waiting for me,
“You're right, sir. I shouldn’t have made a u-turn in the middle of this street,” my voice was surprisingly controlled and quiet. Ah, Jesus can live through us.
He began to walk away, but then did a u-turn of his own and continued his redundant challenge, “Are you drunk?!”
With 150 pounds of books loaded on the dolly, an icy sidewalk to navigate and a full ramp to climb, I paused and said softly,
“No, I’m not drunk, I am in a hurry. Forgive my behavior.”
“And you’re illegally parked!” he insisted.
“Actually, sir, I’m not,” I answered with a sigh. The sign directly in front of my Camry’s hood stated that I could park there for 15 minutes. I knew I’d likely need all 15.
As I made my way up the ramp with load #1, he continued his tirade. Thankfully he was gone by the time I returned for the final loads. I had not pacified him, but at least he was gone.
The Proverbs teach us that a soft answer turns away wrath.
I learned today that sometimes the wrath that a soft answer turns away is my own. The Spirit’s soft answer thwarted my anger. Thank you, Spirit of God, for giving me an answer different than what is natural for me.
A Sense of Awe
I’ve had some moments lately when the realization was so evident, “Only God could bring this together.”
I don’t feel it appropriate to share specific details at this time, but in my temporary role as District Superintendent and in my ongoing opportunities to speak across the country, I’ve been the recipient of a rich grace. Time after time I’ve sat with fellow servants of Jesus or stood in the holy place of a church pulpit and known that “for such a time as this” I was appointed to be there.
Without human effort or manipulation and with complete credit going to Jesus, Joanna and I sense a new wind of the Spirit. The doors He’s opened, the conversations and sermons that have unfolded, the prayers released . . . it has been a sweet season. We’re enjoying it thoroughly.
Our hearts have a growing spirit of expectancy. God’s doing something new within us. We want to fully participate.
This is not as easy as I would hope. My will and understanding (“This doesn’t make sense, God!”) get in the way far too often. But, I’ve had a taste of a journey and it’s left me wanting more.
There is a direct correlation between what we’ve experienced and your prayers.
With deep gratitude,
John
PS I’m re-opening the comments section of this blog. Until nasty spammers attack again, let the conversation resume!
Many of you have been traveling this blog journey with us for 4 years now. Bless you! Our lives have been enriched because of this journey and your participation has been a continual and significant portion of that encouragement.
A Praise to Report
God’s healing hand remains on my body. I continue (quarter by quarter) to see signs of improvement. The amount of the IV infusion I receive has been reduced to 1/3 of its original quantity. May this trend continue! My stamina continues to be very good. My quality of life continues to improve. I’ve gained back all 50 pounds that I lost . . . and now need to bring to an end the era of weight gain. It was fun while it lasted! My workouts gradually improve and the hopes of someday running again seem more and more feasible.
Wow. I continue to feel like I’m living evidence of the grace of God, the answer to prayers and the mystery of His sovereign plan.
When this blog started in 2009, with feeding tube hanging from stomach, wound vacuum attached to my leg, ever-present spit rags surrounding me and weariness marking every waking hour, I said something to the effect that, “If God doesn’t heal me from this, I’m not sure how I’ll process this journey. But, if God does heal me, I’ll be among the most blessed of men to have experienced it.”
I’m not 100% healed, but I can now—humbly and happily announce—that I am indeed among the most blessed of men.
A Favor to Ask
Our second book, In the Midst: Treasures from the Dark, has now been in circulation long enough to begin to get some feedback. The emails, notes and comments we’ve received have been very encouraging. Thank you.
I’ve done almost nothing to market the book. Other opportunities (such as serving as an interim District Superintendent) have taken priority in these months. However, you could be of great help to me (as you have been in the past.) Dozens of you wrote an Amazon Review for Honest Look. Thank you!
If you’ve read In the Midst, would you consider taking ten minutes to write a review? A few words or sentences are all that is needed. I don’t even need everyone to rate it a “5”—don’t feel any obligation to do so. Honest assessments and authentic reactions are best.
In today’s world of publishing and book sales, fewer people are concerned about what company published the book and more people are interested in what reviews the book receives. It makes a difference for new authors like me. Thank you in advance for your support!
A Lesson to Learn
“Are you drunk? ARE YOU DRUNK?”
The 70-something man on the street corner was not happy with me. The more he talked the more agitated he became.
I had just pulled into a parking spot in front of our local post office. I’ll confess that my driving had been, shall we say, “aggressive”. No one else at the scene seemed to mind, but this local resident wouldn’t let it go.
“What’s the matter with you?!” he continued.
I, as of yet, had not said a word. I had exited my car, hurried around to the sagging trunk and laden back seat. I had about 14 boxes of books to ship (500 pounds) and knew that I was going to cause quite a line at the postal counter. I was in hustle mode. Oh, by the way, I had a flight to catch 100 miles away in Minneapolis.
The gray-haired local stood his post, continuing to question my behavior.
By now, I had the dolly out of the back seat and was maneuvering it over the snow-packed curb. It was obvious that he wasn’t going away until I gave him some answer.
I swallowed the first defensive response that came to mind. Kindly, the Spirit had a sweeter answer waiting for me,
“You're right, sir. I shouldn’t have made a u-turn in the middle of this street,” my voice was surprisingly controlled and quiet. Ah, Jesus can live through us.
He began to walk away, but then did a u-turn of his own and continued his redundant challenge, “Are you drunk?!”
With 150 pounds of books loaded on the dolly, an icy sidewalk to navigate and a full ramp to climb, I paused and said softly,
“No, I’m not drunk, I am in a hurry. Forgive my behavior.”
“And you’re illegally parked!” he insisted.
“Actually, sir, I’m not,” I answered with a sigh. The sign directly in front of my Camry’s hood stated that I could park there for 15 minutes. I knew I’d likely need all 15.
As I made my way up the ramp with load #1, he continued his tirade. Thankfully he was gone by the time I returned for the final loads. I had not pacified him, but at least he was gone.
The Proverbs teach us that a soft answer turns away wrath.
I learned today that sometimes the wrath that a soft answer turns away is my own. The Spirit’s soft answer thwarted my anger. Thank you, Spirit of God, for giving me an answer different than what is natural for me.
A Sense of Awe
I’ve had some moments lately when the realization was so evident, “Only God could bring this together.”
I don’t feel it appropriate to share specific details at this time, but in my temporary role as District Superintendent and in my ongoing opportunities to speak across the country, I’ve been the recipient of a rich grace. Time after time I’ve sat with fellow servants of Jesus or stood in the holy place of a church pulpit and known that “for such a time as this” I was appointed to be there.
Without human effort or manipulation and with complete credit going to Jesus, Joanna and I sense a new wind of the Spirit. The doors He’s opened, the conversations and sermons that have unfolded, the prayers released . . . it has been a sweet season. We’re enjoying it thoroughly.
Our hearts have a growing spirit of expectancy. God’s doing something new within us. We want to fully participate.
This is not as easy as I would hope. My will and understanding (“This doesn’t make sense, God!”) get in the way far too often. But, I’ve had a taste of a journey and it’s left me wanting more.
There is a direct correlation between what we’ve experienced and your prayers.
With deep gratitude,
John
PS I’m re-opening the comments section of this blog. Until nasty spammers attack again, let the conversation resume!
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (15)
Friday, February 1. 2013
A Bruising Blow
During the first year of my recovery, I received calls of encouragement from a good brother. Each time, he sympathetically said, “Dude, you were run over by a truck! You were just doing your thing, going about your life when, WHAM, you were nailed.”
I was grateful for his calls. I appreciated his support. I found his metaphor cathartic . . . at least for a while. Eventually, though, it began to wear on me. It’s discouraging to go through life seeing yourself as road kill. I soon learned the lesson that our metaphors can feel accurate but be entirely unhelpful. A good life metaphor enthuses us with energy rather than drains it.
Those of you who have read An Honest Look at a Mysterious Journey (thank you!) know the rest of the story. After months of desiring a better metaphor God gave me the sweet vision/assurance that His artistic hands were still on the clay of my life . . . and He was in the process of re-making me. My body was still very fragile, but my spirit was suddenly fortified.
To this day I believe that this is an accurate and empowering metaphor for my life. Yet, in recent weeks, God has been forming a new metaphor within me.
A Fresh Insight
We don’t have to turn in our Bibles beyond its opening chapters before we find an ancient prophecy of the Christ:
And Jehovah God said unto the serpent, "Because thou hast done this, cursed art thou above all cattle, and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of they life: and I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed: he shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel." Genesis 3:14-15 ASV
The setting, of course, is the Garden of Eden. The catastrophic has just occurred. The curse, the necessary response, is being spoken.
But in the curse is a promise. And, in the promise is a prophecy. And in the prophecy is a pattern to follow.
In the Garden of our rebellion, God promises that the Tempter—Satan—will someday receive a blow to the head. At the cross of our salvation, Jesus fulfills this prophecy as He delivers this blow. Jesus is “bruised” in the process, but Satan is the recipient of a deadly head shot.
I’ve always left the interpretation of Gen. 3:15 at the point of promise/prophecy. Today, however, I’m suggesting that perhaps the verse implies something more. I see that it has broader application. I see it as a motivating image for those of us who follow in the steps of the Christ.
Snake Fights
I’ve come to have an appreciation for snakes. However, there was a time in life when I felt it was my manly duty to rid such a creature from its slithering presence among us. I quickly discovered that you can step on a snake’s body and all you will do is anger him. The crushing blow to a snake is best applied to the head.
The ancient prophecy tells us that a bruising of a heel occurs in the bruising of a head. What picture does this imply?
Imagine a snake has slithered into your peaceful garden. It’s a garden of your own planting. It is a garden of your joy and pride. The snake has not come to merely shelter in your shade. He’s come to usurp and destroy everything you hold dear.
You enter the garden to find that his destructive work has been horrendously effective. The beauty you shaped and celebrated and loved is now marred. Your anger arises—a beautiful, passionate, righteous, justice-bringing anger. You search out your garden for the source of evil. You hunt down the wretched creature. Your anger intensifies with each indication of his destruction. You will not stop your hunt until his cowering, coiling body is found. Behind a blighted plant—once so glorious—you find him. He looks up in a mocking glare. You do not hesitate even for a moment. In your holy fury you raise your leg and with every fiber of your adrenalized muscles you bring your foot down on the serpents head.
His scaly body spasms and contorts. All the weight of your body bears down on its skull. Moments pass. The battle ends. The creature has been crushed. He lies motionless . . . defeated . . . dead. He will never raise his ugly head again.
Your strike of the serpent has come with such force that you’ve bruised your own heel in the process, but it matters not.
You are the victor. The serpent has paid the greater price. Yes, the price you have paid in the process is painful, but it’s not fatal. In fact, it could be described as satisfying.
Heel Pain
Have you ever bruised your heel? (I’m speaking literally and metaphorically right now.) It’s a very painful injury, but you won’t die from it. You’ll carry the pain with you and walk gingerly for some time. It won’t go away quickly. You’ll have frequent reminders of the battle you fought. But, if you’ve fought the serpent in the garden, with every grimace you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you’ve won a battle of cosmic significance.
You identified the presence of evil. It came to destroy all you cherish. But, evil was not allowed to rule your garden. You gave it a crushing blow. You paid a price—the pain lingers for a time—but not for a second do you regret it.
A New Metaphor
Jesus fulfilled the Genesis 3:15 prophecy at the cross, yet the fulfillment continues to this day through our lives. When we enter into His service, we enter into conflict with the enemy. There are times in this conflict that we’ll walk with the limp of a bruised heel as well. But it’s the walk of a victory processional. It’s the strange gait of one who walks in the manner of our Christ.
“Because you walked out the story in righteousness and holiness, eventually you will see that your adversary was much more wounded by your trial than you. One day you will look back on your cross and say, ‘Wow! That was intense. I really took it in the heel. But my adversary has been bloodied in the head.’” Bob Sorge in Between the Lines (page 38)
I’m happy to announce that I’m now far enough into this journey that I can see some of its fruit. I was often told, “God doesn’t waste our pain.” For the first few trial-filled years I had a hard time seeing evidence of this. Yet, now, I celebrate. I rejoice!
I’ve been bruised, but the slithering serpent in the garden is getting a serious headache.
I’ll keep “pressing on” (double meaning intended), knowing that without Christ I can do nothing and with Christ all things are possible.
Press on with me. There’s a snake in the garden. He’s already a defeated foe because of Christ’s work on the cross. The Adversaries reign of terror is coming to an end soon. We get to team up with Christ in His head crushing mission. Get your boots on.
Until The King Returns,
John
PS This blog has been hit with lots of spam comments. I’ve had to frequently delete garbage . . . something I really don’t have time to do right now. So, until I come up with a better remedy, I’m disabling the comment feature. My apologies that you won’t be able to make comments at this time. I enjoy reading them and I’ll let you know when we’re back up and running again.
I was grateful for his calls. I appreciated his support. I found his metaphor cathartic . . . at least for a while. Eventually, though, it began to wear on me. It’s discouraging to go through life seeing yourself as road kill. I soon learned the lesson that our metaphors can feel accurate but be entirely unhelpful. A good life metaphor enthuses us with energy rather than drains it.
Those of you who have read An Honest Look at a Mysterious Journey (thank you!) know the rest of the story. After months of desiring a better metaphor God gave me the sweet vision/assurance that His artistic hands were still on the clay of my life . . . and He was in the process of re-making me. My body was still very fragile, but my spirit was suddenly fortified.
To this day I believe that this is an accurate and empowering metaphor for my life. Yet, in recent weeks, God has been forming a new metaphor within me.
A Fresh Insight
We don’t have to turn in our Bibles beyond its opening chapters before we find an ancient prophecy of the Christ:
And Jehovah God said unto the serpent, "Because thou hast done this, cursed art thou above all cattle, and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of they life: and I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed: he shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel." Genesis 3:14-15 ASV
The setting, of course, is the Garden of Eden. The catastrophic has just occurred. The curse, the necessary response, is being spoken.
But in the curse is a promise. And, in the promise is a prophecy. And in the prophecy is a pattern to follow.
In the Garden of our rebellion, God promises that the Tempter—Satan—will someday receive a blow to the head. At the cross of our salvation, Jesus fulfills this prophecy as He delivers this blow. Jesus is “bruised” in the process, but Satan is the recipient of a deadly head shot.
I’ve always left the interpretation of Gen. 3:15 at the point of promise/prophecy. Today, however, I’m suggesting that perhaps the verse implies something more. I see that it has broader application. I see it as a motivating image for those of us who follow in the steps of the Christ.
Snake Fights
I’ve come to have an appreciation for snakes. However, there was a time in life when I felt it was my manly duty to rid such a creature from its slithering presence among us. I quickly discovered that you can step on a snake’s body and all you will do is anger him. The crushing blow to a snake is best applied to the head.
The ancient prophecy tells us that a bruising of a heel occurs in the bruising of a head. What picture does this imply?
Imagine a snake has slithered into your peaceful garden. It’s a garden of your own planting. It is a garden of your joy and pride. The snake has not come to merely shelter in your shade. He’s come to usurp and destroy everything you hold dear.
You enter the garden to find that his destructive work has been horrendously effective. The beauty you shaped and celebrated and loved is now marred. Your anger arises—a beautiful, passionate, righteous, justice-bringing anger. You search out your garden for the source of evil. You hunt down the wretched creature. Your anger intensifies with each indication of his destruction. You will not stop your hunt until his cowering, coiling body is found. Behind a blighted plant—once so glorious—you find him. He looks up in a mocking glare. You do not hesitate even for a moment. In your holy fury you raise your leg and with every fiber of your adrenalized muscles you bring your foot down on the serpents head.
His scaly body spasms and contorts. All the weight of your body bears down on its skull. Moments pass. The battle ends. The creature has been crushed. He lies motionless . . . defeated . . . dead. He will never raise his ugly head again.
Your strike of the serpent has come with such force that you’ve bruised your own heel in the process, but it matters not.
You are the victor. The serpent has paid the greater price. Yes, the price you have paid in the process is painful, but it’s not fatal. In fact, it could be described as satisfying.
Heel Pain
Have you ever bruised your heel? (I’m speaking literally and metaphorically right now.) It’s a very painful injury, but you won’t die from it. You’ll carry the pain with you and walk gingerly for some time. It won’t go away quickly. You’ll have frequent reminders of the battle you fought. But, if you’ve fought the serpent in the garden, with every grimace you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you’ve won a battle of cosmic significance.
You identified the presence of evil. It came to destroy all you cherish. But, evil was not allowed to rule your garden. You gave it a crushing blow. You paid a price—the pain lingers for a time—but not for a second do you regret it.
A New Metaphor
Jesus fulfilled the Genesis 3:15 prophecy at the cross, yet the fulfillment continues to this day through our lives. When we enter into His service, we enter into conflict with the enemy. There are times in this conflict that we’ll walk with the limp of a bruised heel as well. But it’s the walk of a victory processional. It’s the strange gait of one who walks in the manner of our Christ.
“Because you walked out the story in righteousness and holiness, eventually you will see that your adversary was much more wounded by your trial than you. One day you will look back on your cross and say, ‘Wow! That was intense. I really took it in the heel. But my adversary has been bloodied in the head.’” Bob Sorge in Between the Lines (page 38)
I’m happy to announce that I’m now far enough into this journey that I can see some of its fruit. I was often told, “God doesn’t waste our pain.” For the first few trial-filled years I had a hard time seeing evidence of this. Yet, now, I celebrate. I rejoice!
I’ve been bruised, but the slithering serpent in the garden is getting a serious headache.
I’ll keep “pressing on” (double meaning intended), knowing that without Christ I can do nothing and with Christ all things are possible.
Press on with me. There’s a snake in the garden. He’s already a defeated foe because of Christ’s work on the cross. The Adversaries reign of terror is coming to an end soon. We get to team up with Christ in His head crushing mission. Get your boots on.
Until The King Returns,
John
PS This blog has been hit with lots of spam comments. I’ve had to frequently delete garbage . . . something I really don’t have time to do right now. So, until I come up with a better remedy, I’m disabling the comment feature. My apologies that you won’t be able to make comments at this time. I enjoy reading them and I’ll let you know when we’re back up and running again.
Posted by John Stumbo
Tuesday, January 1. 2013
Heaven's Sweet Answer
Happy New Year, Friends.
I’m reminiscing about 2012 today: the friends I made in California (Love ya, Cornerstone!), the incredible opportunities I had to preach around the country (165 messages in 16 states, whew!) and the fantastic people I met along the way, the rewarding stories of how God has been using the first book and now good reports are coming in from readers of the second (In the Midst: Treasures from the Dark), the joy of being part of a local church here in Wisconsin (You are an encouraging family, Jacob’s Well!), a pleasant family reunion (complete with great fishing), the surprising phone call requesting that I serve as an acting District Superintendent and the even greater surprise of how much I’m enjoying the privilege, the sweet return to Salem (Life-giving. Thank you!) and to top the year off, our home remodel project was sufficiently complete for a joyful Christmas move-in (Mt. Lake crew, you are awesome and skillful servants!) and, what could be better, all of our kids came home to celebrate.
I’m blessed.
The life—the years, the strength, the joy—the “locusts” ate is being restored. Your prayers on our behalf continue to be answered. Bless you and thank you.
A Devotional Thought to End One Year and Begin Another
Didn’t someone, somewhere have to wonder?
Certainly some reflective soul looked deeply into the not-yet-polluted night sky searching, asking: What did our Creator think of us?
We had rejected His plan in the Garden. The earth’s first two offspring—two brothers—shed blood. The first death on this planet was a murder. The story—mankind’s story—does not begin well.
The ongoing chapters don’t paint a much better picture. Thankfully, occasional rays of light give hope in the darkness: Abraham believes, Moses leads, David sings, Jeremiah perseveres. But for every Abe and Dave is a Saul who serves himself, a Solomon who implodes or a Jonah who runs.
As the story unfolds, what is the God of heaven to think . . . to feel . . . to do with such a place—a race—as this?
His values—clearly communicated—are not owned by the majority. His heart ignored. His causes opposed. The poor are scorned, the vulnerable abused and the prophets killed. Wars rage back and forth across the landscape. Morals are reinvented to suit man’s most vile desires. The human population staggers from the strong drink of its own brewing: a deadly concoction of greed, lust, pride and revenge.
Would it not have been appropriate for the thinking person to conclude that God was utterly disgusted and completely done with this world? On what basis could we hope that He still had heart for a people like us?
Yet, what is heaven’s response to century after century, generation after generation of rebellion? Christmas!
Christmas is heaven’s stunning and beautiful proclamation that God loves this world . . . yes, even a world as devolved as ours. This wandering, wondering world—if she can only hear—will have the answer announced by angels and delivered through a virgin’s womb.
In a single word, heaven’s answer to the world’s question is “love.”
For God so loved the world—this broken, mean, rebellious world—that He gave us His one and only Son.
My Application
Another Christmas has come and gone. And, for some of us, the story of the Christ-child has become as ordinary and expected as another sunrise. But, today, I say, “Wow! Amazing! I wouldn’t have seen it coming. I couldn’t have written the storyline.”
What is the God of heaven’s word to this world? Love. Love, perfectly lived out in a human life so we could see what it really looks like.
As Paul, my local pastor friend, explained in a recent sermon, “Jesus, the Word, is the exact expression of what God desired to say to this world.”
My desire for 2013 is that I would leave expressions of love wherever I go. It really doesn’t matter how many sermons I preach or what titles I have or how far I travel in 2013. If I don’t love, it’s all just wind and waste. But with love—in love—our words and wanderings can have genuine meaning, genuine life impact.
After all, people still wonder what heaven thinks of us. We—commissioned Christ-follower—have the privilege of letting them know.
For God so loved this world, He gave . . .
I’m reminiscing about 2012 today: the friends I made in California (Love ya, Cornerstone!), the incredible opportunities I had to preach around the country (165 messages in 16 states, whew!) and the fantastic people I met along the way, the rewarding stories of how God has been using the first book and now good reports are coming in from readers of the second (In the Midst: Treasures from the Dark), the joy of being part of a local church here in Wisconsin (You are an encouraging family, Jacob’s Well!), a pleasant family reunion (complete with great fishing), the surprising phone call requesting that I serve as an acting District Superintendent and the even greater surprise of how much I’m enjoying the privilege, the sweet return to Salem (Life-giving. Thank you!) and to top the year off, our home remodel project was sufficiently complete for a joyful Christmas move-in (Mt. Lake crew, you are awesome and skillful servants!) and, what could be better, all of our kids came home to celebrate.
I’m blessed.
The life—the years, the strength, the joy—the “locusts” ate is being restored. Your prayers on our behalf continue to be answered. Bless you and thank you.
A Devotional Thought to End One Year and Begin Another
Didn’t someone, somewhere have to wonder?
Certainly some reflective soul looked deeply into the not-yet-polluted night sky searching, asking: What did our Creator think of us?
We had rejected His plan in the Garden. The earth’s first two offspring—two brothers—shed blood. The first death on this planet was a murder. The story—mankind’s story—does not begin well.
The ongoing chapters don’t paint a much better picture. Thankfully, occasional rays of light give hope in the darkness: Abraham believes, Moses leads, David sings, Jeremiah perseveres. But for every Abe and Dave is a Saul who serves himself, a Solomon who implodes or a Jonah who runs.
As the story unfolds, what is the God of heaven to think . . . to feel . . . to do with such a place—a race—as this?
His values—clearly communicated—are not owned by the majority. His heart ignored. His causes opposed. The poor are scorned, the vulnerable abused and the prophets killed. Wars rage back and forth across the landscape. Morals are reinvented to suit man’s most vile desires. The human population staggers from the strong drink of its own brewing: a deadly concoction of greed, lust, pride and revenge.
Would it not have been appropriate for the thinking person to conclude that God was utterly disgusted and completely done with this world? On what basis could we hope that He still had heart for a people like us?
Yet, what is heaven’s response to century after century, generation after generation of rebellion? Christmas!
Christmas is heaven’s stunning and beautiful proclamation that God loves this world . . . yes, even a world as devolved as ours. This wandering, wondering world—if she can only hear—will have the answer announced by angels and delivered through a virgin’s womb.
In a single word, heaven’s answer to the world’s question is “love.”
For God so loved the world—this broken, mean, rebellious world—that He gave us His one and only Son.
My Application
Another Christmas has come and gone. And, for some of us, the story of the Christ-child has become as ordinary and expected as another sunrise. But, today, I say, “Wow! Amazing! I wouldn’t have seen it coming. I couldn’t have written the storyline.”
What is the God of heaven’s word to this world? Love. Love, perfectly lived out in a human life so we could see what it really looks like.
As Paul, my local pastor friend, explained in a recent sermon, “Jesus, the Word, is the exact expression of what God desired to say to this world.”
My desire for 2013 is that I would leave expressions of love wherever I go. It really doesn’t matter how many sermons I preach or what titles I have or how far I travel in 2013. If I don’t love, it’s all just wind and waste. But with love—in love—our words and wanderings can have genuine meaning, genuine life impact.
After all, people still wonder what heaven thinks of us. We—commissioned Christ-follower—have the privilege of letting them know.
For God so loved this world, He gave . . .
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (14)
Saturday, December 1. 2012
SEASONS
This year Fall bid Wisconsin farewell like a reluctant-to-leave lover. She lingered far longer than she should have, allowing her warm glow to surround us all the way to our Thanksgiving meal. But, after a long final embrace, she caught her south-bound train just as it pulled out of the station.
The draft of her departing transport drew the impatiently awaiting arctic winds and our temperature dropped 30 degrees in 3 hours. Some places in our state plummeted 60 degrees before the night was over.
It’s November in Wisconsin. Winter is here. Winter is supposed to be here.
I turned 52 this week. The spring-like freshness of adolescence and the summer intensity of young adulthood (with all of its blazing passion) have given way to the autumn grace of middle age.
I like Fall. I always have. Mild temperatures, no mosquitoes, fewer boats on the lake, the changing colors of the forests: Creation aging gracefully.
Ellie, my nephew’s first grade daughter, asked me recently, “What’s your favorite season?” (Where does a first grader come up with a question like that? Is she a little poet-to-be?)
I answered, “Fall.”
With delighted eyes she said, “Me, too!”
“Why do you like it?” I inquired.
She happily told me of the fun of chasing falling leaves and imagining she was being chased by falling leaves, and on she went recounting the joys of the season.
As Joanna and I were getting ready to say good-bye to her and her family, Ellie asked where we live.
“Chippewa Falls,” I answered.
With eyes wider still she asked, “Is it Fall there all the time?”
If Narnia had winter all the time, could there be a place of perpetual Fall? I was instantly drawn into her childlike world of wonder.
“No,” I had to disappoint. “It’s named after a waterfall.”
“Oh,” she said.
“It’s a pretty town, though. You’ll have to come see it sometime.”
At 52, I’m well aware that Fall won’t linger forever, but I would like to stretch it out as long as I can. I’ve got more trails to hike, fish to catch and falling leaves to chase before the cold winds of old age confine me to slippered feet and shuttered windows. The Father’s grace will be sufficient for that day as it has been for every day, and I have the model of those who are weathering winter well . . . their spirit’s vibrant, their faith unwavering, their dreams alive and hope-giving.
Winter has its joys, no doubt . . . especially if you can embrace the beauty of the cold (or move to Fort Myers!)
But for now, for me, it’s Fall.
“Teach us to number our days,” the poet once prayed.
One way I’m seeking to embrace the poet’s wisdom—to number my days—is to welcome the seasons as they come. I know, there’s always some character somewhere wearing shorts well into winter . . . defying the seasons, refusing to allow them to shape his behavior. But, I’m becoming an advocate for embracing what is—accepting the natural seasons of life—rather than pretending that we can live in some artificial form of perpetual spring.
My respected brother, Tim, embraces his diagnosis of brain cancer with the same passion for God and life that he’s lived through every other season. Way to go, Tim.
A young woman from Pennsylvania introduces herself to me after I speak on issues of pain and suffering. Her story and spirit unfolds. She’s living out her springtime with grace, although the years have been marked by seizures and more doctor visits than anyone should have in a lifetime. I respect you, Robin.
My mother, at 93, prays daily by name for all of her clan (children, spouses, grandchildren and great)—82 souls. I celebrate you, Mom!
Bruce grabs me in a coffee shop—hand shaking, not from too much caffeine but from the onset of a disease—and says with vibrant spirit, “Thank you for teaching me to not be defined by my diagnosis!” With joy in his step he bounds away to seize another day. Way to go, Bro!
I’ll stop my list of tributes a mile too soon, but you get the idea. Around us are examples of people who are “numbering their days” well. I celebrate them. I want to be like them.
For me, for now, it’s Fall and it’s good.
Grateful,
John
PS I’ve been asked to give you a personal update on this blog as to how I am doing. How is my health? How am I handling all the travel required of my current schedule?
The short answer is that my health seems stable and my stamina is good. My schedule is very full, but most days I’ve been able to keep the state of busyness out of my spirit. My time as a District Superintendent (4 months into the journey now) has been more fitting for me than I expected. It’s a privilege to get to serve among these pastors and churches.
My desire to do more writing has been almost completely shelved by the schedule demands, but this, too, is a for a season. Joanna and the kids are doing quite well, also. We have plans to all be together for a week at Christmas.
Thanks for caring. Thanks for praying.
The draft of her departing transport drew the impatiently awaiting arctic winds and our temperature dropped 30 degrees in 3 hours. Some places in our state plummeted 60 degrees before the night was over.
It’s November in Wisconsin. Winter is here. Winter is supposed to be here.
I turned 52 this week. The spring-like freshness of adolescence and the summer intensity of young adulthood (with all of its blazing passion) have given way to the autumn grace of middle age.
I like Fall. I always have. Mild temperatures, no mosquitoes, fewer boats on the lake, the changing colors of the forests: Creation aging gracefully.
Ellie, my nephew’s first grade daughter, asked me recently, “What’s your favorite season?” (Where does a first grader come up with a question like that? Is she a little poet-to-be?)
I answered, “Fall.”
With delighted eyes she said, “Me, too!”
“Why do you like it?” I inquired.
She happily told me of the fun of chasing falling leaves and imagining she was being chased by falling leaves, and on she went recounting the joys of the season.
As Joanna and I were getting ready to say good-bye to her and her family, Ellie asked where we live.
“Chippewa Falls,” I answered.
With eyes wider still she asked, “Is it Fall there all the time?”
If Narnia had winter all the time, could there be a place of perpetual Fall? I was instantly drawn into her childlike world of wonder.
“No,” I had to disappoint. “It’s named after a waterfall.”
“Oh,” she said.
“It’s a pretty town, though. You’ll have to come see it sometime.”
At 52, I’m well aware that Fall won’t linger forever, but I would like to stretch it out as long as I can. I’ve got more trails to hike, fish to catch and falling leaves to chase before the cold winds of old age confine me to slippered feet and shuttered windows. The Father’s grace will be sufficient for that day as it has been for every day, and I have the model of those who are weathering winter well . . . their spirit’s vibrant, their faith unwavering, their dreams alive and hope-giving.
Winter has its joys, no doubt . . . especially if you can embrace the beauty of the cold (or move to Fort Myers!)
But for now, for me, it’s Fall.
“Teach us to number our days,” the poet once prayed.
One way I’m seeking to embrace the poet’s wisdom—to number my days—is to welcome the seasons as they come. I know, there’s always some character somewhere wearing shorts well into winter . . . defying the seasons, refusing to allow them to shape his behavior. But, I’m becoming an advocate for embracing what is—accepting the natural seasons of life—rather than pretending that we can live in some artificial form of perpetual spring.
My respected brother, Tim, embraces his diagnosis of brain cancer with the same passion for God and life that he’s lived through every other season. Way to go, Tim.
A young woman from Pennsylvania introduces herself to me after I speak on issues of pain and suffering. Her story and spirit unfolds. She’s living out her springtime with grace, although the years have been marked by seizures and more doctor visits than anyone should have in a lifetime. I respect you, Robin.
My mother, at 93, prays daily by name for all of her clan (children, spouses, grandchildren and great)—82 souls. I celebrate you, Mom!
Bruce grabs me in a coffee shop—hand shaking, not from too much caffeine but from the onset of a disease—and says with vibrant spirit, “Thank you for teaching me to not be defined by my diagnosis!” With joy in his step he bounds away to seize another day. Way to go, Bro!
I’ll stop my list of tributes a mile too soon, but you get the idea. Around us are examples of people who are “numbering their days” well. I celebrate them. I want to be like them.
For me, for now, it’s Fall and it’s good.
Grateful,
John
PS I’ve been asked to give you a personal update on this blog as to how I am doing. How is my health? How am I handling all the travel required of my current schedule?
The short answer is that my health seems stable and my stamina is good. My schedule is very full, but most days I’ve been able to keep the state of busyness out of my spirit. My time as a District Superintendent (4 months into the journey now) has been more fitting for me than I expected. It’s a privilege to get to serve among these pastors and churches.
My desire to do more writing has been almost completely shelved by the schedule demands, but this, too, is a for a season. Joanna and the kids are doing quite well, also. We have plans to all be together for a week at Christmas.
Thanks for caring. Thanks for praying.
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (26)
Friday, November 2. 2012
Becoming a “John 15” Pastor
Once upon a time I was a faithful subscriber and reader. Then life got busy. Next, I got sick and tried to get an early pass into heaven. Before I knew it a decade had passed without picking up a copy.
With a new job and a new office, a fresh copy landed on my desk. Rushing off to another flight, I threw its glossy pages into my backpack and 30,000 feet somewhere over Eastern Washington, I turned to the opening editorial.
The current trend in magazine production is to—once the reader gets past pages of advertisements—use the opening editorial to tell us what they are going to tell us in the remainder of the magazine . . . sort of like Cliff Notes for those of us who may not get around to reading the whole thing.
The catchy cover had announced to its pastor audience that this issue was about Ministry’s Core: The five most important things you do. The editor’s title restated the theme: The Five Main Things. The editor revealed that careful thought had been put into gathering this list. Their church leadership team had retreated, discussed, decided, wrote and published what they believe to be the essence of ministry.
I read their list with interest: Feed the sheep, Guard the flock, Discern the will of God, Train others, Lead by example. All good. All valid. All necessary. But, as I read, I found myself dissenting.
I read the editorial a second time to make sure I hadn’t missed something. I hadn’t. My reaction ranged from disappointment to disbelief to disgust. I read the article a third time just to triple check.
My angst? How can the leading Christian journal for Christian leaders proclaim to us the five most important things of ministry and leave out prayer?
I think I know the answer. Some of us in Christian leadership feel the constant current that subtly shifts our focus from God Himself to serving Him. In that, I plead chief of sinners. I recognize the magazine staff’s error because I quickly see it as one common to my own story. I see myself in the mirror of the editorial page.
Swimming against the current, I hear the full-of-grace call to come back to the Father, Son and Spirit in relationship. Communion, communication, listening and speaking, leaning into His heart and sharing mine with His, taking up the spiritual armor and taking on the enemy’s attacks, expressing my gratitude, dependence and affection . . . i.e. prayer must stay on the top of my list.
Giving our editor and team the benefit of the doubt, I assume that they assumed that prayer would undergird their “Big 5”. However, having been in dozens of churches in the last year, I’m hard pressed to believe their assumption is accurate. And, in fairness to the magazine, the articles that explained their five points were well written and contained great insight on ministry matters. A few of the articles acknowledged that prayer does have a role in the leadership process. I couldn’t help but note, though, that the magazine skipped right past Acts 1(prayer meeting), Acts 2 (devoting themselves to prayer) and the solid prayer theme of the opening chapters of Acts and jumped right to chapter 15 (a leadership meeting.) The early church was a praying church before they were a decision making church.
I feel a twinge of guilt writing this post. It’s a fine magazine and I don’t want to be a fault finder. I don’t want to malign my intelligent, hard-working co-workers for Christ. I celebrate their calling, gifting and faithfulness. I’m mainly writing to remind myself of Christ’s words, “Apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15).
I desire that what would lead the list of my “main things” is abiding in Christ, dwelling in Christ, walking with the Spirit . . . a lifestyle of prayer.
A team of church elders told me recently that as they begin their search for a new pastor, they were looking for a “John 15 pastor”—one who abides in Christ and whose ministry flows out of this abiding.
I’m not looking to be their pastor, but I do want to be that guy. Consistent, heart-felt, make-sure-I-don’t-do-all-the-talking-but-listen-as-well prayer is fundamental to my abiding relationship. It didn’t lead the magazine’s list, but I want it to lead mine.
May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. II Corinthians 13:14
John’s Preaching Schedule
Updated November 5, 2012
Nov. 4 Orchard View Alliance, Janesville WA
Nov. 10 Man Up 2012, Christ Community Church, Fort Myers, FL
Nov. 11 (AM) Christ Community Church, Fort Myers, FL
Nov. 11 (PM) Shell Point Village Church, Fort Myers, FL
Nov. 17-18 Centerville Community Church, Centerville, OH
Nov. 25 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
Dec. 2 Living Hope Community Church, Wenatchee, WA
Dec. 8-9 Salem Alliance Church, Salem, OR
Dec. 15-16 Little Falls C&MA Church, Little Falls, MN
Dec. 29-30 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
With a new job and a new office, a fresh copy landed on my desk. Rushing off to another flight, I threw its glossy pages into my backpack and 30,000 feet somewhere over Eastern Washington, I turned to the opening editorial.
The current trend in magazine production is to—once the reader gets past pages of advertisements—use the opening editorial to tell us what they are going to tell us in the remainder of the magazine . . . sort of like Cliff Notes for those of us who may not get around to reading the whole thing.
The catchy cover had announced to its pastor audience that this issue was about Ministry’s Core: The five most important things you do. The editor’s title restated the theme: The Five Main Things. The editor revealed that careful thought had been put into gathering this list. Their church leadership team had retreated, discussed, decided, wrote and published what they believe to be the essence of ministry.
I read their list with interest: Feed the sheep, Guard the flock, Discern the will of God, Train others, Lead by example. All good. All valid. All necessary. But, as I read, I found myself dissenting.
I read the editorial a second time to make sure I hadn’t missed something. I hadn’t. My reaction ranged from disappointment to disbelief to disgust. I read the article a third time just to triple check.
My angst? How can the leading Christian journal for Christian leaders proclaim to us the five most important things of ministry and leave out prayer?
I think I know the answer. Some of us in Christian leadership feel the constant current that subtly shifts our focus from God Himself to serving Him. In that, I plead chief of sinners. I recognize the magazine staff’s error because I quickly see it as one common to my own story. I see myself in the mirror of the editorial page.
Swimming against the current, I hear the full-of-grace call to come back to the Father, Son and Spirit in relationship. Communion, communication, listening and speaking, leaning into His heart and sharing mine with His, taking up the spiritual armor and taking on the enemy’s attacks, expressing my gratitude, dependence and affection . . . i.e. prayer must stay on the top of my list.
Giving our editor and team the benefit of the doubt, I assume that they assumed that prayer would undergird their “Big 5”. However, having been in dozens of churches in the last year, I’m hard pressed to believe their assumption is accurate. And, in fairness to the magazine, the articles that explained their five points were well written and contained great insight on ministry matters. A few of the articles acknowledged that prayer does have a role in the leadership process. I couldn’t help but note, though, that the magazine skipped right past Acts 1(prayer meeting), Acts 2 (devoting themselves to prayer) and the solid prayer theme of the opening chapters of Acts and jumped right to chapter 15 (a leadership meeting.) The early church was a praying church before they were a decision making church.
I feel a twinge of guilt writing this post. It’s a fine magazine and I don’t want to be a fault finder. I don’t want to malign my intelligent, hard-working co-workers for Christ. I celebrate their calling, gifting and faithfulness. I’m mainly writing to remind myself of Christ’s words, “Apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15).
I desire that what would lead the list of my “main things” is abiding in Christ, dwelling in Christ, walking with the Spirit . . . a lifestyle of prayer.
A team of church elders told me recently that as they begin their search for a new pastor, they were looking for a “John 15 pastor”—one who abides in Christ and whose ministry flows out of this abiding.
I’m not looking to be their pastor, but I do want to be that guy. Consistent, heart-felt, make-sure-I-don’t-do-all-the-talking-but-listen-as-well prayer is fundamental to my abiding relationship. It didn’t lead the magazine’s list, but I want it to lead mine.
May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. II Corinthians 13:14
John’s Preaching Schedule
Updated November 5, 2012
Nov. 4 Orchard View Alliance, Janesville WA
Nov. 10 Man Up 2012, Christ Community Church, Fort Myers, FL
Nov. 11 (AM) Christ Community Church, Fort Myers, FL
Nov. 11 (PM) Shell Point Village Church, Fort Myers, FL
Nov. 17-18 Centerville Community Church, Centerville, OH
Nov. 25 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
Dec. 2 Living Hope Community Church, Wenatchee, WA
Dec. 8-9 Salem Alliance Church, Salem, OR
Dec. 15-16 Little Falls C&MA Church, Little Falls, MN
Dec. 29-30 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (12)
Wednesday, October 3. 2012
Announcing: In the Midst (and why I've been a blogging slacker)
It wasn’t original to me, and it was said “tongue in cheek”, but a few years ago when my boys went off to college I informed them, “At college you can study, have fun and sleep . . . but you can only do two of the three.” The daily choices that a college student must make often leave one of the three lacking.
As I’ve added the interim role of overseeing Alliance churches in Oregon, Washington and Alaska to the speaking and writing ministry God was already birthing within me, I’ve felt the same conundrum in my life: I can lead, write or preach . . . but I can only do two of the three.
Hence, this blog has been neglected in recent months. I miss it. Those who have followed these meanderings through the last three and half years have been a huge gift to me. But, instead of sitting across a keyboard talking to you, I’ve spent an abundance of hours sitting across a table talking to pastors or on yet another platform with a Bible in my hand speaking to a congregation. I’ve been richly blessed by recent experiences, but the keyboard has been quite silent . . . both for this blog and for future books.
Whether or not I’ll figure out how to balance all three of these callings remains to be seen. I once promised a regular blog schedule of the 1st and 15th of the month. I can no longer do so. I’m still on a steep learning curve with the district leadership. Perhaps when the curve “flattens” a bit, I’ll be able to regain some traction with the writing ministry.
On the speaking front, I had the greatest pleasure speaking for Salem Health at their rehab event. The standing room only crowd was excessively gracious and the hospital staff did an exceptional job of putting the event together. Recent ministry opportunities in Butler and Erie, PA, Lewiston, ID, Nyack College and Big Sandy Camp have also been very fulfilling. I’m a blessed man . . . just not a completely balanced man at the moment.
Meanwhile, I’m happy to announce that the writing work of years past has now been published in my second book. Blow the trumpets. Drum roll, please. Turn up the lights. Hand me the microphone, and let me introduce In the Midst: Treasures from the Dark.
The back cover reads:
John’s never been much for small talk. He tends to get to the heart of issues quickly . . . especially when he’s just come off his deathbed.
Real Time
Relevant
Revealing
With a feeding tube hanging from his stomach, a disease ravaging his muscles and questions raging in his soul, Dr. John Stumbo made the commitment to be transparently honest. He also made the commitment to write—not only for others to read, but as a means of finding out what he truly believed in the midst of his crisis.
This is a collection of some of the most insightful of those writings.
HB London of Focus on the Family was kind enough to endorse the book. In part, he wrote, “As you read this collection, you will be moved as I was, and you will be challenged by the faith of a good man whose steps have been ordered by the Lord (Psalm 37:23). I am not sure why John had to endure such suffering, but it just might be so that as you read In the Midst you too will discover Treasures from the Dark. I pray so.”
You are among the very first to hear that it has been released. It should be available on-line within the next week or so at (booksnbibles.com or amazon.com). It will also be available at Salem Alliance Church, Delta Lake Conference Center and other outlets as requested.
You should also know that I dedicated the book (in part) to you—this blog community. This book wouldn’t have existed if it weren’t for your encouragement and support beginning back in the earliest days of my health crisis. Thus, in the dedication I wrote,
To the praying people of Salem Alliance Church and the thousands of others around the world who wouldn’t let go of heaven until heaven let go of me . . .
To the blog community who believed I still had something to say even when I had no voice to say it . . .
So, while I try to regain some traction for future writing, please receive the fruit of my past writing. In the Midst is my attempt to steward the story and gifts God has entrusted to me.
I’ve received grace upon grace from you. May this book be a measure of grace returned. (Can grace be returned? Hmm, maybe I should write about that sometime!)
Until whenever,
Grateful for you,
John Stumbo
As I’ve added the interim role of overseeing Alliance churches in Oregon, Washington and Alaska to the speaking and writing ministry God was already birthing within me, I’ve felt the same conundrum in my life: I can lead, write or preach . . . but I can only do two of the three.
Hence, this blog has been neglected in recent months. I miss it. Those who have followed these meanderings through the last three and half years have been a huge gift to me. But, instead of sitting across a keyboard talking to you, I’ve spent an abundance of hours sitting across a table talking to pastors or on yet another platform with a Bible in my hand speaking to a congregation. I’ve been richly blessed by recent experiences, but the keyboard has been quite silent . . . both for this blog and for future books.
Whether or not I’ll figure out how to balance all three of these callings remains to be seen. I once promised a regular blog schedule of the 1st and 15th of the month. I can no longer do so. I’m still on a steep learning curve with the district leadership. Perhaps when the curve “flattens” a bit, I’ll be able to regain some traction with the writing ministry.
On the speaking front, I had the greatest pleasure speaking for Salem Health at their rehab event. The standing room only crowd was excessively gracious and the hospital staff did an exceptional job of putting the event together. Recent ministry opportunities in Butler and Erie, PA, Lewiston, ID, Nyack College and Big Sandy Camp have also been very fulfilling. I’m a blessed man . . . just not a completely balanced man at the moment.
Meanwhile, I’m happy to announce that the writing work of years past has now been published in my second book. Blow the trumpets. Drum roll, please. Turn up the lights. Hand me the microphone, and let me introduce In the Midst: Treasures from the Dark.
The back cover reads:
John’s never been much for small talk. He tends to get to the heart of issues quickly . . . especially when he’s just come off his deathbed.
Real Time
Relevant
Revealing
With a feeding tube hanging from his stomach, a disease ravaging his muscles and questions raging in his soul, Dr. John Stumbo made the commitment to be transparently honest. He also made the commitment to write—not only for others to read, but as a means of finding out what he truly believed in the midst of his crisis.
This is a collection of some of the most insightful of those writings.
HB London of Focus on the Family was kind enough to endorse the book. In part, he wrote, “As you read this collection, you will be moved as I was, and you will be challenged by the faith of a good man whose steps have been ordered by the Lord (Psalm 37:23). I am not sure why John had to endure such suffering, but it just might be so that as you read In the Midst you too will discover Treasures from the Dark. I pray so.”
You are among the very first to hear that it has been released. It should be available on-line within the next week or so at (booksnbibles.com or amazon.com). It will also be available at Salem Alliance Church, Delta Lake Conference Center and other outlets as requested.
You should also know that I dedicated the book (in part) to you—this blog community. This book wouldn’t have existed if it weren’t for your encouragement and support beginning back in the earliest days of my health crisis. Thus, in the dedication I wrote,
To the praying people of Salem Alliance Church and the thousands of others around the world who wouldn’t let go of heaven until heaven let go of me . . .
To the blog community who believed I still had something to say even when I had no voice to say it . . .
So, while I try to regain some traction for future writing, please receive the fruit of my past writing. In the Midst is my attempt to steward the story and gifts God has entrusted to me.
I’ve received grace upon grace from you. May this book be a measure of grace returned. (Can grace be returned? Hmm, maybe I should write about that sometime!)
Until whenever,
Grateful for you,
John Stumbo
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (19)
Saturday, September 22. 2012
I'd Love to See You There
Hey to All Who Live in the Salem Area,
With great pleasure and anticipation, I have the honor of speaking for Salem Hospital's Rehabilitation Week. This Thursday (Sept. 27) at 7pm, I'll be at Chemeketa Community College (Salem Auditorium). I've been looking forward to this opportunity as much as any I can remember.
It will be even better if you are there. I'm told there are about 75 seats left. Please invite a friend and come join us.
UPDATE: THE EVENT IS NOW FULL. THE HOSPITAL ISN'T TAKING ANY MORE RESERVATIONS. Perhaps other opportunities to speak in the area will come my way and we'll see each other then.
http://www.salemhealth.org/rehab/pdf/stumbo.pdf
With anticipation,
John
PS I'm sorry that I haven't communicated much lately. September has been full to the brim.
With great pleasure and anticipation, I have the honor of speaking for Salem Hospital's Rehabilitation Week. This Thursday (Sept. 27) at 7pm, I'll be at Chemeketa Community College (Salem Auditorium). I've been looking forward to this opportunity as much as any I can remember.
It will be even better if you are there. I'm told there are about 75 seats left. Please invite a friend and come join us.
UPDATE: THE EVENT IS NOW FULL. THE HOSPITAL ISN'T TAKING ANY MORE RESERVATIONS. Perhaps other opportunities to speak in the area will come my way and we'll see each other then.
http://www.salemhealth.org/rehab/pdf/stumbo.pdf
With anticipation,
John
PS I'm sorry that I haven't communicated much lately. September has been full to the brim.
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (32)
Saturday, September 1. 2012
Silent Heroes
Bats. The little furry flying kind. They seem to follow me. Just the other day one chose our shed as his castle. He ripped a hole through tar paper and moved in. I considered it a felony offense: breaking and entering with a deadly weapon. (Do you know what that guano can do to a person?!) I served as jury, judge and executioner. Yes, I sent him to the Abyss. (That must be where bats go when they die, don’t you think?) I took no pleasure in it, but it felt like the reasonable thing to do at the time.
And, it brought back many memories.
Years ago, when I served as pastor in southern Minnesota, our church was a bat hotel. Every summer a small colony of them would fly laps around our church sanctuary, cruise our hallways and drink from our toilets. (I know this for fact. So does a mother who was attempting to potty train her daughter. Discovering the creature—as it hung upside down from the toilet lid—set the kid back from potty training for three months, I’m sure!) Many a Saturday night I would spend exorcising the sanctuary—not of demons, but of flying rodents. I’d come to the church to finish my sermon and pray, but would spend most of my time with a tennis racket in my hand shooing the beasts back outdoors where they should be.
“Go do your job! Eat mosquitoes!”
I considered it one of my greatest achievements in the church that in summer #6, I finally discovered the bat entrance and exit. Decades earlier a mason was a half-brick short . . . perhaps in more ways than one. Under an eve, tucked in a corner, completely hidden from human eye, long-ago-mason didn’t bother filling in the last half brick . . . which in bat-travel is the width of an 8 lane expressway.
I could tell you numerous bat stories from years 1 through 5—Dan getting shooed out from under the table by the female committee members as one joined their meeting, Bert nailing one with a tennis racket and it hitting a balding man in the forehead before it fell dead to the floor, you get the idea—but tonight there is one bat story that comes to mind that actually leads me to the word of encouragement I’d like to offer.
One Sunday morning, to my horror, I realized that my Saturday night exorcism had been incomplete. As I preached from the pulpit, I spotted a bat behind a window blind three rows back from the organ. It rested motionless by the lower edge of the window frame. As I preached, I kept an eye on the bat and an eye on the congregation. It didn’t appear that anyone had noticed its motionless form. If it slumbered the hour away, we’d be okay. (By the way, it wasn’t the only creature in the room who found this a prime time and place to sleep—but I won’t reveal the other one’s identity other than that he was in about the fourth row on the piano side, head back and jaw dropped. At least he didn’t snore.)
To my dismay, as my sermon moved towards a conclusion, the bat began to move as well. Unlike the slumbering saint, the bat was getting restless. I simply knew that if the bat flew there would be pandemonium in the pew.
Without incident, I brought my sermon to a close. It still appeared that I was the only person aware of our guest in the window. I peeked right before I prayed and noticed that it was now high on the frame. This was not a good sign. Bats climb up before they fly. Unlike birds, bats are unable to fly from a grounded position. They begin their flight with a swooping motion. To move up indicated that the bat was ready to spread his wings and take off.
As I said the “amen”, the organist hit the opening note of the closing hymn and the congregation rose to their feet. I stole one more glance at the window. The bat was gone!
No! Where?
Then I saw Jim. Ever-quiet Jim. No-nonsense Jim. The organist’s adult son was quietly walking down the side aisle with his left hand clasped tightly. Past the worshiping congregants Jim silently slipped out of the sanctuary and out of the building.
I had dealt with bats using tennis rackets, towels, brooms and about any other instrument I could find. On this day, however, Jim had used my prayer as his cover and barehanded the varmint.
He never said a word. Jim’s approach was, “See a need. Do the job. Don’t make a big splash about it. Get-er done and get out of the way.” If it were up to him, no one would ever know. But I knew: Jim had saved the day.
Jim became my silent hero that day.
He wouldn’t be my last.
I want to celebrate the silent servants among us. You are often tucked away in places like tech booths, kitchens, nurseries, tool sheds, prayer closets and copy rooms. You don’t want a bunch of “fuss” made over you. You want to serve, are grateful to serve and are faithful to serve . . . but would rather not have anybody make a big deal of it. You seem to have a satisfaction that arises from the service itself, not an acknowledgment of it.
Without naming you or putting you on a stage with lights (you do hate that, don’t you?) I commend and celebrate you.
Others of us are placed on stages and under lights with mics all the time (literally or figuratively). Our service is inescapably public. We learn to deal with the praise and criticism that comes from being up front or out front. We have our place in the body, too.
But, tonight I simply want to enjoy the fact that the body of Christ is enriched by countless, quiet Christians who serve with humility, dignity and grace. Bless you. I commend you. Jesus knows you. He’ll reward you.
Many of these servants that I’m celebrating are caregivers. You’ve given your lives to care for people (like me in 2008-2009) who cannot care for themselves. Our quality of life would be unbearable without you. We’d die (literally) without you.
Thank you for quietly and faithfully serving. You are on my hero list with Jim.
My story about Jim is 20 years old now. Yet, the memory of the moment only gets more pleasurable with time. Please know that your work—perhaps never noticed—will never be forgotten.
God is not one to forget what you’ve done for Him. It would be unjust for Him to do so. Rather, in His perfect justice, He will remember both the work you have done and the work you continue to do for His people. (Hebrews 6:10 my paraphrase)
John Stumbo
Chippewa Falls, WI
And, it brought back many memories.
Years ago, when I served as pastor in southern Minnesota, our church was a bat hotel. Every summer a small colony of them would fly laps around our church sanctuary, cruise our hallways and drink from our toilets. (I know this for fact. So does a mother who was attempting to potty train her daughter. Discovering the creature—as it hung upside down from the toilet lid—set the kid back from potty training for three months, I’m sure!) Many a Saturday night I would spend exorcising the sanctuary—not of demons, but of flying rodents. I’d come to the church to finish my sermon and pray, but would spend most of my time with a tennis racket in my hand shooing the beasts back outdoors where they should be.
“Go do your job! Eat mosquitoes!”
I considered it one of my greatest achievements in the church that in summer #6, I finally discovered the bat entrance and exit. Decades earlier a mason was a half-brick short . . . perhaps in more ways than one. Under an eve, tucked in a corner, completely hidden from human eye, long-ago-mason didn’t bother filling in the last half brick . . . which in bat-travel is the width of an 8 lane expressway.
I could tell you numerous bat stories from years 1 through 5—Dan getting shooed out from under the table by the female committee members as one joined their meeting, Bert nailing one with a tennis racket and it hitting a balding man in the forehead before it fell dead to the floor, you get the idea—but tonight there is one bat story that comes to mind that actually leads me to the word of encouragement I’d like to offer.
One Sunday morning, to my horror, I realized that my Saturday night exorcism had been incomplete. As I preached from the pulpit, I spotted a bat behind a window blind three rows back from the organ. It rested motionless by the lower edge of the window frame. As I preached, I kept an eye on the bat and an eye on the congregation. It didn’t appear that anyone had noticed its motionless form. If it slumbered the hour away, we’d be okay. (By the way, it wasn’t the only creature in the room who found this a prime time and place to sleep—but I won’t reveal the other one’s identity other than that he was in about the fourth row on the piano side, head back and jaw dropped. At least he didn’t snore.)
To my dismay, as my sermon moved towards a conclusion, the bat began to move as well. Unlike the slumbering saint, the bat was getting restless. I simply knew that if the bat flew there would be pandemonium in the pew.
Without incident, I brought my sermon to a close. It still appeared that I was the only person aware of our guest in the window. I peeked right before I prayed and noticed that it was now high on the frame. This was not a good sign. Bats climb up before they fly. Unlike birds, bats are unable to fly from a grounded position. They begin their flight with a swooping motion. To move up indicated that the bat was ready to spread his wings and take off.
As I said the “amen”, the organist hit the opening note of the closing hymn and the congregation rose to their feet. I stole one more glance at the window. The bat was gone!
No! Where?
Then I saw Jim. Ever-quiet Jim. No-nonsense Jim. The organist’s adult son was quietly walking down the side aisle with his left hand clasped tightly. Past the worshiping congregants Jim silently slipped out of the sanctuary and out of the building.
I had dealt with bats using tennis rackets, towels, brooms and about any other instrument I could find. On this day, however, Jim had used my prayer as his cover and barehanded the varmint.
He never said a word. Jim’s approach was, “See a need. Do the job. Don’t make a big splash about it. Get-er done and get out of the way.” If it were up to him, no one would ever know. But I knew: Jim had saved the day.
Jim became my silent hero that day.
He wouldn’t be my last.
I want to celebrate the silent servants among us. You are often tucked away in places like tech booths, kitchens, nurseries, tool sheds, prayer closets and copy rooms. You don’t want a bunch of “fuss” made over you. You want to serve, are grateful to serve and are faithful to serve . . . but would rather not have anybody make a big deal of it. You seem to have a satisfaction that arises from the service itself, not an acknowledgment of it.
Without naming you or putting you on a stage with lights (you do hate that, don’t you?) I commend and celebrate you.
Others of us are placed on stages and under lights with mics all the time (literally or figuratively). Our service is inescapably public. We learn to deal with the praise and criticism that comes from being up front or out front. We have our place in the body, too.
But, tonight I simply want to enjoy the fact that the body of Christ is enriched by countless, quiet Christians who serve with humility, dignity and grace. Bless you. I commend you. Jesus knows you. He’ll reward you.
Many of these servants that I’m celebrating are caregivers. You’ve given your lives to care for people (like me in 2008-2009) who cannot care for themselves. Our quality of life would be unbearable without you. We’d die (literally) without you.
Thank you for quietly and faithfully serving. You are on my hero list with Jim.
My story about Jim is 20 years old now. Yet, the memory of the moment only gets more pleasurable with time. Please know that your work—perhaps never noticed—will never be forgotten.
God is not one to forget what you’ve done for Him. It would be unjust for Him to do so. Rather, in His perfect justice, He will remember both the work you have done and the work you continue to do for His people. (Hebrews 6:10 my paraphrase)
John Stumbo
Chippewa Falls, WI
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (20)
Wednesday, August 15. 2012
August Update
I’m now two weeks into my new role as Acting District Superintendent for the Alliance Northwest. My opening days at the District Office in Wilsonville, OR were rich. The team there gave me a warm welcome and we dove right in to matters at hand. The previous D. S. (Matt Boda) gave to me as healthy of a hand-off as any I could ever hope for. I’ve got much to learn, but I’m encouraged by the people who preceded me and who now surround me.
Meanwhile, book #2 (In the Midst), is just about ready to go to press. I’m hoping for a September 15 release date. And, the preaching schedule (as you can see below) reveals the great honor that I have on the weekends. To my wife’s true pleasure, our little home remodeling project (little home, major remodel) has begun to get some traction after stalling for some months. (A 14 yard dumpster arrives tomorrow. Good-bye old! Make room for the new!)
None of this leaves me with much time to come up with anything significant to say on this blog . . . but I never wanted to be a replacement for your daily Bible reading anyway. (Not that any of you were ever guilty of that, but it does absolve my “why didn’t you say something meaningful” guilt.)
Thanks for your interest, prayers and concern for our lives. My health continues to seem to be on the right trajectory.
Grateful,
John Stumbo
John Stumbo Preaching Schedule
Updated August 15, 2012
August 5 Woodinville Alliance Church, Woodinville, WA
August 12 Community Alliance Church, Detroit Lakes, MN
August 19 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
August 20-23 New Official Workers’ Forum (C&MA), Colorado Springs, CO
August 26 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
Aug. 31- Sept. 3 Big Sandy Camp and Conference Center, McGregor, MN
Sept. 8 Elma Alliance Church, Elma, WA
Sept. 9 Canby Alliance Church, Canby, OR
Sept. 16 Community Alliance Church, Butler, PA
Sept. 17-19 Nyack College, Nyack, NY
Sept. 21-22 Bible Conference, First Alliance Church, Erie, PA
Sept. 23 First Alliance Church, Erie, PA
Sept. 27 3rd Annual Rehabilitation Week Educational Community Outreach, Chemeketa Auditorium, Salem, OR (Registration Required)
Sept. 30 CrossPoint Alliance Church, Lewistown, ID
Oct. 6-7 Alliance Bible Church, Mequon, WI (Men’s Breakfast and Sunday Services)
Oct. 9-11 Mid-America District Conference, Colorado
Oct. 14 Appleton Alliance Church, Appleton, WI
Oct. 21 First Alliance, Great Falls, MT
Oct. 28 Fox Island Alliance, Fox Island, WA
Nov. 4 (Pending)
Nov. 10 Man Up 2012, Christ Community Church, Fort Myers, FL
Nov. 11 Christ Community Church, Fort Myers, FL
Nov. 11 (PM) Shell Point Village Church, Fort Myers, FL
Nov. 18 Centerville Community Church, Centerville, OH
Nov. 25 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
Dec. 2 (Pending)
Dec. 8-9 Salem Alliance Church, Salem, OR
Dec. 16 Little Falls C&MA Church, Little Falls, MN
Dec. 23 Orchard View Alliance Church, Janesville, WI
Meanwhile, book #2 (In the Midst), is just about ready to go to press. I’m hoping for a September 15 release date. And, the preaching schedule (as you can see below) reveals the great honor that I have on the weekends. To my wife’s true pleasure, our little home remodeling project (little home, major remodel) has begun to get some traction after stalling for some months. (A 14 yard dumpster arrives tomorrow. Good-bye old! Make room for the new!)
None of this leaves me with much time to come up with anything significant to say on this blog . . . but I never wanted to be a replacement for your daily Bible reading anyway. (Not that any of you were ever guilty of that, but it does absolve my “why didn’t you say something meaningful” guilt.)
Thanks for your interest, prayers and concern for our lives. My health continues to seem to be on the right trajectory.
Grateful,
John Stumbo
John Stumbo Preaching Schedule
Updated August 15, 2012
August 5 Woodinville Alliance Church, Woodinville, WA
August 12 Community Alliance Church, Detroit Lakes, MN
August 19 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
August 20-23 New Official Workers’ Forum (C&MA), Colorado Springs, CO
August 26 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
Aug. 31- Sept. 3 Big Sandy Camp and Conference Center, McGregor, MN
Sept. 8 Elma Alliance Church, Elma, WA
Sept. 9 Canby Alliance Church, Canby, OR
Sept. 16 Community Alliance Church, Butler, PA
Sept. 17-19 Nyack College, Nyack, NY
Sept. 21-22 Bible Conference, First Alliance Church, Erie, PA
Sept. 23 First Alliance Church, Erie, PA
Sept. 27 3rd Annual Rehabilitation Week Educational Community Outreach, Chemeketa Auditorium, Salem, OR (Registration Required)
Sept. 30 CrossPoint Alliance Church, Lewistown, ID
Oct. 6-7 Alliance Bible Church, Mequon, WI (Men’s Breakfast and Sunday Services)
Oct. 9-11 Mid-America District Conference, Colorado
Oct. 14 Appleton Alliance Church, Appleton, WI
Oct. 21 First Alliance, Great Falls, MT
Oct. 28 Fox Island Alliance, Fox Island, WA
Nov. 4 (Pending)
Nov. 10 Man Up 2012, Christ Community Church, Fort Myers, FL
Nov. 11 Christ Community Church, Fort Myers, FL
Nov. 11 (PM) Shell Point Village Church, Fort Myers, FL
Nov. 18 Centerville Community Church, Centerville, OH
Nov. 25 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
Dec. 2 (Pending)
Dec. 8-9 Salem Alliance Church, Salem, OR
Dec. 16 Little Falls C&MA Church, Little Falls, MN
Dec. 23 Orchard View Alliance Church, Janesville, WI
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (17)
Friday, August 10. 2012
Decision Made
Hey, All,
Between email, blog comments and personal responses, I received dozens of votes and opinions. All helpful! Thank you for speaking into the book cover. While it is always hard to say "no" to an option I like (hence, why not have three flavors of ice cream in the same dish!), I'm going with Option #1. Now the book is in the hands of the interior layout designer, then off to proofreading and finally to the printer. Hopefully we'll have copies of In the Midst: Treasures from the Dark in hand in a month or so. Cool!
I continue to receive such rich feedback on how God has used the first book, An Honest Look at a Mysterious Journey, and where it is being placed (it is now in a cancer clinic lobby, motel rooms, a car repair shop, a Catholic seminary library, a prison, etc.). I'm encouraged and expectant for His work to continue through the second book.
Meanwhile, I've received my "baptism" at the district office in Wilsonville, OR. Great staff. A flurry of learning, but in a healthy context. (Read the July Update if you don't know what I'm talking about here.)
And, meanwhile, the speaking opportunities continue. Each one is an honor. And, for those who pray for me, wow . . . I really sense my need for spiritual, emotional and physical support as I stand before diverse audiences. Here's where I'll be speaking in August and September:
August 5 Woodinville Alliance Church, Woodinville, WA
August 12 Community Alliance Church, Detroit Lakes, MN
August 19 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
August 20-23 New Official Workers’ Forum (C&MA), Colorado Springs, CO
August 26 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
Aug. 31- Sept. 3 Big Sandy Camp and Conference Center, McGregor, MN
Sept. 8 Elma Alliance Church, Elma, WA
Sept. 9 Canby Alliance Church, Canby, OR
Sept. 16 Community Alliance Church, Butler, PA
Sept. 17-19 Nyack College, Nyack, NY
Sept. 21-23 First Alliance Church, Erie, PA
Sept. 27 3rd Annual Rehabilitation Week Educational Community Outreach,
Chemeketa Auditorium, Salem, OR (Registration Required)
Sept. 30 (Pending)
This information is always on my website (JohnStumbo.com) as well.
Grace and peace!
John Stumbo
Between email, blog comments and personal responses, I received dozens of votes and opinions. All helpful! Thank you for speaking into the book cover. While it is always hard to say "no" to an option I like (hence, why not have three flavors of ice cream in the same dish!), I'm going with Option #1. Now the book is in the hands of the interior layout designer, then off to proofreading and finally to the printer. Hopefully we'll have copies of In the Midst: Treasures from the Dark in hand in a month or so. Cool!
I continue to receive such rich feedback on how God has used the first book, An Honest Look at a Mysterious Journey, and where it is being placed (it is now in a cancer clinic lobby, motel rooms, a car repair shop, a Catholic seminary library, a prison, etc.). I'm encouraged and expectant for His work to continue through the second book.
Meanwhile, I've received my "baptism" at the district office in Wilsonville, OR. Great staff. A flurry of learning, but in a healthy context. (Read the July Update if you don't know what I'm talking about here.)
And, meanwhile, the speaking opportunities continue. Each one is an honor. And, for those who pray for me, wow . . . I really sense my need for spiritual, emotional and physical support as I stand before diverse audiences. Here's where I'll be speaking in August and September:
August 5 Woodinville Alliance Church, Woodinville, WA
August 12 Community Alliance Church, Detroit Lakes, MN
August 19 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
August 20-23 New Official Workers’ Forum (C&MA), Colorado Springs, CO
August 26 Jacob’s Well, Chippewa Falls, WI
Aug. 31- Sept. 3 Big Sandy Camp and Conference Center, McGregor, MN
Sept. 8 Elma Alliance Church, Elma, WA
Sept. 9 Canby Alliance Church, Canby, OR
Sept. 16 Community Alliance Church, Butler, PA
Sept. 17-19 Nyack College, Nyack, NY
Sept. 21-23 First Alliance Church, Erie, PA
Sept. 27 3rd Annual Rehabilitation Week Educational Community Outreach,
Chemeketa Auditorium, Salem, OR (Registration Required)
Sept. 30 (Pending)
This information is always on my website (JohnStumbo.com) as well.
Grace and peace!
John Stumbo
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (9)
Wednesday, August 8. 2012
BOOK COVER VOTE
Dear Friends,
Book 2 is getting close to being done!
In the Midst: Treasures from the Dark is a collection of many of the blogs, poems and prayers that I wrote "in the midst" of my health crisis. It will serve as a companion volume to the first book. An Honest Look at a Mysterious Journey told the story. The second book reveals my reflections in the midst of the story.
I'm about to go to press and have reduced my cover options down to two. I'm requesting that you reply to this blog or to my email at jostumbiz@gmail.com with a simple vote for #1 or #2. Would you do that for me? Thanks!
MANY THANKS!
John Stumbo
Book 2 is getting close to being done!
In the Midst: Treasures from the Dark is a collection of many of the blogs, poems and prayers that I wrote "in the midst" of my health crisis. It will serve as a companion volume to the first book. An Honest Look at a Mysterious Journey told the story. The second book reveals my reflections in the midst of the story.
I'm about to go to press and have reduced my cover options down to two. I'm requesting that you reply to this blog or to my email at jostumbiz@gmail.com with a simple vote for #1 or #2. Would you do that for me? Thanks!
OPTION #1
OPTION #2
MANY THANKS!
John Stumbo
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (32)
Wednesday, August 1. 2012
3, 2, 1
Good Day, Friends.
Today’s Reflection
I’m writing from somewhere over South Dakota as I fly from Minneapolis to Portland. Today is Day #1 of “Interim #3” as I begin my role as the pinch hit District Superintendent for the Alliance Northwest. (I’ve had two interim pastoral positions since re-entering ministry in 2010.) I’m very curious what the next months will look like. I’m quite convinced that I’m following God’s lead on this matter. But conviction that I’m doing the right thing has no correlation to whether it will be an easy or difficult thing.
But then, “easy” is over-rated anyway, right?
Earlier this morning I read a poem from Amy Carmichael, a missionary to India for fifty-five years. In part, she wrote,
From prayer that asks that I may be
Sheltered from winds that beat on Thee,
From fearing when I should aspire,
From faltering when I should climb higher,
From silken self, O Captain, free
Thy soldier who would follow Thee.
From subtle love of softening things,
From easy choices, weakenings,
Not thus are spirits fortified,
Not this way went the Crucified,
From all that dims Thy Calvary,
O Lamb of God, deliver me.
Oh, my! Prayers that I be sheltered rather than strong, love of things that soften rather than strengthen, choices that look nothing like Calvary . . . Amy knows me well.
Don’t misunderstand: I don’t think that it is more spiritual to pray for hardship than to pray for ease. Every once in a while contemporary Christian music comes up with another bring-on-the-hard-stuff, give-me-joy-or-pain, let-the-storms-come song. Maybe I’m missing some lyrics that nuance the songs with a more balanced message, but those songs aren’t on my play list. I find no need to sing or pray for a storm.
Rather than praying for soft or hard, easy or difficult, I believe that the better prayer is that we would experience God in whatever circumstances we find ourselves. I’m wondering today if I spend too much energy praying to God about my circumstances, and too little seeking to hear from Him in the midst of my circumstances. My surface “God change this situation and change it NOW” kind of prayers don’t lead me to the deeper places available to me.
Perhaps for a few days, rather than praying that God would change anything, we’d be wise to pray something along the lines of:
• What lessons are You uniquely teaching me at this time that I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) learn otherwise?
• What courage are You calling out of me in this difficult situation?
• What glory might You be receiving that I’m not seeing from my current perspective?
• What is the broader story that You are writing? The current chapter is confusing me, but this is part of a much bigger story. Would You help me see it? Could I get your perspective on this?
• What comfort will You bring me, character will You develop in me or commission will You grant me in this crisis?
We get lulled to sleep by good times or in such a hurry to get out of hard times that we fail to look for Him at all times. I’m calling us—myself included—to give heed to hearing the voice of God in the midst of the storm or calm.
We can always go back to our “God change this” petitions, but for a few days perhaps we’d be better to spend less time telling Him what He should do and more time asking Him what He is already doing.
Today’s News
The first printing of our book, An Honest Look at a Mysterious Journey, has almost sold out. This is good news for many reasons, one of them being that it gave me the opportunity to have the book re-edited. I was never pleased with the first edit. It wasn’t horrible, but it did contain some glaring and (for me) embarrassing errors. If you didn’t find the errors, good. If you overlooked them, good. If they frustrated you, good . . . they frustrated me as well. But, the second edition meets my standards.
I waited for the newly edited version to be complete before I released it as an e-book. But today, I’m happy to announce that An Honest Look at a Mysterious Journey is now on Kindle at Amazon.com. Please spread the word to any of your Kindle using friends.
And, the second happy announcement that arises from the reprinting is that An Honest Look at a Mysterious Journey will have a small price reduction. Booksnbibles.com continues to be the cheapest online source for the book, but even on Amazon the price has dropped a little.
And, the final happy announcement about my little publishing world is that Book #2 is complete and in the final design/layout stage. I’ll be excited to tell you about it and show you some cover options on the next blog. Ready for another vote?
Interim #3. Book #2. Day #1. Thanks for joining me through all of it. Through the highs and lows, easy and hard, calm and storm . . . may I say it again, “God is in this journey and God can only be good.”
Trusting Him with you today,
John Stumbo
Today’s Reflection
I’m writing from somewhere over South Dakota as I fly from Minneapolis to Portland. Today is Day #1 of “Interim #3” as I begin my role as the pinch hit District Superintendent for the Alliance Northwest. (I’ve had two interim pastoral positions since re-entering ministry in 2010.) I’m very curious what the next months will look like. I’m quite convinced that I’m following God’s lead on this matter. But conviction that I’m doing the right thing has no correlation to whether it will be an easy or difficult thing.
But then, “easy” is over-rated anyway, right?
Earlier this morning I read a poem from Amy Carmichael, a missionary to India for fifty-five years. In part, she wrote,
From prayer that asks that I may be
Sheltered from winds that beat on Thee,
From fearing when I should aspire,
From faltering when I should climb higher,
From silken self, O Captain, free
Thy soldier who would follow Thee.
From subtle love of softening things,
From easy choices, weakenings,
Not thus are spirits fortified,
Not this way went the Crucified,
From all that dims Thy Calvary,
O Lamb of God, deliver me.
Oh, my! Prayers that I be sheltered rather than strong, love of things that soften rather than strengthen, choices that look nothing like Calvary . . . Amy knows me well.
Don’t misunderstand: I don’t think that it is more spiritual to pray for hardship than to pray for ease. Every once in a while contemporary Christian music comes up with another bring-on-the-hard-stuff, give-me-joy-or-pain, let-the-storms-come song. Maybe I’m missing some lyrics that nuance the songs with a more balanced message, but those songs aren’t on my play list. I find no need to sing or pray for a storm.
Rather than praying for soft or hard, easy or difficult, I believe that the better prayer is that we would experience God in whatever circumstances we find ourselves. I’m wondering today if I spend too much energy praying to God about my circumstances, and too little seeking to hear from Him in the midst of my circumstances. My surface “God change this situation and change it NOW” kind of prayers don’t lead me to the deeper places available to me.
Perhaps for a few days, rather than praying that God would change anything, we’d be wise to pray something along the lines of:
• What lessons are You uniquely teaching me at this time that I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) learn otherwise?
• What courage are You calling out of me in this difficult situation?
• What glory might You be receiving that I’m not seeing from my current perspective?
• What is the broader story that You are writing? The current chapter is confusing me, but this is part of a much bigger story. Would You help me see it? Could I get your perspective on this?
• What comfort will You bring me, character will You develop in me or commission will You grant me in this crisis?
We get lulled to sleep by good times or in such a hurry to get out of hard times that we fail to look for Him at all times. I’m calling us—myself included—to give heed to hearing the voice of God in the midst of the storm or calm.
We can always go back to our “God change this” petitions, but for a few days perhaps we’d be better to spend less time telling Him what He should do and more time asking Him what He is already doing.
Today’s News
The first printing of our book, An Honest Look at a Mysterious Journey, has almost sold out. This is good news for many reasons, one of them being that it gave me the opportunity to have the book re-edited. I was never pleased with the first edit. It wasn’t horrible, but it did contain some glaring and (for me) embarrassing errors. If you didn’t find the errors, good. If you overlooked them, good. If they frustrated you, good . . . they frustrated me as well. But, the second edition meets my standards.
I waited for the newly edited version to be complete before I released it as an e-book. But today, I’m happy to announce that An Honest Look at a Mysterious Journey is now on Kindle at Amazon.com. Please spread the word to any of your Kindle using friends.
And, the second happy announcement that arises from the reprinting is that An Honest Look at a Mysterious Journey will have a small price reduction. Booksnbibles.com continues to be the cheapest online source for the book, but even on Amazon the price has dropped a little.
And, the final happy announcement about my little publishing world is that Book #2 is complete and in the final design/layout stage. I’ll be excited to tell you about it and show you some cover options on the next blog. Ready for another vote?
Interim #3. Book #2. Day #1. Thanks for joining me through all of it. Through the highs and lows, easy and hard, calm and storm . . . may I say it again, “God is in this journey and God can only be good.”
Trusting Him with you today,
John Stumbo
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (15)
Sunday, July 15. 2012
Gathering Up Courage
Happy Summer Day to You, Friends,
Thanks for the kind words of "welcome back" from our many friends in the great Pacific Northwest and for all the friendly banter. I accept the picture of a cape-wearing country song writer, but I'm NOT giving up yet on my "reel" mower. (That sentence will make no sense to those who didn't read the comments from the last blog, but don't worry about it!)
When I report in again in two weeks, I'll share more of my summer writing projects . . . the next book, Kindle plans, etc.
But for today, I'm sharing a sampling of a devotional project. My long range goal--and when I say "long range" I mean that my unborn grandchildren may have their driver's license by then--is to have a year-long devotional series from the life of Christ (not just His three years of ministry on earth, but the Genesis 1 involved in creation to the Rev. 21 making a new heaven life of Christ.)
I share this sample devotional, not only to let you in on the kinds of projects I peck away at, but I also sensed that I was being directed to share this theme with you today. May it encourage, enlighten and challenge.
And, since it is devotional thought that arises from Scripture, perhaps you grab your Bible and read the context for what follows.
Today's Reading: Mark 15:42-47
Gathering Up Courage
I once believed that the bravest of all people where those who never experienced fear. I now see that I was wrong.
Today’s reading introduces us to a fascinating man: Joseph the Councilman. He was one of the most respected men in Israel. From what we read in the Gospels, we can safely conclude that he was considered one of the nation’s top spiritual and political leaders and that he was wealthy. He had position, prestige and clout.
He also had a dilemma.
A young prophet arose within his land. As one of the political and spiritual leaders of the nation, it was Joseph’s job to keep an eye on such men. Prophetic voices tended to attract followings. Their nation’s history evidenced that these prophetic followings could cause a great deal of trouble.
However, there seemed to be something unique about this young prophetic voice, Jesus. He spoke as one who had authority. He backed his teachings with stunning miracles. He carried himself in a way that set Him apart from everyone else. And, He infuriated almost all of Joseph’s peers.
Joseph wasn’t alone in his political and spiritual clout. He was part of a ruling body that had genuine authority. Certainly, their authority was carefully restricted and monitored by the Roman government. But, even the sword-wielding Romans knew that the Jewish people were more governable if their own Jewish Council had freedom to operate. Besides, the Romans really didn’t want to get tangled in the maze of Jewish religion.
The majority of the Jewish Council quickly concluded that Jesus was dangerous and blasphemous. His obvious claims to deity deserved nothing less than death. As various attempts to capture and kill Jesus were thwarted, their anger grew. Jesus must die.
One dissenting voice on the Council was Nicodemus. He secretly sought an audience with Jesus (John 3) and verbally defended Jesus in one Council session, but was soundly refuted (John 7:50-52).
The Scripture doesn’t record for us whether Joseph ever spoke up on the Council in Christ’s defense or not. We do know, however, that the life and message of Jesus had impacted him to the point that he had chosen to do something incredibly risky: Joseph the Councilman had become a disciple of Jesus (Matthew 27:57).
However, it is very likely that Joseph—out of self-preservation—had kept secret his decision to follow Christ. The Scripture makes no indication that Joseph made his discipleship publicly known until the crucifixion.
Mark’s description of Joseph’s decision to become identified with Jesus is telling,
“Joseph of Arimathea came, a prominent member of the Council, who himself was waiting for the kingdom of God … gathered up courage and went in before Pilate, and asked for the body of Jesus.” (15:43 NASB)
I once believed that those who had no fear were the most courageous. I now understand that courage is most necessary when fear is present. The one who feels no fear and walks into a situation may be confident or naïve or some combination of the two. But the person who is deeply afraid—yet refuses to let fear win—is the one expressing courage.
Joseph, knowing full well the political risk he was taking, overcomes his deeply held fear, “gathers up courage” and asks for the dead body of the nation’s most wanted criminal. Joseph could hardly have picked a more politically incorrect time to publically identify himself with the Christ.
By taking the responsibility for the proper burial of the body, Joseph was aiding the resistance, siding with the condemned and defying his Council’s decision. From a human standpoint, his political career was over. And, for all we can tell, he didn’t care.
As Joseph watched the horrendous events unfold and result in the unjust death, something shifted in Joseph’s heart. He went from passivity to action; from silence to the boldest of public statements.
With permission granted from Pilate and in full view of the public, Joseph makes the necessary arrangements for burial. He goes to a local vendor, purchases a linen cloth and carries his purchase to the crucifixion hill. In the presence of soldiers and gawkers, Joseph removes the shredded body of Jesus from the cross and lovingly wraps it in the cloth. Next, he transports the body to his own tomb. He lays the corpse of Christ in the place he had prepared for his own body to be laid someday. And, as the last light of day fades, Joseph is last seen in Scripture securing the tomb with a large stone.
It is quite likely that he “sealed” his own fate in the process.
Application: We’ll pick up this theme again, but today’s lesson causes us to pause and ask if there is any place in our lives where we are being silent when we should not be. Does our commitment to follow Christ compel us to speak up when our fear keeps us in silence? Is there some place in our lives that, like Joseph, we need to “gather up courage?”
Benediction: May the God of wisdom grant you discernment to know when it is yours to speak and when to remain silent. May the God of courage grant you the boldness to do what is right. May the God of peace calm your spirit. May the God of grace permeate your every word and action with his sweetness.
Thanks for the kind words of "welcome back" from our many friends in the great Pacific Northwest and for all the friendly banter. I accept the picture of a cape-wearing country song writer, but I'm NOT giving up yet on my "reel" mower. (That sentence will make no sense to those who didn't read the comments from the last blog, but don't worry about it!)
When I report in again in two weeks, I'll share more of my summer writing projects . . . the next book, Kindle plans, etc.
But for today, I'm sharing a sampling of a devotional project. My long range goal--and when I say "long range" I mean that my unborn grandchildren may have their driver's license by then--is to have a year-long devotional series from the life of Christ (not just His three years of ministry on earth, but the Genesis 1 involved in creation to the Rev. 21 making a new heaven life of Christ.)
I share this sample devotional, not only to let you in on the kinds of projects I peck away at, but I also sensed that I was being directed to share this theme with you today. May it encourage, enlighten and challenge.
And, since it is devotional thought that arises from Scripture, perhaps you grab your Bible and read the context for what follows.
Today's Reading: Mark 15:42-47
Gathering Up Courage
I once believed that the bravest of all people where those who never experienced fear. I now see that I was wrong.
Today’s reading introduces us to a fascinating man: Joseph the Councilman. He was one of the most respected men in Israel. From what we read in the Gospels, we can safely conclude that he was considered one of the nation’s top spiritual and political leaders and that he was wealthy. He had position, prestige and clout.
He also had a dilemma.
A young prophet arose within his land. As one of the political and spiritual leaders of the nation, it was Joseph’s job to keep an eye on such men. Prophetic voices tended to attract followings. Their nation’s history evidenced that these prophetic followings could cause a great deal of trouble.
However, there seemed to be something unique about this young prophetic voice, Jesus. He spoke as one who had authority. He backed his teachings with stunning miracles. He carried himself in a way that set Him apart from everyone else. And, He infuriated almost all of Joseph’s peers.
Joseph wasn’t alone in his political and spiritual clout. He was part of a ruling body that had genuine authority. Certainly, their authority was carefully restricted and monitored by the Roman government. But, even the sword-wielding Romans knew that the Jewish people were more governable if their own Jewish Council had freedom to operate. Besides, the Romans really didn’t want to get tangled in the maze of Jewish religion.
The majority of the Jewish Council quickly concluded that Jesus was dangerous and blasphemous. His obvious claims to deity deserved nothing less than death. As various attempts to capture and kill Jesus were thwarted, their anger grew. Jesus must die.
One dissenting voice on the Council was Nicodemus. He secretly sought an audience with Jesus (John 3) and verbally defended Jesus in one Council session, but was soundly refuted (John 7:50-52).
The Scripture doesn’t record for us whether Joseph ever spoke up on the Council in Christ’s defense or not. We do know, however, that the life and message of Jesus had impacted him to the point that he had chosen to do something incredibly risky: Joseph the Councilman had become a disciple of Jesus (Matthew 27:57).
However, it is very likely that Joseph—out of self-preservation—had kept secret his decision to follow Christ. The Scripture makes no indication that Joseph made his discipleship publicly known until the crucifixion.
Mark’s description of Joseph’s decision to become identified with Jesus is telling,
“Joseph of Arimathea came, a prominent member of the Council, who himself was waiting for the kingdom of God … gathered up courage and went in before Pilate, and asked for the body of Jesus.” (15:43 NASB)
I once believed that those who had no fear were the most courageous. I now understand that courage is most necessary when fear is present. The one who feels no fear and walks into a situation may be confident or naïve or some combination of the two. But the person who is deeply afraid—yet refuses to let fear win—is the one expressing courage.
Joseph, knowing full well the political risk he was taking, overcomes his deeply held fear, “gathers up courage” and asks for the dead body of the nation’s most wanted criminal. Joseph could hardly have picked a more politically incorrect time to publically identify himself with the Christ.
By taking the responsibility for the proper burial of the body, Joseph was aiding the resistance, siding with the condemned and defying his Council’s decision. From a human standpoint, his political career was over. And, for all we can tell, he didn’t care.
As Joseph watched the horrendous events unfold and result in the unjust death, something shifted in Joseph’s heart. He went from passivity to action; from silence to the boldest of public statements.
With permission granted from Pilate and in full view of the public, Joseph makes the necessary arrangements for burial. He goes to a local vendor, purchases a linen cloth and carries his purchase to the crucifixion hill. In the presence of soldiers and gawkers, Joseph removes the shredded body of Jesus from the cross and lovingly wraps it in the cloth. Next, he transports the body to his own tomb. He lays the corpse of Christ in the place he had prepared for his own body to be laid someday. And, as the last light of day fades, Joseph is last seen in Scripture securing the tomb with a large stone.
It is quite likely that he “sealed” his own fate in the process.
Application: We’ll pick up this theme again, but today’s lesson causes us to pause and ask if there is any place in our lives where we are being silent when we should not be. Does our commitment to follow Christ compel us to speak up when our fear keeps us in silence? Is there some place in our lives that, like Joseph, we need to “gather up courage?”
Benediction: May the God of wisdom grant you discernment to know when it is yours to speak and when to remain silent. May the God of courage grant you the boldness to do what is right. May the God of peace calm your spirit. May the God of grace permeate your every word and action with his sweetness.
Posted by John Stumbo
| Comments (12)
