Category: repentance

A Savior of “Crazy People”

“For you are all children of the light and of the day; we don’t belong to darkness and night.”

1 Thess. 5:5

This is my personal testimony of the grace of God.

A year before I received Christ as my Savior, I was hospitalized in a U.S. Army psychiatric ward.  My uniform was replaced with the distinctive attire of a mental patient.  Ironically, I’d been attached to the same hospital working on the pediatric floor. 

And to make things only slightly more surreal was that a medic there on the psych ward was someone I bought drugs from!

Previous to this hospitalization, I had dropped two hits of LSD and found myself in an awful mess.  It was night out and I was hallucinating badly.  I had lost control of my thoughts.  I had pretty much flipped out and it entered my drug-saturated brain that the darkness would kill me, that very night!

Utterly convinced I was going to die, my mind seized upon the street lights outside. 

If I could stay in that illuminated circle I would escape dying. Somehow I knew that the light would save me. So I remained under that street light for several hours.  As I stood I could see very clearly the boundary between the light and the dark.  I knew I was safe as long as I didn’t wander, I knew I would stay safe.

But despite that very traumatic experience, the drugs and my mental instability continued to slide. 

I was now shooting up cocaine, crossing my “no needle rule.”  I also became quite the heavy drinker, with whiskey for breakfast.  I had one basic rule though.  As a medic who worked in maternal/child health, I had one of the best assignments in the Army.  Many people coveted it, and I was not going to endanger it with drugs or alcohol. 

I never went on duty loaded.  That was my rule. I would be the best medic the Army ever had.

Shortly after my psych ward discharge, I was reassigned to Labor & Delivery on the night shift.  One slow time I was pulled from my duty there to go on an ambulance run as the medic in charge.  We were called to the officer’s housing where an older man had died in bed. This got me thinking.  Back at the hospital, I returned to L&D.  But on the way back I took a shortcut through a ward on another floor.  That’s when I found it!

On a waiting room table was a small book called, “More Than a Carpenter” by Josh McDowell.  I picked it up, reading it right on duty because there was no one in the delivery room.  By the end of my shift, I was well on my way to becoming a Christian.  It was a book solidly speaking of the light, and of the dark.  And I knew beyond a doubt that I couldn’t remain in the dark anymore.

I was honorably discharged from the U.S. Army in June of 1982. 

I became a born-again believer shortly after that.  I went to Bible College that October.  Life has become radically different, and over time, I became a missionary, pastor, and Bible college instructor. 

I married my sweetheart and I now have a wonderful family. I attend a great and wonderful church faithfully.

I want to tell you that Jesus is real, He is alive and the Bible is true.  I have been lifted from the dark and I am not afraid anymore.  Jesus is my light.

“The people who sat in darkness
    have seen a great light.
And for those who lived in the land where death casts its shadow,
    a light has shined.”

Matthew 4:16

Some Very Good Links:

“How to be Saved,” gotquestions.com

Alaska Bible Institute, my Bible College, (a great school)

“More Than a Carpenter”, by Josh McDowell, (check it out on Amazon) 

 

The Art of Denying Jesus

deny

“Suddenly, Jesus’ words flashed through Peter’s mind: “Before the rooster crows, you will deny three times that you even know me.” And he went away, weeping bitterly.”

Matthew 26:75, NLT

Three denials are followed by three reaffirmations.

“A third time he asked him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter was hurt that Jesus asked the question a third time. He said, “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Then feed my sheep.”

John 21:17

The apostle Peter was a fervent disciple. He knew who Jesus was before most. He was always included in special times (e.g. the transfiguration, Gethsemane). He was favored by Jesus throughout times of ministry. I also believe that he was Jesus’ friend.

Peter is known for:

  • being called on the shores of Galilee, Matt 4:18-19
  • ‘almost,’ sort of, walking on water, Matt 14:29-30
  • finding the tax money in a fishes’ mouth, Matt 17:24-27
  • having his feet washed, John 13:6-7
  • in Gethsemane– cutting off an ear, John 18:10-11
  • his remorse at denying Jesus, Matt 26:75
  • running to the empty tomb with John, John 20:3-8

Peter’s own denials were of a serious nature affecting who he was, and who he was to become. Jesus astutely intervenes as they ‘breakfasted’ on the seashore. There would be three affirmations; one for each denial. Peter needed to meet the resurrected Jesus, and speak with him about what he had done. Peter needed this.

A denial has different intensities and can be understood in many different ways.

Out of our own confusion, we realize that we can also deny Jesus. Perhaps frequently.  (And none of us have any immunity as of yet.) We deny the Lord when we refuse to speak of him to others. We deny the Lord when we fail to do what is right. Sometimes we deny him flagrantly, other times it is a more subtle attitude. At best, we’re still inconsistent, and at worst (I hate to say it,) apostates.

We’re not punished or abandoned for this behavior.

(It seems like we punish ourselves though.)

Human logic would suggest that we should be condemned. But instead we are gently restored. Given the opportunity, Peter the fisherman, would eventually become a wise shepherd to the young Church. I would suggest that Peter’s personal weakness would serve him well as a gentle, and caring pastor.

Peter now understood these things, and he would be careful and gentle.

“God appoints our graces to be nurses to other men’s weaknesses.”

 Henry Ward Beecher

Peter, near the end of his life, goes ‘full circle’ and uses a very precise Greek word found in only two places in the New Testament. It is the specific form of the word “shepherd.” It is only used in John 21:16-17 in Peter’s restoration, and in 1 Peter 5:2. Peter encourages the Church with the same words Jesus himself spoke to him on the beach so long ago!

Peter wrote this:

“Be shepherds of God’s flock that is under your care, watching over them—not because you must, but because you are willing.”

1 Peter 5:2

 

Rembrandt’s Prodigal Son

Rembrandt-The_return_of_the_prodigal_son
Rembrandt, “The Return of the Prodigal Son,” c. 1661

17 “But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! 18 I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’ 20 And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. 21 And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. 23 And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. 24 For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.

Luke 15:17-24, ESV

Two hundred and eighty-nine words– these describe the life of every man, woman, and child who has ever lived. These 289 words reveal to us a God who loves far too much, way too easy. Perhaps we sort of expect that he will ‘appropriately’ punish his son– at least put him on probation at least. It only makes sense. But we find that is legalism talking.

“Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.” 

Many of us have lived as prodigals, and we have spent our inheritance like ‘drunken sailors.’ We really have nothing at all to show for it. The prodigal, completely destitute, takes the only work he can find. (Imagine a good Jewish boy feeding hogs.)

He is so far gone that he starts inspecting the filthy slop buckets for something to eat.

Many of us will understand his despair. Often there comes to us a crystalline moment of simple awareness. The prodigal, sin-crusted and impoverished, still has a lingering memory of the Father’s house.

The servants there had far more than him right now. Sometimes I wonder if in our captivity, we instinctively want to go home, if only in our minds, to be a servant there.

The Father has dreamed of this precise moment.

The parable says, “He saw him–felt compassion–ran out to him–embraced him–and kissed him.” The Father is a whirlwind of agape love. I’ve read the Parable of the Prodigal Son a hundred times or more. It never loses its punch. I simply want to bring some observations: 

  • We see that his father receives him with a tender gesture. His hands seem to suggest mothering and fathering at once; the left appears larger and more masculine, set on the son’s shoulder, while the right is softer and more receptive in gesture.
  • The son’s head is downy, almost like a newborn’s. We must enter the kingdom like little children. 
  • The Prodigal Son seems to be protected by his father. He snuggles near the Father’s breast. It’s love that holds him there.
  • Consider his sandals. It has taken a long time for him to come home. 
  • Standing at the right is the prodigal son’s older brother, who crosses his hands in stoic judgment; we read in the parable that he objects to the father’s compassion for his brother.
  • We see his mother in the background in the painting, and a seated steward or counselor. One stands in profound joy, the other in sits in stunned perplexity.

But Rembrandt had painted the Prodigal once before, when he was considerably younger. And it is a very good painting. The prodigal is happy and gay; there is absolutely no indication of the consequences of sin.

The Prodigal Son in the Brothel, 1635

He’s a charming young man at the height of his popularity, and we see him at a happy party. He is spending the inheritance of his father.

But Rembrandt chooses at the very end of his life to re-paint it to reflect reality.

This is one of the last paintings he will do, and it is the Prodigal Son–destitute and repenting. I can only imagine; the years have taken a toll and he doesn’t really feel his first painting is enough. He wants to paint what is true.

He now is painting our spiritual condition.

We are given a work that some critics call as the greatest painting ever completed. The painting is now in St. Petersburg, Russia. It is seldom seen by visitors. It is a clear echo of the grace of God for fallen men and women. Like the father in the painting, He’s ready to forgive every sin saturated son and daughter.

The Father’s Prodigal

bry-signat (1)

 

From Vessel to Vessel

amphora_on_stand

“Moab has been at ease from his youth, and he has settled on his lees, and has not been emptied from vessel to vessel, neither has he gone into captivity: therefore his taste remained in him, and his scent is not changed.”

Jeremiah 48:11, ESV

The expression, “emptied from vessel to vessel” is a figure that speaks of wine making. It relates to a method used to produce a well-refined wine, which is poured into a vessel and allowed to stand for a certain length of time. Then it is poured into another vessel.

Each time this is done, there is a settling of the dregs and sediment which remain in the container, as the wine-maker carefully pours the liquid into another vessel. This process is repeated until the wine is perfectly refined and yields a freshness of fragrance and color that is pleasing to the maker.

This result will not occur if the wine had been allowed to stay in only one vessel. Instead, it would have “settled upon its lees” and become scented with the essence of the dregs. Because the intention of the Lord is to bring us to spiritual maturity, we also are carefully poured from vessel to vessel.

We’re being poured from one dealing to another.

As we yield to His purpose, the Holy Spirit will see to it that we are brought, step upon step (vessel by vessel), into spiritual growth and maturity. With our wills yielded, and our spirits mellowed, we shall then become “wine, well refined.”

Once we understand what we are by nature, we realize that no natural power could carry out so massive of  an undertaking. If ever this is to be accomplished, the power must come from a source other than ourselves. Thus, the Lord simply asks us to become willing, yielded, broken material upon which to work, and He will furnish the means and power for our transformation.

The Lord does not say the vessels are all alike.

That would spoil the teaching given in this figure. Rather, the vessels are quite different, scarcely two being alike. Let’s consider a few in order to enlarge our understanding.

The first is a vessel made of tinted glass.

As the wine is emptied within, it assumes a color that results from the hue of the glass. This is the vessel of misunderstanding. People then judge the wine as being “off-color.” An endless course of reasons ensues as to the cause of its being thus.

The “wine” is aware of these remarks, and as a result has a difficult time remaining still and submitted, so the sediment might settle and cling to the sides and bottom of the vessel. All this keeps the wine in a disturbed state, until finally it discovers that it is really what it should be at this time of its development, since only the glass (dealing) is tinted. Thus there is a delay and a longer time is needed to produce clear wine.

The Maker waits for it to become settled and then carefully pours it into another vessel. All that is left behind are a few dregs of self-importance and some shreds of the self-life.

There is the vessel of being in the public eye.

As the wine is poured out, it beholds the new vessel, a large but shallow receptacle, gray and ugly. At first there is a shrinking, for the vessel seems so unusual, and so absolutely unlike any into which it had been before emptied. As the wine is poured, it is so wide that it fills the entire open vessel. This is the vessel of “public gaze.” It is where the Lord pours us when we are to experience ‘weakness.’

The wine cannot gather itself up to appear in any other shape. It must spread out flat and be open to public judgment and criticism. The snide remarks hinder the wine from becoming quiet, yielded, and silent. But as it realizes that this is a necessary step in its perfection, it becomes settled and is again poured out. Clinging to the sides of the ugly, gray vessel are the dregs of pride and self-preservation, but added to the wine is a richer hue.

There is the vessel of isolation.

The next vessel is made of clay. It is tall with a long narrow neck, and is not transparent. Thus, it reflects no light. As the wine is poured, it has difficulty getting adjusted, owing to the darkness and a fear as to the certainty that it belongs there. But at last it yields and fills the vessel in ‘quietness.’

Here it stands for a long period of time, in shadow and darkness. At times, the wine faintly hears the music and delightful cries of those without who are in the light, but the clay allows no participation, nor affinity of satisfaction. The wine can only remember the light it had found in former days, and simply trust that it will shine again.

There’a another trial of a dark and bitter trial.

This is the vessel of long, dark trial; the kind in which the Lord leaves us alone in order to prove us, even in shadow and darkness. But it works wonders in the wine. As it is again poured forth, it gleams with the light of faith, tried and tested. Left behind are the dregs of impatience, questioning, and unbelief.

There is the vessel of misunderstanding.

Again the wine is poured into a new vessel, which is unusual in size and unique in design. It has many bulges and ridges. Therefore, the wine has a difficult time finding its way into the many bulges, odd nooks, and corners. Those who watch, immediately conclude that the wine is in the wrong vessel, and that it was never called to go into such a receptacle. Thus, it appears to others that the wine’s leading and witness is wrong. This is the vessel of misunderstanding.

The Lord’s ways are not our ways; thus, His ways are often incomprehensible. The Lord seldom explains to others the leadings which He lays upon those who are His own. It is certainly death to our flesh to be led into situations that produce criticism from others, and then not be able to satisfy their reasoning’s. Thus, the wine finds no pleasure in this vessel, but it had been poured and must now fill the vessel.

“The same Jesus who turned water into wine can transform your home, your life, your family, and your future. He is still in the miracle-working business, and His business is the business of transformation.”

     Adrian Rogers