The Internet Monk Archives

Walking The Broken Road

I have no idea who she is or what her ailment is. She started coming to my church a few weeks ago. She is hard to miss—a small woman with twisted hands and feet and a rag sticking out of her mouth. But there she was this past Sunday, just a few feet ahead of me as I was walking into the sanctuary. She had stopped at the women’s ministries table to look at something—rag hanging from her teeth like a cat with a fresh mouse. I averted my gaze and went straight in to find a seat.

I saw her once the service had begun, near the front, standing during the music and raising her hands to mimic those around her. “Why did you avoid her?” came the question in my spirit. I knew that voice. And he didn’t seem particularly happy with me right then.

“I don’t know,” was all I could come up with at the moment. Then I thought, “I wonder if anyone has ever prayed for her healing.” The Lord seemed to say in response to that, “Can I not be glorified in her just the way she is? Why do you think everything has to be made the way you think is right?”

I imagine the pastor’s message that day was good, but I didn’t hear it. I was convicted by what the Lord had said to me. Why is it I think everything has to be my shade of “right” in order to be good? Why am I always after “perfect” as I see it rather than as the creator of the universe sees it? As it has been said: There is a God, and you are not he.

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Let’s Discuss…The Lord’s Supper

ducciolastsupper — The Last Supper, Buoninsegna

By Chaplain Mike

One of our most popular posts this year so far was our discussion of baptism back in May. It’s time for another.

Today, I’d like our iMonk community to weigh in on another primary sacrament (or ordinance) of the Christian Church. Whether we call it Communion, the Lord’s Supper, the Eucharist, or the Lord’s Table, today we speak about the meal that Christians share when we gather for worship.

There are obviously many different perspectives among Christians about our sacred meal.

Some partake daily, some weekly, some monthly, some quarterly, some annually. Those who share at the Table more often view this celebration as essential to the very definition of Christian worship. Those who have communion less regularly tend to see it more as an occasion for a special focus on the finished work of Christ.

There are also differences in viewpoints about the elements of bread and wine. Are they symbolic in the sense of merely “representing” or pointing to another reality? Or is Christ actually present in them or with them in some mysterious way?

Who is invited to come to the Table? How should one prepare for this act? What does “taking Communion” do for the participant? Should this ritual be part of a meal? Is it a sacrament or ordinance? Should children partake?

These and many other questions and opinions have been discussed regarding the Lord’s Supper down through the centuries. We are obviously not going to even begin to solve all dilemmas here today. That is not the point. This is a chance for us to discuss our various viewpoints with respect in order to learn and, perhaps, refine our own understandings.

To assist you in getting a handle on a few of the main traditional positions, I will reproduce some statements from official catechisms and teaching sources. I have only included short excerpts; there is obviously much more that each tradition has to say about the Lord’s Supper. For further study, I encourage you to follow the red links and read the full articles.

As with baptism, we especially welcome input from other traditions not represented here.

Finally, I will repeat what I said before the last “Let’s Discuss…” post: I ask that you remain civil and respectful in the discussion. You may be passionate about your viewpoint, and that’s ok. But let’s not be questioning another’s salvation or casting stones of judgment. This is a discussion, and I hope it will be among friends.

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That for which Every Heart Yearns

By Chaplain Mike

This is the time of year a Midwestern boy like me looks forward to with all his heart.

It is, without a doubt, the very best time of year.

For this is the season when the three most wonderful words in the English language fill the air.

Three simple, sublime words.

They are everywhere. These three magnificent words come to mind whenever you drive down the road, almost any road around here. When you are out and about, when you go to the store, when you come home and walk in the back door, you think about these words and they make you smile.

They are the most splendid, the most appealing, the most astounding words ever spoken.

They represent what I believe may be the greatest gift in all of God’s creation.

These words bring the promise of satisfaction, delight, and wonder. They capture our hopes and dreams, the yearning we all have deep within us.

As far as I am concerned, there is no greater three-word phrase in all the world.

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John Stott on Feeling Alive

By Chaplain Mike

“It is in these things, then, that our distinctive humanness lies, in our God-given capacities to think, to choose, to create, to love and to worship.”

• John Stott, The Contemporary Christian, p. 39

Here is a prime example of the gentle, eloquent wisdom of Dr. John Stott. When asked, “When do you feel most alive?” he talks about feeling transported in public worship, enjoying friendship, and observing the wonders of nature.

Angels Unaware

three-angels-visit-abraham-1931 — Chagall, Three Angels Visit Abraham

By Chaplain Mike

The hospice chaplain walked into the room, finally seeing the patient he had put off visiting all day.

It is not that he had been hesitant. The patient, Mr. Gibbs, was scheduled to be transferred to a bed in the hospice unit, but earlier in the day, he heard that they were still waiting for it to happen. That was around 1pm. Since he knew that moving a patient can be an ordeal and not always conducive to subsequent conversation, he left the hospital for awhile to see some folks at home. When he returned, it was after six.

He went to the hospice unit, certain that the patient would be settled in his new bed by then. But when he arrived, the unit secretary was in a tizzy.

“Have you heard anything about the new patient we’re supposed to get?” she asked him, exasperation in her voice. “He was supposed to be here hours ago, but we haven’t seen him. I talked to the floor when I first came in, and they told me they were transferring him, but I haven’t seen or heard anything since. I’ve got to leave here shortly. Do you know what’s going on?”

He didn’t. But he told her he’d be glad to find out. After getting his paperwork in order, he walked up to the floor and into the patient’s room. A young man was by the bed, putting on his coat. “Oh hi,” he said. “I was just getting ready to leave. I’m Dane, Mr. Gibbs’s son.”

“Hello, Dane, I’m Mike, the chaplain from hospice. You and I have spoken on the phone, haven’t we? I won’t stay long; I see you’re getting ready to go, but if it’s OK, I’d love to talk with you for just a few moments.” The son agreed, sat down by his father, and the chaplain pulled up a chair and sat on the other side of the bed.

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A Funeral Rant

By Chaplain Mike

I have been officiating funeral services since I was 22 years old, a young know-nothing pastor in the hills of Vermont.

My first funeral was for an infant who died of SIDS. That service was held on the coldest, rainiest and iciest day I can remember. Outside. At the cemetery. It was pure misery and falling tears, inside and out. I wrote a song in the child’s memory. I’m not sure if I ever sang it for the parents; it might have broken their hearts. I guess in the final analysis I wrote it for myself, as a way of trying somehow to express the desolation of laying a little boy in the ground.

And I have been doing funerals ever since.

That little church in Vermont was more like a parish church, which is true in many rural communities. In that village we had our share of elderly people who lived along the mountain roads, up and down the hills, along the brooks and in the hollers. We also had a good number of vacation homes in the area, some of which had been used by families for generations. Many of them who died had stated their wishes to be buried in our quaint graveyards where their tombstones would look out over the mountains to see the sun rise.

I won’t bore you with a litany of funeral stories, but suffice to say that I’ve done more services than I can remember. To this day, in my work as a hospice chaplain, I still find it one of the greatest privileges of ministry.

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A “Chance” Meeting

Ruthvienna_road — Naomi and Ruth on the road from Moab, entering Bethlehem, Bible Moralisée, Vienna, c.1122

By Chaplain Mike

Ordinary Time Bible Study 2011
The Book of Ruth (7)

We have completed the first part of the story told in the Book of Ruth. Chapter one introduced two problems in need of resolution:

The provision of food for Naomi and her family
The provision of heirs for Naomi and her family

If the Torah is hidden in our hearts, when we read this account we instinctively go back in our minds to the stories of Israel’s ancestors. For here, like there, we read about a pilgrimage because of famine, concerns about adversity with regard to marriage, family, and children, and an unlikely woman who steps forward in an unexpected fashion to take center stage.

This gives us pause and causes us to wonder if God is involved in this story as he was in those foundational narratives.

When last we observed Naomi, she had returned to Bethlehem and was publicly lamenting her situation. Despite the bitterness of her cries, we listened with a sense of anticipation about what might happen next. For there were some hopeful signs.

First, word had come that God had visited his people with food (1:6). Bethlehem was once more “the house of bread,” a place where the hungry might find provision.

Second, Naomi had not returned alone. She was accompanied by her remarkable daughter-in-law Ruth. This young woman, also bereft, had demonstrated a tenacious loyalty and love (hesed) that added new possibility to the circumstances of their return.

Can Naomi’s return, even in her embittered condition, possibly mark the beginning of some surprising good?

Today, we look at Ruth, chapter two.

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iMonk Classic: A Reformation Day Meditation

Classic iMonk Post
by Michael Spencer
From October 31, 2005

Note from CM: On this week when we have been focusing on the Bible, this meditation from Michael Spencer on the state of the church in his region, especially with regard to seriousness about Biblical and theological depth, is a lament and cry for God to send his Word in power to us once more.

• • •

“Behold, the days are coming,” declares the Lord GOD, “when I will send a famine on the land- not a famine of bread, nor a thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the LORD. They shall wander from sea to sea, and from north to east; they shall run to and fro, to seek the word of the LORD, but they shall not find it. (Amos 8:11-12)

On the way to preach at the evening chapel service, I drove past a church building here in our little village. There were probably 30 cars out front, a good crowd on Sunday nights here in the mountains of southeast Kentucky, but especially good because, just a few weeks ago, this building was empty. A few families have left a large Church of God down the road and come down here to start services in this building. Now they appeared to be up to probably 50 people or so. A quick start.

The church that had worshipped in this building before had grown from nothing to several hundred in just a few years. Now they have moved into an elementary school that the board of education vacated, and I expect they may be the largest church in the county right now. The “First Baptist” Church in the county seat runs about 150 on Sunday mornings. This is easily twice that and growing rapidly.

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A Hymn for Ordinary Time (6): Another for Bible Week

By Chaplain Mike

As I’ve thought about hymns to go with our Bible Week emphasis, it strikes me that there are not many songs we sing about the Bible. And that is how it should be. For the point of the Bible is not to point to itself but to the One who revealed his Word to us and who acts in grace toward us in accord with his promises.

One of the great hymns that references the Scriptures is “How Firm a Foundation.” However, only the first verse speaks of the Bible as our foundation. The rest of the lyrics are words from God’s own mouth, reassurances of his unfailing covenant love for his own in Jesus. These words of comfort come to a climax in the magnificent final verse, in which he promises “never, no never, never” to forsake us.

How Firm a Foundation (1787)

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your faith in His excellent Word!
What more can He say than to you He hath said,
You, who unto Jesus for refuge have fled?

Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid;
I’ll strengthen and help thee, and cause thee to stand
Upheld by My righteous, omnipotent hand.

When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of woe shall not thee overflow;
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

When through fiery trials thy pathways shall lie,
My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply;
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine.

The soul that on Jesus has leaned for repose,
I will not, I will not desert to its foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.

Imagination Poor: A Must Read from Skye Jethani

chagall-stained-glass-windows-hadassah-hospital-israel1a — Chagall Window, Hadassah Hospital, Jerusalem

By Chaplain Mike

Back in January, I posted a children’s sermon I gave in a worship service in a quaint old Midwestern Presbyterian sanctuary.

In that message, I focused on the surroundings and elements of the service the boys and girls could observe. I reminisced about what I remembered from my childhood about church—light streaming through the stained glass, the candles, the robed choirs, the pastor’s robe and the deep sound of his voice, and so on. What got my attention, and, I am convinced, my spiritual interest as a child, were those “visual aids” that stimulated my imagination and created a sense of wonder and awe.

Today I am convinced that the church growth movement that created megachurches and contemporary church planting movements based largely on a philosophy of pragmatism have left imagination behind.

We are technology rich and imagination poor.
We are good at stimulating certain surface emotions, bad at arousing deep thought and evoking wonder.
We believe in direct, practical communication, and have no clue about the art of subtle, indirect attraction that elicits curiosity.
We build auditoriums without windows and hide from the full spectrum of heaven’s light.
We are all prose and no poetry.
We are lyrics without music.
We are all legal brief and grocery list and no fairy tale.
We are draftsman’s drawings and there are no Giottos or Chagalls among us.
We are warehouse workers, with no more cathedrals towering over us, lifting our eyes to the heavens.

A remarkable post by Skye Jethani at Out of Ur called “Worship through a Child’s Eyes” broke my heart anew in this regard. Out of a child’s mouth (in this case her journal) comes an eloquent testimony of how “imagination poor” we have become and the impressions it is leaving on our children.

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