Tuesday, August 9, 2016

Culture

 All around our Kansas farm were immigrant settlers from European countries: Sweden, Germany, Russia, Holland, each with their own ethnicity. My Irish dad would flail his arms in the air and say things like: 'You can always tell a Swede, but you can't tell him much!" ...or "That's a stubborn German for you!" There were Mennonite farmers scattered about in our county. "Those people are hard workers and very clannish." Years later when Ted and I were in pastorates, I found out that my dad who was blind to his own "Irish-ness" wasn't so far off- base about others. In our first ministry out of Dallas Seminary, there was one German board member. The Board of Directors never made a decision unless there was unanimity. This one business man was sometimes the hold-out.  The others went to their knees and waited. If the German didn't change his mind,  whatever was on the agenda was put aside. ....'way to go, Ed. Some of your descendants read this blog. You know who you are.

Ted headed up a high school retreat at a Mennonite campground during our next ministry. Those kids were in a Mennonite school during the winter and in the summer were expected to go to the Mennonite retreat. They figured they would have the same ol' meetings in the morning, meetings in the afternoon and meetings at night.  We felt their resistance as soon as they showed up. Ted had imported some of our Young Life buddies to be counsellors who knew that kids need to be kids. Jim Rayburn, a Dallas Seminary grad started that organization. His mantra: "Never, ever bore a kid with the Gospel!" ...back to the camp: We had one meeting at night. All of the "work" was relational. ,,, lovingly carried out by the counsellors who hiked, swam, played volleyball and just hung out with the kids. Over half of the campers came to Christ. ...but we were in big trouble with the Mennonites.  On the last night Ted had a mop on his head in a skit we put on with the counsellors. The kids howled with laughter, but the old Mennonite cook came out of the kitchen and headed straight for the phone on the wall and called the pastor of the Mennonite church back in our little city. That pastor called Ted as soon as we were back in town. "Ted, thank you! I've been trying to break through to these kids ever since I took this pastorate. You're not in trouble with me, but I doubt if the Mennonites will ever invite you to speak at their camp again." ...and they didn't. ...but we had letters from those kids who had come to Christ for years to come. ...so what really matters? Sometimes we lose sight of the goal when the leadership is mad at us. Many of you are in ministry around this world. Take heart. Do your best to figure out the culture and its peculiarities, face your own and HANG ON! There are crazy-making cultural blockades wherever we go. Paul had 'em.  All the Apostles and disciples had 'em. Dear Ted was caught off guard more than once. You see,  he didn't have an Irish dad who was pretty good at figuring out what makes people "tick".

Well, here's the song that contributed to our national mess: The Statue-of-Liberty ditty:

Give us your tired, and your poor. 
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

Trump wants to shut out all Muslims.  Good luck on that, Donald. That's tantamount to closing the barn door after the horses have kicked down the door and are running free. I read back there in Genesis: "He will be a wild donkey of a man; his hand will be against everyone and every one's hand against him, and he will live in hostility toward all his brothers."  No wonder Jesus is personally, mercifully showing up to many Muslims. Did God love Ishmael and does He love his descendants? Of COURSE!

...back in college where Billy Graham had planted me (Boy Howdy! Do I ever get a lot of mileage out his name!) he brought in speakers from around the world...old ones and a few current "stars". One of the "old ones" was Dr. Harry Ironside who was nearly blind. We expected a deep theological message, We got one. "I pastored Moody Bible Church for many years in Chicago. My children couldn't play outside because our winters were bitter cold so we played 'Hide and Seek' in our three story house. One time when my little girl was 'It' I hid in the attic. She looked all over the house for me and finally crept upstairs to the attic but was afraid to open the door to see if I was in there. I realized that and slowly opened the door and gathered her in my arms. She cried out: 'Oh, Daddy. You're not a big bear at all!  You are my own dear Daddy!' "  He poured out His life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors. 

Here is Paula L's (from California City) choice of an old song: "The Love of God"

The love of God is greater far then tongue or pen can ever tell.
It goes beyond the highest star and reaches to the lowest hell.
The guilty pair bowed down with care; God gave His Son to win.
His erring child He reconciled and pardoned from his sin.

Could we with ink the ocean fill, and were the skies of parchment made;
Were every stalk on earth a quill, and every man a scribe by trade.
To write the love of God above would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll contain the whole, though stretched from sky to sky..

OH LOVE OF GOD, HOW RICH AND PURE! HOW MEASURELESS AND STRONG
IT WILL FOREVERMORE ENDURE THE SAINTS' AND ANGELS' SONG.

What hymn do you want me to print?

Love,  Jo




ARCHIVE