The Widow's Mite and The Missionary's Joy by Wil Triggs

Jesus sat down near the collection box in the Temple and watched as the crowds dropped in their money. Many rich people put in large amounts. Then a poor widow came and dropped in two small coins. Jesus called his disciples to him and said, “I tell you the truth, this poor widow has given more than all the others who are making contributions. For they gave a tiny part of their surplus, but she, poor as she is, has given everything she had to live on.”  (Mark 12:41-44, NLT)

Jesus’ observation seems almost absurdly out of step with our world. I mean, what financial planner would tell the widow to give the way Jesus praised her for giving? We don’t expect that kind of giving. It isn’t wise, not to mention that her two small coins wouldn’t get her into members-only events at the temple or get her name engraved on a brick or stone.

Did she give because of the well-run temple? Because she liked the priests? Because of the beauty of the temple building itself? Or did she give because she knew someone who was even worse off than she herself? Had she been waiting to give until the priests did things the way she thought they ought to be done?

The gospel writer described her as a “poor widow.” Two strikes against her. She was the one in need. In just a few years, the apostles would focus on caring for people like her in the newly born church. And a few years later, the temple would be destroyed.

That widow was no more in step with the giving of her own time as with ours. Yet perhaps her greatest need at that moment was what prompted her to give, and it didn’t have anything to do with the temple.  

She wasn’t in step with the world she lived in, but she was in step with the heart of God.

When I served with Russian Ministries and we had summer camp ministries in Russia, I got to know an elderly lady, a retired missionary, who attended College Church. She walked her donation for the camp outreach to the mission's office rather than mail it in. She gave enough to send at least one child to camp. For her, this gift was personal and from the heart.

A few years later, I was getting ready to go on one of our STAMP trips as part of that same camping outreach. The retired missionary lady enthusiastically gave toward the trip.

She wasn’t a widow. She had never been married. As I got to know her, I realized what an amazing and unrecognized lifetime of service she had given to God.

But you kind of had to find that out along the way. She wasn’t interested in people knowing the triumphs of her life—and God had used her overseas in some amazing ways. Now, she wanted me to know that she cared. She was genuinely excited about the kids and wanted to give. The gift she gave was monetary, but a lot more. Her humility, excitement to be a part of God’s work and her spirit of service shined brightly.

And there she was, this time wanting to give her gift not to the mission’s office, but into my hands, to give to the trip.

There are many reasons to give or not give. But the spirit of the widow Jesus praised and this missionary who befriended me amaze me.

The widow Jesus praised wasn’t a parable. She was a real person. She gave real money, the last she had, to a real institution. She would be one of the people we would say ought not to give. But maybe it wasn’t the institution she was giving to at all, but the God of all things, her maker, creator, redeemer and friend.

Where did the widow get her next meal? What happened? Is there ever a time when it’s bad to give more to God?

That retired missionary lady has moved away. I think of her often. She had such joy when she gave her money away. I am confident that if she is still alive, she is more and more like Jesus in what she gives away. And that doesn’t even get at her faithful prayer support for us and many others.

I don’t think they teach this stuff in Bible college or seminary. But Jesus didn’t shy away from it.

Think of the rich young ruler who went away sad because of Jesus' admonition to give his wealth away to the poor. Think of the alabaster jar of pure nard that Judas, the keeper of the money, thought should have been sold and given away to the poor. He thought of it as a terrible waste poured out on Jesus before he paid the ultimate price and gave more than any of us ever will.  And he wasn't the only one.

We were watching a news program a few days ago and the talking heads were talking about how a second stimulus check may be coming.

Really? Probably not, I thought at the time. It’s such a crazy time, isn’t it.

As we watched together, Lorraine said, “If that happens, let’s just give it to the church.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Good idea.”

I confess, while her head was going there, I was thinking about using it to get a new front door. If you saw our door, you’d know what I mean. So I don’t have it all figured out. But the spirit of the widow, and the missionary lady, I don’t know . . .

There’s something about giving and living the way they did that doesn’t make sense in this world. Yet their examples are a crying out “Yes” from somewhere that’s not in this here-and-now great and wondrous world, but from a different place than we naturally know.

Like a master washing the feet of his servants.  

Like thousands eating lunch from one boy’s lunch where the baskets of leftovers are far more than the few fish and loaves they started with.

Or like the empty net cast on the other side, filling with so many fish that the net starts to break. That’s crazy. I mean, why?

Most out of step of all, the king of heaven leaving the splendor and wonder of it all to be born in a manger, to die forsaken and alone, some of the last words spilling out of his mouth like the blood from his side, “Forgive them.”

Jesus, help us break the alabaster jar, whatever that means, and pour it out in worship—never looking back, not looking at others, only gazing at you. All for you, sweet carpenter, fisher of people, gentle shepherd. Master. Friend. God who saves us from the cares of this world and walks before us into today and tomorrow and all that is to come.

It Is Well With My Soul

By H. E. Singley, organist

Therefore, since we have been made right in God’s sight by faith,

we have peace with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us.

(Romans 5:1, NLT)

Once you were far away from God, but now you have been brought near to him

 through the blood of Christ. For Christ himself has brought peace to us.

(Ephesians 2:13b, 14a, NLT)

The backstory is well-known by many Christian worshipers. Horatio Spafford was a nineteenth-century Presbyterian layman and Chicago attorney who lost much of his material wealth in the great Chicago fire of 1871. Two years later, his wife, Anna, and their four daughters were headed to Europe for a family vacation and were among 313 passengers and crew on a transatlantic voyage aboard the S.S. Ville du Havre. (The ship’s name is the title Philip P. Bliss gave to the music he composed for these words.) On November 22, 1873, the Ville du Havre collided with another vessel on the high seas, splitting in half. All four daughters were numbered with the 226 women, men and children who perished in the quickly sinking ship. After finally arriving in Great Britain, Mrs. Spafford was able to send a telegram to her husband back in Chicago with the terse phrase, “Saved alone.” As he was en route to rendezvous with his wife, Horatio Spafford wrote this hymn, it is said, near where his daughters lost their lives.

When peace like a river attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
"It is well, it is well, with my soul."

Refrain:
It is well with my soul,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, tho' trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul. (Refrain)

My sin—O the bliss of this glorious thought,
My sin—not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul! (Refrain)

And, Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll,
The trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend,
"Even so"—it is well with my soul. (Refrain)

Spafford’s poetry speaks of the tranquility of a river, then juxtaposes the turmoil of a sea, thereby suggesting that bewildering uncertainty is endemic to human reality—our “lot.” Stanza two begins with a similarly daunting disclosure—certain contention with Satan, inevitable adversity. (Spafford had first-hand experience!) Halfway through that same stanza, he does an about-face toward the ultimate resolution of our desperate condition, the shedding of Christ’s blood to account for the totality of our unmitigated destitution. Stanza three further elaborates on Christ’s substitutionary death and its all-encompassing extirpation of the foundational and otherwise unsolvable human defect—our sin—ending with a fervent paean of praise!

Stanza four takes us to the apostle Paul’s words in I Thessalonians 4 via II Corinthians 5:

For we live by faith, not by sight.

(II Corinthians 5:7, NIV)

For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a commanding shout,

with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God.

First, the believers who have died will rise from their graves.

 Then, together with them, we who are still alive and remain on the earth

will be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air.

Then we will be with the Lord forever. So encourage each other with these words.

(I Thessalonians 4:16-18, NLT)

Then, the poetry comes full circle: “It is well, it is well with my soul.” In the midst of the vicissitudes of life, praise the Lord—yes, praise the Lord—it IS well!

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding,

will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

(Philippians 4:7, ESV)

IDEAS FOR LISTENING

• Listen for the melody of the hymn-tune throughout.

• The music reflects three of the four stanzas, with a brief introduction derived from the refrain.

• The middle stanza portrays the “about-face” mentioned above in connection with stanza three of the poem by means of the shift from the minor mode and an overall ponderous sense to a major key and lighter texture.

• The final stanza of music attempts to reinforce the hope and anticipation which the words convincingly affirm.

• The refrain is heard in its entirety only after the final stanza, ending tranquilly, with quiet confidence.

• Sing the hymn–words AND music, all four stanzas–even if you’re by yourself!

The Mother Who Chose to Die by Wil Triggs

A few years back, our summer book group read Bryan Litfin’s book Getting To Know The Church Fathers. I had not known much about the people featured in this book. So often I don’t look back in church history, and if I do, I don’t look before the Reformation unless it’s at the lives of the apostles or their contemporaries. Bryan's book opened up the people in between, people I never paid attention to before.

There is one person in this book who was not a church father at all, but a church mother.

Since it’s Mother’s Day tomorrow, it seems a good time to ponder the life of Perpetua, a Christian woman who lived in Carthage and died there at the beginning of the third century.

She was a mother, but barely. Her only child was just an infant when she was thrown in prison. After a time of separation from her baby, arrangements were made to get her baby to her so she could nurse and care for the infant while imprisoned.

Separation from her baby put Perpetua in great turmoil, but that was lifted when her child was brought to her. At that, “I grew strong and was relieved from distress and anxiety from my infant and the dungeon became for me as a palace, so that I preferred being there to anywhere else.”

Only 22 at the time of her death, Perpetua had to choose what to sacrifice. If she gave up her faith in Christ, and recanted, she would be freed. She could return to her family, raise her child, probably bear more children and live a long(er) life.

Her father put considerable pressure on her to choose recantation. After all, her baby needed her. He, in his old age, also needed her. These were natural responsibilities and obligations with family and the culture of the time. How could she turn her back on them for this religion?

And the government itself appealed to her maternal nature. 

“Spare the infancy of your boy, and offer sacrifice for the well-being of the emperors,” the governor pleaded.

“I will not do so,” she replied.

This exchange took place with her desperate father among the crowd watching.

“Are you a Christian?” the governor asked.

“Yes,” she answered, “I am a Christian.”

And with that, the death sentence was passed. Her father took his grandson, and she never saw her baby again.

The more difficult sacrifice was the one she chose. Dare we consider what our answer would be were we to face such a question?

The roles we take on in life, even those that seem so core to who we are—what are they in light of the eternal family? I don’t mean to downplay our families, my wife, my son, those dearest to my heart. What a terrible choice. But Jesus? Can he be tossed away for the call of home? Certainly there were others in her time who chose to do that.

I’m not sure who might be on your list of “spiritual mothers,” but I’m fairly certain that Perpetua would not make the list. Her story is so old and strange to modern eyes.

But she knew well the call of Jesus on her life. That call mattered more to her than her father or her child or even her own life. This is a faith worth emulating and a mother worth celebrating. May we never have to face such a choice, but let’s consider Perpetua in light of whatever circumstance we face today.

“Yes. I am a Christian.”

Come Christians Join to Sing

By H. E. Singley, organist

Come, let us sing to the Lord!    

Let us shout joyfully to the Rock of our salvation.

(Psalm 95:1, NLT)

There are several passages in Scripture which begin with the imperative, “Come.”

Come, see the glorious works of the Lord:

See how he brings destruction upon the world.

(Psalm 46:8)

“Come now, let’s settle this,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are

like scarlet, I will make them as white as snow.
Though they are red like crimson, I will make them as white as wool.”

(Isaiah 1:18)

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary

and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” 

(Matthew 11:28)

He who is the faithful witness to all these things says,

“Yes, I am coming soon!” Amen! Come, Lord Jesus!

(Revelation 22:20)

The psalmist issues the invitation in Psalm 46, the Lord in Isaiah 1, and Jesus in Matthew 11. In Revelation 22, Jesus promises that He is coming soon, at which point John the apostle makes the entreaty, pleading that Jesus come—and come quickly!

In the meantime, in the “not yet,” consider again Psalm 100, verses one and two.

Shout with joy to the Lord, all the earth! Worship the Lord with gladness.    

Come before him, singing with joy.

Consider the verse, “Come before him, singing with joy.” This invitation to come and sing is the emphasis of “Come, Christians, Join to Sing.”

Come, Christians, join to sing Alleluia! Amen!
Loud praise to Christ our King; Alleluia! Amen!
Let all, with heart and voice, before His throne rejoice;
Praise is His gracious choice: Alleluia! Amen!

Come, lift your hearts on high, Alleluia! Amen!
Let praises fill the sky; Alleluia! Amen!
He is our Guide and Friend; to us He’ll condescend;
His love shall never end: Alleluia! Amen!

Praise yet our Christ again, Alleluia! Amen!
Life shall not end the strain; Alleluia! Amen!
On heaven’s blissful shore His goodness we’ll adore,
Singing forevermore, “Alleluia! Amen!”

Poet Christian Henry Bateman was a nineteenth-century English pastor who began his service in the Moravian Church. While still in his thirties, he pastored three Congregational churches in Scotland and England. When in his fifties, he was ordained in the Church of England, serving three different parishes. “Come, Christians, Join to Sing” was part of a hymnal this pastor edited, Sacred Melodies for Sabbath Schools and Families, which had an influential and widespread role in Sunday Schools in Scotland. In its original presentation, the text began, “Come, Children, Join to Sing.” The hymn-tune, Madrid, is designated as a traditional Spanish melody with no composer identified.

 Here, we have a simple text of praise—“loud praise”—to Christ and is an invitation to all Christians to engage “heart and voice,” to “fill the sky” with praise to our King, our Guide and our Friend—the one who, in truth, did “condescend” (cf. Philippians 2:6-8) and whose love for us “shall never end.” Like Christ’s unending love, our praise does not end when our earthly sojourn is completed but endures with “singing forevermore” in eternity.

 This theme of praise is for all Christians. Some say, “But, I can’t sing.” The late Don Hustad, chairman of the music department of Moody Bible Institute, organist for Billy Graham’s crusades in the 1960s, professor of church music at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and editor of numerous hymnals, once said that the point is not whether you can sing, but that as a redeemed child of God,  you have a song!

He has given me a new song to sing,    

a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see what he has done and be amazed.    

They will put their trust in the Lord.

(Psalm 40:3)

Hustad writes, “[This] new song was a different [emphasis added] song—a song of victory and praise—as compared to the earlier song of defeat and lament.” (Hustad, True Worship, p. 130).

He also once said that the only music that the Church cannot do without is congregational song. (Even a choir and any other group of musicians or soloists are best understood as an extension of the congregation in the context of public worship!)

In Music through the Eyes of Faith, Harold Best writes:

Corporate singing and hymnody in all of its forms, types, and presentational modes . . . . is the heart of all church music, therefore the most important. Congregational song is not only primary because it is corporate. Of equal importance, in the union of text and music, is that the entire worshiping body is given full responsibility for singing to and about God and proclaiming the gospel. This further implies—and the rich history of hymnody has proven it possible—that the body of hymnody employed by any church is incomplete until, by constant use, it discloses the entire counsel of God. In other words, a congregation is just as responsible to sing the gospel as the preachers are to preach it.[Emphasis added.]

So, come, Christians, join in song! Let all—every man, woman and child—rejoice! Alleluia! Amen!

Come, let us worship and bow down.

Let us kneel before the Lord our maker for he is our God.

• Listen for the melody of the hymn-tune throughout.

• There are three stanzas of text and the equivalent in music.

• Sing the hymn–words AND music–even if you’re by yourself!

A Prayer for this Saturday by Wendell C. Hawley

From A Pastor Prays for His People by Wendell C. Hawley

Holy Father, God of our salvation

We take refuge in your divinely appointed sanctuary—

the covert, the asylum—

where we are protected from the condemnation and judgment of sin.

Once upon a time we did not care about our sinful condition.

Sin was fun, righteousness was old-fashioned.

God? Unnecessary.

Salvation? Irrelevant.

But everlasting thanks to you, glorious God,

friend of sinners,

rescuer of the perishing—

You tenderized my heart,

opened my eyes,

enlightened my understanding,

sanitized my desires,

directed my pathway.

And now the God of peace,

the great Shepherd,

through the blood of the everlasting covenant, works in me to do his will.

O let us praise God!

May the praise of your people never cease.

We gladly give thanks for your goodness, which is our daily benefit.

Your provisions for us surprise us continually.

Your mercies refresh us in every time of need.

Praise be to God, we are never placed on some “quota” system—

You have never said to any of your beloved,

“That’s all the grace you get, lest I run out.”

No, never . . . never!

We are promised grace for every time of need.

I shall list all my needs—every one—and still your grace is sufficient

Economic quandaries?

Health issues?

Difficult decisions?

Troublesome relationships?

Sinful allurements?

Failed plans and promises?

Unanswered prayers?

These, and more, we leave with you, assured that as our Great Shepherd

you will care for your sheep.

Evermore do we rest in you, O Lord, our strength and our Redeemer.

Amen

Psalm 29 (We Cry Glory)

By Erik Dewar, pastor of worship and music

Psalm 29

Ascribe to the LORD, O heavenly beings,

ascribe to the LORD glory and strength.

Ascribe to the LORD the glory due his name;

worship the LORD in the splendor of holiness.

The voice of the LORD is over the waters;

the God of glory thunders,

the LORD, over many waters.

The voice of the LORD is powerful;

the voice of the LORD is full of majesty.

The voice of the LORD breaks the cedars;

the LORD breaks the cedars of Lebanon.

He makes Lebanon to skip like a calf,

and Sirion like a young wild ox.

The voice of the LORD flashes forth flames of fire.

The voice of the LORD shakes the wilderness;

the LORD shakes the wilderness of Kadesh.

The voice of the LORD makes the deer give birth

and strips the forests bare,

and in his temple all cry, “Glory!”

The LORD sits enthroned over the flood;

the LORD sits enthroned as king forever.

May the LORD give strength to his people!

May the LORD bless his people with peace!

Praise the Savior, Ye Who Know Him

By H. E. Singley, organist

All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly realms because we are united with Christ.

(Ephesians 1:3, NLT)

Thomas Kelly was born in County Queens in Ireland and was preparing to be a lawyer when he recognized the call to become a pastor. He was ordained in the Church of Ireland (Anglican). However, his pastoral ministry in the Church of Ireland was rather short-lived because of his fervent preaching along the lines of the Reformation and, particularly, its emphasis on justification by faith. He established “dissenter” chapels which shared that concern in several locations around Ireland.

A graduate of Trinity College, Dublin, Thomas Kelly was respected as a scholar, particularly in Hebrew. He wrote at least 765 hymns, four of which are included in Hymns for the Living Church. Three of those hymns are Ascension hymns, represented by this brief excerpt from “Hark! Ten Thousand Harps and Voice”:

. . . . Jesus reigns and heaven rejoices,

Jesus reigns, the God of love.

See, He sits on yonder throne:

Jesus rules the world alone.

Probably the best-known of his hymns is “Praise the Savior, Ye Who Know Him,” a crisp, compact lyrical poem with five focused, four-line stanzas. The music is identified simply as a “Traditional German melody.” The hymn-tune name, Acclaim, comes from the hymn’s theme of praise and adoration to Christ.

Praise the Savior, ye who know Him!

Who can tell how much we owe Him?

Gladly let us render to Him

all we are and have.

Jesus is the name that charms us;

He for conflict fits and arms us;

nothing moves and nothing harms us

while we trust in Him.

Trust in Him, ye saints, forever;

He is faithful, changing never;

neither force nor guile can sever

those He loves from Him.

Keep us, Lord, O keep us cleaving

to Thyself, and still believing,

till the hour of our receiving

promised joys with Thee.

Then we shall be where we would be,

then we shall be what we should be;

things that are not now, nor could be,

soon shall be our own.

The hymn complements what we know of Thomas Kelly’s view of Scripture by poetry which mirrors the Bible. For example:
 

·       “. . . . Who can tell how much we owe Him? . . . .”

“But God is so rich in mercy, and he loved us so much . . . . God can point to us in all future ages as examples of the incredible wealth of his grace and kindness toward us, as shown in all he has done for us . . . .”

(Ephesians 2:4, 7a)

·       “ . . . . let us render to Him all we are and have. . . .”

“Honor the Lord with your wealth and with the best part of everything you produce.”

(Proverbs 3:9)

“And so, dear brothers and sisters, I plead with you to give your bodies to God because of all he has done for you. Let them be a living and holy sacrifice—the kind he will find acceptable. This is truly the way to worship him.”

(Romans 12:1)

·       “ . . . . He for conflict fits and arms us . . . .”

“Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies of the devil.”

(Ephesians 6:10b, 11)

Another phrase fraught with theological implications is this one from the third stanza:

“ . . . . He is faithful, changing never . . . .”

These words point to one of God’s attributes, His immutability. In lieu of often disquieting, unnerving change, our God is changeless!

Finally, I cannot help but notice the tongue-twisting mix of verb tenses in the final stanza. The verbs are all the same, “to be.” The certitude of future indicative “shall be” is juxtaposed with the conditional mood—would, should, could (with “not now” mixed in). This stanza (which, sadly, is eliminated in some later hymnals) uniquely and gracefully articulates the “already, not yet” in which we live by causing us to think of the “where,” the “what” and all the “things” which God has promised to His children in eternity!

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

(Hebrews 13:8, NLT)

IDEAS FOR LISTENING

• Listen for the melody of the hymn-tune throughout.

• The music reflects four stanzas, all in a different key, all with a different stylistic approach.

• You might think of the first, second, third and fourth stanzas as you hear the music, then simply read that final stanza—out loud!

• Sing the hymn–words AND music–even if you’re by yourself!

Social Distancing from Death by Wil Triggs

Wil first gave this as a talk at last Wednesday's Men’s Bible Study, when the teaching topic was death and the intermediate state.
Lately when I wake up in the morning, I check my weather app to see if the weather is 50 with wind or 25 with snow. I want to know how to dress when I walk the dog and what I’m in for when I step outside.

The other day, I noticed that the Weather Channel added a feature to its app—the COVID-19 button down in the bottom right corner. I clicked on it and got a Coronavirus graph of how many people have been diagnosed and how many people have died in DuPage County every day for the last seven days. You can get it by county or by the whole state. You can choose infections, deaths or both.

To tell you the truth, it seems a little macabre.

The thing is, COVID-19 is not the only thing that’s killing people. All the other ways people die are continuing unabated—flu, cancer, heart disease, stroke. Wouldn’t it be nice if all the other things killing people just stopped? Is it supposed to make me feel better when I see social media posts that say more people die of the flu than COVID-19? That really is not a comfort. 

When it comes to death, each of us is going to be part of a statistic like that someday. Every single one of us. It strikes me in the midst of this pandemic, that in normal life, death is something most of the modern world would choose to forget. Maybe this is not a modern phenomenon—perhaps it has always been that way. As humans, we do our best to social distance from death. 

But not now. Now, as I check my app every morning, I can’t help it. I look to see how many people died of COVID-19 yesterday in DuPage County. I’m kind of fixated on it. And I don’t think I’m the only one. I mean, they’re talking about mass graves in New York. So 125 deaths as of this morning in DuPage County isn’t so bad. But death is death. 

And since death is on my mind more than usual, I end up thinking about some of my best friends in life who have died.

I think of Jim. The best man in my wedding—and I was the best man in his—he was a youth pastor, magician, puppeteer, trombonist, master of the pun and corny jokes, Christian formation professor at Trinity and Biola Universities. Jim just sort of got me in a way that is hard to describe. People appreciate me. They like me, but with Jim, it clicked. He just got me.

One day he was walking with his wife, and his leg went numb. He thought he was having a stroke. But it turned out to be inoperable brain cancer.

I did my best to walk with him through that, even though I was here in Illinois and he was out in California. I called him most nights, and we checked with each other on how things were. Then, when he couldn’t talk anymore, his wife would tell me what was going on. Toward the end, he said he saw Jesus in the room with him, praying. And then he went to heaven. For me, there’s no replacing Jim.

And there’s Peter. He was the missionary force that God used to put my heart in Russia and Ukraine, to serve the church there. Mostly, though, Peter was a man who wanted to do everything he could to help other people know and follow Jesus. I was part of a handful of people who worked here in Wheaton while he lived in Moscow. Every morning there would be 20-30 sheets of handwritten fax pages telling us the latest news of what was happening and what we needed to do that day on top of our regular work. Then email replaced fax, and 20-30 fax pages became 20-30 emails. We worked to impact legislation on religious freedom, connected church leaders with key partners or directed them away from cult leaders who looked like any other Christian from the West.

Then, out of nowhere, he and his wife were coming home early and heading to Mayo Clinic. His lymphoma was aggressive and fast. He fought hard. and we prayed hard. One of the last things he told me was about our plans to do summer camp ministry with kids in Russia. Go, he said, you need to go. And we did. Peter’s energy, humility and ministry partnership with his wife have shaped me and Lorraine in ways that I can’t even begin to express. For me, there’s no replacing Peter.

Death is the enemy. Even Jesus prayed for the cup to pass if there was any other way. Of course, when we die, we won’t be taking the sins of the world on ourselves as he did, so his cup is a lot different than the ones we will all drink.

Death is with us because of sin. We aren’t supposed to embrace it.

I miss these people more than I can say. My life felt better with them physically here. The grief of losing them doesn’t end. But Jesus called them home. I trust him. Our days are in his loving, nail-scarred hands.

I don’t want to think so much of those dear friends that l lose out on the amazing wonder of the people right in front of me. I mean, every person is a universe of creative wonder, a unique expression from the hand of God.

God’s stamp is on each of us, and it’s not some kind of die-cut cookie cutter stamp. Everyone is different. My table guys at Bible study—Mike and Michael and Val and Rick and Jeff and John—what a gift to walk with them and pray together and look together at the wonder of God’s Word. Seeing their faces in little boxes on my laptop, that’s better than nothing. It’s good. But walking together through life with them—that’s so great. For me, there’s no replacing those guys either.

We aren’t people of death. We Christians are all about life. The hymn isn’t "Jesus Died and So Shall I." It’s "Jesus Lives and So Shall I"—and that means that I will see Jim and Peter again. That means that someday all of us connecting on Zoom won’t have to use the internet and our devices to connect. We won’t have to drive to church and find places to park. That day is going to be richer and fuller and better than we can even imagine, and we’re going to get to see Jesus and one another and Jim and Peter all at the same time and cry out together,

Worthy are you, our Lord and God, 
    to receive glory and honor and power, 
for you created all things, 
    and  by your will they existed and were created.
(Revelation 4:11) 

There’s one more thing. Not everyone’s going to see Jesus and have all this. People we know, people we love, some will go to a different place. Let’s not forget that and do all we can to show them the fountain of God’s love that none of us deserve but we all get to drink from because of the wondrous flow from the Lamb of God.  

Come. Drink. Live.