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Posts Tagged ‘Fall’

Some lessons in life can only be learned by personal experience. Others can tell you about them, teach you them, help you study to be prepared for them and even explain them.  However, the only way for a person to learn to ride a bike is to one day get on it and try to ride it.  The only way a person is going to learn to drive a car is actually get behind the wheel of one and take it around town.  Nothing prepares one for these lessons but personal experience.

Sometimes it is that way with our spiritual journeys too. There are some things about our relationship with the Creator that can only be learned by personal engagement and interaction.  We will never learn them vicariously through someone else’s experiences.  No Bible study or theological lesson can fully prepare us or help us appreciate certain aspects of the journey unless we experience them for ourselves.

One of the benefits of certain renewal movements within the Church has been an emphasis upon personal experience. While it should never trump Scriptural revelation, there is something certainly powerful about personal revelation into the nature and character of God.  After all, someone can go on all they want about the power and beauty of standing on a mountain peak.  But personally standing there and experiencing the exhilaration is something quite different all together.

Some of us have to trust the pictures, stories, and experiences shared by others. On the other hand, some of us get to experience it for ourselves.  We become a part of sharing the story.

I grew up with a Christian religious background that cherished personal experiences with God. It was one thing to have personal knowledge of God.  Our sect took, and continues to take in most circles, great pride in personal experiences.  So, it has been no surprise to me when God in certain seasons of my life has “showed up” in ways that surprised and delighted me.

In my early spiritual formation, I attended a Bible College in Kirkland, Washington, now called Northwest University, after High School. There I shaped and honed spiritual disciplines that still guide me today.  Aside from the general education courses and Bible or theology courses, the opportunity to discover my own spiritual stride for my journey greatly informed my future.

The Winter quarter of my freshman year, I learned from the College’s financial aide office that I would not be allowed to return for the Spring quarter because of my outstanding bills. I owed more than $1,200.  I would need to pay that balance before I could continue to attend.

At the time, I was working at an Exxon gas station in Totem Lake, Washington. The owners were two brothers who were really nice.  They were not Christians but nevertheless hired guys from the Bible College because we all were honest and had a good work ethic.  I appreciated the job, but it just was not enough to keep ahead of my school bills.  I was going to have to inform them that I would have to quit my job as well as school and return home to where my parents lived near Sea-Tac.

The school had given me notice at mid-quarter, so I figured I had a couple of weeks ‘to see what would happen.’ I am not sure what I was expecting would happen, but I have always tried to keep an optimistic outlook.  So, I continued classes determined that I would at least finish that quarter.  If worse came to worse, then I would find work from home and possibly come back for the Fall quarter.

In the mean time, I had started the practice of scheduling one of my class-time slots on my schedule for a time of prayer and reflection in the Men’s Dorm Prayer Chapel. I found it helped me keep a regular schedule for prayer.  I also found the quiet time in the Chapel refreshing.  So, during this time, I added my dilemma about school, paying my school bill and what to do about my job to my list of prayer needs.

As the quarter wound down, my prayer times grew a little more desperate. I may have been the uncertainty of my future, but I found myself praying more intense and intentional prayers.  After all, I needed direction.  I needed answers.  I needed help!

Fall Colors in the Mountains, Roslyn, Washington, September 2010

Fall Colors in the Mountains, Roslyn, Washington, September 2010 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

It finally came to the point where I needed to do the right thing by my employers and give them my “two weeks notice.” This is a kindness of employees to employers that allows them time to find another employee to replace them and so not disrupt the work place.  I planned on giving notice on a Friday.  At the beginning of the week, on a Monday morning in the Men’s Dormitory Prayer Chapel, I offered God another chance to throw out a rope and rescue me.  Otherwise, I was determined to see it as a closed door.  I was even strongly considering not coming back to college.  I was second guessing everything.

I was perhaps exhausted from struggling with the whole situation in my mind. The stress of the unknown and uncertain weighed heavily down upon me like a 110 lb. sack of sand.  It was in this state that I dumped everything upon the prayer bench in the prayer chapel.  I had no answers, no direction, and seemingly no help.

After expending all my words and thoughts, I fell silent. The room echoed my silence back to me.  My head rested on the prayer bench as I sat upon the floor with my eyes closed tight.

There was nothing. Nothing came to mind.  No brilliant idea.  No flash of inspiration.

Suddenly, I heard a voice speak audibly, “You’ll be here next quarter.”

I opened my eyes started and looked around because I thought that I was alone.  There was no one in the room with me.  Yet, the voice was clear and unmistakable.  I blinked in the dimly lit room.

The words bounced around in my head:You’ll be here next quarter.”  With those words, an unexplained settledness sent upon me.  A certainty about my future filled my heart.  Someway, somehow, I knew without a shadow of any doubt that I would most definitely be at school next quarter.  I took the words only I heard and the feeling only I felt as a gift from God.

I got up and went to get ready for my next class. I had to go to my room to gather a couple of books.  When I entered my room, my roommate was there.  Do I tell him what I just experienced?

As if on cue he asked, “Hey, have you figured out what you’re going to do for next quarter?”

Shaken, I replied, “I’m not sure yet.  Why?”

He looked a little anxious, “Well, I may have another roommate lined up.  That’s all.  If you’re not going to be here that is.”

With as determined a look as I could give him I said emphatically, “I will be here next quarter.  You can count on it.”

You are?” he looked surprised.  “How do you know?”

God told me,” I said and turned and left the room.  I didn’t want to chance seeing him laugh at me.  We were at a Bible College to learn about God, after all, not actually believe God.

As the week continued, I held on to that experience in the Men’s Dorm Chapel. It became an anchor.  However, the question of what to do with my job at the Exxon station came to a conclusion that Friday.  Friday came and I still had no way to pay for school.  The settled assurance that I was still going to be in school next quarter had not left me.  I came to my own conclusion that however God provided for me to be there it was not going to be through the brothers who owned the Exxon gas station.

As soon as I got to the station that Friday afternoon, I called one of the brothers aside and explained my problem. I told him that I really appreciated the job and really like working there.  However, since I was not going to be able to continue at school, I was going to have to move back home with my parents.  Therefore, I would have to quit my job.  He still had two weeks before finals and I would have to move out.

Working with college students, I am certain that both of those brothers had heard the same story over and over before. He thanked me for letting him know.  He said he liked my work and was going to miss me.

He shook my hand and said, “I’ll let my brother know.  If you know anyone who wants a job, let them know to come and talk to us.”  And with that, we went our separate ways doing our own jobs at the station.

Later that day, he and his brother announced that they were going to catch dinner and would be back. They had a back-log of cars to work on and wanted to use part of the evening to catch up.  I busied myself with pumping gas for customers and repairing tires.  Soon they returned.

As I was walking through one of the bays, the brother I approached earlier in the day came up to me and handed out an envelope.

My brother and I were talking over dinner and decided we wanted to help you pay for college.  We’ve never done this,” he explained.  “But he and I just felt we needed to do this for you.”

I was dumbfounded.  “You guys don’t have to do that.  If I can’t pay back college, how am I going to pay you guys back?”

You don’t worry about that,” he said.  “Whatever you are able to pay, you pay back.  We’ll take care of the rest.”

I was humbled by their generosity.  “Thank you so much,” I offered.

Well,” he muttered half to himself as much as to me, “we do expect you to stick around and work with us.  And don’t tell the other guys.  We don’t want anyone to start thinking that we are a charity or college loan fund.”  He smiled and winked at me.

I understand,” I said.  “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.  Thanks.

When I got back to my dormitory room late that night, I took the envelope out and opened it. The check that was written out to me was enough to settle my past school bill as well as get me well on the way paying for the next quarter’s tuition and books.  It dawned upon me that I never told them how much I owed on my bill.

I sat on the side of my bed amazed that God would not only personally give me reassurance about where my future lie, but that he would also use to non-Christian employers to help meet the need. It all defies explanation.  Coincidence?  Perhaps.  But most certainly divinely ordered ones.  I still think of those two brothers often and pray for them.

Now, I could have studied many Scriptures on God’s provision; even memorized many of them. I could also have read many personal experiences of others about how God provided for them.  None of that could or would have the impact upon my life in the same way as God surprising me by speaking to me in a chapel, reassuring me in my heart and then working out the details in the most surprising way.  It has helped to keep my eyes open to other ways God wants to surprise me.

©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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Extended backpack trips can pose a health risk. But not for the reasons you may think.  For example, more people suffer episodes of diarrhea while camping from soap or improperly prepared food than from dirty dishes.  That’s right.  Poorly rinsed dishes that do not get off all of the soap cause more sickness than dirty dishes.

One is better off just washing with plain water – cold or hot – than trying to use soap. Plus, it is more environmentally friendly.  Need extra scrubbing power?  Find some sand.  Use a knife edge to scrape.  Whatever you do, skip the soap unless you can rinse sufficiently with hot water because only hot water removes the soap.

As to poorly prepared food, well, you’re on your own there. My problem is usually over cooked food.  Camp cooking for my part can resemble more of some kind of pagan burnt offering sacrifice to the gods than actual cooking.  This is one reason I have embraced the easy to prepare freeze-dried meals most backpackers now use.  The hardest part of preparing these meals is lighting the camp stove to boil water.

Aside from those two things, a backpacker is relatively safe when it comes to hygienic issues. One discovers that after traversing miles of trail up the sides of mountains that even a hunk of cheese or summer sausage with his buddy’s fingerprints on it are easily overlooked.  A dropped piece of fruit or granola bar on the ground merely bears the hassle of having to blow it off before popping it the mouth.  Floaties in that drink?  Unless they are squirming, just chalk it up to more fiber or protein in the diet.  The majority of the world includes plants and insects anyway.  So, go global!

The toughest part may be keeping personal hygiene issues at bay. Dirt and smell are just a part of the experience I figure.  This is particularly true when the trail has been muddy.  Aside from the sweat the workout produces, the dirt and mud can get everywhere.  What does one do?

Of course, there is always the nearby stream or lake. A simple washing and rinsing of face, hand and feet (preferably in that order) is usually sufficient.  It can even be invigorating in alpine lake and streams where the water is only a short distance from the glacier that produced it.

Then, there are backpackers like my buddy, Dan Tourangeau. They are sophisticated enough to carry prettily packaged personal wipes.  For those unfamiliar with these, they were first produced as baby wipes.  These handy towelettes could be used in a moments notice when changing a diaper or cleaning up after a meal.

One day, someone must have realized that they were good for adults too. They are now everywhere.  People carry them in purses, school backpacks, office drawers and in cars.  They substitute for the lack of a bathroom’s wash basin.  The varieties are endless: aloe, anti-bacterial, with scents, without scents, exfoliating.

Now it appears to have entered the world of backpacking. My buddy, Dan, had a few packages.  I admit they were pretty convenient to use before meals or after a trip into the woods “to talk to a man about a horse.”   They must now be a very important commodity to have since Dan has his pack weighed to the ounces.  He does not want to have to carry more than he has to up a mountain.  Who can blame him?  So, for him to pack those in and then pack those out, they must be a necessity.

The last night of our five day/four night trip, Dan decided to practice a little backwoods hygiene with his fancy personal wipes. I was tucked in my sleeping bag in my own tent and starting to fall to sleep when I was dragged from dreamland to reality.

GACK!”  The sound coming from Dan’s tent sounded like he was asphyxiating.

Are you alright,” I asked.  I was truly concerned for his safety as equally as I was about having to pack him out if something should happen to him.

Yeah,” he reassured me.  “I’m just trying to clean my feet with these personal wipes but I can hardly stand the smell of my own feet!”  After a few moments, there was another loud, “GAAAAA!

I chuckled.  “Why are you cleaning your feet now?  We’re packing out in the morning.”

He explained, “I was tired of my dirty feet and thought I would clean them.  But now I’m wondering if that was such a good idea.  Good grief I’m stinky!

Why are you doing that in your tent,” I asked.  “Being in a confined space only makes it worse.”

I didn’t think of that,” said Dan.  Another few moments passed and then, “AACK!  I think I’m going to throw-up!  I don’t think I’ve ever smelled so bad!

I laughed out loud.  “Well, good luck with that.  I’m sure you’ll feel better once you’re done.”

I don’t know if I will survive it.  I mean, this is really bad!

Well,” I offered, “better thee than me.”  And with that I rolled over and settled back into my sleeping bag.  I was exhausted from that days hike up to Robin Lake and back.  It seems, however, that sleep would have to wait a little longer.  After just a couple minutes of the sounds of night birds and crickets…

GAAA!!” shouted Dan.

Now what?” I asked.

I know that this is TMI (Too Much Information), but I decided to clean my privates because I smelled so bad.  I think the wipes only made the smell worse!

You’re right,” I offered.  “That is TMI.  Unbelievable.”

I think I’m going to pass out it’s so bad!” Dan protested.

Do you have your tent flap open?” I inquired.

No!  That’s a good idea.”  Next, I heard the zipper of Dan’s tent flap.  “Whew!  That’s a little better.”  A few moments passed before I heard in the dark, “Man!  I don’t know why I stink so bad.  I don’t usually ever smell this bad.”

According to who?” I quipped.

I mean it.  The smell is nauseating,” said Dan.  “It got worse after washing my butt!

Good grief!” I exclaimed.  “Some things should not be disturbed on an extended backpack trip until one gets to a shower.  Unbelievable!

I think you’re right,” Dan laughed.

I’m going to give you the Bible name, Lazarus, so that every time I see you I can say, ‘Surely, Lord, he stinketh!‘” I joked.

Should I go around shouting, ‘Unclean!  Unclean!’?” Dan joked back.

We both laughed out loud.  You have to love camp humor.

Hey,” a thought suddenly came to me.  “Make sure you put those wipes outside the tent.  If they’re that bad they’ll scare off any wild life that comes around in the middle of the night.”

Good idea,” said Dan.  After a few moments of silence, I heard, “Where’s my clean socks?  I know that I had another pair somewhere.  I can’t find them.”

Maybe you’ll find them better in the morning when you have better light,” I offered.

Yeah.  Maybe.  Man, this is baaaaaad!” Dan commented.

Well, I’m certainly glad you have your own tent.”

Fall Colors in Alpine Meadow, Granite Mountain, September 2010

Fall Colors in Alpine Meadow, Granite Mountain, September 2010 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

Soon, Dan quieted down and I drifted off to sleep.  I slept hard and woke the next morning to the sun peaking through the trees and making sun blotches on my tent.  It looked like it was going to be another fine day.  We had misty, rainy weather packing in, so it will be nice having a sunny day to make our way out and back to the car.

I unzipped the flap to my tent and reached for my boots sitting just outside it under the rain-fly vestibule. I slipped my boots on without tying them, unzipped the rain fly and pushed myself up and out of the tent’s door.  My stiff legs took a moment to adjust to my weight.  I looked around.  Dan wasn’t up yet.

I went and watered a tree and then climbed atop a rock that overlooked the lake and looked toward the morning sunrise. Yep.  It was going to be a beautiful day.  There was a part of me that was wishing we had a few more days.  I sighed and headed down my rocky perch back to our campsite.

As I approached our tents, I noticed the dozen or so towelettes scattered on the ground in front of Dan’s tent. I remembered with a smile the events of the evening before.  Suddenly, there was movement in the tent, the zipper to the tent door began to move around by an unseen hand, and Dan poked his head out.

Good morning!”  I greeted him.  “It’s going to be a beautiful day to hike out.”

Morning,” Dan mumbled.  He gingerly raised himself up out of his tent, eyeing the sanitary wipes on the ground and careful not to disturb them.

I suppose those will have to be packed out,” he mused.

Yeah,” I answered.

You don’t think you’d mind doing me a favor,” he grinned and looked at me.

Oh, no,” I protested.  “Those are bio-hazards.  You’re responsible for packing out your own garbage.  I’d find a zip-lock bag and put them in there.”

Good idea.”

We made our last breakfasts.  Ate them in our leisure and then packed up camp.  Dan found an old freeze-dried meal pouch and put the wipes in there and sealed it good.

I was dirty, sweaty and looking forward to a shower and shave when I got home. I’m sure I had my own unique scent.  But when one has been out in nature longer than a couple of days, I figure it is better to embrace it than fight it.  After all, humankind has lived and survived in the wilderness longer than it has in modern civilization with all of its cleanliness rules.  Civilization just teaches us to hide the dirt.

Dan appeared and smelled cleaner perhaps, but he was still carrying it; albeit in a zippered pouch buried in his backpack. Me?  I was proudly wearing my dirt until I re-entered civilization where my wife and children would have nothing to do with me until I cleaned up.  I’m thinking my way is much safer.

©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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One of the Many Lakes of Indian Heaven Wilderness, Fall 2003

One of the Many Lakes of Indian Heaven Wilderness, Fall 2003 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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The Easter celebration will soon be upon us.  I prefer to call it Resurrection Sunday or Resurrection Celebration.  Whatever you prefer to call it, it is a time to commemorate Passover.  This is the most important holiday for Christians and religious Jews.  What God instituted in these two events changed the course of history forever.

Passover remembers Israel’s physical redemption from slavery in Egypt.  The Passover meal is full of wonderful symbolism.  The house is purged of all leaven.  Leaven, which is natural born yeast, is a symbol of sin.  It is everywhere.  Therefore, a careful and thorough cleaning of the house takes place.  Then, special candles and dinnerware used only for Passover is set on a table.

Ceremonial food is used as sensory aids to tell the story of God delivering Israel from bondage and slavery in Egypt.  Egypt symbolizes humankind’s bondage and slavery to Satan’s work and sin.  Each prayer and song during the Passover celebration has a special message in the story.  It is a holy night.

God commanded that three main Passover symbols be used in the ceremony.  He called for a sacrificial lamb, bitter herbs, and unleavened bread.  Each has its own unique significance in retelling the story of God’s salvation of Israel from slavery.

Since there is no Temple to offer the sacrificial lamb, chicken is now used.  Because of this substitution, the Passover ceremony presently centers around the unleavened bread, called matzo.  It is usually displayed in three pieces in an ornate bag on the Passover table.

The middle matzo is taken out of the bag, broken in two, and then one of the broken pieces is put back in the bag and hidden, or buried, under a cushion.  It is brought out from being buried or hidden and distributed at the end of the meal.  Often this is accompanied by any children present looking for the hidden matzo piece; a practice that may have later led to the “Easter Egg Hunt.”

The matzo is a cracker-like wafer is about seven inches square and is made without yeast or salt.  It is also striped and perforated with tiny holes.

Why such a bland bread at such an important meal?  It is to remember when Israel fled Egypt so fast that they did not have time to bake regular bread.  Simple water and flour was used for bread in the dramatic escape from Egypt.  The matzo, then, serves as a powerful reminder of God’s delivering power to those in the Jewish faith.

Indian Heaven Wilderness Trail, Fall 2001

Indian Heaven Wilderness Trail, Fall 2001 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

The importance of the Passover matzo bread is even more meaningful to Christians.  At the Passover meal, Jesus the Messiah took the matzo, broke it, and then proclaimed, “This is my body which is broken for you.”  It is a powerful reminder to Christians of the fulfillment of the prophet Isaiah’s foretelling of the coming Suffering Servant and Messiah.

The Passover bread is untainted by leaven, the biblical picture of sin.  The Messiah, too, had no sin in his life.  Matzo is also striped and pierced; a picture of the suffering Messiah who was striped with Roman lashes and pierced in his hands and feet by nails, and in his side by a spear.

During a similar Passover celebration, just like the one coming up soon, Jesus one time proclaimed, “I am the bread of life; the one that comes to me will never hunger” (John 6:35).  For the Christian, Jesus fulfills all the meaning of the Passover bread.  God through his son Jesus the Messiah, delivers us from bondage to sin.

For the Christian, the three wafers symbolize the three persons of the Triune Godhead – the Trinity.  Jesus, the middle person, was taken from his special place in heaven, revealed to us, broken for our deliverance, buried, raised to new life, and was taken up to heaven, returning to his rightful place, and he will one day return and reveal himself again to set up his kingdom.

Bread is the universal food of the world.  Jesus the Messiah is the bread, spiritual food, we need to have spiritual life.  He said, “It is my Father who gives you the true bread out of heaven.  For the bread of God is the one who comes down out of heaven and gives life to the world” (John 6:33).

This Passover and Resurrection Celebration let us break bread together.  Take time to purge your house and life through repentance and the forgiveness offered through the sacrifice of the Suffering Messiah and Servant of God, Jesus.  Remember the former life you once lived.  Give thanks to God for his deliverance through his son, Jesus.  And, with all your heart, seek the One who was dead but is now alive and sitting at the right hand of the Father in Heaven.

©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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On Mission

Every organization battles keeping its mission – raison d’etre = reason for being – the central focus of its business.  It is what drives corporate behavior and, in the end, makes it profitable.  We have seen the result of some American companies who have lost sight of their original corporate mission.

They got sidetracked into other endeavors and pursuits. Pretty soon, what they once were known for in the market place got lost to a competitor.  Not only did they lose market share, but they lost profitability.  You could name any of the U.S. automakers, banks, insurance companies, or even smaller ventures in the past 5 years or so and see the economic results from such missional blindness.

I do not believe it is any different for the Church.  It is an ongoing and constant battle to remind everyone the raison d’etre.  Why does the Church exist?  What is the Church here to accomplish?

These are important questions and will define the activities of any church fellowship. Most importantly, it will not be defined by what its creeds say.  Neither will it be identified by any “mission statement” or “vision statement”.  These are all good tools and necessary.  Instead, the behavior of its followers will dictate what it really believes, values, and holds to be its mission.

There is the often told story of the life saving stations along the Easter seaboard of the U.S. They were originally built and organized to save people and sailors involved in shipwrecks off the coast.  During the lull in activities, however, they became popular meeting places for social activities.

Pretty soon, the focus on saving lives in emergency situations gave way to the social activities. So much so, that no one bothered any longer to be on the look out for shipwrecks.  When one did occur, members were put out by how the emergency upset their routine and messed up their finely decorated life saving station.  Pretty soon, other life saving stations had to be built to replace those who no longer functioned in that capacity but were there only for decoration and celebration.

This can be a parable about the Church too.  It is a challenge to keep the focus upon the saving of lives in emergencies.  It is a terrible disruption to our comfort and convenience.  It costs money, time, and energy to man an effective life saving station.  Is it worth the effort?  Those who are saved think so!

The same could be said of the Church in spiritual terms. Yet, how many of our churches end up existing to serve only the benefit, comfort, and convenience of its members?  How many have lost sight of its real raison d’tre?

Deep Lake and Mount Adams, Indian Heaven Wilderness, Fall 2001

Deep Lake and Mount Adams, Indian Heaven Wilderness, Fall 2001 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

I grew up in the Assemblies of God denomination.  When it was formed as a Pentecostal Church in Hot Springs, Arkansas, in 1914, its stated reason for forming and existing was “to be the greatest evangelistic movement the world has ever seen.”  Those gathered at that early meeting believed that the Pentecostal blessing being poured out upon its generation was to serve only one purpose: to proclaim the Gospel to every nation.

As an organization, its devotion was originally given only to world missions and evangelization. It was first and foremost a missionary sending agency.  And, so was launched one of the greatest missionary endeavors of the 20th century.  Nearly a hundred years later, that same denomination now finds itself struggling to recapture its original vision and mission or raison d’etre.

There are many Assembly of God churches that do not give anything toward world missions.  Friends of mine who answered a call to world missions and entered the Assemblies of God World Missions agency find it hard pressed to raise the funds they need for their budgets within 18 months so they can get to their field of service.  They are finding that many Assembly of God churches do not even have missionaries to their churches any more.  One friend of mine was informed by a former district official now pastoring that they do not have missionaries come to their church!  The denomination also now finds itself riding a wave of retiring missionaries with no new recruits in the wings.

The ministries of every local Assembly of God church, along with its District, used to be centered around fulfilling its mission to evangelize the world.

  • Women’s Ministry was called the “Women’s Missionary Council” and was an agency to engage women in the local church to sponsor and support missionaries.
  • Men’s Ministry had what was called “Minute Man” and M.A.P.S. (Mobilization And Placement Services) that placed resources and skilled laborers where they were needed all across the world.
  • The Youth Ministries were called “Christ’s Ambassadors” because they were considered to be the calling and sending place for young people into ministry and in particular to the missionary fields of service.
  • Children’s Ministries focused upon helping to raise funds for child evangelism and Sunday School for missionaries through its “Boys and Girls Missions Crusade.”  Every child had a “Buddy Barrel” that represented the barrels that missionaries would put their belongings into to be shipped overseas.

It is not that the names are or were important.  What was important was the raison d’etre – the centralized and focused mission of the whole church and denomination.  It used to be that hardly a month would go by without having a visiting missionary in a local Assembly of God church.  Now, months can go by.  And, if a missionary gets into a church service, they are given a “Missions Window” to highlight what they do.  This is hardly enough time to set a vision for world missions let alone give a call to people to answer the call to missions should the Lord want to work that way in their lives.

It is no wonder that the Assemblies of God is struggling to build its ranks of young people called to missions. There is hardly ever opportunity for them to hear a missionary, listens to God’s heart for his mission to every people group, and answer the call to missions.  Or, should I say, there is hardly a time for God to speak, show and reveal what he is doing and is wanting to do in his world to them?

This is only my experience in one denomination.  I am sure that the story could be repeated over and over again across denominations and churches.  I have heard the same stories among leaders of once dynamic mission agency churches – Salvation Army, United Methodist, Presbyterian, and Baptist.  A spiritual lethargy and blindness almost seems to have invaded the Church.

Thankfully, there are some bright spots and active church bodies within the Assemblies of God and across the whole Body of Christ. Today, more cross-cultural missionaries are sent from non-Western churches than the U.S. and Europe churches combined.  The emerging and growing churches in the rest of the world are now missionary sending churches!  Upon the rising tide of missionary activity in the rest of the world, what part will the American and European churches play?

It will probably take another spiritual renewal and revival to bring the whole Western church back to being on mission for the Kingdom of God.  Rediscovering its raison d’etre will unite and activate its members toward something larger than social gatherings for like-minded individuals.  It will cause it to look toward the troubled seas of humanity again and to stand at the ready to seek and save those who are lost in the dark and turbulent waves of our time.  Truly, the hour is not too late.  The work is not yet done.  There is time to get back on mission.  Let’s  pray that we regain our sight to see the world as God sees it.  It’s not too late to get back on mission.

©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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Many people do not know that I am terribly afraid of public speaking.  What a horrible handicap to have for someone called to preach and teach God’s Word, huh?  In most public situations, I am perfectly fine sitting quietly and letting other people do the talking.  I confess that I am a closet wallflower.  It has occurred to me on more than one occasion (usually, right before I get up to deliver a homily) that our Heavenly Father must have a great sense of humor.

It is a long and tortuous story of how a young man, who used to take a ‘zero’ on any oral assignments in school rather than get up in front of people and talk, ended up becoming a preacher, of all things.  It had to be in answer to someone’s prayer or to God’s sense of humor.  This back-story will have to be for another time.  There is a related fear that I wish to confess to you.  It is a fear of not being able to communicate at all.

One of the first times I delivered a sermon as a young associate pastor in Bremerton, Washington, time stopped.  I had just read the Scriptural text and prayed for God’s blessing upon the message.  Then, as if in a transcendent moment of holy revelation when time is suspended, I looked out upon the congregation with new eyes.

What do you have to say to these people?” is the question that ran through my soul.  A cold sweat came over me as I looked out upon the lives seated before me  There, waiting in hopefulness for God’s Word spoken to their hour of need, were people of every walk of life.  What was I going to possibly say to the elderly couple who had been years in church three times longer than I had years in life that they had not already heard?  What did I have to say to the recent divorcee from a shattered marriage and home?  What words of hope had I for the couple grieving the loss of a child from SID’s?  Or, to the widower who had just lost his wife of 53 years?  Young or old, what did I have to say that could in any way benefit them?  What was I doing behind a pulpit?  What was I thinking!?

I remember the petrifying fear while standing there as if it were yesterday.  It seemed an eternity to me, though I am sure that to the congregation it seemed only a moment or two, as if I were collecting my thoughts.  Nevertheless, a reassuring voice and presence accompanied my spirit as God’s Spirit reminded me that it was not my word or my wisdom that I needed to proclaim.  I was simply the vessel through whom God’s Word was proclaimed and preached.

I remember that occasion often and use it to spur me on to diligently study God’s Word, pray for leading and direction in what to teach or preach, and prepare to meaningfully communicate it.  My fear is not that I will not have something to say, but that I will not be able to communicate it in an effective way.  I want to be able to communicate clearly God’s message to a hungry and thirsty world.  May it always be God’s Word endowed with God’s Wisdom that fulfills the dream to know Jesus and make him known.

Mount Adams, Washington State, October 2001

Mount Adams, Washington State, October 2001 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

The challenge for the church today and every believer in particular is to communicate the greatest message to the people in greatest need.  The danger is not communicating it at all or communicating it in such a way as to make it senseless and meaningless.  We have a Great Commission (Matt. 28:18 – 20) given to us by our Lord and Master to communicate his Good News message to all parts of His world.  What do we have to say to out city, town, or neighbors?  Just as important is answering the question: what is the most effective way to communicate the most important message ever?

My fear is not communicating effectively to our culture and generation.  One individual described it like being a group of Swahili immigrants from Africa who start a church here, keep their Swahili language, cultural forms and preferences, and way of doing church, but then wonder why people from the surrounding community are not coming to their church!  Why would we expect our neighbors and friends to make the leap over language and culture to hear a message in Swahili?  We wouldn’t.  So, are we simply making strange sounds to a people who cannot understand what we are saying?

Every believer is the Lord’s ambassador to spiritually lost people.  Part of this mission is to understand the times, changing needs, languages, and cultural forms of the community we are called to serve.  In simpler terms, every follower of Christ is a commissioned missionary to a foreign culture – to that of the world of a people far from God.  The way people far from God talk, the way they behave, the things they value, the things they spend their time doing, their social structures and networks, the things in which they find joy and happiness,  and how they raise their family, among many other things, may be radically different from our experiences.  Yet, it is to these people we are called to share God’s love and the message of his Kingdom.  At the end of our service among them may it be said of us that we did not just have a message but that we communicated that message effectively.

©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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After the Wheat Harvest, The Palouse, Washington State, Fall 2009

After the Wheat Harvest, The Palouse, Washington State, Fall 2009 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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