11/23/2005
White Jade
NUMBER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY ONE
White Jade
Bob Pierce, the founder of World Vision International, was an extremely complex character. He was a good example of the fact that whatever our weaknesses or failings, God somehow can manage to get glory for Himself from his children. Today World Vision still bears eloquent world wide witness to the value of Bob’s exhortation: “Find out what God is doing in the world and become part of it.”
White Jade
Bob Pierce was born on October 8, 1914 in Fort Dodge Kansas. Thirteen years later on a street corner in Redondo Beach California he climbed up on a soapbox, preached a sermon to interested passers by, and discovered the thrill of announcing the good news to lost sinners. He was hooked on preaching for the rest of his life.
Whether in a church or a hall or in an open field, every meeting was a challenge. It was like the opening of a new play. The planning and praying would come to head. The tension would rise, the lights would dim, and the great drama of life and death, time and eternity, sin and grace would unfold in real time. The players kept changing. They were not acting out roles--they were actually living. Sinners were converted, the straying were brought back to the straight path and the power of God was felt like the rush of adrenaline in a crisis.
Whether as a college student, an itinerant evangelist, a youth pastor, a Youth For Christ director or a war correspondent, Bob never turned down an opportunity to stand before a group and announce the good news of the saving work of Jesus Christ. During his lifetime he preached to small groups and huge crowds, in great stadiums and mud huts--and he saw God bring many thousands into the kingdom.
Bob Pierce also loved adventure. He loved to be going to a new place. He often set out to answer some call with an empty wallet. He expected God to catch up with him somewhere along the way and deliver the funds needed to keep going.
His first trip to China was done in stages. Youth For Christ sent him. But the promised funds were late. He bought a ticket to Hawaii with his small savings. Instead of funds, a letter came to Hawaii. The money for his trip had been required to pay unexpected rally expenses. A friend finally sent him enough to get to Manila where, in time, enough more was provided to get him to Hong Kong.
God came thru again in Hong Kong and Bob finally arrived in Shanghai, broke and ready to preach. The first six days saw nine hundred saved.
Adventure not only meant travel to new places on faith, it meant taking on a challenge, or two or three sometimes. To Bob "It can't be done!" sounded like a personal mandate to go out and do it. It almost seemed that Bob was not happy unless he was biting off more than he could chew. Sometimes he got so far out on a limb that neither God nor Bob's longsuffering colleagues could save him. There were fiascos and failures. He took them seriously. He often learned from them. But they never kept him from rising to the next challenge, implicit in a declaration like "We can never make it work that way!"
In all of this, Bob's great concern was for the souls of men, women and children. It had never really occurred to him that their bodies were important too. In 1948 on his second trip to China this all changed.
He was doing what he loved best--flying to a new place to preach the gospel. After a month of meetings in Shanghai, Soochow, Hangchow and Nanking, he headed off across the mainland in an old C-47 to speak at the University at Amoy.
It was a hard time for missionaries in China. The Communists had begun their "War of Liberation," and the Nationalists under Chiang Kai-shek were being pushed back. Christian missionaries knew time was running out.
While Bob was on Amoy, Tena Hoelkboer, a lanky Dutch Reformed missionary from Michigan, heard about the way he taught university students. She wanted him to do the same for the younger school children she cared for--she had four hundred. They were on a small island just a fifteen-minute sampan ride away. He agreed to come.
For four days he went and announced the good news in the simplest way he could. When he had finished preaching, Bob appealed to the children to accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. He told them to go home and announce to their parents that they were going to be Christians.
The next morning he came back to the school. Miss Hoelkboer met him with a little girl in her arms. The child's back was bruised and cut as though from a whipping--her dress was stained with blood. Bob asked what had happened.
"White Jade did just what you said," the angry missionary told him. "She told her parents she had become a Christian and would worship the one true God. Now look what it cost her. Her father told her she had dishonored her ancestors, beat her and threw her out of the house."
With that she thrust the child into Bob's arms and added, "Now what are you going to do about it? I have six other children already sharing my rice bowl."
Pierce held the child awkwardly and watched the tears stream down the missionary's cheeks. He was shaken. The enormous social implications of the gospel began to unfold in his mind and Tena Hoelkboer waited for his answer.
"All I have is five dollars," he told her meekly.
"That's fine," she answered. I'll take it. Five dollars will buy cloth for a dress for the child, rice and a new slate for school. When you get home send me five dollars more every month. I will let her sleep in the kitchen with the others and I promise you I'll take care of her."
It was a beginning for Pierce, a first clear realization that the proclamation of the gospel alone was not enough in the presence of empty stomachs. It was his first real encounter with the question, "Who is my neighbor?" In this encounter his passion to preach was finally balanced with a prayer that his heart be broken by the things that break the heart of God. He understood—“my neighbor is who needs me" and in this small school on an inconsequential island in the Formosa Strait he became neighbor to the world.
Today World Vision offers material, social and spiritual support to over 100 million people in 96 countries. In a time when we are being thankful for many things, let us not forget to admit the stranger to our prayers and our lives.
+++++++
“Never walk away from someone who deserves help;
your hand is God’s hand for that person.
Don’t tell your neighbor, ‘Maybe some other time,’
or, ‘Try me tomorrow,’ when the money’s right there in your pocket.”
Proverbs 3.27-28
White Jade
Bob Pierce, the founder of World Vision International, was an extremely complex character. He was a good example of the fact that whatever our weaknesses or failings, God somehow can manage to get glory for Himself from his children. Today World Vision still bears eloquent world wide witness to the value of Bob’s exhortation: “Find out what God is doing in the world and become part of it.”
White Jade
Bob Pierce was born on October 8, 1914 in Fort Dodge Kansas. Thirteen years later on a street corner in Redondo Beach California he climbed up on a soapbox, preached a sermon to interested passers by, and discovered the thrill of announcing the good news to lost sinners. He was hooked on preaching for the rest of his life.
Whether in a church or a hall or in an open field, every meeting was a challenge. It was like the opening of a new play. The planning and praying would come to head. The tension would rise, the lights would dim, and the great drama of life and death, time and eternity, sin and grace would unfold in real time. The players kept changing. They were not acting out roles--they were actually living. Sinners were converted, the straying were brought back to the straight path and the power of God was felt like the rush of adrenaline in a crisis.
Whether as a college student, an itinerant evangelist, a youth pastor, a Youth For Christ director or a war correspondent, Bob never turned down an opportunity to stand before a group and announce the good news of the saving work of Jesus Christ. During his lifetime he preached to small groups and huge crowds, in great stadiums and mud huts--and he saw God bring many thousands into the kingdom.
Bob Pierce also loved adventure. He loved to be going to a new place. He often set out to answer some call with an empty wallet. He expected God to catch up with him somewhere along the way and deliver the funds needed to keep going.
His first trip to China was done in stages. Youth For Christ sent him. But the promised funds were late. He bought a ticket to Hawaii with his small savings. Instead of funds, a letter came to Hawaii. The money for his trip had been required to pay unexpected rally expenses. A friend finally sent him enough to get to Manila where, in time, enough more was provided to get him to Hong Kong.
God came thru again in Hong Kong and Bob finally arrived in Shanghai, broke and ready to preach. The first six days saw nine hundred saved.
Adventure not only meant travel to new places on faith, it meant taking on a challenge, or two or three sometimes. To Bob "It can't be done!" sounded like a personal mandate to go out and do it. It almost seemed that Bob was not happy unless he was biting off more than he could chew. Sometimes he got so far out on a limb that neither God nor Bob's longsuffering colleagues could save him. There were fiascos and failures. He took them seriously. He often learned from them. But they never kept him from rising to the next challenge, implicit in a declaration like "We can never make it work that way!"
In all of this, Bob's great concern was for the souls of men, women and children. It had never really occurred to him that their bodies were important too. In 1948 on his second trip to China this all changed.
He was doing what he loved best--flying to a new place to preach the gospel. After a month of meetings in Shanghai, Soochow, Hangchow and Nanking, he headed off across the mainland in an old C-47 to speak at the University at Amoy.
It was a hard time for missionaries in China. The Communists had begun their "War of Liberation," and the Nationalists under Chiang Kai-shek were being pushed back. Christian missionaries knew time was running out.
While Bob was on Amoy, Tena Hoelkboer, a lanky Dutch Reformed missionary from Michigan, heard about the way he taught university students. She wanted him to do the same for the younger school children she cared for--she had four hundred. They were on a small island just a fifteen-minute sampan ride away. He agreed to come.
For four days he went and announced the good news in the simplest way he could. When he had finished preaching, Bob appealed to the children to accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. He told them to go home and announce to their parents that they were going to be Christians.
The next morning he came back to the school. Miss Hoelkboer met him with a little girl in her arms. The child's back was bruised and cut as though from a whipping--her dress was stained with blood. Bob asked what had happened.
"White Jade did just what you said," the angry missionary told him. "She told her parents she had become a Christian and would worship the one true God. Now look what it cost her. Her father told her she had dishonored her ancestors, beat her and threw her out of the house."
With that she thrust the child into Bob's arms and added, "Now what are you going to do about it? I have six other children already sharing my rice bowl."
Pierce held the child awkwardly and watched the tears stream down the missionary's cheeks. He was shaken. The enormous social implications of the gospel began to unfold in his mind and Tena Hoelkboer waited for his answer.
"All I have is five dollars," he told her meekly.
"That's fine," she answered. I'll take it. Five dollars will buy cloth for a dress for the child, rice and a new slate for school. When you get home send me five dollars more every month. I will let her sleep in the kitchen with the others and I promise you I'll take care of her."
It was a beginning for Pierce, a first clear realization that the proclamation of the gospel alone was not enough in the presence of empty stomachs. It was his first real encounter with the question, "Who is my neighbor?" In this encounter his passion to preach was finally balanced with a prayer that his heart be broken by the things that break the heart of God. He understood—“my neighbor is who needs me" and in this small school on an inconsequential island in the Formosa Strait he became neighbor to the world.
Today World Vision offers material, social and spiritual support to over 100 million people in 96 countries. In a time when we are being thankful for many things, let us not forget to admit the stranger to our prayers and our lives.
+++++++
“Never walk away from someone who deserves help;
your hand is God’s hand for that person.
Don’t tell your neighbor, ‘Maybe some other time,’
or, ‘Try me tomorrow,’ when the money’s right there in your pocket.”
Proverbs 3.27-28
11/14/2005
For Cliff
ONE HUNDRED TWENTY
For Cliff
Listening to the weekly prayer requests for the people we worship with, I am reminded once again that growing old ain’t for sissies. 32 years ago this September a friend of ours went home to be with his Lord. He was a man who truly remembered his Creator in the days of his youth and when the evil days came, his Creator saw him through victoriously. I wrote this poem for his service in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
FOR CLIFF
9/8/73
Having lived
And loved
And beaten its way
Into the long numbers,
His heart faltered one day,
He found himself standing
At the edge of a cold river.
The River Jordan is chilly
And cold...
He stood
Two days or more
Looking across
To that fair land
Then turned
To those he loved
And more years,
Richer than before
For having stood
On that bleak shore.
It Chills the body...
Again one day,
His heart
Still living,
Still beating
Among the long numbers,
Heard the call
Too strong this time
To be denied--
He stepped into
The cold stream
and passed with joy
From life to Life.
But it warms the soul,
All my trials, Lord...over
9/73
018
+++++++
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth…and I saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, made ready as a bride for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne, saying, ‘Behold, the tabernacle of God is among men, and He will dwell among them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be among them, and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will be no longer any death; there will be no longer any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away.’ And He who sits on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’”
Revelation 21.1-5
For Cliff
Listening to the weekly prayer requests for the people we worship with, I am reminded once again that growing old ain’t for sissies. 32 years ago this September a friend of ours went home to be with his Lord. He was a man who truly remembered his Creator in the days of his youth and when the evil days came, his Creator saw him through victoriously. I wrote this poem for his service in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
FOR CLIFF
9/8/73
Having lived
And loved
And beaten its way
Into the long numbers,
His heart faltered one day,
He found himself standing
At the edge of a cold river.
The River Jordan is chilly
And cold...
He stood
Two days or more
Looking across
To that fair land
Then turned
To those he loved
And more years,
Richer than before
For having stood
On that bleak shore.
It Chills the body...
Again one day,
His heart
Still living,
Still beating
Among the long numbers,
Heard the call
Too strong this time
To be denied--
He stepped into
The cold stream
and passed with joy
From life to Life.
But it warms the soul,
All my trials, Lord...over
9/73
018
+++++++
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth…and I saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, made ready as a bride for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne, saying, ‘Behold, the tabernacle of God is among men, and He will dwell among them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be among them, and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will be no longer any death; there will be no longer any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away.’ And He who sits on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’”
Revelation 21.1-5
11/08/2005
Do It Again
ONE HUNDRED NINETEEN
Do It Again
Going out to collect the mail the other day I was reminded of the first lines of Joyce Kilmer’s poem, Trees:
“I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.”
The word poem comes from the Greek, poiema, which means creation, workmanship, handiwork. It is the same word the Apostle Paul used in his letter to the Church at Ephesus describe those saved by grace:
“For we are His workmanship (poiema), created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared before hand so that we would walk in them.” Ephesians 2.10
God is a Poet and we are His poems, and the making of poems by human poets is a reflection of the Creator in his creatures.
Kilmer’s poem covers the life cycle of a tree and it is a reminder that God is involved in that cycle. The leaves of the big Maple out front have already begun to die and fall to the ground. The tree will rest through the winter and then put on a whole new garment of green. This happens, I think, because God says, “that was nice, do it again.”
Thinking of “Do it again,” reminded me of something Robert Ferrar Capon, the Anglican Priest and gourmet cook, wrote in The Wedding Feast of The Lamb:
“In a general way we concede that God made the world out of joy: He didn’t need it; He just thought it was a good thing. But if you confine His activity in creation to the beginning only, you lose most of the joy in the subsequent shuffle of history. Sure, it was good back then, you say, but since then, we have been eating leftovers. How much better a world becomes when you see Him creating at all times and at every time; when you see that the preserving of the old in being is just as much creation as the bringing of the new out of nothing. The bloom of the yeast lies upon the grapeskins year after year because He likes it; C6H12O6=2C2H5OH+2CO2 (fermentation) is a dependable process because, every September, He says, that was nice; do it again.”
The yeast Capon speaks of is Saccharomyces ellipsoideus. When the grapes are crushed, it is this yeast that causes the sugar in the grape to ferment. And the result is wine “which cheers both God and men.”
For me, what ties this all together is the description of Christ in Paul’s letter to the Church at Colossae:
“For by Him all things were created, both in the heavens and on the earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rules or authorities—all things have been created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together (cohere, subsist).” Colossians 1.16-17
The oath that binds two atoms of hydrogen and one atom of oxygen together to give us water every day is nothing less than the Word of the Creator and Sustainer of all that is.
I will let Kilmer can finish this off with the last two lines of his poem:
“Poems are made by fools like me
But only God can make a tree.”
+++++++
“God saw all that He had made, and behold, it was very good.”
Genesis 1.31
“God, after He spoke long ago to the fathers in the prophets in many portions and in many ways, in these last days has spoken to us in His Son, whom He appointed heir of all things, through whom also He made the world. And He is the radiance of His glory and the exact representation of His nature, and upholds all things by the Word of His power.”
Hebrews 1.1-3
11/01/2005
The Curmudgeon's Vision
NUMBER ONE HUNDRED EIGHTEEN
The Curmudgeon’s Vision
The Ballad of Levi Slocum has a catchy tune--it has lodged in my mind and been going around and around. “Looping,” my brother would call it. It has pursued me, like the Hound of Heaven, “Down the nights and down the days,” through sweaty nights of diresome dreams. In due time a vision came, and the vision became a poem of sorts and I give it to you again with the caution, if you are weary of Oompah! stop right here and go on to something else.
In the year that King Elvis died
I saw Oompah! high and lifted up.
The heat of his amplifiers rose like smoke
And filled the temple.
The foundations shook at the thunder of his backbeat,
His rim-shots cracked as lightning in the smoke.
And Lo, a great white wall was there,
And upon the wall a song went
Round and round and round and
Round and round and round…
I saw gathered before the great white wall
A multitude that no man can number.
At the sound of the thunder
And the crack of the rimshot,
The people stood as one
With their hands upraised
Before the wall
And began to sing its song,
And their song went round and round and round and
Round and round and round,
Even unto the end of the age.
Falling on my face, I cried out,
“Woe is me for
I am a man of square lips
And I live in the midst of
A people of round lips
Whose song goes
Round and round and round and round…
And I can not sing their song.”
The Curmudgeon’s Vision
October, 2005
+++++++
“When you pray, do not use vain repetitions as the heathen do. For they think they will be heard for their many words.” Matthew 6.7
The Curmudgeon’s Vision
The Ballad of Levi Slocum has a catchy tune--it has lodged in my mind and been going around and around. “Looping,” my brother would call it. It has pursued me, like the Hound of Heaven, “Down the nights and down the days,” through sweaty nights of diresome dreams. In due time a vision came, and the vision became a poem of sorts and I give it to you again with the caution, if you are weary of Oompah! stop right here and go on to something else.
In the year that King Elvis died
I saw Oompah! high and lifted up.
The heat of his amplifiers rose like smoke
And filled the temple.
The foundations shook at the thunder of his backbeat,
His rim-shots cracked as lightning in the smoke.
And Lo, a great white wall was there,
And upon the wall a song went
Round and round and round and
Round and round and round…
I saw gathered before the great white wall
A multitude that no man can number.
At the sound of the thunder
And the crack of the rimshot,
The people stood as one
With their hands upraised
Before the wall
And began to sing its song,
And their song went round and round and round and
Round and round and round,
Even unto the end of the age.
Falling on my face, I cried out,
“Woe is me for
I am a man of square lips
And I live in the midst of
A people of round lips
Whose song goes
Round and round and round and round…
And I can not sing their song.”
The Curmudgeon’s Vision
October, 2005
+++++++
“When you pray, do not use vain repetitions as the heathen do. For they think they will be heard for their many words.” Matthew 6.7
