Temple Visit

This past weekend a prayer was answered when two guys from American came to live with me for two months. Some of you may not know that I am extrovert and living alone is not one of my favorite things to do. This town also shuts down about 8 at night and that leaves me alone and crying most nights. These two guys have been great though and have been provided by God. While mostly everything about having new guys here is great, there is one thing that is not exactly great. Every time fresh blood shows up on the field, the local tourist spots must be hit. The first time I went to most of these places it was great. These things were so different and were so cool to see, but the more you go the less interesting it becomes. One of the spots we typically hit is the local Hindu Temple. This temple is something similar to what you might see in a movie. There is a group of small temples that are set against the background of a cliff covered in concrete. There are two bridges that cross a small river. The river contains more plastic bags and bottles than water most of the time. The riverbank opposite the small temples is stairs of concrete that lead up to platforms that are used for the burning of bodies. The backdrop for these platforms are large temples were worship is done everyday. There are also Hindu “holy men” dressed in bright orange, with dread locks and brightly painted faces. The thing that sets the temple off is the large population of monkeys that every minute seem to be plotting the takeover of mankind.

This visit started out like any other. I tried to sneak them in the back way so we could avoid the 500 Rupee charge, but we were caught. I argued/talked with the security guard for a few minutes, but was only able to get myself in free and the new guys had to pay. This was not uncommon, so we headed into the temple and I began to show them around. We started on top of the cliff and after the guys took some pictures we headed down to watch the funerals. This always makes me uneasy and the first time for everyone becomes a soul-searching event. The concrete platforms are built up on top with a bed of logs and are placed on the platform long in advance of the funerals, so you get an idea of what will be happening in the next few minutes. This time there was one body already burning, two full of full size beds of logs and one that had a small bed of logs. The first body came out covered in a sheet followed by the family. The men of the family took the body and placed it on the bed and some priest began to stuff the space in the logs with hay. A fire was started and the body began to burn. The body takes a pretty good while to burn and about half way thru there is always a loud pop that is said to be the bursting of the skull.

While this is always a heart-breaking thing to watch, I was still trying to figure out the half bed of logs. I was watching the guys also and you could see the somberness taking over their faces. I had started telling them about what was happening, but after about ten minutes silence had taken over. We simply watched. No questions were asked, but all our hearts were broken as the realization of another soul burning in hell. Watching the family celebrate this death is not an easy task to do without crying. This is not an easy thing to watch, but I was still wondering about the small stack of logs. I was thinking that they had probably ran out of logs and went to get more. There would be no more logs added to this pile.

The next scene was a heart tearing, memory-searing event. A family began to walk toward the platform and what looked like sheets being carried to the river for a washing were leading the way. I wished with all my soul that it had been exactly that. The men in the family then placed the small child on top of the bed of wood. The hay was stuffed in, the fire was lit and the small body began to burn. My emotions took over and I was completely speechless. I honestly did not know what to think. I love kids and the thought of any child dying is always heart breaking, but did this child just escape a life of darkness? I am a firm believer that children, especially small children, are accepted into the Kingdom at death. This child, judging by the size of the sheet, was no older than four. This child now sings praises to the Creator. This child though was being taught to worship statues. This child was being raised to bow before the created instead of the Creator. Should I have been rejoicing in death at such a young age, or should I be weeping at the loss of a beautiful child’s life? I am still at a loss for what should be the emotions felt in such a situation. The fact truly is that the best chance many of the children in this culture have for making it into the Kingdom is a young death. Something is terribly wrong, this should not be. The children should grow up with many opportunities to hear the truth. They should be taught from an early age that He loves them and spilled His blood for them. They are not. Many are taught that the Savior is a simply a good teacher. Others are taught that they should run from him. A few will stand before him at judgment and will be hearing of him for the first time, and a few others will at some point here a true presentation of the Gospel and accept. While the situation is not completely hopeless, the hope is small. What then should we do? Why do we sit with apathy while the fires of hell burn endlessly and the souls of the lost cry like the rich man? Would you want your child to grow up without the King? Will you continue to watch families raise their children to serve false idols? You see the difference here and the difference in American children is not that different. Children here are taught to serve the created and children back home are often taught to serve themselves. They are taught to serve the created.

As I have thought often about this scene lately, I do not have an answer. I have thought about what the child must be feeling watching loved ones weep and cry out to the rocks. Does she run to the throne and beseech with tears and wailing The Mighty One on behalf of her family. Can you even do such a thing? Does the child weep at their lostness. I do not know what happens but I know these children should be given a chance. The children of my country, the children of Asia, Africa, and the entire world should hear about our Savior. We must not, we can not sit by and watch the world burn.

Standing at the Door

The incredible trip that gave me the opportunity to meet Rupak, provided me with some other great stories that I hope to eventually get to and today I will write about another one.

During this trip we went from village and had some incredible opportunities to share about the King. Most of the time people were very accepting of at least hearing the Truth, but there where a few times that we were completely rejected. One of these times was particularly heart breaking; actually crushing to both heart and soul would be more appropriate.

We had been in this particular village for only a few hours. This was the team’s first day of trekking and we had arrived at a believer’s house. We dropped our packs and eat ate a little food. The guys were pretty exhausted and while this was not the hardest trek my team usually does, I will give these guys a little credit. The trek had been on the incline the entire time. I will take a little jab at them just in case they are reading this. The trek should have taken no more than two hours, but the hills (mountains) here have been known to turn grown men into boys. This can have the same humbling effect as the first time a person tries skiing or snowboarding. Watching women walk past you carrying a eighty to a hundred pounds of corn in a basket strapped to their head is similar to the humbling and utterly useless feelings you get when an eight year old Shaun White (Michael Jordan of snowboarding) laughs at you while you watch him fly by from you severely bruised and beaten down backside. It had been a long hike though and we were all glad to be looking back down at the trail knowing the first days walk was finished.

It was middle of the afternoon when we arrived in this village and we had some time before dinner so we decided to head out and share with anyone that would listen. I went with one of the guys on the volunteer team and a national that was going to do some translating for us. We went to a couple of houses and shared about the King and people listened. The first house we went to there were only a few people. The next house went from about three people to twenty by the time we were finished. There were no stories of salvation at either one of the houses, but praise Him that many heard his truth. Once we finished at the last house we headed down the side of the mountain to a small group of about four houses to see if we could find anyone else that would listen. The first house we went to something unique happened.

We walked around the corner of this house and were greeted by a young man, probably in his mid thirties. We said hello and before we could even tell him why we were there he impatiently asked if we had any medicine. We told him that we did not. He then told us how his father was sick and was dying. He asked again for medicine, and again we told him that we did not have any. I then mentioned that while we had no medicine we did have access to the One that could heal. I told him that we would love to come in and pray over his dad. I do not know if God would have healed his father but should we not have faith that he could? That he would? We were never given the chance though to pray with him. The local witch doctor was already in this man’s house and was doing what he could to heal him. I do not know what you know about spiritual warfare, but one thing I have learned since being here is that the witch doctor is not without power. This power is not from God, but it is power. This situation yielded a result that was not in the favor of the witch doctor.

We offered also to share with this man about the King, but we were asked to leave. This was not a complete shock, so onto the next house we went. Once we arrived at the next house we began to tell the family about the King. They listened and then man that had just rejected us joined the audience. He sat quietly and listened as well. The men then asked a few questions when we finished, and that was the end of our visit. Before we left though I told the man that I was going to be praying for his father and before I could even finish the sentence the man told me no. This man did not want me praying for his father. Why not? What would make a man refuse the power of God? Why would he not let me ask God for healing?

We left the house and returned to the believer’s home. We ate dinner and then had a small time of worship. The next morning we woke up to the crow of the rooster, but another sound was also on the air. The drums were beating and the horns were blowing. That night the man that we had pleaded to pray with had died. He died and that night his soul was bound for an eternity of torment. He is in hell, forever. I wondered that morning what would have happened had we been given the opportunity to pray. I wondered if that man would have been healed or even more incredible would have encountered amazing grace.

Why were we refused? I think the truth lies in fear of God’s power. This man, as my local friend pointed out, knows that believers have power. If we had prayed for this man and he had been healed, this man would be faced with a decision. Would he continue to deny the One True God or would he call Him, Savior. How could he continue in the uselessness that he called religion when it could not heal? How could he deny the power of a Risen Savior? His dilemma may have lead to the death of his father, but I think this is a dilemma that we to sometimes face?

We deny situations that challenge our faith. We are satisfied with who God is to us. I think often we are scared of God showing himself to us, so we do not let him. What if you were in a situation where you had to trust in Him. I once heard a preacher quote Adrian Rogers. I could not verify if this quote was true, but I will go ahead and use it. “I do not ever want to know that God is truly all I need.” I think this is very true. This man did not want to know that God had power. He did not want to have to answer to such power. We do not want to have to trust him with everything. We want to believe that we have power. This man wanted to believe he had power to heal. He does not, and neither do we. God alone is the great provider. He has the power to heal, the power to sustain and he and he alone has the power to offer life. You must have faith in Him, and you cannot deny him. You can continue to live with a weak view of Him or you can continue to give more an more of you life to the Sovereign King. Paul said he consider all things loss to the surpassing greatness of knowing God, but we often know nothing of this surpassing greatness. Would you not like to know though? You can partake of this same knowledge that Paul spoke so passionately about, just as this man and has father could have. Can you keep denying Him?

Mero Di (My Older Brother)

Missing family is something that happens pretty often here. I miss watching ball games with them, playing sports with my brothers, worshiping with them at church, and really miss all the great conversations had on the deck while drinking a cold Sun-Drop as the sun falls below the horizon. My brother got engaged the weekend before I jumped on a plane across the pond. This was a time of great excitement for my family and myself, but also I felt a little sadness at thinking that my brother was going to get married and I was going to have to watch through the internet. I am only about 18 months apart in age from my brother and this led to us being pretty darn close. To say that we spent a lot of time together as children would be like saying a tiger is just a cat or the SEC is just another football conference it just would not do it justice. We did pretty much everything together. We rode bus 25 to school together. Played every sport together and played together everyday of the summer. We played baseball in the yard, pretended to be Michael and Scottie on our dunk goal. We shot each other with “guns” and dressed up as Batman and Robin. We rode our bikes on every trail we could find, and one of our favorite things to do was hunt snakes in the creek behind the house. We along with my cousin Charlie, good friend Joe, and younger brother Chris, when he was up to it, never stopped playing. My brother was my best friend and I was his. I wanted to be at his wedding and the thought of missing it was going to be one of the biggest regrets of my life.

The Big Guy smiled on me though and made some things happen and last weekend I was in my hometown to be there to watch one of my heroes marry the love his life. I not only was able to watch but was able to officiate his wedding. It was truly one of the greatest honors of my life. I was also able to make it home without him knowing I was coming and got to see a look on my brothers face I had never seen before. I thought about filming that moment when I walked into his classroom but I will be honest I wanted that moment forever to myself. I will tell you about if you want to know, but I could never replicate that look.

This past weekend got me thinking a lot about my time as young boy. I thought about my brother and my cousin and the time we spent together. I thought a lot about our time in high school. What a joy it was to be only one year behind my brother. I would highly recommend having your children close in age if you can. Nothing was better than getting ready to run another play in football and looking at my brothers back and know that no man could give more effort than he would be giving to get me into the end-zone. I have a respect for him that seconds probably only the respect I have for my father. I learned a lot from him and that is what I am going to write about. These are just a few of the many things I learned from my brother.

1. You stand up for what you believe in – There are really to many stories to recount here, but you don’t usually have to question where my older brother stands. He isn’t the most vocal guy in the world, but wavering on his beliefs is not part of his character. He makes up his mind and is way to bull headed to change. His convictions are unwavering.
2. Cheating is not an option – I appreciate this about my older brother, but to say that it didn’t lead to balls being thrown at each other would be lying. This trait though has carried over to today and you can often passionately hear him talk about one of his players or his team getting wronged. He will never forger such a wrong, and will do all he can to right such a wrong. Life is not fair, but when we have the power to change should we really just watch from the sideline?
3. Family is important and you fight for them – I remember a time in elementary school while playing soccer an older boy decided he did not like what I had done. I can not think of any thing I was have done as cocky little kid, but he was there fist raised and ready to fight. In that moment there was a problem for him, staring him down was my brother. That fight never happened. I also avoided a little hazing in football as my older and more respected brother was not in the business of letting that happen to me. I am not advocating fighting here, but it is nice to know that your family is always there for you.
4. You are always true to yourself – I am by no means the most stylish guy in world. I try not to make to many fashion mistakes, but my brother has different thoughts. He is a lover of wearing socks with sandals. This is not a fashion statement for him, but simply him not caring. He is a guy that likes to wear socks with sandals. I have pleaded with him often not to, but he likes it that way. I need a lot more of this attitude in my life, but I will not be wearing socks with sandals anytime soon. I should care a lot less about what people think though.
5. You always support your family – When I was a freshman in high school. I had one of the best days in my life when I made the basketball team, but one thing that would have made this better is if my brother had made the team. He was left off the roster though. I had no idea how Nathan would handle this. I know if the positions had been switched I probably would not have been too happy. My older brother was a bigger man. I have been forever humbled by his support of me over the next couple of years. He cheered and cheered for me on the front row of the student section. He showed more love to me that an arrogant younger brother was ever deserving of receiving. Should we not rejoice in our brother success even when we may fell like we failed? We are selfish people though.
6. Vacations are alright – My brother is a school teacher and this leads to him having a lot of time off in the summer. I would probably spend this time seeing the world. He sees this as a chance of telling more people about the King. I think we could all do better to spend less time worrying about making it to the beach and a little more time making His name great.
7. Cartoons can still make you laugh – One of my favorite things to do is to sit around with my brothers and cousin and talk about the shows we spent our Saturday mornings watching. GI Joes, Transformers, Thunder Cats and He-Man were a few of our favorites. Such lesser known classics as DinoRiders, Jabber Jaws, and Voltron can also bring a smile to our faces. He doesn’t really watch them anymore, but I think we could all do better to look back at these memories. We should all try to recapture that feeling of joy and happiness that could only be felt by watching Snake Eyes and Sergeant Slaughter defeat Cobra or maybe if you are of the female gender you enjoyed a good Care Bear Stare. Life is to short to not enjoy a little laughter at the simpler things.
8. Believing in someone is sometimes the best thing you can do – I know math is a difficult subject for some. My brother though chose this as his profession. He teaches math to high schoolers. This seems like a pretty daunting task. He is not always a big fan of the effort that some of his students make, but he never doubts that a single one can do the work. He not only believes they can, but is willing to do what it takes to show that he believes. So often I want to write people off and move to those that can get the work done, but for Nathan that is not the answer. Everyone needs someone to believe in them at times. Nathan is the one that always believes.
9. Board Games are better than TV – Nathan has a stack of board games that would shock Milton Bradley. I am fan also and have spent many longs nights trying to beat him. Often on those nights, I am drug out from in front of the TV to play. I had a nice bag of chips and a coke and was ready to veg out, but older brother would have none of it. I never regret putting down the remote and playing a game. It is not the game though I enjoy so much, it is the time with my family laughing and cutting up that I got from turning off the TV that made it worth it. If you get the idea to play Nathan in any game that can sit on top of a table, you should be prepared to walk away a loser, but know the time spent around that table will make it worth it.
10. God makes her – I do not believe in the idea of “the one.” This thought that God has predestined one girl for anyone seems to go against the idea of free will the Word gives to us. I believe in this decision we have free will, but Nathan almost makes me believe other wise. Nathan has been searching for the girl that he would marry for quite some time, but has never been to aggressive in pursing her. He has dated some, but you always knew he was patiently waiting for her. I always felt if he found that one girl that made him smile on his worst days that he would stop at nothing to make her his. That is what he did. When God opens doors for us we could do a little better to run wildly to the will of our King.

My brother is an incredible guy. He has been a worthy example for my brothers and I. He is a hero of mine that I always want to be proud of me. I have not always been as good an older brother to my younger brothers, but it was not because he was a bad example. He could write a book on being a brother, that we would all do good to read. We all have those people that we are inspired by. We have brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, grandparents, pastors and teachers, and good friends that push us towards greatness. Who are your heroes, your inspirations, and your mentors? How have that helped form the person you are today? Maybe we should take a little time to thank them.

Thanks Nathan, I love you.

In Service of the King

Serving is something that is preached from both conservative and liberal pulpits. Christ, as he should be, is the beacon of service. The Book is full of story after story of his acts of service. He brought healing to the sick, subsided the hunger of the hungry and even called lifeless men back from the grave. He is an awesome example that we all must follow when it comes to not only serving our brothers but also in serving the whole of humanity. Have you ever found your self in a Peter situation? Those times when you are absolutely humbled in being served. I love to be able to serve. I love when I have the opportunity to give to those that are in need and even to those who are not. Serving always comes with an incredible blessing. This is a feeling that all people search for, even those that do not claim the Risen Savior. The Peter situation always puts my soul at unrest. I am the one that is suppose to serve. God has given me more than I could deserve in a thousand life times, and I must be willing to give back in anyway that I can. God over my few years of being serious about my faith has taught me about another type of service that goes way beyond just “doing stuff” for others.

When I was in college I was given an incredible opportunity. A brother had started a Study of the Word a few years before my arrival on campus. He was graduating after the first semester, and asked if I would be willing to continue this time of leading a group of about thirty students in the Spring. I was a little worried about this at first. I had preached a few times in my life, but was always given a fair amount of time to prepare. I guess it is kind of embarrassing to look at the amount of time that I had and the sorry excuses for sermons I was preaching. This would require a weekly preparation for hungry college students, and following in the footsteps of a guy that had done an incredible job. I really thought I was not ready for this, but knew also that I could not turn this down. I wanted to lead these students.

This time went incredibly well. I was challenged in preparing, but He was teaching me much about the Truth. I was also learning more about teaching the Word and it is safe to say that I learned more than those I taught. God was using this to prepare me for what He had planned for me. I remember one day, I was asked to report to the RD’s office. He was they man I often answered to. I was a little worried because at the time me saying something heretical was probably not out of the question, and honestly had probably whipped out a few stake burnable offenses already. That was not the topic of this meeting though. The school was coming up on Spiritual Emphasis week and he wanted me to do something outside the usual run of the mill week. He wanted me to think about it and let him know the next week. I knew what He desired as he began to pound on my heart as soon as the RD mentioned doing something different. I had never been part of a foot washing service, but that is what was going to happen. I went back a few days later and told him, now all I had to do was figure out how they actually worked.

A few friends and myself set down and decided to work this out. Simon, who lead the worship, was just going to play and sing for as long as it took, and I would sit in the middle of the room. I let them come at their own leading and washed feet for about an hour. This was probably one of the most incredible nights of my life as I really was able to serve my friends in an incredible way. I must be honest though and admit there were a few that came that I really had no desire to wash their feet. This is where the true blessing was found, but something that happened afterwards was what still sticks out in my mind about this night.

Steve Guinead is a great friend of mine and he was used to speak truth into my life. Steve is of the Non Denominational leanings and God used him in many long conversations to sharpen my mind. We lived across the hall from each other, and many nights Steve, my roommate and I would watch TV and shoot the breeze. This night the conversation turned to the foot washing service pretty quickly. We talked for a few minutes and then Steve said something I will never forget. “As humbling as that was for you to wash all those feet, letting you wash my feet was the most humbling thing I have ever done.”

This country has brought this truth to my mind again. The first trek I went on with my team I was not prepared physically. There were seven people on our team, five guys and two girls. Also going with us were three porters. These three guys are believers, and are friends of a man that my team often works with. They were carrying most of the girls’ things, their own things and what seemed to me like a full library of books that were being delivered to a village about a three days hike away. The first day was a relatively easy day. My forty-pound pack felt pretty light. The next day started out much of the same and I was pretty confident in my ability to keep going. Then as the day was coming to an end we were on the wrong side of a 600-meter climb. I quickly lost all confidence I had gained over the last day and a half. The climb had to be done though. I started out pretty quickly and things were okay, but every step my feet were harder to pick up and my pack felt heavier. I really have no idea how long it took to get up the mountain, but my since of manliness was lost about half way up when the Japanese women started smoking me like the tortoise smoked the hare. Feel free to laugh, the Japanese women sure did.

As we neared the end of this hike my body was spent. I had came to the point that if I tried to carry my pack much further, I honestly did not think I would finish on my own power. The team was pretty far ahead of me, and on the side of the trail was a small house that was selling cokes. I threw my pack down. I set down on the rocks in the now rainy weather and was given my coke. The porters asked more than once to carry my pack for me, but my pride would have none of that. They were carrying more than I was already, and they may have weighed 120 pounds soaking wet. I was wishing now though that I had let these men serve me. I could not pick the pack up again. Then what has to be only second to only The Savior stepping through the clouds, two of the porters stepped around the corner of the small building I was resting at. They laughed a little at me and then one of them put the pack on his back. We walked a few steps and then I noticed that they had left the other stuff they were carrying on some rocks. One of them set my pack down grabbed up the large bag of books, his bag and then grabbed my bag threw it on top of everything else. I felt as weak as I had ever felt in that moment but also felt loved. This man carried my pack, and I, head bowed, walked slowly behind him the remainder of the day’s trek.

I learned much that day about being served. I did not enjoy it, and it was one of the hardest things I ever did in giving up that pack. The believers here love to serve. I have been served and served often. I am completely undeserving of such love, but must be accepting of it. I have learned here that often times the best way to serve is by being served. There is a huge blessing in being on served in of service, but we must be able to accept it humbly if we truly want to always be serving. The Son came to serve and not be serve. Are you serving Him and are you letting Him serve you? You absolutely could be missing His blessing if you are constantly caught up in service. There truly is an act of service and humility gained that goes into being served by your fellow man.