Response to Revelation

I confess.

I'm woefully behind in my "one year Bible" reading.  At least by 60 days plus.  On December 22 I'm reading October 21 material.   Still making my way out of Jeremiah.  Ahead, the inscrutable Ezekiel beckons to be  navigated.  Reach the final port before year's end?  Not likely.

Still, what a remarkable journey, to read through the Word in one year.  Every other day or so--sometimes each day--I run across something that I had not known or had forgotten.  Often I just stumble into the stunning...and don't want to rush by.

Like this morning.  Most of Jeremiah's ministry was a very tough run.  He had the unenviable task of telling Judah that Babylon's armies were going to ruthlessly run them over, and that the Jewish King and the southern Kingdom should willingly submit.  God's judgment on their faithlessness could no longer be forestalled--though God had given them virtually innumerable repentance opportunities to date.

Still, though rejected repeatedly, Jeremiah kept getting messages from the Lord, and delivering the difficult mail.

Recorded in Jeremiah 36 is yet another unpopular prophetic assignment.  Jeremiah is to use his scribe (Baruch) to record all the messages Yahweh had asked his prophet to deliver over the years.  The dictation process began. Then, the scroll-anthology was to be read in the temple by Baruch to the king's administrative officials.  The reading commenced.  The words whipped the proud hearts of the king's cronies, who soon made their way to report to Jehoiakim.

The king immediately sent for Baruch's scroll.  Unrolling it and reading, Jehudi commenced verbalizing Jeremiah's burden of truth for an audience of one, King Jehoiakim.  Jehoiakim's response is stunning, though perhaps not surprising to those who knew him.  "Each time Jehudi finished reading three or four columns, the king took a knife and cut off that section of the scroll.  He then threw it in the fire, section by section, until the whole scroll was burned up" (Jeremiah 36:23).

The next verse explains.  "Neither the king nor his attendance showed any signs of fear or repentance at what they heard" (36:24).

If you visualize the scene, you find yourself watching a very foolish man.  Listening to the whole of years of prophetic witness, each message scourging the king's proud heart, he regarded divine revelation as nothing but useless tinder for a fire to keep him warm (he sat in the "winterized" room of his palace, stoked by the fireplace).  Self-assured, blind, though for a few minutes perhaps provided a few more licking flames to spike the room temperature, the king foolishly sealed his fate.

"He who has ears to hear," Jesus said often, "let him hear."   Or not.  Jehoiakim's fireside antics fueled for him...in just a few short months... the awful fire of the relentless judgment of God.  One may discard God's given word, but such a word never returns to God void without accomplishing what He intended.

When God speaks to us, our positive response to it can always bring new life, hope, and opportunity.  Our rejection simply evidences how habitually foolish our hearts may have become.  So, what's your response to what God says to you these days?

Tim Tebow - A Portrait of Thanksgiving

It's tough not to be a Tebow fan today.  Perhaps the next loss will dim some of the shine of the past 8 weeks of his quarterback leadership, but win, lose, or draw...I'm a fan. 

Here's why.

"In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus" (1 Thessalonians 5).

Tebow gets this.  He also expresses it.  Keep kneeling; keep pointing up, Tim!

His kneeling or pointing to the sky has nothing to do with God helping him to win games.  As many others have observed, there are always followers of Christian faith on both sides of the scrimmage line.

But it has everything to do with a thankful heart.

If anyone would explore this with young Tim, they'd understand that he's developed a habit which is the will of God for every Christ follower.  He understands what Scripture says.  Our lives, our moments, are in God's hands.  He provides every good thing given, every breath, every ounce of strength...even to those who fail to acknowledge that ALL of every right thing in life IS a GIFT.

Psalm 57:9
I will give thanks to you, O Lord, among the peoples; I will sing praises to you among the nations.

Lead on, Tim.   Keep pointing us to the One who gave, and gives, it all.

A Tribute to my Aunt Jean (Robinson)

A Quiet Tribute to Jean Robinson

December 10, 2011

          My own memories of my mother’s sister, Jean Robinson, always create a deep smile in my heart.   Aunt Jean was the kind of aunt that you didn’t see very often (because she lived so far away, almost all the time), but when you did get to see her and spend time with her, you wanted to do it more.

          We all knew that at her heart, she was a “missionary.”  She lived with a mission -- to see the gospel and the person of the gospel, Jesus Christ, become large in people’s lives.  Early on, she gave herself to the Lord to be used any way He desired.   She loved people who were very different from her with the love of the Lord Himself.  She was a servant, a wife and companion, a mother, a grandmother, a writer, teacher, musician and many other things.   But at her heart, she was a missionary.

          For some reason, a slide show of her and Uncle Bob’s ministry, along with the boys, and Aunt Jean singing in the background of that slideshow, continues to play melodically and beautifully in my head.  The song she sang, clearly as a testimony of how she had learned to live and daily  trust her Lord, was “I know Who Holds Tomorrow.”

I don't know about tomorrow;
I just live from day to day.
I don't borrow from its sunshine
For its skies may turn to grey.
I don't worry o'er the future,
For I know what Jesus said.
And today I'll walk beside Him,
For He knows what lies ahead.

(Chorus) Many things about tomorrow
I don't seem to understand
But I know who holds tomorrow
And I know who holds my hand.

Every step is getting brighter
As the golden stairs I climb;
Every burden's getting lighter,
Every cloud is silver-lined.
There the sun is always shining,
There no tear will dim the eye;
At the ending of the rainbow
Where the mountains touch the sky.

                Aunt Jean was a tireless encourager of others, including me,  in the call to ministry.  I cherish the investment she made in a number of our young people several years ago when she visited Ames and we had a “missionary lunch” with as many of our High Schoolers as wanted to come.  I recall how she told stories and cast vision even as the kids leaned into the table to listen more closely.  Many of those kids are in training even now for overseas service.

            Welcome home, Aunt Jean!   You’ve now joined the “cloud of witnesses” awaiting your reward until the rest of us finish (Hebrews 11).   We love you, and will love seeing you again in the presence of the One who holds tomorrow…and our hands, just like He held yours.

David A. Staff

Lead Pastor – First Evangelical Free Church * Ames IA

Giving Your Life Away

What a strange idea...to give your life away.


Yet that is exactly what Jesus calls "normal."  Normal is "denying yourself" and "taking up your cross daily."  As Don Carson (TEDS) writes so profoundly in his book, HOW LONG O LORD?, "taking up your cross..."


1)     It does not mean to put up with some relatively minor irritant.  Crucifixion was a form of execution reserved for the most despised and evil of criminals.  “To take up one’s cross” was to go to the place of shameful, painful execution


2)     The alternative to doing this is to “forfeit one’s soul,” to gain the world’s approval and Jesus’ disapproval.  To lose your life is to discover what one has denied before: they belong to God by creation, they can never find themselves, never be fulfilled, never realize their potential unless they abandon self-interest and abandon themselves to God


3)     Jesus casts this confrontation in terms of Christian witness.  Ashamed of Jesus now, He will be ashamed of you at the end of this age.

Paul himself suggests to the Philippian believers that to suffer because you follow Christ is a privilege which is granted (Phil 1:29-30).   Carson adds...

There is parental and pastoral implication to all this.  Sometimes we want to protect our children or our flock from too many things…from the caustic scorn of peers…I look at my children, and I wish for them enough opposition to make them strong, enough insults to make them choose, enough hard decisions to make them see that following Jesus brings with it a cost—a cost eminently worth it, but still a cost.  A church that is merely comfortable, that never evangelizes, never encourages its people to stand on the front line, will never be strong, never be grateful, never be able to sort out profoundly Christian priorities. (p. 87)

Take time to think about your living these days.  For yourself?  Or for the One who gave His life away resulted in many being restored to God?   People far from God are drawn to Him, again, when Jesus' followers live like Jesus (cf. 1 John 2:3-5).

Praying On the Sidelines

Over 10 years of serving as a team pastor for the Iowa State Cyclone Football team (under Coach Dan McCarney, now at North Texas State), and now again as I volunteer with the 2011 Cyclones, I have often wondered before God how to pray at football games.

Of course, I get asked questions all the time.  Questions (accompanied by a sheepish smile, which means it's a half-serious, half-not question) like

• do you pray for your team to score, or make a great play?
• do you pray for the team to win?
• were you praying when the team came back like that?
• do you think God cares who wins?
• what about players on the other side...what does God do when they are praying too?

These questions actually do have answers:  No, no, yes, no, and "what would you do if you were God?".

Nonetheless, I do pray when standing on the sidelines.  Here's how I think I am to pray.

First, I pray that somehow, through all the thousands of things that are going on all over the place in a stadium, both in the stands and on the field, that somehow God would be thought about and honored in this, and that Jesus Christ might become important in people's lives.  At most games, there are thousands without a personal, life-changing relationship with Christ.  One can quickly and easily look into the faces of any number of people, and if you're kingdom-hearted, you begin to pray for lost people.

Second, I pray for those players on either side of the gridiron who are Christ's disciples, that they will play (and that Christ-following coaches will coach) with God's strength, energy, and focus, so that their play (or coaching) will truly stand out so as to bring honor to Christ.  And should God grant them His extra encouragement, I pray that they will then be humble, and give the glory to the Lord they love and whose life they exude as they play the game.  I pray for their teammates and coaches to recognize that Jesus Christ is truly making a life-changing difference in these kingdom warriors.

Third, I pray for a player who goes down, or gets hurt.  The other night, one of our running backs went down, and there was a scramble by the docs and trainers to see if he were OK.  They lingered on the field, and I felt prompted to pray for God to enter the care huddle and bring His healing touch, energy, and strength to #21.  After a long delay, Shontrell got up and walked off the field...and reentered the game later on.  After the game, I mentioned to him how I longed for God to energize him in those hurting moments...and I appreciated his smile when he heard it.  I also pray for a player whose injury may result in being on the sidelines for a long time.  Another kind of healing and perspective needs to happen in these cases, when the prospect of playing in the upcoming season suddenly evaporates.

Here's my coaching tip for you Jesus-following football fans.  Go cheer your team on!  Wear the body paint, the hats, the gear...whatever.  But also, make your 3 1/2 hours at a game an opportunity for you to beg God for His presence and power to move in and around  that stadium.  Pray for the other fans around you.  Pray that all of the 50,000+ will have the Spirit of God move into their lives and show them the greatest Person they could meet...someone who is worthy of all their praise and attention.  

Yeah...go to the game, and pray.

ALL IN - what's it mean?

"ALL IN!"

In poker, you've just pushed it all to the center of the table.
In the United Kingdom, an all-out 20th century British wrestling style.
In entertainment, an HBO special featuring "nothing held back" Dennis Miller.

On his knees,  a sweat-drenched Jesus of Nazareth laying it all down: "Not what I want, Father.  I'm all in with Your Will."

On the practice turf of the team Cyclone warriors, it is the cry that quietly captures what it takes from each man  to make something special happen.

Last night, Dustin Brooks and I heard that and more from about 20 Cyclones in a priority:one huddle in the Gold Room.  "Everything I have focused on one common goal."  "Family"  "Nothing allowed to distract"  "Every man bringing every thing he's got"   Great commitment; intense leadership.

So, what does it mean in a relationship with God?
Two different worlds...the same...or what?


"One (the relationship with God) gives energy and power to the other (all-in football)."  That's how they see it.  These guys, like the apostle Paul, don't think they have arrived yet (check out Philippians 3), but they are in the hunt for a more powerful relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ, and the experience of having that power energize an all-in effort with the entire Cyclone football family.

"Every athlete exercises self-control in ALL THINGS...I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air.  I discipline my body, and make it my slave...to receive an imperishable prize" (1 Corinthians 9:24-27).

Every ALL-IN athlete does this.  Especially those empowered and energized by the God whose strength is without limit.

Go Cyclones...

Summer Days in Tbilisi, Georgia FINAL - Worship in Tbilisi, then Heading West

Monday, August 8, 2011   Tbilisi Worship and Heading West

As my 2^nd Sunday morning dawned in Tbilisi, we were all aware that our in-apartment worship service would begin somewhere around 11:00 AM.  Gia characteristically was scurrying around managing many of the details – set of the apartment room, food and drink, making sure those needing transportation could get there.

The guest speaker for the day, I took an early walk with my notes from last April’s Easter message, “The Power of the Resurrection.”  Along what has become a familiar route through the complex of apartments to the north, I practiced what I would say, attempting to pare it down and simplify, given that it would be translated into Georgian.  By 8:30 I was back home.

Some 14-15 would gather, including 2 brand new believers in their early 20’s, who had trusted Christ at the English Camp the previous week.  Masha is a pretty young Georgian girl, who hopes to get a waitressing job (her interview was Sunday).  On the day when the Houston team was about to head home, she surrendered her heart to Jesus.  The young man (I’ve misplaced his name) also bowed to receive Christ.  He is REALLY hungry for the word, and after the worship service, stayed to pepper some of the other young Georgian believers with questions about the Bible.  This new babe in Christ has all the early earmarks of a future leader, should his hunger and growth continue.    We were also joined by Wade and Meagan Housh, Pentecostal Missionaries from Kansas.  Delightful couple.

Following the 2 hour service, tables were arranged in the middle of the room to make one long eating area, and there was food!   Georgian bread, cokes, meats and cheese, and much talk.   Given that about ½ the church was away on August vacation, this nucleus has great potential for a growing church in Tbilisi.

Sunday afternoon was spent doing what we often do in the USA on Sunday afternoons – no, not watch football, but some napping, and for Jim and me, packing and preparing to head to the Tbilisi airport later that night for journeys away from Georgia.  Jim to Baku, Azerbaijan, and me to Munich, Newark (NJ) and finally Des Moines, IA.

In the early evening, Jim, Gia, and I returned to the restaurant where we had eaten with the Houston team about a week before.  The service was slow but the Georgian food, and fantastic (!) Georgian music was quite good.  We spent some of the time talking about our assessments re: the viability of the Bakke program in Georgia.

Returning to the apartment, a group of men were working hard in the graveled parking area next to the apartment.  Oiled gravel was being poured out in portions in the parking lot running parallel to the building.  Picture about 10 menm several in un-buttoned shirts or t-shirts, and sandals, most with extended stomachs over the belt (they eat well here!), working shovels, rakes, shouting instructions at each other, attempting in the cloudy early evening to put a new layer of a kind of asphalt on the parking lot.  They would complete the job, and then run the heavy dump truck over the raked out gravel, compressing it into a mostly-hardened surface.  I went down to watch, and a couple of the younger men looked and me and asked me in Georgian what I thought (at least I think that’s what they asked).  My international signal was a “thumbs up” and a wide smile.  In that moment, I really wished I could have spoken with the men, or that one of them would have thrust one of the rakes in my hand.  Here are the men of Georgia who need to know how much Jesus Christ personally loves them.

Before leaving about 11:30 PM, Jim and I tried to nap before what would be a virtual “all nighter” at the Tbilisi airport.  Gia came and in the rain we loaded up, heading further south to the beautiful airport complex.  Jim and I talked some before he checked in and went to the gate for the flight to Baku.  Jim is a great soldier in missions – hopeful, relational, fun, and very intentional about the gospel in this part of the world.  He will deserve his “well done” when he meets the Savior, and he’s been a gracious host and leader for me on this trip.

TAKING OFF 

Struggling to stay awake in the airport till my boarding at 3:30 AM, I remembered I’d packed a copy of the movie AMAZING GRACE – the story of William Wilberforce’s  fight for the abolition of slave trade and slavery in the British Empire.  What a movie!  I watched it twice, and had tears at the end of each showing.  Everyone should watch this, and step into the shadow of Wilberforce in his/her generation.   Make a difference with the gospel on fire in your heart.

By the way, Lufthansa is one great airline.  We actually pulled away from the gate 10 minutes early and took off 2 minutes early, heading to Munich.  We landed at 5:45 AM in Germany.  Four hours later, I boarded a Continental Flight 107Y for Newark NJ.  I was grateful to be able to sleep about six of the 9 hours of that flight. 

Within a few short hours, by the grace of God, I’ll depart from the Liberty International Airport, and soon touch down in Des Moines, IA to greet my bride again. 

Thank you for your prayers and interest in this trip.  May Georgia discover the grace of God, and the joy of walking with the Lord Jesus Christ.    Pray for the future of a training program in Georgia for young evangelical pastors and leaders, that God will raise up those who have a passion and calling to be a part of a Caucasus  revival toward Jesus.

Summer Days in Tbilisi, Georgia #10 - Safely to Tbilisi

Saturday, August 6, 2011 – “Gentlemen.  Start your engines!” (Or, there are no solid YELLOW lines in Georgia)

We’re off!  Heading north up the coastline of the Black Sea, the first leg in our car journey back east to Tbilisi.  The adventure begins!  Soon, we'll take a "right" and head east, through these gorgeous Georgia gorges (say that three times fast!).  As you can see, Gia's daughter, Salome (Sah-lo-MAH) did not want her daddy to leave.

He'll be back in a few days.

Just under two years ago, I visited India.  We landed in Hyderabad, and were driven to Khammam.  It was one of the more harrowing experiences of my life.  I was introduced to a new version of aggressive driving, edition #1 driving to Khammam followed by edition #2 driving from Khammam.  It was an experience that surpassed the in-city, 60+ MPH cab ride in Istanbul where the driver insisted I not wear a seat-belt.  “No!  No!” he protested, “I good driver.”

My two day drive from Tbilisi to Batumi, and back again, has added yet another chapter in my learning not to be a back-seat driver, no matter how much one might want to become one.  Through the winding roadways of middle Georgia’s mountains, I have concluded that there is “so such thing as a solid YELLOW line” on the non-divided two-lane highways of this country.  Any limitation on passing other vehicles is only regulated by how aggressive the driver decides to be, or not to be.  Understand: along this highway, cars are already bumper to bumper both ways.  Yet climbing, descending, blind curves or no…Gia (and I conclude he’s typical) decides that if he can get this Honda’s nose just ahead of the car in front, he then has established the right to duck right in the nick of time when suddenly an oncoming car or truck appears.  Add to this mix the aimlessly wandering cattle, or occasional (Iowa-sized) swine lumbering across the way. 

They keep asking me if my stomach is OK.  Well, it’s not the food…J.  The beauty outside the window is breathtaking, too!

I thought I’d gotten used to it until just about 15 minutes ago.  Suddenly the traffic was stopped.  And nothing was coming.  So Gia decided to pass, and came up upon several Police Cars that were working a horrific accident involving two smaller vehicles.  Clearly, anyone in the first vehicle did not survive.  Perhaps someone in the second vehicle.  Gia’s passing did get us to the “front of the line” of those being waved through.

Undaunted, we press on.  I write this while we are on the road…I’m assuming we’ll arrive safely to send this off.  God knows…and in that I take some measure of solace.

Georgia needs a divided four or six lane across this beautiful country.  It’s begun, coming west from Tbilisi, and has reached Gori, the town we visited just a few days ago. 

Gia safely navigated us through the mountains, returning his sister-in-law and nephew to their eager husband/dad in Gori.  After short “goodbyes,” we proceeded on the divided 4 lane to Tbilisi.  Gia navigated his Honda around the east side of the city, along a ridge which surrounds a huge reservoir which doubles as a recreation area for local residents.  This route, which we’ve taken several times, misses the madness and traffic of the downtown, and brings us more quickly to the sprawling complex of Soviet-style apartment buildings on the southeast side of the city.  Within minutes, we were back at home base, the apartment which doubles for a house church on Sundays and Wednesdays. 

It appears I will be preaching tomorrow, with Gia my translator.  Though a good number will be away on vacations (August is the month!), we’ll trust God to bring those he desires up the two flights of stairs to our small worship center.

I’d best review the sermon (yeah, I packed a couple just in case), and get to bed.   God’s blessing and best to all.  Worship well tomorrow!

Summer Days in Tbilisi, Georgia #9 - The Batumi Pastors' meeting

Friday, August 5, 2011 – A day in Batumi

The rain persisted through the night, and was more steady in the morning.  Our schedule wasn’t pressing, allowing for a bit of sleeping in.   Tamadze came mid-morning with French toast, sausage links, jams, and tea.  Jim ate heartily; I ate sparingly, nursing an “iffy” stomach.

By noon, a small group assembled for our meeting.  Zura (45-50ish) pastors a church about 20 minutes away, just on the north side of Batumi; Tamadze, Tiona (his 22 year old daughter, with 1 year of University in Tbilisi left), Tamadze’s brother (who trusted Christ just over a year ago), and a young man (Tiona’s age, perhaps) named Giorgi.  Gia was also in attendance, translating.  Jim and I sat on one end.  We started the meeting in prayer, then Jim began to explain the prospect of a master’s level course of study, through Bakke Graduate University, in Georgia.  He, and I, covered just about the same subjects, and answered the same kinds of questions, as we had in Tbilisi on Tuesday.

As I related later to Tamadze, I was unable to read well the body language of those seated around the table.  Still, after 2 hours, it appeared that there was unified support for moving forward, if God gave  us His blessing and the pieces (as it were) could fall into place.

It was time for fellowship, which meant loading in cars to head to a restaurant overlooking one of the harbors of Batumi.  A multi-layered establishment, which permitted patrons to ascend stairs and eat on various levels in order to get different views of the harbor.  The mid-afternoon luncheon lasted perhaps 1½ hours.  Most ordered an oblong bread pastry loaded in the middle with cheese, eggs, and butter…and just about anything else fattening!  In length, equaling an American football, but flat.  A bit out of step with the others, I ordered some meat – a kabob-bee – a length of meat wrapped in a tortilla, and dipped in some red, pepper sauce.  Though the other plate was ordered for me as well, I could eat none of it (nor did I dare to), and it would be taken home by the young Giorgi.

By late afternoon, everyone disbursed to their homes.  Tamadze offered to take us back to the church.  I inquired if I could walk back.   “Do you know the way?  Won’t you get lost?”  I assured them I believed I knew where I was going, and permission was granted.  "Be careful," Gia offered.  "Careful about what?" I asked.  "That you would be kidnapped," he replied, grinning.  "No, there's no chance of that.   Just don't get hit by a car or something."  

For about an hour, I wandered generally north, occasionally stepping into the small shops all displaying for sale every kind of sandal and footwear, shirts, pants, socks, hats, personal items, trinkets, souvenirs.  Foods as well.  Just off the shoreline was a commerce area consisting of a labyrinth of shops, the lanes of which snaked back behind the streetside buildings.  There was even a multi-storied mall which looked inviting, but upon entering, you discovered that virtually none of the spaces on 3 floors housed stores.  Too expensive rental space, no doubt.

Winding around, for a few minutes, I wondered if my assurances of knowing where I was going were, in fact, accurate.  My reference point where the tops of the large cranes which were loading cargo ships in the harbor.  If I kept them in view, and headed north, I would come upon (I surmised) the more familiar neighborhood of the church.   Such was the case.  I bought a coke in a small grocette.  1 Lari (about $.60).  The church was up around the corner, to the right, past the now familiar tower which had many communication satellites on it.  I found Jim and Tamadze playing a game of “horse” at the basketball goal attached to the outer wall of the courtyard behind the church.

The rest of the day was filled out with a nap, and then an evening trip back to Tamadze’s apartment for a lighter evening meal.  Four of us spent about an hour talking about issues in the Georgian Protestant church, and how the classes might be helpful.  For my part, I am yet wondering about my role – not about the “what” of the role, but rather about the feasibility of it.  Not knowing either language (Russian or Georgian), and being asked to oversee a program which requires key infrastructure support, is becoming a bit more daunting for me.  It would not be good to promise, and then not deliver. 

Somewhere around 10:30 PM, we returned to the church facility for a long night’s rest.  I listened to “all the songs” of the Concordia Choir on my iPod, while reading another episode in “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.”  Something about a stolen gem, which had been forced down the throat of a goose by the thief, who then lost track of the goose.  Holmes sorted it out, and in mercy, let the scoundrel go.

Mercy triumphing over judgment.  What God, in Christ, has done for me.

Summer Days in Tbilisi, Georgia #8 - To the Black Sea Shoreline

Thursday,  August 4, 2011  on to Batumi, Georgia

By mid-morning on Thursday in Tbilisi, we loaded in Gia’s Honda – Jim, myself, Gia, and Nina (his wife) and their infant son (7 months) for the long trek through the heart of this country. 

It would become a majestic marathon.  Majestic in that the road led west along vast elevated highways, only then to dip down into the valleys with mountains to the right and left.  Many rivers.  Railroads.  Further west, we came to unavoidable, mountainous territory, which meant clouds and intermitant rain and lush forests and foliage and towns imbedded in shallow valleys along the way.  Switchbacks, turns, and courageous passing of slower trucks.  It reminded me very much of driving in the Pennsylvanian mountains, or the Smokey Mountains.  As the road became more winding, there were more roadside cottage businesses selling food,craft items, etc…a virtual, endless “Estes Park” (Colorado) all the way.  Between reading and retrieving a teething ring for the little guy between me and Gia’s wife, I dozed on and off along the way.  

After 4-5 hours, we stopped in a large city and ate a very upscale McDonalds.  It was good to be out of the car for about an hour.  We had at least 2 hours to go.

The final leg led us into even more lush and well watered country of changing elevations.  The mountainous terrain extends virtually to the Black Sea, where the port city of Batumi is located.  Perhaps 200,000 people.  We arrived close to 6:00 PM, and first went to Tamadze’s 1^st floor apartment, the father of Gia’s wife, Ninah.  There were Ninah’s parents and 3 sisters, along with Gia and Ninah’s daughter, 5 year old (and precocious) Salome (sah-lo-meh, accent on last syllable), and a handsome young boy nephew.   Tamadze is the pastor of the believing church in Batumi, and his apartment sits on the bottom of a large, multi-storied complex of apartments, and just several hundred yards from the coastline of the Black Sea.

Not surprisingly, a bounteous Georgian meal was served to all of us around a small table in the kitchen/living room.  Salome was delighted to see her parents after almost a month of being with Grandpa and Grandma.  We ate and talked, but we travelers were a bit spent.  I took a walk along the shoreline of the Sea.  Here at least, the shore was full of rounded rocks, large, and small, and mostly flat.  It wasn’t the best place for swimming, although it was permitted, and I saw one middle aged woman unrobe and walk gingerly over the rocky surfaces and in to the waves lapping onto shore.  Her husband (or boyfriend) watched from where her robe lay.  The evening was gray, cloudy, with a steady drizzle.

With a pocketful of rocks, I made my way around a waterpark complex built along a portion of the area just up from the “beach” and then back up the divided, four lane which runs parallel to the shoreline and in front of Tamadze’s apartment complex, just one of many in the area.  I have “intentions” for these Black Sea ball-markers.

Soon, we made our way to the church complex which would be our lodgings for the next two nights, perhaps 2-3 miles north of Tamadze’s home.  Gated, the church complex is two stories, sitting on a long and narrow strip of land that runs west.  On the 1^st floor, a pastoral office, outside of which is the worship area (perhaps 17’x30’), with chairs, and a home-made podium up front.  Being both a painter and an artist, Tamadze has made sure the walls are both nicely painted, and adored with trims and artwork pieces, though not too many.  Mostly his.  He has a gift for this.  At the back of the worship area is a small kitchen.  Upstairs, accessed by a concrete, winding staircase, a second floor contains another kitchen area, and 4 rooms in which are twin beds or twin-bunkbeds.  Jim would take one room, I another, and there were others whom we did not know who would occupy the other rooms, somewhat come-and-go.

Using Jim Herrington’s mobile internet (USB) plug in, we accessed the World Wide Web, and then went to sleep, anticipating our meeting tomorrow regarding the Bakke Graduate University proposal. 

 (my apologies for the lack of pictures - my camera cord is back in Tbilisi)

Summer Days in Tbilisi, Georgia #7 - Pot Pourri of Observations

Thursday morning, August 4, 2011

OK…how about some random observations of Georgia?

v  Local Trash Collection:  women wear orange vests and sweep the sidewalks, gutters, and streets; men wear orange worksuits and ride/hang on the back of garbage trucks to pick up what the women gather (in bags) or empty large, silver, metal trash bins

v  The Game in Town: “fute-bol” or soccer.  Neighborhoods have fenced in soccer areas, usually with worn astro-turf.  Young people and adults play pick up games in these areas early in the morning, at night…anytime the sun is not blazing hot

v  History – it is measured in centuries, not years or decades.  A drive through the city or the country is a display of this ancient wall, castle, fortress, monastery, church.  Many of this elevated on the crowns of landscapes, on the sides or on top of rising mountains.

v  Georgian, please!  While the fingerprints of the Soviet era are still evident (buildings, some signs, etc), there is a definitive move to be Georgian.  Speak Georgian, write Georgian.  The second language for the next generation is not Russian, but English.

v  To Drink or Not to Drink?  The legal drinking age in Georgia is 18.  But, in the flow of life here, beer and wine are not considered alcoholic beverages.  Yesterday, the pastor of a conservative, Baptist Church bought us the best bottle of Georgian red wine, and had us raise our glasses to no less than 6 toasts (to various things, including the Lord and His work in Georgia).  Imagine a conservative Baptist pastor in the USA doing that!

v  Smiling Authorities!  Well not all of them, but yesterday, two policeman near Gori gave us helpful directions on our way home, with a smile and a wave.  They are not feared here, nor thought to be corrupt, but honored.

v  Brunettes, not Blondes   There may be no such thing as a natural blonde Georgian.  “If you see one,” Jim commented, “it is probably a Ukranian.”

v  Lari < > Dollars   1.645 Lari to $1.00 US, give or take a tenth of a Lari from day to day.  Cost of living, if using American dollars, is relatively inexpensive.

v  Centigrade < > Farenheit   I relearned how to convert.  Multiply the Centigrade temperature by 1.8, and then add 32.  (ex.  29^o Centigrade would be 84^o F.  It was 40^oC when we arrived).

v  PUMA…not Nike or Addidas.  You see PUMA gear and stores, but not the others.

v  Mercedes, BMW, Honda…and some Russian left overs.  Georgia does not have an auto manufacturer in country.

v  Russian Oil?  Forget it!  Yesterday, we wondered why two fuel stations, side by side, were so disparate when it came to customers.  One had a long line waiting for a chance at the pump, the other had but one car.  “Luk-Oil” was practically deserted.  Gia explained.  “That’s owned by the Russians.  We Georgians have no interest in lining the pockets of Russian Oil barrons!”

We are off to Batumi, a city on the western side of Georgia, on the eastern shore of the Black Sea.  I’m unsure of internet for the next 3 days.  Thanks so much for your prayers and encouraging emails.

Summer Days in Tbilisi, Georgia #6 - 2 important appointments

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

The night breezes keep everyone cool and comfortable after a number of days of 38^o-40^o C daytime heat.  When morning began to break, the coolness invited you out of the bed.  I was refreshed enough to put on workout clothing to go for a run-workout.  I wound my way east along a mostly rising paved lane that snaked among a multi-numbered group of “soviet style” apartments, the ones which I had seen on Saturday night from the Orthodox church I visited.  When the lane ended, my jog took me northwest up a divided lane street toward the rise where the church was.  Women in orange vests were out early sweeping a portion of the street to which (I surmised) they had been assigned.  Some pull-ups on a metal soccer goal pipe, some more push-ups along the way, capped with a final jog downhill…again left down the familiar main street which would take me back to the apartment.

The day ahead had two appointments.  We were dressed and off just about 9:45 AM.

We would take the “Metro Tbilisi,” descending down under the main intersection 3 blocks from the apartment.  Jim bought the pass and waved it over the electronic sensor repeatedly so that Tim, me, and then Jim could have access to the escalator going, very quickly I might add, down several stories.   We caught a waiting train and would exit 4 stops later.  Up the rapid escalator, then emerging into a brilliant Georgian sun.  Jim began looking for Brian (Wolf).

Several acknowledging waves across a crowded parking lot brought us into Brian’s awaiting van, and we traveled the short distance downtown to talk in a beautiful, well-appointed coffee shop.

APPOINTMENT #1  10:30 AM

Brian Wolf is a young man who came to Georgia from Venice, Florida.  The Venice Bible Church for some time had been supporting the Baptist church planting movement in Georgia, and out of college, Brian came in 2003/2004 as a single, 30 year old, in-country missionary serving with Pastor Levan.  Within a short time, Brian would notice, date, come to love, and then marry Pastor Levan’s daughter Maia, and the dye was cast on his long-term ministry in this part of the world.  Brian and Jim (Herrington) have come to know each other over the years, and this coffee shop appointment was our opportunity to hear from Brian his take on a number of subjects:  the state of the evangelical church in Georgia, the challenges it faces, the Georgian culture, and the nature and teaching of Orthodoxy in country.  

Brian came to help start a youth ministry at the church, and in addition, he began discipling leaders of groups that would become in-home fellowship groups in a variety of places.  Some 14 small churches were begun.  He has stayed on with the ministry, even as God has given him and Maia two children, Nathan (5) and Elizabeth (2½).

We asked Brian to speak to the nature of what Orthodoxy teaches about Jesus, Mary, and the practice of praying to saints and icons.  Brian noted that although Orthodoxy insists that it’s doctrine has not changed since “the beginning,” in truth the use of icons did not happen in the church before 600 AD, and the proliferation of them as objects of prayer and worship occurred well after 600 AD, and culminated in the Byzantine Icon controversy in the 11^th century.  “It’s essential to understand this controversy if you want to understand Orthodoxy in Georgia,” he noted, adding that “the monks were making so much money off of the crafting and selling of icons” that it was virtually impossible to stop the practice.

As to the necessary practice of praying to icons and saints, and to Mary, Tim (Simpson) asked Brian what he had been teaching students (new  or young Christians) in a recent summer camp about how to have a relationship with Jesus, in contrast to what they were familiar with in Orthodoxy.  Brian’s reply was that the Orthodox view of Jesus is that “he is angry” with us.  “He is very angry because He died for our sins, and provided a way for us to be free from our sins, and he is angry that we haven’t dealt with our sins, gotten rid of our sinfulness.”  He went on to explain that any parishioner cannot pray directly to Jesus because of this disappointment and anger.  “Your only hope is to pray to others who have influence with Jesus – his mother, other venerated saints” who have Jesus’ ear.  In this way you may be able to get Jesus to answer or provide some kind of help.

[TO THE READER:  How many Scriptures come to your mind that contradict this?]

“Furthermore, the Holy Spirit only resides in the priests,” Brian explained, and so “you have to have the priests bless you and pray for you to get any kind of help from God.”

“Which speaks to the larger problem of the superior role of tradition over Biblical revelation in Orthodoxy,” Brian continued.  “Tradition is ongoing revelation, superior to Scripture, which is given to keep improving things.  Orthodoxy insists that it can trace its historical story back to the beginning.  And though it is not recorded in Scripture, tradition records that when Jesus’ mother Mary died, her funeral procession was guarded by angels who warded off and punished any intruders.  Thomas, one of Jesus’ disciples who often doubted, was not at the funeral, but came later.  When he arrived at Mary’s tomb, he insisted that the tomb be opened, and he went inside.  While inside, he witnessed the Ascension of Mary into heaven, and bore witness to it to the church.”  This story of Mary’s ascension is printed in all the Georgian papers at the annual anniversary celebration of it, and can be read by simply doing an internet search of “The Story of the Ascension of Mary.”

Finally, we also discussed together some of the cultural values that are imbedded in the mindset and thinking of national Georgians.  “Shame vs. honor, betrayal vs. loyalty” are huge.  Few things are worse than to be publically embarrassed or shamed by another, to be betrayed.  Few things are more cherished than to give another honor, and to be loyal.  “Inconsistency is death,” Brian and Jim noted.   “You must not say and then fail to come through.”

Furthermore, “hospitality is offered whether you like someone or not.  It is an obligation.  You provide for a guest, an outsider what they need, at least once.  If you are not liked, it will likely not be offered again.  But you can tell if you are liked and trusted when a Georgian moves beyond hospitality, and shows you a bit of vulnerability, or feels the freedom to contradict or correct you.”  What about demonstrating to your host that you want to honor them.  “You must let them know that you are interested in what they want, what they would like to see happen…and not just what you would hope for.”

It was a delightful hour, and ended (for my liking) too soon.  We were to meet Gia at the MacDonalds down the way, scooted off to the next appointment.  We bid Brian a warm goodbye and headed up the shop-lined downtown street.

APPOINTMENT #2 – Pastor Beso at Gori, Georgia

Four of us (Gia, Jim, Tim, David) loaded into Gia’s Honda and made our way northwest from Tbilisi, some 45 miles to the city of Gori.  Georgian infrastructure around its capitol city is excellent; the highway miles went by quickly. 

Georgian countryside revealed itself to be one beautiful scene after another.  Broad valleys of agriculture, backdropped by modest but majestic mountains.  Every turn offered yet another vista, many of the mountain sides were dotted with centuries old fortresses, ancient monasteries, and places of orthodox worship.  At least 2 major rivers can be found along the route we took to the home city of Joseph Stalin.

Russia’s ruthless master was born and raised in Gori.  Stalin actually went to seminary in Tbilisi until he met Lenin and became part of the red revolution.  His home city pays honor to his birthplace and boyhood home.  When asked, Gia said that Georgians are ambivalent about Stalin.  Many older Georgians revere him for his strong leadership; most of the younger generations would prefer to forget about him.  A Nebuchadnezzar-like statue of Stalin stood in Gori for decades; quietly one night, after the dissolution of the Soviet Union, it was toppled and dragged off, not to be seen again.

Due to highway construction around the city, we had to make a way along a longer entry into the city.  Pastor Beso had been one of 3 pastors at the Tuesday meeting reviewing the proposal for a Bakke training center.  We were heading to visit his church and hear of God’s work through his church in Gori.  We arrived around 2:00 PM.

The Gori Baptist Church is housed in a former restaurant which has been converted into a very lovely church building, with a main worship room that can seat 400, and currently hosts about 250 in worship.  Along one corrider are nicely painted classrooms with desks and attractive flooring, newly constructed restrooms.  Turning right, more rooms, a kitchen in the process of remodel, and dorm rooms with bunk beds for when conferences are hosted…and showers nearby.

The quiet, reserved pastor we had met the day before presented himself quite differently as we stepped on to his ministry turf.  He met us at the church, accompanied by his son Roman.  Roman is 20 years old, and about to enter his 4^th year at University in Tbilisi, majoring in business.  He would like to start his own business, likely in the capitol.  He is shy, but personable, and very bright.

We spent about 45 minutes listening to Pastor Beso’s story.  He went to Russia to study engineering, but returned to Gori his spiritual life renewed, and with a call to ministry.  He has completed study at the Biblical Leaders Training Center in Krasnodar (southern Russia).  His mother was a believer in Jesus, and handed off well her biblical faith in Jesus to her son.  Beso felt his heart renewed after a period of a bit of wandering, and began ministry shortly thereafter.  His congregation is 250+, “with many young people,” and a large number of home group/smaller churches in the surrounding villages.  Some churches, like Beso’s, have had a good ministry with refugees from the two wars Georgia experienced in the 1^st decade of the new millennium.  We asked Beso to explain how his people do evangelism.  He was eager in all his explanations, and pleased in the Lord what God’s Spirit was doing.

Suddenly, we were invited to a luncheon at a local restaurant.  Perhaps Beso sensed our genuine interest in him.  We followed in Gia’s Honda as Beso and Roman led in theirs to a delightful country restaurant just outside the city.  A cooler breeze was blowing through the open courtyard eating area.  Beso insisted on treating us all to yet another Georgian meal (feast!), including a bottle of the best Georgian red wine.  As the meal progressed, with plate upon plate coming, he eagerly led us in at least ½ dozen toasts…to the Lord, to the Lord’s work in Georgia, to our wives, and to several other honored ideas.  He truly enjoyed being the toastmaster.

Needing to get Tim Simpson back to Tbilisi for his flight home in the evening, we left just after 4:00 PM.  The Georgian landscapes on the way back were even more impressive in the late afternoon sun.   Jim Herrington playfully (and yet with a serious bent) kept asking Tim to consider moving to Georgia…and Tim (who really does have a hard time saying “no” kept laughing at each “additional benefit” offered by Jim if Tim would say “yes!” (which he didn’t)

It has become a great day, and a very good finish to Tim’s time here.  Godspeed home, my brother.

Summer Days in Tbilisi, Georgia #5 - Meeting 1 with Pastors

As we woke on Tuesday morning, Tim and I were the late risers; Jim (Herrington) had been up after 6 hours and beginning to prepare for our late morning meeting with several Georgian pastors.

Sharing some orange juice together, I threatened to entitle my next blog “American Pastors Party with Co-Eds from Houston until 2:00 AM!”  The threat evoked some hearty laughter.  The truth is that the students were celebrating Masha’s conversion the previous evening, and “skyping” to home, letting parents know they are safe and on their way.  The kids from the Houston church were truly a delight – great servants, good hearted, committed fully to Jesus and ministry. As of this writing, they are well on their way home.

By 11:00 AM, pastors began arriving at the apartment—three to be precise--along with a couple of other younger men.  Beso (who pastors a church of 250 members in Gori – town of 100,000, 7 home groups, a lot of young people), whose educational training is in electrical engineering, Omari (pastors a church of 50-75 in Koga-aisi—a city of 300,000, groups meeting in several locations) is a former Ukranian Mafioso, and told some delightful stories of the difference Christ has made in his life, and Levan Akhalmosulishvlili [how’s that for a last name!] who pastors in Kakhetti.  Levan speaks fairly good English, has a medical practice while running a couple of other businesses (including a vineyard), and is jovial one moment, and appropriately serious at other moments.

Christ has made a great difference in Omari’s life!  He told this story:  Recently, a young man came through his area riding a motorcycle, and looking for some food and a place to sleep.  Omari offered to provide those things to him.  The next morning, the young man noted how friendly the Georgian people were, and how wonderful it was to have met someone who was so gracious and provided such hospitality.  Omari (former Ukraine Mafia, and KGB) smiled and said, “Yes, to be sure.  With Christ in my heart, I have gladly provided you what you needed.  Without Christ, you would have woken up and found everything you owned…gone!”  Omari’s gift is evangelism; he rarely misses an opportunity to exalt and share Christ.

Here we finally arrived at the heart of our reason to come to Georgia – meeting with church leaders to explore the interest and commitment to a graduate level program [MA through Bakke Graduate University] here.  The three men couldn’t have been different, in temperament, perspective, and presentation.  Jim Herrington commenced by explaining that we were here in response to consistent interested expressed by Georgian (evangelical) church leaders for some serious, consistent training.  That training could be provided through an MA course of study, originally crafted for Central Asia, then for use in Krasnodar, but now ready to be implemented in Georgia.  He distributed a one-page which provided an overview of about 10 courses that would fill out a 3 year course of study toward an accredited M.A. degree, noting that Dr. David Staff would be the professor of record and oversee the program.  

Jim then distributed copies of the syllabus I had prepared for the LDR 607 Servant Leadership, Character, and Ethics course, just one course offering from the program, and asked me to speak both to the way these courses would be taught, and how the study and writing requirements of the course would be handled.  The men listened respectfully, with interest.

Since everything needed translation back and forth between English, Russian, and Georgian, everything shared took longer.  Nonetheless, we made good progress, and took a break for lunch.  Gia, Gogah served everyone well with bread, meat, cheese, and melon slices.  After lunch, time was taken to ask and answer questions, and to discuss where these classes might be held.  As I sat listening to the exchanges, I was receiving a graduate level course in nuances, European body-language and leveraging, and good natured humor. 

By 3:00 PM, most relevant questions were exhausted, and the men, who traveled between 1-2 hours to come, needed to return home.  We spent our final minutes in prayer – Georgian, English, Russian…men sometimes with great differences, even as Christian brothers, now bowing together and praying for God’s presence and blessing on the prospect of this training program, for the students God would draw into it, and for the flourishing of the Georgian church.   

What a treasure to be here.  I am learning so much from simply seeing how Jim H. and Tim S. handle what can be some complicated and nuanced discussions, yet all with Christ in view.

Tonight, dinner’s on me…[Could somebody let our church treasurer know!?]