2012: Come Lord Jesus

It is the first day of 2012. I have no resolutions; I do plan to “keep on keeping on until I can’t and then I am going to die and go to heaven.” That was a quip I often gave when I was a young man, long before my close encounter with cancer.  I do plan to write more and to lose more weight.

Tonight, I offer a summary my sermon from this morning.

My text was Revelation 22:8-21, the closing verses of the Bible.  The theme was coming together with Christ.  There are two references to the nearness of Christ’s return and multiple invitations for people to come to Christ and one challenge for the “hearers” to say “come.”

We are all moving into the future; what we may not understand is that the future in rushing in upon us. The Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End is coming for us. Many people have a passive approach to the future. They live as though the future is a void needing to be filled.

Some live as though they are backing into the future; their focus is on the past. Either a crisis of pain and disappointment consumes their outward focus or they have romanticized the good times of the past having convinced themselves things could never be as good as they once were.

The future is dynamic; we move into it and it moves toward us. For all who are in Christ, it is as if He has risen from His throne and He is running toward us. His hands are not empty; He comes with gifts: everlasting life, the City of God, and His righteous reign over all of Creation.  He is coming to be with us, to tabernacle among us.

We are running toward Him, at least we should be. His embrace should be the focal point of our hopeful imaginations. Let us run toward Him with gifts in our hands, the gifts He has requested: our lives, our worship, our service in His name. Coming together with our Lord should be the center of our existence.

And so we say “come quickly, Lord Jesus. Bring the fullness of your Kingdom and should you tarry, come to us in our times of trouble and our seasons of joy. Come, be present with us until that day of your final appearance.” Let all who have the hope of His appearance say “come.”

Another Poem

The Atonement


He stepped out of His glory

And wrapped Himself in darkness

The Creator became the created

The Eternal conceived as mortal

He who knew no sin, became sin

For our sakes, love, grace and truth

Embraced all our bitterness

Bound up our brokenness

And healed all our diseases

Some would limit the atonement

In its history and in its effect

To the cross as seat of judgment

And the predestined elect

They would bury our transgressions

In a moment of confessions

And His foreknown pronouncement

The chosen decreed as innocent

But His propitiation

Brackets the incarnation

Fully God and fully man

Salvation without end

And its effect on all creation

Every tribe, every nation

The claim of His grace

Rests on all the human race

Yes, our sentence was commuted

His righteousness imputed

But His purpose was much greater

Full communion with our Creator

With pardon came renewal

Freedom from sin’s rule

Yes, full redemption

Holiness imparted

Entire sanctification

A new order of creation

November 2011

I have release a collection of my poems.  You may purchase a copy at https://www.createspace.com/3723678   All profit will go to the New Covenant Church of God building fund.

A New Poem

Into Your Presence

In the cool of the day,

I run into Your presence

In the garden of Your Word.

Hungry for Your touch, Your face

Your will, Your warm embrace.

There I quiet my spirit

And listen for Your voice

Echoing through those ancient books

Scribed by human hands.

Both eternal and created,

Word of God born in thoughts of men.

More than a window into the heavens

Or a relic of the past,

The Spirit hums across the pages,

Grace and Truth for all the ages.

Love beyond imagination 

Wed to human communication.

Mysteries hidden from the angels

Written in the lyrics of mere mortals.

In the whole and in each part

Intoning Your very heart

Every syllable a revelation

Alpha and Omega within creation.

JDJ

10/31/2011

Agony and Ecstasy

Life is rich, full, and uncertain.  When this year began I wrote about being committed to a year of writing; I have written almost nothing.  I was diagnosed with cancer on February 25 followed by surgery on February 28.  My third grandchild (Tegan Smith) was born on March 3 and I drove to Wheaton, Illinois on April 4 to meet her (one week after surgery).  A tornado ripped through our place on Wednesday, April 27.  Our beautiful trees were leveled, but we had little damage to the house.  The barn roof had to be replaced. (I bought a new chain saw but still have dozens of trees that need removal.)  Later in the spring we had torrential rains and our basement flooded.  We also had 24 hours of record rainfall in early September and it flooded again.  (Our plans are to have French drains installed soon.)  In late July two of our professors accepted positions at another school and I was asked to pick up a couple of their classes.  I am enjoying teaching Historical Theology with Sang-Ehil Han as it was my focus area in my doctoral program, but it is a new preparation. In short, my dreams for this year have been supplanted by the agony of the unexpected and the ecstasy of survival.

And, I forgot to mention the water line in our front yard ruptured and I replaced it last month.

Hungry for Life

Cheryl decided this summer we should do the "Body for Life" program. I agreed to tag along on the meal portion of the program, but I made no promises on the exercise component. [To be fair with myself -- as if I would not be -- I was over worked with storm damage yet to be cleaned and still low on energy from my surgery.]

I said "tag along" because I made it clear I wasn't going to be legalistic about the meal plans, I would exercise my way and I wasn't going to put any effort into learning the program.

As best as I can figure it, the meal plan is simple. First, cut out or at least way down on the breads and other carbohydrates. I am not always certain what carbohydrates are, so I just assume they are the things I really like and I only eat them when Cheryl is not around.. Second, eat more protein and eat it six times a day. That translates into a protein snack mid-morning, mid-afternoon, and evenings. Third, eat much smaller portions for regular meals. Fourth, there is only one regular meal a day, lunch. She says I should think of three servings for lunch, each the size of my fist: one meat, one green vegetable, and one of whatever else she wants.

I'm not one to complain -- much -- but it does seem to my eyes she measures by the size of her fist, not mine.

Giving up cereal for breakfast has not been hard. I enjoy my egg, coffee, and half piece of toast (with homemade jelly) with her in the mornings. We are now having breakfast together most days.

Our mid-morning snack is usually half each of a protein bar. I bought them in bulk online at about half price. They remind me of a candy bar. The kind you might get in a  remote village in the so-called two-thirds world where they haven't discovered processed sugar or real chocolate. After two months of their pleasure I can honestly say they are not half bad, but Cheryl seems to get that half. Occasionally I sneak a more commercial (think they have flavor) breakfast bar.

Most evenings we have a protein smoothie. We blend a protein shake (bought in bulk online) with some yogurt and ice. They taste (chocolate or vanilla) like a a milk shake you might get in that same impoverished village. I end the day with a spoon full, as in all you can cram onto a tablespoon, of peanut butter.

This simulation of the mess hall in a POW camp has been going on for about seven weeks and I have lost fifteen pounds. It’s working and so I have given myself to some deep philosophical reflection.

I have renamed the program "Hungry for Life." This double entendre speaks to a revised relationship with the condition of physical hunger and a desire to live life to the fullest.

I have adopted the mantra "hunger is our friend." This came to me as I wrestled with that demon of culinary desire. I was over weight (235 pounds, I think my Wii said "grossly obese.") because I had developed a wrong attitude about hunger.

For most of my adult life hunger was an enemy to be conquered.  Three or four times a day I beat the stuffing out of it.  Sometimes I gave it a good wailing even before it shook off the last beating.  But it was invincible, the Rocky Balboa of appetites.  There it was every morning ready for a few more rounds, not even bruised by the pounding I had given it the day before. 

The thought came to me as I lingered over my half of a protein bar, “hunger is my friend.”  Perhaps I was in a delusional state induced by malnutrition but it seemed all so clear.

Hunger spoke to me, “You are alive; you can feel, and you are losing weight.  As long as you have that slight sensation of emptiness in your stomach you are the master of food.” 

As I struggled to affirm my sanity I did what all preachers do, I spiritualized and formed a sermon illustration.  Hunger is nothing more than a God given desire, a necessary impulse for survival.  It is only when covetous sin entwines itself with our created nature that this inner voice of life begins to lust for more than it needs.  It is not hunger that makes people obese; it is unbridled lust for pleasure.  Somebody say “Amen.”

I now confess, I am not entirely sanctified.  The old man with his longings for processed sugar and french fries is not dead.  My hunger is a tainted and fickle friend. Cheryl brought pizza before me last night and I shamelessly consumed my fill. [“Oh, the woman that Thou gavest me.”]  I conclude that I may never in this life have a body for living, but I shall always be hungry for life.

I failed to mention we get one free day a week. I think it is like "eternal weight loss, once a dieter always a dieter, you've got to eat a little bit every day." And with selective memory that day of indulgence can show up at any time.

The Value of Life

The storm continues to impact our lives almost three weeks after the winds ceased.  Downed trees had isolated four of our cows for three days after the storm.  I noticed them eating the leaves and thought little of it.  They had water and they were eating, everything should be Okay until I could cut a path for them.

Last Wednesday, two weeks after the tornadoes tore through our community, I came home and walked out to check on my cows.  I found one down, obviously quite ill.  I brought her some water and feed.  She got up and drank several gallons, but ate nothing.  It was dark by the time I got her quarantined from the other cows.  The next morning she was unable to get on her feet.  I concluded I would have to euthanize her that evening.  I came home at lunch and found her dead.  I was relieved; it grieves me to kill an animal. 

The questions lingered, what killed the cow?  Was it contagious?  I had searched my books and researched on line, but I couldn’t narrow it down.  It all happened so fast there was no time to get a veterinarian out to check on her.  Since I had so many downed trees to burn I opted to cremate her on Friday.  I used my tractor to drag a couple of logs out to the back side of my pasture.  As I approached the chosen site I noticed one of my cows lying down in the woods by herself.  I knew immediately she was one that had been corralled with the dead one and she was sick, very sick.

I gathered the wood and started the cremation process.  Then I came inside to call a Vet and do more research.  The Vet’s office informed me he probably would not make it out to my place for 24 hours.  I followed a hunch and googled "poison cattle feed."  “Cattle diseases” and similar phrases had not on the day before turned up anything consistent with the symptoms of the first cow.  Sure enough Oak acorns, bark and leaves are poisonous if consumed in large quantities.  The symptoms matched, and there was no treatment.

When I arose to go outside and rebuild the fire I witnessed a sobering scene.  The dead cow’s calf and another heifer, the two of which had been isolated with the dead cow when she got sick and I had therefore quarantined in the lot next to the fire, were lying down with their chins flat on the ground facing the fire where the cremation was in full force.

My mind flashed back to a childhood ritual.  I was perhaps seven and we were at my grandmother Johns’ to butcher a cow.  We were gathered at one end of her pasture with a pole tripod where the carcass would be hoisted for the initial dressing.  The rest of the herd had been corralled far away and completely out of sight.

I remember five things well from that day.  I remember the snap of the rifle and instant jerk of the cow down to her knees before she collapsed on her side.  I remember the force of the stream of blood when the throat was cut, pulsating with the final beats of the heart.  I remember the care with which my Dad and uncles made the incisions and dissections; great effort to not taint or contaminate the meat with unwanted substances.  And I remember the lingering, mournful bellows of the heard that began at the moment the rifle fired.  How did they know?  They had never to my knowledge bellowed at the simple sound of a gun.

Yesterday, in order to keep the bull away from the young heifer, I had to let the heifer and calf back into the section where the cremation took place.  I was astonished, but not surprised, as I watched the two bovines walk directly to the charred remnants of the cow, face the remains, bow their heads, and stand silently for ten minutes or longer.  Later they would lie, chins down, in the exact same spot.

I was surprised last evening when I led our two horses into the same section of grass.  They too walked straight to the cremation site, turned to face the remnants, bowed their heads, and stood silently for several minutes before beginning their grazing.  They had been far removed from the cremation three days earlier.

I cannot explain these patterns of animal behavior.  At the risk of anthropomorphisms, I must confess they speak loudly to me of the value of life and of the force that ties all living creatures together.  All that is is held together and connected by the Spirit of God.  All breath has its origin in the nostrils of God.

It is not my purpose to offer an apology for the vegans among us.  I eat meat and I plan to continue enjoying it for a long time.  Instead, I find in the reverence for life sometimes evidenced in the world of animals a call to truly give thanks at every meal.  All good things come from our heavenly Father, and those that nourish us come at a price higher than we can imagine.  Life in all its forms is the greatest of gifts.

My Response to the Rob Bell Controversy

Thursday, April 7, 2011


I have of course not written on this blog for a month. Instead, I have written about my experience with cancer on my Johns Family blog. You are welcome to go there to read my journal on the experience. A link appears in the column to the right. Needless to say, the surgery has proven a greater hindrance to writing than I imagined.

This week I received a note from a friend in the Pacific Northwest asking my opinion of the current Rob Bell controversy. He asked if I thought Bell represented the fruition of reason run amuck. I responded with the following (quickly constructed and unedited) comments.

I deeply appreciate your question and way you phrased it. I do not believe that reason inevitably leads to chaos. In my opinion, it is not reason that is at fault in post-modernity; it is the set of a priori assumptions to which reason is being applied. Postmodern thought builds on two faulty premises, one long-standing and the other only recently re-introduced. The longstanding error is belief that truth can be known in a vacuum. That is, the Hellenistic worldview assumes there always exists a gap between the knower and the known. Grounded in dualism, this myth ultimately removes truth from the material world, and makes reason the sole arbiter of truth, which in turn limits knowledge to the individual’s ability to reason. Knowledge and truth, while universal in essence, are always private in experience; only the individual can know that he or she knows.


The second faulty assumption is new to the “modern” world. It is a rejection of the longstanding belief that creation is a closed system. Twentieth century physics replaced the certainty of Newton’s Laws with the uncertainty of Einstein’s theory of relativity, which lead to thoughts of alternative time-lines, the collapse of space into time, and multiple dimensions of existence. The material world has an infinite number of possible expressions. And if that is true, then how diverse must spiritual truth be?


I realize I am painting in very broad strokes but it seems to me that post modernity boils down to the union of these two presuppositions, (1) truth can only be known by the individual, and (2) all truth is relative. When these two are brought together the results are the deification of the individual and the nullification of absolute truth (Adam and Eve all over again).


For me the answer lies in a more Biblical epistemology, one that understands all knowledge and truth as (1) being grounded in the Triune God, (2) relational in character (always personal/never private), (3) always constant, consistent, and therefore rational, but (4) also trans-rational [truth cannot be confined to reason alone making reason to not be the sole arbiter of truth].


I have not read Bell’s latest book. Therefore, I cannot comment on his specific views. The reviews I have read suggest he is merely lost in the relativity/uncertainty of post-modernity. The strength of his approach seems to be his willingness to look at hard questions thru the lens of the cultural realities of his generation. The weakness of his approach seems to be an unwillingness to accept and teach with certainty the Biblical answers to those questions.


I have probably strayed too far from your original question. In short, the problem with post-modernity is its predisposition to limit reason to the role of being a tool used to defend truth as a private matter (reason as justification for my brand of truth). To borrow a phrase from Francis Schaffer, post-modernity represents the Western World’s “escape from reason.” I don’t think Bell offers a valid model for reaching a post-modern world. He, and others in the emergent church, are correct in their assertion that it is not enough to ask the right questions with this rising generation; we must understand their epistemology which defines truth as that which is “real” rather than that which is “logical.” They are wrong in that they fail to honor the Word of God incarnated and the Word of God inscripturated as being both personal and objective (present in time and space). We, as Pentecostals, should be providing the answer for post-moderns, truth is found in the person of Jesus who is both real and logical. He is known through encounter and understood through reason.