Help Wanted: Professional Christians

I have recently been introduced to the concept of a "professional Christian". On first blush it sounded like some new frontier in job growth. I thought about how wonderful it sounded and how well I was suited for such a position. I have a degree from seminary, I go to church all the time, so where could I sign up? But upon further explanation I realized I was already quite familiar with the concept if not the vernacular. The term "professional Christian" is not on its face either endearing or derogatory. It is what it claims to be. The term refers to a person that has been in church for so long that they know the pace and language by heart, without having to think about the proper response, or search themselves in anticipation of what comes next. It is that man or woman that recites in their sleep the steps of service, the length of the message, the timing of the prayers and the gait of the ushers. This is not necessarily a decay inside of the church, but it does lend itself to complacency if not kept in check. So it was with that definition in mind that I consider myself a professional Christian. But as I pondered the term I wondered about the flip side. Was there group that exemplified amateur Christians? What was it about them that deserved the descriptor of amateur? Did they strive to be professional like myself, or were they happy in their place? And worst of all, could only they qualify for the US Olympic Team? Who exactly is the amateur Christian? This is the man or woman, boy or girl who perhaps slips into church unsure of how he or she will be received by the gathered masses. This person might have only just come to know Jesus, and to their dismay knows none of the well-worn songs blasted in giant letters on the screen above and sung rhythmically if not always passionately by the professionals. When time for offering comes, this amateur tepidly takes the plate and passes it, thinking that the others may judge her for putting too little in, and therefore resigns from offering anything. During the message this amateur listens intently, hearing for the first time the wonders and joys of his Lord that the others around him have heard on multiple previous occasions. The amateur cares not for the time, and in fact forgot to bring a watch, caring only that this new life changing relationship is nurtured. Then the time comes for prayer. The amateur does not want to be seen out of step, and bows her head with the rest of the congregation. But as the pastor prays, she peeks up with a single open eye to make sure she is doing the right thing. That is when the amateur is calmed by the silent voice inside her heart. She puts her head back down and realizes that there are only two people in the building now. It is her and her Lord, and she is talking to him as a curious child to her loving parent. Offering praise and petition as best she knows how, ignorant of the correct Christianeese in which to frame it, but equally joyous that she is bringing it to the feet of the Most High. Prayer ends and the amateur has lingered too long, her head bobbing up several seconds after the professionals. But the amateur does not care. His heart has been renewed, and as the congregation is dismissed, several minutes later than usual to the dismay of some of the professionals. The amateur marvels at how all the others have come to learn the things they have. Will he ever be professional like them? Will he ever know all the words, all the timing, all the language to mingle with the professionals? If her heart remains open, her spirit joyous, her relationship with the Most High her most important asset, then yes, may she one day be as professional as the others. But if the weight and complacency of being among the elite strangles her true desire, kills her want and worship of the Lord, then may it never be. Remaining a rank amateur would be a much more praiseworthy.

A Tribute To Pastor Charlie Chilton

The sad news came late Wednesday evening in the modern form. Online social sights, phone calls and even text messages revealed that our longtime pastor, and the man who married my wife and I, Charlie Chilton, had passed away after a significant battle with cancer. The news wasn't unexpected, but still difficult to accept, as is often reality. The outpouring of memories and condolences spread just as fast across the little corner of the internet that knew this man. So what else could be said that hasn't already been expressed in one form or another? The lives that this man of God touched were not segregated only to the communities in northern Virginia that he most recently called home, but throughout the world, to far corners that many of us will never see with our own eyes. Pastor Charlie, as he had affectionately become known, was a church planter, and he had a longtime connection with the people of the Philippines. With this in mind I revel in one of my fondest memories of this man. On a brisk April Day in Washington, DC my wife and I were invited to hear Pastor Charlie guest preach at a local church on Wisconsin Avenue. This was well after our wedding, and we had not been blessed to hear him speak in some time, so we pounced at the chance to visit with him again. But we knew from the onset that this would be no ordinary sermon. Pastor Charlie was going to preach to a Pilipino congregation, and he was going perform the service in Tagalog, a native language of these people of which he was fluent. This was my first foreign language service (though not my last) and I was curious if my ignorance of the words spoken would cause my attention to slip. My wife and I settled into a pew halfway into the church and watched our mentor take the pulpit. We surveyed the sanctuary to find that we were most likely the only ones in the modest congregation that did not speak Tagalog. But soon we knew that the language barrier did not matter. Pastor Charlie preached words of truth with passion and authority that were foreign to our ears. We understood almost nothing. But listening to his voice and watching the reaction of the people there was no doubt about the message he was spreading. The truth of Christ was being spoken that day if only in a slightly different form than we were used to and my wife and I understood the beating heart of truth if not each syllable in which it was packaged. There was no grand revelation of a foreign language as brought to us by some mystical power. There was simply the knowledge and peace that the truth of the Lord Jesus Christ was ringing forth and the people in this small sanctuary were receiving and praising. There is no translation needed for that. That would be the last sermon we ever heard from Pastor Charlie and it was an honor to be included. I will most likely never become fluent in Tagalog, nor ever hear a message in that language again, but I do not consider what I heard that day to be a waste. I was forced to hear that sermon with my heart, ignoring my more common senses, and I was blessed by the Lord. It was a great gift. On April 19, 1951, in his farewell address to congress, General Douglas MacArthur said the following: I still remember the refrain of one of the most popular barrack ballads of that day which proclaimed most proudly that "old soldiers never die; they just fade away." And like the old soldier of that ballad, I now close my military career and just fade away, an old soldier who tried to do his duty as God gave him the light to see that duty. Pastor Charlie was blessed both with the light to see his duty and the chance to spread that light over all of God's creation. But unlike General MacArthur's declaration, the Christian does die, however briefly, but will live eternally with Christ in Glory. That is where Pastor Charlie rests today, his accomplishments for the Kingdom never to fade away, his face cradled by the Lord of Lords, hearing the refrain "Well done, good and faithful servant."

Who Among You Is Holy?

Can man be holy? Some would scoff at the suggestion saying that only God is holy. Others would insist that man can be holy because God is holy. There are even those that would suggest that man cannot be holy and only woman can be holy. The third group misses the point. Looking around the world at the depravity and desecration that takes place on a moment-to-moment basis would leave even the staunchest believer quivering at the thought of naming any individual holy. From churches high in the mountains of distant lands to bars buried in the swamps of the lowlands there is a common denominator. All those creatures that inhabit those places, those flesh wrapped stumbling masses that think themselves behemoths on this planet but are mere specks on a hurtling globe, they are all scarred by the remnants of a plague that hit many thousands of years ago. That plague was brought on by this very creatures actions and has the common name of sin. Certainly man has given it other names to try and take the edge off. But the fact still remains that it marks us all and there is nothing we can do to remove it. But then we come to Christ, and he washes that sin away by His power, right? That is true, but does that really give us reason to consider ourselves holy? Well, it depends on how you view holiness. Is the characteristic of that most blessed adjective one that elevates us to God-like status and gives us carte blanche over the rest of creation? If that is your definition of holiness, then without doubt not a single person can be holy. But what about viewing holiness in another light. What if holiness when applied to man speaks not of the works or actions of that man, but of the impartation of characteristics given by a superior God? What if holiness is belonging to God and living in obedience to him? What if holiness means being set apart by God's power and glory? Can man then be considered holy? The answer can be answered most affirmatively and negatively yet does not relay a paradox.

We can be holy as the Israelites were holy.

The Israelites were set apart by God and were in covenant with God, showing his power over them as well as their uniqueness in His eyes. This is much as the Christian today enters into covenant with God upon accepting Jesus and showing belonging to that God through the work of Jesus. For both the Israelite and modern day Christian, this covenant then begins a relationship of obedience and dedication to that same God. So yes, many today can be considered holy. But make no mistake that no man, no matter how perfect they may seem, no matter how reverent they may become, can never match the holiness when measured against God. The slippery slope of believing one to be near equal to God is traveled when any person believes themselves to gain near God-like status. A myriad of cults and religions throughout time have shown us the outcome of such belief. The more the person believes themselves to be God-like, the harder reality hits them when they fall. There is a uniqueness to God that will never be matched. We should all shout for joy that it can never be matched. So be holy if you are holy. Just remember how you got that way.

From Here You Can See God

I have heard many complain that if only they could climb a little farther they could finally reach God and look him in the eyes. They became angry that when they look up towards the top of the mountain He is nowhere to be found. I never understood their anguish. All I needed was to look down over the expanse of earth below to see Him clearly. - Anonymous Sherpa climber of Mount Everest, 1947 What if we could climb to the top of a mountain to visit God? Or what if we could take a boat out to some remote island where God lived and spend a day with Him? Would we be more comforted that we knew where to find him? Many people feel that if only they knew where God was and could go greet him, they would be more settled in their hearts. They believe that Seeing God face to face, no matter where they had to travel to do it, would ease their uncertainty and calm their fears. They could ask him any question they wanted and he would answer. They would go on their way with their answer blissful in the knowledge that if ever they needed anything else from God, they would know exactly where they left him. But God didn't do that, and for very good reason. If we had to tramp across half the globe to dizzying heights to find Him then His accessibility would be questionable. How easy it is for you to take a quick trip up Mount Everest? Or a little boat ride into the middle of the ocean? I suspect not easy at all. But where God can be found is no more difficult than walking to your front door. For God is accessible to you right now, where you are, no matter if it is in the bright sunshine of day on the beach or the darkness of a dungeon pit. You don't even have to move to meet Him. He is already there waiting to talk to you.

So stop trying to climb the mountain or sail the seas to find God. Just turn your head slightly to the right. See? He's been waiting for you there all along.

Is Your Bible Useless?

Is your bible useless? Is it glorious and leather-bound, the sun gleaming off the gold-tinged edges of the meticulously crafted piece as it sits proudly on the bookshelf? Or does the paperback edition you received as a young child still hold fond memories of being clutched in Sunday school as it lay pristine and weighted down by the forces of gravity in the corner of some far off room? Do the thin pages of your New Testament still cling to each other as a brand new volume even though you purchased it over five years ago? Does the bible app you downloaded last month still serve only to consume memory on your device that could be better utilized for shopping or sports apps? Does the cover of your bible seem to be made of the heaviest of metals, daring you to open it, revealing that you don't have the strength or desire? Or is your bible worth more to you than any possessions of which your deepest desires could conceive? Does your bible look ragged and unkempt, tortured by years of use as your fingers fumbled through the pages in your time of need? Does your bible scream back at you with notations and revelations that blared at you in the quiet of the night as you searched for answers. Does it bear the scars of nights on your knees and days gone by that longed for solace? Have your internet searches for different bible translations brought you to the precipice of languages long forgotten and never before seen by your eyes? Is your bible light as air, waiting for even the quietest of wishes to be flung open and reveal the deepest truth? So, is your bible useless?

Grace

By reason we know ourselves to be greater than the creatures of the earth. By love we know ourselves also more compassionate. But only by grace do we see the Creator's sovereignty with both and our mastery over neither. - Clara Hornsworth, 1941 At the height of the Great Depression on a small farm in the middle of Iowa, Clara Hornsworth dreamed of building a veterinary business. Her youth raised around all types of animals gave her an insight that she believed lent to such a calling. But at the time such a profession for a young woman was considered irregular. But that did not stop Clara. For the rest of her life she strived towards her dream, not swayed by the naysayers of her day. Her deep faith and love for her desired profession drove her in her studies and ultimately to go into practice for herself. But life was not kind to Clara. At the dawn of the second world war she suffered from tuberculosis, a disease that not only attacked her body but consumed what little wealth she had. She would die only a few weeks after her only brother was killed at Pearl Harbor. Yet

this story is not of tragedy but of triumph. Upon her death the only possession she had was a small bible. Inside that bible was the above inscription. Next to it, underlined several times, was this statement, presumably the last she ever wrote: "I am near to meet God and I finally understand Him. I would not give up my trials on this earth for all the glories that same has to offer. In His hands I have been given a grace that I could not repay in five lifetimes. That is most precious to me." Clara was given true sight to see in the midst of her personal struggles. Do we also experience that joy in ours?