It's a Heartbreak, Not A Headache

Earlier today, I read an update from Voice of the Martyrs, which is an organization that monitors the persecution of Christians around the world. It might surprise many who read this to learn that persecution of Christians is at levels not seen since the Romans ruled most of the known world. Men and women of faith are being tortured and killed simply because of their faith. As seen in two recent events, the slaughter of aid workers in Afghanistan, and the execution of 4 more Christian aid workers in Somalia, even in those cases where the Christians were actively working for the good of the people from whom their murderers came, the price they paid for loving their neighbor was their lives.

When I shared the post on Facebook earlier, I asked about how one could square the idea that one particular religion was "the religion of peace" with these actions. Maybe that's a valid question for those who practice that religion to ask. I certainly would were it true of Christianity. But by asking it, I don't think I helped any. So I removed the post.

Here's the deal for me. People like those who were slain are my heroes. I see them as people who in the most difficult conditions imaginable, and at great personal sacrifice, are spending (appropriate word I think) their lives loving God by serving His "least of these." I admire their courage and their choices. See I believe putting your faith in Jesus means "signing up" for a lifetime of of service to God through love for His people - all the people made in His image - for in every human being - black, white, yellow, red, brown, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, Unitarian, Mormon, rich, poor, young, old, American, Iranian, Russian, Chinese - every human being is made in the image of God and as such has worth beyond what we will ever see.

So when I saw that four people who had become followers of Jesus who were former Muslims, and as followers knew that their lives were to be given to Jesus to serve others - when I saw that they had been killed and their bodies left to rot "because Somalia has no cemeteries for infidels", it didn't make me mad - or give me a headache - it broke my heart. It broke my heart. So senseless. Such a waste. Such blind hatred.

For me, a small church pastor, on the backside of nowhere USA, who is doing everything he knows to do to see God work to form a community of faith that understands (even in the shadow of Eglin AFB) that real power is not found in our weapons, our technology,or in our capacity to return hate for hate, but through our fidelity to the One Who willingly gave His life so that people who would never measure up might have a chance at real freedom - for me - people like those martyred are part of my inspiration to keep going on those all too frequent days when I wonder whether or not to keep trying to see a community formed by the Spirit that "gets" what being a true follower of Jesus really means.

People like that inspire me, and their loss breaks my heart.

"He is no fool, who gives up what he cannot keep,to find that he can never lose." - Jim Elliot, martyred by the Auca indians.

"Today they will sever me from my physical head, but they cannot sever me from my spiritual head, Christ." ~Christopher Love, in a note to his wife before his execution

I can't let hate do what a sword cannot. To love Christ is to love my neighbor. So I am praying for the families of those who died, and for the souls of those who killed them.

Staying True To the Story

It really happened so quickly. One of the people on a pastors forum I belong to was sharing a prayer request for his senior pastor, David Plaster. Just went back and looked at the date of the prayer request - the 26th of February. What began as weakness in one leg that caused this pastor to be out a few weeks was first diagnosed as Acute Disseminated Encephalomyelitis (ADEM). Thoughts were that he'd recover but with some residual weakness or disability. 

Now he's dead at 59 having passed away March 6th.


From what my friend shared, this was a brilliant man - a former professor, (Diploma, University of Lyon, France , B.A., Grace College M.Div., Th.M., Grace Theological Seminary, Th.D., Dallas Theological Seminary) a consummate pastor (of Grace Brethren Church of Worthington (Columbus), Ohio at his death), a great husband, father, grandfather, and friend. My friend John said that he couldn't remember him ever getting less than a perfect score on any test he ever took. As the disease progressed he became paralyzed, and unable to recognize family or friends. They later pinned the cause down as JC virus with PML. There was no cure or treatment possible. He probably contracted it on a mission trip to Africa in November.


Towards the end, he was totally blind, frustrated at his inability to communicate to the point that tears were all that would come easily. On February 25th, the only words he said were "The Lord Is My Shepherd." On the 2nd John wrote " He's only able to say a few things like "temporary", "Holy Spirit", and "Trust God"."



Pray for his family: wife Ginny, children Rachelle, Rob and Andy, and his granddaughter Shelly.

He fought the good fight. He kept the faith. From the fledgling faith of an 8 year old child to the very end at 59, he followed Jesus.

Friends, I've seen many people die poorly, having veered off the plot of the narrative their life had been on until the last days, weeks, even years. David Plaster was apparently so close to His Lord and Savior that what function as words on a page for most Christians was light in the darkness for him. When the disease robbed him of everything he had learned, all that remained was what he had given away to God.

"The Lord Is My Shepherd." He didn't have to finish the verse. God handled that.


Beloved, if David Plaster was sitting across from you right now he'd beg you to cram as much time with Jesus into your life as you possibly can. Make every effort to secure your heart and mind against the coming storms. For when the troubles come, and your very life is being crushed out of you, don't you want to meet your Lord with His story on your heart? You are writing the story of your life with every thought and action. If you want to know the ending then you'd better live the narrative well.


Well done, Dr. David Plaster. Well done.

Yes I Do

Sunday I hope to see God working in the lives of people as they open their hearts and minds to the possibility that God wants to use us - yes, us. The whole "Blessed are..." leads into "You are salt... You are light..." where Jesus is explaining to those who have followed Him that we are NOT who society says were are, and we are NOT what our frailties and failures would mark us as. The Kingdom of Heaven has come and is coming, and the new reality is that we are who Jesus says we are.

This clip is from the movie "Kingdom of Heaven". The skeptic in the scene is ironically, a priest.

Why Can't We See?

I'm typing this on a Mac today. It's the first blog post I've ever typed on this quirky device that was gifted to me by a friend who felt my computer universe could use some expansion.

So in the past few weeks I have been diligently trying to make it work for me. Instead of... against me.

For the most part, I've succeeded, but there are still things it does and doesn't do that drive me nuts.

I know that if my friend, who has decades of experience with Macs were here, he would patiently instruct me in how to achieve my goals. But he's not. And even simple keyboard tasks can quickly escalate into war, and my decision to walk away for a while.

This morning I was thinking through some names. Names of people who were part of our fellowship for a while, but just walked away. It would be so easy to decide that it's all on them - they weren't committed, they didn't care enough, or even that they really didn't have a saving relationship with Jesus.

But what if...

they just didn't know how to make it work?

What is it about us that we can't even see that option?

And see it before their walk carries them too far away?

"Let's breathe"

What does it mean to be a believer?

Ann Lamont: I have a very pathetic and innocent relationship with Jesus. [The things] I’m sure about are the things the kids in church sing: that I’m loved and never alone. I am a complicated and worried person. To know that I can just say “hi” and “I am so lost,” and He says, “Hi, hon. No, you’re not. Let’s breathe. Get a glass of water. Do you want to call a friend?” Simple works for me. I love to read profound, theological, brilliant, stunning stuff that throws the lights on for me, and then I write about it so I can disseminate it. But I don’t have brilliant, theological thoughts. The difference my church makes is that I still get lost, but I find my way back sooner.

Relevant Magazine Article