Sometimes miracles are so ordinary you almost miss them

In thirty-three years of ministry I haven't seen a lot of “miracles” as Pentecostals rate them (and I only mention them because, well, I am one). While I have prayed hundreds of time for healing I have seen but a few but even those were nothing to write home to Charisma magazine about. While I have prayed several times for people who were “demonized” to be set free, only once have I seen “it” happen in front of me. Having said that this exorcism would have never made the director's cut of The Exorcist because it was so pedestrian (and yet so real). A friend of mine and I were having coffee this morning and he mentioned a mutual acquaintance of ours (and a fellow Pentecostal) who once boasted that he had performed all the miracles Jesus ever did at least once. If that's so that's some resume. But that has not been my experience here. Our supernatural aspirations to the contrary, Refuge seems to run on a much lower octane.

But last Tuesday night I was reminded quite clearly that God was in our midst and working supernaturally among us. A week ago tonight it was Christmas Eve and like a lot of fellowships we host a candlelight service that includes the singing of traditional carols. In addition, I have created a liturgy of sorts that involves the reading of a dozen passages of Scripture from Genesis to Revelation. Before the service begins I always ask for volunteers to read and without fail participants young and old raise their hands to help out. When asking for someone to read Luke 2:8-20, Dylan's second-grade daughter, Presly, raised her hand. I simply looked at Dylan and said, “All right, Dad, you're in the bullpen just in case.”

Dylan is new to us. I met him on the “inside” as part of my ministry as a chaplain at the Barron County Jail. This past spring he came to Jesus while incarcerated at the jail and a week or so later kneeled on the carpet of Classroom 2 and was baptized. When he was released in May he had to serve additional time on the monitor but per the conditions of his release he faithfully attended both our Sunday morning gatherings and our Saturday evening Life Recovery Group that he and his brother, also a former inmate, had begun.

Dylan on his baptism day

In October, when he was finally off the monitor he asked to bebaptized again as this time he wanted to do it in front of his daughters. And so in late October after the service began, he and his girls, my wife and I and a few other close friends of his jumped in our vehicles and drove to City Beach and livestreamed his baptism to the sanctuary back at Refuge. There's a memory for you!

Since his release he has been mentored by a few Christian guys and myself. He's a drummer so every fourth Sunday when I lead worship he assists me in that. And he has been intentional in bringing his two daughters to worship with him.

And so on Christmas Eve they were with him again, perhaps their first Christmas Eve spent in any church. The sanctuary lights were off. We had been singing and reading Scripture for some time and finally we arrived at Luke Chapter 2 verse 8 and I heard Dylan's voice begin to read about the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night. In my mind I thought, 'Too bad. She chickened out.' But no, they had a plan. Because at the paragraph break, Presly's voice began to read about the angels' song and Glory to God in the highest. Then Dylan read again about the shepherds running to see the child. And finally Prestly read again of Mary reflecting and pondering all that she had heard.

It was somewhere in the reading of this passage it dawned on me: God is real and the evidence is sitting in the third row reading about the angels appearing to lowly shepherds and announcing the news of Jesus' birth. Dylan's year began with not a clue about God or a desire to follow him. But in the wintertime he was arrested and with the encouragement of his brother began to sign up for programming. That's when he heard the Gospel from Duane, one of the other volunteer chaplains. That's where he surrendered his life to Jesus and submitted to his first baptism. And since that time he has been walking out his faith in fits and starts like everyone else. And how is his year ending? Sitting in a darkened sanctuary reading by candlelight a part of the Christmas story from Luke 2 along with his second-grade daughter. Talk about a 180! That, by any definition, is miraculous and testimony of what God is able to do when humans submit themselves to the Lord who loves them and gave himself for them.

Dylan is only thirty-two and his new life in Christ has just begun. We all know that there will be seasons of challenge ahead of him just like anyone else. But for one hour on Christmas Eve it was wonderful to be reminded that God is real and Jesus not only was born in Bethlehem but grew up and later died on the cross outside of Jerusalem only to be resurrected three days later. He lives now forevermore seeking all those who are lost and in need of saving.

Hosea's One Message

 “The word of the Lord that came to Hosea son of Beeri during the
reigns of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz and Hezekiah, kings of Judah, and during the reign of Jeroboam son of Jehoash king of Israel” Hosea 1:1, NIV

I've recently begun my devotions in the book of Hosea. After reading what is often referred to by commentators as the “superscript” (1:1) I was struck by the phrase that begins the verse - “The word of the LORD”.

It made me think of something Leif Peterson, Eugene H. Peterson's son, wrote in the Commemorative Edition of A Long Obedience in the Same Direction printed after his father's passing in 2018:

“When I was in high school I used to joke with my dad that he only had one sermon. And although it was a joke between us, I believed then, as I do now, that it is largely accurate. My dad had one message.”

So right at the beginning of this collection of sermons the editor – or Hosea himself – is telling us that all that we read over the next fourteen chapters is “the word of the LORD” that came to him during his 30-plus years of preaching. Its his “one message.”

Of course, we mostly remember him for the audacious thing he was asked to do. I prefer the Message version for its bluntness:

“Find a whore and marry her.
    Make this whore the mother of your children.
And here’s why: This whole country
    has become a whorehouse, unfaithful to me, God.” (1:2, The Message)

And later, when she went back to turning tricks again, he was commanded to go out and “buy her back” from whatever legal hole she had dug for herself. All of this and the words that would come out of a broken heart become Hosea's one message: God loves us always, he's faithful to us even when we are unfaithful to him and he pursues us relentlessly.

Over three decades Hosea ministered, preached, exhorted, and plead with the people of God to turn and return to their first love. During the course of his preaching he used similes and metaphors galore referring to Israel at different times as an adulterous wife, a stubborn heifer, a wild donkey, and a senseless dove, to name four. Nothing he said let alone did seemed to have an effect on their determination to live badly. And before he died scholars contend that he sought refuge in the southern kingdom of Judah as the northern kingdom came to an end by the ruthless hands of the Assyrians as its citizens were scattered to the winds.

Of course by that standard one could say that all the prophets of the Bible – both the “major” and the “minor” ones - ultimately failed in their calling to warn and, if possible, provoke Israel's wanton heart back into loving submission to her husband, Yahweh. For all their elocution, their fantastic use of language as well as the unusual and peculiar things they were tasked, at times, to do, the people still chose to reject the word of the Lord.

I, too, am now in my third decade of ministry. Since receiving the
call to serve The Refuge, six presidents have served our country – George H.W. Bush, Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, Barak Obama, Donald Trump, Joe Biden and soon, Donald Trump for the second time. During that same period, America has fought over 20 of those years in the Middle East, has endured the crisis of 9/11, the banking crisis of 2008 and the pandemic of 2020. I don't know how later generations will judge my effectiveness – let alone the thousands of other servants of the Lord who have served during this same period of time. Will they say we failed to capture America's fleeting attention? Will they say we accommodated too much to the growing secular culture? Thirty-three years later is Chetek, Wisconsin better for my and my family living and serving here? Has the cause of God's kingdom been furthered because of my preaching and teaching here? Of course, I'd like to say yes but who can really say?

As I have kept tabs, over thirty-three years of ministry I have preached 1,136 Sunday morning messages from 63 of the 66 books of Scripture (I have yet to preach a single message from Obadiah, Micah and, as it happens, Hosea). That's a lot of words, a lot of times sitting at this same desk pounding out an outline that hopefully will rouse some sleepwalking disciples awake or persuade a prodigal to give it up and come back home. In the end what will they say of me? What will they say that my “one message” was?

For the last twenty years I have been a volunteer chaplain at the Barron County Jail and if that ministry has taught me anything is that I don't control outcomes. The ground is hard and many of the guys have fleeting moments of clarity that once on the street yield to old thought patterns and behaviors. But regardless of my audience be they “inside” or “outside” the same can occur: they hear the messages I preach and share, and watch my life and how I live it and at the end of the day still decide, “No thank you” and go the way they feel best.

Let me write something that all stewards of the Word know: faithfulness matters; loyalty matters; commitment matters. Hosea was faithful to the call God gave him crazy as it was. Even though the phrase had not been coined yet I think he would agree with what a later apostle wrote about his ministry: “I have finished my race.” I have long ago let go of the expectations I once had for my ministry here when I first began. It's all kind of fuzzy now but it had something to do with growing a big and influential ministry that would grab the attention of the world. Yeah. Ultimately, regardless of the outcome – fame or notoriety, distinction or disappointment - I pray to be just as faithful to the task as Hosea was until I preach my last message here and say Amen.

Shhhh. Hush now and listen as He speaks to us.

“And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.

And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.

 And all they that heard it wondered at those things which                                                             were told them by the shepherds.

                                                            But Mary kept all these things,                                                             and pondered them in her                             heart.”

                                                        Luke 2:16-19, KJV

Every year for a couple of decades now I have had the honor to lead
the annual candlelight service held on the First Sunday in Advent at the Friends of Wiesner Community Chapel (at Hungry Hollow). Back in the early 2000s the Friends renovated this former Methodist church that at that time was located on Hwy V west of Rice Lake and returned it to its former glory complete with working pump organ and pot-bellied stove for indoor heat. It is used periodically now for weddings, funerals and other community events such as the candlelight service.

This year when they reached out to me to make sure I would lead the gathering they had a request: to try and make it “an old fashioned Christmas” event. When I asked what they meant by that two things were mentioned: that I would read the Christmas story from Luke chapter 2 in the King James Version and that I would sing “Away in the Manger” using the Traditional set by James R Murray as opposed to the Cradle version by William J Kirkpatrick (both were 19^th century composers of Christian music but Murray's version of this beloved hymn is more widely known).

I haven't read nor preached from the KJV since the 1980s although it was the version I cut my teeth on as it were. I'm more of a contemporary Bible translation guy as I like to make the Story of stories street-wise and hear-er friendly. But I was happy to accommodate them. And while I have come to love Kirkpatrick's version of “Away in the Manger” far more I know both ways to sing it so it wasn't a big deal for me.

The chapel was nearly full and the room was slowly warming as more bodies filled the place (ever since Chester, the original caretaker of the chapel, has passed away they seldom light the pot-bellied stove but rely on electric baseboard heat to do the job). We opened with some announcements, a song, a sharing of peace and then, on cue, I read the words from the Gospel of Luke that share the story of Jesus' nativity.

It's a well-known story for me. Like a lot of people, growing up our family had certain Advent traditions that we observed among them the lighting of the Advent Candle every night leading up to Christmas Eve. Usually on December 1, Mom or Dad would read Clement Moore's beloved 'Twas the Night Before Christmas and when the “1” was completely gone we would pray “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep” and then they would blow it out. Every night during December this practice was repeated with a different Christmas story each evening. But without fail, on December 24, before we climbed into our station wagon to head to my grandparents' home for dinner, Dad would pull out his Bible and read the Story again from Luke 2. Upon finishing it one of us would blow out the candle and officially Christmas was now here.

As I began to read the words from Luke this past Sunday night a curious thing happened: a stillness settled upon the congregation as I read the ancient words. This wasn't polite silence offered a minister as he read from the Book. No. This was alertness as if God was really speaking (of course, he was!) This was a holy silence of reverence. People much older than I am now were being transported back to when the Story was fresh and new and were hearing it once again. Not for the first time, of course, but maybe it was like a marker on a trail that says “You are here. Jesus is born in a stable tonight because the inn is full. For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.”

Most Sundays of the year I preach a message from the Bible at the church I serve. Sometimes its from the Old Testament more often than not its from the New. The people of The Refuge are great folk but the sanctuary can often be a busy place on Sunday mornings. We have littles moving around and giggling, sometimes teens chatting quietly to themselves in the back, folks getting up to use the facilities downstairs and pushing the door in the sanctuary as they make their exit that reminds us for the upteenth time really needs to be oiled. All that to say that when I read the Scriptures on Sunday morning at Refuge I have a lot other background noise to compete with. But that Sunday night at the Friends of Wiesner Community Chapel it was pin-drop silence as I slowly read Luke's account of the Nativity from the Authorized Version.

It's the kind of silence you don't want to rush from as God's presence

has suddenly come near. You want to linger there and soak it up a bit as whatever words I add to it by means of commentary and reflection may unintentionally diffuse that poignant moment of attention. It was beautiful. The rest of the service was good too as we sang the story to God and to one another by candlelight – Angels We Have Heard on High, It Came Upon A Midnight Clear and, of course, Silent Night. But that pregnant pause that came upon us as I read from Luke prior to worshiping I like to think was a reminder to all of us that God has come near to us in Jesus and, as John put it in his Gospel, “...the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth” (John 1:14, KJV).