An exercise in peripatetic prayer

This past Sunday we did “church” a little differently.

We gathered as we are wont to do at 10 am but after about 15 minutes we then dispersed. Some remained at Refuge to pray. Some went to Main Street Park in our city's central business district to pray and worship there. And some walked several streets in our city and prayed in key locations. The whole exercise took maybe an hour at which point we re-gathered at Main Street Park to debrief a little and close in prayer and worship there.

The idea for this gathering arose from one of our elders – Renee – who is also a member of what we refer to as the Connect group at Refuge. “Connect” is our missions group and its purpose is not only to encourage connection with the missionaries we support monthly but also to foster missional thinking in our fellowship. That is, missions isn't something that only the select few we refer to as missionaries do; we are all – or, supposed to be - on a mission. Granted, most of us are called to cross the street or hall to share the love of Jesus with another rather than relocate to, say, Africa. But the principle is the same: we are all sent.

My first image from my very first
time to Africa in 2012 was a Holstein cow

Renee is a real down-to-earth person. While she's partaken in a couple of mission trips in the past – once to Uganda, once to Pine Ridge Reservation (a third world country inside the US) – she's pretty much convinced that most people will never leave their comfort zone in the name of missions. It's expensive. It's inconvenient (you may have to burn through two weeks of vacation in order to go there). It's uncomfortable (eating food that you're not familiar with, living temporarily with those who speak English only as a second language). And it's stressful (going through security check-points, putting your shoes on and off, flying, feeling like a duck out of water). These are reasons to say, in so many words, “I'll be praying for ya” to those who do choose to go.

Sheryl, Renee and Randy from Uganda '12

Renee also knows, however, that whatever good we may do in, say, Africa or Mexico, it's what God does in us as we go that is the greater work. A lot of us who live here in northwest Wisconsin like living up here in the woods a long way away from “the Cities” (i.e., the Twin Cities) and Madison. But should we be so fortunate to travel to, say, Palanan on northern Luzon (Philippines), we return to “the Shire” when it's over yes, with a lot of pictures, a couple of new friends on Facebook and a few souvenirs but really with a larger view of the world than we previously had. And that is a very good thing.

Palanan '11

Even so, a lot of people will still pass on the opportunity to go for one reason or another. So Renee (and Monica, another member of Connect, and myself) thought why not offer a mini-missions experience without even leaving Chetek? This is how “DO”-Sunday came about. We began talking about this in May and by early June had perhaps 30 people signed up for it. But it's summertime, after all, and it is when people understandably take advantage of the weather and do something fun – like go to a Twins game or attend a grad party or simply do other things than attend church. All that to say only 18 people were on hand when the bell rang on Sunday morning at 10 am.

No time was wasted on lamenting who wasn't there. Rather, we were happy that 18 people wanted to give this exercise a go. We modified our game plan and in the end carried it out successfully. A few stayed and prayed. A few gathered at Main Street Park, worshiped and prayed. A few walked the streets praying as they went.

The "balloon brigade" at work

Four women from our fellowship who dubbed themselves the
“balloon brigade” came an hour earlier and inflated 50 balloons for either the prayer-walking teams to take or simply put on display at Main Street Park. While out and about with his daughters, Kale, our youth leader here at Refuge, picked up some Popsicles and distributed them to people they met at the beach – perfect on a day that the heat index was in the 100s. Mary and LeAnne, who were at Main Street Park, didn't like the fact that the prayer table was not near the sidewalk so mid-way through the intercession set called an audible and moved the table right up to the sidewalk. The rest of the hour they spent waving at all the cars passing by and were rewarded with a lot of thumb's up and friendly honks.

Waving and blessing as they do

As the worship leader at Main Street Park, as I sang and played the random songs I picked somehow they meant something different being sung and prayed there as opposed to within the friendly confines of The Refuge.

I exalt Thee

I exalt Thee

I exalt Thee, o Lord!

Lord, let your glory fall as on that ancient day

Songs of enduring love and then Your glory came...

You are good, You are good, and Your love endures

You are good, You are good, and Your love endures today...

All the earth will shout Your praise

Our hearts will cry, these bones will sing

Great are You, Lord

Jesus is not just Lord at the gathering. He is the Lord of heaven and earth which includes this little town pretty much two hours from anything.

When we reassembled around 11:30 am we debriefed our morning exercise. The gals at Main Street Park loved all the complimentary honks and waves they got. The prayer teams shared about the joy they experienced as they went out and blessed the city in different locales. Those who had remained at Refuge in our very warmish sanctuary covered all in prayer. When I asked for critiques for next time almost everyone agreed that while the prayer-teams didn't really run into anyone nor no one visited the prayer station, everyone was fairly certain that it was a wonderful way to “do” church. Besides, Sunday afternoon or early evening events would not lesson competition with other goings-on; it might actually heighten it.

So, small crowd or large, go out in Jesus' name with the exhortation from the Apostle Peter in our ears:

“Summing up: Be agreeable, be sympathetic, be loving, be compassionate, be humble. That goes for all of you, no exceptions. No retaliation. No sharp-tongued sarcasm. Instead, bless—that’s your job, to bless. You’ll be a blessing and also get a blessing.” 1 Peter 3:8-9, The Message

With God's help, I think we did just that this past Sunday and trust that he'll reward our act of faith with the confidence to continue to go forth in his name.

"This is the gate of heaven": a reflection on the quiet places

 “The most important discovery of my whole life is that one can take
a little rough cabin and transform it into a palace just by flooding it with thoughts of God. When one has spent many months in a little house like this in daily thoughts about God, the very entering of the house, the very sight of it as one approaches, starts associations which set the heart tingling and the mind flowing. I have come to the point where I must have my house, in order to write the best letters or think the richest thoughts.” Letters by a Modern Mystic by Frank C. Laubach

When I was a young man  learning how to follow Jesus, more often than not my “prayer room” was my basement bedroom in our home on Turner Avenue in Madison. As instructed, I would wake up a little earlier, get down on my knees, quiet my heart, read my Bible and pray. “Quiet Time” was the buzz phrase then (a term that has long since fallen out of vogue). Of course, the purpose was not to simply “punch the clock”; rather, it was to foster a relationship with Jesus. I don't remember any more how long my quiet time lasted but I probably averaged 20-25 minutes depending how late I had stayed up the night before and how soon I had to be to class or work.

During my Bible college years, my prayer room varied from an alcove beneath the basement steps at one town home I lived in to the bedside of the hotel room we were housed in. After I married, developing a new prayer routine was a bit challenging for awhile – Linda and I lived in a small one-bedroom garden apartment – but during that season I recall a certain chair in our living room where I would kneel, read and pray.

My prayer room since 1991

Since becoming a pastor, however, my prayer room hands down is the sanctuary of the fellowship I serve, The Refuge International. As buildings go, our gathering place is fairly simple: a block building 45' by 30' feet with a front and rear egress. Originally a “cry-room” the one room off the entryway serves as a catch-all church/pastor's office. The lower-level contains a fellowship hall, a nursery, one Sunday School classroom, a kitchen, two unisex bathrooms and three closets. After 65 years, we finally replaced our boiler last year. And while it's not a fact to be proud of, we remain the only fellowship in our city that does not have air-conditioning (two large overhead fans in the sanctuary and few others scattered about the room suffice on those real dog-days of the summer). All that to reiterate: there is nothing about this place to write home about.

The altar steps is a place I frequent

But for me personally the steps of the altar (for many years the far
left altar and for several years running now the far right) has become my tent of meeting. In Exodus 33 we learn that Moses would post a tent some distance outside the camp and go there regularly to meet with God.

“It was Moses’ practice to take the Tent of Meeting and set it up some distance from the camp. Everyone who wanted to make a request of the Lord would go to the Tent of Meeting outside the camp.”

“Whenever Moses went out to the Tent of Meeting, all the people would get up and stand in the entrances of their own tents. They would all watch Moses until he disappeared inside. As he went into the tent, the pillar of cloud would come down and hover at its entrance while the Lord spoke with Moses. When the people saw the cloud standing at the entrance of the tent, they would stand and bow down in front of their own tents. Inside the Tent of Meeting, the Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend.” Exodus 33:7-11, New Living Translation)

It is at these steps that I still my heart and seek to practice the presence of God. I used to pace more while I prayed. It kept me from falling asleep and somehow the movement helped focus my thoughts. But over the last few years, that practice has grown less. More often than not, it's getting easier to quiet my thoughts than it used to. Since the fall of 1991, this simple block building has been the place wherein I have developed my craft and enlarged my soul. While others often quip about bulldozing the whole place in and starting over (if God would be so kind to send, say, a natural disaster our way to expedite that), I love this old drafty building and one day – when I will no longer be the pastor here - will miss having it all to myself 98% of the time.

In the movie Dances with Wolves (1990), mule driver Timmons takes one look at Fort Sedgwick and spits. “Ain't much of a goin' concern, is it, Lieutenant?” he remarks to Kevin Costner's character, Lt. John J Dunbar. I suppose some might say the same thing of the church at the corner of Eighth and Leonard in Chetek. But to me it is quite literally, Bethel – the house of God (see Genesis 28). Frank Laubach, an American missionary who lived and served on Mindanao in the Philippines for over thirty years said of his small cabin among the Moro people:

“When one has spent many months in a little house like this in daily thoughts about God, the very entering of the house, the very sight of it as one approaches, starts associations which set the heart tingling and the mind flowing. I have come to the point where I must have my house, in order to write the best letters or think the richest thoughts.”

The only missionary to ever be honored with a US postal stamp

I feel the same about Refuge. It is, for me, the gateway to God, the tent of meeting where from time to time the cloud comes down and he reveals something more to me of him, his character, and his purposes. Yes, I sure would love to one day have AC but a fan will work much the same to cool me as I seek to know him better.