Sunday, 17 April 2016

Lessons from the Pastoral Visit and the Mortuary

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, ..." (Ecclesiastes 3: 1-2).

My brother shared this amusing picture with me of the hearse towing a U-Haul trailer. I laughed, not so much because of all the potential captions and stories that the image conjures up, but because it took me back about twenty years in time when I had some of my most memorable “ministry” experiences.

Already well into my thirties, I felt the call for some more education which included some undergraduate studies as well as a theology degree from a local seminary. While I studied a full-time course load, I also worked full-time night shift and juggled family responsibilities of being a husband and father. Apparently I still wasn’t busy enough, and so I also volunteered at a small local church as an Associate Pastor with primary responsibilities being the visitation of seniors and elderly, including several shut in’s. Despite the hectic schedule, I loved those four years.

Now, you may be asking yourself, “What’s that got to do with a hearse towing a U-Haul trailer?” Good question.

There was one dear elderly lady that I used to visit regularly who couldn’t get out much. As I recall, one of her favourite topics of discussion was how people, Christians included, seemed to be trapped in a materialistic mindset. She would often say, seemingly unaware that she told me the same story a hundred times before (sound familiar? –LOL), “You know, Reverend Roach, I ain’t never seen no hearse pulling no U-Haul.” I would, of course, respectfully acknowledge her statement, while deep inside be amused at how she would always get my name wrong, and still insist on calling me a Reverend. I never did have the heart to tell her that, though on more than one occasion I had been offered ordination in the church, I always declined. But that’s story for another time.

But her point was taken; perhaps we do tend to cling to material possessions and wealth a little tighter than we ought. And now, some twenty years later as my wife and I begin to discuss the possibility of downsizing and as we prepare for, Lord willing, semi-retirement, the picture of the hearse towing the U-Haul trailer and the memory of that dear lady, reminds us that we will not be leaving this world with fists clenched tightly around our possessions, but rather with hands held wide open, leaving this world just as we entered it; empty handed.

A few years later we moved away to answer the call to serve another church in another community. While I haven't heard to the contrary, I'm sure that based upon her age at the time, that dear lady has long since had her ride in a hearse. And I'm also certain, there was no U-Haul attached to it at the time. 

It is interesting how, the older I get, the more faces and names I recognize in the obituary columns. Many are even younger than I am now. I don’t say this to be morbid, for as Paul said, “to be away from the body is to be present with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8). Personally, I look forward to that day; don’t you?

So I just want to take a moment and thank my brother for sharing that picture and for reminding me of what’s really important in life as I too begin the process of loosening my grip on some stuff.

“I ain’t never seen no hearse pulling no U-Haul,” said that dear old saint on my visitation schedule. And if you ever do see one, don’t for a second think the deceased has figured out some way of taking their stuff with them to the other side. It just isn’t so, and it begs the question of how we ought to use our “stuff” this side of the mortuary. Something to think about. Peace.

Photo Source: Unknown

Saturday, 2 April 2016

The Tale of the Long Spoons

At my son's wedding, the grandfathers were given the opportunity to share a "blessing" to the bride and groom following the service. Little did my Dad know that the whole theme of their wedding would be one of "serving one another," and would include such elements as the literal washing of each other's feet, which left a very powerful and wet-eyed image to most, if not all, of the wedding guests. So when Dad came up front and included this story, well, it fit the overall theme of the wedding like a glove. Here's the story he told:

A Rabbi once asked God to be able to see heaven and hell. God permitted it and gave him the prophet Elijah as a guide. First, Elijah led the Rabbi into a large room. In the midst of it, on a fire, there was a pot full of delicious food. Round about people were sitting with long spoons which they dipped into the pot. However, the people looked pale, thin and miserable. The handles of the spoons were much too long, so that they could not bring the wonderful food to their mouths. 
When the two visitors were outside again, the Rabbi asked the prophet what strange place that was. It was hell. 
Then Elijah led the Rabbi into a second room that looked exactly like the first one. In the middle of the room was a fire and delicious food was cooking. People sat about holding long spoons. However, these people looked well nourished, healthy and happy. They did not try to feed themselves, but rather they used the long spoons to feed one another. This room was heaven.

Yes, there are a few theological liberties concerning heaven and hell in that tale, but I love that story nonetheless. I'd heard Dad's story several times before, but every time I hear it, it leaves me with the image of Jesus' call to each of us as to how we are to care for our fellow man. He, who fed the 5000 men (plus women and children) in John chapter 6, and fed the 4000 (Matthew chapter 15), through those feedings illustrated the importance of one-anothering and of giving the other a higher priority than ourselves. How well are we doing in that department? I wonder.

Perhaps this side of eternity there is also some measure of heaven and hell, and it's largely predetermined by the way we respond to the needs of one another. After all, as John said, "If anyone says, 'I love God,' yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen. And he has given us this command: Whoever loves God must also love his brother." (1 John 4: 20-21; NIV).

Recently someone shared the following video on Facebook, which instantly made me think of Dad's story. At the very least, it's something for all of us to think about. Peace and Blessings.



Photo Credit: Dino Abatzidis; Flickr Creative Commons
Story Source: Translated by Gunter Rochow from: Both, Beate. "Die Geschichte von den langen Löffeln". Wenn wir anfingen mit dem Herzen zu denken. Wuppertal: Kiefer Verlag, 1986, 2. Auflage, p.38.

Friday, 25 March 2016

An Email Rant and A Good Friday Reminder

"One look at an email can rob you of 15 minutes of focus. One call on your cell phone, one tweet, one instant message can destroy your schedule, forcing you to move meetings, or blow off really important things, like love and friendship." (Jacqueline Leo)

Well here we are on another Good Friday, a Statutory Holiday in many places. Translation: a short workweek. Translation: a long weekend. Sounds great, doesn’t it? Ahh, who doesn’t love a loonnngggg weekend?! Truth is, however, it comes with a price, which is the essence of my rant today.

<< Start Rant >>

Despite all the hype, and being not completely mindless of the significance of the Good Friday “day off,” it seems that sometimes long weekends aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. Perhaps in some types of work, they’re still great; I used to like them more too once upon a time. I’m sure that I can speak for many of us, especially those of us in some form of leadership capacity, that the workload doesn’t proportionately decrease just because the workweek suddenly becomes shorter.

The fact is, when I’m barely keeping my head above water on a normal five-day workweek, and suddenly along comes that wonderful extra day off on my weekend afforded to me by the government-imposed statutory holiday, having one less day to get my work done is almost as bad as committing suicide by drowning! If I can barely get things done in five days, how on earth am I supposed to get the same amount of work done in four? I was never good at math, but I do know that those formulas don’t add up; five minus one does not equal five!

By way of example, I worked four days this week, two of which already contained several extra hours in which I worked well into the evening, one night of which resulted in getting only 2.5 hours of actual sleep. Then yesterday, on the eve of “Good Friday” (a long weekend) I arrive home later than normal once again, only to look at my work phone and notice that I still have 89 unread email messages. I should also add that there are probably almost half that many again that I’ve already read, but haven’t yet fully dealt with. In other words, they too are still in my inbox. “Good” Friday? I know, I know, Good Friday has nothing to do with my workplace woes, but there is at least a little irony there, wouldn’t you say?

Translation: Between the read and unread emails, there are approximately 130 emails that still need my attention … this week (and never mind all those +/- 30 more unread emails in my personal email accounts) ... and they said that computers would make our lives easier! Ha! In my humble opinion, in some ways the reverse seems closer to the truth; life somehow seemed easier before the advent of the computer age.

So here we are, another statutory holiday, and I’ll take the day off with pay as the government says that I may. And while I’m twiddling my thumbs at home, enjoying my time off from the workplace, I’ll ignore the fact that those 89 unread emails will probably grow to the 110-120 mark by the time I return to the office Monday morning, which in turn obviously means that not everyone is taking the long weekend off. But, hey, computers have made my life easier. So what have I got to complain about? (Yes, I’m being a little facetious).

Having said all that, I do not want to end all this on a negative note or sound ungrateful. In a day and age when there is so much high unemployment, I am indeed very thankful for my job, plethora of emails and all.

<< End Rant >>

A former Catholic priest and friend of mine reminded me recently of how he prioritized his life into five categories. He said that only then did he seem to get control of some of the angst of workplace pressures. From most important to least important, those categories are: (1) God, (2) Spouse, (3) Personal Health, (4) Rest of Family, (5) Job/Career (I’ve made reference to this before in Goose Theology and the Sermon on the Mount). Based upon my rant, I’ve clearly managed to get that order mixed up yet again. *sigh*

So in an effort to refocus and make things right again, I say hello to Good Friday. I will deliberately be unorthodox today, from a business perspective, and try and ignore all those business emails for at least today. This is, after all, the start of the most important weekend in the church calendar, and that’s worth stopping to reflect upon. Some might ask, so what’s the big deal with Good Friday anyway? Perhaps I can answer that best by sharing what I'm meditating upon today:

While at first the execution of Jesus seemed tragic to the disciples, the truth is that there was something very “good” that came from it. Peter reminded his hearers that the crucifixion of Jesus came about “by God’s set purpose and foreknowledge” (Acts 2:23). Why would God do that? Peter soon answers that question: “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:38). “Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12). Paul would later say that by means of the cross God was reconciling “to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross” (Colossians 1:20).

Fact is, it is God’s desire that mankind be saved, which is “good.” God knew that we could not be saved on our own efforts, so He provided the way, which is also “good.” The way God chose to do this was the cross of Christ, which is what Good Friday is all about. When combined with the empty tomb and Resurrection three days later on Easter Sunday morning, well that is the heart of the Good News. He is risen! He is risen! He is risen indeed! Therein is our hope.

So my goal this Good Friday is to slow the work pace down to a crawl and meditate a little more upon goodness and love of God toward me, a sinner saved only by His grace. Certainly that’s a little more important than clearing up my inbox of a bunch of emails. Peace to you and yours this Easter season. God bless.

Photo #1 Credit: Flickr Creative Commons
Photo #2 Credit: Flickr Creative Commons
Photo #3 Credit: Flickr Creative Commons

Saturday, 19 March 2016

Salt, Light, and the Itch for Publicity

Recently a friend found an old tattered book in a used bookstore whose title intrigued him. It was called, The Christ of the Mount: A Working Philosophy of Life by E. Stanley Jones, copyright 1931, The Abingdon Press. Amazon says it’s currently unavailable, but like my friend, you may still find a used copy somewhere.

Eli Stanley Jones was an American Methodist missionary who, according to Wikipedia was the Billy Graham to India. He died in India in January of 1973.

After my friend was done with this book, he loaned it to me to enjoy as well. There were several sections that caught my attention, including this discussion on salt and light based upon Matthew 5: 13-16. Here’s his take on that portion of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount:
The action of salt is silent, pervasive, hidden, unseen; the action of light is open and manifest – the most openly manifest thing imaginable. The influence of Christian character is to be twofold, a silent, hidden and pervasive thing reaching into the very fiber of men’s thought and outlook; and it is to be open, lighting the outer life of men and their affairs. But it is to be inward and pervasive before it is to be outward – we are to be salt before we can be light. No man can shine in obviousness unless he is willing to permeate in obscurity. Many of us would like to be light, but we are unwilling to work like salt, unseen, unnoticed, unapplauded. … We have no real passion to change things where change really matters, namely, within. The Christianity of the present day is hurt by a desire to be light coupled with an unwillingness to be salt. It is suffering from an outwardism that is more interested in statistics than in states of heart and mind.
So what is your take on that? Are we guilty of being unwilling to work like salt? Are we only interested in the applause of light? While I try not to dwell upon institutional church faux-pas like I once did, I confess that all I could think about is the showmanship of many modern church services. I know that’s an unfair caricature; not all churches are like that. Still I’ve long since argued that Hollywood has invaded the church service, such as in this post from January 2008.

Maybe that’s why Paul cautioned Timothy to not be too quick of laying on the hands (1 Timothy 5:22); maybe he too thought it important to make sure that there was salt before focusing on the light. It all reminds me of the story of the pastor who had served in a church for many years before he himself actually came to know the Lord and be saved. How ironic to think that he may have been converted by his own preaching. Was he “light” before first being “salt?” Hmm, in my way of thinking, and perhaps Jones’ as well, it begs the question.

Is the church today “suffering from an outwardism that is more interested in statistics than in states of heart and mind?” Perhaps the cartoon is truer than we care to admit; “The ministers’ gathering was going well until the question came up, ‘How’s your church doing?’” Perhaps we are more focused on being light than first being salt. Perhaps we’ve put the proverbial cart before the horse. Perhaps too many of us still suffer from Pinocchio-itis. Perhaps the real issue here is the demon Pride. Something to think about. Peace.

Cartoon Source: Unknown

Thursday, 4 February 2016

To Beard or not to Beard

I’ve been bearded most of my life.

Whenever people asked me about my beard, in jest I would often say something to the effect of, “I wear a beard for religious reasons. The way I figure it, if God gave me the ability to grow a beard, He must have meant for me to have a beard.

Then one day, after using that line on an uncle who asked a similar question, the uncle said, “God also gave you the ability to father hundreds of children, but He probably didn’t intend for you to do so.

We both laughed, and I was busted! Clearly my uncle had a similar sense of humor to mine. In truth, the beard probably remains more out of laziness and an aversion to shaving than it does for any religious reasons. Oh, and I also think I look better with the beard than without it, so I guess vanity has something to do with it too.

But seriously, as my son reminded me in a recent quote he shared with me, there was a time when a man’s beard not only had spiritual implications, but was also viewed as being akin to his salvation.

Church history tells us that back in the time of Tsar Peter I (1672-1725), also known as ‘Peter the Great’ of Russia, the church was essentially dragged into the modern age by importing several western customs and beliefs. Among these new reformations was the question of what to do with the man’s beard and which ultimately introduced the custom of shaving to part of the church which probably would rather have not discovered it. Historian Jonathan Hill says,
Western fashions were imposed on the Russians, and even beards – an enduring symbol of the Orthodox Church – were banned. Many old men obediently cut off their beards but kept them in boxes, convinced they could not be saved without them.
After I was done chuckling and sneering over that one, I was reminded of the story of how King David sent a delegation to Hanun, the heir to the Ammonite throne, on the occasion of the death of his father. Hanun’s advisors suggested that David’s men were spies, and so the Ammonites seized the delegation and humiliated them by cutting off half of each man’s beard (2 Samuel 10:1-4). There was a peculiar sacrosanctity to the beard, which is also seen in Samson’s case, that in shaving one’s beard, would lead one to being viewed as being less than a man (Judges 16:19). In Old Testament times, basically there was something about a man’s beard that was held in high and religious esteem.

A beard was a sign of maturity in the ancient near east. It was synonymous with the word “elder.” At the risk of digressing too far, this is interesting when compared with some cults, such as the Mormons, which send out young missionaries who, while called “elders,” ironically often appear too young to even shave, much less grow a real beard. But I’ve digressed.

Many ancient monuments often displayed bearded figures, and in some cases, even women were portrayed with fake beards on formal state occasions. The Old Testament likewise had some pretty strict rules about altering and trimming the beard (Leviticus 19:27). So severe was this that, when it came to a prophet’s beard, shaving it was viewed as bringing on the judgment of God (Isaiah 7:20). The fact that in some cultures, such as Greek and Roman civilizations, men were typically clean-shaven, only reinforced Jewish pro-beard stance. Essentially the beard was the man’s glory.

Going back to the previous quote of the Russian Orthodox Church, that almighty reverence for the beard seems to have remained well into the history of the church.

Let’s stop and think about that for a moment. What happened to the church to cause people to think that their salvation was somehow tied to their beards? I then wondered, what about those poor souls who suffered with follicular challenges, and couldn’t grow a real manly beard? Were they viewed as being lost spiritually, or perhaps as lessor Christians? Or was this merely cultural? At the very least, it begs the question.

Had the church of the day forgotten that it is by grace that we are saved (Ephesians 2:5), and not by the beard they possessed? If so, how many other anomalous, peculiar, and queerish things did they also believe when it came to their Christian faith?

Fast-forward to our modern western church; are there also some off-beat and screwy things that we’ve embraced in our Christian walks, which when it comes right down to it, are also inconsistent with the things Jesus taught? I wonder.

Saturday, 30 January 2016

Two Reasons Why I May Never Vote Again

I have a bit of a confession to make.

I feel that I am beginning to have a real aversion to that inalienable right of our society … voting in the political machine. As a matter of fact, so strong is this aversion lately that I am seriously considering never voting again. I know, I know, many will then say, “If you don’t vote, you cannot complain.” The truth of the matter is, however, I’ve done my share of political complaining and/or whining in the past, and quite frankly, I’m tired of it. Maybe God is tired of it too.

Furthermore, I’m really am beginning to wonder as to the wisdom of always voting according to the proverbial “the lessor of the evils.” I mean, does not that very mantra suggest that, regardless who we vote for, we’re still voting for … evil? I know it’s just an expression, like saying that I’m “playing the devil’s advocate” (his defense lawyer), but there’s still a measure of truth to it, no matter how much we try and mask it over with cute clichés. Perhaps it’s a little ironic that voting in our “Democracy” often appears to have “Dictatorship” overtones to it. As an aside, I have a book in my library called “The Friendly Dictatorship” featuring the profile of former Canadian Prime Minister Jean Chrétien (Liberal) dressed like some third world dictator. Coincidence? Hmm.

Please understand that I am not trying to be legalistic or religious about all this. Likewise, I am not suggesting that Christians should or shouldn’t vote in secular politics, for to each their own. However, there are also a couple biblical themes that have contributed to my thinking that I may never vote again, and to those I’d now like to turn. At the very least, I have found myself meditating on them a little more lately as I wondered if there isn’t also within them a modern application to our polling station pilgrimages.


A lesson from Samuel: Does it apply today?
“So all the elders of Israel gathered together and came to Samuel at Ramah. They said to him, ‘You are old, and your sons do not walk in your ways; now appoint a king to lead us, such as all the other nations have.’ 
“But when they said, ‘Give us a king to lead us,’ this displeased Samuel; so he prayed to the Lord. And the Lord told him: ‘Listen to all that the people are saying to you; it is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their king. As they have done from the day I brought them up out of Egypt until this day, forsaking me and serving other gods, so they are doing to you. Now listen to them; but warn them solemnly and let them know what the king who will reign over them will do.’” (1 Samuel 8: 4-9; NIV)
As we read further, Samuel does warn the people as the Lord instructed him to do, but in the end, the people adamantly refused to listen and still demanded a king. Bottom line was, they wanted to keep up with the proverbial Jones’ and be like everyone else around them. The bigger bottom line was, God called it a rejection of Himself. Still, God was not going to force Himself on the people, and so He told Samuel to give them what their hearts longed for; He told him to give them a king (1 Samuel 8: 19-22).

I cannot help but wonder if there isn’t a correlation between that event leading up to Israel’s first king, and the way many of us chase after political leaders today through supporting our electoral processes. Society says we have an obligation and a right to vote, and the implication is that we are somehow deemed unpatriotic if we abstain from casting a ballot on Election Day. After all, it’s the democratic way (whatever that means), and democracy is good, right? Hmm. But what if, in casting a ballot for a political leader, we also inadvertently cast a ballot against God as leader? Is King Jesus not enough?

Likewise, politics and big money go hand in hand, begging a possible rethink of Matthew 6:24 where Jesus said, “No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money” (NIV). Let’s take this one step further. Is voting an agreement with the political machine, and then by default, essentially a bowing of the knee to the worldly god of Mammon? Ouch!

Is it such a stretch to apply Israel’s rejection of God (remember, that’s what God called it) by asking for a king to our asking for a new king (President, Prime Minister, etc.) every four years as a rejection of Him as well? For me it certainly is beginning to beg the question. Still, I do not wish to be dogmatic about this, and so I will just leave that thought here on the back burner and move on to the second reason why I may never vote again.


Strangers and aliens: Am I one?

Let me ask you, where is your true home? Where is your true citizenship? There are three interesting related words in the New Testament, which basically describe an alien living in a place that is not his home. They are: paroikeō (Luke 24:18, Hebrews 11:9), paroikia (Acts 13:17, 1 Peter 1:17), and paroikos (Acts 7:6,29, Ephesians 2:19, 1 Peter 2:11). Are we living in a place that is not really our true home? For the purpose of this blog post, let’s focus on two of those verses.
“Since you call on a Father who judges each man’s work impartially, live your lives as strangers here” (1 Peter 1:17; NIV). “Dear friends, I urge you as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul” (1 Peter 2:11; NIV).
It is interesting to note that in the Apostle Paul’s day, most people who lived in the Roman Empire were actually not Roman citizens. Having said that, they still had to pay taxes to the Roman political machine and abide by its laws, much like we have to, but the rights of citizenship most didn’t have. Even the Roman centurion who was about to flog Paul seemed surprised to learn that he was a Roman citizen (Acts 22:26). What does that mean for us today when we read Peter’s call to live our lives as strangers and aliens? Did that only apply to the early Church in his day, or is there a call to do likewise here today as well? In many ways it’s just as if I were travelling or vacationing in another country. I would not be a citizen of that country, and as such have no voting rights. I would, however, still have to obey and abide by the laws of that country.

Taken a step further, just because your home country gives you the ‘right’ to vote, or any other ‘right’ for that matter, does that automatically mean that you must exercise that right? I don’t think so! As a matter of fact, just because society says something is good and acceptable, doesn’t mean that God necessarily sees it that way too. In fact, as He told Samuel, it is possible that God may actually see the exercising of some of those rights as a rejection of Himself. What are we going to do with that?

Remember, Jesus said, “if you belonged to the world” (John 15:19), implying that we do not belong to it. Certainly we are to be lights to the world, just as Jesus said that He was the light of the world (John 812), but we do not belong to it. If Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36), and if we belong to Him and to His kingdom, “then we are heirs – heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ” (Romans 8:17), then is it not also right to say that we don’t belong to this world anymore than He belonged to this world?

Where is our true home and true citizenship, regardless where worldly political machines have drawn the borders on this planet Earth? While I’m a Canadian by birth, and by default my citizenship is Canadian, and while it’s true that as far as my earthly existence goes, I really do like living in this country, that in no way means that I have to support the politics of this country. Fact is, true sojourners don’t have votes at all.


Prayer: More effective than casting a ballot?

So if you don’t see me in the voting booth, it may be that I’ve finally made peace with this strange dichotomy of being a citizen of Heaven while being a stranger and an alien in this world and struggling to keep from embracing its crooked and often anti-Christ values. At the very least, I’m asking myself a few questions these days. Do I really want to cast a ballot endorsing an individual or party that does not share my values? Am I really OK with simply shrugging my shoulders and nonchalantly saying, “it’s the lessor of the evils,” out of a twisted belief that I must vote for someone? Why would I vote for any kind of evil? As a Christian, I already have a perfect King; why would I even think of voting for a lessor one? As I asked earlier, “is King Jesus not enough?”

Having said that, though I may never vote again, I am not completely lethargic or apathetic on the subject; Jesus did in fact call us to pray even for our enemies (Matthew 5:44). Despite the fact that sometimes God has been known to use evil world leaders for His purposes, by default I’d suggest that Matthew 5:44 extends to include our political leaders as well, whom we sometimes seem to see as enemies of God and His ways, or at least subjectively so in our own mind’s eye we appear to do.

Though I may choose to never vote again, I also choose not complain about worldly leaders. Rather I choose to pray for them, and then leave them and their earthly kingdoms to God. My King is already on the throne and I know that He isn’t about to be voted out.

That’s the way I see it. Peace and blessings.

“Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the father is not in him. For everything in the world – the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does – comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever” (1 John 2: 15-17; NIV).

Photo Credit: Flickr Creative Commons

Tuesday, 19 January 2016

The Insanity of God: A Book Review

One of the books I received this past Christmas was this one: “The Insanity of God: A True Story of Faith Resurrected.”

Its author uses the pseudonym Nik Ripken. Why a pseudonym? It is pseudonymously written as a part of the author’s effort to protect the identities of the people whose lives continue to be in real danger because of their faith.

It is the story of Nik Ripken, who when once asked by a mission committee interviewing him about his call to the foreign mission field, answered simply, “I read Matthew 28.” It is the story of how the Ripken family would move from their native American homeland to Nairobi, Kenya. It is the story of how in the early 1990's, long before the western world woke up to the plight of the Somali people and responded with aid and UN troops, Nik Ripken made several trips in and out of war-torn Muslim Somaliland to assess the needs and do what he could for a people devoid of hope. It is the story, not just of tragedy among the Somali people, but also of how tragedy stuck even in the Ripken’s own family. In reflecting on his time in Somaliland, the author writes:
I had to work hard to remember that neither Islam nor Muslims were the real enemy here. Lostness was the enemy. The enemy was the evil that viciously misleads and traps people like lost sheep without a shepherd. The Somalis were the victims. They were not the source or even the cause of the evil in their land. They were victims suffering evil’s grim effects. (p.119)
After already having spent years in Somaliland, and in a effort to one day return better prepared to serve and work amongst the Muslim communities of Africa, Nik Ripken traveled to over sixty countries to seek out and listen to the stories of more than six hundred believers, men and women who learned to live their faith often amidst severe persecution. Toward the end of the story, and after travelling the globe listening to the testimonies of the persecuted church, Nik Ripken seems to have an epiphany of sorts, and makes a few statements that ought to wake up an otherwise slumbering and non-persecuted church. He says:
We identify ourselves as believers by taking a stand with, and following the example of, those in persecution. Or we identify with their persecutors by not giving witness of Jesus to our family, our friends, and our enemies. Those who number themselves among the followers of Jesus – but don’t witness for Him – are actually siding with the Taliban, the brutal regime that rules North Korea, the secret police in communist China, and the Somalilands and Saudi Arabias of the world. Believers who do not share their faith aid and abet Satan’s ultimate goal of denying others access to Jesus. Our silence makes us accomplices. … “Why would Satan want to wake us up [to anticipated potential North American persecution] when he has already shut us up?” … Perhaps the question should not be: “Why are others persecuted?” Perhaps the better question is: “Why are we not?” (p.310-311)
Ouch! Hard words, no doubt, but (prophetic?) words nonetheless that Nik Ripken believes that many of us need to hear. He may be right. Still, it's amazing to me how often it seemed that I was reading a paraphrase of the New Testament book of Acts.

I enjoyed reading The Insanity of God and I do recommend it. Peace and Blessings.