The little, extraordinary things of God

I attend and serve in a small church on a nondescript corner in a small, north Texas town. Passing through town, you could take the "Flyover" and miss the traffic lights that would slow you on your way to your destination. And you would miss the town

What can God do in such a town? It's not a metropolis where tens of thousands can be reached with the good news of Jesus Christ. The sizable churches here can be counted on a couple of fingers, and I'd be hard pressed to call any of those a mega-church.

But with such an attitude, I would miss the truth that the God who holds the beauty and majesty of the solar system and the cosmos in place is the same God who blooms a flower in northern Canada that no one will ever see. All for his glory and his good pleasure. Big and small. For his purposes clear or confusing.

The God of the metropolis is the God of small town. He cares for and works in all those who would call upon his name.

Eighteen years ago, we began attending a tiny church, Messiah Baptist Church then, with a small congregation of passionate people who loved the Lord. The pastor, Keith Stone, had begun the church six years before that, 1995, when the Lord moved his heart to begin that work. It met in his home. And grew. They then paid cash for an abandoned building in our mostly deserted downtown area.

Pastor Keith Stone & his bride, Debbie

Since then, through various circumstances, all with God's mighty hand at the tiller, Troy Scott, Lukus Counterman, Luke Love, Josh Longoria, and an occasional pinch-pastor, have shepherded this little church in north Texas, now Wichita Falls Baptist Church. Each one used of God to invest in and nourish this small body of believers in the hot plains of northern Texas. 

Today, through God's good providence, the current pastor, Jeremy Mollenkopf, got to meet the first pastor, Keith Stone, as the latter and his bride, Debbie (our first pianist), were back in town for Debbie's high school reunion. In sweet providence, Jeremy was preaching on Haggai 2:1-9, a passage that highlights that the size of a thing does not correspond directly to what God thinks of the thing. We might think it meager but God is doing an amazing thing in that which appears puny.

Pastor Stone & Pastor Jeremy Mollenkopf

Jeremy highlighted this truth by referencing the time when Jesus, in the Temple, witnessed a poor widow place two mites, two small copper coins, in the coffers of that majestic facility, a pittance in relation to the amounts that others were giving. Jeremy noted, "Two coins didn't make much noise" going into those coffers. 

But what did incarnate God think of such? She "has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. for they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on" (Mark 12:43-44).

God doesn't call us to create the harvest. He just calls us to be faithful to use the few talents he has given all who believe in this life for his glory. The harvest is in his hands. Perhaps I teach a Sunday school of three or three thousand. Perhaps I give ten dollars or ten thousand. Which is better? Which is bigger? In truth, only God knows. Which has poured out heart and soul in service and love to God in their service? Ah, there's the rub.

Today, my soul was blessed of God to see these two men stand side-by-side. They bookend the last twenty years of my life and all that God has done for me within this small, "insignificant" ministry in a small north Texas town. I praise God for the noise he has made through these two small coins and all those in between.

The ugliness of the Left...

...and the Right

When folks are struck by the events of recent days, they'll often reminisce about what it was like in days of old, thinking their rose-colored glasses beheld the past with crystal clarity. I do this and ache for times less caustic and crass. Then a friend will slap me up side the head and declare, "They were as ugly then as we are today."

Perhaps.

But then I'll read something in history that will make me stop and think, "No, perhaps it was better, more restrained." 

I'm in the midst of Ulysses S. Grant's memoirs, really a look at his time growing up through the end of the Civil War. A couple of things that he wrote indicate that things have changed. Consider this anecdote. When writing about the ornery nature of pack mules, Grant wrote, "I am not aware of ever having used a profane expletive in my life; but I would have the charity to excuse those who may have done so, if they were in charge of a train of Mexican pack mules at the time." Really? A man who rose through the military ranks, became a general in time of the most gruesome war, and then went on to the office of President of the United States and to never use profanity?

Not only that, he would excuse those who had to work with Mexican pack mules. This would lead one to believe that he would not (and perhaps did not) in other circumstances. Considering the expletives that substitute for nouns, verbs, adjectives, and adverbs today all when discussing things of such gravity as whether the next Star Wars movie will ruin the saga or if it's already beyond repair, I would say its fair to say that we have changed much from one-hundred and fifty years ago.

What struck me last night as I read was how Grant looked back on the aftermath of the Battle of Vicksburg, one of the turning points of the war between North and South, brother and brother. After the siege was ended, Grant wrote,

"Our men had had full rations from the time the siege commenced, to the close. The enemy had been suffering, particularly towards the last. I myself saw our men taking bread from their haversacks and giving it to the enemy they had so recently been engaged in starving out. It was accepted with avidity and with thanks."

These men had been shooting each other. They stood opposed to each other politically. Each had invaded the home-soil of the other.

Grant allowed no retribution, "The prisoners were allowed to occupy their old camps behind the intrenchments. No restraint was put upon them except by their own commanders. They were rationed about as our own men, and from our own supplies." And then wrote about what he witnessed of the interaction between Gray and Blue in his matter-of-fact style:

"The men of the two armies fraternized as if they had been fighting for the same cause. When they passed out of the works they had so long and so gallantly defended, between lines of their late antagonists, not a cheer went up, not a remark was made that would give pain. Really, I believe there was a feeling of sadness just then in the breasts of most of the Union soldiers at seeing the dejection of their late antagonists."

There was no loathing. None rejoiced at the defeat of the other. Oh, certainly they rejoiced in their victory, but they did not turn and rub the noses of the defeated in the blood of their shattered comrades. 

Where is this today? As the surrender of Vicksburg approached, the fact that it was going to occur near the 4th of July weighed heavy on both sides. Why? A common heritage. A love for the Declaration of Independence and all for which it stood. Where is the common ground today between the Left and the Right?

Can we all not rejoice in peace overtures on the Korean Peninsula?

Can we all not recoil in horror as Syria gasses its own people?

What happened to our ability to restrain the darkness of our hearts and not blurt out its every venomous inkling on Twitter or in response to some perceived slight on social media?

Why will we not go the extra mile and try to defeat an idea with argument as opposed to slander or some glib meme all the while holding the dignity of the opponent in high regard?

This is a different day, a different time. I am no perfect man. I would love to raise more glasses and debate more issues with those with whom I disagree. It seems the sun is setting with greater speed on the likelihood of such opportunities. 

Will we take them while we can and share the rations of our haversacks?