Jevlir Logo

The Jevlir Caravansary

Author: jevlir

  • A Shell of a Church

    “So why did you want to see me, Charlie,” said the elderly man after the preliminary social amenities were completed.  “It’s been what, 25 years?”  His tone was friendly, but his face showed disappointment.

    “I wanted you to see what we have happening here.  Thirty-five years ago I received my call to ministry in your church when you were preaching.  The church helped me get to seminary.  Now look at this monument to the gospel.  That’s part of your legacy.”

    The elderly man sat quietly for a minute.  Charlie said it with pride, but it was a pride that was assumed, sort of like a role.  He was supposed to be proud of his accomplishments because he was supposed to be.  But behind it there was something else.  Concern?  No, fear was more like it.

    “So you called me again after 25 years of silence because you wanted me to see this campus?”  It was a beautiful campus, several acres, more than $20 million in budget every year, a lighted cross that could be seen for miles around, thousands of worshipers.

    “Well, that was part of it.”

    “A very small part, I suspect.  You can’t call me at 11 PM, sounding panicked, and tell me that you need to see me as soon as possible, and then expect me to believe you wanted to show me the campus.”

    Charlie looked at him for a moment, then chuckled.  “I never could deceive you, could I?  I still can’t.  Look at this.”  He pulled out a sheaf of papers and slid them across the desk.

    The elderly man looked at them.  They were worn and dog-eared, but he could see the date on the front page and it was only two weeks ago.  Somebody had been spending a lot of time with these papers.  The title read “Survey of Attitudes and Values” followed by the name of the church.

    “Why don’t you sum it up for me.  I was never all that good with figures,” he said.

    “Well, it’s not good news.  It tells me that my church members are pretty much  like the neighborhood.  They’re concerned about the same things, they have the same values, the same divorce rates, the same views on major moral issues.  People who worship here are as likely to support abortion as those who don’t, for example.”  He paused.  “Actually, they’re a bit more likely.  They give a bit less, they serve a bit less, they’re as likely to be divorced.  It goes on and on.  There’s no good news.”

    “And this surprises you?”

    There was a minute or so of silence.

    “You think it shouldn’t?” asked Charlie.

    “I think there is always a reason.”

    “I’m guessing there would be a different result at the old home church, not that there are enough members to do a proper survey.”

    “I don’t know what a survey would show.  I never had one taken.  I doubt we could afford it.”

    “Well, it’s a small church.  Here we need to have a way to measure our success.”

    “But your problem is that it’s not success that you’re measuring.  Do you have any problems with your church budget?”

    “Other than the normal, no.”

    “You have all the buildings you need?”

    “Well, we have some new projects going.”

    “Your church is growing?”

    “Certainly.”

    “So why did you have the survey taken?”

    “I wanted to know what impact we’re having on people.”

    “You’re their pastor.  Can’t you tell?”

    “There are thousands of people here.  I can’t possibly know them all.”

    “And you thought this,” he picked up the survey, “would help you find out?”

    “Yes.  I was wondering if we needed some new classes, or perhaps counseling programs.  Things to help people find their values and live up to them.”

    “Did you really think those things were going to work?”

    “I don’t know.  I was concerned before the survey was taken.  Since I read it, I’m feeling even worse.”  He paused.

    “What is it that you feel?” prompted the elderly man.

    “I feel like this is a shell.  Like God isn’t here.”

    “Good.”

    “Good?”  Charlie looked puzzled.

    “You are still able to listen to the Holy Spirit.”

    “But this is discouragement!  Surely it’s the work of the enemy!”

    “It would be discouragement if it wasn’t true.  If it’s true, it’s conviction.”

    “So do you have any suggestions?  Anything I can do?  I’ve been thinking about new classes about the basics of Christianity.”

    “No, I don’t think that is what you need.”

    “Then what?  You were my mentor.  You’re the only one I can turn to.  The only one who doesn’t expect me to have everything together.”

    “No, that’s not true.  There is One other.  And I think he has some advice for you.  You may not like it.”

    So be zealous, and repent! – Revelation 3:19b

    Unless YHWH builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. – Psalm 127:1

  • Christian Carnival #301 Posted

    … at Fish and Cans.  Lots of interesting stuff.

  • The Organ and the Tramp

    He was dressed in ragged clothing, more patches than original cloth.  His face was covered with the stubble of several days without shaving.  He looked like he should be cold but he wasn’t shivering.  In fact, he looked peaceful.

    Tom saw the tramp out of the corner of his eye.  He looked around to see if anyone was watching, then turned to cross the parking lot and avoid the man.

    “How did the meeting go?” asked a voice.

    Tom turned.  It was the tramp.

    “Fine.  How did you know I was in a meeting?”

    “You came from the office.  The lights have been on in one room for some time.  It’s after office hours.  You were in a meeting.”  He said it evenly, calmly.

    “Oh.”

    “Did you get the organ?”

    “Yes, I did.”

    It wasn’t easy, was it?”

    Tom looked at the tramp for a moment, he wasn’t wondering how the tramp knew what the meeting was about.  Instead, he wondered why he didn’t wonder.  “No,” he said.  “It wasn’t easy.”

    “Patty wanted the money for more materials for the children’s department.  She made a strong case.”

    “Yes, she did.”

    “But she didn’t get the money.”

    “No, she didn’t.”

    “Alexander wanted you to buy an electronic keyboard rather than the pipe organ.  It would have cost less and it could have been used by both the contemporary praise band and the traditional service.”

    “True, but there’s nothing like singing the good old hymns to the accompaniment of a pipe organ.  It was worth it.”

    “The evangelism pastor wanted the money for outreach, didn’t he?”

    “Yes, but he didn’t really need those materials.  Individual contact will work well enough.  You don’t need materials to introduce someone to Jesus.”

    “Well, he didn’t get them either.  Nellie wanted the money to give to the homeless shelter.  But she didn’t get it.”

    “Quite true.  The organ was very important to me.”

    “I wonder how that happened?” asked the tramp.

    “I guess they all understood just how important good music is to this congregation.”

    “But your reputation didn’t hurt.”

    “I’ve served this church longer than any of those folks have been alive!”

    “That’s very important to you, isn’t it?”

    “Well, it should be!  Christianity is all about service.  Some of these young people don’t want to do any of the work around the church at all!”

    “But you’re always there, moving chairs, cleaning, mowing the grass, whatever needs doing.”

    “Yes, I have.”  Tom looked at the tramp with pride.  He truly had done all those things.

    “And you’ve made sure everyone knows, haven’t you?”

    Tom paused, surprised.  “I never talk about my service.  If others notice, that’s their affair.”

    “But you make sure they see you, don’t you?”

    “I don’t do that!”

    “Yet when you saw me you looked around before you headed for the other side of the parking lot.  You didn’t want to be seen avoiding me.  But when you were sure nobody would see, you turned away from me.”

    Tom stopped and just looked.  He really had done that.  How had the tramp known?

    “Well,” continued the tramp, “I hope the organ music truly blesses someone.”

    Tom turned to away.  It wasn’t fair.  He was a servant.  Had been for years.  The organ was important.  It was a good thing!

    He turned back to argue, but the tramp was gone.  Tom was surprised.  He would never have expected someone in the tramp’s condition could move that fast.

    Whenever you did something for one of the least of my brothers or sisters, you did it for me. — Matthew 25:40

    But as for you, when you do your charitable acts, don’t let yourleft hand know what your right hand is doing. — Matthew 6:3

    Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the son of man doesn’t have anywhere to lay his head.” — Matthew 8:20

    [This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to any persons in the real wold is purely coincidental.  Copyright © 2009, Henry Neufeld]

  • Christian Carnival CCC Posted

    … at Brain Cramps for God, including my story Comforted.

  • Comforted

    She wasn’t comfortable with this visit, but it was her duty.  He had lost his son just three weeks earlier and she had conducted the funeral.  The death had been sudden, tragic.  The man had lost his wife only three years earlier, and his son was his life.  At the funeral he had been devastated.

    Now he looked peaceful, almost happy.  It was very strange.  Could he get over such a loss in just three weeks?  He’d been away for the last two weeks, and had told nobody where he was going. Many had feared that he would commit suicide, or maybe already had.  But here he was, comfortable in his own living room, accepting her pastoral visit.

    “You look better,” she said.

    “I am better.”

    “Where have you been?  Your friends have been worried.”

    “I went hiking.  In the wilderness.  Mountains.”

    “You could have been hurt.  Nobody knew where you were.”

    “I wasn’t hurt.”

    “No, I can see that.  But hiking all alone, in your condition!”

    “Alone?”  He paused.  “I see why you say that.  But no, not alone.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “God was with me.”

    “I know that God is with you everywhere, but you need human contact.”

    “No, I needed to talk to God.”

    “And did God speak to you?”

    “Well, yes and no.”

    “Yes and no?”

    “Well, there was no voice.  There were just trees, rocks, streams, mountains, birds, and yes, a few animals.  But I heard God.”

    “And that has brought you this peace?”

    “Peace?  Is that what I feel?  Then yes, it brought me peace.”

    “So somehow in looking at the mountains you found a purpose in what happened to you?”

    “No, no purpose.  It still makes no sense to me at all.  But I can live with it.”

    “So you didn’t hear anything from God, you didn’t learn anything, but you found peace?”  As she said it, she knew it was wrong.  She should be celebrating his peace, not questioning it, but she couldn’t help herself.

    “Oh, I did learn something from God.”

    “Yes?  What was it?”

    “As I looked at the mountains I realized just how overwhelmingly great God is, just how much beyond my understanding.”

    He paused and she waited silently.

    “I learned just one thing,” he said.  “I learned that God is God.”

    Then YHWH answered Job out of the whirlwind and said,
    “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge.”  — Job 38:1-2 (author’s translation)

    Then Job answered YHWH and he said, …
    “Therefore I desist, and repent in dust and ashes.” — Job 42:1,6 (author’s translation)

  • Christian Carnival CCXCIX Posted

    … at The Minority Thinker.

  • Working on Stuff

    I’m busy with book releases, Megabelt on October 30 and then Christian Archy on November 2.  I’ll have some more posts here in a couple of days.  But in the meantime, enjoy-and be challenged by-this short-short story from The Question Parson.

  • Christian Carnival CCXCVIII Posted

    … at Bible Archive.  Check it out!

  • Yet Again Literary Standards – or Not

    I don’t read Dan Brown, not because I don’t like his writing (which I’ve never read), but because I don’t really enjoy conspiracy theory novels as a rule.  Now there’s a clumsy sentence, such as the author of this article in the Telegraph would dislike.

    The examples given are generally not great writing–from my perspective–but many, many people love Dan Brown’s writing and they buy his books.

    I must confess that I find it humorous for literary elitists to criticize a book which has such an obvious following on literary grounds.  The problem is that deciding that something is “good” is not purely abstract.  It must be “good” for something in particular.

    Thus Dan Brown is “good” in the sense that he entertains his audience and sells his books.  Tolstoy or Shakespeare are “good” in a different sense.  I actually have different standards for different types of reading.  What makes a good book that I read for fascination and intellectual enjoyment will ruin a book that I use for bedtime reading and recreation when I’m tired.

    A majority of elitist criticism of literature seems to neglect this point.  They want to have a list of “good” literature and exclude everything else.  I don’t choose my reading that way, nor do most people.  Publishers use different criteria for different literature.

    I believe that is as it should be.

  • Christian Carnival CCXCV Posted

    … at The Evangelical Ecologist.