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October 10, 2024October 9, 2024

Have A Chair

Smiling, the student welcomed me into his apartment. He had come a week or so earlier to start his first semester of studies in this new land.

“I am sorry”, he began – self-conscious and embarrassed – “I do not have a comfortable chair for you”.

Nodding my thanks as he gestured to the straight-backed chair, I took in the sparse surroundings. My goodness, I thought, even though this is a fine campus apartment, it’s virtually unfurnished. Only a couple sticks of furniture rested on the pristine carpeting spread throughout.

That surprise ‘aha moment’ was followed by more of the same as I made my rounds to welcome newly arrived students over the coming days. It left me both astonished and bewildered. What could be done to alter this scenario? The question persisted.

How does a newcomer on a tight budget – a young person virtually unknown by anyone inside the host country – tackle the task of furniture shopping in this place? The hurdles grew in number

No vehicle of their own (much less a driver’s license)
No friend with a pickup
Unaware of the uniquely American tradition called a ‘garage sale’
The list grows

There is a God in heaven. So goes the quote.

Drawing on what imagination capital we could muster, our ragtag team landed on a purely experimental game plan and pinned a name to it. From then til now ICO’s annual Furniture Fest has kept gathering wind in her sails.

What’s more (in the perky language of an ancient TV game show), The Price is Right.

October 3, 2024October 2, 2024

Outrageous

“In your religion, do you believe God could forgive him?”

The questioner’s face betrayed an intense curiosity. She wanted my answer. The surname of the person in question was bin Laden.

Shortly after the September 11 attack, American intelligence agencies identified lead players responsible for the terrorist carnage. The assault here on American soil – the most brazen and vicious since Pearl Harbor (1941) – guaranteed the enshrinement of another date to “live in infamy”. The principal schemer and mastermind was revealed to the public and in a matter of hours the name Osama Bin Laden became synonymous among many with unspeakable evil.

The young woman from the Far East, whose husband was pursuing an engineering degree at our campus, had directed the question my way amidst an informal visit on life and faith. Her knowledge of Biblical Christianity – its foremost tenet being sacrificial love – was foreign to her mind and she drove the question home.

Can God forgive the bin Ladens of the world?

I responded in a quiet tone. ‘Yes’. God’s mercy was somehow big enough to cover even an evil such as this. “If he were to confess and turn from his sin, yes he would find pardon”, I responded, hoping my voice carried a conviction I did not deeply feel.

The student spouse wouldn’t buy it, “No”, she replied, “such a wrong like this done by someone cannot be forgiven!” She was not to be persuaded otherwise. Not today, perhaps not at all.

For my own part, I frankly entertained a subtle wish in the moment that it might not be true, that even divine pardon had its limitations. As with the Prophet Jonah in the Old Testament with his condemning heart posture toward the barbaric city of Nineveh and its inhabitants, I could, at least momentarily, want God’s wrath directed toward particular elements of evildoers.

But then, where would that leave me and the rest of humanity. I knew, at least in my mind, the answer. Forgiveness, indeed full pardon, extends to any and all presenting themselves in contrite repentance. Some label such mercy as outrageous. And so it likely is.

“The wages of sin is death but the free gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. . . Christ suffered for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God.”*

September 26, 2024September 25, 2024

September Assault

Entering the quaint cottage off 15th and Memorial that Tuesday of early Fall, I assumed the small gathering would feature ‘the usual’. But calendars across the land had silently announced the dawn of another day. September 11, 2001, would never be remembered as an ordinary day.

Inside the cottage I was met with hurried motions of unusually somber hosts, urging me to join them before a television screen. Scenes of billowing smoke boiling from upper floors of one of New York’s twin towers left our small prayer group sitting bewildered. Our attention was held captive. We sat transfixed, silent.

Then, in disbelief, our modest gathering witnessed in real time an action so horrific that it could not in those fleeting seconds be adequately taken in.

While TV reporters – as confused as any of their viewers – fired off excited guesses, we beheld the unthinkable. The approach of airliner number two. Then a great burst of flame. More smoke. More pandemonium. America was under attack.

The cottage, cozy residence of senior-age friends Merland and Ann Severson, served for years as venue for Tuesday morning gatherings. The informal meeting featured friendly chitchat, followed by thanksgivings, updates and prayer for the international student ministry.

While we, in this abrupt moment carried scant details on the chaos unfolding in New York, our little band of believers carried a knowing conviction of something very concrete, at a deep, profound level. If there were ever a time for the Lord’s praying people to engage, the time is here.

September 19, 2024

Primed

Few accomplishments rival the relief of landing a job in one’s profession of choice soon after finishing years of intense work and study. While the news of gaining his first-ever gig – professorship in the energy industry – sparked real delight, our Southeast Asia friend Nguyen (now ‘Doctor Nguyen’) would soon meet with yet another thrill.

The past several years had, in hindsight, proved a watershed season for his young family. As newcomers to a strange, intriguing culture (America), the Nguyens had been befriended and afterward deeply comforted by a little band of Jesus-followers.

Along the way, they had permitted themselves to revisit and question some of their earlier assumptions about culture, faith – even foundational matters of life’s meaning.

In time they had yielded themselves to Christ, receiving him as Lord. They encountered his comforting presence, as well, during the grievous loss of their newborn. They utterly embraced Jesus as companioning master for all of life “here on out”. The twists and turns of those recent years – carrying forward in the real world in the company of faithful brothers and sisters – had, at the core, set the Nguyen household on a radical trajectory of purpose. With no desire to content themselves with a status-quo Christian faith, the couple brought a single-mindedness to walking closely with their Savior who had given – and continued giving – life to them. Whatever the future, the Nguyens were on mission to share the life with others.

As to that further thrill – the one beyond the teaching job.

The fresh position meant relocating from Tulsa to another city and state westward. After their move, Professor Nguyen and his wife had a surprise discovery. Their new place of residence was home to a large community (some ten thousand) of their own overseas countrymen. Of common culture and common language and common flavors suited to the Southeast Asian tastebud.

Ignatian Spirituality conveys a happy sentiment, “May the God of surprises delight you”.

A single small church existed to serve and reach out to this large ethnic population of the city.

It was to this environment the young professor was sensing a clear leading. Primed for worship and for witness, through community.

September 12, 2024September 11, 2024

Downstream Drama

The Board cast a unanimous vote. Sometimes such things happen.

The searing heat of Oklahoma’s mid-summer had eased and our annual volunteer-sponsored canoe float down the Illinois River was behind us. It had been a popular event (literally) navigated in the very heart of Cherokee country over past years. Our friend, Les, of Cornerstone Church had rounded up his latest band of water-lovers once again to help facilitate the day-long attraction. Water levels had risen higher than usual this season and fast-paced currents demanded extra vigilance. No one guessed what a close brush we would have with disaster.

A couple hours in, a chorus of sharp cries broke through the relative calm of easy laughter amidst frollicking splash wars of students and new friends The cries of alarm sounded from a place just downstream,

“Quick! Somebody, please hurry. It’s Sai and Rao”, a voice was shouting. “They are in trouble!”

The canoe transporting the pair of South Asia friends had instantly capsized within a narrowed passageway of especially rough waves. As it flipped, throwing the college students to the churning waters, the canoe spun sideways, now pinning the young men against a large downed tree trunk that had long obstructed a portion of the river’s pathway.

The force of the oncoming river pressed strong against the vessel which, in turn, pushed the flailing young men beneath the water again and again. Neither of the two, we later learned, were skilled swimmers. And, like bobbing floats yanked repeatedly downward by powerful arms, the canoers could barely steal a gulp of air in those rare and brief moments breaking through the surface.

Lunging headlong through the torrent, several swimmers reached them. Heaving the capsized vessel up and off the two in abrupt rhythms of Hurculean thrusts, the rescuers freed the men at last. Relief!

(Note: Counted among those volunteers showing up Summer after Summer were two young ladies yet in their teens – Tara and Elizabeth. Float ventures down the Illinois, along with other special outings, fueled their mission vision. Both these women, in time, would plunge into the rigorous work of literacy development, making their presence and skills known in areas of the world void of adequate service in this field. Elizabeth and Tara would each offer up years of service – right into the present – serving full time in linguistics vocations. Advancing literacy and Bible translation, stretching to remote regions of the earth.)

Meanwhile, following a certain drama-filled August Saturday, our ministry’s Board of Directors came easily to their unanimous and unchallenged consensus.

Canoe excursions suspended, till further notice.

September 5, 2024September 4, 2024

Barometric Pleasure

Retired television personality Don Woods stood there smiling, relaxed before the mic.

“Back in my earlier days as a TV weatherman”, he began, “our radar technology was nothing like we enjoy today.”

Among our Thursday luncheon guest speakers over the years, we managed to garner an occasional sampling of hometown celebrities. Don fit the bill.

For decades Don had garnered an impressive viewer following, largely due to the presence of his adorable stick cartoon character – Gusty. Every evening as the cameras rolled Don would offer up the coming days’ forecasts while simultaneously sketching an action scene featuring Gusty – wind, ice storm, lightning, sunshine. Gusty’s actions reflected the nature of whatever conditions might lie ahead. We hoped too, for the benefit of our students (nearly none of whom had heard of an Oklahoma twister), that Don’s talk could include a cautionary element, given our spot in the heart of Tornado Alley.

Picking up on his radar theme, Don Woods went on,

“One morning in the dead of winter I arrived at my office to be greeted by my boss, the KTUL station manager. “’Don’”, he said, ‘we just got a call from one of our viewers. Says he has a request,” ‘Would you please have your weatherman come out to my house and shovel the six inches of ‘partly cloudy’ off my driveway!’”

For our students coming from regions of the world where snow never fell, the account required a little explaining.

Along with being a popular meteorologist, Don was a follower of Jesus. He had brought to the luncheon a collection of small, illustrated gospel booklets of his own creation. Fittingly, the illustrations featured images of his little sidekick Gusty.

August 29, 2024August 28, 2024

Curious Coincidence

Home from the whirlwind prayer journey and recovered from a jet lag episode worthy of a Guinness Book entry, I answered our kitchen phone.

“Hi Jerry, and welcome back to the States!” The party on the line with warm Pennsylvania voice was primed to offer intriguing news.

She and her husband had committed to pray for our team in far-off China throughout our just-completed two-week prayer-walking venture. During that fortnite, they received a surprise phone call from the adult son of a Chinese friend from long ago. The father was a former international student befriended by the American family those years before.

“I am serving in government and am now in your state leading a delegation of other officials from my province”, began the caller.

“I have a request, please. May I bring our group of twenty to learn something of your American religion? May we gather somewhere so that somebody of your choosing* may share with our delegation on the topic of Christianity?”

“Certainly, of course”, came the reply.

My PA friend’s mind raced. She and her husband had been praying intently for the precious people of this young man’s homeland – and specifically for the very province he and his accompanying cadre represented.

The visit was made and a culturally-clear presentation on the story of creation, redemption and of life lived in Jesus given. Printed resources in their language, including a Bible for each of the twenty, were presented to an enthusiastic, grateful company of visitors.

It happened that the presenter was son to missionary neighbors of ours in outback Africa of the early 1970s.*

“God, this deep, deep wisdom? It’s way over our heads. We’ll never figure it out.” Romans 11:33 Msg Bible

August 22, 2024August 21, 2024

Street Beat

One of the most astonishing episodes of my life happened in 1995, stemming from a phone call from New York’s Lake Ontario region.

“Hi there Jerry, this is David Spencer. Would you like to go to China?”

David’s grandfather had long ago pioneered the mission agency through which we had served in Africa through our younger years. David was in pursuit of friends to pull together a low-profile short-term prayer team.

From the early 1970s a phenomenon (tagged later on as ‘Prayer Walking’) had been evolving, expanding its reach year after year. No single group or organization or church had a corner on this partnering-with=God practice. Prayer-walkers – hundreds, then later on thousands of small bands of intercessors donning all manner of footwear – had been taking to the streets all across broad sectors of the globe. Missiologists, evangelists and church planters took note, sensing that a burgeoning prayer movement was clearly afoot. The work of a sovereign, compassionate, pursuing God.

By the 1990s bands of such purposeful intercessors (Jesus-followers directing their praying outward toward the needs of others) had lined up at airline ticket counters. It was as though the world’s nations, many of them hosts to entire people groups still uninformed of the existence of Jesus, had seized the hearts of these travelling travailers.

Our prayer-journeying team (of Canadian and American heritage) numbered twenty and rangwd in age from 19 years to 81.

From our Hong Kong Port of Entry where orientation sessions were taken in through the fog of jet lag, we navigated thousands of miles by train, plane and automobile, by country bus and the occasional rickshaw. Add to this the mile on mile prayer-walking stints along strategic venues of five ‘gateway cities’, the occupants of one such urban center numbering sixteen million strong. Indeed, no town whose sidewalks welcomed the touch of our collective shoe leather boasted populations of less than three million.

An eye-opening, soul-stirring adventure of a lifetime.

Soon, I would take in a piece of news from a Pennsylvania farming community set to catapult my mind to jaw-dropping wonder. Leaving me happily puzzling in the general direction of the heavens,

What manner of God are you?

August 15, 2024August 14, 2024

Aha Moment

“When we laugh, our brains release feel-good chemicals that enhance attention, memory, and creativity*”

International students coming in from across the globe, many of them sporting proper names that are both tongue-twisting and truly foreign to the Western ear, elect to adopt names common to North America. From early on Xianghui, aka ‘Paul’, together with his wife and two young sons, endeared themselves to the community. One memorable scene in the life of this electrical engineering student featured a common garden vegetable. It happened on a Thursday at mid-day.

For the weekly FIL (Free International Lunch) for which my wife had pulled together a cadre of Rock Star kitchen volunteers, we rolled out a special feature. Christening it the “English Slang Expression of the Week”, the skit-based treat soon captured the attention of student diners frequenting the downstairs buffet every seventh day.

This Thursday I conscripted our friend Paul to lend his talents in unveiling the day’s idiomatic treasure. Tossing him an unpeeled potato, I signaled to the long sofa with its vinyl black cover resting just inside the room’s entrance.

“Once the students are settled in with their plates of food, just stretch out over there,” I coached Paul who happily complied.

At the key moment, taking up a mic, I directed a sharp glance to Paul who lay there stretched out facing the ceiling – repeatedly tossing the veggie upwards and catching it. “Hey, there, Paul!”

The students all turned his way.

“What is it you are doing over there?!”, I asked in mock surprise.

Paul’s response was perfect, “Oh. . . not much of anything, Jerry. . . just being a Couch Potato!”

It was in such moments that a line from the ministry’s official Mission Statement easily sprang to mind.

(We exist) “to meet practical needs of international students”

The linguistic “pinch of humor” supplied just the right luncheon seasoning.

August 8, 2024August 7, 2024

Traction

A long Obedience in the same Direction.

Eugene Peterson’s book title strikes a chord in the heart of any who long for a joyous, unmasked walk with the Lord.. Apprenticeship to Jesus, while not for the faint of heart, yields dividends worthy of whatever time, effort and steady believing are called for.

Journeying with my ragamuffin C.R. buddies in the care of Roger’s guidance resulted in my celebrating more than one ’Twelve-step completion day’ event. I had been called upon in each of the nine-month-long treks to go toe-to-toe with an artificial defense mechanism. Denial. Some counselors contend that patterns of denial serve as a means for the brain to justify one’s addictive actions. I resonate. But am amazed at the power of raw honesty when embraced over the long journey of transformation.

Once an esteemed leader who had given many decades in godly service was approached by a young man with a question. He hoped to glean wisdom from the Christian sage regarding the pervasive fight against sexual sin. “Dr. D”, he asked, “could you tell me at what age a man moves beyond having to resist the pull of temptation?”

The minister (now in his eighties) responded with a query of his own, “Young man, once you learn the answer to that question, would you please inform me?”

Professor Willard of USC makes a masterful case in understanding that “grace is for whole life and not just for forgiveness. Grace is God acting in one’s life to accomplish what one cannot or will not do on one’s own. Grace is not opposed to effort, but to earning*”.

Leaning in to embrace and act upon such truths – continuing my pilgrimage in wholeness – brings immense assurance. Praises ever. To the divine father, to Jesus the beloved Son, and his indwelling Spirit.