Doctoral Survey

This blog post is for my doctoral dissertation survey.  I'm looking for individuals between 18 and 30 years of age to help compare two presentations that have to do with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. You don't have to be a Christian to take this survey, in fact, I'm looking for those adventurous souls who are not. Your help and feedback would be greatly appreciated. The whole survey should not take more than 45 minutes and 25-30 minutes of that is clicking on and watching through my two Power Point presentations. Please be honest in your assessment but also respectful. I'm not trying to convert anyone or offend anyone. I'm just looking for some honest feedback on comparing the two presentations. 

Please review the overview and consent form.  You do not need to sign anything. The survey is an anonymous survey. You simply need to be aware of what will be taking place. 

Your first question will be a statement that you have read and do consent to take the survey and view the presentations. 

Thanks.

Daniel

Survey

Whoops...

Hi, all....

Many of you may have received a partial survey from me....It's a whoops....

My IT person was trying to move a survey from Google Docs into my blog and he apparently hit publish. 

But...be thinking of persons between the ages of 18-30 to take a religious survey for me. It will be coming on my next blog post. It's why I have been a bit absent on my writing of late.  Trying to get this doctoral thesis finished. 

So..disregard if you have received it and pray that I get this finished so that I can get back to my regular blog posts. 

Thanks for your patience. 

Daniel 

Water bucket

"I was all the time tugging and carrying water, but now I have a river that carries me."  Dwight Lyman Moody.  

D. L. Moody (1837 - 1899) has a great life story. Left without a father at the age of four, helping his mother and his eight brothers and sisters put food on the table was more important than education. Like my own grandfather, a sixth grade education was about all you needed. You could read, write, and do arithmetic; in other words, you could survive. Now it was time to get to work. 

He would leave his home for Boston, Mass. and his uncle's shoe store where he would find his talent as a salesman. He would also be led to a saving knowledge of Jesus by a faithful Sunday school teacher in the back of that store. 

Not long after, he felt limited and so left for the great city of Chicago. It was great in opportunity but horrid in corruption and morally bankrupt in character. He would write to his mother and describe the almost unbearable unChristian environment. But the smallest light is able to dispel the greatest darkness. 

He would start with showing the love of God to children of the street. At one point he had over 1500 children in his Sunday school program. He would teach them to read and write using the Bible and make sure that each child knew they were loved by God. 

He would become the head of the Young Men's Christian Association and head up an organization to minister to Confederate captured prisoners.  You would think that he would be pleased with all his accomplishments but instead he was tired and missing something. 

Two small old church ladies would sit in the front pew of his church on Illinois Street and pray through the whole service. One day he asked them what they were praying for. They said, "We are praying for you."  Mr. Moody replied, "Why don't you pray for the people." They said, "We are praying that you will be empowered by the Holy Spirit." He said, "I thought I had the power of the Holy Spirit." After all, he had the largest church in Chicago and an incredible influence in the city. But he knew something was missing. He had the Spirit [the water] but he was tired in spirit. He had been carrying the Holy Spirit instead of the Living Water carrying him. 

And so God helped him with his desire. He sent the Chicago fire and burned up everything that he had and owned. The house, the possessions, the church, the businesses that supported him -- all gone. He left for New York and as he walked on the city streets his attention was on one thing:  the filling, the empowerment of the Holy Spirit. Then one day on those city streets God revealed himself to his heart in such a way that he could not contain it.  His love was so strong that it overwhelmed him. Moody says that it was so overwhelming that he had to ask God to stop. The spiritual container was overflowing and could not contain any more. 

Moody said that his sermons were not any different; he did not present any new truths, but hundreds were converted.  It was after this that his soul was set on fire and God would use him in great ways in Great Britain and again back in the United States. 

My point is not to enter into a debate on what the filling of the Spirit means [some calling it the baptism of the Holy Spirit] but to address the fact that many, including myself, need to recognize good hearts with tired spirits from carrying the water. It was never God's intention for us to carry the water but that the water should carry us. 

This means that I need to put down the water buckets and get in the boat. It means that I need to put away my own agenda and desires and let God move me and carry me to the various divine destinations that he has for me. 

Are you tired in the Lord service? Perhaps your just doing too much and need to scale back. But perhaps you're doing the right things but in your own strength. Leave the buckets for the servants.  The boat is for the sons and daughters of God.  

Year of the Horse

Psalm 20:7, "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God." 

Last week began the new lunar year for those in Asia. For those of you non-Asians, the lunar year begins the reign of a new animal. Last year was the year of the snake. This year is the year of the horse. 

This year I have been entrusted to sing "Happy New Year" in Mandarin to the tune "O My Darling." Complicating matters, there seems to be numerous ways to say, "Happy New Year" in Chinese (both Mandarin and Cantonese). Once again I find myself in the position of public embarrassment, trying hard to be confident while internally wishing that I can get it out with an understandable mumble. 

As I selected the key verse for my closing "talk" I became acutely aware that I am often on the wrong side of this verse. It manifests when I am asked to do things outside of my comfort level. I trust in my chariots. I trust in my horses. It's why I worry about how this will all turn out in the end. At present my horses are all out to pasture and my chariots are in the shop for repair. 

Actually, I know in my heart that any attempt at speaking the Chinese language will be welcomed. Any time I have made an effort to move into my church family's cultural world it has been met with great appreciation. I just feel badly that I cannot verbally engage with them more regarding their "heart" language. God grant me the gift of tongues! 

Psalm 20 is a psalm that specifically speaks of saving the king, the anointed one. And in this psalm the people are not denying that chariots and horses are needed to win the battle. But they are conveying that at any given time there are actually two battles raging:  one physical and one spiritual. In the physical, the psalmist is recognizing that chariots and horses are only successful if they are the instruments in the hand of a much larger power. And without that much larger power it doesn't matter how many chariots or horses you have. Defeat will be coming your way.  

The Apostle Paul eloquently stated this in 2 Corinthians 10:3-5:  "For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does.  The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." The weapons of the Christian are prayer and the Word of God. 

I believe this psalm is teaching me that my ultimate strength, my ability to live victorious in this life must be found in the Lord. I am to use the gifts that God has given me to serve him and others well but in the end I need to realize that it is the Lord who will win the battle. It actually makes me appreciate my personal abilities more. They are the tangible instruments that God uses to actually fight the battle. A sword is simply a combination of metals, but in the hand of an expert swordsman, it is a deadly instrument. 

So if my Chinese comes out incoherent this Saturday look around for a little horse poop somewhere close by. It means that I have once again went to the stables rather than the Creator. The battle belongs to the Lord. 

Happy New Year!

Xin nian hao ya!

God, Have Mercy

I write today with a heavy heart. Last night while coming home from a meeting Deb and I were made aware that a 23 year old young woman that we knew was killed in an automobile accident. Her father is the new pastor of the church that I recently left and her mother was my secretary for a number of years. 

I have two adult daughters of my own that are not far from her age and so it gave me pause to think about life, death, and God's mercy and grace. 

St. Gregory Palamas, a 14th century bishop of Thessoloniki in Macedonia, taught his disciples to pray the Jesus prayer found in Luke 18:13.  "But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, 'God, have mercy on me a sinner." 

He taught that if one kept praying that prayer over and over, not in a mindless mantra but in a concentrated effort to assimilate the truth, that one could actually be brought into an experiential presence of the Lord. 

"God have mercy on me a sinner." After I prayed for comfort and strength for the family, those words came rushing in to my own soul. "God have mercy on me." I was essentially saying, "Please don't let that happen to me."  In my frail humanity I don't want to bear the pain of losing a child or a grandchild. But I was also saying, "Please help me to understand." 

When we cry out for God's mercy we are rightly saying that God has the right to allow these types of things to happen to us all. His children are not immune as we saw last night. But it doesn't preclude us from beseeching God's divine goodness and desiring to live a peaceful, non-tragic life. Human frailty as it is, however, we often look through the eyes of Job's friends in order to justify our perceived gift of mercy from the hand of God and in order to understand why tragedy happened to someone else. 

I remember the words of Jesus recorded in Luke 13.  

"Now there were some present at the time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. Jesus answered, 'Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way?  I tell you, no!  But unless you repent, you too will all perish. Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them -- do you think they were more guilty than all the other living in Jerusalem?  I tell you, no!  But unless you repent, you too will all perish."

Whether it is a car accident or cancer or a stroke or a heart-attack, or a brutal rape or murder...we live in a world where bad things happen to redeemed people. It doesn't mean that one is better than another; that one is worse than another. It falls within the providential mystery of God. And so we cry out, "God have mercy." 

I immediately prayed for my own children and grandchildren as if to imply that this will always keep at bay the tragedies of this world. I'm not saying that God does not honor prayers of protection and that we shouldn't pray for the safety of our families, but it is also not the magic shield either. If I miss a day of prayer...if I forget...and something happens...am I to blame?...am I to bear the guilt of the wickedness or pain that might enter my world? I think too highly of myself...as if the world rises and falls upon my desires and my humble requests. God have mercy. 

"Father, if it is Thy will, take this cup from me..."  Jesus prayed. And he was murdered. Am I not glad for this unanswered prayer? Do I not celebrate this act of evil?  Was it not for my good? Is this not the key?  Has God not shown us the reason for allowing such evil -- that good should come of it and that God might receive praise and glory?  God have mercy. 

God have mercy....and in the midst of the pain give us the strength to embrace your will. Perhaps we will never know the reason why but we can trust that it was for someone's eternal good, for His eternal glory, and a reminder that we should all, with deepest contrition and humility, be daily crying out, "God have mercy!" 

Silver and Gold

1 Peter 1:18-21, "For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver of gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect. He was chosen before the creation of the world, but was revealed in these last times for your sake. Through him you believe in God, who raised him from the dead and glorified him, and so your faith and hope are in God."

The Holy Spirit of God placed this divine passage upon my heart this afternoon. I believe that it was divinely placed there for my own benefit, but also for the benefit of others, that together we might be reminded to keep our eyes on Jesus this time of year. This seems almost incredulous. How can I not be reminded that Christmas is a time to remember the Christ. And yet year after year I am reminded that the Church herself falls prey to worldly indebtedness and bondage through  material pursuits. "Blessed is the one who gives" the Scriptures tell us...unless there is no reciprocation. 

I must admit that this temptation is getting easier to avoid the older I get. There isn't much that I need or want, at least anything that I cannot go out and buy for myself if the finances are present. I am less content with the stuff and seeking that which has a greater value to me. 


When I was a kid one of my favorite Christmas programs was Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. And one of my favorite songs was by folk-singer, Burl Ives, "Silver and Gold." 

Silver and gold

Silver and gold

Ev'ryone wishes

For silver and gold

How do you measure

It's worth?

Just by the pleasure it

Gives here on Earth

Silver and gold

Silver and gold

Mean so much more

When I see

Silver

And gold decorations

On ev'ry Christmas tree

Silver and gold

Silver and gold

Wise men brought gifts

To the mange I'm told

Mary was humble to see

Shepherds and kings

There on bended knees

It's silver and gold

Silver and gold

Feeling the world

With their lives

Silver and gold

How they shimmer

On ev'ry Christmas night

On ev'ry Christmas night

In this season of Advent (Coming) I am reminded that silver and gold have no value in themselves. It is only the value that is placed on them by humanity - either through their greed, their need, or their worship. 

Because they are precious metals, humanity, in their greed seeks to acquire them for the ease of life they will produce and for the power that they convey. 

Because they are valued metals they are useful in all kinds of instruments and equipment. They are being used to make our lives better and at times more pleasing. 

But because of the first two they should be put in their proper position at the feet of the dear Savior. For silver and gold could not buy us the pardon we seek. Silver and gold could not assuage the wrath of a Holy God for he created the very glittering veins in the earth. Anything of such value should be placed in its proper perspective; they are simply gifts of worship to lay before the King and Creator. 

I am reminded that their is something more precious, more powerful than any glittering stone found in this universe:  the blood of Jesus. It is that crimson flood that covers my sin. It is the staining fluid of life that in some miraculous way makes me white as the winter snow. 

As we are reminded this time of year of our dear Savior's first coming may we be acutely aware of his second. Not only was his birth preordained before the creation of the world but also his return. Will I be caught up in a world full of glittering silver and gold or will it simply remind me of the preciousness of my Lord?

The Oregon Trail

"...give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 

Our last Sunday in Alpena was filled with tears as we said good-bye to many who we had come to love and care for. We had a huge luncheon in the auditorium where we were able to celebrate and remember all that we had done over the past 12 years.

The highlight was a video that a Chinese church had sent to welcome us. It was a way that our church family in Alpena would always be connected to our new and future home in Oregon.

Deb had been ferociously packing up the rental house we were living in at the time. If you have ever moved you know the feeling of those last couple of days. You are trying to remember where everything is packed and it always seems to happen that you need something that has been packed away in some box somewhere. It is a picture of life in transition.

Tuesday comes and early in the morning I am down at the Penske truck rental place. We have a problem. They don’t have a car dolly to pull my car behind the truck. “We never received another one to give you,” they apologetically said. I thought to myself, “And the trouble begins….”

Oh, how little faith I had.

They quickly followed up and said, “We’ll have to upgrade you at our cost and give you a car port that you can actually load your whole car upon.” It wasn’t trouble that was to follow us; it was God’s blessings.

We had hired a loading company to come and help us pack up all our belongings.They too, were so gracious in giving us free boxes and actually packing things so that they would stay safe.

We packed up all the belongings that could go and by two o’clock that afternoon we were looking at Lake Huron and the city of Alpena for the last time.

I was thankful that I grew up on the farm. That big old 28 foot truck and trailer reminded me of hauling all those loads of grain to the farm or to the elevator, so I had a measure of confidence.

The diesel truck was a bit loud on the inside so I couldn’t turn the radio on and hear Deb at the same time call me on the two-way radios that we bought. It would make for a lengthy time of self-contemplation and singing to myself for three and half days.

When we hit Indiana to celebrate Thanksgiving with our children and Deb’s family the fog became so terrible that we could hardly see the road. In fact, I actually had to pull off the highway because I knew that their road was coming up but I literally could not see it. I had spent a good part of my adult life in that area and for the first time I felt lost. I eventually found the road and was never so thankful to get out of that truck as I did that night.

We enjoyed our family that Thanksgiving, said our goodbye’s, and looked for Interstate 80. It would be our friend all the way to Utah.

We were a bit worried about the drive across the country in the latter part of November. We have seen some pretty horrible winter storms that have rolled through the mountains and the prairies at this time of year.

Deb’s uncle, an over-the-road truck driver, was telling us all kinds of horror stories about getting stuck in storms and having to pull over for two or three days in out of the way places.

“You probably need chains to get over the mountains” he said.

I was thinking that maybe Deb and I could just drive down to Arizona or Texas, skip the mountains and wait for next spring. I didn’t realize that if you want to skip the mountains you would have to drive down to somewhere in southern Mexico and my Spanish wasn’t that good anymore.

Again my lack of faith was showing.

I didn’t have any chains for the truck and didn’t know where to get any at that short notice so went just headed out in faith.

We had planned traveling 3 12 hour days and one 8 hour day to get to our destination. Best Westerns became our home away from home as we made reservations at each place for our next Best Western destination.

Things we’ve learned along the way:

Nebraska is a very, very, very long and boring state.

Diesel for Penske trucks is often hard to find so start looking when your tank is half empty.

There is nothing in Wyoming except tumbleweeds and Cabelas Hunting Fishing store.

And make sure that your stuff is tied down on your truck if you’re traveling through the mountains.

We didn’t hit any snow in Wyoming but when we got up to the top of the continental divide we hit 50-60 mile an hour winds.

My hands hurt from holding on to the steering wheel so hard that day.

In front of us a pick-up with all kinds of camping gear went ahead of us that day. They forgot to tie things down as we dodged sleeping bags, clothing, and other assorted and lose things that continue to fly out of the back of their truck that day.

I also thought that I was going to have to have Deb tow me up some of those mountains. My foot was pushed as hard as it could go to the floor and I was racing up at a high speed of about 30 miles an hour. Coming down I was trying to remember how to use my brakes so that they wouldn’t burn up. I was also trying not to miss our next stop in Rock Springs.

We were getting travel weary and wondering if we would ever get there. And I had picked up an unwanted souvenir somewhere in the boring state of Nebraska – a head cold. We needed some encouragement, and God provided it in the most unique way.

Cynthia Acquino was a woman who attended our church in Alpena but who had family in California. She had just lost her husband to cancer and told us that she would find us and meet us on the way back to Michigan. So in Rock Springs, Wyoming, two native Hoosiers, were having supper with a former congregation member from Alpena, Michigan. It was as if God was saying to Deb and me, “Stay encouraged.  You’re almost there.”

At the end of our third days drive we entered into the great state of Oregon. I cheered in my truck cab, “We’ve made it.” “We have made it through the mountains and are now heading toward the left coast.”

I should have looked at the map to see how far I still had to go and what lay ahead.

The truck started to go up hill again and now I was driving in the dark...in the mountains…which I thought I had left. There is nothing worse than driving a big truck pulling a car up and down unfamiliar mountains at night.

When would this day be over?

We finally made it to our destination – Baker City, Oregon. We were both extremely tired and we were so ready to be at our new home. We ate a late supper and said to the waitress, “We’re out of the mountains, right?”

She paused.

Not a good sign.

She said, “I…don’t think so. In fact, the worst is yet to come.”

I didn’t sleep well that night. And…the temperature dropped down into the twenties.

If you don’t know what the means, it means that diesel trucks don’t like to start when its that cold unless they are plugged in over night – which ours wasn’t.

We ate a quick breakfast and I prayed, “Please God, start this truck.” It cranked over and groaned as if it were being punished for something. I think it was saying, “Leave me alone and wake me up in a few more hours.” But the second time she gave in and I kept my foot on that fuel pedal just in case she needed a little encouragement.

Deb and I headed out for our last leg at around 7 am. We started driving and Deb calls me on the radio. “I think our waitress lied to us.  If this is as bad as it gets we’re good.”

She didn’t lie to us.

The ascent began. Up and up and up we went and then we hit the sign across I-84.

“Caution:  Dense Fog alert”

“7% grade descent”

So in other words, I’m going to be going down a very, very steep mountain and I am not going to be able to see anything in front of me. Thank you, Lord.

We started the ascent and it wasn’t long before Deb calls me on the radio.

“Did you just see the sign?”

I said, “You mean the one that said, “Deadman’s Pass?”

She said, “Yes, that one.”

I said, “No, I didn’t see it and I don’t want to see it.”

I was never so glad to see Pendleton in my life.

It was flat. It was Indiana corn-field flat.

Yes….we made it.

Not quite.

We hit the wind tunnel called the Gorge, and then the traffic of I-5.

We finally turned into Forrest Grove Apartments in Tualatin. We arrived to an apartment that we had rented on the internet. We had never seen it before. But in all things God was good.

A year later and we can honestly look back and truly see how God was with us in every aspect of our trip.

We didn’t have any mechanical breakdowns.

We found fuel when we needed it.

We didn’t have any snow or heavy rains the whole time we went through the mountains.

The truck started every morning.

The apartment was perfect for meeting our needs.

We had wonderful brothers from CFBC to help us unload in about an hour or so.

And I was able to return that truck to Home Depot and go to bed an Oregonian.

And that was just the beginning of God’s blessings.

We have been here almost a year and there is not a day that we don’t get up and give thanks for being here in Oregon and here at CFBC.

Every Sunday as we turn east on Sherwood-Tualatin road we look for that clear sky and are reminded of just how big our God is as we gaze upon Mount Hood.

It is a great reminder of His mighty hand and why we are Thankful for his protection, provision, and His love today.