Naked by T. Lynn Caldwell

I saw a naked man during my first trip out of the United States.  I was college-age and sitting alone in a hot tub at a nice spa/hotel in Europe.  The naked man (very handsome) chose to change clothes without closing a door.  Immediately, I closed my eyes out of respect for this gentleman who was obviously not aware of my presence.  I was having many conflicting thoughts.  Frankly, I really wanted to look!  “These are the moments that test our integrity,” I said to myself.  I peeked.  Oops, still naked, and I closed my eyes once again.  “This vacation just went from really good to great!”  I said to myself with a smile on my face and eyes still closed.  I was trying to do the right thing. 

Now beyond the age of 50, if I were in the same little predicament again, I would probably just laugh and applaud.  I have lost some of the sincere earnestness of youth in exchange for an opportunity to make fun of a naked guy.  This is not a good example of maturity’s effect upon me.  In some ways, age has made me unimpressive and careless.  Sometimes this worries me.  At this stage in life I’m not so much afraid of what I might see as what I am seeing and just carelessly missing/misinterpreting altogether. 

It is sad but true that long years, as well as a measure of success and privilege in our lives, block us from really SEEING, and empathizing with, the predicaments of others.  Sometimes in middle age, an armchair quarterback mentality takes hold, and we pronounce judgments on the situations of others using OUR life experiences rather than a serious consideration of THEIR life experiences.  Or, even worse, we see and truly understand the difficulty of someone else and just say to ourselves, “Well, that’s a shame,” and walk away.  We accept the tragedy and brush it aside because, after all, it’s not happening to us, and that’s just life.  Privilege and success allow us to do this.  And, most tragically of all, it also allows us to be the source of another’s difficulty with little, if any, internal or external accountability.   We become unimpressive AND powerful; a bad combination. 

I believe the Florida Hospital Church is on the verge of new and exciting ministries that will serve some very challenged populations in Central Florida.  We may wind up serving the emotionally and psychologically naked of the earth that have experienced the worst of our society.  How will we prepare our church community to minister in new and challenging areas?  Our first step toward successful ministry is to look within ourselves and examine what the years, the successes, and the privileges have made us—both impressive and unimpressive.  Then, choose to be thoughtful, prayerful, and intentional as we serve diverse populations.

T. Lynn Caldwell

Guest blogger and Member of FHC

Some Questions on "Thanks" by And McDonald

Might the best response to God simply be, “Thanks?” 

What part does their choice play in a child becoming a child of their parent?

Don’t parents decided to become parents by an active choice or by not taking steps to not become parents?

And isn’t adopting a child a clear parental choice?

In either case, isn’t the root point the decision of the parent, not the child?

So why is it that we spend so much weight on our “believing,” our “accepting,” our “having faith in,” as the way we become God’s child? 

Jesus had life in himself, and this life gives light to everyone! When Jesus came, the world didn’t recognize him. To all who believed him and accepted him he gave the right to become Children of God!  Verse 13 says, “They are reborn! This is not a physical birth resulting from human passion or plan—this rebirth comes from God.” - John 1

If the model is “rebirth” would the reborn have exactly the same say in “rebirth” as they had in their original birth? 

Can we push the analogy that far?

Have we creatures inserted ourselves too much into the creator’s process of rebirthing?

Is there some inherited tendency, evident in our primordial parents, which has become our human family’s heirloom? 

Is the “do it yourself” bent so strong in us that, regardless of God’s generosity and activity, we prefer attempting to do it our own way so we can get some of the credit?

How are we like an angry little kid who yells, “I didn’t ask to be born?”  

Do we imagine that not being birthed at all would have been a better decision? 

Back to the rebirth—is it clear or realistic to think that the one being reborn—re-birthed—is being acted upon, not doing the action?

If you only had a moment to introduce yourself to total strangers with whom you hoped to have an eternal relationship—what part of who you are would you reveal?

Wouldn’t it seem that God would, in this case, want to reveal his primary trait?

Isn’t God infinite?

Couldn’t he have kept us fascinated with revelations about himself and about science, and psychology, and astronomy,  and every topic forever?

So why does he choose to reveal as his primary trait “unfailing love and faithfulness”?

Isn’t this a contrast to all the misconceptions of God or the “gods”?

Aren’t they thought to be capricious, volatile, mean and vengeful when we mess with them?

Couldn’t Jesus have come down from the cross? 

Couldn’t he, in a word, destroy all his captors and mockers?

Does he stay on the cross to reveal his atoning, self-sacrificing, heart of unfailing love and faithfulness?

Can we believe the Creator so loves the work of his hands and mind that he would give up himself for his creation?

And is it audacious and blasphemous for us to make our part bigger than his?

Or, in humility, should we just say, “Thanks!”?

Andy McDonald

Leaving a Legacy by Greg Creek

My wife and I recently bought a new washer and dryer. A riveting open, I know. But for us, this was a big deal! This is the first time we’ve purchased a new set. We’ve owned used ones but, with a newborn and a dying dryer, we thought it was time. So, the delivery guys came and deposited them in all their pictured glory. One tiny problem – the dryer cord was too short to reach the plug! We ended up with a very expensive washer weight. 

It was 8:45pm, and the delivery guys had quite a day. I told them I could get the cord and put it in without any problems. They seemed skeptical, but in my head I was thinking, “Seriously, it’s just four little screws.” It was then I was reminded once again of the wonderful gift my grandfather had given me. 

My grandfather was an electrician for many years. Around the time he retired, my parents bought a new home, which included three rental mobile homes on the property as well. A myriad of electrical projects were spread all over the four residences, and my grandfather offered to come help. Upon his arrival, he quickly enlisted me to help him with all that needed to be done. 

Throughout those weeks, we replaced light fixtures, installed ceiling fans, ran new lights, replaced and installed new receptacles, and a bunch of other stuff I’m probably forgetting this many years later. But at 12 years old, this was pretty cool to be given an opportunity to participate. 

My grandfather didn’t just have me around as a tool fetcher. He was actually teaching me how to do things; I was the one doing the work. He would show me how to do something and then walk me through as he was doing it to make sure I got it. Then, he would turn the next one over to me. Project after project, I started learning more and more. 

My grandfather invested in me and taught me some really valuable parts of a trade. I will forever have that knowledge with me. In each of us, we have something valuable we can teach others. Maybe it is a trade like electrical work or plumbing, or maybe it’s a musical skill. It might even be something less tangible like having an upbeat attitude or teaching the importance of honesty. Whatever it is, I invite you to invest in someone. I invite you to so enrich the lives of those around you that you will forever be remembered. I invite you to make a difference. 

Greg Creek

Thoughts on Christian Music Education by Richard Hickam

I’m a music geek - always have been, always will be. One summer in the early 1980’s, Cohutta Springs Camp (a Christian youth camp in Northern Georgia) was experimenting with ideas for different summer camp themes, and they decided to offer a band camp. I was there along with my brother and about 15 others from different parts of the Georgia/Tennessee area who just couldn’t get enough wind instrument fun (though I suspect some were made to be there by their mothers).  It’s been that way my whole life. Late last night I was attaching velcro on various electric guitar pedals to stick them in a pedalboard. These type of activities happen regularly.  I’m 43. I still can’t stop experimenting with sounds and music and thinking about new ways to use them for God’s kingdom.

I wonder how many people reading this article were in a band, orchestra, or choir group in a Christian school.  I wonder how many are using what they learned in these institutions for kingdom growth today.  Bassoon offertory in church?  Doubtful. Singing for the widows, orphans, or prisoners? I don’t know. Christian institutions have taken cues from the public school sector in regard to repertoire, concerts, and tours. Those are not necessarily all bad things.  Students may play or sing all the way through graduate school . . . and then what? Many people stop after their student experience and never use their gifts again except for congregational or shower singing.

How do we transform thinking about learning music for art’s sake into using music as a lifelong pursuit for Christ?  How can we teach smaller musical groups that can be more useful for practicality in a variety of Christian experiences rather than focusing only on large group ensembles?  How can our tours that only visit Christian institutions instead witness to those who need to hear the message of Christ through song?

In my later years of teaching music, I was challenged to take my groups to orphanages, women’s shelters, schools for the mentally challenged, and a prison. As I made the shift away from visiting only Christian institutions and amusement parks, something inside my students and me began to change as well. A larger perspective on the ministry of Christ began to open up.

So, you’re not a musician, and what does this have to do with you? Well, each one of us has been given a gift, and we need to examine closely how we are using it. Merely tending the local flock might not be enough; there’s a whole world out there that is waiting to hear about Christ through what you have to offer.

So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God."--1 Corinthians 10:31

Richard Hickam

I Forgive You, Jesus by Tami Cinquemani

“Auntie, do you eat the chicken?”

“Yes, Honey, I eat the chicken.”

Heartbroken, my friend’s little niece’s lip trembled as she put on a brave smile, “That’s okay if you eat the chicken, Auntie.  I love you anyway.”

Ashley was four years old at the time.  Having been raised a vegetarian, her parents had been teaching her that she should not judge people if they ate meat.  This was very difficult for a young child with a tender and sensitive heart for all living creatures.

Finding out her favorite aunt “ate the chicken,” however, paled in comparison to when she discovered that Jesus “ate the fish.” Again, with brave determination to follow her parents’ counsel and not judge someone because of their diet, in her prayer before bed that night she said, “I forgive you, Jesus, for eating the fish.”

When my friend told me this story, I laughed.  It’s a precious story – because the heart of this little girl is so pure and so innocent that this was her sincere response to trying to get her mind around Jesus doing something that just seemed so inconceivable. Ah, children!  They say the darndest things, don’t they?

But wait a minute – don’t we do the same thing?  We may not be so bold as to come out and say it, but don’t we sometimes believe Jesus did the wrong thing? Isn’t it unimaginable to us that he did things like drink wine, party with sinners, slack off on Sabbath observance, fail to condemn homosexuals, obsess about serving the poor, and offer what seems to be pretty “cheap” grace?

How do I get my mind around Jesus telling me to “go and do likewise” (Luke 10:37) when what he did seems so inconceivable?  Maybe, like Ashley, I need to grow in my understanding of who Jesus is before I fully comprehend the perfect example he left for me to follow.

Tami Cinquemani