Wired within the inner being, the soul of the inner man, a need to know of a greater power than himself. On other commentaries, I have talked about various religions of the world, my inability to understand them. Perhaps it would have been different if I had been raised in a Buddhist or Hindu home, or a family that carried offerings of food to a monkey temple (Asian temples where monkeys are worshiped).
In a country guest house in Sri Lanka, I was awakened very early each morning by a brass band leading a precession of worshipers, carrying food to the monks at a nearby temple. Just as with mothers throwing their babies off the top of a temple to satisfy a ritual of worship, I cannot understand this. God has not given me the ability to understand this, except in the light of my own spiritual enlightenment...studying the laws of the ancient Jewish people, preliminary and leading to the establishment of the Christian church.
When you read in the Old Testament about the sacrifice of animals, bullocks, rams, goats, sheep without a blemish...their requirements to offer the very best of a flock, sometimes 203 a week, in observance of feast days and tithing, it occurs to you that these people: poor, needing every animal to survive, and God requiring their very best, one without a blemish. Human nature would dictate that you sacrifice crippled runts, that these people were absolute “nuts”, religious fanatics, or that they actually believed and sought righteous justification in their worship. Think of a priest, before a stone alter, blood soaked animals, and him lighting a fire to burn them. Human reasoning would say, this is a “nut” ritual. anymore nutty than a child or woman, explosives strapped under clothing, walking an congested area, blowing up everyone.
You don't have to study the Bible, just secular history and secular archeology books will teach you that there were 22,000 oxen and “sheep without number” sacrificed at the dedication of Solomon's temple. Until this very day, considered the greatest building ever built, estimated at perhaps a hundred billion. This building built without the sound of hammer or saw, covering 13 acres, the Cedars cut in Lebanon, all timber to exact specifications, floated in the Mediterranean and hauled over land to Jerusalem. We still know the exact number of men cutting trees, transporting the timbers, working on the temple, even the value of the gold in the temple. Even so, there is still debate concerning whether Solomon, son of King David, wisest and wealthiest man who ever lived, was even saved.
So it is today, those of us who give, intentionally, cheerfully, hilariously, to God...the tithe, offerings, one can give without loving, but one cannot love without giving. The essence of Christianity is Christian giving, the offering, the truest worship. Many who give, who have so many needs in life, like the ancients, are considered “nuts”, fanatics. Most Christians have heard of R.G. LeTourneau, billionaire manufacturer of earth moving equipment, who is known for giving 90% of his income to God's work. You cannot out give God, and I truly believe that God will bless your gifts, as well as you as a giver. This is the only place in God's word that God has challenged us to “prove' Him: every Christian who knows the thrill of returning to God a portion of that which is given to him, knows what I am talking about. Whether you give 10% or not, God owns 10% of everything you have.
The best way I know that you can have the assurance that God exists, is in studying human beings who know that God exists, who prove it in their life activities. I was in the Congo, traveling from Goma to Bukuvu, even then, thirty years ago, the Islamic fanatics were trying to recapture this country which had stumbled out to God, many years earlier, through through the missionary zeal of George Greenfield and other. Greenfield had buried a wife and three children on the banks of the Congo river, as undaunted, he was determined to bring the message of Jesus Christ to Africa. Just 100 years ago, at Goma, a choir of 10,000 Congolese Christians sang, “All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name” at his funeral. Since then, as in Rwanda and Uganda, Tutsi and Hutu, and until this very day, warfare between Muslims and Christians continues.
Bridges had been destroyed on the desolate Bukovu roadway, a Catholic priest driving a pick-up truck, four dying AIDS victims in the rear of the truck with a nanny goat they were milking for nourishment, talked with me about the plight of this beautiful, yet corrupted country. A country, like the world, debauched by Satanic forces, on the grace of an real and sovereign God could cause any man to give his life in such endeavor, this Catholic priest or George Greenfield.
If a Muslim mother names her son Mohammad, he is assured of heaven. I understand Islamic bombers are assured of heaven, simply by killing themselves and others. There is much about Islam, Confucius, Buddha I do not understand, but I have made an attempt to understand Christian martyrs. To whom much is given, much is required, I know that I cannot think of greater giving than the giving of God. God gave His only Son, and His only Son, has given us live. Not only an abundant life now, but eternal life.
There have always been pretenders, posers, they know who they are. Your faith demands trust in time, talent, treasure. Just as before the very foundation of the earth, many of us were chosen, elected, Christ, paying with His Own Blood for our sins and our sicknesses. Imagine living in a communist country, risking your life and your family's, for the cause of Christ. I met several Christians in communist China, Christians live and multiple in communist North Korea. I met old Christians in Russia, who have lived and multiplied under Bolshevism.
As a university student, I paid my way through many years, working at night, so I could go to class during the day. Also, I sold Bibles door to door during the summer months. In small towns I would select a boarding house where working people stayed. Ms. Lula's house was such a place, rooms rented to highway workers. Her large house was full, so she put me in a room next to a shed in the backyard. She prepared meals for all of these men, packed each a lunch. Mr. John, her second husband (her first husband had been killed as a young man), worked in construction and usually did not get home until very late. Two granddaughters lived with her, their father, Ms. Lula's son had been killed in a vehicle accident. By world standards, she had had a hard life, but you would never know it from her. She said, “God's mercy is new every day, He does not get angry with me because He has already forgiven me for all of my sins. I find something good to do for someone everyday, if I cannot say something good about someone, I say nothing.” I noticed early, that every night when Mr. John got home from work, she would have several boxes ready for him to take to certain places in the town and nearby countryside. I learned that she prepared food everyday for the sick of the community. Back then, there were no meals on wheels, very little welfare help. Ms. Lula had her own welfare organization.
In raising her granddaughters, in sending out food to the needy and the sick of the community, in being a living testimony to the many people who found refuge in her home. Her life, like the smoke from the burned sacrifices offered to God by the ancients, were a sweet flavor to God.
Ms. Lula loved religious music, kept Christian radio stations on in her house all the time. If there were a revival or tent meeting anywhere in the area, she made sure that she and I went. Ms. Lula had a real strong alto voice, everyone there knew she was in the meeting. The best thing she ever said to me, I was going home for the weekend, she said, “tell your mother, son. She did a good job.”
No comments:
Post a Comment