GLUE

Then and Now, Immanuel

For the past 17 years, my father-in-law, Warren Brown, has been the pastor of Bethel Community Church in Washougal, WA. And for two of those years just prior to our move to Little Rock (1991-1993), I served as the youth pastor at Bethel while completing an M.Div. equivalency at Western Seminary in Portland, OR. In time, the ministry grew to attract many kids from the surrounding area including one I’ll call Matt.

Matt was always squirrely, very likely ADHD before such a diagnosis became wide-spread. In many ways, however, he was a typical boy, though one it seemed obvious to me headed for trouble; particularly in relation to the opposite sex. Unfortunately, I left for Arkansas just before his junior year and before such a time as I could, perhaps, have helped to prevent the inevitable. In fact, once through the years, I heard of Matt and of his unhealthy involvement with a young woman who had attended our group.

Nearly fifteen years have gone by. Yet this past Sunday, I again saw Matt. In church. At Bethel. Though now with a bearded face and three children in tow, I immediately recognized him as the kid I once knew. And a brief exchange after church confirmed what I had suspected; years of use and abuse of women. He told me that he had made many mistakes through the years and more than that, had lived an “evil” life. One year ago, however, he hit rock bottom. The trust of his wife had been completely eroded and she filed for divorce, one that is still pending. It had been for him the proverbial wake-up call, one that beckons a boy to become a man – and it was obvious, Matt had accepted the challenge. Yes, the experience had rekindled a latent faith in God and with a sincere, repentant heart Matt is truly a new creature in Christ, as confirmed by all who attend the church.

So the next day, sitting with my large extended family at the Christmas Eve service, I couldn’t help but notice Matt … alone … and on his knees in prayer as communion was being served. It was a picture of God’s mercy and grace poured out on one, like me, so undeserving. And like the woman caught in adultery, it’s clear that Matt has not only received forgiveness, but has recognized the gift that it is … freedom from guilt and shame: release and hope to go and sin no more.

Deeply moved, I recognized Christ there with Matt that evening, kneeling with him right there in the pew. So I left my seat and family, knowing they would understand, to go and be with them both. And together we wept; tears of sadness, tears of joy. Together, we took communion and prayed. Together we experienced, Immanuel, God with us.

It is, of course, for this very reason, the Christ child was born - to save us all from sin and shame. To restore in us innocence. To renew in us hope.

This is, after all, what Christmas is all about.

When Zack Became a DeYmaz

Sure, family is something we are all born into, as last names attest. But when do our children truly become like us? To be clear, I am not speaking of mere behavior or genetics. Rather, my concern is with essence and character. Indeed, how and when are children prepared to bear the standards of the family name?

More on this in a moment.

But here, I digress to confess that through much of the fall, I have been somewhat angry with God. In large part, my frustration relates to the fact that just over two years ago, God clearly led Linda and I to transfer our son, Zack, from one school to another prior to his 10th grade year in high school. After nine years in one environment, however, it was not at all an easy thing for Zack to do, or an easy calling for us, as his parents, to embrace. And since then, Linda and I have dealt often with feelings of self-doubt, regret and guilt (false though it may be). Certainly the maturity “beyond his years” that Zack's displayed throughout this time made such feelings more manageable. Indeed, Zack has made the most of his experience, with rare complaint, and become a man in the process.

So why my unresolved tension?

God never told me why. That is, Why the move? Why the emotional price and pai?, Why (seemingly) so little to show for obedience, etc.? Is there no relief? Is there no reward?

The fact is, I have just never understood the move. Until recently - finally – when God spoke in the middle of a November night, clear as a bell.

He simply said, “Tonight I’m going to tell you why.”

In spite of the hour, I quickly recognized this to be one of “those moments” and immediately God had my attention. He said,

“You and Linda – your passions and life values, your marriage and ministry – are defined by three words: faith, courage and sacrifice. And it’s through the experience at Robinson that I have infused these same traits in him. It’s there that I made Zack a DeYmaz.”

In a moment, my angst was turned to peace and since then, I have not looked back. Yes, there is a God … and I am not Him. Indeed, it is He who is answering our prayers to turn my son into a man, and more than that, into a follower of Christ, part of the family.

So at this moment, I’m sitting by a warm fire, high on a mountain in the log home of my in-laws in Washington State overlooking the beautiful Columbia River Gorge and majestic Mt Hood, just outside of Portland, Oregon. This year, the entire family is gathered here for Christmas … and for one more thing.

In a few days, some of the men of the family – Great Grandpa Dr. Willard Aldrich (99), his son, Dr. Tim Aldrich, Zack’s grandpa, Dr. Warren Brown, and my brother-in-law, Mark Averill – who have all devoted their lives to pastoral ministry and Christian service, will gather to commission Zack in prayer as a right of passage just prior to college. Each will speak to from their own perspective concerning the practical relevance of these traits for a significant life. The, following prayer, I will present Zack with a gift of tribute to mark the moment: his own football jersey from his senior year at Robinson - the one with the name DeYmaz on the back just over the number 7 - framed in a shadow-box. And below the jersey, three words inset …

Faith. Courage. Sacrifice.

Words that define who Zack is. Words that define who we are and what it means to be a DeYmaz.

You Tube Promo w/ Dr. George Yancey and Senator Mark Pryor

Here's an informative, three-minute media piece featuring myself, Dr. George Yancey and U.S. Senator Mark Pryor, recently put together by Leadership Network for distribution among pastors, educators and church leaders throughout North America and beyond. In fact, I have already heard from ministry leaders in Australia and New Zealand!

Following your own review, I would greatly appreciate you forwarding the link to those within your own sphere of influence. And thanks in advance for doing so!

Outreach Magazine Just Called ...

Seems my book is reviewed in their cuurent issue. Read Tamara Rice's review from the November/December 2007 edition of Outreach Magazine.

A Lessson in Cross-Cultural Competence

The following story is exerpted from the book, Building a Healthy Multi-ethnnic Church. I'm certain this is one you'll want to pass along to others!

"Not long after Mosaic moved into the old Wal-Mart building, we recognized that the time had come to buy chairs for the congregation. Having met for eighteen months in the sanctuary of an existing church, we had never needed chairs. Following the move, however, members of our church were asked to bring their own chairs to worship each week; and this they did, carrying them in one way or another like parents to a soccer game or families to a picnic. Most often, these chairs were the kind that easily fold open and break down, the ones that are carried in a little bag or stuff sack. Some of them even had footrests and cup-holders. I’ll never forget one woman who was pregnant at the time; she lay back in a chair, listening to the sermon with her feet propped up, sipping water from a large container through a straw!

"Having determined to buy four hundred chairs, we ordered one chair as a sample to show the congregation. One Sunday morning, I put it up on the platform and explained that we would need to collect $25 from every person in order to cover the cost of the chairs. I added that our staff liked both the look and the feel of the chair and had even tested it out earlier in the week. “You know,” I said, settling comfortably into the chair, 'it feels pretty good to my buns!' When I did, the congregation laughed a bit, so I went on to milk the moment. 'In fact, not only have I sat my buns in the chair, but most of the staff has sat their buns in the chair. And they, too, think it feels pretty good!' More laughter. 'Now some on our staff have bigger buns than others,' I said, “but even the biggest buns among us agree. So after the service, why don’t you come and sit your buns, big or small, in the chair and tell us what you think!'

"By this time, the congregation was fully animated, as I probably used the word buns six or seven times for comic effect. Yes, everyone in the room—the Hondurans, Guatemalans, and Cubans, those from the Middle East, Europe, and Africa—were all fully engaged and laughing—everyone, that is, except the Mexicans. No, they were not at all amused. Although my comments had been simultaneously interpreted into Spanish, apparently something had been lost in translation!

"Now Inés Velasquez-McBryde, Mosaic’s Director of Cross-Cultural Ministries, is a very skilled interpreter. Having grown up in Nicaragua, she began translating English to Spanish at the age of eleven, serving alongside her father in working with North American mission teams coming into the country. She is much more than a translator; she has an excellent command of common language, as well as theological concepts. On this day, however, even Inés was to learn something new!

"Following the service, one of the Mexican women frantically approached Inés and, grabbing her by the arm, said, 'Don’t ever say that word again!' Her tone of voice told Inés that something was the matter. After some discussion, the woman fi nally calmed down but only when she realized the problem. You see, in translating the word buns, Inés had used the term nalgas, which in most countries throughout Central and South America carries, in tone and tenor, a force equivalent to the English term buns. Yet in Mexico, the term is more vulgar; it’s equivalent to the English word ass!

"Now I want you to imagine for a moment, your pastor getting up on a Sunday morning and saying, 'You know, this chair feels pretty good to my ass! In fact, not only have I sat my ass in the chair, but most of the staff has sat their ass in the chair, as well. . . . Now some on our staff have bigger asses than others, but even the biggest asses among us agree! So after the service, why don’t you come and sit your ass, whether big or small, in the chair and tell us what you think.'

"This is exactly what the Mexicans heard me say that day! For within the Spanish language, there are variations in dialect, word meaning, and usage across regions, countries, and continents. Fortunately, the Mexicans forgave us, and through this experience, we learned a valuable lesson in pursuit of cross-cultural competence.

"The understanding we need to be effective in a cross-cultural environment is gained through experience and interaction with diverse people, especially with those who are one in the Lord. To build a healthy multi-ethnic church, then, we must commit ourselves to the pursuit of cross-cultural competence, whether that means becoming profi cient in the idiosyncrasies of language or the ins and outs of customs and traditions different from our own. Once acquired, cross-cultural competence allows us to interact in a more informed and effective way with others of varying ethnic or economic backgrounds. Though the challenge is formidable, the journey to acquire it, as we have seen, is not without its lighter moments! Indeed, in many ways cross-cultural competence is more caught than taught."