Sustenance

I am thankful for green pastures.
My souls needs to stand again beside still waters
and once again hear the voice of my beloved Shepherd.

Too long, too far, and too many days
have I struggled along.
Peace, rest, sustenance for a wearied soul -
a need, a song.

In these scant few hours of rest
my struggles have ceased and I find again
the sure footing of faith.

A Unique Moment of Baptismal Celebration

"If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come!" 2 Corinthians 5:17

Baptism is always a powerful time of celebration, worship, and remembrance for me. I never baptize without remembering my own baptism at the age of 8 years. I vividly recall each detail of that momentous moment. I remember Charles Langston, my pastor, asking if I had placed my faith in Christ Jesus and my affirmative response. I recall him gladly stating that because of my profession of faith he was baptizing me his "little brother" in the name of the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit. I remember being plunged under the water and the thrill of being lifted again from the water. My life has never been the same. I was a believer before I was baptized and this event served to firmly fix this decision in my life.

Sunday morning I had the unusual pleasure of baptizing father and son together. They had both experienced baptism before but it was simply an exercise in getting wet. You see, they were not believers at the time they were first "dunked." The difference on this Sunday was not the quality of the water or the potency of any words this Shepherd spoke (as opposed to the words the pastor who had baptized them spoke), no, the difference was the condition of the heart of these men. On this day they entered these waters as new men; men who had placed their faith firmly and finally in Christ Jesus as their sole hope of salvation. What occurred in these moments of celebration, as they publicly professed their faith to those who were gathered, was a moment filled with spiritual potency and significance for all.

As each man rose from the waters applause erupted through the sanctuary in celebration of God's mighty and mysterious working in these lives. I am humbly grateful for the privilege of being present at such a moment.

About the Photo

This bell tower belongs to the Cades Cove Primitive Baptist Church now preserved in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Though now nothing more than a museum it stands as a continuing testimony to the faith of the people who settled this beautiful valley in the southern Appalachian mountains. In fact, driving the 11 mile Cades Cove loop is something of an annual pilgrimage for my family and a stop at this church is a must on our trip. My Beloved is drawn to the cemetery as it chronicles the difficult and tragic lives of those who braved the wilderness to carve out a life. I am magnetically drawn to the edifice that once housed a thriving congregation.

As I sit in one of the rough pews in this little structure I am awe struck by a people compelled to invest energy in building such a place when it took such an immense effort to simply survive. Why would they do such a thing? Why not simply worship in homes or not at all?

Is it possible that their connection to the land instructed them about a deeper dependence?

Is it possible that this desperate group of pioneers was right in exerting unusual extravagance in a decidedly utilitarian existence to build a bell tower, not to outshine the Methodist's across the holler but to remind them to look up every now and then? Something tells me that this is near the mark. In lives marked by the steady rhythms of the seasons and the regular rhythm of work-6-days-and-rest-1 this tower served to guide them through each change and each fresh tragedy with the steady sureness of God.

I sit in that now empty church and strain to hear the hymns of praise being sung and the words of truth being proclaimed. Alas, there is only silence now. But in the stillness the voice of God whispers, "I AM." That marvelous bell tower continues to point heavenward, drawing the eyes of road weary tourists to look above the frustrations of traffic, noisy kids, flat tires, and the need to use the bathroom to consider the God who sustained these so long ago. Doubtless, some few stop long enough to hear.

Wiersbe on Worship Watching

"Whatever we watch on television, including a religious service, we watch in an entertainment context. No matter what the program is, even a devastating documentary, we don't take it too seriously. Why? Because the world of television is not 'real'

"Now we can begin to understand why television is a threat to Christian ministry: ministry isn't supposed to be entertainment, and a preacher isn't supposed to be a performer. True ministry implies involvement: We're worshiping in the holy presence of God, and we're obligated to hear God's Word and obey it. When we put religion on TV, a subtle force goes to work that transforms everything. The viewer does not attend the same service as the people in the sanctuary or in the the TV studio."

Warren Wiersbe, The Integrity Crisis