Local Church

The U.S. Religion Census just came out with their once-every-ten-year numbers trekking religious involvement state by state. A decade ago, the state of Washington placed 49^th (one position ahead of Oregon—we can’t beat them in football but we can beat them to the pew on Sunday morning). In 2000, 33% of our population claimed religious affiliation to a church, temple, synagogue, or mosque. Now we are in 45^th place as 34.6% of our residents are attending religious services—a whopping increase of 1.6%. For comparison purposes, the national average is now just under 50%.

What do we make of these numbers? Remembering that non-Christian groups are included (Mormons, Buddhists, Muslims, etc.) makes the percentage of those attending Bible believing churches much less. And then there is this development, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) grew by 50% in the past decade in our state. In 2000, there were only 49 Mormon congregations; that number has grown considerably since—they now have over 500. Muslims grew by 23% and Buddhists are also on the upsurge with close to 50,000 adherents. When you start peeling off some of the main-line denominations that play games with the authority of Scripture (endorse gay marriage, for instance) and are debating (and in some cases already denying) that Jesus is the only Savior—that 34.6% number is looking even more anemic. Should it be adjusted to single digits? Here is the cold reality, there aren’t very many evangelicals living in the state of Washington! Can you say mission field?

The local director of Associated Ministries also believes the 34.6% needs to be adjusted. He believes, however, it should be adjusted to include more. In his interview with The News Tribune (May 2, 2012), he said he believes the vast majority of people of faith in Pierce County have chosen not to join a faith community (and are therefore not included in the 34.6% figure). He goes on to say that these people experience their spirituality through personal devotions, in the environment, at book clubs or at the local coffee shop. “That’s the way it is here. People are looking for community. They’re just not looking for it inside a congregation’s door.”

What is troubling about the 34.6% number is that many included in it believe all is well with their soul because their “faith community” is included in the number. What is also troubling is that many not included believe their soul is well because they sip down a latte on Saturdays in a quaint coffee shop with friends discussing the most recent New York Times bestseller. It does matter that you belong to a “faith community”—but it also matters to which one.

I was so excited to get my first check, after all, I didn’t even own a bed. Rent was $525. When you divide that by the other five (all of us buddies who had just graduated from Pacific Lutheran University) each share was just $87.50 per month. But when you were just starting out, every dollar was significant. Besides, with six guys in one house, we knew we needed to save some money for a housecleaner every once in awhile (we hired a cheerleader once a month; she even brought us cookies—such a deal).

So when that first check came from the Bethel School District (I was a high school teacher), I scoured over every deduction. “What’s this, union dues? I didn’t join any union.” I would come to find out that every employee was in the union unless you opted out. And to opt out, you had to request a special “opt out form,” fill it out, send it via certified mail, and you could only do so during a one-week window during the summer. And as I recall, I had to snoop out all this information, too—no one provided it. The end result was that it was a really difficult process to get out of the union. The system was set up for you to be in it.

God has given directives to His church and to the believer. There are certain things we are told to do. The church is to preach the Gospel and administrate the sacraments, for example. The believer is to love, serve, forgive, and so on. The Bible is full of such commands. One that’s on the list is to take care of widows and orphans (Isaiah 1:17, Jeremiah 22:3, James 1:27). Jesus’ parable of the “Sheep and the Goats” (Matthew 25:31-46) with His instruction to take care of the “least of these” probably refers to widows and orphans, too.

Which gets to my point; we don’t need to be told to take care of the orphan—the command has already been given. Sometimes we wait for directives from God. But what if He has already provided it? As Christians, we are to be in the “taking care of orphans business” already. The number not caring for the orphan suggests, however, there’s an “opt out” available somewhere. I’ve never seen that “form.” How would you even fill it out if you secured one? “Memo to God, I’m asking for an exemption on the orphan ‘thing’—I don’t really have the resources. Sorry.” Does any Christian want to send that certified mail to God?

This is not a blog to incite guilt. It is one to take our responsibilities more seriously than we sometimes do. It is also to inform the members of our church that a couple hundred dollars each month of your tithes and offerings goes to the orphan care ministry of Youth for Christ.

But truth be told—we didn’t have a choice.

Pastor Rich Hamlin

March 15, 2012

I enjoy reading our paper’s “Letters to the Editor.” It provides a snapshot of what’s going on out there—a window into society’s soul. But one of this morning’s editorials (TNT, 2-29) provided a window into the soul of a local, mainline church. And I, for one, did not enjoy the view.

The editorial was entitled: “Religion: Not all Presbyterians unhappy.” It was in response to last Sunday’s front page article entitled “Dividing Point” (TNT, 2-26). That article chronicled some of the local Presbyterian Church (USA) and Evangelical Lutheran Church in America church’s response to their denomination’s ordaining of gay and lesbian pastors. The article mainly focused on a handful of congregations in the area who have either left their denominational affiliation or are in the process of doing so.

Which prompted this morning’s editorial from a Presbyterian minister who wanted Tacoma to know that he and the church he pastors feel much differently. He writes, “Several Presbyterian churches in Tacoma, including the one I serve, applaud the change which allows the ordination of GLBTQ folks called by God to ministry.” If you are not up on that acronym, it stands for “Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer.” I don’t recall the apostle Paul, when giving qualifications for an elder (pastor) in 1 Timothy 3:1-7 and Titus 1:5-9, using that acronym. I do know that he insists in both passages that the pastor is “the husband of but one wife.” The Apostle Peter doesn’t list GLBTQ sexual “options” for a pastor in his list of qualifications (1 Peter 5:2-4), either.

It is an amazing thing to watch churches self-destruct. They are so proud to be inclusive, diverse, and welcoming. The pastor’s editorial ended this way: “[We have] experienced significant numerical growth over the past two years, in part due to our inclusive and welcoming attitude.” I remind the pastor that free beer and topless dancers probably would draw a crowd, too.

I wished to know more about their inclusive and growing “church.” Their website talks about fighting hunger, working for justice, and improving the environment. They say they are a place that “blends spirituality with thoughtful reflection on what tradition and experience mean.” I think that means “we have fun and are at liberty to come up with our own truth”—but I’m not sure. If you detect sarcasm, you are correct.

If anybody over at the “GLBTQ Hunger, Justice, and Environment Church” ever stumbles across this blog, I just want you to know that I’m not homophobic, nor am I a “hater,” or a cross-eyed fundamentalist. I’m just a pastor of a local church who believes the Bible, the Gospel, and loves His church; I’m a sinner who gets things wrong and not for a moment thinks he’s figured everything out.

But I’m pretty confident about this one. You might be happy about the direction of your “church”–but God isn’t.

Pastor Rich Hamlin

February 29, 2012  

Jeremiah had a difficult gig. He was a priest and prophet during the days leading up to Judah’s demise and deportation by Babylon in 586 BC. Most of his sermons and prophecies concerned the impending doom. As a result, he was unpopular: “I never sat in the company of revelers, never made merry with them; I sat alone because Your hand was on me and You had filled me with indignation” (Jer. 15:17). His loneliness compounded when God told him he could not marry, either: “You must not marry and have sons or daughters in this place” (Jer. 16:2). Why no wife and kids? God tells him what was about to happen; the consequence of Judah’s faithlessness: “They [parents and kids of that generation] will die of deadly diseases. They will not be mourned or buried but will be like refuse lying on the ground. They will perish by sword and famine, and their dead bodies will become food for the birds of the air and the beast of the earth” (Jer. 16:4). Now you know why he “sat alone.”

But it was not Jeremiah who had the problem; it was the people. God said of them: “The Word of the Lord is offensive to them; they find no pleasure in it” (Jer. 6:10). But the people hung their hat on going to “church” anyway. In fact, they were quite proud that they did: “This is the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord” (Jer. 17:4)! But saying the name of the building three times revealed their allegiance was to the place and not to the deity. Call it hypocrisy or call it formalism; but don’t call it worship. Jeremiah would note this later to God: “You are always on their lips but far from their hearts” (Jer. 12:2).

A couple weeks back I was at a school function for one of our children. While there, I chit-chatted with another father at our table who I just met. I asked him what he did. He said he was a bread delivery driver. I commented that probably meant early mornings for him. He said it did. A few minutes later he followed up with the obligatory question: “What do you do?” After telling him I was a pastor, he fired back: “I have a tougher job than you.” He wasn’t joking when he said it. I figured there was something behind his comment but I didn’t ask. I just went back to picking at my taco salad and tried not to be offended by the exchange. But my mind was working overdrive wondering why he thought delivering Ho-Ho’s and hotdog buns was harder than getting to a place each week with a piece of Scripture where you can say: “Thus saith the Lord.” But I digress.

Maybe he does have a harder job. We don’t need to get into a spitting contest over it, though. What is undeniable is that Jeremiah had one more difficult than the both of us. He preached to a people that said the right things but did none of them.

From the pulpit, that does not characterize the people I look upon each Lord’s Day. And for this I am grateful. So maybe the bread delivery guy was right—his job is harder. He has to deliver bread that he knows even when eaten, people will hunger again. It also grows stale. Whereas I get to deliver each week something far greater and more satisfying, preaching the One Who said: “I am the bread of life…the bread that comes down from heaven, which a man may eat and not die” (John 6:48, 50). And He never grows stale.

“Ouch,” cried Toe.

“That’s the second time this morning you’ve been stubbed,” responded Elbow. “What’s your problem?”

“I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing,” informed Toe, “walking when I’m supposed to be walking. Why didn’t Eye tell me to stop?”

“He’s not around,” Elbow said, “something about being tired.”

“Tired? Doesn’t he know we all are? What about Brain? He knew the wall was coming. He’s supposed to think for us. Why didn’t he send me a message?” asked Toe, still smarting from his collision.

“He’s not here, either,” said Elbow, “something about only needing to be here every other time.”

“Every other time? What’s a Toe like me to do without Brain? I need him here. He knows things I don’t. I can’t move as fast when he’s not around. It’s just not the same without him,” Toe revealed.

“I told him that the other day but I don’t think he believed me. He mumbled about needing a break; and then some gibberish about ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder.’ Actually, I think he struggles with laziness,” sighed Elbow.

“But doesn’t Brain know all of us here at Body have to fight that, too? There’s lots of times when a sock is pulled over me in the morning and all I’m thinking about is wanting to go barefoot today and trek back and forth between the couch and fridge,” Toe sheepishly admitted to his friend.

Elbow agreed there were many times he felt the same. “What helps me on those days is remembering Wrist and Shoulder. I know they have to do more when I’m not around; often times stuff they are not equipped to do. In fact, Shoulder tried to do too much in my absence and is still sore and hurting.”

“What can we do about all this” asked Toe. “How can we let the others know how much we need them? How much Body suffers when there’re not around?”

“I’m not sure,” said a reflective Elbow. “All I know is that I see weariness setting in—Body is starting to show signs of wear. Maybe there is something, though. Conscience set me a text last week. He told me to look at 1 Corinthians 12:12-31—that it was a message he felt we all needed to hear. Now all I need is Eye to get back so he can read it to me.”

“I hope he gets back soon,” admitted Toe. “I need and miss him.”

“Not only was the Teacher wise, but also he imparted knowledge to the people.” That’s Ecclesiastes 12:9. Who is the referenced “Teacher”? It is Solomon, the writer of Ecclesiastes (1:1). Early in Solomon’s reign, God gave him a “genie in the bottle” opportunity: “Ask for whatever you want me to give you” (1 Kings 3:5). Young Solomon asks well: “Give Your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong” (1 Kings 3:9). God was pleased with the request: “I will do what you have asked. I will give you a wise and discerning heart, so that there will never have been anyone like you, nor will there ever be” (1 Kings 3:12). A chapter later we hear the same: “God gave Solomon wisdom and very great insight, and a breadth of understanding as measureless as the sand on the seashore” (1 Kings 4:29).

Solomon then went to work with his “measureless” mind. “He pondered and searched out and set in order many proverbs” doing so by finding “just the right words, and what he wrote was upright and true” (Ecclesiastes 12:9-10). And what did these upright and true words accomplish? What impact did they have on those who heard them? We are told: “The words of the wise are like goads, their collected sayings like firmly embedded nails” (12:11). Goads and nails are sharp; used to prod wayward cattle and to penetrate resistant wood.

Solomon knew he was the “Teacher” but he knew he wasn’t the “Author”. He knew his wise words were wise because they came from the “one Shepherd” (12:11). God gave Solomon “goads and nails” to prod and penetrate; apparently people can be wayward and hardened.

In this, we find insight and application for today’s preacher. He is to give “knowledge to the people” (the congregation) by using “just the right words”—words given by the “one Shepherd” (the Bible). And if he does this faithfully, it will have the impact of a sharp stick to the backside of a beast or of a nail driven through hard wood.

The parishioner may not like the imagery (“You’re likening me to a cow? To a piece of wood?”) Actually, the wisest to have lived said this; he also was under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit when he did.

A sermon characterized by “goads and nails” may not always endear the preacher to the pew; but he is not looking for endearment. His concern is for the wandering sheep under his care and for the hardened soul who thinks God has nothing to say to him. There is always temptation in the pulpit to entertain or to wax eloquent. The pastor has to remember, however, the Shepherd wants him to use “goads and nails”. By design they are sharp—that’s the point.

“Christianity begins with a triumphant indicative,” wrote Dr. J. Gresham Machen in his line-in-the-sand book Christianity and Liberalism. Writing in the early 20^th century, Machen clearly saw the difference between liberalism (liberal church) and Christianity when he said “Liberalism begins by telling the sinner what he must do; Christianity begins by telling the sinner what God has done.” That is what Machen meant by “triumphant indicative”—an indicative being a statement of fact. And the Gospel is a triumphant statement of fact: “For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that He was buried, that He was raised on the third day…” (1 Corinthians 15:3-4).

In Machen’s day, the liberal church talked a lot about the social Gospel (feeding the poor, housing people, social injustice and the like). They got away from what God had done and started talking a great deal about what man must do. Pretty soon, it became all they talked about—Jesus’ accomplished work became an afterthought. Ironically, the fundamental branch of the church in the early 20^th century headed down a different path but ended up in the same place. Slowly, various renditions of “don’t drink, dance or chew or go with girls who do” snuck into their Gospel proclamation. In its worst cases, it became difficult to know who was doing the saving: “Is it my behavior or is it Jesus’ accomplished work?”

Now there is another movement within the church that may be in the early stages of crowding out the “triumphant indicative” of the Gospel. It goes by a variety of names but the one used most is “missional.” They talk a great deal about “serving the community” and not being a “come and see” church but being a “go and be” church instead—laudable aspirations. But we must remember our history. Liberalism and fundamentalism started out well-intended, too. Sadly, the church has a long record of muddying the Gospel; not intending to do so but it inevitably happens when we start thinking we can improve upon the church’s chief message.

“Christianity,” observed Machen, “is a religion founded not on aspirations, but on facts.” And it is those facts that are our privilege and honor to proclaim; as the Apostle Paul says, it is “of first importance” we do so.

J. Gresham Machen. Christianity and Liberalism (Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1946)

You didn’t pray for your Pastor last week. You may not even have asked God to prepare your heart for the preaching of the Word on Sunday. (2 Thessalonians 3:1-5)

You were sleepy in church because you stayed up too late the night before. Maybe you were even late for church (as always ?). And because you got up late, and didn’t eat breakfast, all you can think about is lunch.

You didn’t take time during the week to read and meditate on the text. You should expect to hear from God during the sermon—and be different when you leave. Prepare yourself!

You were just a spectator, not a worshipper. There are parts of the worship service you don’t like so you don’t participate fully. When it’s time to sing—sing. When it’s time to pray—pray. When it is time to read—read. When it’s time to give—give. Get the idea?

You didn’t listen attentively to the reading and the preaching of the Word. This next Sunday, while the Pastor is preaching, try to make eye contact with the him. It helps the pastor know you are listening and connecting, and it helps you stay alert and focused. Open your Bible and follow along—it is easier to do if you turn your phone OFF! (Galatians 6:6)

You didn’t take notes. Try writing down some things the Lord is speaking to you about, not just what the Pastor says. Then work through the Bible text with your notes when you get home. Talk to your family and friends about what you heard and learned. (Psalms 119:18)

You didn’t think the Pastor was entertaining or dramatic enough to hold your attention. You think he should tell more stories to be effective and more spellbinding. If your Pastor is a humble man of God and loves the Word, and he opens up the Word and seeks to make its meaning plain, consider yourself blessed! (1 Thessalonians 2:13)

You think the Pastor should be more __________ ; say more _________; not say __________. If you have unrealistic expectations of your Pastor you will never be satisfied. Remember that the power is in the truth, not in the messenger.

You didn’t think any of the sermon applied to you. But you were sure glad the guy in the second pew was hearing it. If your heart is humble, your focus won’t be on evaluating the content of the sermon or how it’s delivered; you will let the sermon evaluate you. Be like the men and women in Nehemiah 8:3.

If you are not gaining any profit from the faithful preaching of the Gospel in your church, the defect does not lie in your Pastor’s proclamation of the Word. It is in your lack of readiness to hear, receive and respond to the Word of God.

The Holy War rages on; the Kingdom of God versus the Kingdom of Satan. Opening shots were fired in the Garden when the serpent craftily inquired of Eve: “Did God really say…?” (Genesis 3:1) God really did say but Satan has looked for ways to get us to question ever since.

Sometimes the battle looks so unfair; the Kingdom of Satan almost always going with the big and powerful. The most powerful man on earth the end of Genesis is the Pharaoh; he is Satan’s pawn. God chooses the slave Joseph to be His man and he would become the one in charge of Egypt (Genesis 41:41-43). Satan chose another Egyptian Pharaoh the beginning of Exodus. God chooses Moses who at the time was in the desert herding sheep and goats. In the end, it would be Moses telling the Pharaoh what to do (Exodus 12:31-32).

Satan’s memory must be poor because he keeps choosing out of the same mold—his man was “Saul, an impressive young man without equal among the Israelites—a head taller than any of the others” (1 Samuel 9:2). But God went with the little guy again; the one tending sheep named David who had a heart for his Lord (1 Samuel 13:14). Saul kills himself (1 Samuel 31) but David’s throne would be established forever (2 Samuel 7:13).

The Kingdom of Satan chose King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon; a mighty king and nation indeed! God went with Daniel; a deported Jew serving in Nebuchadnezzar’s court. Daniel warns the king that if he didn’t acknowledge God as the only Sovereign; he’d be dining and lodging with the cattle (Daniel 4). This comes to fruition and after seven years of eating grass Nebuchadnezzar acknowledges that it is the Kingdom of God that reins. A few years later, the pattern continues as small Esther takes down big Haman (Esther 7:6-10)—the number two man in Satan controlled Persia.

When Jesus comes (the lowly “son” of a carpenter), He chooses mostly fishermen to go to war against the powerful religious establishment of Israel; an establishment that had abdicated their role as children of God when they rejected Jesus and were now children of Satan instead (John 8:44). When Satan tries to stamp out the young church in the first century with mighty Rome; God’s small church wins again.

The Kingdom of God verse the Kingdom of Satan has continued to rage through the centuries. The Kingdom of Satan almost always looks bigger, stronger, and more imposing. It is no different today. How can the Kingdom of God win?

On the war-front where we battle, we are a small church marching in a big town. The question is: “What possible difference can we make?” And the answer is: “Whatever difference God wants us to.” Just as God chose to use Joseph, Moses, David, Daniel, Esther, the disciples, and the fledgling church; thrusting them to the frontlines of what looked to be an unwinnable war—He sends us.

The outcome is not in doubt. The Kingdom of Satan looks fierce and formidable; but we are on the side that does not lose. The Kingdom of God marches to victory.

I’m glad we are a small church in a big town; the Bible and history says the odds are in our favor—the big town doesn’t have a chance.