Jesus Christ, and Him Crucified and The United Methodist Church...Hand in Hand?

Finally, finally, finally...a post that has something to do with a portion of the address of this blog...not many fathers... My original intent was for my first post to be an exegesis of I Corinthians 4:15, which reads: "For though ye have ten thousand instructers in Christ, yet have ye not many fathers: for in Christ Jesus I have begotten you through the gospel." I just wanted to talk about how we have many teachers or instructors, but not many who actually take the time to nurture us in The Gospel. 

While this post is not directly related to that passage of Scripture, it is loosely tied.  Here's how...I'm taking an online class under the United Methodist Church, the denomination to which I belong. The denomination to which God sent me and I went (albeit, grudgingly), as I shared in a previous post. I have been asking The Lord; "WHY???" for some time now and He finally gave me some peace in Jeremiah 29: 7.  That's another post for another time, though.  Back to this post...a question was posed in this class concerning the best way to develop "Principled Christian Leaders".  This was my answer (and the reason I fully expect to be kicked out of the UMC...I kid, I kid):

One key component in developing Principled Christian Leaders is for those being developed to follow the leading of Principled Christian Leaders who are already in place.  I have a wonderfully Godly pastor who models Christian Leadership and truly lives The Gospel.  I submit to her leadership, tutelage and mentorship so that I have an example.  We learn best by example and if there are more Principled Christian Leaders in place, more can be developed.  Our church has instituted monthly Leadership Training and a number of small groups that put this thought into action.  Our pastor has recruited help in creating the Leadership Training and she gently guides (without micro-managing) those of us who lead small groups.  Our church is guided by The Bible first, as the Ultimate Guidebook for Christ's Church and then The Book of Discipline as a guide for a congregation within the UMC. 

The UMC would do well to get behind its truly Godly leaders and do whatever possible to support and encourage them, so that the focus can truly be on making disciples of Jesus, rather than such a major focus on numbers and money.  While money is necessary for ministry, it should not be a church's number one priority and the numbers will increase as pastors are encouraged to preach Jesus Christ, and Him crucified. Jesus is The One who draws by The Holy Spirit...to paraphrase a quote from the movie Field of Dreams..."If we preach Him, they will come".  There is no better way to develop Principled Christian Leaders than to teach, live and model The Gospel of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

The Sound of The Hammer Ringing

This is something I wrote for the Good Friday Service at Mt. Olive.

The Sound of The Hammer Ringing

~ Engla A. Gray

Think back. Think back to that day 2000 years ago. That day our Lord was crucified. He’d done no wrong, only been obedient to his assignment from His Father. It is said that soldiers mocked him. It is said his mother wept. It is said he called out to God. It is said he forgave a sinner on the cross next to his.

I keep thinking about the hammer and the nails. I can imagine that sound. The sound of metal against metal as the hammer forced the nail through my Savior’s flesh. The sound of metal against metal as the hammer forced the nail through the wood of The Cross.

Can you hear it? Can you hear the hammer ringing?

I pray that you do. I pray that we all hear it now and forever.

I pray that we hear it when we are ready to grumble.

When our voices raise in protest of a perceived wrong, I pray that sound is drowned out by the sound of the hammer ringing at Calvary and we remember that there is no wrong we could suffer that will ever match the most horrific crime, yet the most wonderful gift that humanity will ever see, Jesus being crucified.

When we are ready to tell a lie, I pray the sound of the hammer stuns us into silence as we recall that Jesus died so we could live in The Ultimate Truth of His Lordship and God’s Love.

When I am ready to speak ill of my sister or brother, I pray that thought is muted by the sound of the hammer and I will instead be reminded that He died for them too.

When I am indeed treated unjustly and falsely accused and I can hear the mockers around me, their accusatory voices will be silenced by the sound of the hammer and I will find comfort in knowing that no matter what my enemies are saying or doing, I am not being hung on a cross for a crime I didn’t commit.

And when I am feeling woeful, I pray that my self-pity will be blanked under the sound of the hammer ringing at Calvary and I will rejoice that I will never have to ask the question, “My God, my God why hast thou forsaken me”.

With every ring of that hammer, with every thrust of a nail, Jesus paid my sin debt, redeemed my soul, saved my life…and yours…at Calvary.

(c) Engla A. Gray 2012

Whitney Houston; God rest her soul.

So, Whitney Houston’s gone. You coulda bought me for a penny when I heard the news. It’s been almost a week and I still say at least once a day, “I can’t believe Whitney’s gone”. No, I didn’t know her and no, I wasn’t her number 1 fan. I loved most of her music and I fully acknowledge that hers was the greatest voice of our time. Regardless of whether you liked her music or not, there is no denying that she had an absolutely AMAZING voice. It’s not likely that we will ever hear a voice as wonderful as hers. As a music lover, I am saddened by the loss of such a fantastic set of pipes. That’s still not the reason her death has me stunned.

The reason is this; Whitney Houston kept me on my knees for a long, long time. She is responsible for a large part of my spiritual growth.

Let me explain. I remember when the first album came out (I had it on cassette and used to play it on my little pink radio…I know, I just dated myself). I can’t sing a lick, but I would belt out Saving All My Love For You, You Give Good Love and All at Once (that was my favorite) like I was a true “sangah”. There was always a Whitney Houston song on my top ten list, no matter what. Then, Whitney hooked up with Bobby Brown and gone was that “good girl” image. Their public “antics” made me angry and I became Whitney’s biggest critic and man, was I critical. That’s something about which The Lord still deals with me.

I ragged on Whitney and Bobby on a regular basis. It was so bad that a co-worker would leave pictures of them in my inbox just to get me going. Then, as I grew in my relationship with The Lord, I saw the error of that and He turned my heart. I repented of the nasty, negative things I’d said about the two of them and began to pray for them, especially Whitney. I prayed for her every day. Every time I got on my knees, or bowed my head; her name crossed my lips or ran through my mind…for YEARS.

In the new millennium, I was taking a class at my former church. The instructor (my mentor) asked us to bring pictures of people for whom we were praying, people we loved, people for whose salvation we were believing God. People had pictures of their parents, children, spouses, siblings, family and friends. The ONLY picture I put on the altar was one of Whitney Houston and Bobby Brown. Not a single person in my class thought that strange. They sincerely prayed with me for the two of them every day for two straight weeks. Later on, when things became publicly volatile between Whitney and Bobby, I continued to pray; and I was relieved when I learned their marriage was ending, because it seemed that was the best thing for HER and for their daughter. Still, I continued to pray.

Whitney started to make her “comeback” and I saw my prayers being answered. My mentor and the instructor of the aforementioned class said to me; “Engla, your prayers have been answered”. From that point, my prayers changed from prayers of petition to prayers of thanksgiving.

Over the past two years, my prayers for Whitney Houston slacked off. I’d still pray for her when I saw her on the news, but the every day burden seemed to have lifted. So, imagine my shock when on last Saturday night, February 11, 2012, in the middle of a 16th Birthday Party for a young lady who wasn’t expected to live past her 2nd birthday, I read that Whitney Houston was dead.

I checked Facebook on my BlackBerry and read that Whitney Houston had died. I didn’t believe it. I did a Google search and saw that The Associated Press had reported her death. I started making and receiving phone calls. The calls I made were to people who knew how long and how hard I had prayed for her. The calls that I received were from some of those same people, and from others who know my love for music and were devastated to learn that “The Voice” was no longer with us.

When I called my mentor, she said she thought I’d be the first person to call her and she reassured me that my prayers had been answered. She reminded me of the things that had gone “right” in Whitney Houston’s life. I shared the news with some of the older folks at the party and then tipped my lemonade to her memory (I do that every time someone passes). I went home and fell asleep on my family room floor, with The Bodyguard watching me on my flat screen television.

When I got up the next morning, I got ready for church as usual and on my way there, I heard her rendition of “I Love The Lord” on the radio; that's when I lost it. I sobbed in my car like I had lost my best friend. I cried loud and I cried hard. I pulled up in the church parking lot and called one of my friends and prayer partners. I could barely get the words out when she answered. I asked her if she remembered my prayers for Whitney and I said; “What if I stopped praying for her too soon?” My dear friend talked me through that moment and assured me that if the prayer burden lifted, I had done what I was supposed to do. She reminded me that prayers aren’t always answered in the way we’d like or even expect.

After we talked, I got myself together enough to go inside and go to the altar in the Sanctuary. I got on my knees and cried out to The Lord for the souls of the lost. I repented for the arrogance of The Church in our neglecting to pray for souls instead of fighting and praying for our own selfish gain. I repented for the way in which we neglect to carry out the Great Commission as outlined in Matthew 28: 18-20 (KJV) “And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen.”

I prayed and I cried and I cried and I prayed and I searched Scripture and I cried and prayed some more.

In the days since, I have listened primarily to Whitney’s music and changed the background on my PC to a new picture of her every day, which I'll continue to do until her funeral service (that’s something else I always do when someone passes). I have also felt in my spirit that I did not stop praying too soon and that my prayers were indeed answered.

I fully believe that sometimes, in His Infinite Wisdom, The Lord calls home those who have accepted Him, but lack the strength to continue to battle their personal demons. He grants them the only kind of deliverance that will last; He takes them from this earth so that they will not fully self-destruct.

I don’t claim to know the state of Whitney Houston’s soul; only God does. I do believe that she believed in Jesus, and I believe that He called her Home to give her a peace she was never going to find in this world.

With that in mind, if I could say anything to her, it would be this;

“You impacted my life in a much bigger way than just being a fantastic singer. God used your life to stretch me spiritually and draw me closer to Him, and He used your death to remind me of my responsibility as someone who claims The Name of Jesus. Rest in Peace, Whitney Houston. Never having met you, I loved you dearly. Thank you.”

Giving Thanks

I'll be heading South later today. I'm going to celebrate Thanksgiving with my mother's side of the family. Good times; we always have good times. Can't wait to pull my little cousin Nick aside for a one on one chat. That boy (21, over 6 feet tall, plays college football) has a lot going on and his big cousin needs to hear where his head is. It's been about 18 months since we've had the chance to do that.

When I get back I have a lot to tackle...HEAD ON! Gotta break through that roadblock I mentioned in my last post. That's a MAJOR undertaking, but I have no coice but to be up for the challenge.

Pray for me!

Road Block Ahead

I have hit an emotional roadblock...HARD. I'll be back.

The Power of "WE"

I am struggling right now. Not with my relationship with Jesus; not with ungodly living; not with habitual sin. I’m not even struggling with acknowledging and accepting God’s Call on my life anymore (I never thought I’d be able to say that). I am struggling with the past; or maybe it’s the future. Actually, I’m struggling with how events in the past may affect the future. I’ve prayed about it, I’ve cried about it, I’ve tried to ignore it, I’ve tried to psych myself out about it. None of that worked; it keeps sneaking up on me and jumping on my back in an attempt to wrestle me to the ground.

So, a few days ago, I was sitting with someone going over paperwork and I kept seeing a name…over and over and over again. Because of the nature of the work, it was necessary for me to read and so I kept saying the name…over and over and over again. I felt my stomach tightening as my mind went down a rabbit trail. What I mean is this; the name I kept seeing had nothing to do with what was bothering me, but the association of the name did. Seeing that name and allowing my mind to follow Peter Cottontail, took me back. So, as we finished our discussion and I was about to be excused; I stacked my papers and tapped them on the table to line up the edges….over and over and over again. For a few minutes, I was silent (if you know me, you know silence is not my M.O. unless I’m angry or in deep thought). I began to erase blank spots on the paper and my heart started to race. The tightening in my stomach increased and I blurted out the connection that name had. I glanced up into surprised, thoughtful eyes as the person to whom I was talking said; “oh, mmmm”…over and over and over again, before asking me a single question.

The question I was asked opened up another can of worms and then…there was silence again. I rubbed, scratched and stroked my face repeatedly as the tightening returned to my stomach and my heart began to race again. So, without looking up (I kept right on erasing blank spots on that paper); I asked for help. That is not something I do well. I mean, if I need help with a project or I don’t understand something, I have no problem asking. But, to ask a person to help me understand me…nope, no good at that. I purposely wasn’t clear in my asking because I was hoping the person with whom I was working and talking would exercise some form of ESP and know exactly what was troubling me without me having to say it. If they did, they didn’t let on; so the questions came and I began to explain.

I’d asked them not to give me typical “Christian” or “churchy” answers. I didn’t need a bunch of Scriptures thrown at me. I know what The Word of God says and this isn’t about the spirit man of Engla, this is about the flesh, the woman, the totally human side. So, I didn’t expect super spiritual answers. I kind of expected to be questioned about why this thing was still an issue and why I hadn’t been able to let it go and move on. But that’s not what I got. I got compassion, some solid counsel, some transparency that let me know the person understood exactly where I was coming from, assurance that I’m not crazy (at least not based on this particular matter), confirmation that there isn’t anything wrong with me, and a committed resolve that “we will get this fixed; we’ll get through this stuff”. How about that... We…not “you”; but “we”.

When you’re hurting, when you feel like you may be alone and perhaps out of your mind, when you are confused and unsure, when you’re facing a Goliath and you see yourself as David without even a sling shot or a single rock; “we” is the single most powerful, valuable, affirming word you can hear from another human being. Especially when that human being is one you trust and whose input and opinion you value. I know I’m facing a lot, but the assurance that I’m not facing it alone in the Earth realm makes it just a little less daunting. So I say, thank you to the “we” people in my life. When the “I” part of “we” wants to run, I am confident that the “you” part of “we” will insist I stand (even if you have to help hold me up). The best thing about “we”, is that it works both ways. Whatever you face; “we” will get through that too.

My Pastor

I haven't blogged in a while and this one will be brief. Yesterday afternoon, we lost one of the greatest women of God of this era; Apostle Betty P. Peebles of the Jericho City of Praise. Pastor Betty; as I lovingly called her; was a great teacher and a woman of true integrity. I will miss her terribly. She has taught me so much and I will forever carry with me the many, many things I learned at her feet.

I know all of the "proper Christian" things I'm supposed to say. But truth be told, I can't rejoice. I can't thank God...not right now. At this moment, all I feel is an incredible sadness. I know it will ease, but right now, in this moment, this is where I am and I need to be here for just a little while.