A Passing Miracle?

     Age and acid reflux have taken a toll on my vocal chords, and, for the last few years, anytime I have attempted to sing, my voice has broken, cracked, and squawked. BUT, for the last three months, I have been able to sing.  Being able to sing again is pure joy for me, and I am overwhelmed with gratitude every time anything other than screeching comes out of my mouth.

     I believe God did this. I am not sure why or how, but He restored my voice in November, shortly after my father died and my husband and I began attending a church where I, in spite of being female, am allowed to “bring a hymn”* to the worship service. Incidentally—I thought—I had also started taking a powerful medication for dry eyes.

     Then, the medicine, although working beautifully for my dry eyes, began to seriously disturb my balance. I fell—twice. No dizziness, weakness, nausea, or lightheadedness, I simply fell. I called my eye doctor who instructed me to stop using the drops. That was at the end of December, and I have not fallen since.

     I saw that doctor today. While I was in his office, the coincidence between the medicine and my voice occurred to me, and I asked if the drops could have restored my vocal chords. He said, “They do run down the back of your throat after they leave your eyes, and anything is possible.” He added, “Get your singing in now; the medicine will be out of your system in another month.”

     I am seriously sad and considering trying to take the eye drops again if my voice starts to go. I am praying that the drops have nothing to do with my voice and that my miracle will last just a little longer.

*What then shall we say, brothers and sisters? When you come together, each of you has a hymn, or a word of instruction, a revelation, a tongue or an interpretation. Everything must be done so that the church may be built up. (I Corinthians 14:26)

"Going Off"

After a combined 109 years as baptized believers in the Churches of Christ, my husband Bruce and I have, as the old-timers put it, “gone off.” In other words, we are now worshiping with a body of believers who do not have a sign anywhere on the property that says “Church of Christ."

Some of the brothers and sisters with whom we no longer worship are dismayed. Some saw our defection coming. But no one has asked us why.

The why is important. The why includes years of persecution and hardship inflicted during our ministry. The why includes unbiblical beliefs and practices enforced as “law” while other biblical beliefs and practices were ignored and deprecated.

Not that we have arrived at our new spiritual location after a long search for perfection. (As the old adage says, “A perfect church is a church that would not want us as members.”)

So the question remains, “Why?”

Our shared response is that we have been led and added to this branch of the Vine by God, just as we were led to serve His body within the confines of Churches of Christ for 42 years.

My personal response is a description of my new found spiritual freedom in worship. For the first time in my life, I am FREE:

·         To follow the examples of New Testament worship.

·         To respond to the promptings of the Holy Spirit.

·         To add a song, a prayer or a word of knowledge.

·         To cry out, raise my hands or fall to my knees.

·         To shed tears of joy, or relief, or sorrow.  

·         To experience and acknowledge publically the presence of God.

·         To use my spiritual gifts to edify my brothers and sisters.

   Praise God!

We have not arrived at our new spiritual home empty handed. We come bearing treasure, a profound respect for Scripture gained from our years in the Churches of Christ. But it is this treasure that enables us to follow wherever He leads without fear or regret.

 

 

 

Dying Happy

I cried, a lot, yesterday. I laughed, a lot, yesterday. One of our dear, old brothers, Carl Allen, died Friday. At his funeral, yesterday, his children remembered him as a father who always had time for them; always encouraged them; always made them laugh. His youngest daughter, Ginny, told of walking with her parents through an old family cemetery—she and her father a few yards ahead of her mom.
A moving glint of black caused Ginny to ask, “Was that a snake.”
“We’ll know in a minute,” Carl said.
Frantic screams from her mother.
“Yes, that was a snake.”

Bruce gave the eulogy and remarked that it is much easier to speak at some funerals than others, and that Carl’s was one of the easier ones. We all know where Carl stands with Jesus, saved by grace; and we all know, by grace, we will see Carl again—arms and smile spread wide.

I was laughing and crying again last night. Two reasons: First, we were treated to a joyous, moving, slide presentation and talk from a mission team member who recently returned from Costa Rica. Secondly, that member represents a minority never allowed to speak in front of the full congregation before. Susan Campbell is female. FEMALE! And she did our gender proud.

Bruce pointed out that we had been edified by one of our female members, in case nobody noticed—since we met in the fellowship hall and had cookies and coffee. But it was a Wednesday night between seven and eight o’clock. That makes it official.

I can die happy.

How I Really Feel

Having observed public worship services in various Churches of Christ my entire life, I have seen and heard many things that have caused my worship experience to be less than ideal.
Here are a few examples:

Songleaders who were:
Flat, sharp; too slow, fast, loud or soft; unable to read music, without rhythm, unable to read English; children.

Scripture readers who were:
Inaudible, expressionless, unable to read, without understanding; children.

Communion speakers who:
Forgot our standard procedures, made the communion sound like a funeral and not a celebration, included the offering as a commanded part of worship, spoke longer than the preacher; were children.

I have heard the following from our own pulpit:
A funeral sermon denouncing our congregation as unscriptural and unsound.
Paranoid rants.
An invitation that instructed converts to pray in their seats and accept Christ into their hearts.
A sermon about evangelism that included a cartoon showing African cannibals boiling a missionary.
Several unsolicited testimonies. (Usually a good thing, but not always.)

What I have not heard or seen is one well-qualified female serving in any of these capacities.

The question I am usually asked at this point in my tirade is, “What do you want?”, as if somehow my simply wanting change is a failure on my part. It’s simple; I want a public acknowledgement that failure to use the talents of our female members in public worship is wrong.

We have ladies in our fellowship who are excellent Spanish speakers and translators. We have young women who are trained vocalists. We certainly have women trained in food service. We could serve communion. We wouldn’t have to say a word, and we could wear burqas.

Looking for the Elevator

      This past Saturday our elders informed the congregation that Brainerd Church of Christ will shortly be out of funds. The Saturday previous, they let my husband, Bruce, know that we will not be paid after December. Utility bills and upkeep on the building, plus the demise, relocation or defection of our members has done us in.
     This congregation has been in existence for over eighty-five years. Martha Eichelberger and Fran McPherson, nearly-ninety-year-old ladies who work with the inner-city bus ministry, are first generation descendents of founding members. The current building was built in pieces beginning in 1947(?) with the current auditorium added in 1963.
     There is much irony in our situation.
     First of all, due to recent hail damage, we are getting a new $100,000 roof, paid for by insurance. (Our main roof is three stories above ground and three stories high with, I would guess, a 70 degree pitch. I think the roofers are Nepalise Sherpas.)
     Secondly, our Hispanic congregation continues to grow. Although strong in number and faith, there is no way they could support our white elephant any more than we can.
Thirdly, this church has established a number of congregations, e.g. East Brainerd Church of Christ, which are thriving.
      And fourthly, we are a very generous congregation that has seen to the financial needs of members and nonmembers alike. We have been supporters of domestic and foreign missions and currently provide worship space for one of the largest Hispanic congregations in the area.
      But, over the years, our current elders (all loving, caring, giving men) have failed to make other, necessary decisions or to communicate with or listen to the members of the congregation. They have tried, but their efforts have been sporadic and ineffectual. They tried for several years to invite predominantly black congregations who were considering building to join us, instead. The problem being that, by the elders’ choice, our worship services are about as active as a thirty-year-old collie. (This particular collie is friendly, loving and full of faith, just sedentary.)
      As secretary, I was privy to the issues that were never brought before the congregation or addressed by the elders. I finally had to resign to keep from driving my poor husband nuts. (You may not know that, as Churches of Christ interpret scripture, the preacher is not, unless appointed to be so, an elder or pastor. In many cases decisions and leadership are ipso facto left to the preacher, but Bruce has always deferred to the elders.)
      I have made pleas for decisions to be made, especially about our worship. Other people have tried over the years only to be told that “someone may object.” We have never had a praise team or a solo singer. We do not vary our communion service and rarely rearrange our order of worship. Drama in worship is very rare, always disguised as something else, and only performed by men. My last effort to jazz things up was a heart-felt, scripture-laden supplication ( I will post this tomorrow.) for the elders to incorporate women in any worship capacity. That, I believe, would have attracted a number of Christian families whose female members have felt excluded and marginalized. It would at least have put Brainerd Church of Christ on the radar.
      Meanwhile, I have been in touch with a solar panel company that tells me that a third party donor with $200,000 could put an array on our roof that would cover our utility bills, pay for itself in a few years, and generate income and tax incentives for the donor. This would need to be initiated by the end of October to get in on current tax law. Know anybody? And, if we could get someone to replace our now missing steeple with a look-alike cell tower, it would bring the church about $5000/ month. Again, know anybody?
Please pray for Bruce and me as we make this abrupt transition sans golden parachute. What color is God’s parachute? I would prefer an elevator.