Mayas and Christ

The Maya ruins of Ek Balam

Today Richard, Dave, Tommy, Pastor Alfredo and traveled two hours from Felipe Carillo Puerto where we have been staying to go on a cultural tour of a Maya ruin called Ek Balam. It is a Maya pyramid. Pastor Alfredo insisted that Tommy and I (Richard and Dave had already been there) see part of his proud heritage before we left for the U.S. I’m glad we did.

My first thought was it was a place of ancient child sacrifice. I know barely anything about Mayan history, but I remember that. While other pyramids were more spiritual and practice human sacrifice in their religion, this one appeared to be a royal residency. I walked the 98 steps to the top in the hot, jungle heat. I expected it to be cooler up top with a breeze. Not at all. It was oppressively hot. However, the view was spectacular. From the top, I could see for miles in every direction. Just amazing.

I did three things at the top. First, I took pictures. Second, I sat and listened to my daughter Lauren sing an opera piece called Lascia Ch’io Pianga. I have a recording of her singing it on my phone. It was a sweet moment to have her there with me, even if only a recording. Finally, and best of all, as I sat higher than any other place within sight, looking down on the canopy of jungle, I contemplated God.

At the top of the ruins, I contemplated how God is so much more than we can imagine. God is truly omnipotent, omnipresent, good, loving, merciful, generous, and forgiving. Out of his character flowed a desire to create this world which he did. Out of his character, God gave us eyes to sit on high places and drink in the majesty and glory of God in nature. Out of his character, God gives us moments when we are staggered under the radiance of his goodness and holiness.  Out of his character, he has revealed himself to us in Jesus Christ and settled the issue of guilt for sin once and for all. Out of his character, God gave us the desire to share what he has done for us in Jesus Christ. Which is exactly what happened next, but not by me.

When I came down from the top, I rejoined the others and we toured the rest of the site. It is an impressive bit of history to enjoy. While we were walking, Richard told us that while we were all visiting the ruins, Pastor Alfredo sat in the shade and talked with people who came to be in the shade with him. While they talked, Pastor Alfredo led three Maya people to Christ. All done in the Maya language. Three people became Christians at the foot of Ek Balam! He may be proud of his Maya heritage, but he is above all a Christ-follower and wants others to be also. The man amazes me.

The trip home was uneventful and this evening we took our host, Benny, to dinner in gratitude for his hospitality. It was a local place with outstanding guacamole. Truly, outstanding! Tonight, I’m getting to bed early. Up early and heading to Cancun for my flight back home tomorrow. 

Off to bed...

Me on top of Ek Balam

I Stand Near The Door

Years ago, someone introduced me to a poem by The Reverend Samuel M. Shoemaker who was an Episcopalian priest from 1920 until his death in 1963. Shoemaker was one of the top 10 preachers in America at the time and is best known for his spiritual influence on the founders of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA). He is known to a few as one of the "co-founders" of AA. I first knew him from a little poem he originally called "So I Stand Near The Door - An Apologia For My Life."  It is a poem that explains his outlook toward ministry.

I was talking to the staff the other day and asked if they had heard the poem; they had not. I sent it to them and thought your might like it too.  This poem was personally influential. I realize that now, years later, I too prefer to "stand by the door." I suppose its influence on me comes from the gratitude I feel towards those who helped my own "outstretched, groping hands" find the door to God. 

Enjoy...

I stay near the door.
I neither go too far in, nor stay too far out,
The door is the most important door in the world—
It is the door through which men walk when they find God.
There’s no use my going way inside, and staying there,
When so many are still outside, and they, as much as I,
Crave to know where the door is.
And all that so many ever find
Is only the wall where a door ought to be.
They creep along the wall like blind men.
With outstretched, groping hands,
Feeling for a door, knowing there must be a door,
Yet they never find it . . .
So I stay near the door.

The most tremendous thing in the world
Is for men to find that door—the door to God.
The most important thing any man can do
Is to take hold of one of those blind, groping hands,
And put it on the latch—the latch that only clicks
And opens to the man’s own touch.
Men die outside that door, as starving beggars die
On cold nights in cruel cities in the dead of winter—
Die for want of what is within their grasp.
They live, on the other side of it—live because they have found it.
Nothing else matters compared to helping them find it,
And open it, and walk in, and find Him . . .
So I stay near the door.

Go in, great saints, go all the way in—
Go way down into the cavernous cellars,
And way up into the spacious attics—
In a vast, roomy house, this house where God is.
Go into the deepest of hidden casements,
Of withdrawal, of silence, of sainthood.
Some must inhabit those inner rooms,
And know the depths and heights of God,
And call outside to the rest of us how wonderful it is.
Sometimes I take a deeper look in,
Sometimes venture a little farther;
But my place seems closer to the opening . . .
So I stay near the door.


The people too far in do not see how near these are
To leaving—preoccupied with the wonder of it all.
Somebody must watch for those who have entered the door,
But would like to run away. So for them, too,
I stay near the door.

I admire the people who go way in.
But I wish they would not forget how it was
Before they got in. Then they would be able to help
The people who have not even found the door,
Or the people who want to run away again from God.
You can go in too deeply, and stay in too long,
And forget the people outside the door.
As for me, I shall take my old accustomed place,
Near enough to God to hear Him, and know He is there,
But not so far from men as not to hear them,
And remember they are there too.
Where? Outside the door—
Thousands of them, millions of them.
But—more important for me—
One of them, two of them, ten of them,
Whose hands I am intended to put on the latch,
So I shall stay by the door and wait
For those who seek it.
"I had rather be a door-keeper . . ."
So I stay near the door.”

Breakthroughs

Outside of the Frontline Church in downtown Oklahoma City

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Last night, a McFlurry milkshake from MacDonald's led to an amazing work of God.  We had spent the day working hard.  The team I led cut down trees all day and the team our youth minister Nicky led did more scouting (going door-to-door to see who needed volunteer help and praying with them).  They also worked in some homes organizing places that residents still had not taken care of since the storm.  After getting back to our sleep site, cleaning up some, and eating a quick bite for dinner, we decided to go to MacDonald's for a milkshake.  We were there for three hours. We completely skipped the evening worship planned by our site leaders.  God was on the move among us as a team.

You should know that the students on this trip are awesome. I am particularly fond of each of them (you "The Shack" fans will recognize that language spoken by God in that book).  I really am.  It's great to hear someone tell their story of what God has done in their life; it is infinitely better to be there AS GOD IS DOING IT.  I can't tell you specifics.  I am bound to confidentiality and, even if I wasn't, I couldn't do the moment justice.  Suffice it to say, some of them were working through some hard issues of life.  Imagine a person inhaling and never exhaling.  Imagine holding your breath as you deal with life's difficulties and never finding a good or safe place to release it.  For whatever reason, last night was a night to release it.  Last night was a night to exhale all that was pent up inside and it was beautiful.  God was so real, so close, and so powerful.  No everyone had that exact experience.  Some are still new to mission and sharing and being wide open to God, but at some point in the evening everyone was feeling something good and divine. And it was only Saturday. We have days to go yet.  I am particularly fond of these youth.

Afterward, no one could sleep. Even me, the guy who races the chickens to bed.  I dozed for about 30 minutes after lights out and then got up with my heart breaking for what some of these students shared at MacDonalds and how God was speaking and healing. Plus, I looked around and saw our students all walking around the gym where we were staying (divided by a giant curtain to separate boys and girls).  I stayed up for another hour and half talking with leaders and students about, well, just about everything from God to relationships to Minnesota (where one of the other teams is from) to sports. Everyone finally got to sleep, but it was late.

This morning we went to a downtown church.  It was clear from the pastor's message that the church regularly attracted seekers of God who are not Christians.  He addressed them directly several times to help them understand our God. The music was great, the crowd was enthusiastic, and our group were glad they were there.

This afternoon is a spiritual exercise that I am skipping to do some work I promised to complete for the larger church (Presbytery).  I've heard what is coming and they should be in the middle of an exercise to listen to the voice of the Holy Spirit as I write.  Looking forward to hearing from them later.

I missed being with my full church family, but was happy to be with a portion of them here in Oklahoma City on this mission journey.

Grace and peace.

Turning Pressures into Praise

Yesterday, a member of the church told her faith story in church.  Her name is Jill and she told of the struggles of her life.  It is the October 28, 2012 message and is worth listening to online on the church website.

Jill talked of always feeling like she never measured up.  Her learning disability caused her to struggle to do middle school math in her upper years of high school.  Her brother and sister had great capabilities it led her to feel that she was not as good and therefore not as loved.  What Jill said of her high-achieving siblings was, "I turned their praises into my pressures."

I talked with Jill as she prepared to tell her story and I knew the big pieces - the low self-esteem, the looking for love with guys that were abusive, the turning point in getting pregnant and deciding to "hold myself accountable" and do the right thing, and ultimately encountering Christ on a Saturday night service at St. Andrews.  I had even read the line about turning "their praises into my pressures."  But yesterday, when she spoke those words live, that line had impact.  At least for me.

I listen to countless stories of people who do exactly that.  They compare themselves to others, feel like they don't measure up, and put pressure on themselves to somehow make up ground they feel is lacking.  As a result, the honest internal self-talk is self-deprecating and the external actions range from seeking to prove something to the world to unhealthy attachments to people to self-destructive or self-medicating behavior.

It took Jill getting lost in worship one night to have a new vision for her life.  When God flooded her heart with his presence and she told God how sorry she was that she had been ignoring him, everything changed.  When Jesus became real for her as forgiver of her sins and leader of her life, all of the burden of shame, and feeling less-than others melted away.  She lived for years comparing herself to others and feeling like she didn't measure up to others.  She internalized this with her siblings: "I turned their praises into my pressures."  When she encountered God in worship, God led her to be able to reverse that pattern.  She didn't say it this way, but what she now lives is a pattern in which God has turned her pressures into praise.

If you feel a lot like Jill, listen to her story.  She allowed herself to be open to God, put herself in settings to encounter God, and God did the work in the heart.   God turns pressures we put on ourselves that cripple us into praises for his deliverance of those very pressures.   He did it for Jill.  He can do it for you.