Review of Getty's Facing a Task Unfinished

Theologically meaty and precise. Devotionally moving. Aerobically challenging. A hint of bluegrass with a touch o’ the Irish—or perhaps visa-versa. An all-nations flavor, with perhaps emphasis on the bluegrass and Irish. 

This is Keith andKristyn Getty’s album, “Facing a Task Unfinished.” 

The selections range from a night-club style of relaxed music highlighting Kristyn’s vocal talent (“Consider the Stars”), to a blue-grass jamfest—music for the sheer joy of it—that reminds me of a strings version of Dueling Banjos ( “Beyond These Shores”). Some selections you want to dance to (or rather run to, if you’re me—such as “Living Waters”), some selections you want to hand to a brother or sister burdened by problems with identity (“My Worth is not in What I Own”), or with the grief of loss (“He Will Hold Me Fast”). The weakest track on the album is an African piece (“O Children Come”) but that judgment is merely a matter of personal preferences, not performance or excellence, and the track contributes mightily to the glorious all-nations flavor of the whole.

The instrumentation ranges from standard folk/bluegrass, guitars, bass, banjos, viola/violin, hammered dulcimer, drums, to rather exotic (various eastern instruments, including a Chinese Guzheng). The album is performed live, which is usually my least-favorite recording situation—but it works and works really well on this outstanding Getty offering. It’s fun to hear the crowd whooping it up, clapping, and adding a spontaneous response to the music.

I have become addicted to this album—listening to it invariably becomes a worship experience. Highly Recommended!

Lucky Socks

Have you ever noted the curious superstitions of athletes? “I wore this particular hat last Saturday night, and on Sunday we beat New England. I’m going to wear that same hat this Saturday.” Or, “these are my lucky socks. I wear ‘em for every game!”

Sounds silly, right? Except, that’s exactly what many of us do as pastors. Pastor XYZ’s ministry is blessed by God, and so he assumes it has something to do with him. He analyzes and then packages “his success,” writes a book about it, and before long his clones are running around, wearing his “lucky socks,” thinking that God will bless them, too, because they’ve adopted Pastor XYZ’s secrets.

Now it’s pretty easy to sit back and throw rocks at Pastor XYZ (and his clones). But what about me? What about those of us who are pastoring little churches that will never grow up and become big churches? What about those of us who don’t have the exegetical or pulpit skills, or the administrative abilities, or the charisma, or the social skills to sustain a large ministry? We often have precisely the same problem as Pastor XYZ. Our self-pitying attitude, our secret jealousy of Pastor XYZ, our disappointments in our ministries reveal that we think about success in exactly the same terms that Pastor XYZ does. We just haven’t found our lucky socks. [Full Disclosure: This post is written from me to me, in case you’re wondering. I’m just letting you listen in. Shhh!]

I’m sixty-one years old, and it’s only recently that I realize how wrong I have been about this preaching business. I bought the numbers racket hook-line-and-sinker when I was a young Bible college student, because it was heavily pushed in those days in the Pastoral Theology department of the college I attended—something I’ve come to see as grotesque theological malpractice.

What a far cry from our modern expert mentality is what we see in Scripture. There really aren’t that many highly skilled, highly successful people headlined in Scripture. There are a few—but not many. We don’t see success mavens selling their formulas, their lucky socks. But on the other hand, nor do we see Andrew sulking because he doesn’t get the good press that Peter does. (Upon further review, we do see the disciples asking, “who is the greatest?” I guess some things don’t change.)

In God’s book we see broken, timid, frequently ill Timothys, to whom are entrusted the crucial task of shepherding churches. He’d have not passed anyone’s personality profile for a successful pastor. But he is the one Paul hands the torch to in 2 Timothy: “I solemnly charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by His appearing and His kingdom: preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort, with great patience and instruction.” (2 Timothy 4:1–2, NASB95)

Success in ministry is not measured by any standard employed by business. It’s not measured by attendance, or conversions, or how many books you’ve written, or how many conferences you’re invited to speak at. Success in ministry looks like this: a love of Christ, long-term faithfulness, brokenness, a humility that promotes and serves others rather than self, a passionate loyalty to Scripture, a servant’s heart. A truly successful ministry seeks to reproduce that attitude in others—even if it winds up being just one or two others. It’s not a success susceptible to elaborate formulas or methodologies.

This kind of success won’t produce “the fastest growing church in the state.” No one will write an article about you. No one will be calling you to consult your opinion on the news. On the other hand, guard your heart, because this kind of success won’t nourish a heart that frets about those things, either.

We can (and should) learn to do what we do, better. We need to continue sharpening the axe with training, education, reading. We need to think creatively about ministry. But at the end of the day, God and God alone gives the increase.

Ain’t no such thing as lucky socks.

Book Review: A Blaze of Glory, by Jeff Shaara

Shaara’s account of the battle of Shiloh in the form of a historical novel does a great service by bringing to attention a battle the import and impact of which has been largely lost in the mists of history. The fields of slaughter produced by that conflict (24,000 casualties out of 100,000 combatants) are among the most horrific of the Civil War.

Shaara continues with his style of tracing the movement of the battle through the eyes of a select set of characters on both sides, most historical, some fictional. His research, as always, is impeccable.

On the negative side, there was too much climbing inside the thoughts of the characters, causing me as a reader to lose the thread of the tale. And the book could have used double the number of maps. In Shaara’s defense, the confusion I experienced trying to stay atop the action might have had something to do with the confusing reality of the battle itself. The generals running the show appeared to have the same confusion that I did reading the story  so long after the fact.

This one I would not characterize as a page-turner, but definitely a worthwhile and enjoyable read. Three and a half stars.

Book Review: Rescuing the Gospel, by Erwin W. Lutzer

Rescuing the Gospel, by Erwin W. Lutzer

Lutzer, pastor of Moody Church in Chicago, has done the evangelical world a favor in two ways. First, he has written a concise history of the Reformation that is accessible to any reader. And second, he demonstrates that the causes of the original Reformation—the distortion of the gospel by the Catholic Church—persist unto this very day.

Lutzer begins with an honest assessment of the medieval church and its moral corruption. He traces the beginning of the glow of the Reformation through Wycliffe and Hus, and then devotes the bulk of the book to Luther. Luther’s path from terrified monk to fearless reformer is given in sufficient detail to allow the reader to come to know Luther the man.

Zwingli, the Anabaptists, and Calvin occupy most of the remainder of Lutzer’s attention. Lutzer is brief enough that the reader is not awash in details, and yet specific enough to flesh out the primary doctrinal and historical highpoints of each of his subjects.

Lutzer’s retelling of the Reformation is a valuable—if brief—introduction to a tumultuous time in history. But the real value of the book is in the final chapter, in which Lutzer documents that the issues initially separating Luther and Calvin from the Catholic church persist unto the present day. In an age in which philosophers and theologians seem to have an almost desperate craving to unify the Catholic and Protestant faiths, Lutzer demonstrates that there is only one side compromising its beliefs: the Catholics are holding firm to their historic pronouncements and distinctives while the Evangelicals are being tempted to move the doctrine of Justification to a back bench for the sake of “unity.”

If you are looking for a concise history of the Reformation with an equally concise and clear list of the issues that continue to separate Catholics and Evangelicals, this book is a good place to start. Four stars.

American Heart Association: A Bad Choice

Warning! If you are thinking about donating to the American Heart Association, you might want to re-think that. Once you donate to them, you are on their phone list for what appears to be the rest of your life. They will harass you with phone calls, sometimes multiple calls every day, sometimes after 9 PM or before 8 AM, and getting off their list is nearly impossible. Supposedly they took me off their list several months ago, but I continue to get telephone harassment from them or their agents. I regret ever donating to them.

There are many fine charitable organizations out there. You might want to eliminate American Heart from your list, and find another.

Before the Throne of God Above

The Gospel is not merely the starting-block of a relationship with Christ. It is also the track on which we run the race, our sure and certain foundation on which we face the daily vagaries, blessings, and opportunities of life.

A song that explores this truth in theologically precise, poetically beautiful words is "Before the Throne of God Above" by Charitie Lees Smith.

I've posted these words before, but they are just too powerful to ever let them get far from memory.

Before the throne of God above

I have a strong, a perfect plea;

A great High Priest, whose Name is Love,

Who ever lives and pleads for me.

My name is graven on His hands,

My name is written on His heart;

I know that while with God He stands

No tongue can bid me thence depart.

When Satan tempts me to despair,

And tells me of the guilt within,

Upward I look, and see Him there

Who made an end of all my sin.

Because the sinless Savior died,

My sinful soul is counted free;

For God, the Just, is satisfied

To look on Him and pardon me.

Behold Him there, the risen Lamb!

My perfect, spotless Righteousness,

The great unchangeable I AM,

The King of glory and of grace.

One with Himself, I cannot die;

My soul is purchased by His blood;

My life is hid with Christ on high,

With Christ, my Savior and my God.

Book Review: Hidden Christmas: The Surprising Truth Behind the Birth of Christ

Two things impressed me most about this book: the warmth and engaging call of the gospel in every chapter, and Keller’s skillful way of handling complex theological topics with wonderful precision. Keller’s treatment of the favorite Christmas passages is complete with God’s sovereign grace, man’s corruption and sin, the need to respond in faith, the fact that faith is something only God gives, the Lordship that salvation demands, and on and on. I’ve never seen it put so humbly, so gently, so clearly, so accurately, so concisely. But the average reader won’t even know he’s reading a theological tour de force—it’s just the Christmas story, well told, suffused with the gospel. Keller writes like a modern-day C. S. Lewis, wrapping profound theology in the language of Everyman. There is no jargon in this book.

Keller manages to get beyond the matters that divide in our current social scene and strikes right to the heart of our brokenness and sin. You can hand Hidden Christmas to the most radical leftist, or to a Constitutional conservative, and neither will be offended by anything but the presentation of the cross itself.

I’ve read a few, not all, of Keller’s books. This is the best so far, which is saying a lot since the others have been so good. In Hidden Christmas the author takes the Christmas texts from Matthew and Luke and carefully unfolds their meanings. A Liberty and Westminster grad, I’ve been preaching and teaching since 1978, and in every chapter Keller is writing about things I’ve never noticed in these passages of Scripture, and they are powerful and profound!

Hidden Christmas is the gospel presentation you’ve been waiting for. Get a copy, enjoy it yourself, and then pass it on to a loved one. Highly recommended.

Book Review: Historic Tales from Park County: Parked in the Past

Organized around decades from the 1860s to the 1950s, Historic Tales is a delightful, anecdotal account of the goings-on of beautiful Park County, Colorado. From mines to murders, gold strikes to graveyards, Van Dusen’s work is full of the colorful characters who comprised the landscape of the past. She writes with the historian’s penchant for research and the journalist’s eye for the story. The book brings to life the hardships and heartaches of the pioneers, miners, and families who settled this beautiful high valley of Colorado, as well as their extraordinary good fortunes in mining discoveries, the cattle business, and other business ventures.

If, while wandering Colorado’s high country, you run across the remains of a cabin and find yourself thinking “I wonder who lived there, and what their story is,” this book just might have the answer. Highly recommended.

Colorado Adventure, Part 7 (Last)

When we got up yesterday in Rinker Cabin at Mount Elbert Lodge, the weather report said it was 13 degrees in Leadville, but felt like 7 because of chill factor. Oh, boy. Do we really want to attempt Mt. Elbert today?

We both got our daypacks ready. Multiple layers of clothing, water, food, and all the gear you bring for the unexpected. We wore international orange vests: big-game season is underway, and I really wouldn't want some hunter mistaking my bald head (white, round) for the backside of a big horn sheep (also white, round). Doris is not susceptible to that sort of problem, but I am.

We probably had way too much stuff, but I've done enough in these mountains to know that when you get careless, you often wind up regretting it. Plus, neither of us are in the best condition and we don't move too fast.By the time we left the cabin it had warmed up to 23 degrees, a nice, reasonable temperature.

We had explored the 4WD road to the trailhead several days before, and concluded we couldn't get all the way up and would have to park below and walk to the trailhead. Much too rugged, rutted, rocky, and just plain undo-able.

That was before we did Weston Pass. Having done Weston Pass, I looked at the road with new eyes. No problemo. We went all the way to the trailhead and did not leave any oil pans, axles, differentials, bumpers or mufflers on the road. Success. Sweaty palms, but success.

Next problem. We got to the trailhead sometime around 10 AM. It's four miles up. That also means it's four miles back. I do not want to drive this road in the dark. So we've got to keep a careful  eye on the clock, and turn around with enough time to get back the car and down the road before dark.

After an easy half-mile on the Colorado Trail, we got to the South Elbert Trail. It took off to the west and immediately began climbing steeply. Really steeply. Really, really, really steeply.

We ascended through multiple stands of aspen trees; the floor of the forest was carpeted in the gold leaves that had fallen. It was beautiful. And, really, really steep. Some sections of the trail had a trace of snow.

There was very little, almost none, of the trail that was flat. It was a steep climb all the way up. Think about the stairs in your home. Then think about them being four miles long, a virtual unbroken climb. Then think about them being up from 10,000 feet to 14,000 feet, where the air is thin. Now you've got the picture. Needless to say, we were in granny gear the whole way.

Okay, enough belly-achin', complaining, moaning and whining. The flip side of the coin was that every step was drop-dead-beautiful. (I actually thought I would drop dead. Several times, in fact.)

Under the brilliant mid-day sun (temp was now high-40s, low 50s, very comfortable), the mountains looked like burnished silver.

I had no problems with my leg at all (remember the stress fracture?). Felt great, was very pleased. Until the walk down, Doris had no problem with her knees. But we were moving slowly and the clock was not. Mount Elbert was getting closer, but we were still two miles to the summit, and according to the hikers that passed us going down from the summit, the hardest part of the trail was ahead of us.

A look at the clock, our condition, and remembering that we still had a very steep walk down (if you've done much hiking, you know that a steep downgrade can be as tiring as a steep upgrade--uses different muscles), I made the call to stop for a late lunch and then turn around. Conquering Mt. Elbert will have to wait for another year.

But the view from where we were was amazing. We were just under 12,100 feet up (the summit of Elbert is around 14,440). Click any of these pictures for a larger view.

We could see forever, even into South Park in one direction. The farthest distant mountains, faintly visible above the landbridge between the lakes, are actually the mountains bounding the far side of that section of South Park.

In my Part 3 post, I included a telephoto picture of the trail up Mt. Elbert. While eating lunch on the shoulder of Mt. Elbert, we were sitting in that photo, just below the horizon on the right side of the picture. Here's a telephoto of the Dexter Cabin from where we ate lunch.

I made the right decision to turn around. The shadows were long and our legs were rubber when we finally got back to the vehicle. I wish we could have gone all the way, but neither of us were in adequate shape to do so. But it was a GLORIOUS walk, and I'm so glad we did it.

In a few minutes from now, we'll be starting to pack up the cabin for an early getaway tomorrow morning. Hats off to Mount Elbert Lodge, and Scott and Laura, for a wonderful, refreshing stay. I love this place!

Tomorrow night, Kansas City. The next night, Greenville, Ohio. It has been a fabulous vacation, and it makes me realize how blessed I am. I serve a great Creator God who has redeemed me thru Jesus Christ, I have a wonderful wife, and I serve a great church. It is far more than I deserve!

Colorado Adventure, Part 6

Ghost towns. Not the silly, phony paranormal stuff. No, these are the little towns that sprang up around gold and silver strikes, from about the Civil War through the end of the nineteenth century. They flourished briefly and then disappeared after the mines stopped producing. Colorado is full of them, both marked and unmarked. Colorful characters, instant wealth, dashed dreams, tragedy--the ruins drip with all these elements.

Nothing seemed to stop the men determined to make their fortunes through mining. It was a dangerous livelihood. This defunct operation (the Hungry Five Mine, I believe) was clinging to sheer cliffs in Buckskin Gulch. It was shot with telephoto under low light, so I had to do some tinkering to make it more visible.

The first question is, how on earth did they get up there? The next question is, how did they get the ore down? The answer to the first: haven't the foggiest. Someone might say, "Ah, but I see a road!" Yes, friend, but the road was built to get equipment to the mine. The find came before the road. What possessed them to go up there before the road was there? The talus you see (the loose rocks comprising the lower portion of the slope) is pretty much at the critical angle, meaning, you step on it and it starts to move. Rock slide!

The answer to the second: they built an aerial tram with steel cables and bucket cars that brought the ore down to the Paris Mill, a stamp mill, from where I was shooting the picture.

 As a backpacker I've run across many mine works, cabins and graves marked on no maps. Some of the old towns persist with year-round residents, such as Fairplay, Alma, and Leadville. One of the things I learned on this trip is that active gold mining continues, with both old claims as well as new discoveries. The Colorado residents I spoke to insisted that there remains much mineral wealth and ore yet to be discovered.

Dor and I left our cabin on Tuesday morning, determined to explore four ghost town sites that are on the map. As we drove up Clear Creek Road, we ran across a herd of maybe twenty-five big horn sheep.

The females and the young run in herds, the adult males are loners (apparently don't play well with others). Female adults have horns, but not as large as the males. All these were adult females or young.

First stop was Beaver City (the beavers are still there, by the way).

Some of the cabins have been/are being restored. Some you can actually rent from the Forest Service to stay in. Further up the road was Vicksburg.

It was set up as kind of an unstaffed museum. Many of the cabins had been restored, and some were still owned and used by the descendants of the original miners.

After Vicksburg was Rockdale.

There was very little of a "ghost town" feel to this one, it looked more like a modern summer camp with the restored cabins. There is a great and commendable interest in Colorado to preserve its heritage. Unfortunately, some of the restoration efforts leave the cabins and structures almost indistinguishable from a modern rustic structure. To that degree, in my mind, they fail to preserve the historic character.

Our last stop was Winfield. Fascinating little town that has managed to preserve the historic feel of its founding.

The next morning we set our sights on St. Elmo, a ghost town about twenty miles SW of Buena Vista. Before we left, however, had to deal with a little ice on the windshield. Because of the very low humidity the temperatures change rapidly up here. When the sun goes behind a cloud, it gets chilly quickly!

St. Elmo sits just shy of 10,000 feet elevation, and was founded in 1880. It grew to a population of about 2000 people in its heyday. One of the mines produced over sixty million dollars of gold.

St. Elmo has permanent residents to this day. Although it is a combination ghost town/tourist trap, with people still living there, they have done an excellent job preserving the historic character of the town.

The building on the right is sided in some sort of sheet metal.

I am guessing that this was done to protect the structure from fires. In these tightly packed main streets in which all the buildings are made out of a very dry wood, if a fire broke out it would spread swiftly to neighboring structures. Many early mining towns were wiped out repeatedly by fires. For some towns, it was the end of the road. For others, if there was still an economic justification, they rebuilt. Fairplay's entire business district was wiped out by fire in 1873. I picked up a great anecdotal history of the area by Laura Van Dusen, Historic Tales from Park County: Parked in the Past. The author, in addition to writing, works  at the South Park Ranger District office in Fairplay. One of the many interesting stories was about the Fairplay fire.

We spent two fascinating days exploring some of Colorado's history through the medium of ghost towns. Tomorrow, we're finally going to attempt to climb Mt. Elbert. We're half-excited, half-dreading the attempt. Supposed to be very cold tomorrow morning. Stay tuned for the update.