On Hearing God's Voice

Making a Difference

Islam in Egypt

I woke up that first night, exhausted and jet-lagged and ready for about 18 hours of sleep, by the loud moans and whines of Muslim prayers. I later learned that there is a system of loudspeakers (situated in the towers of mosques that have to be no more than a mile away from one another) which BLANKETS the nation. Five times a day, the nation is terrorized by the sound of these grunts and whinnys. it's very 1984. And was disconcerting to me that night.

I started to talk to God about it, because it felt weird. "What is this?" I got the mental image of a twisted man, flashlight to chin, telling scary stories around a campfire. He wants the children intimidated and fearful, so that his influence over them will be greater. I became disgusted at that image. Then I started to hear voices. Or, I should say, I began to experience thoughts. Strange, non-Steven thoughts: "You are completely alone here." "You are so far away from Didi; you might never see her again. You certainly can't see her now." "You are unwanted here; you are foreign to this culture and you don't understand it." "You have nothing to give these people and they know you don't belong" etc. Pretty heavy conversation for 4am. I decided to pray against these voices, telling them where to get off and that I wouldn't listen to the garbage triggered by Moaning Prayer Dude.

That had the effect of a peanut against the Hoover Dam.

It felt to be a completely pointless stand. I imagined a gigantic spirit, hunched over the nation, with a slow grin covering his face as it dawned on me that a quick, desperate prayer wouldn't exactly jar this centuries-entrenched beast. I was still agitated, and still anxious. So I just worshipped, and reveled in God's shepherding fatherhood over me. That did bring relief, just focusing on him. I fell back to sleep.

That was my introduction to the spiritual state of Egypt. I later learned:

*the religious spirit, and certainly the spirit of Islam, always attacks the feminine. Women, you see, prophesy to the world about what it's like to be the Bride, the holy Object of God's affections. Through women, we learn how to submit and yet be strong, how to revel in sensitivity, and to explore creativity and the depth of relationship. And the enemy attacks them. I saw even pastors' wives used as pack animals and portable babysitters, and I was ashamed. And those women who wear the full on cover-me-up burkas? The clear message they receive is, "You need to be put away. You are human in shape, but not in position or in expression. You will carry a hole with you and you will reside inside that hole. You are to come out only when commanded to do so." It's terrible, and I'm attributing it to the controlling spirit of religion.


*Egyptian government recognizes officially-sanctioned places of "Christian worship". That is to say, you are allowed to meet in your official building and they'll keep their hands off. But if you get nutso and meet in homes, or in a public, non-sanctioned place, THEY WILL FIND YOU. Fascinating, no? The Egyptian powers that be say, "Have a meeting in a third-party building no problem! But meet in a home and you're TOAST." Why? Are they suggesting that non-institutional meetings are more powerful somehow? Weird. Also interesting is that the Egyptians we met with (all following the laws of the land, w/re: not sharing your faith, only meeting in recognized locales, etc.) reported that there's "really no persecution" in Egypt, save maybe getting passed over for jobs, visa restrictions, etc. Voice of the Martyrs, however, calls Egypt a persecution hotbed, and currently has 21 articles online to back it up. Isn't it weird that the people who follow the evangelism- and community-restricting laws, the ones that confine you to building-based Christianity, don't seem to face those hardships?

*One of the most disturbing things I saw in Egypt was the tattoo that ALL believers wear: it's a cross on their wrists or their hands. They say this helps them know if they're talking to a 'true believer' and can speak freely in public, rather than be guarded and halting in their words. I have many problems and questions with this:
-Could the Holy Spirit tell us with whom we're to speak freely, and with whom we need to be shrewdly silent?
-Is this at all synonymous with Paul's argument that no fleshly marking (like circumcision) could denote God's sons?
-Couldn't a Saul-type, out to destroy the believers, easily get a tattoo and infiltrate the ranks?
-Couldn't a well-wishing person get this tattoo, believe they're now 'marked' as a believer, but never know Jesus?
I know that I don't understand their culture or their background or their society, but boy do I not like this practice.

*At the gates of our retreat center, there were always 2 guards with big guns. This didn't bother me much; lots of guards use guns in South Africa, for instance. We all assumed that the retreat center (which is a Christian-owned business) had hired these guys. We only found out at the end of our stay, though, that these men were actually paid by the police to spy on the goings-on and report them. Ugh. Sinking feeling.

So, what I'm saying it, it's not good. Our believing friends admit that Egyptian culture=Muslim culture, and that constricting snake weaves through the countryside even more deftly than the great Nile, on which the nation was built.

Chew Presents: Literature Corner

HUGE day of Home Maintenance. Getting ready to move Didi into her new home office, and what a job THAT is. But it's meant the streamlining of STUFF, particularly regarding the storage of books in our home--and I love throwing out old crap!! I now have about 250lbs of books in my car. I could not bench press these books. Should I give them to my local library, which I adore? Should I get $17 for the $1800 worth of books from Half Price Books? Dunno, dunno.

I was amazed at some of the junk we've kept on our married/mixed shelves (A Separate Peace? Really? The Collected Works of Smith Wigglesworth? Do I need ALL that?), and I also came across some old friends--books I've not cracked for years. They just got boxed up every 18 months and moved to my new residence. I will now regale you all with a wonderful passage from Thomas Dubay's The Evidential Power of Beauty. I used to kind of be into the philosophical stuff, and I am still into the subject of beauty, as many of you know. Here we go:

Because elegant music is profoundly mysterious, moving, and delightful, it invites special attention... Plato conceived the purpose of music to be the love of beauty. While this comment is an incomplete account of the matter, there is much to be said in its favor. Everyone with a moderate education and a degree of culture recognizes the lofty relationship between the best of classical music and the elevation of the human spirit, not to mention the experience of exquisite delight. Biologist Lewis Thomas made the provocative remark that professional musicologists, for whom he professes "the greatest respect, haven't a ghost of an idea about what music is, or why we make it and cannot be human without it, or even--and this is the telling point--how the human mind makes music on its own before it is written down and played". Thomas adds that "the biologists are no help here, nor the psychologists, nor the physicists, nor the philosophers, wherever they are these days. Nobody can explain it. It is a mystery, and thank goodness for that."

There is no doubt that music is deeply baffling, and that no one can tell us much about the mystery of it, but it is not quite the case that no one can throw some light on its reality and on why its beuty can so thrill the human mind and heart. Yes, any genuine melody is profoundly mysterious. It is a mathematical and yet a flowing reality, appearing and then immediately disappearing--but with lingering effects. It can leave behind a flowing delight, even at times an exaltation. If I may coin a word, it can musify a perceptive listener capable of appreciating its splendor.

Melody and harmony lie at the border of the material and immaterial. On the one hand sound waves are picked up by our sense of hearing, and yet on the other there is in music a strong intellectual and spiritual element, both in the composer and in the listener. Edward Oakes comments that "music is first and above all an ideal reality--as we know from Beethoven's own life, who wrote (and conducted!) his Ninth Symphony when he was completely deaf."

I dig it.

Tales from Joan, Warrior Princess.

yes, there's much more to say about Egypt than tales of gumbo spackle. Quote me on that phrase, by the way.

I will tell you about this woman. her name is Joan. She lives in Seattle. She just happened to be part of this same trip that Peb and I went on. (If you're interested, there was a sort of retreat/conference for a couple of religious organizations and Peb and I both went as teacher/seminar-leader-types.) Joan is not used to joining up with organizations; she believes that the Church is really a network of relationships that spans the globe. She and her friends meet in homes with glad and sincere hearts, break bread and generally yuk it up while sharing about Jesus. She and her husband have felt a pull toward Peru, and have made lots of trips there, establishing some orphanages along the way. [aside: don't you love it when people just GET OUT THERE and execute their calling, not waiting on some organization to bless or anoint their effort? There was no "go establish orphanages in Peru" mailer that came to Joan's house. She just went out there and made it happen.] And she has some TALES FROM PERU, which I'll share with you now. HOLD ONTO YOUR HATS.

*ITEM! Joan was driving in a car on a Peruvian mountain road (they got those Andes out there), when Some Mysterious Force smashed into the car, throwing them off the road and TUMBLING DOWN THE SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN. Yes. Joan's car. Rolling down the mountainside. Joan cries out to God. In the next moment, the car is BACK ON THE ROAD, and they're traveling along, right where they got knocked off. Everybody in the car says "what do YOU think just happened? I thought we just got knocked down the mountain..." There wasn't a scratch on the car. When they arrived at the village, their contact said "we know that you had great trouble in coming here. The LORD has shown us the four evil spirits who camp around our village and make war on us. He showed us that those spirits left their post here to destroy you on your way. They didn't want you to come. But we've been praying for you, and we praise God that you've arrived to us safely."

*ITEM! Joan was diagnosed with a brain tumor 3 days before a trip to Peru. She wouldn't have surgery; she was committed to the trip. She had people helping her, as her balance was shot, half of her body was paralyzed, and her vision was going. She arrived at a new town, meeting a new contact for the first time. A man was greeting everybody, but when he saw Joan, his face lit up. "You're FINALLY HERE!!" Joan goes "um, I don't think I know you." "Yeah, but I know you! Three years ago, God showed you to me in a vision. You were coming to my village in need of healing. I thought God gave me a responsibility through that vision, so I've been praying for you for these last 3 years. And three days ago, God showed me that you were here in my country. We were so excited that all the believers in this village have been praying and fasting for you since then. We can't wait to pray for your healing!" So yep, Joan was completely healed that day. She went on a mountain climb that very day and had more strength and energy than all the locals (of course, they'd been fasting for 3 days)...

*ITEM! Joan was at a meeting of the church (which she understands to be a network of relationships that spans the globe) in a Peruvian village when she and her team just thought that God was there and wanted to heal people that night. So they just invited anybody who wanted to come forward to come receive. A little girl with a cleft palette came up in faith, hoping God would heal her. They laid their hands on this girl and prayed and, according to Joan, THE GIRL'S FACE WAS RESHAPED BEFORE THEIR VERY EYES. "Okay," they thought to themselves, "God really IS in the house and wants to help people." So they said again, "Anybody that wants healing should come right up here where we are. We believe that God is willing to heal anybody that will ask..." Just then [get ready for it] a dog walked in the room from outside, and walked right up to the team. It was a 3-legged dog. It just waited at their feet.



























Okay, you tell me what you do in that situation.



























The team looks at one another and says, "Why can't we lay hands on this dog? God likes all kinds of healing, right?" So they do. And... I know it's nuts, but... THE DOG GROWS A FOURTH LEG. Then it trots back out the door.

These are Joan's stories. Peb, tell these gentlemen that this is, indeed, accurate to the stories Joan told us at the tikka cafe. Go on, Peb, tell em.

Quick Hits

From the field of travel.

As some of you know, I recently visited Egypt. Here are some QUICK HITS from the journey:

*Nope, nothing tastes as bad as complimentary airline toothpaste. It IS commendable, though, to think that these people never looked into any products currently on the market as a reference point. Completely blank canvas. To start with absolutely nothing, and come up with this (while nowhere near the quality of experience that one of the "big brands" can give you) is pretty remarkable. Better than I could've done.

*If everybody on my transatlantic flights spent as much time in the bathroom as I do (~45 min per 8 hrs), and there were enough bathrooms to accommodate them, there'd be room for roughly 34 seats in here. I use EVERY product and facility in there. I try to MAXIMIZE my time in there. It's the roomiest place on the plane!

*When you smell so terrible that I earnestly try working up a fart to IMPROVE the air quality, you really, really stink.

*When I look up from my seat in horror, expecting to be confronted with a post-workout groin or some other mildewed organic concoction, but only see you pacing the aisle... then I watch you all the way back down the aisle just to watch similar expressions on other passengers' faces (which, admittedly, is therapeutic)... again, too stinky.

*Not only did I deeply appreciate Michael Moore's "Sicko" (an expose on health coverage of the west), I actually teared up. Twice.

*I found the Simpsons movie to be LESS entertaining than any half hour episode I've seen. Surprising.

*Tranformers. My heavens. Transformers. BOLDLY galloping out into title contention for Worst Film Ever Devised. What the heck was that thing? Since when do robots sound like demons? Are all military and/or bad guys morons?

*Harry Potter movie. I could see the symbolism that Jiff raved about (Smiling, institutional rule-wonk squelches out life, joy, power from those who're supposed to benefit), but I can't get past all the sorcery and witchcraft. I know that makes me un-post-modern. Sorry. I don't do that Potter kid. And from a creativity standpoint, are you telling me that Rowling couldn't have been more original and given us a new world, instead of going with the standby of witches and warlocks, brooksticks and spell wands? Really? She did some innovate things, granted, but why not just invent a whole new vocabulary? it worked pretty well for Tolkien and George Lucas, as I recall (but I guess she's been fairly successful here, too).

*Man, does ESPN Magazine have the formula cracked for informative/humorous/entertaining sports coverage. Having grown up with "Sports is Real. Important. Stately. American." coverage by the Sporting News and, to a lesser degree, Sports Illustrated, I appreciate the light touch. A LOT. I mean, why can't everything be like that? Couldn't politicians, anchormen, preachers, and professors ingratiate themselves to us all with a little more mirth and self-parody mixed in with all their gravitas?

*Speaking of which, I made a VERY rare stop by SNL last week and caught NBC's Brian Williams' episode. I genuinely dislike this man (for being a news anchor. His smugness repels me into the lake), but that show was funny! Serendipity!

*The #1 thing that bothers me about sparrows is that they're so often seen with their mouths open, looking all terrible and intense. I don't like that; that is a freaky look. Shut your mouths, sparrows. [#2 bother: Sparrows killed my mother.]

*Whenever you're around missionaries or mission trip junkies, they always want to brag about how many countries they've visited. They always find a way to mention that INCREDIBLE meal in Tajikistan or that FASCINATING custom in Laos. I always want to interrupt and just ask, "Should we all just whip them out here and compare body parts? I mean, really, let's just cut to the chase..." but I do not. Churchmen are uncomfortable about penis talk, generally speaking. Quote me.

*I trust that the studies and reports and journals and scientists have some merit (I'm just going to concede that one), and that sitting on public toilets IS a sort of germy suicide, but NOTHING could make me feel nastier than using those tissue-paper seat covers. Which I tried out. YEEECCCK. Nasty.

*But not as nasty as what I left behind, kids! I HAVE NEVER SEEN NOR HEARD OF ANYBODY LEAVING BEHIND WHAT I DID ON FLIGHT 441 FROM FRANKFORT TO CHICAGO. I flushed 4 or 5 times, but all that happened was that the water made a channel through that unholy mound of gumbo spackle. What could I do? I could push the "call attendant" button, but that would only embarrass us both. So after using all the products in the lavatory (Moisturizer- check! Facial mist- check!), I boldly walked away from my slop, winking at the middle eastern man waiting outside. I am not proud of this move (okay, a little), but I was out of options. I also hasten to mention that our breakfasts in Egypt consisted mainly of oiled red beans.


More about this trip real, real soon.

Cavalcade of Star

I think parades are bizarre. Although they happen in various forms around the world, they seem a uniquely American tradition ("Hey OTHER PEOPLE--look at me!!"), and appeal to the voyeuristic, spectacle-loving patriot in all of us. "If you enjoyed the film Pearl Harbor, you'll love our parade!" Weird. I try to attend Ft. Thomas, KY's 4th of July parade because it's quaint and Americana, even if I want to stomp those Shriners when they come by in their innocuous-looking little cars, throwing candy to children. "Keep your Tootsie Rolls, old man. My kids won't be coming over the dark side anytime soon..."



The only thing more stagnant than an actual parade, though, is a TELEVISED parade. I was eating my kibble this Thanksmorn and was shocked to find that the Macy's Parade is still happening. What? Boy, nothing says 2007 like marching bands and gigantic inflatable elves, am I right? And am I to assume that people will sit through this broadcast, just to wait for the Felix the Cat float or the Santaman on his golden throne? Well, I guess **I** did... when I was 8.

Stranger still is continuing to see Hanna Storm on these national broadcasts. I think she has a gig on a morning program now, but this is the same ambitious woman who did the courtside beat for the Rockets in the 80s on our local affiliate. [By the way, Ronnie, I'm old enough to remember when Channel 20 was the 'new kid' in Houston. When I was a young pup there was channel 2 (NBC), 11 & 13 (ABC/CBS, can't ever tell the difference), 8 (PBS-nothing there for a youngster back in the day), and 49, KHOU-TV. And that was it. IT. When Nickelodeon came to town, with Moose and their green slime, it was a crazy revelation from Canada. Canada!! Before that, it was Bill Worrell and Hanna Storm courtside at channel 20.] She's done a lot more high profile gigs, but today she's doing the Macy's Parade, of all things. Well, congratulations (I guess) Hanna. You made it, girl.


And as the checkout guy at Meijer said last night, "Merry Thanksgiving, Ya'll."

Why not.

Time to Learn a Lesson

There have been many people I love, and there are some now, whose lives have worked into a pattern of disobedience or sin or repetitive pain, for themselves and for those who love them. Maybe we have a tough conversation with them, we pray for them, and we tell them outright that what's happening isn't good for them, isn't honoring to God, and isn't, as best we can see it, "the way it's supposed to be." That is a tough spot. I think "I love this guy, but man he's making it difficult..." or what have you (or such as). I'm not saying I've never been the object of someone ELSE's prayers and concerns, I'm just saying I've been in this position a lot, and increasingly over the last months.

Our tendency in these situations, after we've endured what we feel to be an acceptable length of time in prayer and travail, is to throw up our hands, spiritually speaking. We throw in the towel, and that often sounds like this: Well, God's Just Going To Have To BREAK THEM I Guess. We say, God will have to bend them over his knee and spank them until they cry out in humiliated terror and decide to do anything he says (which mysteriously lines up perfectly with what we think they should do). I have said this many times, I have heard this from other people, and I have prayed this for many people in the past (God forgive me). We say something to the tune of "unfortunately, they have crossed a line here. Now they're going to have to Learn a Lesson. Oh well... Go ahead and slap them around, God..."

But if the goal in these situations is for people to repent (and I'll just go ahead and say that IT IS), God's slamming you into the dirt is not the best way to get there (there's a tip in here for married people and parents, too). There is a way to be led that is gentle and strong, not with waffling or mealy-mouthiness, but with compassion and grace. I believe the Bible shows us that God's intention is not to give us a hard line then smack us when we try his patience, as if that will produce loving allegiance (far from it! That tack, as evidenced by the religious system, produces resentment and bitterness and a twisting of the soul). The Bible shows us that God's methodology for engendering repentance is--surprise surprise--love. To wit:

"First we were loved. THEN we loved. He loved us FIRST." I John 4:19

"When sin increased, GRACE increased all the more." Romans 5:20

and the show-stopper on this topic:

...do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance and patience, not realizing that God's kindness leads you toward repentance? -Romans 2:4

Wow, okay. So the avenue toward true repentance is love? Not spankings or punishment? But that's what RELIGION taught me was the best way! But, wait. I guess, as I look back on all my friends that didn't go on in their faith, that that really didn't work out so good. And I guess it is true that all of us gravitate toward wherever we feel the most love in our lives, not necessarily toward what we feel is the most Right. So yeah, that love stuff is a pretty effective magnet, huh? And as somebody gets a good draught of God's perfect, totally-satisfying love, all the false loves and broken wells kind of start to fade, don't they? Okay, I can get that.

So let me just encourage you today, for all your sinful friends and relatives, that you not give up on them, and just love them where they are. This will break YOU, as you mourn for them, and bear the burden of their victimization by the enemy, but love never fails. It will produce grace in you and will be hope for them. God's kindness leads you to repentance.