Author: Jon Gauger

At 25,000 feet, clouds look different.  They just do. From the window of a jet, the view is completely unobstructed.  No cluttered skylines, no haze, no polluted air, just crisp viewing. 

But the skyscape I like best is seen at much lower altitudes.  I love it when the plane lofts just high enough that is enshrouded in the misty vapor of the first cloud layer. Wispy trails rocket past the window reminding me of just how fast the hollow metal tube in which I’m seated is actually traveling.  

But once we reach cruising altitude—say 25,000 feet—the clouds look much more like a VBS craft project of cotton balls glued to blue construction paper. Right about then, Psalm 19 often sweeps over me:

“The heavens declare the glory of God.  The skies proclaim the work of His hands.  Day after day they pour fourth speech.  Night after night they display knowledge.”

On a recent flight it came to me that David wrote this Psalm likely never having climbed anything taller than Masada (1,440 feet above the desert floor).  We're not told if he ever climbed Mount Hermon (about 7,300 feet).  But with his gift for poetry, what lyrics would David have constructed had he sat in the window seat next to me?  What imagery would he have crafted staring out at the wing?  You can bet it would be memorable—and worth memorizing. 

Back to Psalm 19, though.  Verse one says the heavens “declare” and the skies “proclaim.”  The problem is, I’m rarely listening to what they’re declaring or proclaiming!  In fact, in my on-going distraction, I often don’t even notice the skies. It’s a shame.

 The heavens are declaring. 

They will declare tonight in the glitter of a hundred billion stars.  Or the sliver of a milk-white moon.  They’ll declare tomorrow when orange streaks swoosh across the early morning canvas. They’ll declare the next day and the next day and the next…all the way until the cataclysm of the last day!

The heavens—God’s heavens—are declaring His glory.  The only question is, are we hearing the “glory chorus?”

 

 

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I loved it then.  I love it now.  Enough that I bought the entire five-disc series on DVD and now share this magical underwater past of mine  with our grandkids.

You’d think that in an age of green screen, CGI and 3D animation Stingray would be sunk.  But the kids love Captain Troy Tempest and his sidekick, “Phones.”  Then there’s Marina and Atlanta, who share a competing love interest in Troy.

Firmly in charge of “Marineville” is the gristled gray haired Commander Shore.  The grandkids often mimic his recurring comment,“Stand by for action.  Anything can happen in the next half-hour!”

There's something else about Commander Shore the kids have unfortunately observed.  The boss smokes an occasional cigar (looks strangely believable in the mouth of a marionette).

Recently our daughter texted us a photo of her kids who were munching on apple sticks—long skinny treats that admittedly resemble…well, a cigar or cigarette.  Recalling their Stingray pal, they clenched the apple sticks between their teeth claiming, “Now, I'm Commander Shore!”

I chuckled. Then cringed.  And thought deeply.  We are picky about what videos we let our grandkids watch.  Stingray’s story lines champion courage, selflessness and goodness. Still, Commander Shore has apparently made a deep (unhelpful) impression on our little grandkids.

I wonder—how many other “unhelpful” impressions do we leave with our little ones?  What other useless or damaging habits, words and actions do we expose them to?  We tell them they cannot watch something on television but we ourselves are glued to that same forbidden show.  We tell them church attendance is vital, but we ourselves may have a spotty record.  We tell them they cannot have a glass of this or that, yet perhaps we indulge freely.

Proverbs 22:6 counsels, “Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it.”  Notice that phrase, “the way they SHOULD go.”  If we I gnore this warning, despite our highest hopes, our parenting will almost certainly…get sunk.

 

Smart folks do not let smartphones near water.

(And now the story).

Recently at our campground, eight-year-old Joslynn and I chugged around the lake in a paddle boat.  Fun!  Back on shore, Joslynn immediately asked if we could take the kayaks out for a spin.

Point of clarification: paddle boats have broad flat bottoms and are virtually impossible to capsize.  By contrast, kayaks are unstable, and easily dunked.  This insight came to me later, rather than earlier.

In approximately 18 inches of water, I managed to roll the kayak, thoroughly soaking myself—and the iPhone in my pocket. Rocketing out of the sandy muck, I dug for the phone, staggered out of the water, and rushed for a towel we did not have (we were boating, not swimming!). 

Like a stroke or heart attack, I knew time was not on my side.  Joslynn and I hurried back to the camper where I recalled that shoving a wet phone into a bag of rice might help it revive.  But who has rice at a campground?  Why…the next door neighbors, of course. The throes of death tentacled my device as the screen fogged, fuzzed, coughed and wheezed. I jammed it into the bag of rice and hoped for a miracle.  With the power finally switched off, I left the iPhone in a coma on life support.  And waited.

The next day, it would power up, but the screen was still somewhat trashed.  Yet it seemed to be receiving texts and emails.  My son, Tim, the acknowledged tech master of our family, crushed my fragile hopes with the assessment, “Bro, it’s over.”  I believed him.

Day three, we transferred all the photos off the phone while there was still a pulse.  The screen was considerably improved.  “Don’t let it fool you,” Tim said.  “The battery probably won’t hold a charge.”  But it did.

Day four, I stepped out in faith and declared the iPhone resurrected—the screen fully restored.  But I knew that even if that were true, another water disaster would likely seep into my future.  So I immediately priced out a water tight case. I wanted the assurance that if ever again I capsized a kayak or canoe I wouldn’t be out hundreds of dollars.  That very morning I bought a “Lifeproof” case.

This is a rare happy story in a long line of wireless woes, but also something of a cautionary tale.  It is well and good to want to protect a smartphone from disaster. But do we extend the same concern in protecting ourselves from sin?

Your body (and mine) is a “temple of the Holy Spirit.”   How much care have I extended in fighting gluttonous impulses every time somebody at the office brings in doughnuts?  What kind of protections do we make to keep our online experiences free from sexual imagery?  What about our choices in movies, books and music?  Do we have a “lifeproof” case for that?  Or are we just sort of hoping we won’t get capsized by sin?

Having baptized other phones, my “Lifeproof” purchase shows it’s not a question of if—but when—I’m going to face a disaster.  How dare we be one whit less defensive when it comes to sin!

 

 

Recently, I had the honor of talking with Will Graham.  As the grandson of evangelist Billy Graham, Will carries the family name well.  Better than that, he carries the name of Jesus well.

In the course of more than three decades at Moody Radio, I’ve been blessed to meet and interview a number of Will’s family members: Anne Graham Lotz, Franklin Graham (Will’s Dad), Gigi Tchividjian, and Billy himself, whom his grandson refers to as “Daddy Bill.” 

Can I tell you a secret, something I’ve seen up close?  Apart from their love Jesus, the most important thing you need to know about the Graham family is that they are plain humble people, gracious and unassuming to a person.

They’ve been everywhere, done everything.  They have preached, published, and proclaimed the Word.  They have dined with presidents and princes.

In the course of our conversation, I thanked Will for the Graham family’s integrity over many years.  He reminded me that he is constantly aware of the potential to fall, jealous to guard the reputation of Christ. 

Will recalled traveling to Anaheim, California as a boy where his grandfather was speaking. Billy was spotted and people lined up for autographs—big time.

There were hundreds of people and the line wrapped around the entire block. “Daddy Bill patiently met with every single one of them,” Will reflected.

At one point, Will decided to walk across the street and talk to his Grandpa.  But a policeman, doing his level best to manage the crowd, kindly informed young Will he’d have to get in line.  Will remembers, “Just then Daddy Bill called out to me with his arms wide open.  ‘Will!’ I ran right over to him.”

Will now ponders that moment of so many years ago as a unique life lesson. “When you’re a grandson, you have access to your grandfather.  When you’re a child of God, you have access to your Heavenly Father.  Because we know Jesus, we have access to our Heavenly Father!”

Billy Graham is 98 and in declining health. Will told me, “Someday soon, he’ll go home to Jesus.  The world will lose ‘Evangelist Billy Graham.’  But I will lose Daddy Bill, my last living grandparent.” 

At this point, Will spoke softer, a lump clearly lodged in his throat. A slight pause followed as He found himself wiping a tear.  I found myself looking away.   Apparently, it was contagious. 

How do you mix the Fourth of July, the story of Gideon, and an urgent desire to pass on biblical truth to your grandkids?  I’m not at all sure I know. But here’s what happened.

All four of Josh and Lynnette’s grandkids showed up at our house for an overnight on July 4^th.  With ten-month-old Sadie finally asleep, it was time to get Josie, Caleb and Lucy to bed.  Bible stories are a grand tradition, and we have a couple of favorite kids’ Bibles we use (I strongly recommend Ken Taylor’s, The Bible in Pictures for Little Eyes from Moody Publishers.  It has just the right amount of text and pictures.  Plus, difficult concepts are explained wonderfully simply).

But because it was the Fourth of July…and because these kids’ mom had left each of them with a glow stick, I decided to attempt a reenactment of the story of Gideon.  You’ll recall the action from Judges 7, where God whittled down Gideon’s army to just 300 men. Armed with trumpets and clay jars covering their oil lamps, at God’s instruction, they wreaked havoc against a vastly superior Midianite army, suddenly revealing their lamps.

Judges 7 records, “They shouted, ‘A sword for the LORD and for Gideon!’ While each man held his position around the camp, all the Midianites ran, crying out as they fled.”  Call it a low tech version of shock and awe. 

So how did this mix with our little tykes’ glow sticks?  They were hidden under pillows and pajamas to block out the light.  We took turns giving “the signal,” then repeatedly shouted, “A sword for the LORD and for Gideon!”  Only then did the kids whirl and twirl the glow sticks.   

This faux attack was repeated again and again (complete with several iPhone videos of our reenactment).  And I reminded the kids that this Bible story—like all of them—really did happen. 

In retrospect, the video evokes more of a scene from Star Wars then Scripture.  But I suspect the next time you mention to Joslynn, Caleb, or Lucy the biblical character named Gideon, they will surely remember his story.

Travesty or teachable moment?  You decide! 

(Love to get your email on this!).  

 

 

Today we bury Elsie. 

 

At 92, she was still young.  She emailed.  Used Microsoft Access.  Was an ace at Wheel of Fortune.  She was a regular out at our campfire, spinning stories into the sparks and dark.  

 

We will miss her.  

 

Born in 1924 in Chicago, Elsie once met actor Charlton Heston, at the time a student at Northwestern University.  She attended a production at the Goodman Theater.  Later that evening, Charlton Heston gave Elsie and her girlfriend a ride from the theatre to their home.   Elsie commented that she wasn’t very impressed with him.  Then again, that was before Heston used his staff to part the Red Sea in The Ten Commandments.   

 

Speaking of biblical themes, the thing that her children, grandchildren and friends knew Elsie for best was her love of the Bible.  She read it, pondered it, lived it, memorized it.  

 

Out at the campground, it was easy to find Elsie on her deck—reading the Scriptures, or should the weather be drizzly, sitting inside, an open Bible on her lap.  Her grandson remembers falling asleep as a little child, then waking up and seeing Grandma Elsie asleep…but with a Bible still open on her lap. 

 

Elsie’s love of the Scriptures stands in sharp contrast to the biblical illiteracy that increasingly describes America:

 

• Fewer than half of all adults can name the four gospels.  
• 82% of Americans believe that the saying, “God helps those who help themselves” is actually in the Bible.  
• A Barna poll indicated that at least 12 percent of adults believe that Joan of Arc was Noah’s wife.  
• Many Christians cannot identify more than two or three disciples. 

 

This is just one of many reasons why losing Elsie is such a loss. Our team is down one very knowledgeable Bible reader.  But better than merely reading the Word, she really did try to live it out.  There could be no better way to close this tribute to Elsie then quoting the passage she loved best, Proverbs 3:5,6:

 

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart

And do not lean on your own understanding.

In all your ways acknowledge Him,

And He will make your paths straight."

 

 

Swimming.  Boating.  Horseback riding.

For most kids, that's standard stuff at summer camp. Not when you’re a special needs child.  But the ministry of Joni and Friends is quietly rewriting the book on all this.  One chapter of that story played out last week in Michigan at a gathering exclusively for people like Michelle and their caregivers.

She has Down syndrome and lives with my friend Dan and his wife, Joan. Michelle was one of about sixty-five “kids” (many of adult age) who attended, along with their caregivers.  And everybody—everybody—was treated lovingly.

“The whole point is to let the kids experience normal life, while parents enjoy a week without stares from strangers,” Dan commented.  Caregivers were treated to spiritual encouragement in an in depth look at Psalm 123. 

A girl with Down syndrome steering a motorboat?  It happened for Michelle—and Dan has the video to prove it.  The grin on her face is precious.

Dan told me about talent show night.  From crooners to comedians, it was all there, all performed by special needs kids who soaked up the moment—and the applause.

Imagine living your whole life in a wheelchair, wondering what it would be like to—just once—ride a horse.  It happened here, thanks to Joni and Friends.

Through the assistance of a special ramp, a mobility impaired child was sat on a horse with a caregiver sitting behind wrapping their arms around the child.  Additionally, one caregiver walked on either side.

Of all the lovely snapshots Dan shared with me, this is the one that makes the lump that makes it hard for me to swallow. Or not cry.

Isn’t this the perfect visual metaphor for the lavish care that Jesus would have us show toward one another?  Someone wrapping their arms around someone else with needs–two on either side walking the trail together—it’s beyond beautiful.

"By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another."  –John 13:35

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An open letter to the Honorable Bernie Sanders, United States Senator

 

Dear Senator Sanders,

I read transcripts of the conversation you had last week with Mr. Russell Vought, President Trump’s nominee for deputy director of the Office of Management and Budget. During that exchange, you quoted Mr. Vought as saying, “Muslims do not simply have a deficient theology. They do not know God because they have rejected Jesus Christ his Son, and they stand condemned.”

Senator, you reacted by saying, “In my view, the statement made by Mr. Vought is indefensible, it is hateful, it is Islamophobic, and it is an insult to over a billion Muslims throughout the world.”

I have some questions for you, sir, that I would appreciate your addressing.

1. Does Mr. Vought not have a right to hold such an opinion—or express it publicly?  Or has this nation set in place an idea police force that now finds his comment “illegal”?

2. Do people of historic orthodox Christian faith no longer have the right to believe (and publicly state) the teachings of Jesus? 

3. Is it your belief that Christians are free to believe what they want, only so long as they do so in the quiet of their own congregations—keeping their beliefs out of the public square?  If so, how does that square with the first amendment?

4. You clearly seem to be implying that merely by believing the “wrong things” Mr. Vought’s religious convictions somehow make him unfit for office.  But how could your position be anything other than a clear example of prohibiting the free exercise of Mr. Vought’s religion—a constitutional violation?

5. How do you justify your verbal laceration of Mr. Vought knowing that Article VI of the Constitution states, “No religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States”?

I want you to know, Senator Sanders, that far from bigotry or hate, Jesus declared “Whoever believes in me will never die.”  Anyone may receive Christ’s forgiveness and offer of eternal salvation in heaven.  Anyone—Muslims, Jews, atheists, agnostics, Buddhists, Hindus—whoever acknowledges Christ as Lord. 

I do not deny that Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth and the life.  No one comes to the Father but by me.”  You are free to disagree, free to disbelieve.  But you are not free to wrench the right to believe—and express—this historic biblical belief away from those who embrace the Scriptures.  Nor do such beliefs—or their public declaration—render anyone unfit for office. 

Ultimately, your argument is with Jesus Himself.  It is an argument you cannot win. 

In any given week, approximately 79 credit card offers find their way to our mailbox.  So awhile back, I caved in to an invitation from American Airlines to receive their Platinum Select card.   In addition to one free checked bag for my wife and me, the big pay-off this card dangled was Group 1 boarding status. 

Diana and I were excited to try out these new perks, standing in line at O’hare airport. Our suitcases were checked in free, just as advertised.  The boarding process, however, was another story.  

Turns out Platinum Select is not nearly as exclusive a class as they made it sound. Before those of us in Group 1 were allowed to board, we watched as wave after wave of other people glided by.  It began with First Class and active duty U. S. Military. Next was the Executive Platinum group, followed by the One World Emerald group.

Still grounded…

Surely it was now our turn to board next, right?  Nope.  We watched as the Platinum Pro, Platinum and One World Sapphire folks headed down the ramp. 

Our turn now, yes?  No.  Still grounded.  The parade of the privileged continued with the gate attendant’s invitation for Gold and One World Ruby members to board. 

Still others who leapfrogged over those of us with “Group 1” status: Alaska Airlines MVP members, AirPass, Citi/Aadvantage Executive card members.  Oh, and there was one last group: anyone who purchased priority boarding!          

Demoted!

American Airlines has since restructured their boarding process and those zillions of boarding classes are now given a number.  The Group 1 status I was so proud of has been demoted to Group 5.  So much for perks.

However confusing (not to mention misleading) the American Airlines boarding circus may have been, when it comes to eternity, the categories are hauntingly simple.  Scripture says there are only two classes of travelers: those who are headed straight for heaven and those who are headed straight for hell.  That’s it.

In Matthew 25:46, Jesus plainly tells us, “These (anyone who has rejected Christ) will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous (those made righteous by receiving Christ) into eternal life.”

That you have an eternal soul is a settled fact.  The only question is where you will spend your eternity.  Now is the time to get this issue settled.  Today.  The Word of God urges you in 2 Corinthians 6:2, “I tell you, now is the time of God’s favor.  Now is the day of salvation.”

Heaven or hell.  Sounds strange, but it really is a choice—yours.  So…what’s your choice?