Author: Jon Gauger

I have a plan for making America great!

It has nothing to do with Donald Trump or the Republican party or the Democratic party either.

It has everything to do with the simple biblical premise of Psalms 33:12, “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.”  Now, follow my logic.

The only way any nation can rightly be described as one “whose God is the Lord” is if the dominant voice and view of that nation is God-honoring.   The only way that will happen is if the majority of us seek to please God by making others aware of His offer of salvation and a redeemed way of living.

Solution lies with us!

What I’m saying is, the solution is not in the impossible mists “out there somewhere.”   The solution lies—in large part—with us.  The way to make America great is to make Christ magnified! This happens as you and I share Christ with our neighbors through godly lives, uncommon kindness and words of witness. 

It is not enough to merely “live the life” or “walk the walk.”  Jesus did not merely do good deeds.  He spoke the gospel message.  And so must we. 

• We are saddened by the unraveling of morality in America…but do we share Christ?
• We are shocked by the violence in our cities and neighborhoods…but do we share Christ?
• We are depressed by the greed and gouging that describes not just corporate America…but most of America…yet do we share Christ?
• We are fearful of a segment of immigrants we think might bring destruction…but do we share Christ?

One more time…

When we choose to share Christ, we will surely be much closer to “that nation whose God is the Lord.”  Look for less crime.  Less greed.  Less immorality.  Less poverty. Just a few benefits of living in a nation whose God is the Lord! 

We must share Christ.  Not to make America great…but to magnify our God!

Carl Henry said, “The gospel is only good news if it gets there in time.” 

Isn’t it time we made time…to share Christ in America?

The idea was doomed from the start. In a well-intentioned attempt at physical fitness, I agreed to play racquetball with my son, Tim, Five weeks afterward, my throbbing back still reminded me I shouldn’t have even attempted playing “just a game or two.”  Ouch! It’s one thing to overdo it in sports, but what about the rest of life?

In the book, “If I Could Do It All Over Again,” I asked 28 Christian leaders what would they do less of, given a second chance. Check out these responses.

Less News

Joni Tada admitted, “I would look at a lot less news on the television. I have to confess I’m a news junkie. That’s not a bad thing. It’s just that sometimes it becomes a fixation. It can depress my spirits.”

Ravi Zacharias commented, “I wouldn’t worry as much. God is completely in control.”

Tim Keller says, “I would do less surfing of the Internet, without a doubt. I think the Internet is a friend of information but an enemy of thought. It’s great at snippets of information, but it doesn’t help you think or reason.”

Fewer Movies

George Verwer told me, “I would watch fewer movies. I think some of the films I watched were definitely a waste of time. But the main thing I would like to do less of is sin!”

Tony Evans shared, “I love sports: watching sports and keeping up with sports. But I would probably spend a little less time on sports if I could do it all over again. Plus, I would have traveled a little less.”

Less Critical

Bob Moeller confessed,” I would be less critical of other people. The older I get, the more I realize I haven’t lived other people’s lives. I haven’t been through what they have been through.”

In a culture that practically screams, “Do more!” the notion of doing less is tough to embrace. We are driven––and proud of it. Yet, ironically, for most of us, the only way to be more for Christ is to do less.  Let’s take for our personal vision statement the humble words of John the Baptist, who said of Jesus, “He must increase, but I must decrease” ( John 3:30).

Went to a funeral this week.    A lady my wife had known growing up.  Let's call her Natalie (not her real name).

By the way, have you noticed the way technology has invaded funeral homes?  Gone are the days of the old organ parked in the corner.  Respectable funeral homes now have electronic keyboards.  Forget that old fashioned paper registry book you used to sign to let the grieving family know of your visit.  More often than not these days you’ll sign an iPad.

Instead of mere poster boards sporting yellowed photo collections, most funeral homes today will scan those photos and make them into a DVD that plays at the visitation or memorial service.

Predictable and nostalgic

Such was the case at the funeral home where we found ourselves in Bureau County, Illinois.  The slide show was everything you'd expect.  We saw pictures of Natalie as a young girl growing up in very rural Wyoming, Natalie with her siblings, then Natalie getting married. Next it was snapshots of Natalie's own children…family vacations…various churches where she and her husband ministered over the years.

Punctured my balloon of tranquility

All of this was entirely predictable and nostalgic.  Then I saw something on the screen that punctured my balloon of tranquility–a photo of Natalie volunteering in a home for children who happen to have Down syndrome.   Natalie was seated at a table, surrounded by a bunch of mentally challenged guys.  The slide on the screen showed arrows and names pointing to two of these boys.  One arrow pointed to "Chucky" and the other identified "Peter."  Both were smiling. Both were having a grand time.   And both were the special object of Natalie's focus–for years.

Uncomfortable Questions

As the funeral service continued, I wondered: When my turn comes, will there be even one face on the screen we could draw an arrow toward as someone I've invested in?   Exactly how much of my time and attention is shared with "the least of these?"

Funerals have a way of asking uncomfortable questions of the living.

 

Recently, I emceed an event for Awana Clubs at Northside Gospel Center in Chicago.  Awana—the Bible program—co-founded by Art Rorheim who is 98 years old, soon to be 99.  He stood with great strength and composure, speaking to the crowd who gave him a standing ovation.

What does a 98-year-old man say at an event like this?

• A man who has launched a Bible club attended by more than 2.3 million kids in 102 countries…every week?
• A man who traces his spiritual roots to Paul Rader and the Chicago Gospel Tabernacle.
• A man who has met at least two U.S. Presidents.
• A man who may well never have so public an opportunity to speak again.

I was curious.

It didn’t take him long to get to the point.  Art looked out at the crowd after sharing a few lighter thoughts and said—quote—“There are two kinds of people in this world: those who are going to heaven, and those who are going to hell.”   He then told how many years ago he was given an unexpected glimpse of hell.

A neighboring farm was abruptly engulfed in flames.  From where he stood, Art could easily see the farmer’s entire harvest going up in smoke. 

The man’s cattle were trapped in their pasture by a ring of flames.  Art noted with painful detail that the tongues of these cows dangled from their mouths as the flames drew ever closer. They were beyond rescue.

The farmer, out of pity for the animals, took out his rifle and shot them, one by one.

Forgive me for such a graphic picture.

But maybe…just maybe…you needed to hear that. Hell is still burning.  And every lost soul you meet is headed there.  The cows Art told about were beyond rescue.  But your neighbor is not. Shall we then be shy and self-conscious about offering a word of warning?  I think not!

There are two kinds of people in this world: those who are going to heaven, and those who are going to hell.  

How welcome are children in your church?

The question is not rhetorical.  I am asking you to think carefully. Why shouldn’t we?  We bemoan the sense of disconnect today’s emerging generation feels toward the church, and the many ways they are unplugging.   Yet I wonder if in some ways we haven’t invited them to leave.

"You don't belong!"

“Preposterous!” you say.  “We have many wonderful programs for kids at our church—and they are well attended!”  Maybe you do have a lot of well attended classes and events.  Yet if young kids rarely or never take part in the main event—your Sunday morning worship service—is it possible we are telling them “You kids belong in your special little area…but you really don’t have much to contribute to us adults”? 

Draw a pie chart of last Sunday’s church service, if you dare.  How big a piece of the pie did children get in the actual church service?  Did even one of them play a music solo?  Did an artistic junior high girl read the Scripture passage?   Was the high schooler boy who loves to do stage plays asked to interpret a gospel parable that was mentioned in the sermon?  Why do we seem to hear from the littlest children only at Christmas?    What’s up with that?

Why not?

I ask…

• Why shouldn’t a sixth grader read Scripture from the stage?
• Why shouldn’t a junior high kid play a piano solo as people are being seated…or during the offering time?
• Why shouldn’t the high school youth group—with appropriate guidance—lead the entire morning worship for a given Sunday—music, announcements, sermon and all?!

The answer is….there is no answer. There’s no reason why these things should not be, other than the fact that we have not created church cultures that embrace this kind of thing. 

Too "Professional?"

I’m not talking about tokenism here.   I’m talking about real kids filling real functions in a real service…week after week.

Are we so committed to “professionalism” or a sense of control that we cannot or will not be led by a child? 

Children belong in church.  Not just in their seats—but up on the stage. Leading us!

Do small acts of kindness really matter?

Do they make any real difference?

Does God actually take note of them?

I know the Sunday School answer, of course. I know the theological rubric. (I’m a Moody grad, an ordained minister).   Still, I sometimes wonder. Do you?

Dusting off old memories

This weekend, I attended an Awana “Historic Walls of Fame” event.  We were there to celebrate what God has done in establishing a Bible club now attended weekly by 2. 3 million kids in more than 100 countries. 

When the program was over, I met with someone I hadn’t seen in decades: my very own Awana leader.  Chuck was also my Sunday School teacher—a kind and patient man. Week after week, he listened as I recited verses, or demonstrated mastery of knot tying.   We sat there, dusting off old memories

Then through squinted eyes, Chuck asked, “Hey, Jon, do you remember the time I took you to a Blackhawks game?”

Did I remember? 

As a kid, I won a contest he sponsored at Awana and the prize was an outing to a Chicago Blackhawks game.  He picked me up at home, drove me to the old Chicago Stadium, bought us tickets for the Hawks game.  What a night– the drama on ice, the roar of the crowd…the magic of being there.

Did I remember after more than four decades?  Of course!  I thanked Chuck for his kindness then—and his faithfulness in being a great Awana leader and Sunday School teacher.

Rare and privileged moment

Not everybody gets that kind of opportunity–to reconnect over a kindness shown decade ago.  So it was a rare and privileged moment we shared.

It all makes me glad for heaven—and it should you, too.  For there, every word of encouragement, every thoughtful gesture, every bit of kindness will be seen…and reviewed…and rewarded.

Kindness matters. 

Now.  And for eternity. 

What does courage look like? 

Chiune Sugihara is a name most of us have never heard of.  Yet this man, born in Japan in 1900, is a soul who embodies Christian courage. 

Joining a Christian fraternity at his university, Chiune became proficient at learning languages—English, German, Russian—launching him into a career with Japan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs. 

Bombing Raid 

In 1939, his government placed Chiune at the Japanese consulate in Kaunas, Lithuania.  There, he met a Jewish man who had recently fled Poland after a bombing raid had taken the lives of his wife and children. 

It was then Chiune realized there would be no stopping Hitler’s war from the borders of Lithuania.  He was determined to help the Jewish people living in Lithuania to escape by way of Japan.  Yet the Japanese government rejected Chiune’s proposal. What then?

Conscience Demanded

After praying and talking the matter over with his wife, Chiune did what his conscience demanded. The record shows that on July 31, 1940, he began writing transit visas—by hand—at a rate of 300 people per day.  Witnesses say he worked long hours, took only short meal breaks, and wrote as rapidly as he could. 

Word spread.  On September 4, the Japanese government closed the consulate, ordering Chiune back to Japan.  But he stayed up all night before he was to leave, writing visa after visa. 

"Cannot Write Anymore"

At the station where he was to depart, a crowd of Lithuanian Jews surrounded his train, begging for more visas.  There, he handed out those he has written overnight stating, “Please forgive me.  I cannot write anymore.”   Yet once on the train, he wrote still more visas, tossing them out the open window as the train slowly picked up steam.

No one knows exactly how many people were saved by his courage.  Estimates range from six thousand to ten thousand.

Chiune did what God called Him to do: save lives.   

And that's what courage looks like. 

A comfortable chair, a scenic backdrop—and an all-absorbing book.  That’s what Diana and I call ultimate relaxation. 

Reading is a hobby my wife and I share with gusto.  She reads a wide range of devotional books, historical fiction, cookbooks, and a lot about the British monarchy (she could probably earn a haul on Jeopardy).  I read biographies, westerns, action novels (think Clive Cussler), mysteries (John Grisham, Agatha Christie, Arthur Conan Doyle) plus Christian writers like Tim Keller, Kyle Idleman, Charles Spurgeon, and J.C. Ryle. 

Right now, I'm reading a book by puritan Richard Baxter. I’m learning that any title by this guy is a book worth devouring.  I was struck by a grid he created for choosing—or rejecting—books we allow on to our shelves. Allow me to quote him verbatim.  Baxter advises:

Make careful choices of the books which you read.  Let the Holy Scriptures ever have preeminence. While reading, ask yourself:

1. Could I spend this time no better?

2. Are there better books that would edify me more?

3. Are the lovers of such books as this the greatest lovers of the Book of God and of a holy life?

4. Does this book increase my love to the Word of God, kill my sin, and prepare me for the life to come? 

Now by these standards, I’m afraid some of my reading choices would come up short. What about you?

Really, it all comes down to an appetite for readiness.  Are we hungry for the Lord’s return?  Do we desire Him enough to ready ourselves for Him? I’m reminded of a sobering perspective from 1 Peter 4:7:

The end of all things is near; therefore, be of sound judgment and sober spirit for the purpose of prayer.

Here’s to good reading—all year long.  Quality books whose pages turn us toward Christlikeness, not mere entertainment.

One of the many reasons most of us dread a trip to the dentist is that the news we get there seems disproportionately negative. Whether it’s a simple dental cleaning (“You need to floss more”) or an X-ray (“that spot suggests a problem”) a dental exam is rarely a good news kind of experience.

Open Wide!

May I play the role of the dentist-you-dread for just a moment?  Open wide–we’re about to take an exam based on a discomforting hypothesis of mine.  Simply stated, it goes like this: Most of us Christians have a long list of stuff we claim is important, but apparently isn’t.

For most of us, that list includes things like prayer, Bible reading, sharing our faith.  Your list may vary slightly. But a survey from the Evangelical Alliance suggests that nearly one-fifth of Christians do not even have a fixed prayer habit.  And for those born after 1980, that figure climbs to nearly one-third.

Have not told another person about Christ

42% admit they have a hard time setting aside any regular time for Bible reading or prayer.  The study says—quote—”In practice, only half are managing to do this.”

A Lifeway survey shows 61% have not told another person about how to become a Christian in the previous six months. And 20 percent actually admit they “rarely or never pray for the spiritual status of others.”

Little Anticipation of Following Through

In other words, these things we claim are important to us are really not that important.  (I told you this examination wasn't going to be fun!).

Like friends who haven’t connected for a while and glibly say, “We should have lunch together,” we mean well, but have very little anticipation of actually following through on spiritual disciplines.  Yet merely claiming they are important somehow makes us feel better.

Just One Chance

Folks, we get one shot—just one (very short) turn—at this thing called life.  One chance to impact eternity.  One chance to store up for ourselves treasures in heaven. 

Those things ought to be important enough for us to do.  If not, we should drop the facade and stop claiming they are. 

“Have I got a story for you!”

When my friend, Jack, opens a conversation like that, he usually does. 

“Bob sounded upset.  I could tell.”

Jack was talking about his friend Bob, whom he has known for nearly 30 years.  For more than 20 of those years, Bob and his wife Betty were Jack’s neighbors. 

"If Only I Had More Evidence"

During those years, Jack and his wife, Deanna, tried to witness to them, and shared the gospel on several occasions.  But Bob is extraordinarily independent and convinced that God will somehow squash all of his freedom should he yield his life.  He once claimed, “If only I had more evidence, I could believe.”

But all was not well with Bob, who more than a decade earlier had suffered a heart attack.  The doctor thought perhaps Bob might require a stent or serious surgery.  He was heading into the hospital the next day. 

Anything but heart surgery…

Jack offered to come over and visit—and Bob seemed warm to the idea.  So he and Deanna jumped into their minivan and drove the 15 minutes to Bob’s home, praying that God might somehow use their visit. 

They talked routine things.  Trivial things.  Anything except the prospect of heart surgery.  And then it was time to leave.  I like how Jack paints the picture:

Seemed a bit cowardly

“We were all standing there and I told Bob that Deanna and I would pray for him that night as a couple.  But that seemed a bit cowardly.  So I swallowed hard and blurted out, ‘Hey, could we pray for you guys right now?’  Bob shrugged his shoulders.  Betty was equally quiet.  So we prayed right there in their living room, asking God to bless the doctors with unusual insight.”

Pretty cool, I thought. But Jack had more.

“The next evening, Jack got a call from Bob.  "He says, ‘Hey Jon, I think your prayers must’ve worked.  Doctor said I didn’t need any surgery.  Didn’t even need a stent!  So, uh…thanks a lot for coming over last night.  It meant a lot.’”

Bob is still not a believer.  But I’m convinced he believes that Jack cares an awful lot about him. 

Someday, Bob will know why.

At least, that’s how Jack is praying.