Am I A Christian?

 

It was an unusually cold Thanksgiving, one in which we got an early snow fall. My cousins from the south were visiting for the holidays and were excited (perhaps overly so) to see snow for the first time. They woke up the morning after it snowed, ready to head outside with all of them yelling, “Snow! Snow! Snow!” Before anyone could stop them, they ran outside and dove in, without any coats or gloves or anything else that should have been part of the routine. And just as quickly as they had run out, they came running back in yelling, “Cold! Cold! Cold!” It was then that the decision was made that we needed to take them to buy some winter gear.

Later that day, during our shopping trip, I found myself sitting in the back of my grandmother's Grand Torino station wagon with my cousins. There were so many of us that we had to pull up the third-row seat, which in a station wagon faced backwards leaving some of us looking out of the back window. I’m not sure why but as we watched the traffic behind us, one of my cousins asked if I was a Christian. I told them all that I did not know. I was then asked if I went to church. In fact, I had three churches on rotation depending on whom I was with. My dad was Lutheran, my mom was Missionary Baptist, and my grandmother occasionally went to a church that I think may have been nondenominational. I visited at least one of those churches each week, although very rarely did I go to the same one two weeks in a row. So, my answer to my cousins’ question was, “Yes, I do go to church,” which I said with pride without telling them that my attendance was not voluntary. In response I was told that by going to church I was in fact a Christian.

For several different reasons, I was never comfortable with the idea that going to church made me a Christian. The idea that simply walking into a building made me a Christian seemed…well…empty. In fact, it seemed as empty as everything else in my life at the time as I lived…correction…survived the day to day of being a codependent teenager. God was the furthest thing from my mind, even during those two or three hours every Sunday morning and so I just could not see how going to church made me a Christian. It wasn’t until I was in college that I learned that it didn’t.

It was at that time that a friend gave me a book that took everything that I learned in Sunday School, and in confirmation class, and explained how it all pointed to one man: Jesus. In response, I looked at Jesus for the first time and really started learning what He taught. From these studies I learned about God’s gift of salvation through which He offers life and freedom from the burden of sin. I also learned that how I respond to His offer determines whether I am a Christian or not. I accepted His offer and am blessed to be able to say that I am a Christian.

So, what exactly was His offer and what is it that makes a person a Christian? Keep an eye out for a future post where I will explain.

This is My Name Forever – Part One

 

Exodus 3:14-15

Was Moses still afraid or was he just curious?  Either way Moses asks a very logical question in Exodus 3:13. He asks God to tell him what he should say when the leaders of Israel ask for the name of the God who has sent him. At the time, Israel lived within the polytheistic culture of Egypt in which each god had a name and a specific domain in which to operate. I suspect this made it easy to know who to pray towards for whatever specific problem one might be having. Afterall, you didn’t want to inadvertently pray to the god of the Sun if what you really needed was rain.

So along with asking for direction on what he should say (and do), Moses was asking God to give him something that he could say to the people of Israel to help them distinguish Him form all the false gods of the land of Egypt. Most likely there were still some who taught and believed in the God of their fathers, but all of Israel had long been exposed to Egypt’s culture and religion. As a result, Moses’ success rested on Israel learning about this God who spoke from a burning bush and discovering what domain fell under His control. And so, Moses asks for a name and for an identity that he could give to the people so that they might know who it was that they should believe in.

For the record, I am not a Bible scholar and so I turned to a few different Bible commentaries to see what they had to say about God’s answer: “I Am That I Am.” (Exodus 3:14 KJV), which the New King James translates to “I Am Who I Am.” Several of the commentaries point to the fact that we really do not have the words to accurately translate what is said, with The Pulpit Commentary stating that, “I will be that I will be,” as a more literal translation.

I’ll write about what this statement likely means in my next post. Today, I just want to point out that God answered Moses’ prayer by revealing His glory: by revealing who He really is. The answer started with this somewhat cryptic answer but as we will see when we explore its meaning, the answer continued as God demonstrated His power through both the plagues and by delivering His people out of the oppression they were suffering at the hands of the Egyptians.

Moses needed to know God before he could fulfill his mission and the same is true for us today. I believe that if we earnestly pray, asking God to reveal Himself, He will certainly answer. It may take time to understand the answer, but in the end, I believe that we will be blown away by what we learn. Ask God to reveal Himself. He likely will need to do some work on your heart to prepare you for the answer, but once He does, you will have the opportunity to learn the truth about the one and only living God.

Prayer and Big Red Fire Engines

 

There’s still a part of me that likes seeing trucks, trains and cars with sirens on them (except when they’re hiding along the highway). I’m blessed by the fact that when I need to go into the city, I get to ride a train and sometimes along the way, my commuter train passes a freight train that runs on a parallel track just after we cross into Philly. Just the sound of a diesel locomotive takes me back to fun times playing with toy trains as a kid as I try to guess from its sounds if the train is running loaded or empty.

Then there’s the joy of seeing an 18-wheeler cruising down the highway, be it a flatbed, a dry van or a car carrier. Those remind me of times crawling around with an old Tanka, back when they were made of metal and were as tough as any other toy out there. I wish I still had some of my old Tanka trucks or even my old Tanka crane which easily stood four feet in the air when its boom was raised to its highest point.

Speaking of childhood, there’s a young child who lives in my neighborhood who seems to love pretending to be a fireman. I’ve seen him riding around in a fireman’s turnout coat as he makes what sounds like a real siren, heading for a pretend emergency. It looks and sounds like he’s having fun, almost as much fun as it would be to ride on a big red fire truck. But for me, the sound of a siren always triggers mixed feelings. Hearing one reminds me of pretending to be a policeman or a fireman, but as an adult, it also reminds me of the dangers our first responders often face as well as the fact that someone at some destination needs emergency help in one form or another.

So, while I enjoy the sights and sounds of an emergency vehicle, they have also become a reminder that someone needs prayer. I pray for the person or people who are waiting for a First Responder to arrive. I pray for the police officer(s), or firemen, or paramedics who are responding to the call, often without truly knowing what they are getting ready to walk into. They need divine protection and I thank God that He goes into each situation with those who run towards danger.

For me, a red fire engine is a reminder to salute our First Responders, being thankful for all they do. It is also a reminder that they need our support and our prayer, as they put their lives on the line to protect all of us.