Following Under the Influence

Last Wednesday morning (the 2nd), I was sitting in a Starbucks, enjoying a wonderful conversation with the retired, long-time pastor of Falls Presbyterian Church, Neil Tolsma. On the front-end of my own ministerial journey, I love collecting the wisdom of those on the tail-end. Pastor Tolsma is an emotional Dutchman who grew up on a dairy overlooking the New York City skyline, sat under the teaching of some of the most eminent 20th century theologians, and labored for decades in relative anonymity for the sake of the elect--known and unknown (2 Tim. 2:10). He's a book that writes itself!

Little did I know how that cozy time of edifying conversation would give way to the raw, wind-bitten nature of Army life! On Friday afternoon, after Pastor Ben helped me pick up and bring home our new dining room table, I left my wife with a valuable helper (thank you, Gram!) and sojourned across Wisconsin to my unit in Eau Claire. While I love hotel rooms (thank you, Army!), I go stir-crazy in the silence and have to keep the TV on the whole time. Oh, how I hate silence (except in prayer, but even then, I often pray out loud).

My Saturday at the unit began relatively normal. I mingled with soldiers and engaged in some basic apologetics with one skeptic-friend. I then drove my (borrowed--thank you, Pastor Ben!) car through the open entrance of the the barbed wire gate in order to carry some boxes of books and other belongings inside. Pretty soon, I was ensnared in another conversation (I love it!) with a fellow believer and one of the few black men in small town Wisconsin (by his account and my observation).

My brigade chaplain then arrived with two chaplain assistants in tow to take me 1.5 hours away to Ft. McCoy so I could give the benediction for a change of command ceremony. Really, Chaplain Bacon was just using the ceremony as an excuse to come and spend time with me. A wonderful older brother in the faith. We walked past my car, through the barbed wire gate, to an awaiting vehicle. In the early evening--after a wonderful time with those brothers--I gave the benediction and visited with the commands of my units throughout the state (Eau Claire is simply the headquarters) and came back in the dark. I arrived at the Reserve Center, to find my car trapped behind the barbed wire.

I had the men take me to my hotel instead, and mapped my course to foot-march the 3.7 miles to the Reserve Center in full uniform at 0700 the next morning. I texted a soldier at the unit to let the command know that I would be late in any case. I ordered a wake-up call for 0630, then called a soldier who had prevented his brother from committing suicide a few days prior. The soldier was still shake up (obviously!) and he let me pray with him over the phone. I don't think I've ever had a soldier refuse in circumstances like those. I got to bed at a late hour, dreading the wake-up call that was drawing closer by the minute.

At 0720, I woke up to the startling realization that the wake-up call never...well...roused itself to do its work. I was about to turn into a spinning flurry of activity when I received a call (0721) from a female soldier who was struggling with depression. Out of a dead sleep, I spent the next 35 minutes counseling and caring for her. She talked openly of her brokenness and also of her interest in various religions and their common teaching on the "law of love." I spoke to her of a human brokenness--that she knows all to well--that can't by nature conjure up such love. The love of God is found in Christ being broken for broken people. (Remember, it was 07-whatever so I wasn't nearly that articulate. I sounded like Barry White had swallowed a frog.)

I got to the unit in time to lead a chapel in the company commander's office. About half a dozen soldiers attended, as well as a young boy (it was family day). I offered a 15 minute sermonette on the true nature of sin and the need for the Gospel from the aftermath of David's affair with Bathsheba. Soon after, I jumped in the car and drove back across the state--stopping briefly to grab lunch to-go from Culver's and arrive at my Milwaukee unit with 20 minutes to spare before I need to lead their chapel.

It turns out that the Milwaukee unit is really just 15 minutes from my house, in the same complex as the recruiters' company. I will be there often, Lord-willing. I introduced myself to the 200+ soldiers, then enjoyed another brief chapel service with about 20 of them. I preached on the man born blind from John 9 and the need to understand and embrace the true Gospel (not the feel good, "I'm a good person" version). I had a good discussion with several of them afterward.

I went home, grabbed my little ginger-bread boy and rushed off to the evening service at Falls. I was bleary-eyed and absent-minded as I tried to keep the little one in check, especially as he began pushing furniture and yelling during the congregational prayer. I put him in the nursery. The cool thing--no matter how he behaves--he always loves to pray and sing hymns with Daddy in the car. He will pray and sing simultaneously with me--as if he knows the words--then cries out "I pray!" or "I sing!" Adorable and a reflection of God's glorious grace.

That blurry weekend really found its culmination on Monday night, when my wife graciously allowed me to go to a local bar to watch the Redskins on Monday Night Football. Down time? I think not! While my Redskins were working hard to lose to the Dallas football team (I will not use the name), I found out that my bartender is a 10-year vet from my unit! He got put out of the Army after breaking his back in a fall out of a second story window in Iraq (don't ask). We became Facebook friends on the spot (which means we also have to be friends in real life, right?). We also had a great time talking during the course of the game.

The next night, with a bit more rest under my belt, I joined the American Legion for their Christmas potluck. Just before dinner, they asked me to say a prayer. I walked up, and one of the 40 or so elderly people there yelled out "HE'S A CHAPLAIN?" Earlier, one of the vets made sure that I had been carded at the bar. THIS, my friends, is why I grow out my facial hair and grizzled grays in between army drills.

After the potluck, an older woman came up to me and described herself as a widow. I asked her how long. She said 38 years. Her husband was electrocuted in a freak accident in his mid-30s, leaving behind an 11 year old boy and 6 year old girl. This widow wanted to know why that happened. I told her that the better (and more comforting) question is not "Why?" but "Who?". Who did God send to show His heart toward death and His power over death? (John 11). We only have God's Word to deal with such questions--and it is sufficient. And we know that God has the final word over death.

In all of the recent episodes, I remember Paul's words to Timothy in his final letter--"I am chained even to the point of that of a criminal, but the Word is not chained" (2 Tim. 2:8-9). In a week like this, I feel my chains, but keep moving by God's grace. The Word is not chained.

Yesterday, the session formally approved my sermon series on a book of the Bible featuring several other widows: Ruth. For the next four weeks, I hope to show how God works in and through our brokenness to great and glorious ends--if only we will open our eyes. Flyer below, and with that, I bid you all adieu and God's peace.

Churchill

One mark of a great biography is found in the ability to make a very old death newly devastating.

I turned the final page of the final volume on Winston Churchill by William Manchester (really, Paul Reid after Manchester's death), and felt the pangs of the inevitable, yet titanic loss of perhaps the greatest leader of the 20th century.

Here are a few reasons why you should love Churchill:

1) He, and Britain with him, stood alone against a seemingly invincible tyrant in Hitler. In the early 1940's, Hitler and Stalin--the last century's greatest monsters--carved up Poland like a turkey, before Hitler wiped out the rest of western Europe and pulverized England with wave after wave of bombers ("The Battle of Britain"). Remember, the Soviet Union was Hitler's ally, France was crushed with barely a fight, and the United States was entangled in isolationism. Britain stood alone. Yet they stood.

2) Churchill alone was able to call Britain from the moral equivocations of Neville Chamberlain (the previous Prime Minister) to a renewed moral vigor that would sustain them in the dark days ahead. Churchill knew that Hitler was posing both a moral and mortal threat to Britain and the West, and instilled with the courage of his convictions, was able to call Britain to stand upon the vast inheritance of Western civilization and withstand Hitler's onslaught. Only the light of moral conviction and ground courage in such moments, and Churchill lit the lamp.

3) Churchill, unlike the more pragmatic Franklin Roosevelt, saw the threat that Soviet communism posed to the free world and sought to thwart it. To give FDR his due, his pragmatism enabled him to navigate America's isolationism and eventually guide them into the war. He also was dynamic in his own right. Yet, he lacked Churchill's sense of moral conviction--that Western values are just of worthy of our blood as Western peoples. As a result, FDR consistently spurned Churchill in favor of "Uncle Joe" Stalin. FDR's progressive idealism blinded him to the evils of communism and he was unable at times to distinguish true friends and foes. Churchill, on the other hand, worked vigorously to restrain the shadow of Soviet tyranny.

4) He was a modern renaissance man. Not only could Churchill call forth courage in the face of seemingly invincible evil, but he was an unparalleled orator and parliamentarian, an artist of the highest caliber, and a Nobel Prize-winning author. In other words, he was a genius. Few men are endowed with such gifts--and quite a few of them are quite quirky. Even fewer are endowed with the ability to harness such intellectual gifts in order to lead a people.

On January 24th, 1952, Churchill's top aide, Jock Colville, walked in on him while he was shaving. Churchill told Colville that his father had died on that day many years before, and that he would die on that day as well. On January 24th, 1965, Winston Churchill indeed breathed his last. The Queen had a stone placed in the floor of Westminster that simply read "Remember Winston Churchill."

We could do much worse than heed those words and heed the man.

Of Heresy Hounds and Lukewarm Lovers

I was not called up to Falls Presbyterian Church so that I could simply share the Gospel with lots of people of behalf of the church. Rather, I was called to cultivate a culture within the church--a culture that desires to engage the surrounding community to the glory of God.

Such a culture is a direct outgrowth of the Gospel. Think, for example, of the beautiful portrait of God's love for sinners that is found in the Prodigal Sons parable of Luke 15. There, you see a heart that is both able and willing to retrieve a lost sinner at great personal cost.

Yet, while such a culture is a direct outgrowth of the Gospel, it is not an accidental outgrowth. Sinners within the church are not immediately perfected so that they display the very heart of God. Often times, they display the calloused, self-righteous heart of the Elder Brother in the Prodigal parable--unwilling to bear any burden for the "sinner over there."

This self-righteous heart is often manifested through two seemingly opposite personalities: The Heresy Hounds and the Lukewarm Lovers. The Heresy Hounds are not as concerned with salvation and growth as they are with precise formulations of complex truths. For example, some may have known Jesus for a short time, but if they haven't resolved whether they are infralapsarian or supralapsarian, they are to be viewed with suspicion and browbeaten (intentionally exaggerating here).

The Heresy Hounds fit the stereotype of the Elder Brother quite nicely, but the Lukewarm Lovers are just as deadly. The Lukewarm Lovers are willing to open the heavenly gates as far as possible to let people in, but end up forgetting that it is pierced hands that open those gates to some and not others. They are willing to take the Gospel for granted, and perhaps leave people ignorant in their sinful estate.

The church culture that flows from the Gospel and impacts the surrounding community is one that doesn't trample over the cross as part of a moral crusade or go around the cross in order to be sensitive. It brings sinners--inside and outside the church--before the beautiful, horrible cross.

All of that said, part of cultivating that culture is simply getting people from the church out into the community. There is something about being "out there"--often times in uncomfortable situations--that makes believers more dependent upon Jesus and desirous to see Him at work.

On Thursday, a handful of church members joined me for our first ever Turkey Trot. We were joined by one friend in the community. Only one? Jesus certainly doesn't mind only one (Luke 15). Again, sometimes it's just about getting out there!

On Saturday, 17 members of our church joined me at the Falls Presbyterian Church booth at the downtown Christmas market. We likely interacted (briefly) with over a hundred people, handed out Bibles, books, invitation cards, and hot chocolate. I ran into neighbors of mine and chatted with them for a while as well.

I learned a number of valuable lessons about this event for next year (i.e., arrive earlier, hand out cards more often, spread our people out amongst the crowd, better signage, etc), but here are a few blessings from Saturday:

1) About 15% of our church came out to this event they knew nothing about and on short notice.

2) In the process, we all were made a bit uncomfortable.

3) We also raised the profile of the church within the downtown community.

4) We relied upon each other. Outreach is a team sport. There is power in having different people with different gifts, all seeking the glory of the Lord who saved them.

One young man told me recently that he found one of our cards on a lawn he was about to mow. He wasn't sure if that was good news or bad--should we care that our cards are treated like trash? Not at all. Most of these cards--like most business cards--will be thrown away. But it takes a set of hands to throw one of these cards away, and we can pray for those hands. May our cards make their way onto park benches, lawns, and into trash receptacles throughout the Falls!

Getting Graded on the Gospel

I rehearsed my first official Toastmasters speech (the "Icebreaker") a time or two in the car. I wanted to make sure I shared the right stories and struck the right tone. My speech was entitled "Worst of Hypocrites" (re-telling here is based on memory, since I don't use notes).

"My name is Stephen Roberts. I am a follower of Jesus Christ, a husband to my best friend, a father of two children that I adore, and...sad, but true...a hypocrite.

I know that hypocrisy is the reason why many claim to reject Christianity, and if you are one of those people, then I am the guy you're talking about. I am a hypocrite, and it runs in my family.

(My dad, in his repentance, is very gracious with me speaking about our past.)

My parents became Christians when they were in college--as hard as it might be for some of you to believe--I know people can often take Christianity for granted out here.

A few years after getting married and having their first batch of kids, my dad's business collapsed. He became very depressed and was prone to despair. This from the same guy who took us to church week after week to hear about the one source of true hope in the world!

His depression wasn't tied up in a neat, little bow, but gave way to anger. He took his children to Sunday School week after week to hear about a Savior who bore the world's anger, but didn't repay it in kind. Yet he manifested that same anger toward his family.

But who am I to point the finger at my dad?

When I became a Christian, in many ways, I was a jerk. Even though I believed that my new faith was a sheer gift of grace, I berated others for not embracing an obvious truth--as if it had been obvious to me!

And my hypocrisy continues to the present day. Tonight, I led my family in prayer around the dinner table. Yet, earlier in the day, I was impatient toward my little boy--who bares all my same traits!--and with my wife, who is so wonderfully different from me. I had the gall to lead the family I hadn't loved well before the Lord in prayer.

I am a hypocrite, but not without hope. In fact, I think that we are all hypocrites--striving for standards or ideals that we can't possibly keep. I am and will always be a hypocrite. I strive to keep the law of God. How can I possible keep God's law when I am a mere man, broken under the weight of my own sin and suffering? My hope is found in the fact that God sent His Son to fully keep that law in my place, so that I can get up each day anew and strive to keep it in gratitude.

But let's leave the language of hypocrisy. I think it best to describe people as messes. We are all messes, broken under the weight of our sin and suffering, The question is "Whose mess?" You are either God's mess or your own mess. I am God's mess.

God tells us in His Word that "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners (and Paul adds), of whom I am the worst. But it was for this very reason, that in me, the worst of sinners, He might display His unlimited patience as an example for those who might believe and have eternal life."

When you see me, you will not see strength, but weakness; Not wisdom, but foolishness. But I hope that you will also see that I am God's mess. I hope that you will see that His same patience can be your hope.

I sincerely thank you for your time."

Here are a few excerpts of the written feedback on the substance of my speech:

"We are messes--like that description. Great message about being a hypocrite. You told a story. People love hearing messages in a story. It's relatable. Very sincere, nice pace--voice loud and clear. Great enthusiasm."

"As an active church goer, I sympathized and could think of examples from my own experience."

"Confident, powerful, sincere...Good introduction; content came from the heart. Great message for us to apply to ourselves. Everything "vocal" was excellent."

"It was personal, informative and teaching/preaching. Very enthusiastic, forceful. It was fast at the end, but that is you!"

"Your ability to tell a story makes me feel like I'm transported to the moments in the past as you described your very personal story. We got to know you extremely well since you were so open about yourself...The speech was well structured, but flowed freely. Like a great conversation with a friend. I wouldn't ask you to change anything about the speech. I like how personal and humble the story was. For most people, it's difficult to own up to our flaws. I like that you shared your faith openly and how it makes you the person that you are."

For my own part, I love having a captive audience for whatever it is I want to share. And I love that they need to pay rapt attention in order to take notes. :) I also appreciate the feedback and believe I'll grow from it, by God's grace.

If any of you in the Falls area would like to practice your public speaking and/or share your faith with others, come and visit this fun club! We meet every other Monday at 6:30pm at Uno Chicago Grill. Come put your mess on display!

Further Inroads: A Status Report

Greetings, Friends.

It has been a while since I've written, and for good reason: We've finally closed on our house. It's more than a house. It's a blessing to us and an instrument of blessing to others.

We feel truly blessed here. On the same day as the closing, a number of church members joined me in loading up a U-Haul at our storage unit, and then unloading it at the house. Thanks to their labor of love, the whole process took about two hours. The next morning, another group of folks from the church came to our house and helped us unpack about 90% of our belongings. Our hyperactive toddler has plenty of room to run around, and our little infant girl can crawl to her heart's delight.

Due to this tremendous show of support, our family has not been completely swamped with unpacking. Last Monday, I officially joined the Toastmasters, waited for the impromptu speech portion, pulled a coin out of a bag, and spoke about the year on the coin and what it meant for me.

2012. That was the year in which my wife and unborn baby went under the knife. That was the year I prayed that the Lord would take me instead of my wife and child. That was the last year I would have with my wife and child before I would deploy and potentially have my prayer answered. But I could bear 2013, because the Lord had blessed my 2012.

On Wednesday, I conducted my first run "meetup" in the bitter cold behind A.J. O'Brady's pub. I met a new Catholic friend on that run, and he joined me afterward at the Legion bar for a drink. We talked for about an hour, and shared some banter with some of the men at the bar. This new friends has borne a great deal of heartache. Let us pray that his trail of tears become for him a pathway of grace.

"They make the vale of tears a spring, with showers of blessing covering." (Paraphrase of Psalm 84:6 in the Psaltar hymnal)

Early this week, I took over the Meetup group that was formerly devoted to the Menomonee Falls Young Professionals. The online portion was about to be shut down, and the group allowed me to re-purpose the site. I have tentatively called in "Dinner, Drinks, and Deep Discussions" after the same-titled group in Sterling, Virginia. I am not sure how best to reach the surrounding community with this group, nor what form it should take. Please pray that the Lord would give me wisdom in this matter!

Yesterday, I met with a troubled teen and his mentor, who attends our church in the evening. This young man lives in a home with his adopted mom, an array of adopted siblings, and his mom's live-in boyfriend, who constantly threatens him. His mom likewise threatens to give him up to foster care (a virtual death sentence for a young man of his age). By God's grace, the state of Wisconsin has a program that allows at-risk teens to do five months of dual training/learning at Ft. McCoy. In His providence, I will drive by Ft. McCoy every time I go to my drill at Eau Claire, and a number of our drills will actually be in the field at Ft. McCoy. That means that I can probably visit this kid once a month. This kid also represents the community we're trying to reach in the greater Falls area--broken under the weight of sin and suffering and in need of grace (just like us!).

Today was probably the best of them all. The soldiers at the local recruiting station secured me an invite to their monthly gathering in nearby north Milwaukee (15 minutes from our house). Upon my arrival, the Company Commander told me how much they've longed for chaplain support over the years and told me of a number of the ways he hoped I could get involved. He then gave me an hour to just talk with the gathering of recruiters from all over the Milwaukee area. It was a precious time. They saw my heart for them, and responded in kind. They took almost all of my business cards and church invitation cards, and a number of them said they'd be in touch. This will hopefully be the first step in the intertwining of my pastoral and chaplain callings in and around Menomonee Falls.

This afternoon, I visited the head of the Business Improvement District in downtown Menomonee Falls. She oversees all of the businesses and improvement projects in that area. I secured a booth for Falls Presbyterian next Saturday at the Christmas Market--a fair of sorts for the community where independent businesses will advertise their goods inside the downtown businesses. Ironically, our church booth will be in The Main Mill--a prominent pub. For four hours, folks from our church will hand out free Bibles, books, invitation cards, candy, and (hopefully) hot chocolate.

Only two days before that fair, I will host the first Menomonee Falls "Turkey Trot" on Thanksgiving morning. It will probably not draw many people--only two have signed up so far on Meetup--and we're starting late in the ballgame. But it will be a good trial for what could be the first annual Menomonee Falls Turkey Trot next year, supported by the downtown Business Improvement District. Both the trial run this year and the potential run next year would draw attention both to the charming downtown of the largest village in Wisconsin, as well as to the host church--Falls Pres--which will bring all donated goods to the local food pantry.

For those of year in the area, please consider coming to both of these events next week!

One final note--our church family has been amazing. Several men in the church diagnosed and fixed our plumbing issues and have offered their services for other handyman projects. Families continuously drop off meals, and some have given us extra frozen meals for later. One family heard that we lacked a microwave and dropped one off for us tonight. Meanwhile, the elders have constantly offered me wise counsel to further hone the work I try to do, and at the same time eagerly encourage me to act boldly. I am pretty sure that this sure has already metaphorically offered us the shirt off of its back.

All of this reminds us, of course, of the wise words once preached by my friend, Phil Proctor: This is not my ministry, nor our ministry. This is God's ministry. He has simply privileged us, by grace through in Jesus to Christ, to take part in His breathtaking work.

Random Tidbits and Prayer Requests

It's the small things. I already shared a little bit about my time with one of my Army units this weekend, so I probably don't need to tell you that these are tiring weekends. I may be a bubbly extrovert, but imposing yourself upon dozens of strangers from the early hours of the morning until the early hours of the evening is not easy work!

But God's grace is ample and sufficient. I forgot my coffee when I left home yesterday morning for my hour-long car trip. So I stopped by a charming independent coffee place in small town called Mukwanago (try pronouncing that!). The staff and customers all greeted me warmly, thanking me for my service, and the owner gave me a $5 gift card for coffee in the future. We'll be back!

During my lunch break at McDonalds, as I was following the beat down of my hometown Redskins, parents kept approaching me with their children, and each of the kids would come up to me and thank me for my service. One dad told me that his boys were all in the Scouts and suggested that they might become soldiers some day. I sure hope so.

For all of the frustrations attendant to the Army life, especially in the Reserve world, there is still a striking cultural difference between this institution and the culture at large: It doesn't turn victims into celebrities; It turns servants into heroes.

I won't usually have this privilege when I'm drilling in Eau Claire (four hours away), but I was able to join my family for the evening worship service at Falls Presbyterian and hear an encouraging sermon from Romans 8 on suffering and hope. I was tired and distracted, but because the Word does not return void, I came away blessed.

The Bible and the Egg. Thankfully, there's no debate here as there is with the chicken and the egg. The Word was the means by which God created this world, and the expression of His will for it. That said, we recently found a Bible verse printed on the inside of our egg carton. This pleasant surprise joins a box of Angry Orchard Hard Cider, which had a Gospel message folded up and tucked inside the box. Welcome to the Midwest, where more folks wear their faith on their sleeve (and egg carton) and haven't been shamed into silence.

Religion and politics. I'm always nervous when I think of how best to employ my great passion for politics. It stirs up great emotion in most people (often unhappy emotion) and becomes an unfortunately means for defining someone prior to any substantive exchange on a personal or spiritual level. Despite this nervousness, many of my best Gospel engagements over the years have occurred at local polling places with people from both parties. As always, I must pray for wisdom and work to be winsome and personal by God's grace. Thankfully, I do not have to choose between the pastorate and politics. Fundamentally, I am a Christian and can love the Savior who first loved me through whatever task the Lord sets before me.

This morning, I met with the county volunteer coordinator for my given party, and plan to get plugged in a hopefully write/ghost-write op-eds in support of this movement over the coming year. I will attend a rally for my favorite presidential contender this afternoon and aside from enjoying a great speech, will have plenty of cards on hand for folks who may be interested in meal or a church.

Prayer Requests

Please pray for my participation in this political rally this afternoon, and for my second gathering with the Toastmasters tonight--that the Lord would give me at least one opportunity in each venue to say something of the Gospel. And please pray that I would seize those opportunities, by His grace.

Please pray for my American Legion meeting tomorrow night and my first running meetup on Wednesday night, that again, the Lord would give me opportunities to know people, love them, and share with the true hope of Jesus Christ.

By God's grace, we will be closing on our house this Friday. Please pray that the whole process would go smoothly and that we would be able to quickly switch into our hosting-gear and start fulfilling the promise of a meal, drink, and good conversation that I have made to so many!

Please also pray for my family. They have borne the weight (and wait) of about six months of uncertainty and trying transitions--practically the whole of our baby girl's life! Please pray that amidst all of the new (and wonderful changes), the Lord would help me to re-focus on my marriage and family and enable us to have some routine and stability!

Army Life Is Always Active

I visited one of our subordinate units this weekend in a place called Sturtevant (near Racine, south of Milwaukee).

Yesterday, I spent most of the day walking the hallways and visiting with the soldiers. When I first joined the Army, this type of introductory work intimidated me. I would walk the hallways aimlessly, shooting smiles at passing soldiers and hoping that someone would stop and want to talk. Now, I am much more at ease engaging a host of new faces. I can go up, shake a hand, introduce myself, and ask some basic questions (Where are you from? How long have you been in the Army? Married? Kids?).

There's a different breed of soldier out here.Virtually all of them are from Wisconsin or Chicago and are homegrown. Most have never gone through a divorce--either their own or their parents--though most are still acquainted with death. And most of the soldiers of this particular detachment of Army firefighters have never deployed. Unlike many soldiers I have known, these soldiers love coming to drill and there is a great espirit de corps.

The leaders of this unit clearly love their soldiers. While most of the soldiers haven't deployed, their NCOs have--numerous times. These NCOs are reachable at all hours of the day and take great pride in being able to care for their soldiers. One NCO today talked about coming home from Iraq and the older veterans who greeted his unit at the terminal at 1 in the morning. He got choked up.

At this morning's chapel service, virtually the whole detachment showed up (some 20 soldiers or so). This included a Muslim soldier from Iraq who I befriended yesterday. I read Isaiah 53 and we sang the first verse of Amazing Grace--a staple of chapel services conducted on the fly. I then read and preached from Matthew 27, when the Son of God was put on trial by mankind.

I emphasized the clear innocence of Jesus on that day, and the equally clear verdict of mankind (including us) to kill him. We do not reject Jesus because we don't see Him in the flesh or lack the miracles. We do not reject Jesus because Christians are hypocrites. We (mankind) had Him in the flesh, along with His miracles. And Jesus Christ, of all born in this world, was no hypocrite. We rejected Jesus because we hate God by nature, and thus killed the Son of God in the flesh.

The beauty of that passage comes with the knowledge that soon after the people cried out "His blood on us and our children" and invoked God's curse upon themselves, Jesus cried out "Father, forgive them" and shed His blood in mercy, not judgment. And though the criminal Barabbas deserved to die, it was the innocent Jesus who bore the death he deserved. Oh that we would confess hearts like Barabbas, that we would truly savor a Savior like Jesus!

Every soldier took one of my cards, and I hope that I am able to follow up with some of them in the future. I let them know that there's always a place at our table and an open bed in our home. I wish I could follow up with them every month, but am tied to the "mother" unit in Eau Claire. Pray that the Lord would bless this brief excursion with future opportunities to share the Gospel and love on soldiers!