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  "Beth was driving to Guelph with two other women day before yesterday for a Women's Aglow luncheon at one of the hotels. It had been drizzling all morning and the road was really slick. Suddenly an oncoming motorcycle lost its hold and skidded on its side right toward Beth. In her efffort to avoid collision she put the car down into a steep ditch. Almost flipped it over. Everybody was thrown about inside the vehicle. Her two friends managed to get up and out. Only cuts and bruises. Beth was in too much pain to be moved. They phoned for police and checked over the cyclist. Apparently he broke his one leg pinned under the bike in the slide. Another motorist,

  a carpenter in a pick-up, stopped to help."

  "And what's the story with your wife now? Where is she?"

  "Paramedics ascertained that she had broken her collar bone and upper left arm. Also shoulder complications. Took her to Grand River Hospital where things were set, only to discover that there was some unusual nerve damage. Decision was made to ship her to Hamilton hospital for some specialist's assessment and treatment. The kids are staying with their Gramma."

  "So I guess you will be motoring down to Hamilton frequently over the next few days. What about Sunday at the Church?"

  "Ted Brandon has agreed to give a message. He is one of our senior board members. Initially he was really ticked off with my ultimatum from the pulpit three weeks ago. But he has turned around, and is about to start a mid-week discussion group for students from the college. Looks quite promising. Will be part of the new outreach push which we have envisioned."

  "Yeah, Beef, that's one of the main reasons why I suggested this lunch. I have proposed to my associate Craig Randall that he make himself available for Sundays and mid-week over the next three weeks at your place. He seems keen and has shared my curiosity as to your new scheme of things. He really enjoyed that joint men's breakfast which we held about four months ago. Made a couple of new friends. It's good for him in this first year of transition from Winnipeg...So, whatdya say?"

  Sounds like a good idea Todd for two Sundays following this one, and perhaps for some office time on say, Thursdays. But I would really like to leave mid-week with my people. Mustn't give the impression that it is time again to run to the professionals in order to hold the place together. It is their community of faith. Through this moderate inconvenience it is my hope that they will take hold of the reins and grow. As you will recall I made it quite clear that I am no longer the "canal horse". I will try for Tuesdays in the office and some visitations."

  "So you won't say that God caused the accident, but you know that He is going to use it?"

  "Yep...Ah, the salads. Here we go. I'm starved. Bachelor food is lousy."

  ALL STIFF IN STARCHED SHEETS

  Beth awoke with a yelp. What a horrible nightmare! She longed to reach over to Keith for a comforting hug. But no, she was in a hospital, remember?

  The doctor had told her that the recent trauma might produce some crazy things in the sub-conscious. Not to mention the drugs for pain. She felt that she must present an odd picture. Upper body casts. Unsightly purple bruise on the left temple. Stitches at the eyebrow.

  The young woman in the bed opposite had been trying to hide the fact that she was staring. From what Beth had gleaned, Crissy was in for a broken hip from a fall from a second story balcony. Standing on a chair to water some plants. Lost her balance, or so the official story went. Beth suspected that there was some other real scenario.

  "Must have had a bad one, eh?" Crissy looked genuinely concerned, but conversation had been strained. In the two days of Beth's treatment thus far Crissy had had only one visitor, a boyfriend named Steve. He had brought her up-to-date on his employment search. Presumably they shared the apartment and things were strained financially. Her parents were out of province and had phoned twice offering small comfort.

  "Yes Crissy I don't usually have nightmares. This one was a doozy. Lost and alone in a strange community. People suspecting that I had done something terribly wrong. Nightfall setting in. The rest is kinda fuzzy."

  "Nurse popped in about twenty minutes ago with those flowers on your table."

  They were a beautiful surprise. The card was from Bruce and Karen Benton. For some reason she opted to read it aloud: "Hang in there Girl. We are so thankful that you were spared any greater danger. Pretty sore now though, right?"

  A scripture portion had also been included:

  When you pass through the waters,

  I will be with you;

  and when you pass through the rivers,

  they will not sweep over you.

  When you walk through the fire,

  you will not be burned;

  the flames will not set you ablaze.

  For I am the LORD your God,

  the Holy One of Israel, your Savior;

  Crissy did not respond to that, but looked down at the movie magazine in her lap. Thirty seconds later: "What's it like...being a preacher's wife I mean?"

  "Oh it's not so very different. Two kids. School. Shopping. In-laws. House work. A lot of phone calls for my husband from people I hardly know. Two weeks' holidays in the summer. We like to camp. Endless laundry. Women and kids needing a friend to talk to or to pray. And some of the wildest ideas right out of the blue in my conversations with Keith. New ways formulated to express rich timeless truths. In short. I love it. I love him, and I love God for His constant goodness. Every now and then we feel that we make a difference."

  "That all doesn't sound too unusual. My parents were Catholic. Gradually slipped right out of the routine. My boyfriend thinks the churches are all about getting your money."

  "Perhaps he'd be interested in a place like ours. We are presently finding ways to turn things back over to the people. That they might have the joy of discovery, of testifying, of helping in simple ways. Sometimes, though, it feels as if we are going one step at a time through the darkness."

  "Really? A preacher and his wife who don't have all the answers. I kinda like that."

  DON’T BRING A THING

  The week had flown by for Craig Randall. People at Keith's church had greeted him warmly on the morning Ted Brandon spoke. He had given simple exhortation to press on offering kind words, everyday help, a ready smile and willingness to listen. All in the name of Christ. The message was entitled "Apply the Salt". Now it was Craig's turn and he felt strangely confident before his newfound friends:

  "So it's settled," the hostess said. "We'll see you guys at 6:30 on Saturday. Everything will be ready. Don't bring a thing. Just your appetites. We look forward to a really good evening together."

  Perhaps you have had such a conversation, and then on the way over stopped for flowers, some drinks or an interesting treat to take along. Just common etiquette isn't it? Or is it that you don't want to be beholding to another?

  I have been studying one of Jesus' more forceful parables - the wedding feast in Matthew 22. A prince is to be married, and extensive invitations have gone out. Surprisingly, the majority of the invitees offered feeble excuses to stay away. This provoked the host, the King, to send messengers into remote places, to encourage as many as would come, good and bad, to attend. He was fixing to have a good celebration and to be unrestrained in his generosity.

  Obviously those listening to Jesus' story got the impression that the disinterested first group were the organized Jews of that day. The second group simply said "yes" and came. Such is grace. "Come. All is provided. My Son deserves an uninhibited, eager response."

  But there was also disturbing news. One of the guests had refused to don the wedding garment as was customarily offered by the host. Certainly his own apparel was good enough, and it had served him well on other occasions. But the prince's wedding required the prescribed garments and the man's stubborn refusal was immediately noticed by the King. "Remove such an insolent and unappreciative one to a place of

  darkness and weeping!"

  The old Scottish preachers were quick to chastise
wilful members of their flock: "You are too stubborn to trust in the righteousness of another. To don His robe as your own. You must do your little bit, as pathetic and pointless as it is. You seek to add to the Cross. Stop your foolishness while there is still time. The way of grace is the only way."

  "I have thought a lot about this parable. We as Christians are constantly reminded that fruit-bearing must come out of our relationship with Christ. Sadly many still see this as a requirement of duty. A weight comes with the consideration of doing good. But the real path of service is forged in love which cannot be suppressed as it pours out almost spontaneously and thankfully. The love response is the ticket to effective Christian living, and not the sense of duty or conformity. So, culture a familiarity with the episodes of Jesus' patience, mercy and strength. Read those Gospels. Get alone enough with Him in prayer. Say your piece briefly, and then wait in respectful silence for His input. It will come. You are developing friendship with the King of Kings. Hearts beat in unison. Watch what happens next..."

  GETTING DOWN TO THE LIST

  Keith had just gotten home from taking the kids out for hamburgs. It was agreed that they would stay three more days with Gramma. She was loving it and in no hurry to see them leave.

  Tomorrow morning would be the final trip to the Hamilton hospital. Beth was coming home. For the last hour he had been cleaning up some of his "bachelor's mess". Now it was time for rest and reflection in the quiet house. Outside, the threatenings of an approaching thunderstorm. He was reminded of the rainy morning of Beth's accident.

  He took out from his desk the new "Working File" compiled from parishioners' suggestions for change at the assembly. It contained a wide range of ideas, not all of which would need big time for launching. He reminded himself not to be in a hurry to mess with the good stuff already in operation.

  A theme had been formulating over the past few days: "He must get the glory. Not us." He had sensed sadly that a number of projects in the past had had a regrettable "yeah for our team" spirit about them. It would no longer be what we were accomplishing "here at Crosspoints Community Church"; rather what was Jesus accomplishing?

  He almost knew the list now by heart:

  1. Consider once a month a single joint service unhurried by the pace or requirements of two Sunday morning services.

  2. Consider once a month allowing most of the children to remain with their parents and to participate in all the worship.

  3. Launch the discussion group for college students.

  4. Designate once a month for a time of testimony from the floor with a "wandering mike". What has God done? How has a piece of scripture become a personal milestone?

  5. Gather a group of a dozen or so volunteers to help on a rotating basis at the local

  Food Bank.

  6. Gather a group of six or so volunteers to help the Chaplain at the Hospital with visitation. (Beth had heard a lot about this possibility at Hamilton.)

  7. Resist the temptation for summer slow-down in almost all program areas. "Time at the cottage or in travel" should no longer be an excuse for catching the Army of God asleep or otherwise occupied.

  8. Re-assign a portion of the Missions budget to general operations at the Downtown House of Friendship for men in transition.

  9. Arrange personal visits with those who have submitted Visitors' Cards or other notification. Forget the complimentary gifts. They need to hear from people of faith. Not a hard-sell for membership, but simply an outreach in the spirit of Christ.

  10. Sponsor a Christian writing event with different age categories in the winter. Give some of the participants program recognition and publish (modestly) a few of the outstanding pieces.

  11. Celebrate Holy Communion more frequently.

  12. Involve more parishioners in the reading of scripture from the front. This might even chop into sermon time.

  13. Allow more of the members of good standing to deliver messages instead of the Pastor.

  14. Conduct workshops on the gifts and operation of the Holy Spirit.

  15. Sponsor "pray for one another" evenings at the Church; also "intercede for the Community" evenings or afternoons.

  16. Endorse a periodic "Church of the Ages" gathering where members of the Seniors' Bible Study would meet with some of our Young Adults to exchange insights, questions and wonder. This could be a particular delight for the Seniors.

  17. Discontinue the visiting Missions work crews and offer instead cash or full-time ambassadors or exchange students to our brothers and sisters abroad.

  18. Re-introduce some of our old favoured Hymn Book selections back into the worship mix.

  Keith had been surprised and encouraged by the quality of the suggestions. Many of them resonated with him and with Beth and other friends invited thus far into the process.

  Outside the grumblings of thunder had been replaced by a refreshing wind.

  MIXING WITH THOSE YOUNG PEOPLE

  It was a Tuesday morning and Keith was attempting to return to the customary at the church. Beth was thrilled to be home and to catch the news from Becky and Michael about their time with her Mom. Blanche would be coming over that evening with take-out Chinese. She had to see for herself that Beth was on the mend.

  Back to the morning jog and over to the office in sweats for messages and final strategy for the day. He was looking forward to being "back in the saddle". All reports were very positive about Craig Randall's interim help. From a phone conversation of Monday evening it was clear that Craig was charged up.

  No one else in the office. Stack of pink messages. Top one was to call Jerry Caswell, long time buddy of George Cromarty. Three rings and Jerry had it, "Haylo".

  "Jerry, it's Keith returning your call. What's new?"

  "Oh. that was pretty quick. Been meaning to congratulate you on your initiative of late. Talked it all over with George...You know, before the stroke. Tell me are you planning semi-retirement?"

  "Aw come on Jerry, you know me better than that."

  "Of course I do. But here's what I'm calling about. Betty and I have heard that the ideas coming down the pipe include some sort of joint gathering involving seniors and young folks. That one really catches our fancy, and I will tell you why.

  About eight years ago we had a wonderful trip to Britain. Three weeks. Rented car. All up and down the island. Never forget it. We made it to Windsor with two days to spare before flying out of Heathrow. Spent an evening in a traditional pub-dining room. Spirits were up. Place was full. Over in one secluded little corner table, gas lamp above, we saw an unusual duo.

  A college student was enjoying a pint with a man in his upper seventies. Their conversation was free and fascinating. Obviously topics were coming up which found mutual interest, as the insights of the generations were being shared. The youth clearly had opportunities to hook up with some of his buddies, but did not budge.

  I remember commenting to Betty that the sight was a rare one as far as our culture was concerned. How sad. How much wisdom to be passed on, mutual understanding and respect to be gained. Energy and enthusiasm to be absorbed from the young ones. Rather than drawing up walls of distrust or frustration. Being more alone and seemingly out of it.

  Keith, if it's alright with you, please count the two of us in for contribution, ideas and time in this thing you're calling "Church of the Ages". We like the sound of it very much.

  Was up to see George. Day before yesterday. Quite a kicker isn't it? No speech. One side all twisted up. But still, he managed a few smiles and kept things going, albeit slowly, with pen and paper. Love to find a way to get him face to face with some of these young people. So many of us could benefit. Thanks for calling back.

  ...And by the way, I know that retirement is far from your mind these days. Blessings to Beth."

  CATARACT FLOWING EXTEMPORE

  It turned out that Craig Randall was expected to take the first Sunday service following his visit with Crosspoint Community Chu
rch. Todd and Suzie Bushnell had long planned a holiday trip to Cape Cod and Craig would just have to flow into the next two weeks. He remained charged up from his fill-in assignment for Keith and Beth. But there was something causing an edge now as he took the pulpit for Calvary Temple. He put his notes down on the lectern and lowered his head:

  "Tabbara mas cummi thabatha sin doromannna sic bianti mas coomah." Quietly and to himself that prayer in the Spirit had been offered. Craig in all honesty did not know how to pray here; neither did he know in himself what to say next.

  "Good morning friends. It is good to be here with you again and to open up together some of God's truth. Turn with me please to John's Gospel chapter six."

  Craig noted that many did not have Bibles with them, but he had resolved that there would be no use of the overhead screen today. He had the King James Version in front of him and began with verse 44. "No man can come to me except the Father which hath sent me draw him; and I will raise him up at the last day." He went on with the rest of the chapter (a very long portion it seemed for this group). He paused and looked for about ten seconds at the congregation before reading the following:

  63It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life.