Answer:
We aren’t sure. The Sunday school teacher mentioned it
to the elder for Adult Education who submitted a request for
light bulbs to the elder board which then passed the request on
to the elder for building and grounds. But he argued that it was
really a matter for the volunteer janitorial team, none of whom
could be reached. So a motion to table action on light bulbs was
made, seconded and passed. In the mean time, an enterprising
staffer found several spare light bulbs in the janitor’s closet
and proceeded to replace the bad bulbs himself. The elders are
now debating disciplinary proceedings against the staffer for
failure to submit to proper authority. The disciplinary action,
along with the still pending request for light bulbs, will be
taken up at the next regularly scheduled board meeting.
And that strange whirring noise you may be
hearing is an INVENTION, one which is helping Rube Goldberg to
spin in his grave (actually, it’s rotating the coffin
counter-clockwise on its longitudinal axis while at the same
time spinning it end-over-end. Rube would be pleased).
So, how simple are you keeping your house
church? Or is your house church experience beginning to resemble
the Rube Goldberg INVENTION that you left behind? I recently had
a brief exchange with our house church coach friend John White
in Denver about the nature of house church. John’s thoughts are
always "spot on," so I’d like to pass this gem on to you:
"I agree with you about the danger of the
house church movement becoming a mere "fiddling with the
structures". (John Eldredge warned of this a couple of years ago
at the National HC Conference. He said that if the enemy can't
stop something God is doing, he will provide a "brilliant
substitute". He suggested that the counterfeit would be
characterized by the "gospel of knowledge and duty". That is, an
emphasis on learning more and more and motivation from
obligation - "shoulds" and "oughts".) We are talking about this
these days under the heading of "Honey, I shrunk the church!".
That is, people are beginning to meet in homes (and other
places) but they are still doing what they have always been
taught to do - implement a program. A new wineskin but little
new wine."
So, tell me, honey, have you shrunk the
church and moved it to your house? Are you on your way to
becoming a miniaturized version of a Rube Goldberg INVENTION
that fills your living room, sounds religious, but produces no
new wine? Are you in the process of building a "Christian
Airplane" in your garage and calling it house church? (Hey, I
needed a segue for the next section!)
*[K.I.(H.C.)S.S. or "Keep It (House Church)
Simple Stupid!]
The Christian Airplane, By John Duckworth
(Editor’s Note: When I first read "The
Christian Airplane" I nearly laughed until I cried. The funniest
of all humor is that humor which reflects reality and forces us
to laugh at ourselves - something Christians don’t do very well.
If you want to actually see the Christian airplane, click on
this link:
www.parousianetwork.org/The_Christian_Airplane.htm)
- Early on Saturday morning the phone rang.
My friend Wilfred was on the line. Excitedly he announced,
"My project’s finished."
- "What project?"
I asked.
- There was a pause, and his voice dropped
to an intense whisper. "I’ve built a Christian airplane,"
he said.
- "A what?"
- "You’ve got to come see it. You know that
little airfield north of town?"
- "Yes,"
I said.
- "Meet me there at noon. Boy, are you
gonna be impressed!"
- With that, he hung up. I put the receiver
down and scratched my chin. A Christian airplane, I thought.
I’d never heard of such a thing. But Wilfred sounded like he
knew what he was talking about, so at a quarter to twelve I
hopped into my car and headed for the airstrip. When I go
there Wilfred grabbed me by the elbow and hurried me toward
a nearby hanger. "It’s around the
corner," he said in that confident
voice of his. "I built it in my
garage, then towed it out here behind my station wagon."
- "Really?" I
asked. "Is that legal, to tow an airplane down the
highway?"
- He shrugged. "Who knows? But they
wouldn’t arrest me for a little thing like that. After all,
it’s a Christian airplane It’s for a good cause."
- I stopped. "Excuse me, Wilfred," I
said. "What is a Christian airplane
anyway? What’s it for?"
- "Why, for Christian stuff,"
Wilfred said impatiently. "Flying missionaries around,
maybe even putting on Gospel stunt shows. C’mon, you’ve
gotta see it."
- He grabbed my elbow again and led me
around the corner of the hanger. "There it is," he
said proudly. "Pretty fantastic, don’t you think?" I
gazed in wonderment. "Well?" he asked impatiently.
- "I . . . I don’t know much about
planes, Wilfred. But aren’t they supposed to have wings?"
- "Wings?",
Wilfred asked, puzzled. "They would
have been awfully expensive. I didn’t exactly have a big
budget, you know."
- "Oh," I
said. I studied the fusilage. "What’s it made of?" I
asked.
- "Empty cereal boxes,"
he answered, smiling. "My nephew
works in a supermarket, and he gave me all their damaged
ones. Took me six months to collect enough of them."
- "Very thrifty,"
I murmured. Bending over, I studied the
cockpit.
- "How do you like those controls?
Great, huh?"
- I peered at the panel, which had a
Cheerios box background, and saw an impressive array of
dials and switches. There were a couple of alarm clocks, an
old Mickey Mouse watch, a ruler, a Boy Scout compass, a
radio dial, and a broken pocket calculator. Smack in the
middle was a row of wall switches. "What do the switches
do?" I asked.
- "Nothing,"
he said.
- "Oh," I
said, and walked around the front of the plane. "This
must be the propeller," I said.
- "Right on,"
he answered. "Naturally, those real
propellers cost a small fortune. So I used this agitating
thing from my sister’s old washing machine. Looks a lot like
a prop, doesn’t it?"
- "Sure does,"
I said. "An amazing resemblance."
- "Want to see the engine?"
Wilfred asked. He opened a cardboard door on the side of the
fuselage. "Look at that baby," he said proudly.
"It ran my lawn-mower perfectly for 15 years. Now it’s going
to power this plane."
- I cocked my head to one side, doubtful.
"A lawn-mower engine?" I said. "Are you sure
that’s enough for an airplane?"
- He waved my question aside and chuckled.
"C’mon, man," he said. "This is
a Christian airplane. The Lord knows we can’t afford one of
those fancy aircraft engines. Just as long as we’re trusting
Him, what does it matter?"
- "I . . . I guess you’re right,"
I said sheepishly.
- "Hey, it’s all right,"
he said soothingly. "Even my faith used to flag once in a
while. Now take a look at this." He pointed underneath
the plane, where the landing gear would have been on a
non-Christian aircraft.
- "Very nice,"
I said. "Two pairs of roller
skates, huh?"
- "That extra margin of safety,"
Wilfred said knowingly.
- "Good idea,"
I said.
- "And now for the crowning touch,"
he declared, leading me to the rear of the plane.
"Here’s the most important part of the whole
aircraft."
- "The tail?"
I asked.
- "Nope," he
said.
- "The fuel tank?"
- "No," he
said with a laugh. "Take a look."
- I did, and saw painted on the tail a
large fish symbol. "Oh," I said.
"A Christian sign."
- "Right," he
said gleefully. "And John3:16 is on the other side."
- We stood there admiring the Christian
airplane for a few moments before Wilfred spoke again,
excited. "Well, shall we go up?"
- "Huh?" I
said.
- "I wanted to share the honor of the
first flight with you, since you’re such a good friend."
- I swallowed.
"You mean fly in it? I didn’t know you knew how to fly,
Wilfred."
- "Ah, there can’t be much to it. I’ve
seen planes take off before. I even rode in one once."
- He climbed confidently into the cockpit.
"Uh . . . I’m not sure that’s enough," I ventured
nervously. "Aren’t you supposed to take flying lessons,
get a pilot’s license?"
- He laughed. "Oh, thou of little
faith," he said. "What do we
need that stuff for? We’re Christians. Nobody expects us to
be professionals, after all."
- "Uh - right. But there’s only one
chair. I guess you’ll have to go up alone."
- "You’re right. I knew I’d forgotten
something. Well, maybe next time."
He reached between his feet, yanked the cord
of the lawn-mower engine, and the motor putt-putted to life.
- "Have you got a parachute?"
I asked.
- "Of course not,"
he said. "How could a Christian plane fail? Give me a
push, will you?"
- Gently, so as not to damage the
cardboard, I pushed the plane a few feet. Soon, it began to
move under its own power, rolling along with the speed and
sound of a go_cart.
- "Up we go!"
Wilfred cried. But the Christian airplane just buzzed along
slowly on the ground until it crashed into the side of the
control tower. Maybe crumpled would be a better word, as the
cereal boxes just sort of collapsed without much of a noise.
I ran over to Wilfred.
- "Are you okay?"
- "Of course,"
he said, looking dazed.
- "Too bad it was a flop,"
I said shaking my head.
- Wilfred looked sternly at me. "What
are you talking about?" he demanded.
"This was a Christian airplane. Just because it seems to us
to have been unsuccessful doesn’t mean a thing."
- "Oh," I
said.
- "We have planted a seed here today.
Why, someone probably saw the fish sigh on the tail and
started thinking."
- "You’re right, Wilfred,"
I said, feeling ashamed of myself.
"Here, let me help you clean up this mess."
- "Mess?" he
said indignantly. "We’re going to leave this right here,
as a witness."
- After making sure the tail was sticking
up out of the rubble, he walked back to the car with me.
- "Don’t worry,"
he said, putting an arm around my shoulder. "Someday this
will all come together and we’ll see how it fits perfectly
into God’s plan. Till then, have faith."
- My friend Wilfred does have faith. There
can be no denying it. After all, he’s been working on
projects like the Christian airplane for years now. But
that’s Wilfred. (-END-)
What about you? What are you building? An
ekklesia that will be a channel for the River of
God’s Spirit to receive the coming monsoon of revival and
transform your neighborhood for the Kingdom of God, or another
"Christian airplane" in your garage, hoping against hope that
the inevitable wreckage will somehow be "a testimony" to your
neighbors? Please don’t invite me over to see it. I used to be a
pilot, and it would just be too painful for me to come and watch
you crash & burn for Jesus.
24/7 Prayer And The Welsh Revival
"The swift and powerful movement of the
Spirit recorded in the Acts was not only initiated by prayer,
but fed and sustained by prayer. In a day when God has begun to
pour out His Spirit upon His people, even as He promised, we
should expect to see among them a new ‘spirit of grace and
supplication’. However powerful the initial coming upon us of
the Spirit may be, if this does not find expression in a life of
prayer the blessing will soon become a fading glory. A
movement of God will last as long as the Spirit of prayer that
inspired it." (Arthur Wallis -
"Pray In The Spirit")
Allow me to begin with a true story from the
Welsh Revival of 1904 (from my book, When The Fire Fell,
available as a pdf file on our website).
Merthyn Lewis’ father was a coal miner in the
Rhondda Valley region of Wales. He worked the 6 a.m. to 3 p.m.
shift. One day after arriving home in the afternoon he took a
bath to wash off the coal dust, put on his Sunday clothes and
said, "Come mother, we’re going to the church." Off they
went, children in tow. When they arrived at the church around 4
p.m. the meeting was well underway and the building was full.
Around 7 p.m. Evan Roberts paid an unannounced visit. The
building was so crowded that he couldn’t get in. Finally the men
hoisted him up on their shoulders and passed him along until he
reached the pulpit. When Roberts reached the pulpit he said one
word in Welsh, three words in English, "Let us pray."
That was the last thing anyone heard him say, because all two
thousand people in the church began praying aloud. Each was
praying his (or her) own prayer, but the result was harmony, not
confusion. Around 10 p.m. Evan Roberts put on his hat and coat
and left the meeting (the family with whom he stayed said he sat
up and prayed all night). At 2 a.m. Mr. Lewis turned to his wife
and said, "Come, mother, we must go home." They arrived
home around 3 a.m. Mr. Lewis slept in his clothes in the rocking
chair. At 6 a.m. he changed into his work clothes. At 3 p.m. he
arrived home, bathed, dressed and said, "Come, mother, we’re
going to the meeting." They returned to the church around 4
p.m. to the same meeting still going strong!
Now that’s 24/7 prayer - revival style - the
product of a spiritual monsoon that went on for 6-to-18 months!
Some of you will remember a comment I quoted a couple of letters
ago from Dr. J. Edwin Orr in which he observed that ordinary
Christianity is like getting water (life of the Spirit) by going
to the well and, with great effort, hauling up a small bucket
full. When revival comes, its like a monsoon where there is more
water than anyone knows what to do with. This applies to prayer
as well. Prayer is the normal and ordinary work of the Church -
the life breath of the Christian soul. Prayer is as much a part
of the Christian life as breathing is to a person. Go long
without it and your life will be in doubt.
My point here is to compare the 24/7 prayer
meetings of a season of revival, such as the Welsh Revival cited
above, with current movements to establish 24/7 houses of
prayer. I recently received an e-mail from a gentleman who was
here in Spokane back in 1989, working with Gary Bergel of
Intercessors for America and co-leading a prayer conference
here. At that time they visited a 24/7prayer house here in
Spokane led by a local intercessor. The project folded after a
while due to lack of participation and the pressures of overhead
and maintenance. It isn’t enough to establish a 24/7 house of
prayer. It must be staffed & maintained. I compare it to the
problem of owning a Ferrari. You may be able to afford the car,
especially if it was a gift. But do you have the lifestyle to
maintain it? Can you really afford $1,000 for a tune up or
$2,000 for a new set of tires? Sometimes "free" gifts aren't
really free!
So, where am I going with all of this? First,
please know that I am all for prayer - and fasting - and lots of
it (Luke 18:1). Secondly, I’m not really sure we need more
"religious boxes," even ones dedicated to prayer, that will turn
into more "Christian airplanes" or Rube Goldberg INVENTIONS and
which will be expensive and complicated to maintain. Thirdly,
why is it so difficult to establish ONE house of prayer when
house churches should already and always be houses of prayer!
HELLO!? If God should grant to fulfill for us the vision of
10,000 house churches in our area (See our "House Church
Manifesto" posted on our website) why shouldn’t each one of
those house churches be houses of prayer where committed
Spirit-filled Christians are praying regularly for their
neighborhoods? Why build another religious box (even a
"spiritual" one dedicated to prayer) when God’s call upon His
ekklesia is to BE a house of prayer wherever
they meet? I would rather see the monsoon of God fill the River
of God to overflowing and to see it flow through 10,000 channels
called house churches where believers pray continually for their
families, their friends, their neighbors and their communities.
So, please, no more religious boxes, Rube Goldberg INVENTIONS or
Christian airplanes. Instead, let’s implore God to send His
monsoon, to pour out the River of His Spirit, and to make our
house churches (and the thousands that will soon be raised up!)
channels through which the River of His Spirit can flow with the
result that thousands of houses of prayer throughout our
community will be filled with Christians praying for our
neighborhoods and our communities: "Thy Kingdom come, Thy
will be done, here in our community as it is in heaven"! AMEN!