Pastor Hurst

WHY DID PAUL CROSS THE SEA?

Sitting on the deck watching the waves and wake created by our ship’s plying through the water, looking out beyond to an expanse of sea in every direction, I thought of the Apostle Paul. Two years ago, our church family at Union Pentecostal Church in celebration of our thirty years as pastors had gifted us with a trip for us and our children and their spouses. We nine were finally on a Mediterranean cruise courtesy of their largess. Although our route was confined to the western Mediterranean Paul traveled only in route to his fatal trial in Rome, I thought of his other missionary journeys that had him crisscrossing the eastern part of the same sea. I mused on his shipwrecks. His almost drowning. I am certain the Apostle was not transported on a huge, comfortable vessel, gliding over the surface, barely rocked by waves as we were. Those small sailing vessels were dangerous and susceptible to the slightest wave, wind, and weather. Corks in a tempest. My thoughts about Apostle Paul coalesced into one: Why would he do it? Why would he hazard his life like he did in sailing the Mediterranean? Days without seeing land? Why jeopardize everything on trips he did not have to make? He sure didn’t do it for wealth of fame. Why did he? Why did Paul cross the Sea? Why? The apparent answer is “to preach the Gospel, that’s why?” Yes, but we can’t leave it there. Why preach the Gospel? What is so important about the Gospel that one would put himself in such danger, discomfort, and possible destruction? “Well, because the Gospel is just that. It is good news! Paul had good news to share.” Yes, but why is it good news? That’s when the answer hit me: Why did Paul hazard his life in crossing the Mediterranean? Because without Christ people go to hell. To say that sounds so foreign and arcane to most today—"Without Christ people go to hell.” But no other answer makes sense. People beyond the sea were lost without the knowledge of Jesus Christ. And without the knowledge of Jesus Christ, they were eternally damned to eternal destruction. If there is no hell, why bother people in different lands, with different cultures, with different religions? Just leave them be--as the “woke” of today would urge. For sure, don’t risk life and limb to preach another, non-indigenous religion to them, one they really don’t need. They will be fine. And, suppose there is a hell. No big deal. ”All roads lead to Rome.” There are many ways to avoid hell and go to heaven. If Christ is not the only way to escape hell and any other way will do, again, why jeopardize one’s very life simply to announce that there is yet one more way among many to avoid going there? And something else: If the Gospel is only what some today say it is—a means of reaching one’s full potential, a way of acquiring self-esteem, a way of having all of one’s dreams come true, a way to wealth and health, is that really something for which to imperil one’s own life? Does it make sense to lose your life now to help some foreigner live his best life now? Your worst for his best? No! If Paul were only a life coach or a motivational speaker, his methods and speeches, however helpful, would not be something for which to hazard his life. Paul risked his life traversing the Mediterranean Sea because people without Christ go to hell. He cared. He knew that the Gospel had the power to save them, to change their lives, and to give them eternal life. He knew that Gospel was, not just the way to heaven, but the way to escape hell. That’s why Paul crossed the Sea.* He hazarded his life because of hell. ---Pastor Clifford Hurst *”Knowing therefore the terror of the Lord, we persuade men; ….” (2Co 5:11)

I PREACHED IT WRONG: GOD ISN’T LIKE A FATHER

It is youth camp season. Almost forty years ago, the week of July fourth, I was preaching a youth camp in an open-aired tabernacle. In the hot, muggy, bug-ladened atmosphere surrounded by the darkening night, I was pleading with wayward young people using the story of the Prodigal Son. I described the promiscuous son’s having come to his senses as he slept with the pigs. And then his returning home. I emphasized his arrival: “The father did not wait until his son knocked on the door. He saw him coming and ran to meet him. The father did not halt his approach at his son’s distinct swine smell. Nor did he hesitate at the sight of his filthy robe and body. No! The father took his son in a welcoming bear-hug embrace. At his son’s protestations that he was unworthy to be a son or treated as a son, as he begged to be allowed to be just one of his servants, the father declared, ‘No, you are my son! Come into the house. You are more than welcome. And to show it, I’m going to throw a party to celebrate your homecoming’.” “Servants, bring a robe and ring. (and, hopefully, ‘Fill, the bath with water and get several bars of soap.’).” At that point, I entered my message’s plea for those away from Christ. I was appealing to them to come to the altar and surrender their lives to Christ. I declared, “God is like a father. God is like this father. If you come to Him, He will meet you with open arms. He will hug you with those arms. He will take you into His house.” As young people began to flood the altar, I noticed one young lady with her face contorted in misery and defiance. Sitting arms crossed. Distressed but obdurate. Refusing to come with the others to the altar. I watched as some sister went to talk with her and invited her to come to pray. She refused with a vehement verbal barrage and animated gestures. Of course, way up at the pulpit, I had no idea what she was saying. Afterward, what this teenage girl had said in her refusal to respond was relayed to me: It went something like this: “I ran away from home with my boyfriend. I did bad things. I realized what a mess I’d made of my life. Just yesterday, I returned home and asked my dad if I could come back. He yelled at me and told me what a bad person and daughter I was. What a mess of things I had made. What a horrible sin I had committed. Then, he pointed to the door and told me to leave and never come back. He screamed, ‘Get out.’” She then retorted, “That preacher said that God is like a father.” She vexingly and bitterly exclaimed, “If God is like my father, I want nothing to do with Him. I won’t go pray. He would be just like my father anyway. He would not take me back.” Deep in the night last night (Friday), with no waking remembrance of this for years, it hit me. I was wrong in what I preached. I had misspoken when I applied the story of the prodigal son. When I said, “God is like a father. It may be semantics, but what I said is all wrong. God isn’t like a father. There are some bad fathers. God is not like some fathers. Not like many fathers. Not at all. This girl’s father was a pastor. But God isn’t like that father.” Make no mistake. There are some good fathers. Some really good ones. I had one such father. But it isn’t that God is like them. The truth is God is not like a father, but a good father is like God. When the prodigal sons’ father met, embraced, and welcomed his stinking wayward son home, that father was being like God. The heavenly Father. The Ultimate Father. God was not like that father. That father was like God. Oh, to be a father like God. --Pastor Clifford Hurst

A CELEBRATION THAT LASTS MORE THAN A MONTH

Our nation is in the midst of a celebration. The celebration of the Acronym-that-Appropriates-more-and-more-of-the-Alphabet. I write cryptically not to be ambiguous but to preclude possible censoring and censuring. After all NT Christians called Rome “Babylon.” I will just call this Acronym-that-Appropriates-more-and-more-of-the-Alphabet Month. June has been designated as the month for this celebration of the Acronym-that-Appropriates-more-and-more-of-the-Alphabet Being treated like any other citizen is not the goal. Tolerance is not the goal. Nor, is the promotion of a lifestyle, though it’s that too. Forcing and foisting society to embrace deviant behavior, as motivating and prevalent as that desired end is, is not the goal. Celebration is. When used for official or sanctioned calendar events, to celebrate is to observe a holiday or take part in a festival. But, as observed in this month’s festive events, like parades, for instance, it is evident that the Acronym-that-Appropriates-more-and-more-of-the-Alphabet takes “celebrate” in the literal sense of exalting, glorifying, lauding, and praise. They are celebrating. They are reveling and rejoicing. They are proud. Some of the most rabid cheerleaders in the celebration are scripture-mutilating, scripture-jettisoning liberal Christian leaders who, ostensibly under the guise of love, give speeches and preside over meetings that celebrate what God’s Word clearly notes as evil. Evil, not because it gets under God’s skin. And, not even just because it defies God’s laws. But evil because it destroys people, marriages, families, societies—just about everything. These are those who the proverb writer described as those “Who rejoice to do evil, and delight in the frowardness of the wicked;” (Pro. 2:14). Rejoice. Celebrate. In celebrating evil, they celebrated the very thing destroying them along with everything good, wholesome, and healthful. Among other self-destroying behavior, they are celebrating the irreparable mutilation of children. They will not concede nor see it, but their celebrating what they celebrate is like cancer patients lauding and celebrating cancer. Or snake-bit victims, venom. Or those who’ve lost a loved one to recreational drugs celebrating drugs. It is not enough for these to celebrate evil. Their rejoicing over such evil comes with decrying, demeaning, disparaging, and detesting all that is pure, righteous, and holy. Those who love the Truth, follow the Word, and trust God’s design and decrees, cannot, should not, must not, and will not join that celebration. But we have plenty to celebrate. To rejoice over. A personal, holy, mercy-showing Creator. A loving, caring, Savior. Unchanging, unerring, absolute Truth. Meaning. Purpose. Eternal life. Light in the Darkness. Hope. Healing. Help. Though there is no designated month on the calendar to celebrate these, we can do so today. And in heaven the celebration of these things lasts more than a month. It lasts for an eternity. --Pastor Clifford Hurst

THE BARKING OF THE DOGS OR THE SINGING OF THE BIRDS?

It was exceedingly annoying as it always is. The incessant barking of dogs. I was on the phone with a friend whose job entails knocking on doors in search of residents. He had just knocked on a door and immediately there was this discordant cacophony of dogs’ barking. It was brutal to the ears even heard over the phone. Then in the hiatus of waiting for his return to our conversation, I noticed something. Despite the barking, and more clearly in the brief respites between barks, I heard a chorus of birds singing on the bright spring day. Not on my end. On his. I heard the mellifluously melodious singing of birds eight hundred miles away. It cheered me long distance. I commented to my friend about it. “Listen to those birds. They are singing so happily. It’s so uplifting.” He responded, “What birds? I don’t hear any birds. You mean where you are at?” “No!” I answered. I’m talking about the ones where you are.” He paused for a moment before responding, “Oh, now I hear them. I didn’t hear them before. All I could hear was those barking dogs.” The dogs were still barking. I attempted to wax philosophical. “You didn’t hear the birds?” I asked incredulously with a twinge of condemnation directed at him. “Yet, I did eight hundred miles away. The problem is,” I pontificated, “You were so focused on the barking of the dogs you didn’t hear the singing of the birds.” As I smugly awaited his impressed response to my clever retort, I was suddenly hit by conviction from the boomerang of my own invented aphorism. That little quiet inside voice that can be as annoying as a dog’s barking inquired, “Don’t you do that yourself. All the time? Always through life? Don’t you constantly listen to the barking dogs instead of the singing birds?” Conviction causes misery and misery loves company, so let me ask you. Do you hear the barking of the dogs or the singing of the birds? Such is life. Dogs are barking. Birds are singing. Usually, we focus on the barking. Oh, there’s so much of that. Grating growling, bothersome barking, and yucky yipping. All the time. News. Gossip. Whining. Protesting. Carping. Complaining. Verbalize vitriol. All the time. Everywhere. In all kinds of situations. Barking. Barking. Barking. But there’s not just barking. There is also the soft breeze stirring leaves. A babbling brook. A church bell. A baby’s coo. Music inspired by the Holy Spirit. The Good News of the Word. A congregation worshiping. The encouragement of friends. The affirmation of loved ones. The birds are singing. There’s singing. Singing. Singing. Both the barking of the dogs and the singing of the birds are sounding around us constantly. In the end, we choose which we will focus on, which we will hear. I think I will listen more to the birds’ singing. After all, even the squawking of a starling sounds better than the nerve-yanking yapping of a chihuahua. (No offense to chihuahua lovers.) Did you hear that? What? You tell me. Was it barking dogs or singing birds? --Pastor Clifford Hurst

Justice, My Wife, and the Gospel

As a precursor to this Tuesday’s announcement about his presidential run for 2024, President Biden signed and announced an executive order mandating that all federal agencies prioritize ENVIRONMENTAL JUSTICE. When I heard “Environment Justice,” I thought of the Gospel. And my wife. See, truth is, when a modifier is added to justice, then justice is no longer justice. A modifier can make all the difference. It changes everything. For example, if I say, “wife,” that produces one perception. If I say, “my wife,” that’s another. But, if I say, “my FAVORITE wife,” that draws a drastically different picture. It’s not the possessive modifier, “my,” that makes the altering difference. Nor if I added a descriptive modifier, “beloved.” It’s when I add a modifier that distinguishes, “favorite.” If she is my “favorite” wife, there are others. Back to justice. Justice, overly simplified, is what is right, impartial, and fair. But add a qualifying modifier--Social Justice. Racial Justice. Economic Justice. Environmental Justice--and the modifier takes away what justice is. How so? Because to fulfill the qualifier in the vein it is meant results in favoring one group, philosophy, system, culture, etc., above another. The very opposite of what the modifier’s proponents ostensively profess is their intent and goal. The modifier tilts “justice,” rightness, impartiality, and fairness, in the direction of one and away from the other. The moment it tilts, justice has ceased to be justice. Justice is justice. It needs no qualifier. And the qualifier, once added, changes it. Destroys it. Makes it something else. So with the Gospel. Simply stated, the Gospel, the Good News, is that salvation is by grace alone, through faith alone in the finished work of Christ alone. Now let’s add modifiers. Social Gospel. Liberation Gospel. Progressive Gospel. Universalism Gospel. Prosperity Gospel. Holiness Gospel. The moment the modifier is added to Gospel, the resulting Gospel has become something else. It is not the Gospel of the New Testament. It is not the Gospel of Jesus. Nor Paul. And since it’s not, it can’t save or give eternal life or true hope and peace. Justice with any such modifier is not Justice. The Gospel with any such modifier is not the Gospel. And if my wife is “my favorite wife,” I have or have had more than one. I haven’t. I don’t. I have but one wife. And there is but one Gospel that saves. The Gospel. Minus all qualifiers and modifiers, --Pastor Clifford Hurst

PERFECT!!!

Not just “Perfect.” But, “Perfect!!!”--perfect with three !’s because it is always said with verbal exclamation points of feigned optimism, enthusiasm, excitement, or joy--none of which, we will find, are usually meant. Perfect!!! is everywhere. I can’t be the only one that’s noticed. You have too? Perfect!!! A trip last week out of state only underlined that what I’ve been noticing is ubiquitous. Everywhere and in a plethora of circumstances folks are responding with “Perfect!!!” In their interactions waitresses and patrons both say, “Perfect!!!”. So do flight attendants and passengers, “Perfect!!!”. As do patients and doctors, “Perfect!!!”. And friend to friend, “Perfect!!!”. Why do they say Perfect!!!? And, how can so many things be perfect!!!? It stretches incredulity to believe that we live in such a perfect world of perfect people doing perfect things that everything is discovered and declared “Perfect!!!” Ever the skeptic--this I may get imperfectly--I really think Perfect!!! is a ploy! I’ll give a few examples of what I mean, and, if you would, let me know if I am on to something. You’d do that? Perfect!!! “Perfect!!!” is a replacement for “Thank you,” without saying, “Thank you.” It’s used this way, although not always when you don’t have much cause to be thankful. Or you don’t especially feel thankful. Or, you just want to say, “Thank you” in a way that will end the conversation (another use of Perfect!!!). Example: Someone is portending to have done you a great favor. He is going on and on about how and why. You don’t really see it. You just want the monologue to stop. So, you say, “Perfect!!!” That makes him feel self-satisfied and stuns him to cease. Perfect!!! “Perfect!!!” is a way of making folks not feel bad or embarrassed when you are really not pleased with what they have done when they think they have really done something for you. Example: Your young children fix you breakfast. The outcome is less than desirable, the kitchen is a mess, and a few dishes are broken in the process. “Mom, we fixed you breakfast,” they announce proudly. Not to hurt them—and you can’t honestly say, “It looks great,” or even “Thank you,”--you say, “Perfect!!!” You have spared their feelings without revealing your own. Perfect!!! “Perfect!!!” is a way of feigning interest, enthusiasm, and joy--when you feel none of those things--to spare the other’s feelings. Example: You come home from work and your wife says, “We need to go shopping tonight.” You say, “Perfect!!!” If you say it emphatically enough, you can keep the sarcasm and disappointment hidden. She’s never the wiser. Perfect!!! “Perfect!!!” is a way of ending a monologue or undesired conversation. Example: When one is elucidating endlessly to convince you about how wonderfully he has done something or said something, if you say, “Perfect!!!” What else can he say? He has already convinced you. End of conversation. “Perfect!!!” “Perfect!!!” is a way of hiding your disappointment, frustration, and uncharitable emotions. You have sat in the restaurant booth for thirty minutes after you’ve ordered waiting for your steak. The waitress drops by and announces, in a way to feign her concern and accentuate her effort on your behalf, “I just went back to the kitchen to check on your food. They told me it would be ready in just a moment.” She finishes with a disarming smile. You say, “Perfect!!!” You want to say, “About time. I’ve waited thirty minutes.!” But she beams at your “Perfect!!!”. “Perfect!!!” “Perfect!!!” deflects from having to judge or be judged. We live in a society that does not want not be judged. Ironically, the worse judgment that one can receive is to be accused of judging. One may think something is subpar, lacking, etc., but if he says, “Perfect!!!.” he cannot be said to be judging by pointing out that something is wrong. He cannot be judged for judging. Someone announces she is going to go party and get soused. Another says, “Perfect!!!” He has not judged and, thus, cannot be judged. He has avoided sharing how He really feels. “Perfect!!!” I know I must have missed some other usages of “Perfect!!!” But, you say, “You need to stop. You’ve given enough. This has gone on long enough.” Oh, okay. Perfect!!! But, before I do, a concession, an analogy, and a spiritual truth. Concession: If any have found yourself punctuating your conversations with “Perfect,” I am not accusing you of consciously doing so as described above. If one of those illustrations describes how you use Perfect!!!, I am sure, it is unintentional. “Perfect!!!” is just one of those trendy expressions that are infectious. Most do not calculatingly adopt them. They catch them like the cold virus. And start sneezing them. Analogy: Perfectly good words are often prostituted and ruined by trendy, mundane, superfluous, imperfect usage. Remember, “Awesome!!!”? Awesome!!! was used so frequently for any and everything that Awesome!!! is no longer, well, awesome. It lost its awesomeness. “Perfect!!!” used imperfectly will lose its perfectness. Please don’t say it--“Perfect!!!” Spiritual truth: This blog actually came to me after reading from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount when He enjoined us to “be perfect even as your Father in heaven is perfect.” Wow! As perfect as God. How? This begs for exposition but maybe two quick conclusions would suffice. First, of all, that is just Jesus’ point. We CAN’T be perfect like the Father is perfect. Not on our own. Not by our efforts however strenuous they may be. Impossible. Yet, we are required to be perfect. That’s where the Good News comes in. That kind of perfection only comes through Christ. Our belief in Him. Our acceptance of Him through our repentance. And our letting Him live in and through us. And that can happen to any of us! “Perfect!!!” Really, “Perfect!!!” Second, we think of perfectness as exactness and flawlessness. The “perfect” that God is (and He is those things too) and the “perfect” we are to be, literally, at its root means “complete.” Only through Christ can we complete. Whole. We are complete in Christ, through Christ, by Christ. To that, I can only say Perfect!!! Really, “Perfect!!!” --Pastor Clifford Hurst