8.31.2005

ahh

This is the first steady, soaking rain we've had in a long time. Actually, it's the first I remember in months, having spent the summer in parched LA. It was raining when I switched off my reading lamp last night. It was raining harder when I rose to turn off the alarm this morning. It's an assertive, unquestionable rain, the take-off-your-coat-and-stay-a-while kind, and it's wonderful. The unmet anticipation of humidity is done with; the gray sky forces the moisture from the atmosphere and pushes it into the puddles.
The rain makes everyone equal for a little while. We all come into class shaking off our backpacks, shoes squeaking on the tile floor, we dart between buildings pretending to dodge raindrops. But there is no issue of belief, of preference, or decision. Somebody else has decided the rain to be here, a truth that no one underneath considers to deny. We either get wet or stay inside. I choose to be wet!

8.29.2005

drafts

I was reading tonight in Patricia Hampl's I Could Tell You Stories: Sojourns in the Land of Memory. She talks about the memoir form being how the writer grapples with and understands memory, and somehow gives it meaning. But one thing she said caught my attention: "a careful first draft is a failed first draft." It caught my attention becasue my self-conscious impulse is nothing BUT to create a careful first draft. Especially with the advent of the blog, when I press the "publish post" button to release it to be read. It's a bit exciting, and the excitement makes my fingers careful on the keys, and make me comb back through to make sure everything is the way I like it. The one thing a blog makes me unable to be is spontaneous and undirected, which is exactly what Hampl would call a failure and inhibition to memory.
There, that was more or less spontaneous. But is that something worth reading about?

8.24.2005


Driving through the Adirondacks

big things

These days are the beginnings of big things. Making first impression, re-befriending old friends and re-acquainting old acquaintances, brainstorming with IV leadership with a fresh and unfrustrated vision. The possibilities are overwhelming...I can't wait to see how God will sieze them.

Busyness is the enemy that hovers in the gap of meantime. It pushes the Most Important to the fringes, pretending its temporary aims to be the real thing. And selfishness is the cause of busyness. It tells me to please as many people as often as possible, to polish my reputation so my own face will reflect. What could a schedule be like without the upkeep of this image? I hope I learn this fall. I hope I can be like Jesus, who did enough. People tugged at his robe and asked him to stay, but he left them. He was probably offered money and better accomodations, but he wasn't concerned. "I must preach the good news to the other towns also, because that is why I was sent" (Luke 4:43).

My time is not my own. I was bought with a price.

8.12.2005

stuffed up

I started packing for college last night. Here's what I discovered: 45% of my property is things I'm saving from the past--books, clothing, papers, old gadgets. I don't use them anymore, or I need them only often enough to forget where I put them. Then 45% are things that I may use in the future. Most of the books I'm bringing to college, for instance, I probably won't read, but find security in the idea that I'll have them with me. The remaining 10% of my stuff is actually useful in the present. Or less. Crazy? Even more, that small sliver of earthly baggage flows constantly to either the closet or the moving box. Always we must have something new, and we must save the old. Sowing and reaping and storing away in barns.
"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?" Matt. 6:28-30

8.10.2005

Finished the follow-up letter!

Here's the text:

How can I describe what this summer was like? To answer the most popular question: yes. I loved the California weather! But in fact, I might have had an equally good experience in a ring of tents on the Alaskan tundra. What counted was that God changed my heart. Let me tell you how.

I won’t forget the way milk looks washing down over a black stone, filmy and shimmering white. Three weeks ago I saw it, sitting cross-legged on the floor of a Hindu temple, peering into an inner chamber where a seven-foot tall stone idol was dimly lit. Our group observed worship that day as guests of the Hindu devotees, normal people like you an I—mothers and children, old men and women, fathers and teens. The entering worshippers withdrew gallons of milk and bunches of bananas from plastic shopping bags and passed them to the front. Two priests wrapped in bath towels waist-down began to chant, and poured pitcher after pitcher of milk over the head and shoulders of their idol, ceremonially bathing their god. Every drop of milk brought that day, I’d say 40 gallons, splashed off the stone and ran out the gutter. The sad news is not wasted milk, but that these people loved by God believe their sacrifices to Vishnu will bring blessing and prosperity. And if they know enough, have done enough, have been devoted enough, they can hope to be reincarnated into a higher position in life.

The purpose of our temple visits and seminars was to become acquainted with the major world religions, most of which are predominate in places where people have never heard the Gospel. (See map on separate sheet). I learned that the country of India alone contains 2,300 distinct “people groups, ” out of which over 2,000 have no practical access to a Christian witness. The world is home to 10,000 distinct language/culture groups. A political nation-state is not a single group of alike people, but a collage of languages, histories, religions, affinities. Of the 10,000, over 4,000 have not heard the news of Jesus. These are the “nations” the Bible speaks of, that God will bless with redemption. Each will see Jesus through their own cultural eyes and worship him in their own tongue!

In all their many stripes, the religions of the world have much in common: Muslims, by living up to the Five Pillars of Islam, rest on the faith that in the end their good deeds will balance out the bad. Hare Krishna devotees renounce the material world and recite the names of Krishna at least 1725 times daily to experience a higher existence. Millions in Africa, South America, and Asia live with animistic worldviews, fearing the demonic and taking their chances to manipulate spirits for protection or power. These are manmade distractions from the problem of sin that we are helpless by our own strength to overcome. They share the hope that somehow, through mantras, through goodness, through knowledge, we might change ourselves—we might even get to know the Divine. But these billions do not know the One God who made the universe, or His Son, who died in their place to free them from the hopelessness of sin and the hypocrisy of self-help (as he needs to no less for us). They don’t yet know the Jesus who can heal their families, cast out their demons, and give them a new heart of love and hope. I learned this summer how astonishingly little the Western Church as used its vast resources to reach the unreached. Instead, we have often added the Gospel to the American Dream and pursued comfort and security. We are no less needy for the Gospel. The only difference is we have heard it.

But here’s the enlivening news: missions is not our concoction. It is the heart of God. He has always had his heart and His promise set on the entire world. We look toward worship in heaven with “a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people, and language” (Revelation. 7:9). The Bible reveals that since the creation of language and culture (Genesis 10 & 11) God has been actively reaching the nations. God tells Abraham that he will be blessed so that “all the peoples on earth will be blessed through you” (Gen. 12:3). The Old Testament bulges at chapter and verse with references to God’s desire for all peoples to know him. Even through Israel’s rocky history the fame of their true God spreads to the surrounding nations. The Psalmist writes “May all the nations be glad and sing for joy. / … God will bless us, / and all the ends of the earth will fear Him” (Psalm 67). Habakkuk paints this picture: “The earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea” (2:14). Before Jesus walks the earth, God is clear about what He will accomplish, and the New Testament fulfils what God had promised all along. Two thirds of Jesus’ major miracles were done for non-Jews. And Paul writes, “He redeemed us in order that the blessing given to Abraham might come to the Gentiles [any non-Jew] through Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:14). The Gospel has always been on its way to somebody else. It didn’t stop with Israel, and it doesn’t stop with America. Jesus tells his disciples how it will end up: “This Gospel of the Kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come.” Who will take it there?

One of my deepest-set convictions from this summer is that human beings are truly not content without the fulfillment of being reconciled to God through Jesus Christ. For some reason, maybe because I’ve grown up with Christ commonplace, that stunned me. He is the longing of the human heart. And God is active in His creation, reaching the lost and giving light to earnest seekers. It’s been estimated that half of all Muslims who place their faith in Christ do so after they have a dream of a man in a white robe saying “follow me.” Another example: a man spoke to us who had worked among a tribal people called the Iteris (ee-teddies) in Papua New Guinea for twenty years, beaming to recount how eager the tribe was to learn the Word of God, and how passionately they knew they needed a sacrifice in their place—before they were even taught about Jesus! Now this tribe has a vibrant, indigenous and growing body of believers.

I have realized that the wealth of knowledge I gained this summer will only fester if I don’t act on it. I must take the Word of God as basis enough to work, believe, and pray that all the nations know Jesus, the one who told his very ordinary, fearful followers “All authority on heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey all that I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matthew 28:18-20).

I wish I could say more than what fits in this letter! Thank you once again for supporting me this summer. It was more than a plane ticket and lodging for seven weeks. Be encouraged to know that you are directly involved in not only my growth, but in whatever impact my life makes in the future! I would love to talk with you more, whether in person or long distance, to answer questions, share resources, or hear your thoughts. Just ask!

For God’s glory among the nations,

Tyler Smith


“If Jesus Christ be God and died for me, then no sacrifice can be too great for me to make for Him.” - C.T. Studd, college student in the 1880s who gave up stardom on the Oxford cricket team, a widowed mother, his father’s fortune, and the family estate to join the China Inland Mission.


Take a look:

www.thetravelingteam.org
The Traveling Team is dedicated to mobilizing college students to fulfill the Great Commission. They coordinated the summer project. Check out “Becoming a World Christian” and “Resources.”
www.perspectives.org
Home site for Perspectives on the World Christian Movement. A class every Christian should take!
www.joshuaproject.net
A wealth of colorful data on all the world’s peoples to inform praying, giving, and going.

Fixing my eyes

2 Corinthians 4:16-18
Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

8.08.2005

summer mornings

Summer mornings are beautiful and fragile things--as soon as one is in your ears and eyes and warms you enough to be inspired, it starts to escape. Rise too early and you feel nocturnal. Rise too late and you feel like you're already chasing the school bus as it drives away down the road.
Behind my house is a small bank and a slow brown creek. The water is nearly blocked from sight by fast-growing weed trees and ingrown underbrush, except where it is maintained as a hard-beaten track by my dog's daily watch. It looks east. In the early morning the sunlight is still clotted by the treetops, and crosses the back deck before coming into the house, where I will sit facing north, with a warm right leg.
As the light gets hotter and the cicadas warm up to their song, and as coffee passes through my teeth, I relish the few minutes of real morning. But soon the day's possibilities start to knock and pry and enter, and no matter how many times I look at the clock, it is already getting late.

"Let the morning bring me word
of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul."
Psalm 143:8

"Turn my heart toward your statutes
and not toward selfish gain.
Turn my eyes away from worthless things;
preserve my life according to your word"
Psalm 119:36&37

8.04.2005

Hometown

You can't ever change your hometown, can you? Mine has seemed a great static force in my life. Always existent, always a reference point. I leave and come back a different person, but it's always the same. Stores go up and come down, paving is replaced, the town green goes through its seasons, college students enter and exit, but this place is still the same persistent snapshot in my memory.
I drove into town to pick up a pizza the other day, and was suddenly conscious of myself in the third person, driving my mother's car, feeling the town's knowledge of who I am peer through the window and re-estimate me--the Smith boy, the MUHS grad, my sister's brother. But that isn't the self that I know, that I feel, setting the brake and jogging into the restaurant. I am learning to be discontent with them. I never thought I would be.

8.03.2005

God is not threatened; rather, He is immeasurably saddened by false worship. When people worship anyone or thing else besides Him, they become like it. God has better intentions for people. - Steven Hawthorne

8.02.2005

false prophets

I don't want to be one. The snag is that it's much easier to tell people what they want to hear than the Truth of God. In Jeremiah chs. 28-29, Hananiah and Shemaiah prophesy good things for the Hebrew nation. While Jeremiah prophesies 70 years of exile in Babylon, the more popular prophets are saying "soon God will bring you back home. Don't worry." God punishes them with death, and gives this message to Israel through Jeremiah: "Do not let the prophets and diviners among you decieve you. Do not listen to the dreams you encourage them to have. They are prophesying lies to you in my name. I have not sent them" (29:7). Most people want to hear only good things, too. But God's Truth is better in the long run. He says "I will discipline you, but only with justice" (30:11). The best intentions, if they aren't based on truth, are deadly.

8.01.2005

Meet my IT project friends

new bros and sistas (Thanks Amanda for the photos).

on working

Gearing up for a day of work around the house. Carpet is going downstairs next week before Mom gets home, and I told dad I'd be his contractor this week to get it ready. Ah, yes...nothing like it. Hands are busy while the mind is free to wander. I think better when I'm working. I talk better while I'm working too. Ever notice that? Maybe it's a male thing--but talking and only talking can be a little awkward. Feels more natural to have some common purpose at the same time, like it gives validation to the relationship or something.