The Fish Tent

2 Corinthians 2:14-16
"In the Messiah, in Jesus Christ, God leads us from place to place in one perpetual victory parade. Through us, He brings knowledge of Jesus Christ. Everywhere we go, people breathe in the exquisite fragrance. Because of Jesus Christ, we give off a sweet scent rising to God, which is recognized by those on the way of salvation—an aroma redolent with life. But those on the way to destruction treat us more like the stench from a rotting corpse."

Many Point Boy Scout Reservation in the summer of 1981 became a place of legend for us. It is where a young man named Ted got his nickname "Cornbread." It is also where the Great Stone War of '81 took place. It is the sight of the Great AM Frog Migration. And it is also the origin of the Fish Tent.

We were mostly between the ages of ten and fifteen. Young, hormonally charged men, entrusted with pocket knives, tents, and far too much free time. Too much free time equals certain trouble. Shades of Stand By Me, Lord Of The Flies, and Bloodsport. Some of the things we did would most certainly frighten hardened members of both the Hell's Angels and the CIA.

We were a hodgepodge of humanity. There was Ja-hack and Dar-boy, Klingon and Bobbin-Swabbin, Venison and Cornbread, and oh yes, there was young Richard. (some nicknames just aren't reprintable) Now, Richard has a bit of an interesting history. From an early age, he believed he was the "law" around the neighborhood and in our Boy Scout Troop. Most Troops have Patrol Leaders, Chaplains, and Senior Patrol Leaders. Ah, but ours came complete with an MP: Richard. And let's just say that Richard wasn't the ripest apple on the tree.

We mostly let him have his illusion of authority. It was just too much fun to watch, I guess. Imagine going down a path in the woods, coming up to some other Boy Scouts in camp, and then Richard goes into action. "Yeah, uh, did you know that your patch violates the Sewing Codes. The stitches used aren't up to code. I'm sorry young man, but I'm going to have to report you."

No, I'm not kidding.

This was our Richard. One fine day at Many Point Scout Reservation, Richard decided to get away from the madness of camp life and go fishing for a while. And I must tell you, he was, despite all odds, rather successful in his excursion. He came back with a stringer full of sunnies and crappies. Do you remember that part about Richard not being the ripest apple? This would be foreshadowing.

Richard, very proud of course, comes swaggering back into camp with his fish. He's thinking "Hey, I've caught dinner for our camp." And I must admit, I was thinking that some fried fish would be a good deal after some of the meals we had been forced to consume. But in the midst of all this, something happened which forced Richard to have to store the fish and we all left camp. We were probably off to some cool activity like sailing or Capture the Flag. Richard looked around for a place to store the fish. The coolers were full. We were staying in tents and so we had no electrical appliances which would keep the fish. Richard figured that he should at least get the fish out of the sunlight. Not bad thinking on his part, but not genius level either. Far from it.

Richard lifted up the back corner of his tent and placed the fish there.

It's amazing how quickly an 11 year old forgets things. By the end of our activity, Richard had no recollection of having ever gone fishing that day. In fact, we all came back to camp, ate dinner, went to our evening campfire, and then headed off to bed with nary a thought of a certain stringer full of sunnies and crappies.

In fact, we didn't think of it for another three days. That's about the time the stench got so bad that people would actually gag as they walked past Richard's tent. In fact, it got so bad that our Scout Master could smell it in the next campsite and he came to investigate.

It wasn't a long investigation. All he had to do was follow the stench directly to the rotting maggot-ridden fish-corpses under the back corner of that poor Eureka tent. He lifted the corner and several young men heaved that day.

Paul, in his second letter to the church he helped start in Corinth, says that with Jesus in our lives, we give off a sweet smell. It reminds me of the angel Michael in the movie of the same name. John Travolta plays an angel and wherever he goes, he gives off the smell of cookies. With Jesus in our lives, we give off a sweet smell. But here's the thing: only others who have Jesus in their lives and God Himself recognize the scent as sweet.

For all of those who do not know God, we smell like rotting corpses. We are repulsive.

We cause heaving.

Those who are far from God's heart can not recognize the true nature of our scent. Because our scent goes through the filter of their lives. Their lives are filled with the stench of sin. And so our sweet smell is filtered through the stench and comes out smelling rotten. Our scent is so different than what they're used to, that it can only be recognized as stench, rather than the perfume it really is.

Somehow, we have to find a neutralizer. We need sort of a spiritual version of Febreeze. We spray it on ourselves as we head off to find lost people. Instead of smelling the stench, they simply smell nothing right away. Thus we get the chance to share Jesus Christ with them.

My friends, I think we do this by leaving behind self-righteousness and judgmentalism. We dismount our high horses and walk right up to these people and say: "You know what? I'm doing my best at this. I'm tryin' to live a good life like Jesus taught. But guess what? I am a hypocrite and I suck at this sometimes."

And for a brief moment, they get a waft of the sweet smell of Jesus on us. And it opens up some possibilities which didn't exist before. Suddenly they see Jesus as not being the source of judgmentalism and hypocrisy, but rather as a source of love and forgiveness. And maybe it doesn't happen then and there, but now the possibility exists that at some point they will smell the sweet scent of Jesus and desire it for themselves and they'll want to change, leaving behind sin. And as it happens more and more, they'll begin to take on the sweet scent themselves. They will embark upon the road to salvation. And those on the road to destruction will be repulsed by them. Those who once could only detect our scent as stench, have now become the stinky ones.

The beauty of this is, hopefully they remember what it was like to smell the stench of Christians and can relate to those who can only smell Christianity as a stench.

While there is a way to neutralize our stench as Christians by leaving behind our judgmentalism and admitting our hypocrisy, there was no way to eliminate the stench of the Fish Tent.

Forever after that camp, no one wanted to get stuck with the Fish Tent. The Fish Tent, if it still exists, would certainly still carry the vestiges of its stench today. Too bad we didn't have Febreeze back then.

God bless you, Richard.

Be WILD For Christ!

Pastor Shane

Which Thief Will You Be?

Luke 23:36-46
The soldiers also came up and poked fun at Him, making a game of it. They toasted Him with sour wine: “So you’re King of the Jews! Save Yourself!” Printed over Him was a sign: this is the King of the Jews. One of the criminals hanging alongside cursed Him: “Some Messiah You are! Save Yourself! Save us!” But the other one made Him shut up: “Have you no fear of God? You’re getting the same as Him. We deserve this, but not Him—He did nothing to deserve this.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when You enter Your Kingdom.” He said, “Don’t worry, I will. Today you will join Me in paradise.” By now it was noon. The whole earth became dark, the darkness lasting three hours—a total blackout. The Temple curtain split right down the middle. Jesus called loudly, “Father, I place my life in Your hands!” Then He breathed His last.

As a child, he was not greatly loved by his parents. His father was cruel and beat him regularly. He would lie in bed at night wondering why his father hated him. He would wonder why he didn't receive the same love his friends did from their parents. He would wonder why the only attention he received was from his father's fists. But then again, he would think, this attention was better than none. And so he discovered ways to get this sort of attention. He began to get into trouble at an early age. He began to hang out with those people...you know the ones. They're the ones you and I avoid when we're in public places. They're unsavory. We're not like those people...are we? I mean, look at how they dress! Look at the things they do! Can you believe them? These are the people at which we sneer and turn up our noses.

These are exactly the sort of people with which he began to hang out. He would get together with them and get into all sorts of trouble. And while he was with them, he had to be tough. He began to build, brick by brick, a shell around his heart to protect it from ever feeling anything...especially while he was with his “friends.” Because if they were to see any sort of weakness—and surely, his emotions were a weakness—they would capitalize on his weakness....exploit it...and then he would lose the only source of respect and belonging he had.

It feels good to be respected. It’s wonderful to belong. Think of your sources of respect. Think of the groups to which you belong. How does it feel to be shown respect? How does it feel to belong?

Or maybe you don't receive respect...maybe you don't belong. Maybe you’ve been an outcast…a misfit…unloved and unwanted? Maybe you don't get to play in all the reindeer games...in which case, you'll relate to this young man of which we speak today.

As he grew, he sought his recognition from his “friends” by doing the things they challenged him to do. It started with small things, pilfering a loaf of bread or a small animal from a farmer. These were the things he did to gain acceptance from his “friends.” And the more things he did, the more respect they showed him. They challenged him constantly to do such things…they challenged him physically. And so he became more and more tough…able to beat up just about anyone. And as he became more tough, he also became more proficient at stealing. It became his craft at which he practiced. To compare him to other laborers, he would be considered a master in his craft. He was well-respected in the thieves’ guild. All knew of his thieving prowess. He was, by this time, seemingly untouchable.

Seemingly.

No one is invincible. No one is untouchable. This thief was hired by some wealthier members of society to steal from the temple coffers. He had the plan all worked out. He knew the different access points to the temple. He had researched the comings and goings of the priests and knew the ideal times at which to make his attempt. His plan was in place. The time set. The preparations made.

The night before his attempt, he lay in his bed, working through the plan one last time to make sure things would go off without a hitch. He discovered no glitches in his plan…except one. And it was a strange one…one he hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was supplied to him from a quiet, almost inaudible voice from deep within—his conscience. “To steal from the temple coffers,” it said, “wouldn’t that be like stealing from God?”

He tossed and turned as he slept. He began to sweat. His sleep was fitful and rest-less. For even this hardened man, with a heart to match his calloused exterior…even this man believed in God.

He woke early, just before dawn, with a start. He sat straight up in bed…looking straight ahead, chest heaving. He remembered his dreaming of the night before. He remembered the words from his conscience. And again, for the first time in a long time, he did something not familiar to him…he worried.

He sat there, embalmed in his worry—for God knows how long. And then, with a shake of his head, he roused himself from his worry and doubt. He crawled back into the shell of his hardened heart and re-donned his calloused exterior. He was tough. He was a master-thief. He could not be touched and there was nothing about which to worry.
He headed out from his abode to accomplish his task. He was prepared.

Sometimes we do things to self-destruct. Our sub-conscious gets in the way…or maybe it’s our conscience…or maybe God Himself. For the first time…maybe ever…he made a mistake. Everything had gone perfectly. His plan was masterful…but his hands were not. He dropped the container holding the temple offerings. Coins scattered everywhere on the floor. It made a noise which was easily audible throughout the temple. Priests came rushing in. Guards closed off exits. He was caught. And as the guards closed in, he fell to his knees in defeat. There was no escape.

Being caught at what he did best…getting beat at your own game…this brings humility to one’s life. As he knelt on the cold stone floor of the temple, he felt a burning inside him which he hadn’t felt since he was a child. He tried to choke it back, but it remained…in fact, it spread. The stony shell of his heart cracked at that moment, and something Eternal found its way in. Would it be enough?

He stood trial. His sentence was passed. His reputation preceded him to the trial and his sentence was the maximum…death by crucifixion.

The date was set…it was to be the weekend of Passover.

He heard that there would be two others crucified that day as well. Huh…at least he wouldn’t be alone. I mean, if he’s going to go down…he’s not going to go down alone. Right? Another heart attempt at shutting down from all emotion.

Crucifixion. “What a horrible way to die,” he thought, “but think of the attention I’ll get.” For crucifixions brought everyone out. They were a major event. All would gather at the Hill Of The Skull for such an occasion.

Who can say exactly what happened that day. For truly, not much is recorded in Scripture of the goings on regarding our thief. But we do know this one thing: on that day, with nails piercing his flesh, he recognized his need for a Savior.

What did it…or what will it take for you to recognize your need for a Savior? Have you grown so full of yourself…or so hardened…that you’re unable to admit that you need help? Have you been so wounded in life that you’ve closed down to all emotion because it just hurts too much to feel? Or have you become so self-reliant that you’re unable to rely on anything or anyone outside yourself?

At points in my life, I most certainly have. And it’s a terrible place to live. And lonely too. Thankfully, it didn’t take physical nails piercing my flesh for me to be able to cry out, “Jesus, remember me when You enter Your Kingdom.”

But I can tell you, what it took hurt just as badly. To admit one’s own shortcomings…one’s failures…one’s hurts…and yes, one’s sins…this pain pierces to the depths of your heart…yes, to the core of your soul.

Take a look at yourself in the mirror today. What are your shortcomings? What are your failures? What are the wounds that hurt you? What are your sins? Recount them. Say them out loud. Write them.

Now, can you honestly say you don’t need help? Can you honestly say, that in the face of these things, you can deal with all of them on your own? Can you honestly say you don’t need a Savior?

Our thief could not. For that day upon the cross, he found himself in dire need of a Savior. And his heart, with years of disuse and misuse, found itself broken. Tears streamed down his face. And while one thief scoffed, this thief defended. While one thief rode his hardened heart to Hell, the other let his heart break and for the first time, he found his strength in what, for so many years, he thought of as weakness.

Will you let your heart break today? Will you take the risk of feeling? Will you open up and admit your need for a Savior?
Our Savior, Jesus, was crucified between two common thieves. And we’re really not all that different from them if we’re honest. We’ve fallen short. We’ve screwed up. We’ve done things of which we’re not proud.

But in the end, the choice is ours.

Which thief will you be?

Be WILD For Christ!


Pastor Shane

DEAD COMPUTER

{{sniff, sniff}}

If you have happened to check this out in the past week of two, you have probably noticed a stunning lack of new posts. Argh.

Well, sadly, my beloved iBook died. Something about a logic board and at some point in its life, someone decided to give it a bath with a glass of water. Apparently, laptops don't like to take a bath.

So...until my new pewter arrives...it'll be quiet around here.

Be WILD For Christ!


Shane Burton

He Paddles Alongside Us

2 Corinthians 1:3-5
"All praise to the God and Father of our Master, Jesus the Messiah! Father of all mercy! God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, He brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us. We have plenty of hard times that come from following the Messiah, but no more so than the good times of His healing comfort—we get a full measure of that, too."

I was in sixth grade when my friend and I were entrusted with a paddle, a canoe, and our belongings. With little training (one hour at Crooked Lake), we were set afloat in the current of the Kettle River. We were less than novice canoers. Is there a level lower than this? How about greenhorn or tenderfoot canoers. Skill? We had none. Fear? We had much! Experience? One hour in a lake.

Did you know that canoeing in a lake is radically different than canoeing in a river? We didn't. We figured that canoeing was canoeing no matter where you did it. We couldn't have been more wrong about this. Also, did you know that there is a class system for rivers? Apparently some rivers feel they're better than others and so they've assigned themselves classes to differentiate between upper and lower class rivers. For example, the Mighty Mississippi is mostly a class 1 river. It's lazy, it winds about, meandering through the countryside. Then you have a river like the Colorado River which is often a class 5 river. Major whitewater and rapids. Prepare for certain death unless you're well-trained or with a guide. Novice is not a word you want to hear in conjunction with a class 5 river. Novice = death.

The Kettle River, depending upon the level of the water, ranged from class 1 to class 4, depending upon where you were and when you were. Well, dear friends, we were there in the middle of the scorching summer heat. Water level is low. Rocks are exposed. Current is swift. And 6th graders are clueless and petrified.

We also thought that it would be a good idea to pick the coolest canoe we could find. We didn't want any of the boring aluminum canoes. Certainly not! Especially when there was a cool fiberglass canoe which was a replica of an old Native American canoe, complete with the high bow and stern.

Here's a question for you nautical types: what happens when you combine wind with a large, flat surface area? That's right! You get a sail. And because of the high bow and stern on our canoe, we had a lot of surface area. So, when the wind kicked up, there was a problem.

I was in the canoe with my friend, Burt. As I said, we were hormonally challenged greenhorn canoers. We didn't know the difference between an oar and a paddle (look it up). We got into the river with our canoe without tipping it over. This was a feat in and of itself, considering we weren't thinking at all of canoeing. We were discussing the lasses from our classes. The day was sunny. Life was good. It was a Pez moment. We were doing just fine.

And then came the wind. You see, we didn't really understand the fine art of steering a canoe. Also, our scrawny twelve year old arms weren't able to push all that hard in the wind. We went from fine to "Oh dear God, somebody help us!" in a matter of minutes. We had no control over our canoe. We were literally spinning in circles as we went down the river. Older boys went by us laughing. We were beginning to get scared. And then we did get scared. We began to hear something. It sounded much like a train coming in the distance. White noise with some thunder mixed in.

The sound of river rapids approaching. We began in the class 1 part of the river. We were rapidly approaching the class 4 part. "Danger Will Robinson! Danger!" Traveling sideways rapidly approaching rapids is not a place you ever want to find yourself. We safely made it through the first fifty yards with just a few bumps and scrapes along the bottom of the canoe. However, the five foot drop was yet to come. We were still headed sideways. Large rocks are everywhere. Water is coursing through the rock maze, sloshing about in a wild thunderous fray. Our canoe turned slightly so we were at least going diagonally and we hit a monster rock. The speed of the current propelled us on top of the rock. Our canoe was dangerously close to tipping over and we were absolutely stuck. Our scrawny arms weren't able to do a thing. We used our paddle to try and push us off the rock, but it was no good.

And then we saw him. Our old Scoutmaster, Don McGrath. Very calmly he paddled through the wild current. His face was calm. There was even a hint of a smile there. Burt and I looked at each other and realized neither of us had breathed in a while and when we saw his face, our breathing began again. Don canoed right up alongside us. He then attached his canoe to ours and jumped out of his canoe. Sacrificing himself for us, he pushed us off the rock and then, while traveling through the rapids still, he was able to climb back into his canoe and tow us to safety. Don then had us separate and we split up and went with other people in their canoes.

Don came up alongside us and led us alongside others. Burt and I weren't able to really help anyone out in the canoeing area of life. But in other areas, we were there. I'd like to say that God used us mightily at that point to help others out. But that's just not the case. We were twelve, inexperienced, and rather selfish.

But this is exactly how God uses us in ministry. He comes up alongside us to rescue us. He did this through His Son Jesus, who came right up alongside each and everyone of us through His birth, His life, His death, and His resurrection to rescue us from traveling sideways down the rapids of life. And then He led us to safety. And He led us alongside others who were also traveling sideways so that we could help them. God uses us to help each other. God uses us precisely because we have had hard times so we will be able to relate to others who are going through hard times.

God uses broken people to reach broken people. Because God Himself knows what it's like to be broken. He was broken for each of us upon the cross by the nails of our collective sins.

Are you traveling sideways down the river of life? Pray for God to send someone to rescue you. Chances are, you'll find someone there for you who was just as lost at one point in their lives. They're just as broken, just as confused. But they've been there before and they are there for you now.

Right now, is your canoe pointed relatively downstream and you're doin' okay? Well my friend, pray for God to use you today. Pray for God to open your eyes to others downstream from you who are spinning out of control. Pray that God will use you, yes you, my friend to paddle up alongside them to help them out.

It might be dangerous. It may require sacrifice. It may require pain.

But when you were lost and your canoe was spinning wildly out of control, wasn't it nice to have someone else risk their safety for yours? Didn't it feel good to be rescued? And in the moment, did you really consider the sacrifice which had been made on your behalf? It was dangerous for them. It required sacrifice. It may have even required pain. And yet someone was there for you. God brought them up alongside you.

It was dangerous for Jesus. It required the ultimate sacrifice. And it certainly required pain. God came up alongside us to rescue us from the raging torrent.

Today, He wants to use you to paddle up alongside someone else. In return for your sacrifice, you will receive the joy of having rescued someone. But you will also receive healing comfort promised in equal measure.

Scan the horizon of the part of the river of life you're traveling for people whose canoes are out of control. And remember the times when you've been in the same situation. Be WILD For Christ!

Pastor Shane