WASHING FEET AND POLISHING BOOTS

One of the notable Holy Week activities in which the new pope participated was the footwashing ceremony, where the international prelate removes his robes, takes a basin, washes and kisses the feet of prisoners. Pope Francis requested that this time women convicts be included. “This could be an indication that this pope favorably considers the ordination of women”, said a news commentator.

Washing the feet of people who are seen as marginal and undeserving has nothing to do with women’s ordination to the priesthood. With some preface comments, John tells the story of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples: 1) Jesus knew that the time had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love. 2) The Passover Seder was being served, and the devil had already prompted Judas Iscariot, son of Simon, to betray Jesus. 3) Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; SO... he got up from the meal, wrapped a towel around his waist, poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet...” John 13.1-16. The story touches our hearts with the humility of the King of Kings hours before he suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead and buried. The dialogue between Peter and Jesus was so down to earth: “You’ll never wash my feet!” “If I don’t, you have no part with me”. “Then wash me from hear to toe!” It shows how disciples, even today, misunderstand the meaning of servanthood. Instead of all-or-nothing in giving of ourselves in service to the Lord and His children, we more often envision all-or nothing as “I want all the blessings God has for me and none of the discomforts of being faithful to His calling!” In case (for sincerity or show) we actually participate in a footwashing ceremony, we certify that those whose feet will be washed previously had their baths and will be ever grateful for our goodness! Peter was going to deny Christ hours later, and Jesus knew it. Judas had already betrayed Jesus, and the Lord pointed out “The one who dips his bread with me” without negating his participation in the Last Supper.

Once a lady we knew bragged, “My spiritual gift is humility”. I recounted to myself the fruit of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control), noting that humility is not a fruit but an order: “Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up” explained a few verses before: "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble" (James 4.10, 6).

Last Saturday, while we were talking on the verandah with our adult children, Adriana brought out a box of shoeshining equipment and a couple of pairs of boots which she sturdily put on and our eldest son began to polish boots, hers and his. I jokingly said, “Wow, I haven’t had my boots shined sine Lau bought them for me five years ago!”, and Davi insisted I bring them to him to be shined. I sat watching that brilliant, talented man of God dirtying his hands as he applied black polish, taking a brush and then a soft, clean  rag to the leather and working an almost mirror-like shine into those boots. Often when he and his father talk about deep spiritual and intellectual issues, one of us does some menial, repetitive task as the conversation goes on, but at that moment that shoeshining reminded me of Jesus washing the dusty feet of the disciples.

Years ago, when Davi was very little and we were in Garanhuns, in the Northeastern region of Brazil, where Lau was preaching at a youth camp, a boy came to the porch asking if we had shoes to shine. Davi got together all the shoes in our family and gave them to be shined (and paid for by us), meanwhile talking about Jesus and sharing a Gospel of John with the older boy. That boy ended up accepting Christ as his Savior and later went to school and ended up becoming a pastor. The story was published in Evangelizing Today’s Child, the periodical for Child Evangelism Fellowship, in the late Eighties. Davi was only five, but had a penchant for shining shoes and sharing the Gospel.

My mind reaches out to Ephesians 6.15: “with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace” which describes the way Davi and other of God’s servants develop their walk, ready to stand their ground, and after having done everything, stand firm in full armor. Serving God means preparing, which starts with divesting ones’ self of fancy clothes and sophisticated apparatus,  getting out a towel and basin, or boot polish, brush and rags, and getting to work. Once a teacher at our seminary commented: “If your feet are well-shod and your hands are clean and beautiful, you will be elegant, no matter how simple your clothes”. May I continue to learn the lessons of beautiful feet that bring glad tidings! (À propos, Davi got his blackened hands cleaned with kerosene remover before getting a long bath. Next morning he was ready, serving our church, sitting on the floor with the little kids and then preaching with power to God-hungry grownups. I wore my freshly-shined black boots).

.Elizabeth Gomes

WHEN CHILDREN OF GODLY PARENTS GO AWRY

Luther's family

Recently a pastor’s wife introduced me to a thought-provoking blog (Marc5Sola) for Christian parents today: “Top ten reasons our kids leave church” – with the horrific information that 70% of  Evangelical kids leave the church when they leave High School! Years ago a friend told me she was absolutely sure her children would be model Christians – the Bible guarantees, according to Proverbs 22:6, that if we train them in the way they should go, even when they get old they will not stray, she declared. I don’t know how her kids turned out, but looking at the situation of Evangelical leaders all over the world, we have to admit that many of their children are far from the straight and narrow (or whatever you call the ideal Christian life). Recently, the world was shocked when the son of a renown minister murdered his father and mother after the evening church service when dad refused to lend him the family car. He attacked his dad, and when mom tried to wield the knife from the drunken or drugged twenty-something-year-old, fatally stabbed her as well.

A Christian leader told me that almost eighty per cent of the pastors of his denomination have grown children who have either scandalized or left the church where their parents are presented as examples of doctrine, life and learning. Many prominent pastors have changed their workplace or ministry because of insurmountable family problems, though their books and sermons continue to be paradigms of ethics and virtue in the wider circles of the church.

When I consider these things, I remember an anecdote about Charles Spurgeon, who, upon seeing a visibly drunken bum saunter by, said, “There, but for the grace of God, go I!” There, but for God’s infinite grace, each of us sinners can only say the same. Yes, but unbelievably, God’s grace was present with the nationally known minister who was senselessly murdered along with his wife by a son he raised in love. Grace in the lives of the many Bible teachers who had to “move to another field” in order to protect or cover up their children’s malfeasance. God’s mercy when children lie, steal, do drugs, are sexually promiscuous and make terrible choices that affect their lives for years to come – God’s grace shines through broken lives, not only of those who came from bad homes and adverse situations, but those who came from good, godly homes with every stimulus to a good life and trampled every blessing of which they had partaken as children of the Covenant.

But for the grace of God I would have been a wretched rebel who screwed up big time. Oh, I was a “good girl” who knew my Bible better than many preachers, leader in our youth group and correspondent with missionaries since before I was in High School. I represented my school as “best student” and worked as an English tutor from age fourteen when I wasn’t studying, leading or reading. Sang in the school trio, youth ensemble, church choir, and solos on invitation to other churches or events. My double life hid my dream of becoming a spy so I could patriotically commit all sorts of immoralities or even crimes in the name of my country. My missionary parents’ lives were falling apart and I blamed them for their catastrophic choices – and made sure to leave them for good by marrying at age eighteen. By God’s grace, I married a godly man who loved me and we built a life on the solid Rock – but my brief pre-marriage rebellion was deep and wicked.

My husband and I look at our children with pride because they turned out much better than we had ever been. But for the grace of God – and in spite of our fumbled attempts to mold them in our own likeness. Back to the problem of lost children of godly parents, several types of problems appear with descendants who stray among God’s people. Lau sometimes uses the metaphor of bike-riding to describe them.

First, there who are those who never learned to ride a bicycle. Maybe they even sped up and down the sidewalk on their tricycles or pulling red wagons, but they never were taught to balance on a ten-speed bike. A teenager commenting on family with disciplinary issues with their pre-schoolers said, “They seem to lack basic parenting skills”. The couple still had not matured sufficiently to transmit assurance and values to their kids. But the problem of never having learned to ride a bike can easily be corrected – you can learn by practice.

I remember trying to be a bicycle acrobat – standing up, riding backwards, getting five kids on top of one two-wheeler – and acquiring my share of cuts, bruises and embarrassed falls. There are children of Christian parents who fall from their bikes, even when the parents taught them well and were close by. Falling from a bike might mean a scraped knee or even a broken arm, but a band-aid on the knee or a cast on the arm is not life-threatening. Wise parents treat the hurt, instruct and insist on safety measures, and help their child get back on the bike and learn to ride well. Falling from a bicycle is not a moral issue.

Stealing a bike is. Two or three times in the lives of our biking kids, someone took their bike and they never got it back. Now, Christian parents try to instill moral values in their offspring, and most of us start with the Golden Rule and the Ten Commandments. Our family added a Bible memorization plan with a verse a day – the book of Proverbs was especially effective in our home. But no matter how much biblical and moral wisdom we teach, our children are sinners who fall short of God’s glory and sooner or later will “steal a bike” – do something knowingly wrong for any one of many reasons – and try to justify or rationalize their disobedience to God’s laws. In this, too, they have their parents for teachers. Even if we never had committed any immorality, our beautiful kids have the primeval Edenic parents sinning in their genes.

The first time one of my children committed the immoral act of stealing he slipped a matchbox car into my purse, taking it home “to safety”. When I found the car in my bag and asked him where he got it, he said, “If it’s in our bag it’s ours!” He expected me to be his willing accomplice! Over the years, many times our children are tempted (and sometimes succumb) to moral issues. That was the case with Eli and his grown sons. While Samuel, “ministered to the LORD before Eli the priest”, “the sons of Eli were corrupt; they did not know the LORD”. Samuel became a righteous judge and prophet, but Eli was lax and blind toward his sons, who stole “the best meat for the sacrifice and sexually assaulted the women who met at the door of the tabernacle”.  The outcome: the Ark of the Covenant fell into the hands of the Philistines and Hophni and Phineas died in battle.

Recovery in a case of stealing a bike requires much more than healing “felt hurts” or therapeutic reassurance! The letters to the churches in Asia Minor seem written for today’s situation. “You have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead”, the Lord says to Sardis. “Wake up! Strengthen what remains and is about to die!” (Revelation 3.1-2 NIV). Remember where you are coming from and where you fell (what you have received and heard), repent and restore to practices of justice (repentant obedience – Revelation 3:3).

Besides the moral problem of stealing, bikers are sometimes crushed by a drunken driver or an ungoverned, wild truck – maybe even with no driver. My friend Ana is an athlete, and in her fifties she still bikes ten mile a day to and from the university where she teaches. Last year she lost a colleague, a fellow-biker run over and killed by an intoxicated driver who was never caught or punished. Some children of good – of godly parents, not just good in the sense of Harold Kushner’s “When bad things happen to good people”, for we believe: “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” and "There is no one righteous, not even one” (Romans 3.23, 10) – go through tragedies that not only knock them down but smash and crush them to dust.

Debilitating disease. Terminal cancer. Severe mental illness. Unyielding depression ending in suicide. We are painfully familiar with the stories and God plays no favorites. There are no Christian clichés, no superficial comfort, no supposed “God’s promised victory” – no matter how much we’ve prayed, pleaded and interceded for them, God was silent. Some of our children find themselves in such situations. Job suffered the crushing loss of all his sons and daughters in one humungous major accident. Only it was no accident. In his sovereign mercy, God had allowed Satan to mercilessly attack everything and everyone dear to Job. Michael Horton’s “Too good to be true – finding hope in a world of hype” talks about these things, dissecting them from personal experience seen through the perspectives of the cross and the resurrection. It is a book of comfort to all who suffer great loss, and people in ministry, whether respected pastors or anonymous missionaries, are never immune. Seems that often we women, used to carrying the world on our shoulders, are particularly (though not the only ones) prone to being wiped out by the tragedies our families go through.

Whether our children don’t know how to ride, fall off their bikes, steal someone else’s bike or get dangerously run over, we are not to blame for what they do once they are old enough to fend for themselves. Lots of us get bogged down in the slough of despondency for things we cannot control or change. On the other hand, we are responsible to pray for our children since their existence began in a mother’s womb, responsible to teach and pray with them while they are being molded as little children, growing children, pre-teens and young men and women – into what God wants them to be. And pray for them after they gain independence and leave the nest – as much as we did all the early years of their life. This balance of responsibility before God and letting go of any attempt to control people or circumstances in the lives of our heirs has at times been lost, other times maintained, still other times expanded – by women and men who love God and love their children for God’s glory – in spite of ourselves.

Elizabeth Gomes

GREAT READINGS, MOVING WRITING AND MOMENTOUS BOOKS

The other day on facebook I mentioned hunger for a great read – everything in our house and library had been digested and my silent request for more good books on my Amazon wish list (or even a subscription to a couple of periodicals to keep us up-to-date – like Time or Newsweek for general splattering and Christianity Today and World and Discipleship for a Christian focus) plus the knowledge that now we have Kindle in Brazilian Portuguese – all made me covet sincerely. God did not grant an answer according to my dubious heart (Can one covet sincerely, like “sin with an authentic desire to possess thy neighbors’ books or mags or disposable income for literary purchases”? Like one can “sincerely be wrong and set in ways of error...”) – He is, after all, sovereign over all the earth as well as over my own selfish desires. Last year a dear aunt sent me a bag of good books which kept me busy for a few months. And this Christmas, my eldest son gave me a riveting Kingsolver book for Christmas.

Barbara Kingsolver is one of my favorite authors. Each book she spins is unique – a totally different story set in a different ambiance – my first experience with Kingsolver was the Congo of the fifties and sixties in Poisonwood Bible. Then I moved to the world of art and communist politics with Frieda Kahlo and an American hero and expatriate in Mexico of pre World War II with The Lacuna. The Beanwood Trees explored life, responsible and abandoned childhood of Native Americans of the Southwest, and now Flight Behavior weaves a beautiful tale of a woman of Appalachia whose greatest dream was to flee from everything her miserable life meant – with an incredible mountaintop experience which made her return to face and enrich her life as well as the lives of those around her. All Kingsolver’s books deal with spiritual emptiness and religious crises as well as earthy biological and sociological situations. The mountaintop experience is not conversion or even acceptance of God’s will – Kingsolver writes with the eyes of a scientist who has serious doubts about established religion, though she is immersed in religious language and lore. You can’t put a Kingsolver book down lightly – though she titles it “flight behavior”, the behavior of flight takes on many meanings and transfixes one’s vision of common country life and scientific enquiry.

In an entirely different vein are Brenda Rickman Vantrease’s historical novels like The Illuminator and the Mercy Seller, which brought to life and got me hooked on pre-Reformation situations in England and Bohemia (am still waiting to get The Heretic’s Wife which will transpose me to yet another spot and Reformer). Late Middle Ages and early Reformation days com alive in Vantrease’s well-woven, vero simile tales that read as I wish I could write my next novel – with historicity and keen theological philosophy – without committing grave errors in Biblical or historical facts.

Just watched a TV special on new writers on the bestsellers rack and can’t believe E. L. James’s Shades of Gray (fifty and other shades) gained such tremendous following. Guess part of the postmodern scene is “steamy like you’d never admit to reading in polite society a few years back”.

Back to the idea of writing, I guess I enjoy reads like Lya Luft’s, Isabel Allende’s and Gabriel Garcia Marquez’ – that’s the Latin American writer crying out within me. Can’t forget Americans like Alice Walker and Willa Cather or Pat Conroy and Louisa May Alcott or Hawthorne and Hemingway and Scott Fitgerald. Or Brits like P.D. James and Dorothy Sayers and Agatha Christie – so many diverse and divergent good writers I couldn’t begin to list what touched me – and that without the divine element of Christian writing.

I dream of writing good reads that portray a Christian worldview regarding tarnished fallen humanity vis a vis exquisite, unmerited God-mercy. Do something like Jerry Jenkins did for premillenial Bible prophecy in the Left Behind saga – in a Biblically Reformed and Christ-centered story of love and redemption for today! Pretty hard task to fulfill – especially due to the fractures and fallenness of this unworthy writer with unruly yearnings and undisciplined writing life.

Why should fantastic stories such as Rowling’s Harry Potter et al or Stephanie Meyer’s Twighlight saga gain larger followings than C. S. Lewis or even Tolkien, who also wrote fantastic fantasies with eternal values? I admit I enjoyed Harry Potter and the idea of good witches outwitting the bad is attractive – but even Madeleine L’ Engle fell short of gaining the popularity of today’s neo-pagans. A few years ago a Christian story gained the bestseller status with The Shack, but besides its psychological soul-searching after a tragic murder and mixed and muddled theology of the Trinity to gain such a following, there wasn’t too much that stayed permanent. No one today is recommending it as “you’ve got to read this”. Which brings me to my motives in reading and writing, and my unrealistic yearnings.

The goal of writing great fiction that touches many readers for eternity is somewhat unrealistic because my own ideas of truth are often muddled by the reality of Romans 7:19-22, which, thank God, ends in “Thanks be to God – through Jesus Christ our Lord!” but has all the interim experience of “When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched woman I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?”(NIV). Whether in writing about life and death or living around writing and not saying what I really mean, a lot that I know is good and have learned throughout life is annulled by my human condition – precisely the condition that produces good writing!

Then, my aim is also askew. In my life purpose, I declare that, like the phenomenal Christian Paul, this un-phenomenal woman’s goal is “that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, if, by any means, I may attain to the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me” (Philippians 3:10-12 NKJ). But in practice, I’m not that great about wanting to know Christ better. Maybe attracted to power (especially of words!), but “fellowship of his sufferings and conformity to his death” sound awfully masochistic! Who will deliver me from this body of death? (Romans 7:24). I do subscribe to the Westminster Confession of Faith declaration of humankind’s principal aim in life: “Love God and love one’s neighbor” (as in Mark 30:31). And I discover that for all practical purposes, I’ll never be a great Christian writer – just an earthbound common, everyday Christian who reads, breathes, thinks, has doubts and epiphany-like joys, loves, sometimes despises, often is bewildered – and writes trying to keep in mind the Word that was made flesh as I flesh out words, sometimes of wisdom, more often of folly, always trying to read “what God hath wrought”.

Elizabeth Gomes

DECK THE HALLS WITH BOUGHS OF...



  http://www.google.com.br/imgres?imgurl=http://www.freefoto.com/images/90/15/90

Holly, spruce, Paraná pine, palm boats, pinecones, balls of papier maché, tinsel – whatever thy hand findeth to do! We used to plan Christmas decorations starting the day after Thanksgiving, but where I live there is no USA-style thanksgiving tradition, and the stores and shopping centers start putting out holiday decorations beginning of November. For years I have wanted to put up a real rooted pine tree, planted in a big box for transplanting to the front yard so next year we have a tall outdoor tree. Not a branch stuck in a twenty-liter can of sand that dries up by the time January 6^th comes round – but an old-fashioned Tannenbaum, decorated with antique colored glass balls, intricate paper cutouts, bows and pinecones and maybe even popcorn.

The first year we got back after six in the States (where friends had given us their retired artificial tree) our stuff had not arrived (heard that it went on a ship all the way to Argentina before getting to Brasilia in March ’93), so Christmas having my mother and aunt Jinny as guests in our home for the first time in ages was celebrated with borrowed furniture and a miniscule make-do Christmas tree with tiny silver-colored red-bowed presents as decorations). It was also wedding season – Davi and Adriana were tying the knot in a splendidly beautiful ceremony December 23rd, so Christmas decorations were not top priority (Actually Christmas season weddings have become a tradition, started with Lau and me in ’66, and Dan and Márcia following Davi and Adriana’s).

In following years, I alternated between natural versus artificial trees each year, and all the natural ones we planted in rainy season January did not take root, but withered and dried. I shared the Jewish sentiment: “Next year in Jerusalem...”, and as for decorations, bought a few more each year, so our tree was getting prettier with age – but was never the bona fide, extravagantly artistic tree laden with symbols to the aroma of ginger and spices and sound of joyous carols. Oh, I loved to bake and make jelly and cookies to share with friends, so there was always a Christmassy spirit around, and cherished singing in the choir on the streets and in hospitals and malls. I admire artistic talent and would love to spend time and a little bit of money crafting and producing symbols or even tiny indications of the beauty of the season -- but have to be content with the trite and simple of my rushed last-minute decorations. Had planned to dig up a pine tree among the eucalyptii from our yonder hill, plant it in a big container and make it our centertree for this year’s festivities, but Lau informed me that it will die if we dig it up and attempt a later transplant. He suggested we confect a tree from the abundant bamboo that sprouts in our yard, but when he tried to bind together the boughs, they sagged and dropped ingloriously. So I suggested we get the bottom boughs of the Paraná pine tree – the only typically Brazilian Araucaria – and raise up our tree. Wiring together the tree (not with lights, but literal metal wires to unite the prickly boughs) was no easy task. It was as if we were putting together a puzzle of live porcupines (those pesky animals that destroyed our corn last year, and every year fill the snouts of our disobedient dogs with dozens of awful spurs that take hours to be tweezer-extracted!). But finally Lau and Daniel finished our natural tree and dug it into the sand-filled twenty-liter copper container that my Dad got in Goiás Velho over fifty years ago. Beautiful. Ruth and I hung the balls and decked the halls among the prickles (well, actually our living-dining-kitchen is not a hall, and we only decked with boughs a wooden container a pastor-friend from the Congo gave us years ago, with colored balls and wooden people and animal figurines from Africa, Asia, America (North and South). A touch of global intent for the Advent, sided by two menorahs.

But my holiday decorations have never been up to par with my feelings of joy at God’s generous – yea, extravagant Gift – of Christ who was born not on Christmas day, but one day unknown by us was born, when He entered humanity and bestowed eternity on fallen humans. Before time ever was, the Greatest Decision Ever was made in sovereign counsel by the Triune God. The Lamb of God was held by a handmaid of the Lord, and placed in a manger. Angels and shepherds and farm animals were witnesses. “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). Though my Christmas decorations will never be on par with those of my friends elsewhere, our family celebrates Christmas every day, any day, all day, even when we forget.

Yea, Lord we greet Thee, born this happy morning (or was it some other midnight clear?)

Jesus, to Thee be all glory given!

Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing:

Venite Adoremus, Oh come let us adore Thee, Ó vinde adoremos

Christ the Lord!

Elizabeth Gomes

A CHRISTIAN LOOKS AT SOME OF TODAY’S GAY AGENDA AND WEEPS

Two weeks ago we were on our way to visit a daughter church, Igreja Presbiteriana Semear, at a hotel in Brasília after three wonderful days camping with them. We were intrigued by posters and advertisements announcing a “National Conference of bisexuals, transvestites and cross-gender workers in the battle against AIDS” to be held at the same location. When we got to the elevator, a hotel attendant asked if we were heading the right direction. We went to the place where the church service was about to begin, worshipped and celebrated the Lord’s Supper with our dear friends. Right direction, incorrect timing – the unusual (for Christians, at least) meeting would occur later on. As we were leaving church we perceived a glut of excited, flamboyant, and yes, very vocal men dressed as women, women passing for men and assorted unusually gay “couples”. The aforesaid conference would begin as soon as the Christians exited.

We live in a fallen world with increasingly blatant “sexual preferences”, and I had seen a lot of homosexuality in the workplace and even among people linked to family and friends, but never so many, so showy and so noisy in one place. It was no time for an uncertain snicker or muffled laughter. I’ve been remembering those faces and expressions since that day.

Several years ago a church shepherded by a friend of ours fired their organist and music director for her unbiblical sexual activity, and she promptly sued the church for its bias – and won.  Recently Brazil’s legislators have proposed making a crime of “any expressions of homophobia”, with view to inclusion and positive distinction of gay and lesbian educators from elementary to university level. When he was Minister of Education, the newly elected governor of the State of São Paulo became known for his “gay kit”, in which school children were advised on the importance of “sexual diversity” and told to never discriminate against any boy or girl who made “different choices” from those traditionally learned in their families. The “educational material” was so blatantly biased toward homosexuality that it was rejected at the time, but new similar proposals are high on the state and national leaders’ agendas. A spokesperson who was heralded as defender of homosexuals has proposed a new definition of family which excludes “the union of a man and a woman” as a marriage and prefers the definition “consensual union of any person or persons with another (or others) of either sex”. This will have profound impact on Christians, churches and institutions.

When I worked as case manager for people with HIV in the early Nineties, 80% of my clients were gay. My goal was to reach out to people who suffered, without questioning how or why they were infected. In a non-religious institution, we were not allowed to “preach” the gospel or opine as to personal faith – but my clients knew I was a Christian and were conscious of my non-approval of their lifestyles. They also knew that I respected them as persons created by God, accepted them as friends, and yearned for them to know what reconciliation with the Lord is all about. I’d never said it in so many words, but they sensed genuine love.

One time when I was doing pre-HIV test counseling with a drug-addicted girl who had just answered, “Five minutes ago” when asked when was the last time she had injected and sold herself in order to finance her habit, all I could think was, “Once you were a beautiful, innocent (even if fallen) baby with none of your habits and hangouts. How God loves you! How Jesus invites you to enter His fellowship and be free!”

I listened as my clients told of their fears and foibles, as they asked why -- questions about life and death and disease and said I would answer some of their questions outside the workplace. They were welcome and respected, though I never condoned their lifestyle, which was much more than “risky behavior”. My husband supported me in that work, and we invited my Portuguese-speaking HIV clients into our home for supper. One thirty-three year old man asked if God could forgive and save him, and he came to our church. Lau baptized him when he bore witness of becoming a brother in Christ. After returning to Brazil, he died of AIDS as a Christian.

Back in Brazil we started Santé, an organization to support and offer assistance to people with AIDS, and initially it was perceived as primarily a ministry to homosexual people. Over the years we have met and ministered to people from all walks of life, many of which have made depraved choices in their personal lives. One such person asks: “Can God accept someone who has lived like me?” – we ask back: “Can God accept a repentant thief, a repentant adulterer, a repentant murderer? The writer to Corinthians said: “the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God. Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God... that is what some of you were. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God” ( I Corinthians 6:9-11). Any kind of sexual immorality, idolatry, adultery, prostitution, homosexual acts, thievery and swindling – forfeits God’s kingdom! But we are saved by grace through faith – not by our works. People who think living with a boyfriend without marrying is okay, or idolize rock singers, sports stars and hundreds of other idols, or are consummate deceivers and tellers of lies are just as guilty as those who partake of homosexual acts. God does not make a list of   “less sinful” or “more sinful” behaviors – even our non-consumed sinful thoughts are sin (Matthew 5:28). Actually, our condition as sinners is not so much from what we do (though we end up doing what is contrary to God’s Word) as what we are – totally depraved, and, when without Christ, totally lost (Romans 3:23; 26). Before a just and righteous God, heterosexual promiscuity is as serious an offense as homosexual marriage!

Speaking of which, many of my friends in the USA live in states that approve gay marriage. That does not mean you have to condone it or, if a pastor, perform such a wedding ceremony! To begin, homosexuals are not gay in the classic definition of “happy, fun-loving and full of joy”. Same-sex attraction most surely entails much anguish and uncertainty – even when “coming out” of the closet is accepted or condoned by society. A dear person close to our family decided to “embrace” homosexuality – he did so with more than a sense of damnation and despair and is too enmeshed to believe Jesus can set him free. Another person, a girl, decided to “marry” her female lover – and discovered that it is a howlingly empty “marriage” and the lover loves only her own self and selfish desires. They have tried and tried again – like the Samaritan woman who had five marriages and was presently living with someone else’s spouse (John 4). Jesus – only Jesus can do so – offered her living water that quenches eternal thirst.

We have seen several cases of people in Christian leadership who end their ministry by embracing “gay rights” for themselves. Like any ministry shipwrecked by sinful behavior, the only solution is REPENT and RETURN to the Lord (Isaiah 55:7 NKJ: “Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the LORD, and He will have mercy on him; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon”! What a breathtaking promise! Someone said “you Christians are always talking about sin – how dreary!” But admission of sin implies the possibility of redemption – you can’t be saved if you don’t have anything from which to be redeemed!

The subject is vast and full of serious questions, but in a nutshell, I would affirm:

1.       The Bible, from Old through all the New Testament, condemns homosexual activity, as it does many other sins (Romans 1:18-32);

2.       Our Christian ethic includes both loathing of sin and love of sinner – this balance is exemplified by the only perfect God-Man, and should extend beyond what society or culture or status propose;

3.       People who demonstrate prejudice and discrimination against any who are or are perceived as different from themselves – must repent of lack of compassion such as Jesus showed to the woman caught in adultery.

4.       People who are engaged or enticed by any form of sin, whether “unacceptable” or socially “accepted”, must repent, return and convert their hearts to the Lord.

5.       There is NONE Righteous. All our self-righteousness is like dirty rags!

6.       There is NOBODY who can not be saved if called by the Lord Jesus.

If  your heart is disturbed by this blog, turn to the God of Comfort; put on the righteousness of Jesus and don’t live for yourself – above all, don’t die because of what you call bad choices and God calls sin – die to your selfish self and live unto the Lord!

Beth Gomes

INCONVENIENT HOSPITALITY

 

When we were planning to go to the States for my husband to pursue graduate work, a young pastor and his wife offered to host us in their home until we found a place of our own. What we thought would be a couple of weeks in John and Nina Yenchko’s home ended up being more than two full months, and besides our youngest son (at that time aged twelve) being with us from the beginning, our eldest and a friend (college students) joined us all for the last month and they were invited to stay until our living arrangements were settled.

I shall never forget their generous hospitality, taking them out of their newly married comfort zone into the boisterous presence of a “foreign” family of early forties and teens. After we moved, among several jobs tackled, I worked at a public library, where I enjoyed access to many good books and a very low income. However, the Lord provided us with half a mansion, which we shared with another pastor and graduate student and his family (of two small kids and a wife who worked full-time as a nurse – Canadians).

Many times our friends from Brazil came along on their way to other tourist spots, and more often than not, we had a full house and an almost empty larder.  I had grown up as a missionary kid in Brazil. Since our marriage, I had been welcomed into my in-laws’ home and learned many lessons of hospitality with them, as well as in the homes of people all over Brazil who hosted us when Lau was guest preacher, or we were the visiting missionaries at a church. At the seminary where we went to school, hospitality was taught and practiced. When still single, I remember a Terena Indian pastor and his wife hosting the visiting Bible school students – putting us five girls to rest in their only double bed (they resorted to hammocks), while the men slept on the thatched roof church benches. Generous, inconvenient hospitality!

Once, when Lau and I traveled with our then five and two-year old children throughout the USA on our first evangelistic trip in which he preached in twenty-two states, the people who were supposed to put us up for the weekend had an emergency, and resorted to their parents to host us. I will never forget the white-haired, aged lady with a heavy German accent saying to the twenty-something couple and their two rambunctious kids, “Welcome in the name of the Lord Jesus!” They took us in as if we were angels (which we definitely were not) and when we prepared to leave for the next location, sent us off with bags full of sandwiches, fruit, juice and cookies to “tide us off” until we got to the next destination. I had worried about our being in the home of a couple of people well over seventy, but they showed us what it means to feel welcome in Jesus’ name.

I enjoyed entertaining – throwing a Christmas party or shower for a friend, having a professor over for dinner or a prominent preacher in our home for the church’s weekend conference, but was less enthusiastic when a couple who was in town for medical treatment and had nowhere else to go was stationed in our home for several weeks. Sometimes I am a slow learner, despite having been on the receiving end many times – and the Lord had to teach me the difference between entertaining and being biblically hospitable, not when it is convenient to us, but when and wherever the need arises.

One of the ways he taught us was through irony. We were called upon to offer hospitality – actually, to entertain – some VIP’s from Brazil. Not our ordinary pastoral or missionary fare, but a State governor and several representatives from Brazil’s states of Goiás and Tocantins and the Federal District. When our friends Marcos and Beth called us and said they were bringing the “comitiva” over to get to know an authentic American-Brazilian home, I was flattered – and my stomach fluttered at the perspective. I rallied several friends in the church and neighborhood, to loan me proper dishes, silverware and glasses, and prepared my best recipes, proudly telling my friends that we were hosting so and so. Everything was perfect – except this imperfect hostess.

Half an hour after the expected time, our friends called and said they were running late, and the Governor and his entourage had apologized saying they had decided to go to Atlantic City instead, and it would be just our old friends Marcos and Beth – whom we had entertained, as they had hosted us, zillions of times with anything from popcorn to mortadela sandwiches and lemonade or roast pork and gnocchi.

When Paul instructed Timothy about who and how to care for widows, some of the attributes listed were being “well known for her good deeds, such as bringing up children, showing hospitality, washing the feet of the saints, helping those in trouble and devoting herself to all kinds of good deeds” (1 Tim 5.10). Peter sandwiches hospitality between loving love each other deeply, “because love covers over a multitude of sins.  Offer hospitality to one another” and adds an interesting thought: “ without grumbling” – he admonishes to use our gifs in service toward others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms”, and adding, “If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 2:8-11). Whether preaching or serving, our goal is God’s praise – not that of host or hostess!

How do we practice biblical hospitality in the twenty-first century? With the solicitousness of Martha and the personal interest of Mary of Bethany. With the generosity of the woman who broke her alabaster box and the strength to serve of Peter’s mother in law after being healed by Jesus. We may not be as cunning as Rahab (I doubt that you will be called upon to hide your guests on the rooftop under piles of flax!) but we can glean from the Source of wisdom for every situation. Our homes can be warm, caring places that show God’s love to the stranger as well as to those we love. We will exercise and develop patience while practicing hospitality. The writer of Hebrews reminds us, “Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it “(Heb. 13:2). Some day we will be permanent guests in God’s eternity. That will be quite a party -- bustling, joyful and eternal home!

Elizabeth Gomes

TALKING ABOUT WATER TO THIRSTY WOMEN

 

Several years ago, a friend invited me to speak at a women’s meeting in her home in Brasília. She had met several embassy wives from various Islamic countries, and had befriended them by sharing recipes and special Brazilian dishes – and they had reciprocated by sharing their favorite sweets and stories. Celina was not a Bible teacher and was not known as a proficient evangelist, but she loved Jesus and loved people who did not know him, so she decided to offer her new friends “Tea and Friendship” with a word of wisdom. 

When I arrived at her apartment, about thirty women were crowded into her living room, chattering in five or six different languages. Many of the women had brought “treats” to share from their national cuisines. Their beautiful, volumous clothes, some complete with headdresses (from India, Nigeria, Pakistan, Turkey, Saudi Arabia and Lebanon) contrasted with the lighter, “less clothed” dresses and slacks of the five or six Brazilian Christians who had joined us. (These Christian friends had been praying, along with Celina, for over a month – for this particular meeting – and I was touched by their dedication and the awesome responsibility ahead of us.)

Celina introduced me as her friend who would try to speak to them in Portuguese and English, since she knew several had not yet learned the Brazilian language and were proficient in English (which she unfortunately had not learned, she deplored). I had previously prepared a three-point Bible study for sophisticated seekers, but my mind immediately recalculated, and I thought: WATER, and began to talk about how there was one thing every person, from every nation and every situation, whatever their religion or political bent, cannot live without – water. Some of the ladies had already asked for a glass of water when they first arrived – Brasília is so dry in the rain-less season that the humidity is similar to that of the Sahara dessert. Though fruit juice and soda (plus the advertised tea) were available, most people had chosen to drink cool, fresh water. And I said, “Celina asked me to explain something about us that is neither Brazilian nor American, African or Indian.

It is a story of a Jewish teacher, a rabbi, and a woman from a national group despised by traditional Jews – a Samaritan. Besides Samaritans and Jews being secular enemies, she was also a woman despised by her confused marital situation. She had plenty of husbands – five, to be exact – and a lover, and no love, no lasting relationship. Like many of us she had faced her share of prejudice – maybe she also deeply pre-judged anyone who was not like she was. And this teacher, this wise man, was talking to her – though holy men were supposed to ignore women, especially women like her, who had to get water when nobody else was around and did her everyday activities with constant fear and shame. He asked her for something she had – a glass of water!

After she protested Jesus’ request, he piqued her interest by saying that the water from Jacob’s well would satisfy very briefly, but he had living water that quenched eternal thirst. I continued to narrate the story of the Samaritan woman alternating English and Portuguese, and for many, it was the first time they had heard of Jesus as a person instead of “one of the three great religions in the world”.  A couple said that despite their husbands’ great generosity, they had already been warned against any religious talk with Brazilian women, who were beautiful, generous and harbored dangerous ideas. Some of the women asked to come back to Celina’s home to hear more another time. One lady invited us to “hear the wisdom of Allah at a women’s meeting at their mosque”. I was reminded of Jeremiah’s words about God’s people having committed two sins: “they have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water” (Jer 2:13). And prayed, “Fill my cup, Lord...”

Elizabeth Gomes