An Act of God

Today was one of my proudest days as the Pastor of Mount Republic Chapel of Peace.  It is Sunday, and although I was present in church this morning, it was not I who preached.  Two weeks ago when I was in Atlanta for the annual Society of Biblical Literature conference I had a man in church, Jeff, scheduled to preach for me.  Coincidentally, that Sunday happened to be day four of a five day power outage up here and getting to church that morning was the least of the peoples' worries; so for the first time ever, church here was cancelled.  Jeff saw that power outage as an act of God.  After this morning, I'm beginning to think it was. 

Jeff is not your typical pulpit supply.  He is not an elder in the church, nor does he lead a small group or Bible study.  He is not a natural public speaker.  He has never been to Bible college or seminary.  He hasn't really even been to high school.  What he has done is lived his entire life in Cooke City, Montana, up on Colter Pass, the part of the road/mountain that is "snowmobile traffic only" from mid-November until mid-May each year.  He made it through his 9th grade education, barely, and about thirty days of his 10th grade education.  He started driving 3-hours to the city for booze when he was 14 years old, and from about that time until about ten years ago, not a day went by when he did not have either a narcotic or alcohol in him, and usually both.  He's been in bar fights, gun fights, bear attacks, and every other kind of battle you can imagine.  Wives have come and gone, friends have come and gone, and by the grace of God, the life he once lived has come and gone.

Today, Jeff is a new man.  Miraculously, he has brain cells left and in abundant supply.  In the last 10 years he has gone through his final divorce, started believing in God, started believing in Christ, found freedom from all addictions, dedicated his life to the Lord, been baptised, gotten married to a wonderful Christian woman, started playing guitar on Sunday mornings, and started feeding on the Scriptures like a bear just out of hibernation.  Other than his physical form, he truly is unrecognizable from the person he was the first forty years of his life.  And that makes him stand out in a town of 70 people. 

Church was cancelled two weeks ago, and I'm glad it was.  I challenged Jeff to preach today nonetheless and with some prodding, like a child being asked to jump into the deep end for the first time without a life jacket, he finally agreed to take the plunge.  Sitting in the chair and watching him at the pulpit, I felt like that parent standing on the edge of the pool just praying that the child makes it to the edge and then ecstatic inside when he finally does.  Proud to the point of tears.

Jeff spoke for about fifteen minutes on a topic he's learned about for the first time this winter at Bible study: the first Adam and last Adam.  Using Genesis 1:27 and 1 Corinthians 15:45 as his base texts, he did a great job of explaining how everyone serves someone and everyone is either clothed in the first Adam or the second Adam.  No one in this town knows the metaphysical reality of these two Adams more than Jeff.  He lives it on a daily basis.  Not one foot in each camp, as many here do, but wholly submerged in the new Adam, clothed in righteousness and obedience, looking on at those who have yet to discover this reality.

Why am I proud?  I don't know.  I shouldn't be.  It's not as if God has brought him to this point in the last year, while I've been here.  But in a way, God has.  One year ago, Jeff was not ready to preach or teach.  He had great faith, but his knowledge of the bible was still relatively limited and he was not ready to lead like he did today.  If there is anything that I can say about why God has had me here this last year, I can say, with confidence, it has been to teach, challenge, encourage, and guide Jeff to the place he is in his faith, his love for God and his knowledge of the Bible.  God has done it through me, I know.  But I was there nonetheless.

I love baptisms.  I weep at them.  I wasn't here to witness Jeff's baptism five years ago, but this morning as I sat in that chair and watched him rub his hands together, shift from side to side, put his glasses on, take his glasses off, accidentally swallow his gum, rock back and forth, lose his place in his notes and all the while tell the congregation why it was so important for them to understand how true these verses are, I felt like I was watching a brother in Christ rise into life from the life he's left behind, just as he did at his baptism.  I think the power outage was an act of God.  But rather than being for Jeff's sake, it was for mine.

Jeff is a fabulous musician.  In his former life he spent his nights on the road and playing in bars.  Now he plays in church and certain nights at the bar in Cooke City where everyone knows how he lives his life.