trains

My father was a “lifer” on the railroad along with all four of his brothers, so as a child I learned the love and the language of trains and the systems within which they run. I knew the schedules, the sounds and smells and could identify the rail system of any engine or caboose by its colors and insignia.
When our family would plan a vacation, old-fashion steam trains were high on the priority list of things to do. On several memorial occasions we rode behind those smoke belching monsters on short excursions through the countryside. The boys were absolutely at the height of excitement …what could be more fun than a real steam train….the girls were busy brushing the cinders off their dresses wondering if something was going to explode or catch fire.
I remember vividly the sense of awe I felt standing beside the locomotives looking at the enormous steel drive wheels. A little smug in my superior knowledge, I would ask my younger siblings to show me the “ the force that drives this train”, and they would almost always point to those massive wheels. But even as a child I knew better. Inside the cab were the doors to the firebox and the enormous boilers, ……..I had watched as the coal was shoveled into the fire box, and heard the explosive release of steam pressure through relief valves. That big engine could pull the train only because of the fire in its belly.
The prayer offerings of the faithful …, this is the fire that empowers the church and the real source of its effectiveness. The visible machinery of program and public events are only “ministry” in the actual sense of the word if covered and empowered by prayer. Like my young siblings , distracted by impressive machinery, many people will never see or understand what really drives the church.

suited to sail

Some time ago, in order to help another missionary with some government papers, we bumped and rattled several hours north to the coastal city of Cap Haitian. Our business took us to the docks and from a second story vantage point we could see most of the harbor. Looking beyond the calm harbor to the ocean inlet we saw in place of the usually tranquil ocean, angry black swells of ten feet tipped with white caps. A brisk north wind was causing the docked boats within the harbor to tug at their moorings as if impatient to be off on their next voyage.
Because the wheels of bureaucracy grind slowly in Haiti, there was plenty of time to review the scene before us, …. the wait for our papers stretched to nearly six hours. In the entire morning not one boat moved into or out of the inlet, in fact only a dredge and its busy little tender changed positions as we watched. This lack of activity in a usually busy harbor was not really a mystery because the boats tied to the docks were obviously too small or too broken down do brave the menacing swells just outside the inlet. And so they waited at anchor….. balky wooden sailboats used to carry cargo from city to city along the coast, rusty steel freighters, slim pleasure craft. Certainly they were safe from the threatening ocean but quite useless that day as far as any work was concerned.
Often when we pray for a visitation from God on our complacent churches and uncommitted believers, our petitions might lead a listener to believe that somehow God is not keeping up His end of the bargain. Perhaps we ought instead to check our “seaworthiness” as instruments of evangelism and missional activity. Many of our “harbors” appear to be occupied by the saved and safe who lack the desire or the spiritual understanding to evangelize.
I once saw a beautiful poster of a quiet harbor scene under which were written the words, “A ship in the harbor is safe, …but that’s not what ships were made for”
Or as Paul asks so pointedly ( in beautiful Shakespearian English), “How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard; and how shall they hear without a preacher?”