So, You Wanna Go Back to Egypt?

 So, I just finished reading, "No Compromise." (A must read for those, like myself, whose lives have been influenced by Keith Green.) Written by his widow, Melody Green

I have loved Keith's music since I first discovered him in my teen years. The first song of his I remember hearing on the radio was, "Until Your Love Broke Through." They would play it on a late night Gospel music program I listened to. (Likely the Moody channel.)

I can't remember how, but I wound up with a mail-in form for a free copy of the album, "So, You Wanna Go Back to Egypt" (Is that a statement or a question?) Amazingly, the flyer said that I could have a copy mailed to me for free and I wouldn't even be solicited for donations. I mailed my order post haste! Sometime thereafter, I received my very own copy of this marvelous LP  in the mail.

Not only was the album great, but it included a booklet with spiritual lessons and little cartoon-like drawings directly pertaining to the songs on the album. One even included a caricature of Keith, asleep in front of his TV, for "Asleep in the Light."

This record swiftly became my favorite album. So many of the songs spoke so deeply to me about my relationship with my Savior and I eventually learned them all by heart. I fairly ran the needle through the vinyl. 

Years afterward, I bought the CD and it contained the same, best as I could tell, booklet inside. (Maybe some updates?) Yes, my album had long been gone with the wind. Too many moves; too many...moves.

Until recently, I didn't understand the cost to Keith, et al., in producing this marvelous album. As a teen I didn't understand and as an adult I just never considered. Sad, but true.

One day, a few months back, I was at work, listening to some Keith music through my cell phone speaker, when a lady walking past me suddenly stopped, backed up and asked if it was actually Keith I was listening to. I smiled and replied it was. We then had a short, but pleasant conversation about how we loved his music and what an influence on us as Christians he had been.

She inquired if I had read, "No Compromise." I replied I had not. She said that I really should. I said I would.

After finally completing this very interesting biography, I felt I knew Keith a little better. Even though I had seen at least one documentary on him, the book gave deeper and more lasting insight into the man, himself.

I have a couple or more takeaways from the book:

Keith was much as I imagined him. With a burning fire shut up in his bones. He did love Jesus and sinners. He was a real type A and tried to be the man who totally committed his life to Christ and the salvation of souls. He often struggled with his commitment and remembering to love his fellow Christians despite their commonly shared frailties. Though it sounds cliche, he was a comet! Burning bright for a moment across the sky.

I'll never forget hearing about his death. I had a cheap little transistor radio I kept in my barracks at Ft. Campbell and I was in the habit of listening to Paul Harvey during my chow time. He told that Kithe had died, along with two of his children, in the crash of a small plane. Only those details. I don't remember anything else. There was more news for Paul to cover.

Incidentally, it was years later before I understood who his children were and that his only son died with him. I also learned that an entire family of seven died with them. Horrible!

As years passed, I collected more of Keith's music, becoming thoroughly addicted to it. His music ranged from convicting to uplifting. He was always trying to teach me something. I only wish I had listened more.

I've often prayed and wondered why God would take Keith out of this world so soon. Not to mention his children and friends. I mean, he had so much potential and got so much right. I listen to hundred year old gas-bags on television who don't know the first thing about God and are dedicated only to money and themselves. Keith was sold out to God! His songs stay in my head like spiritual ear-worms. Prodding me toward righteousness. (Oh, how I have kicked against the "pricks"!

His words were personal. As someone said, "honest." They spoke to my own personal situation, trials and attitudes. In ways that much of traditional music, not all, doesn't. I often felt like he had been peeking through my window. And I was busted! Yikes! (Importantly, Melody wrote some of his best songs.)

So, why him? Why are so many out there lying and seeking to steal, kill and destroy when this young man was a sincere seeker of the truth?

I know that people of all ages die and there's often no seeming reason or rhyme. We just die. God makes the sun and the rain fall on the just and the unjust. I know all of that. But why Keith? 

I've often wondered, why am I still here? (Another blog, perhaps?)

There are no satisfactory answers to such questions. Hopefully, we learn through such tragedies to trust God. (Isn't it all about trust?) There is no other way to learn to do so. Keith even believed he should be ever ready, along with his family, to face death at any time. He most definitely pledged his head to Heaven!

In reading, I learned some very interesting facts about Keith that speak to this question. He was a child of the hippie culture. He squeaked by the draft. He was too young and they ended it before he came of age. Joining the military seemed to be something he had no interest in doing. He was only interested in his music career.

Being the California hippie that he was, frankly, he did do a lot of drugs. A lot of drugs. I mean a lot of drugs! How many people have overdosed or been at the wrong place at the wrong time and they didn't survive their poor choices? He, like the silly of his generation, was often looking for God and enlightenment through mind-altering drugs. Doesn't really seem like any of them found Him that way. Imagine that!

He spent time with many people in ways that he was to young, ignorant and "hip" to recognize as potentially very dangerous. This lifestyle brought many to an early demise. Gladly, not Keith.

This thinking brought me to the realization that we actually had Keith longer than we should have. By all rights, he should've been dead even before he found the Lord. I'm sure he often thought that God brought him out the other end for a purpose. (My father believed he was spared numerous near deaths during the war for a reason.) So many don't survive. I'm glad Keith did.

I also decided that Keith was, for some time at least, three steps away from being a cult leader. He was handsome, charismatic, talented, amiable, loquacious and brilliant. He even spent some time in the canyons of the California desert in, what amounted to, communes. Yes, they were Christians, but it was definitely strongly influenced, again, by the hippie culture of the late sixties and early seventies. (Much of this was happening when Manson was living with his "family" at Spahn Ranch in California.

Even when he gave his life to the Lord, he never unlearned many of the hippie habits he had developed. It was not uncommon for he and wife Melody to hitchhike to places or pick up hitchhikers spending the entire time talking about Jesus. (Bob Dylan, during his Christian "phase" would often do the latter.)

He took in many troubled teens, derelicts off the street, addicts, pregnant, husbandless women and more. Musician friends, et al., would stay all night making music and talking about God finally crashing on the floor or couch. He even had to rent/purchase homes to make room for those he and his wife took in to keep.

So much of that could've gone wrong. So many opportunities for sin and tragedy. Thankfully, his sincere dedication to his Savior kept the peace.

Which leads me to another observation: Keith was very involved in various ministries. He worked closely with several youth ministries and even experienced one interesting and, to me, befuddling episode at Oral Roberts University. Also, he and others set up what amounted to food pantries for Mexicans and he invested much time and money into a hospital ship operated by a missionary friend to help spread the Gospel around the world. He not only worked relentlessly in his own ministry, but with others he gave his time, energy and money.

There was a passing mention of a couple of local congregations with which he worked. Though he sung at many churches, most everything he did was with these independent ministries that functioned, so to speak, extra-congregational.

As I read, I would reflect about the many "ministries" I am familiar with who act independently. Seeking to save the world. I think to myself, "What if they worked through a local congregation?" Sadly, none of them would want to be saddled with such a, to their mind, hindrance. 

I recall the words of one wise man, or, at least a man who was once wise, or wise once, who said, tongue-in-cheek, "I'm going to start my own church with my own sound doctrine." Sadly, many have.

Had Keith survived into his, now, seventies, would we be dealing with, I don't know, "Greenites"? (We might yet.) Would he have started a college that they would've named after him? Would he have followed the path he planned that lead to international organization? Would that path had lead him away from his first love? Would it have been the ruination of him? Even Keith?

I was taken aback when Keith's ordination was mentioned in passing. While no one could question the man's brilliance and dedication and, yes, he put much living into his two and a half decades, but, honestly, he wasn't much more than a novice himself. He needed pastoring!

Keith spent much time seeking a father. His parents were Jewish heritage, but practicing "Christian Science." I don't know if they ever understood or accepted the Gospel. His "Song to My Parents" is his plea for them to truly turn to Christ. 

He had some men in his life, at least one his age, who were his mentors. Godly men who wanted to see him do what God wanted. He was fortunate for that. But their view of the Church, the Bride of Christ, was subject to the Zeit Geist of today's mal-informed Christianity. In other words, whatever you do, of your own free will and accord, is the "church." They could not see the value of God's local congregation. I suppose their dreams were, er, bigger than that?

So, they, like Keith, started their own ministries and worked tirelessly to feed and clothe the hungry, house the homeless and win the lost to Christ. Alas, as with all "personal ministries," eventually, it becomes less about the ministry and more about the minister.

Yet, through it all, he loved his Savior. He wanted to please Him in spite of his frailties. I believe that God blesses those who sincerely try to please Him, even though they may err in their way. (Me being case in point.)

In the final analysis, God used this young man and young Christian to spread the Gospel and inspire young, foolish Christians, like myself, to greater heights of glory and more personal dedication to Him. (Again, I only wish I had listened better.)

On a personal note, Keith probably would've had some strong words concerning my lifelong inconsistencies regarding my commitment to our Savior. 

But I think he would've liked my questions! 

So, You Wanna Go Back to Egypt?

After God freed the Children of Israel from the slavery of Egypt, they left bondage behind, taking with them the spoils of war as if they were the ones who had conquered their former masters. They sojourned in the wilderness, received the Ten Commandments and the Law of Moses, were fed manna from Heaven and water from a rock.

Yet, in spite of the Providence of the Great I Am, they incessantly whined and complained against Moses and Aaron and longed for the days of captivity. They railed against God over and over, grumbling and asking if there were no graves in Egypt for them.

Sheesh!

So, if you've read your Bible at all or maybe even just watched "The Ten Commandments," you know that God cursed them to walk for forty years just across the Jordan River, within sight of the Promised Land. He decreed that only those who were under forty years of age, save Joshua and Caleb, would ever stroll through this renowned land of "milk and honey."

Now, you might ask yourself why this great and powerful, merciful and loving God would do this to the former slaves of Egypt? Well, the constant rebellion and stubbornness is the obvious short answer. Still, there is a little more to this story than what might be so apparent.

Have you ever sat in a Baptist church, (not only us Baptists, though,) and listened to the old farts shooting down any particular idea that came along just simply because it was new? Oh, no, most would not be so bold as to declare their feelings and prejudice honestly and openly, but if you could see into their heart, you'd know that's exactly and only why they are against it...whatever "it" may be.

"That's not the way our last pastor did it."

"That's not the way grandma and grandpa did it."

"That's not the way mom and dad did it."

"Why do we have to sing those new songs? Why can't we sing something we know?"

"We've always did our order of service this way. Why change now?"

"The deacons have always taken care of that."

"The trustees have always taken care of that."

"I've always sat in this seat."

And the beat goes on and on and on and on!

What are they really saying? They're saying,  "That's not the way we did it back in Egypt!"

We all remember the great Jerry Clowers quote: "A rut is just a ditch with the ends knocked out." We are so very comfortable in our bondage. It is what we are familiar with and the thought of changing the familiar is terrifying to us.

It begins when we are children. We won't to play the same game and watch the same video and sing the same song over and over again. Hypocritically, it makes us adults crazy, but we have retained that childish love for the familiar. Even in our congregations. We want to walk through the door and know exactly what will happen on any given Sunday. We don't like deviation or messing with the status quo. We don't like change!

God, Who knows past, present and future, looking down upon this mutinous host, saw that, sadly, sometimes the only way to move a nation forward is to get rid of the dead weight. It was a sure thing that if the youth of Israel grew up with the negativity and defeatism of their parents and grandparents ringing in their ears, they would do no more than repeat the same process in a vicious circle that must be broken and broken only as God can do.

With each new generation, God gives opportunity for a congregation to be, if you will, born again. Now, I'm not talking about a different Gospel here, I'm merely saying, look at things from a different angle and, perhaps, try a different approach. Accept the fact that different people have different tastes and agree to disagree. As I look around our congregations and see the pride and selfishness that people exhibit. Even those who are of the opinion that they are trying to do right, They clutch with a death grip the things of the past that are dead and gone and stink. Regrettably, it usually is the old who have become so comfortable in their pews that nothing less than their own funeral would move them.

Yes, I miss my parents too! One day, I'll make that final move and see them again. But I can't keep them alive by quenching the Spirit of God. He wants to take us places that we can't even imagine. He wants to take us places where we will have not choice, but to trust in Him.

Are you ready to cross the Jordan to a new land blessed by God? Are you ready for God's great adventure?


Exodus 14:11

And they said unto Moses, Because there were no graves in Egypt, hast thou taken us away to die in the wilderness? wherefore hast thou dealt thus with us, to carry us forth out of Egypt?

"Not So Loud"

I hope the wrong person doesn't ever see this. I suppose that's extremely unlikely.

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So, the kids at my church, early teens, were sitting in the sanctuary, practicing a fun song that, I thought, had a great message in it. (It was for VBS, as I recall.) At the end of one rendition, some of the girls cried out, and one in particular, with her hands above head, "Whoo! We did great!"

One of our deacons, whom, I doubt not, is a good man, was sitting across the isle from the kids. I suppose, at that point, he felt he had to prove he is an old fart. He must’ve because he looked at the girl and said, “Not so loud.” Sheesh!

Among the many things that adults screw up is that we teach our children to march and sing, "I'm in the Lord's Army!" We think that's alright. Then, when they get a little older, we try to turn them into the dried up cheese wedges that our parents turned us into.

We think everybody's supposed to be so quiet, calm and, dare I say, cold in God's house. We fear praise and worship and don't want our little, nice redundant services interrupted by some child being "silly' and making any joyful noise in the House of God.

We wonder, though we shouldn't have to, why our congregations are waning in both number and spirit. When any one among us tries to cry to God in joy or pain, the rest of us "sticks-in-the-mud" do our best to shut them down. It seems to bother us when we see genuine joy in someone else. Joy we wish we had.

I don't want to be too hard on this deacon. As I've said, I believe him to be a good guy. I'm sure he never gave a second thought to the repercussions of his actions. Of course, part of the problem is, we don't think, we just do.

Mark 10:47. And when he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out, and say, Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me.
48. And many charged him that he should hold his peace: but he cried the more a great deal, Thou son of David, have mercy on me.