A New Approach to Church Fundraising

Copyright 2002 Thom Tapp and Christianity Today International. Used with permission.

Spiritually Deaf

"Jonah" "Jonah?" "Jonah!"

They say things come in threes. It seems to be the case in our home. After Abigail's knee injury and Caleb's appendicitis, we sort of expected that something would happen to Jonah. We never expected him to go deaf, though. He mentioned to his teacher that he couldn't hear another student giving her book report. Mrs. Diehl sent him to see the school nurse where he subsequently flunked his hearing test.

The good news is the condition is only temporary. Our family physician looked him over and said "His ears are full of fluid. It makes his eardrums really tight, so he can't hear." Apparently when our ears are full, it renders us deaf.

I've been spiritually deaf before.

My ears have been so full of noise that I couldn't hear God. Sometimes it is the praise of people that keeps me from hearing the God who refuses to shout over my pride. Sometimes my own self-pity drowns out God's soothing sound. Other times it is the din of sin. Still others it is Wall Street-esque busyness that pushes God aside so I can't hear Him. I even call this busyness "ministry" at times to justify the cacophony, but it is godless nonetheless.

Sometimes the louder-than-God voice I hear in my ears is my own. Barbara Brown Taylor writes,

Sometimes I think we do all the talking because we are afraid God won't. Or, conversely, that God will. Either way, staying preoccupied with our own world seems a safer bet than opening ourselves up either to God's silence or God's speech, both of which have the power to undo us.

The solution is to get rid of the noise. For Jonah, that requires a round of antibiotics. The drugs, it is hoped, will kill whatever is causing the inflammation and drainage. If that doesn't work, he may have to have a "myringotomy." That's where small "tubes" are placed in his ears to depressurize them.

I wonder if there is a spiritual equivalent to a myringotomy? Something to clear the clutter from my soul. I suspect there is. I fear it is called "silence."

Learning from Claire

By now you would think that I would have learned that you can't paint with such a broad brush. I mean, I have frequently cautioned my children against succumbing to the stereotypical mish-mash that seems to be the norm. The truth, however, is that I find myself far too vulnerable to generalizations in people.

That is why I am so grateful for Claire. Claire is the French exchange student who has put her feet under our dinner table and otherwise shared our lives for the past several weeks. She is, in every way, a delight.

Before Claire, I admit that I often bought into the anti-French sentiment that I have been fed my the media (conservative and liberal), our government, and the red-neck horde who advocate renaming French fries "freedom fries." While not exactly vocal about it, I nevertheless held some pretty patronizing views where our transatlantic brethren are concerned.

Claire changed all that. She is one of the finest young people I've had the pleasure to meet. She is down to earth, kind, and considerate in every way. She likes to sleep late, eat chocolate, watch movies, and complains about school being boring. She loves our dogs, teases our youngest son, and shares clothes with our daughter. When I pass gas, she says in her lilting French accent, "You're disgusting! You are a pig!" In short, she is one of us, or more accurately put, one of our own.

I realized how thoroughly she has captured my heart when she came home from school the other day and mentioned that her "history" teacher suggested that she should be grateful that "we," meaning the United States, "bailed your butt out" during World War II. I bristled as she recounted what happened.

I suggested to Claire that the next time Mr. Moron makes such a remark she might want to remind him that there wouldn't be a United States had not the French come to our aid during our War of Independence. Perhaps she might ask this golf coach they hired to teach history why he thinks we have a city in our own state named Lafayette? Maybe he could explain to her from his vast knowledge of Americana the contribution that General Rochambeau and his 60,000 French troops made at the deciding Battle of Yorktown. While he's at it, he might want to show her a photo of the French-gifted, majestic, green-hued lady that welcomes the "tired, poor, huddled masses" to New York harbor. Then, after he's done all of that, he can talk about our contributions to the French cause, indeed the world-wide cause, that Lady Liberty symbolizes.

But listen to me go on. Six months ago, I wouldn't have given a second thought to such an insensitive remark. Why the change? Claire.

She reminded me that good people are everywhere, if I slow down long enough to look for them. She has wound her way into our world. And, she has given me hope that maybe our two nations and indeed all the world can get past our pigeonhole prejudices if we care enough to confront them one Claire at a time. Frankly speaking, if France is turning out kids like Claire, then our Gallic cousins must be doing something right.

Trade Peyton Manning?!

My buddy Sam suggested on his blog that the Colts deal Peyton Manning. Check it out by clicking here.

Filing Long Form???

Living Roadmaps

Becky phoned last night to ask if I could drive her school bus route this morning. Seems the flu bug caught up with her. I left the house at 6:00 AM and headed out to pick up her students. Since it was still dark (as you would expect at "oh-dark-thirty" in the morning), I had trouble reading the map she left me. I struggled for about two stops, trying to turn the overhead light on while I inched my way down County Road 68. But then I picked up Jessica.

Seeing I was having a tough time, Jessica volunteered to help. I put down the map and began following the instructions of this five-foot-nothing "living roadmap." She did a great job and soon we were at school.

A guide is always better than a guidebook, don't you think?

Davis Out at IU

ESPN reported Mike Davis' resignation at a Thursday afternoon news conference. You've got to feel bad for the guy. He had impossibly large shoes to fill. And, in spite of a predisposition to whining, Davis is a pretty classy guy, a devoted family man, and a strong Christian. He'll bounce back. Hopefully, so will IU.

Between Seasons

We come now to the most depressing time of the year: the annual post-Superbowl, pre-baseball season sports drought. Oh, IU basketball used to hold some excitement for me. Even if you didn’t like Bob Knight (I did, mostly), it was still fun to turn on the telly and see if he was going to blow a jugular and fling a chair at the ref. The current Hoosier’s coach doesn’t yell. He whines. Say what you want about Bobby, but The General does more winning than whining, and I’d rather see him explode beside the court than watch the cream and crimson implode on the court - something they do far too frequently these days.

I suppose I could watch hockey. I’ve tried, really I have. As a hockey nut, my buddy Fred avoids this "seasonal slump." So freakish is his devotion that his picture was in The Detroit News kissing the Stanley Cup - a trophy that he claims is the most beautiful in all of sport. He even named his daughter, Yzabella, after the Detroit Red Wings team captain. Hockey fanatics (the abbreviation "fan" doesn’t suffice) are scary. They chuck octopusses on the floor - I mean ice - when their team wins, and they throw beer-soaked, sweat-stained hats at anyone who scores three goals; two practices that lack a certain . . . civility. And this coming from a football fan. The only reason I ever watched hockey was for the fights, and the networks started cutting away during the brawls. Where’s the fun in that.

This year, we have the Winter Olympics. I could get into that, especially if they brought back Tonya Harding and her billy-club wielding no-necked boyfriend. But, I’m guessing she couldn’t afford the flight to Torino. "Neck-car" revved up last week, but I refuse to define as "sport" something that the rest of us can do while talking on our cell phone, or eating a taco, or putting on our make-up - albeit more slowly.

All of this means that I am stuck between seasons, living life in the dull alphabet-soup sports world between the NFL and MLB.

It’s not just sports that are affected by the doldrums. Spiritually speaking, I’ve been there, too. The doldrums are what ancient mariners named the sea near the equator where the winds are calm and the heat stifling. Spiritually, the doldrums are "a spell of listlessness or despondency, a state of inactivity, stagnation, or slump." And, as I’ve said, I’ve been there. I’m betting you’ve been, too.

Your schedule gets crazy, and you miss your daily "connecting time" with God. Just a day here and there at first, then two days in a row, then three, then a week. Welcome to the doldrums. You make a habit of staying out late on Saturday night and arrive at church exhausted - so exhausted that you just go through the motions. No fresh wind. No fresh fire. Spiritually dead.

Have you been there? Are you there now?

When the old salts of the 18th and 19th century encountered the doldrums, they let down their rowboats and, with long ropes, towed their limp-sailed ships across the placid water in search of a breeze. It was work, but eventually, their sails billowed once more. When you and I are spiritually trapped in a silent, deadly calm, what can we do? We can return to the disciplines that previously made our sails swell - prayer, Bible reading, meditation, worship.

And then we wait.

For just as certainly as the return of pitchers and catchers to training camp heralds the coming of Major League Baseball and spring, fresh spiritual vitality awaits all who are disciplined enough to pursue it.

$2.39 Per Gallon Buys More than Gasoline!

You've got to love the United Arab Emirates, one of the wealthiest nations, per capita, in the world. They used their oil money (our gas money) to build a snow resort in the middle of the desert. Check out these photos of their indoor snow run below. Nice. Very nice.

Under construction

Completed exterior (notice the palm trees swaying in the 103 degree heat)

Indoor view

The Good News is . . .We Met our Co-Pay

This has been quite a week at the Weller home. On Monday, Abigail twisted her knee in a basketball game. The clock was ticking down under a minute, and she was wrestling for a rebound when the opposing player threw her to the ground. Her face twisted in pain as tears cascaded down her cheeks. A trip to the ER, the doctor, and the ortho surgeon later we're still waiting word on her condition. They're pretty sure she doesn't have a torn ACL, but next week's MRI will tell the tale.

Then there is Caleb. He came home from school early on Monday complaining of tummy pain. I gave him my sternnest no-Playstation-lay-on-the-couch-and-stay-there speech. Sixty minutes later he was upchucking, an unfortunate pattern that continued throughout the rest of the day. By yesterday morning, the pain had intensified and he couldn't stand up straight. We took him to the doctor who sent him to the ER (two trips in one week - a record for our family). A blood test revealed an elevated white blood cell count. Dr. Justice's trained hands diagnosed appendicitis. So Bubba lost his appendix about five-fifteen last night. He's doing well though.

Some thoughts. First, people are good. The folks at Fremont Middle School went out of their way to help Abby. They got her a wheelchair and made arrangements to pick it up so we wouldn't have to backtrack. The physicians and nurses at both emergency rooms (Cameron Memorial and Dupont Hospital) were caring and professional. Sherri stopped on her way home from work in Angola to pick up the X-rays to save us a trip. The orthopedic surgeon at ONE and the wall full of pictures of athletes he has treated gave us confidence in his ability. Our youth minister, Scott and his wife Jenny have been a blessing. Scott was here with us most of day yesterday. When Jenny got off work, she brought dinner for us. The Thorps, Sprungers and Steeres watched our other children for us so Tracy and I could stay overnight at the hospital.

Dr. Justice is the best. He is a fine surgeon and a good Christian man. It was reassuring to know that Caleb was in God's hands, and in the hands of a surgeon who is in God's hands. Dupont hospital is unlike any healthcare facility I've ever experienced. The rooms are comfortable. The staff is gracious. They have room service on call (Caleb just ate some french fries, in fact). Most impressive for me, though, is the free wireless internet. It is how I am able to blog sitting at Caleb's side watching him and my exhausted wife slumber. It is also how I was able to email my sermon to our staff and IM with them concerning Caleb's condition.

Yes, this experience has reaffirmed to me the goodness of God's children. People are good. And, Frankly Speaking, that is good news in a world that is in desperate need of good people.

PS - If you don't see much of Jonah in the next few days, I'm guessing he is hiding out in the house, refusing to venture forth in fear that he might be next!

A New Heaven and a New Earth

CNN is reporting a recently discovered pristine rainforest on the Island of Papua New Guinea. Researchers from the United States identified 20 new species of frog, four new species of butterfly and five new species of palms. They also spotted the first new species of bird on the island in sixty years, "a new type of honeyeater bird with a bright orange patch on its face."

The Rhode Island sized forest is unexplored, and scientists have only scratched the surface with the two small trails they cut into the wilderness. In describing the jungle, Bruce Beehler, co-leader of the expedition, said, "It's as close to the Garden of Eden as you're going to find on earth." What is more, researchers revealed that the animals they encountered had no fear of humans, having never seen them before. Sounds a little like the "new heaven and new earth" that God promised the Apostle John in the book of Revelation, and the "lion lying down with the lamb" that God revealed to Isaiah.

The Bible says "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined the things that God has prepared for those who love him." Considering the amazing Papuan paradise just now being explored, imagine the incomparable beauty of the new Heaven and new Earth that God is preparing for those who love Him!

Waiting . . . still!

As I write this there are about 100 students outside my door. They're jumping around on one of those huge inflatable deals you rent for your kid's birthday party. Killing time before the Superbowl, they're watching Michael W. Smith videos, playing foosball, talking to each other and pointing to the girls (or the guys) and whispering - pretty much exactly what you would expect them to be doing.

There is one kid who is not here.

My son, Jonah, is not yet old enough to attend the annual 'Bowl Bash. Oh, he pleaded with me and Mrs. Pastor. He begged. He implored. None of it worked. We've heard it all before from his older brother and sister. For years they too asked to come in spite of being "too young." This event is reserved for Jr. High and Sr. High students, and so each of them had to wait their turn. Abby and Caleb did it, and so Jonah is experiencing the same thing they did: the pain of waiting.

Of course, the waiting makes the actual event that much more sweet. Two years from now, when Jonah is finally able to watch "the game" (with the Colts winning, hopefully) it will be for him a sweet reward.

I sometimes think that is why we have to wait on Heaven. Earth's toil makes the reality of eternal bliss much more sweet.

Until then, I'll wait. Sometimes impatiently, but waiting nevertheless, in the knowledge that at the end of that wait is a sweet reunion with Jesus and those who've "graduated" this earth and are waiting for me in the next.

Lawn Care Lessons

About this time every year, I begin to think about the lawn. After all, it is only 47 days until spring. Pitchers and catchers report in two weeks. Summer isn’t far behind, so I’m thinking green. Now, Mrs. Weller will tell you that I am a bit obsessed with my turf. I constantly remind the children that sidewalks are for walking and grass . . . well . . . grass isn’t. Tracy wanted to have a yard sale last year, but I told her she couldn’t use the yard.

As much as crab grass and lawn litter lawn bother me, there is something that irks me more: people cutting the corner of our lot. For some reason, there are drivers who fail to recognize that the road ends where the turf begins. They cut across the corner of our yard. Last spring this happened so often that a sizeable mud hole developed. It got so big that we found a small child and his dirt bike inside. I filled the hole, seeded the new soil and put four metal posts in the ground to discourage people from cutting the corner.

I share all of this with you to help you understand how pleased I was recently when my oldest son stormed into the house in a huff. Someone had cut the corner and ran over our posts. "They don’t they have any respect for a man’s yard," he hollered. "It’s just wrong!"

I beamed! Soon he’ll be lingering in the lawn care section and having internal conversations about the comparative merits of drop spreaders verses liquid application. ‘At’s my boy!
It’s exciting for every mom and dad when their child begins to care about the same things they care about.

Make no mistake, your children will care about the things that are important to you. Are making money and acquiring possessions your highest priorities? Don’t be surprised when Junior begins focusing on material things. Are you concerned with popularity - being seen with the glamour set? Expect Missy to adjust her behavior in school to accommodate the crowd, too.

On the other hand, if spiritual things are important to you, then they’ll likely be important to your children. Is living out your faith on Monday through Saturday a priority for you? Your children will see that example and develop more than a Sunday-only faith themselves. Do you devote time and energy to a ministry in the church? Soon your sons and daughters will want to serve alongside you. What is important to you will become important to them. And when it does, you will experience joy!

Just like the joy your Heavenly Father feels when you begin to care about the things He cares about.

As you grow in your faith, you’ll become more like your Father in Heaven so that what brings Him joy will make you joyful. What causes Him to weep will break your heart, too. You’ll experience Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 3:18 - ". . . our lives gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him. . ."

And that, my friend, will bring joy both to your Father and to you.

Kent Benson's ABCs of Success

Today the Butler Chamber of Commerce hosted legendary Indiana University basketball player Kent Benson. Benson is best remembered as the center of IU's 1976 undefeated national championship team. He played 11 seasons in the NBA and was named to the Olympic Basketball team.

Benson spoke on "The abc of Success and Excellence." Here they are:

A - Avoid habits that lead to failure.
B - Believe in yourself.
C - Champions. "Champions focus on what they're going to, losers focus on what they're going through."
D - Desire, Determination, Dedication, and Discipline. "Successful people do the things that unsucessful people don't or won't do."
E - Excellence.
F - Family and Friends.
G - Give more than you plan to give.
H - Hang on to your dreams.
I - Identify the obstacles that are keeping you from meeting your goals and dreams.
J - Just do it!
K - Keep on keeping on.
L - Live, learn & love yourself first, after God.
M - Make it happen. Magnificent obsession.
N - Never lie cheat or steal.
O - Open your eyes and see things as they really are.
P - Perfect practice makes perfect.
Q - Quitters never win, and winners never quit.
R - Read study and learn about whatever is important in your life.
S - Stop procrastinating. "When we procrastinate, we delay our own success."
T - Take control of yourself and your destiny.
U- Understand yourself.
V - Visualize it - see it, believe it, achieve it.
W - Want it more than anything.
X - Examine yourself and your motives.
Y - You are uniquely made by God.
Z - Zero in on your target.

Benson also asked a thoughtful question: "Is 'average' the best of the worst, or the worst of the best? - Do you really want to live in that area of mediocrity?"

A Room Full of "Godiologists"

The scene: a lavishly decorated Santa Barbara ballroom. The occasion: a $250 per plate formal dinner fundraiser. The incident: a man slumps over, the victim of a sudden heart attack. The bad news: the dude is dying. The good news: the fundraiser is for the American Heart Association and the room is wall-to-wall cardiologists.

The Associated Press reported that quick-thinking physicians, including Dr. Richard Westerman, were able to revive the man. The ambulance was called, and the fortunate victim is recovering at a nearby hospital.

If you have to have a heart attack, it is good to be in a room filled with heart doctors.

If you have to have a soul attack, it is good to be in a room filled with "soul doctors."

Soul doctors don't necessarily have advanced degrees hanging on their walls. They probably don't wear lab coats, and most don't drive Beamers and Mercedes (although some do.) Who is this cadre of "pious paramedics?"

The church.

If you don't think you're under soul attack, you're in denial. The Bible tells us, "Be careful! Watch out for attacks from the Devil, your great enemy. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for some victim to devour. (1 Peter 5:8, New Living Translation) You and I are under constant attack from Satan and his minions.

How do we survive? We ban together. We bind the wounds of those who are spiritually sick, those who are at risk for a fatal soul attack. Most importantly, we don't try to go it alone. You see, I need you. And, you need me.

The Apostle Paul wrote to encourage Christians in the ancient city of Thessalonica. They were under attack too - both spiritually and physically - as persecution began taking hold in the Roman Empire. Paul told them, ". . . speak encouraging words to one another. Build up hope so you'll all be together in this, no one left out, no one left behind. I know you're already doing this; just keep on doing it. (1 Thessalonians 5:11, The Message)

Sounds like good advice. So take some time this week to visit with your fellow spiritual practitioners at church. It won't cost you $250 to attend. You won't need a tuxedo or evening gown. Yet, the life that is saved might be your own.

It's Just a Car, Lady

Saturday I was reminded that there are some people who just don't get it.

We loaned our mini-van to a friend. Their son had a birthday party, and we thought it would be more convenient for them to be able to drive all the children (including my two sons) in one vehicle. As our friend was pulling into a parking place at a local eatery, she dinged the SUV that was parked next to her. As misfortune would have it, the SUV was a Mercedes. No big deal. Just exchange insurance information and move on, right?

Wrong.

An over-exercised woman verbally assaulted my friend. "How could you be so f------ stupid?! Where did you learn to f------ park?! You're a f------ idiot!" Of course my friend burst into tears and before long the irate woman was trying to apologize for her inexcusable behavior and console the very person she had just attacked .

I met the Mercedes owner today to make sure she had all the insurance information she needed. She was . . . difficult.

She reminded me that there are always going to be some folks who love things and use people. Now my friend, she loves people and uses things. She gets it. That is why she can borrow or loan a car. It is why she is pretty much universally loved. But the over-tanned, shrill-voiced, I-drive-a-Mercedes-so-I-am-better-than-you person I met today - she doesn't get it, and I'm guessing she never will. She kept talking about her car as "her baby," and "her ride." She has personified an object.

The problem with such behavior, of course, is that personifying objects is usually accompanied by objectifying persons. That is what, I am afraid, Mercedes woman has done, who she has become. And, Frankly Speaking, that is very, very sad.

A New Weight for a New Year

Here are my latest before and after photos. The first one is of me July 4th, 2005 with my friend Fred Lab at his lake cottage. I weigh about 340 pounds. The second is two weeks ago. In it I weigh 254 pounds. I've since broken the 250-barrier and weigh 249.8! My goal: to reach my college weight of 220 pounds and then re-evaluate to see if I need to stabilize or drop some more. Thanks to all who encourage me so faithfully in this journey toward better health!

Looking Down

Recently my almost-teenage son introduced me to Google Earth. It was inevitable that Caleb would surpass me in technological savvy, and this was just one more instance of him leaving me in the cyber-dust. Google Earth is a free program you can download that will "fly" you to any location on the face of the planet. In certain locations, the resolution is astonishing. For example, I was able to view our Youth Minister’s house from about 1100 feet in the air. Together, Scott and I were able to pick out missing shingles on the backside of his roof (which have since been repaired.) The neighbors cars are clearly visible in their driveways. The stagnant water in their swimming pools is green and filled with autumn’s rotting leaves.

From Ft. Wayne, I was able to "fly" to Florida to see where my long-lost brother-in-law is living. Turns out he is ensconced near the beach on a channel that leads to the Gulf of Mexico. With such an expensive piece of real estate, I guess he’s doing all right.

Such satellite imagery isn’t just for entertainment. There is more high-tech spying going on than ever before. Even the United States Department of Agriculture is in on the act. According to a recent news report, tomato farmers living in North Carolina were convicted of fraud and ordered to pay $9 million when satellite images revealed them spreading ice cubes in their fields and then hacking their tomato plants. Their goal: to mimic hail damage and collect on their crop insurance.

Yes, Virginia, there is a satellite. And it’s looking down on you.

But the technological marvels orbiting our globe aren’t the only earth-watchers peering down on us. Solomon wrote, "the eyes of the LORD are everywhere, keeping watch on the wicked and the good." How is that possible? How is it that a being can see everything all the time? It would take an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-seeing God to do that. And that is just the kind of God we serve.

The Apostle Peter, quoting Solomon’s father, David, wrote "The eyes of the Lord watch over those who do right, and his ears are open to their prayers. But the Lord turns his face against those who do evil."

Simply put, what Mary Pearson taught me in the third grade really is true:

Oh be careful little eyes what you see . . .
Oh be careful little ears what you hear . . .
Oh be careful little feet where you go . . .
Oh be careful little hands what you do . . .
For the Father up above is looking down in love,
So be careful little eyes what you see.

When my missionary sister is back in the United States on home assignment, she lives in Wisconsin. This joke is in honor of the fine citizens of Wisconsin who show them such wonderful hospitality:

A Polish immigrant goes to the Wisconsin Department of Motor Vehicles in Milwaukee to apply for a driver's license and is told he has to take an eye test.

The examiner shows him a card with the letters:

C Z J W I X N O S T A C Z

"Can you read this?" the examiner asks.

"Read it?" the Polish guy replies. "I know the guy!"

You've Got to Really Want to Go to Church

With icy roads, howling winds, and plunging temperatures, many preachers are amazed when the church fills up on Sunday morning. You’ve got to really want to go to church to brave the kind of weather we’ve been experiencing.

But then again, people having been putting up with hardship for years in order to go to church. In Communist Russia (remember that?), people endured the threat of imprisonment in order to go to church. The sixteenth century Anabaptists had to meet in secrecy in caves and barns to avoid being burned at the stake for going to church. I guess they had to really want to go to church, too.

Then there is the early church - the one that began in Jerusalem forty days after Jesus returned to heaven. Those people had to really want to go to church. For them, going to church meant being rejected by their families, being pursued by the temple police and in the case of a man named Stephen, even being stoned to death. The Bible tells us that when Stephen was killed, ". . . A great wave of persecution began that day, sweeping over the church in Jerusalem, and all the believers except the apostles fled into Judea and Samaria." (Acts 8:1b) Those people had to really want to go to church.

But persecution isn’t a thing of the past. As you and I gathered round our Christmas trees last month, Christians around the world were being locked up for celebrating the birth of Christ. Believers in China, Israel, Indonesia, and Eritrea were arrested.

After leading his village congregation in a Christmas service on December 22 in the Asian nation of Laos, Pastor Aroun Voraphom was tortured and his throat slashed before his family found his lifeless body in a creek, according to Christian Aid. The government claims it was a robbery, but that assertion remains highly disputed.

The more I think about what some Christians the world over endure, the more absurd staying home on Sunday to avoid the weather seems.

George Barna writes that the true measure of whether or not a church is able to grow is it’s members’ willingness to be inconvenienced. He's right. The Church is spreading like wildfire in nations where believers are persecuted. I wonder, will the church in America continue to grow when we're merely inconvenienced?

For more information on the persecution of Christians, including more details on the incidents above, see The Voice of the Martyrs Website.