All You Could Ever Want

For unto us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

|| ISAIAH 9:6 || NRSV ||

"All we could ever imagine, could ever hope for, Jesus is. He is the wise royal Counselor who fills us with wonder, who holds the tangled story lines of history and will one day bring true understanding between all individuals and nations. He is the God of Might, whose power can accomplish any and every task his holiness demands. His power we need not fear for he is also the Father Eternal who is tenderness itself and who is ever motivated by his everlasting love for his children. Finally, he is the Prince of Peace whose first coming has already transformed society but whose second coming will forever establish justice and righteousness. All this, and infinitely more, alive in an impoverished baby in a barn.

That is what Christmas means--to find in a place where you would least expect anything you want, everything you could ever want."

(From Michael Card's "Devotions in the Studio" December 2008/Show #350)

Tim Meets Spurgeon in Duckland!

One of the more humorous ironies of looking back on my days at the University of Oregon has to do with the main library on campus. When you approach it from the front, you'll notice large letters on both sides of the entrance that quote Jesus from John 8:32: "Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." Now if you know anything about Eugene in general and a college education there in particular, you'll find it amusing that the quote is still there today. Having ripped the war memorial cross down from the top of Skinner's Butte, I'm amazed that the "honor diversity" crowd in Oregon's second most populous city would stand for such a thing. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the library was renamed the "Knight Library" (funding compliments of Phil Knight, founder of Nike). I can assure you, though, that the "freedom" they suggest emanates from their professors and "higher learning" there is far from the kind of liberty or truth Jesus spoke of in the original context when he was responding to his Jewish followers. That being said, I did discover a set of old, musty books in that library that encouraged me and introduced me to someone I had, up to that point in the early 1980's, never known about: Charles Spurgeon.

Known as the "Prince of Preachers," Charles Haddon Spurgeon was to nineteenth-century England what D.L. Moody was to America. Although Spurgeon never attended theological school, by the age of twenty-one he was the most popular preacher in London. It is with great fondness that I look back on those college years in Eugene, when the Lord faithfully provided a set of sermons to one of his younglings struggling to trek his way through the obstacle course of an education laden with the truth enumerated in Romans 1:21-22 ("...but became futile in their thoughts, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Professing to be wise, they became fools...")

Here is an excerpt from one of his sermons ("Christ Precious to Believers"):

“Those who declare that the ancient valor of the church is departed, know not what they say. The professing church may have lost some of its masculine vigor; the professors of this day may be but effeminate dwarfs, the offspring of glorious fathers; but the true church, the elect out of the professing church, the remnant whom God hath chosen, are as much in love with Jesus as the saints of yore, and are as ready to suffer and to die. We challenge hell and its incarnate representative, old Rome herself; let her build her dungeons, let her revive her inquisitions, let her once more get power in the state to cut, and mangle, and burn; we are still able to possess our souls in patience. We sometimes feel it were a good thing if persecuting days should come again, to try the church once more, and drive away her chaff, and make her like a goodly heap of wheat, all pure and clean.”

The Prodigal Continent

I was recently listening to one of my favorite podcasts (All Souls Church, Langham Place), when David Turner was sharing a message from the New Testament book of Acts concerning the state of Christianity in Europe, especially in relationship to the rest of the world. He cited Patrick Johnstone, one of the editors of the marvelous Operation World, as referring to Europe as the "prodigal continent," due to the post-Christian worldview that now exists throughout much of the continent.

Here are just a few tidbits of intriguing information I gleaned as I listened and took notes:

1. In the mid-20th century, the gospel really moved east and south. For the first time since the Reformation, 70% of the world's Christians live outside the West and North.

2. In 1900, there were 380 million Christians in Europe; there were less than 10 million in Africa. Today, there are 370 million Christians in Africa...that's 1/5 of the world's Christians.

3. Today there are more evangelicals in Nepal than in Spain.

4. The typical Christian is no longer an affluent, white, and British Anglican male around 45 years of age, but a poor black Pentecostal woman of around 25.

5. The largest congregation in Britain is a Pentecostal church led by a Nigerian.

6. The largest congregation in the world is probably in
South Korea--the Yoido Full Gospel Church
in Seoul--presently at 700,000 members. The church's origin can be traced back to 1958, when five people started meeting in a living room in South Korea.

7. The fastest growing church ever is thought to be the church in China, estimated at some 90 million believers.

Mr. Turner concludes his talk by saying this:

"...Europe is not what is was...Yes, Europe has a soul, a soul imbued by the Christian faith. But the neglect of that soul is meaning that it is shriveling...Europe today is a place of believing without belonging, or restlessness, or searching...it needs the Gospel again..."

I couldn't help but draw the comparison between Europe and the country where I live. We are probably pretty close, if not right where Europe is today when it comes to Christianity and the general value our culture places on the worldview and claims presented in the life, teachings, mission, work, and call of Christ.

Maybe C.S. Lewis was a little too prophetic with this pithy statement:

"You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body."

Hamas Leader's Son Turns to Christ

I recently read the following news story on the Jerusalem Post's news website. It is an interview of the son of a Hamas leader who converted to Christ while imprisoned by the Israeli government. I thought it was an intriguing look inside the hidden world of power struggles within the prison environment in the Middle East and how very much it reminded me of the spiritual transformations we read of constantly in the Book of
Acts. God continues to work in the most unlikely of places, and it is clear He has an undying love and plan for every tongue and tribe under the sun to hear of the Son!

Our Darling Daughter Cortni's Olympic Dreams Come True in Beijing!

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Celebrating 25 Years of Marriage!

We celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary on July 9, 2008. Ironically, we chose to go on our first hike of the summer season a day earlier in the Columbia Gorge, with temperatures pushing 90 degrees. I should have taken the "difficult to very difficult" rating level on the Dog Mountain trail a little more seriously. We were certainly rewarded with a wonderful view of the scenic Columbia River Gorge, but only after consuming mass quantities of water, sweating like overwrought beasts, and grumbling over the aches and pains in our joints and muscles. (By the way, don't you just want to slap those twenty-something hikers who zoom up the trail past you while you imagine yourselves doing battle at Bastogne just to ascend a few miles?!)

On our way up, both of us were musing over how our hike was a fitting allegory of our 25 years of marriage. We started out young and naive, seemingly ill-equipped and oblivious to what would lay ahead. If someone had sat us down in July of 1983 and spread out the timeline of the next quarter century of life together, I think I would have collapsed with fright and looked to make a date with the nearest piece of porcelain. God has been so faithful and good to us, though, shaping his vessels into--hopefully--more responsive and useful bondservants as we've trudged up and down the trail of tears, laughter, and abiding joy. I have grown to love and appreciate Sabrina with a depth I could never have imagined twenty-five years ago. She has become more physically and spiritually attractive to me as the years have rolled on by. Many of the trials we have faced and are facing have, at times, seemed beyond our ability to cope with. The odyssey would have been unbearable without such a loving and spiritually sensitive partner at my side. It may sound cliche to say it, but it has truly been by the Lord's grace--and His grace ALONE-- that we have been able to survive (and even thrive) through the trials and tribulations of the past twenty-five years.

It is impossible to distill all that I'd like to reflect upon in a modest blog entry, but I like how Proverbs concisely expresses the value of a great wife:

"Who can find a virtuous wife?
For her worth is far above rubies. The heart of her husband safely trusts her;
So he will have no lack of gain. She does him good and not evil all the days of her life." (Prov. 8:10-12)

"Her children rise up and call her blessed;
Her husband also, and he praises her:
'Many daughters have done well,
But you excel them all.'
Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing,
But a woman who fears the Lord,
She shall be praised." (8:28-30)


Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove,
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark.
(Wm. Shakespeare's Sonnet 116.2-7)

Farewell to Loved Ones

After a long hiatus from blogging, I'm grieved to report that my dad, William (Bill) Paul Black, passed from this earth on Friday, June 13th. He was born on August 6, 1942 and was just shy of his 66th birthday. The cancer that had originated in his lungs moved to his brain and kidneys a couple of weeks ago, he was transferred to in-home hospice care, and his wife Lori took care of him to the end. Sabrina and I were able to join my younger brother and his wife in Redmond, Oregon right after he started getting hospice care at home. I'm very thankful I was able to spend some time with him while he could still recognize me with his eyes and ears. I also have fond final memories sitting in his living room with my three siblings and putting on a little musical "concert" of sorts, playing everything from Coldplay, Eric Clapton, and John Denver songs to much of my worship music repertoire from Athey Creek Christian Fellowship. I have my dad to thank for playing the guitar. He used to have his nylon string guitar sitting around the house when we lived in Orange County, California. I picked it up when I was in middle school and started playing songs from his folk music chord sheets--stuff like "Hang Down Your Head, Tom Dooley," "The Banks of the Ohio," and "Sloop John B." I also have great memories of being coached in Little League by my athletic dad, watching him play golf and lob ball, and fishing together in the lakes and streams of the Beartooth Country in and around Cooke City and Silver Gate, Montana (just outside the northeast corner of Yellowstone National Park). Above is a picture of my dad as we returned from a fishing trip on our trusty 15 m.p.h. "tote-goat." The pic below was taken last summer, just after my son Chris and I returned from a backpacking trip in the Three Sisters area. You can check out more pics in the "Black Family Potpourri" photo album on the right sidebar.


We also had to say "good-bye" to our precious yellow lab, Bahkit. He was nearly ten-years-old and a true and faithful friend, hiking buddy, water-lover, mountaineer, and family member. In recent months, his hips were really bothering him and, despite the pain and hip medication, was going from bad to worse. His entire hind end was fairly well immobile by the time I took him in to the vet to be put to sleep. I will miss kissing the top of his cute little head, petting his soft, velvety ears, looking into his faithful eyes, and having the best of all hiking and backpacking companions. We have wonderful memories in the Mt. Hood and Three Sisters Wilderness areas, hiking around, chasing butterflies, crashing through streams, and swimming for hours in the high lakes of the Oregon Cascades. Bahkit is a word that means "joy" in the Kazakh language, and he indeed lived up to his name!