Live Free or Die!
I write from the home of some dear friends in Martinsburg, West Virginia. At this point, all my karaoke dreams have come to pass. The Shenandoah River was a thing of beauty, and the country roads always take you somewhere cozy.
But my time was already filled with a luxury of things before my arrival here. I hailed from the great state of New Hampshire, where my wife and I spent a hearty time with the saints of Tri-City Covenant. On Friday night, I attended their monthly pub night, where I offered a 20-minute introduction to ecclesiology, the take-no-prisoner variety. It was well received, and these folks showered me with kindness and good conversation.
The Saturday Bible Conference was a full day of talks on the Book of Jonah. It’s probably the second or third time where I have lectured on Jonah, but I refuse to repeat the same perspective on things. Jonah is infinitely challenging. It offers a refreshing approach to disobedience and the profound struggle to attend to the call of God. For Jonah, the call is daunting (Jonah 1:1). It is a call to forsake all things near and familiar and go into a far country in a reversed prodigalness bringing some out of their filth into loveliness. This missiological task does not offer much solace. As I wrote recently, Jonah is confronting the call of martyrdom. His struggle is exceeding in every way; he fights to the end, even wishing to die.
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The book ends with a missional silence. Jonah ceases to speak, and God’s question chases Jonah and the Israelites. Will you continue this work? Ponder. Meditate. Will you serve Me even if it costs you your life? How does martyrdom sound on your resume?
The book ends with a peculiar reference to “much cattle.” The phrase is undoubtedly a creational reference. There is a constant play on creation where Adam named the animals and had dominion over them. The book implies that God's missiological work ends in the culmination of a new Adam ruling over the earth's animals. Only in a society where the Laws of God are obeyed and the population embraces the rhythms of repentance can we have true revival and restore true order.
The four lectures were followed by incredibly insightful questions and discussions. I was stirred by the interaction and am hopeful some of those bright folks will send me some of their additional thoughts (ahem!).
The Lord’s Warfare
The four long lectures and discussions left me fairly energetic, one of my many flaws. I wish I could unwind, but my mind keeps overflowing with thoughts like the vineyards of Isaiah’s day. The evening provided a seafood dinner with some fine folks in a restaurant that could probably host 2-5 football teams. It was huuuge!
The New England atmosphere is quite sublime. The charm is not as overwhelming as the ya’lls of the south, but it is nearly impossible to find a more gracious and hospitable people.
We ate and awoke the next day for a full day of worship, where I taught Sunday School and delved into my classic sermon on the liturgical training school of God in Psalm 98. I argue that God’s music begins in the Church (garden) and flows into the land (homes) and then the world (culture). It was an exceptional time, including a treat to have their high school choir sing Wesley’s Come All Who Love the Slaughtered Lamb with the tune I composed a year or so ago. Several churches have adapted that melody into their repertoire, and if I were of a white complexion, you would see me blush.
Again, the experience was delightful, like a Mexican margarita on a Florida day. My gratitude to Elder Paul Edgar and Pastor Harold Guptill, who treated me like a celebrity from Florida. I honestly think they felt the DeSantis vibe in my presence. My time closed with a charge from Proverbs 10 to the high school students during Matins on Monday morning.
After eight lectures, I rested my eyes and brain and headed to the Boston Airport to embrace with enthusiasm my D.C. phase of the trip. The entire event was a flourishing of kindness, and I will not forget the few days in New England. I lived free and talked about death, though I did not die.
Cheers from the Northeast!
Uriesou Brito