Author: Paul D. Sisson

Serving the Lord by focusing truthful Biblical teaching as it relates to every day life experiences. Join me as we take this journey into the Word of God together and find gems of scripture which will fill the treasure box of your heart. "I intreated thy favor with my whole heart; be merciful unto me according to thy Word". Psalms 119:58

No Ordinary Sunday

“When we left our home in the Ukraine. Nickolay and Yakov’s instruments were confiscated and we were not allowed to let instruments made in our homeland make their way to America with us”.

There are some First Days of the week that stand out as no ordinary Sunday.  Such a Sunday morning seems to find a special spot in our memories and warm our hearts as no earthly fire can.  Each person who enters the church sanctuary has a personal need, realized or unrealized.  Some come for fellowship, some for a specific prayer need; others are facing a job lay-off or a crumbling marriage, but all desiring to be refreshed by laying their burden or brokenness before the Lord in worship.

Through the doors of the sanctuary on this remarkable morning came a reserved and timid looking young family, meticulously dressed, wearing smiles that were both telegraphing awe and fear at the same time.  As I approached the family their eyes caught mine and I said, “Good morning, welcome to Arvada Christian Church, my name is Paul.”   The mother and father glanced at each other then the husband looked at me and said in a heavy accent, “Good morning, my name is Yuri”.  I could see that he was desperately struggling to speak in English. Yuri then introduced his wife and children.  As I helped them find a seat they graciously received the worship bulletin.  Turning to greet others, I overheard the hushed tones of the visiting family talking among themselves in Russian.  Their words expressed a sense of excitement that transcended any communication barrier.   It was as though a dream from years ago was now in these moments bringing a joy of reality to their hearts. There was no one in our congregation that could speak Russian.  My thoughts raced. “How could I communicate to Yuri’s family?”

On the wall in my church office I had hung an autographed picture of a Three Star Russian General. The officer had become a Christian and was now fulfilling his vow to God.  His testimony and heart felt challenge as he spoke moved people to answer the call to personally place the Word of God throughout the Russian Military. The General had served as the highest ranking officer in the Russian Army assigned to Afghanistan War.  His helicopter was shut down and as it was approaching the ground he cried out, “God ,if you are real, help me to survive this crash! I will serve you with all my life!”  He survived his life threatening wounds and never forgot his promise to God.  He had come to America on several occasions to speak to Churches and raise funds asking Christians to assist by providing funding to purchase Bibles.

It was not just the autographed picture of the General that I was retrieving from my office.  There was a long letter written by the General that covered the entire back of the photo.  Hand written in Russian and addressed to me personally he thanked me for preaching the Gospel and encouraging me to be strong in my continued service in the Lord’s Army.  It was indeed a treasured gift.  The General had served on Yeltzin’s personal staff in Moscow. He had also given me an epilate from his uniform which I had attached to the frame of the picture.  I will never forget when he handed me one 3 star insignia on a shoulder epilate and said in his strong Russian accent, “Paul, I can only give one of these to you.  If I give to you two, you must serve in the Russian Army for three years.”

Immediately, before the worship prelude had even begun, I removed the picture and 3 Star epilate from the office wall and took it to Yuri.  He showed it to his wife and then to each of his children.  It was the only way that we could communicate that day.

They closely observed every aspect of the worship service and participated when they could.  As I preached they were attentive and sat on the edge of their pew.  I wondered what it must be like to attend church and not understand the words being spoken. They all participated in the Lord’s Supper as the emblems were passed.   After the service Yuri communicated by hugging me as a tear rolled from his eye down his cheek.  He handed me the General’s picture, I pushed it back to him.   I wanted him to have it.  His wife gave me a small piece of paper with an address on it. As I slipped it into my pocket Yuri smiled and took his family home.   When they left the foyer I silently prayed for them. I watched through the glass as Yuri’s family made their way back home walking, bounding with a happiness in their stride.

Early in the following week I searched for a Russian translator to assist me in making a call in Yuri’s home.  Through the help of a determined business man in the church, a translator was found and it was our privilege to visit Yuri, Liya, Nickolay, Yakov, Pavel, and Yelena in their new apartment located only a few blocks from the Church building.  Yuri again hugged me and invited us into his home.   It was a personal call that I will long remember.   Yuri had been in the United States for only three days before visiting the church.  His dream was to come to America and attend an American church.  He had been baptized in Russia and had been raised in a Christian home.  Together we talked about the Word of God.  We talked about our families and our children and our common desire to serve the Lord.

It was exciting to learn of the musical backgrounds of each of the children and Yuri’s wife.  They showed pictures of their worship service in the Ukraine with each of the children and Liya playing on the worship team.  “I see that your two oldest boys play the violin and viola.” “Yes, but not now”, Yuri responded sadly by saying, “When we left our home in the Ukraine. Nickolay and Yakov’s instruments were confiscated and we were not allowed to let instruments made in our homeland make their way to America with us”. I was speechless by his revelation followed by a deep heartache that could only be known by a father who knew how important a musical instrument can be in the life of a child.  Yuri’s words were a reminder of the spiritual music that flows from the soul of every follower of Christ.   The songs of wonder and awe at the works of God’s mighty hand are a very real part of our spiritual lives.

Our conversation continued and came to a close as we prayed for each other.  First I prayed as the translator interpreted.  Then Yuri prayed as the translator spoke in English.  I asked if Yuri’s family would like to sing next Sunday morning and they graciously accepted the invitation.  

The following Sunday, they came to the platform bringing their Russian hymnal asking my wife Janice, the church pianist, to accompany them.  Our cultural backgrounds and language barriers, however extensively separated, were wonderfully united in Christ.  Even the written music notation on the pages of the Russian hymnal unites our ability to accompany each other in the common expression of musical notation.  Now the language roles were reversed.   As the family began to sing, two hymns were translated in the minds of every person in attendance. Each knew the hymns as, “How Great Thou Art”, and “Amazing Grace.”  When the family finished the hymns, the resounding, “Amen” expressed a heartfelt appreciation for what had just happened within the walls of this urban American church. 

In the weeks that followed, I began an extensive search for a violin and viola for Nickolay and Yakov.   Through the benefit of an anonymous gift, two new instruments were secured and made ready for presentation to Yuri’s family.   Accompanied by the translator, and the leadership of the church we made our way to the apartment complex.  As we knocked on the door, our hearts leaped for joy in the knowledge that God had provided two beautiful stringed instruments for this family.  As the door opened we all were graciously welcomed into their home.  I explained that it was a privilege to give these instruments to your children on behalf of a grateful congregation.  Tears again began to flow as the cases were opened and the children were summoned.  The smiles and emotion that filled their living room gave praise to our faithful Heavenly Father who had brought them to America. With thankful hearts they erupted into Praise to Him and expressed since thanks for the genuine love expressed by fellow Christians that they had just met.

A few weeks later, for a second time, there was not a dry eye in the entire congregation as Nickolay and Yakov played their new instruments following the Lord’s Supper. Their little brother Pavel joined his brothers by playing the flute.  The beautiful music flowing from their hearts by the gentle touch of their fingers pressing the stings upon the ebony. Their uniform bowing technique upon the strings had brought the congregation together in true worship.  Our eyes were not upon ourselves we were listening in praise to God as the music echoed though out the wooden walls of the Sanctuary.

Yuri’s family never missed a service in the months that followed.  Their English skills improved and they continued to bless the church always with a smile and an exuberant joy.  They found brothers and sisters in Christ in a far away land where their dreams came true to eventually  become American Citizens. The transcending love of Christ for His churches is powerful to all peoples of the world

The challenge of expanding global missions at home and abroad is a task that must be accomplished through the commitment of God’s people.  The empty pews of American churches cry out to be filled as we reach out to the vast multitudes of ethnic diversity.  By encouraging compassion here at home, we will also regain the zeal and right perspective for a world view of missions.  The spiritual heritage of those who have blazed the trail of mission accomplishment in the past spur us on to a new dedication of the spiritual work that is before us.  United as one body of Christ we can meet the challenging goals that are seem almost impossible in the 21st century.  The Great Commission given by Jesus to His disciples is found in Matthew 28:16-20.  Fulfilling that commission does not always mean becoming a foreign missionary on the other side of the Globe.  It may mean that you must be a missionary to the one who comes through the doors of the local church who cannot speak your language, who has hopes of serving Christ with you, or may be saddened by the things they had to leave behind to make their dreams come true.  One Lord, One Faith, One baptism, and one God the Father. One dream to serve Christ wherever he leads and gives opportunity to reach a soul who is searching.

For God so loved the world that He gave us His only Son … John 3:16  

Paul Sisson

From Where I Am Seated

My new and changing vantage point in the worship service gives me a totally new perspective

     The view from my place in the congregation has changed over the years and today I must speak out clearly with a determined voice.  I vividly remember the day when the church gathered to worship for the first time in the new building for which they had long prayed and tirelessly labored. They had sacrificially provided funding which reflected their commitment to a ministry which was purposely generational in scope.

     I was seated for the first time in the new sanctuary it was inspiring and emotions ran deep.  During the service, just as communion time approached, a ray of sunlight beamed through the skylight of the ceiling.  It was as though God was rejoicing with us in the celebration of this special day.  Everyone who saw the ray of sunlight will never forget that communion service.  All the engineering planning in the world, all the calculations of building placement on the site, all the architectural design hours could not guarantee that at the time the congregation gathered around the Lord’s Table on this first Sunday, a ray of sunlight would fall across me.  Though it has been many years, it seems like only yesterday.  The warmth of the glowing sun on that first Sunday was often renewed when the tender hand of an Elder standing near was placed on me and the whole congregation bowed their heads in prayer.  I had been created for a Godly purpose and each Sunday I stood ready to be used for His purpose.

     Over the years, while looking out at those who come to worship each Sunday, I have noticed a change that is far too revealing.  You see, the one who was seated next to me for so many years had been forced to leave the sanctuary years ago.  At first it caused quite a flurry of discussion which filled hours of meetings that finally resulted in me being seated alone.  Now it was my turn.  I was being moved to a place I did not want to go, a place where I did not want to be seated.  It seemed as though the warmth of the sunlight that beamed across me so long ago was now to be replaced with only a shadow of what once was.

      Throughout the years I have watched each of you grow in Christ from childhood to adulthood.  I have witnessed the absence of those who are no longer here to worship in this new building.  I can still remember the beautiful rose bud that was given to your family when you celebrated the birth of your child.  The aroma of flowers which filled the air extending the love of Christ displayed in the beauty of each opened flower.  I saw the tears run down your face as you expressed unbearable emotion of the separation from a loved one. There were many meals that we have shared over the years, the reflective moments of self examination have each recalled the forgiveness of sin through the blood of Christ.  Reflecting on those things for which we were created has been a blessing that carries us to a deepening purpose of not thinking of ourselves but thinking of the one who saved us by His blood. 

     Freedom from the penalty of sin is no trivial matter.  Worship overflows with praise and honor for all that Christ has brought into your life.  The oral reading of the scripture by a faithful experienced follower of our Lord still inspires and challenges you to remain steadfast in your work for Him.  For your labor is not in vain. Your forgiveness was purchased on an old piece of wood on Calvary’s hill where the sunlight of God was nailed to the darkness of sin.

     I long for the days when I was seated with a faithful elder at my side.   Standing close to me at times an aged brother’s cane would rest against me as the church intently watched him open his Bible and read of the sacrifice of Christ.   Reverently he would break the bread and pass the trays containing the bread and fruit of the vine to others who in turn would pass the emblems to each individual Christian.  Those who partook in a worthy manner would remember the body and the blood of Christ. THIS DO IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME was etched in the lives of all who gathered around the Lord’s Table.

     One Sunday, to my surprise, I looked up and saw that the pulpit was gone. My stalwart companion of many years had been removed from the sanctuary and replaced with a music stand.  That sacred desk which stood so tall and served so faithfully throughout the generations was regulated to a seat outside the sanctuary. 

     Even as ministers would come and go, the preaching of the Word of God stood strong and true. The scars on the wood of the pulpit were reminders of life changing applications and illustrations which were spoken with prophetic authority.   From that old pulpit flowed the Word of God that challenged your parents and grandparents to live a life of faith.  A blessing that still flows from their generation to yours is witnessed on the facial expressions of those who gather to worship.  Both young and old became obedient and were immersed for the remission of sins and were raised to walk in newness of life.

     I recall your great grandfather standing behind the pulpit and doing his part in challenging the church to be faithful during difficult times.  I can still hear the cry of the newborns that were proudly held by their parents as the minister asked God to help the parents raise their child in a Christian home.  Visions of your father thanking the church with tear filled eyes for their prayers concerning a special need are not soon forgotten.

     There was a time when people who came to the church approached the pulpit with a Godly fear.   Even when the custodian cleaned the building there seemed to be a higher respect given to this piece of furniture.  Now the pulpit is seated in a classroom.   When one comes home to visit the church today you will find the pulpit somewhere in the church building if you look long enough and are persistent in your search.  The location where it stood for so many generations now stands empty.  It now stands in the shadows of storage looking out of place when one enters the room.  Piled high are stacks of other items stored for a later date that never seems to come.  It’s authoritative voice is now silent and choked with dust.  The caring hands of a skilled craftsman had long ago purchased the wood and spent hours forming it carefully, coating it not only with varnish but with personal prayer as he worked.  It was indeed a labor of love given to the church he loved.  

     I did not speak out when the pulpit was placed in storage. I still heard sermons that were exceedingly challenging to those attending the worship services.  People were still coming forward and being baptized, and for that everyone rejoiced.  God’s Word was still moving among His people.  Pulpit or music stand, podium or nothing at all, the Word was still being preached and people were still being won to Lord and became a part of the body of Christ.  

     My new and changing vantage point in the worship service gives me a totally new perspective.   At times I sit along the outer edges of the pews.  At times I sit in the back of the sanctuary.  At times I stay in the foyer and never enter the sanctuary.    What is to become of the church for which I was made?   The Pulpit has been moved and now what am I to do?  Does no one care that I have a place in the worship service?  

     The Words of Jesus, “this do in remembrance of me” are etched in your mind as you listen to the communion meditation.  For me, they are etched in my faceplate, carefully carved in the wood that makes me into the table on which the communion trays are placed.  I am the same table where so long ago the sunlight reflected the light of heaven on that first Sunday in your new sanctuary. 

       I am saddened just now, for hot coffee was just spilled on me and left a stain deep in my finish.   This is not what I was created for.   Will you seat me again in the Sanctuary?   Please!

Paul D. Sisson

The Guardian

As I bowed my head I thanked God that He had allowed Bryan the recovery needed to once again take up his life.

     Not so long ago, (has it really been 21 years), my wife and I were faced with decisions that a presiding judge called, “A parents’ worst nightmare!”  It had only been a few months since we celebrated Bryan’s 18th birthday, a day declaring his personal independence and manhood. But now I had just testified in a proceeding petitioning the court to give back to me the legal guardianship to make decisions on Bryan’s behalf.  The courtroom was filled to capacity and as our case was called, my heart broke again as I was placed in the difficult position of removing my son’s ability to make decisions for himself. Moving toward the witness stand, our attorney began the process of taking my testimony.  I spoke of my relationship with my son and delineated my personal background.  As we continued I was asked to describe Bryans’ injuries fully and explain the life saving care he was currently receiving.  A deafening silence filled the courtroom as I spoke.  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the bailiff raise his handkerchief to dry his eyes.  The court had previously appointed a local attorney to represent Bryan in the guardianship proceeding to insure that his best interests were served.  At the conclusion of my testimony, the Judge asked Bryan’s appointed attorney to speak.  She said that she had no objection to my becoming Bryan’s guardian and urged the court to grant the petition. Immediately the judge gaveled a sound that echoed throughout the court room.  The petition was granted and I became Bryan’s legal guardian.  As Janice and I rode back to the hospital from the courthouse, our eyes filled with tears.  We both prayed that God would give us the wisdom to make the right decisions facing us as parents in the coming days, months and years.

     Bryan was on full life support for a long period of time.  His intensive care room was filled as lines for monitors, ventilator, G tube; J tube, IV’s, and cranial pressure monitor were attached to his body and sustained his life.  The tracheotomy and brain stint surgeries were successfully completed.  For weeks Bryan was unconscious and non responsive.  Janice and I were allowed into his ICU room for only 15 minutes every four hours.  At times we would see his foot or hand move and we would leap for joy and begin to cry.  The doctors would carefully explain that all these movements were involuntary and Bryan was not exhibiting purposeful movement.

     After the first week, the two neuro doctors advised us that Bryan was “slipping away”, and informed us that we should prepare ourselves for Bryan’s pending death.  We went back to our sleeping rooms on the second floor of the hospital with our daughter, Jennifer, and prayed for our son and brother.  We held each other knowing that God was holding each of us in His hands.   As we lay down in exhaustion we planned Bryan’s funeral service, feeling that it would soon be impossible to think clearly should we lose our son that night.

      We did not find out until months later that at this time the two neurologists had agreed that it was time to take Bryan off of life support.  The medical evidence had led them to believe that the injury was far too severe for him to recover and have any chance of a normal life.   One of the nurses who had worked in the Neuro ICU for over twenty five years spoke up to the two doctors and said, “I have a feeling about this patient and I think that you need to give this boy a little more time.”   Janice and I are forever indebted to that nurse for her courage to speak up and share her feelings about our son.  Her statement and convincing manner changed the decision of the two doctors who agreed to give Bryan more time.  Jan is one the heroes in Bryan’s recovery, a ministering angel of God dressed as a nurse in the Neuro ICU. I am forever indebted to her for saving me the heart-wrenching decision of acting upon the neurologists’ recommendation.

     Gradually, almost imperceptibly at first, Bryan’s condition began to improve.  There were set backs and from time to time advances that filled us with hope and then sank back again to a previous or lower state.  People all over the world were praying and God was answering each of their prayers. The Valley View congregation in Texas was a faithful prayer partner with us in seeking Bryan’s healing and God’s guidance and strength for myself, my wife, and our daughter.

     The process of waking up from a coma is a slow process.  It is not like the movies make it appear where someone just wakes up from an unconscious state and everything falls back into order.  There were deep valleys to walk though and mountains that seemed too high but we remembered the climb as he slowly regained consciousness.  Bryan could not swallow, he could not talk, and he could not walk.  The inability to swallow kept the feeding tube from being removed.  Through months of therapy the doctors were able to retrain another portion of his brain to control his ability to swallow.  There were weeks of testing, watching a moving X-ray of his swallowing, of therapy and neck massage. The feeding tube remained until consistent swallowing was accomplished.  It was difficult and slow but God is always in control through every step.  The months and years that followed saw Bryan press ahead at each challenge before him.  One by one he faced each obstacle as a determined young man. Doctors and therapists often told us that where he stopped or gave up would be the final point of his recovery.  Bryan seemed to instinctively know that if he did not go beyond the pain he would plateau.  On one occasion three physical therapists broke Bryan’s arm while trying to bend his elbow.  Yet he was ready to return the next day to let them continue to work on his right arm.  A therapy technique called serial casting was implemented in an attempt to make the arm bend.   Each day they would remove the cast, bend the elbow further, and recast it in a new position. The pain was excruciating.  Ultimately, following two surgeries, Bryan was able to gain limited motion in his arm.  

     Four years later, Bryan and I returned to the courthouse where I had originally been given his guardianship.  This time the petition before the court was to remove the guardianship and restore to Bryan his independence.  As we waited in the hallway for our case to be called, I once again reflected upon the experiences that we had faced together.  As I bowed my head I thanked God that He had allowed Bryan the recovery needed to once again take up his life.  As I lifted my head from prayer a gentleman approached me, “Mr. Sisson?”  I said, “Yes”.  It was the judge that had originally granted the guardianship and he was now in private practice as an attorney.  He immediately asked about my son.  I introduced him to Bryan. 

     Our case was called and we entered the courtroom.  Both Bryan and I testified this time.   The judge talked to Bryan at length and Bryan answered his every question.  The judge informed us that the Taney County Court had never removed a guardianship for two reasons:  1. A guardian rarely wants to relinquish control, or 2. The patient never recovers to the point of having the guardianship removed. The judge dissolved the guardianship that day and Bryan became his own person once again. Soon thereafter, Bryan made his plans to transfer to the University of North Texas.  Bryan soon graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree and two years later with a Master’s Degree. Both were days of celebration for him and answered prayer for his mother and me. 

      It is true that a parent will do anything possible to save the life of a child they love no matter what the cost or sacrifice.  Now with the resent passing of his mother and my beloved wife Bryan is now undertaking a new journey in his life.  Today he will load his personal belongings and will be moving to a new apartment on the beach in Galveston, Texas.    I will miss him. After selling his home a year ago in Dallas he decided to move back home with us and assist in the care for his mother.  I can hardly believe that it has been nearly seven months since Janice went to her new home in Heaven so peacefully.  Now the former Guardian and Protector of my wife and son will be alone in the quietness of this house.  Not alone in this life but loved by a daughter and her family forever.  I am blessed beyond measure to be loved by Christ and to serve Him as the true Guardian and Protector of my soul.  Who is the guardian of your life? Who stands with you in the valleys?  Who holds your hand when you cannot find the way?  Who is your Protector?   Who is the one who watches over you as you journey in this life?     IT IS JESUS CHRIST!  Walk with him every step of the way.  Rejoice that our spiritual life support is always present with us. Take great comfort in the moments of today in knowing that Christ is your Living Water!

     John 4:13-14: “Jesus answered and said unto her, Every one that drinketh of this water shall thirst again: but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall become in him a well of water springing up unto eternal life.”  Daily we are fed as Christ is our Bread of Life.  John 6:35: “Jesus said unto them, I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall not hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.”

Paul D. Sisson

From Age to Age The Same

Train up a child in the way he should go, And when he is old he will not depart from it.  Proverbs 22:6

When the phone rang it called to attention our thoughts amidst the daily routine of living life in the ministry.  As Janice answered the phone I could hear by the tone of her voice that it was a serious call.  Alice had passed away in Missouri.  Three weeks previous to her death she was still living alone in her apartment, caring for herself, and attending church every Sunday.  A small stroke had caused her to be hospitalized and not wanting to be a burden to her family, she informed her son, “I think it is time that I go to the nursing home”.  A few brief days later she entered heaven.

After making the necessary arrangements to attend Alice’s funeral, Janice and I left for Carterville, MO.  It felt good to see family when we arrived.  Friends had gathered in my brother-in-law’s home that I had not seen in many years.  There were new people to meet as I had never met Alice’s daughters before.  We had known Alice for many years and hosted her at our home many times.  She was Roger’s mother, the husband of Janice’s sister, Janine. 

I was proud to sit beside the family at Alice’s funeral.  Everyone listened intently and focused on heaven as Janice played the piano.  My mind briefly began to recall a cherished Christmas memory from long ago.   Jennifer was in grade school and we had gone to Janice’s sister’s home for the Holiday.  All the cousins were there in Norton, Kansas.  Verner and Alice were there too from Omaha, Nebraska.  In the afternoon family members gathered with Christmas joy still overflowing on their faces as they each found a seat in the large living room.  The Christmas tree was glowing and the tasty family dinner still filled the house with the seasoned aroma of Christmas.

Janice was playing Christmas music on the piano as little Jennifer accompanied on her violin.  Oh, how beautiful was the singing of the family choir that joined in song.  On top of the piano there was a violin that Verner had made himself years ago.  He was now unable to speak. A stroke had deprived him of his voice.  You could see on his face the joy of listening to the little girl play.  Verner got up slowly and carefully from his chair. His weakened legs seemed to be strengthened by a special determination in his feeble small steps as he approached the piano. The music stopped when he arrived at his destination.  The room was filled with wonder much like the quietness of fresh falling snow on the meadow. Verner reached for the violin that he had crafted by his own hands in younger days now long past.  He had been an outstanding professional chemist throughout his exemplary career. His craftsmanship in the wood shop showed that he was an accomplished Luthier.

The silence of the moment was broken.  It was like sitting in the grandest concert hall as the concert master entered and tuned each of his violin strings and thereby tuning the entire grand orchestra in anticipation of the entrance of the conductor. No word was spoken as everyone watched Verner extend his arms.  In one hand was his tuned violin and in the other hand was his bow.  He placed them both into Jennifer’s hands after she laid her own instrument down.  She raised the violin to her chin and began to play.  He stood there watching every move and listening to every note.  Tears flowed from his eyes and down his face as she played his violin for him on that Christmas afternoon.  A concert to be remembered deep within the hearts of those who were so moved by the melody of life witnessed by this gracious act.  A priceless moment of time never to be forgotten   A Christmas gift that was the celebration of life, the celebration of birth, and the celebration of family all blended together in praise to the faithful God who gave us His son, Jesus.   A blessing that extends to a 1,000 generations.

My thoughts turned back to the funeral service and the life of a gracious Christian woman.  As Alice’s obituary was read I listened intently and was personally challenged and humbled by her life experiences.  Alice was born in 1903, Teddy Roosevelt was President.  The American history, the experiences of life, and the cultural changes that had taken place in her lifetime were almost unbelievable.  She was alive before there was an Income Tax and before the Titanic sailed on it’s maiden voyage,  Her husband Verner, was a veteran of World War I.  She had raised 5 children, 3 daughters and 2 boys all of whom graduated from Bible College.  Alice and her husband had been instrumental in establishing the Irvington Christian Church in Omaha, NE.  Their lifelong commitment to Christ and His Church are still a living witness long remembered in the history of the Christian Church in Eastern Nebraska. 

As we drove home from Missouri reflecting on what we had just experienced my thoughts were drawn back to the days when I was a freshman attending Dakota Bible College.  Just before college started that year I drove to Iowa to attend the funeral of my fathers’ Great Great Uncle.  Mr. Schmidt died at the age of 105.  He was born only one year after the assassination of Abraham Lincoln in 1866.  He was a post master in a small Iowa town whose years of retirement were more than the years he worked.  Today there is still an oil portrait of Mr. Schmidt in the lobby of the Post Office building in Iowa where he served.  I recall as a small boy seeing him at family reunions.  My earliest recollection is seeing an old man seated in a lawn chair and being somewhat fearful when my father took me by the hand to introduce me.  He reached out his hand and firmly shook my hand, smiled, and said, “Hello Paul it is nice to see you”.   The American history, the experiences of life, the cultural changes that had taken place in his life were also unbelievable.  

Mr Schmidt was a member of the Christian Church.  His commitment to Christ saw his family carry the Gospel into the Dakota Territory and eventually lead to the establishment of the Christian Church in Sioux Falls, S. D.  He was an early pioneer of the faith whose dedication to the Word of God continues to carry an influence in South Dakota and in my personal life as a minister.           

One Hundred years from now what legacy will you have left behind?  The day to day living of life influences generations yet to be.  Someday a family member will be moved by your history, your experiences, and cultural changes that you faced.

The gem for our treasure box today is that we must lift up Christ in all three of these areas and have committed hearts than yearn to follow the Word of God all the days of our life.

Do you realize that America is so young?  Just think, going back another 100 years from the birth of Mr. Schmidt would place you 10 years before the American Revolution. 

Paul Sisson, Minister      

A Struggle For Truth

It was quite a surprise when David entered my office.  Serving as the senior minister of a large church in a rural community brings you in touch with many lives on a daily basis.  This, however, was a visit that I will never forget. 

David was the minister of the oldest Presbyterian Church in the state of Oklahoma when he entered my office with a question.  I was well aware of the Church that he served and its’s historical influence on our entire community.  Rural communities have a real sense of what it means to be a neighbor.  As soon as I saw David my mind briefly paused out of respect before I said, “Good Morning David” and invited him to sit down.  Here two preachers, one from the Presbyterian Church and one from the Christian Church sat down together.  I had no idea what was to transpire from that meeting over the next few weeks.  Looking back now, from the memories of ministry it was like God telling Moses,“Take off your shoes for the place where you are standing on is Holy Ground.”  What had historically taken on the name, “No Man’s Land”, was to eventually be known as the, “Panhandle of Oklahoma” but was at this moment, “Holy Ground” for me.

The Presbyterian Church building was very small and had been well taken care of by loving generations of members through the years. Outside the Church stands a sign designating the building as a historical site of Oklahoma.  Years before Oklahoma received it’s statehood worshippers gathered in this small building.  The Presbyterian Church of Beaver, Oklahoma, was never large from any attendance standpoint but the entire community regarded it as a part of its identity and history.  What a legacy for any congregation!

David had been serving in Presbyterian Churches for over 20 years when he came to my office.  My surprise was not in seeing David, but the seriousness in which he approached me.  Immediately he asked, “Paul, I have been struggling with an issue and I would like to ask you how you feel about it”.   I reassured David and invited him to ask me anything that he wanted.  He began by telling me about the debate going on in the Presbyterian Church over the issue to ordain homosexuals into the ministry.   As he talked I could see that this was sincerely a difficult struggle raging in his heart. His commitment to ministry and application of many years of study and experience as a Presbyterian minister wrestled within him.

Together we searched the Scripture, studying the passages where God clearly states that homosexuality is sin.  Tears came to David’s eyes for he already knew what God’s word said on this subject.  “I agree with what the Bible says.” David remarked.  “This should not even be a debatable subject.  I just cannot understand the desire to want to ordain homosexuals into the ministry.”  David talked for a long time and I sat and listened.  We turned to other passages of scripture on the subject and read them together.   Our discussion concluded in prayer and a commitment to continue to pray for each other.

As David got up from his chair I asked him, “Do you like to read for relaxation?” “I have a book about a Presbyterian minister that you might like to read.”  From my bookshelf I gave him my copy of Louis Cochran’s book, “The Fool of God”, a novel based on the life of Alexander Campbell.  David thanked me and gladly took the book.

Four days later he returned to my office with the book in hand and told me, “You know, I have a lot in common with Alexander Campbell.”   David sat down and we talked in great detail about the life of Alexander Campbell and the struggles that he faced as a Presbyterian minister.   We talked briefly on some of the basic principles of the Restoration Movement.  He had never heard the term before.

Then to my astonishment David asked, “Paul will you study the subject of baptism with me?”  Out of the blue the question was asked and stunned my train of thought.  I suggested that we meet for an hour on Tuesday mornings for the following six weeks.   David was extremely faithful in keeping these appointments and always came prepared.  His hand written notes and prepared questions telegraphed his desire to learn more of the Word of God.  Much study time was spent on the purpose and mode of baptism.  During the final study session, David asked a question that I will remember for the rest of my life, “Will you immerse me into Christ for the remission of my sins?”  I agreed to baptize David and told him we could go to the baptistry right then.  He further astonished me by saying, “I want to do it Friday because I want the leadership from the Presbyterian Church to attend.   I also want you to prepare a message on the meaning of Acts 2:38 and Romans 6 and preach at my baptismal service.”   I was moved by his sincerity and together we set the time for Friday. He also approved of me inviting the elders of First Christian Church and their families

When the appointed time on Friday came, David entered the sanctuary of the Christian Church accompanied by several families of the Presbyterian Church.  The Elders of the Christian Church were already seated.   David handed me a bulletin that he had carefully prepared showing the order of service.  He handed a copy to everyone present.   He read two passages of scripture and then asked me to preach on the meaning and importance of baptism.  We then went to the baptistry and I asked, “David, do you believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God?” He answered with authority, “I do!”  “I now baptize you in the name of the Father, The Son, and Holy Spirit for the remission of your sins and God will give to you the gift of the Holy Spirit”.  I lowered him into the water and lifted him up to walk in newness of life.  Unspeakable joy floods the face of every new Christian who comes up out of the water.  For David it was no different.  He was now a Christian.  His sins were forgiven.  He was raised to walk in newness of life.  David was greeted and embraced by his Presbyterian leaders and the elders of First Christian Church.  

Some people say that there is no place for the Restoration Movement in the 21st century, that there is no purpose in espousing the ideals of past generations based upon Biblical principals.   In truth we must never forget the power of the Word of God and the simple Gospel message that transforms lives no matter what our background.  People today are searching for truth and trying to find it based upon their feelings, wants, and personal desires.  When you open your heart to the truth of God, there you will find the meaning and purpose for your life.  

It was not long after David’s baptism that a young family wanted their baby baptized at the Presbyterian Church.  David told them that in good conscience he could not baptize a baby because the Bible does not teach us to baptize infants.   In the next several months that followed David resigned from the Presbyterian Church and moved to Kansas where he continued to preach from time to time and worked on a family farm.  He never doubted his decision to be baptized or to serve the Lord with his life.   Recently, upon hearing of David’s death, a tear ran down my face as I remembered the day he gave his life to Christ in baptism.  My brother in Christ, who thought more about his commitment to the Word than the divisive battles being waged by a denomination, made a lasting impression on me and renewed my commitment to the validity of the Restoration Movement in this generation.

Paul D. Sisson

Words That Season

Throughout my years as a minister, some experiences have seemed to stand out as a sign post directing the important decisions of today.  As a beginning minister over 30 years ago, I was excited about the opportunities which lay ahead.  The thrill of finishing Bible College and locating my young family to a Southwest Iowa rural community brought a heartfelt sense of praise to God for leading my wife and me to serve in the local congregation of Christians. 

     As we pulled up to the stop sign on the highway just north of town, Janice and I looked at each other and prayed for a moment before turning and asked God to use us in His work that He had called us to.  As the loaded truck made the turn we saw our destination only a few miles in front of us.  The Church had gathered to help us unload and move into the parsonage.  We were home. 

     God taught us many things in that congregation.  Working with individuals and families brought victories for Christ as well as challenging times where the testing of faith matured and strengthened our young family. 

     There were times of laughter. One year I had decided to enter the outdoor barbecue contest at the County Fair.  I carefully worked on my own recipe and sought the perfect cut of meat to grill.  As I was setting up to cook at the fair, people gathered around and wondered what the “Preacher” was going too barbeque.  I had a wonderful day visiting with people from all over the County.  Even the radio station from Shenandoah, Iowa, was there and planned to interview the winning contestant.  The judge for the day was Mr. Jim Lightfoot.  As he came to sample my entry he looked over my entire grill set up and asked for a sample.  I will never forget his response.  His eyes began to water when he took a bite because the meat was so heavily spiced.  The cayenne pepper had been overloaded by mistake.  As the judged choked and coughed, I tasted a piece myself and realized my mistake.  I gave him a glass of iced tea and said, “Sorry, I think it is a little too hot.”  Then to my surprise he said, “Paul, (cough), you are the winner of the Fremont County Fair Barbeque Contest”.  With the proceeds from the winning entry I purchased enough steaks to feed the entire staff who worked with me at the Camp of the Risen Son a Church Camp earlier in the summer.  One more important fact about the barbecue contest – I was the only entry!  The people of Fremont County never forgot the “preacher” who won the cooking contest by giving the judge heartburn.   By the way, the judge for the County Fair later became a US Congressman.  I always thought that it was my cooking that helped him win the election in the coming years. 

     But there were also many times of tears that were filled with deep emotion.  Don and Nancy were so good to our young family.  Even though they were older than Janice and I, they readily adopted us and we became very close.  They had been Christians for about 5 years when we arrived at the Church and they were growing in their relationship with the Lord.  Spiritual things were important to them even though Don did not grow up in a Christian home.  Don’s father was a very successful farmer with an ever increasing determination for more land and higher yields.  Don and I prayed together many times for Albert.  He came to church a few times when there was a special program that involved his grandchildren.  I made a determined effort to see Albert from time to time and spoke highly of his son, always inviting him to come and visit at the next church service.  Albert never did visit on a Sunday morning. 

     Don called me early one morning and informed me that his father was in the hospital.  A heart attack in the night had summoned all the family together.  My thoughts were about Albert as I drove the 15 miles to the hospital. I asked God to give me the wisdom to have the right words to speak to him when I arrived.  It was one of those moments when a young minister just beginning his ministry doesn’t have years of experience to fall back on.  Standing outside Albert’s hospital door I took a deep breath and walked in.  Before I had a chance to say anything he recognized me and said, “Preacher, why are you here?  I am not dead yet!”  I was stunned by his words.  It took me so by surprise and I knew that Albert had meant what he said.  “Could I pray with you, Albert”? “No! I don’t need your prayers”!  As I left his room, my heart was broken over a heart so hardened that it seemed to be unreachable.

     In the following months, Albert recovered from his heart attack and began doing light work around his farm.  He continued in his stubbornness against the church and the Lord.  In the next year Albert and his wife were preparing to drive their new motor home on an extended vacation.  He had given specific orders to his farm laborers to destroy the beaver dam just over the knoll in preparation for expanding planting for the upcoming the coming season.  The trip was to last four weeks and he expected all the work to be done by the time he would return. 

    Albert could not stand to be away as the weeks passed by.  He told his wife that he wanted to go home early.  So after three weeks they returned home, one week earlier than expected.  Early the next morning Albert went out to see if the beaver dam had been taken care of.  To his surprise, it was still there.  He got out of his pickup and walked onto the dam itself to look the situation over.  At the same moment, not realizing that Albert had returned home one week early, the hired hands had gotten up earlier than Albert and had placed dynamite inside the dam.  They had wired the explosives to the detonator which had been placed protectively just over the little knoll at the beaver dam.  They had hunkered down to protect themselves from the blast when the charge was detonated. One of the laborers cried, “Fire In The hole!” and set off the charge. Albert lost his life in an instant.

     Don called me with the devastating news that his father was killed in a terrible accident.  He asked me if I would preach the funeral.  On the day of the funeral a large gathering of family and fellow farmers from all over
Southwest Iowa came to show their respect.   As I walked by Albert’s casket on my way to the pulpit his words spoken to me months before shouted again from the quietness of the moment, “Preacher, why are you here? I am not dead yet!” 

     I did my best to speak to the family and all those who gathered on that day.   But I will never forget the words that Albert spoke to me in the opening months of my ministry in Sidney, Iowa. 

     Words are important.  They affect the lives of our spouse, our children, our grandchildren and everyone we come in contact with on a daily basis.  Never let a day pass when there are important words to be spoken.  Do not overlook words that have eternal consequences.   We do not know when it will be too late.  Today make the courageous decisions that will influence others to follow Christ.  Be careful of the words that you use.   Eternal destiny is at stake.  

     Jesus says in Luke 14:34-35, “Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again?  It is fit neither for the soil nor for the manure pile; it is thrown out.  He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”  When Paul writes in Colossians 4:6 he reminds every one us, “Let your conversation (words) be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.”

     Are you seasoning the world with the words that you use?  It is not always a cooking contest where seasoning can be taken to an extreme.  It is not always a hospital room where words are etched in our minds.  Pray that your words will season others to walk closer to Christ.

Paul D. Sisson