Student of the Week: Logan Ruzic

"You know what's amazing?" I stopped what I was doing and looked up at the 9-year old pensively studying the picture of the world in his hands. "The earth is round...right?... The people on the bottom and sides don't fall off."

Ah, to marvel like a child...

The originator of this quote and our student of the week is Logan Ruzic. On Wednesday nights before church, I get to hang out with Logan. We play kickball, build dams, track any number of creatures (birds, lizzards, worms, etc.), and invent new designs for paper airplanes. In everything Logan does, life spills out of him. And as the statement at the beginning of this post illustrates, Logan is just as full of insight as he is adventure. He sees the world with wide-eyed wonder and is teaching me to do the same. Thanks Logan, for teaching me to marvel and filling me with abundant life.

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Here's an interview I recently had with Logan:

What are some of your favorite things to do?
play sports

What are some of your favorite sports?
kickball, football, wrestling

If you discovered a planet, what would you name it?
I don't really know because it depends on what it looks like and how big it is and stuff like that.

What if it was a big planet?
Planet Bigster

What if it was really small?
Smallter

What if it was on fire?
That would be pretty much like the sun, so I would call it "Sun."

What's your favorite food?
Cornish Hen

If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you like to go and why?
I used to want to go to Africa, but now I want to go to Egypt so I can dig up some gold and rubies and stuff like that.

What's your favorite song?
It's by Jason Gray, on his first CD All The Lovely Losers #7, "I'm Not Going Down"

What was the last book you read?
Jigsaw Jones Private Eye: The Case of the Christmas Snowman. It has 74 pages.

What's your favorite word?
I don't know what the word is, but it's this big science word that has 2,000 some letters in it. It looks like a paragraph, and it's the longest word in history.

What's your favorite Bible story?
the story of the 10 plagues

The Greatest

They all saw the basin. It sat quietly in a corner, as the disciples vied for chief seats.

"I call dibs next to Jesus," Simon the Zealot cried out.

"Hey, we already called those seats!" exclaimed James and John in unison.

"No you didn't. your mom did, and besides, if we're recalling firsts, I believe I was the first disciple that Jesus called," Andrew was quick to point out.

"Well, first is worst and second is best. Jesus told me that I was the rock upon which he was going to build his church."

"Yeah, Pete, but he also called you Satan. I think that cancels out the whole 'rock' thing."

"But I walked on water," Peter said defending himself.

"Okay, so maybe I was wrong. You were a rock; at least you sunk like one!"

"Very funny, I don't recall you standing next to Jesus when his face was transfigured and he talked with Elijah and Moses."

"Well, I hate to burst your bubble, brother, but you would have never even known Jesus had I not taken you to him. And speaking of taking things to Jesus...who was it that brought to him the boy with five loaves and two fish? Five thousand people were fed because of what I did."

"Jesus turned to me when he wanted to know where we would find bread for all the people to eat," Phillip said, joining in the argument.

"Don't kid yourselves. If you guys wouldn't have been there, we all know that Jesus could have rained down bread from heaven. He could have turned stones to bread if he wanted. Greatness isn't measured by what you do, but by what Jesus says of you. When Jesus saw me, he said, 'Here is a true Israelite, in whom there is nothing false.' Boy, he sure did know what he was talking about," Nathanael interjected.

"If we're discussing names, it should be pointed out that we're called the 'Sons of Thunder.' Now that is a name that resounds with greatness."

"Yeah, but did Jesus ever eat dinner at your house with all your friends?"

"There's no way I'm letting a tax collector in above me. You may be use to handling people's money, but Jesus wasn't about to let some swindling tax collector be his treasurer. He entrusted that job to one who was a dependable steward of money, like me." With that, Iscariot, took the chief seat at Jesus' right hand.

As they elbowed and shoved their way to the front, Jesus slowly walked toward the basin. With the soft murmer of the disciples' argument echoing about the room, Jesus took off his outer clothes, wrapped a towel around his waist, and poured water into the basin. The room fell silent. One-by-one, the Lord washed his disciples' filthy feet. They all saw the basin, but only one took up the towel.

Shooting Arrows

When I teach, I am an archer, shooting words like arrows in hopes that one will strike home. But sometimes none do. The words whiz over the heads of their intended targets. I fire one sentence after another. "The Israelites spread the blood of the lamb over the doorway," I say. And kids rustle in their seats. So I fire again, "It was the blood from a perfect, spotless lamb." Blank stares. Better fire from a different angle, "Jesus was called the lamb of God." There's a hint of recognition, so I continue, "When the blood of the lamb covered the doorway to the house, Death could not enter." Slowly a child on the front row raises his hand. "This is it," I think. My heart starts to rise, "Yes?..." "What time do we get out of here?" My heart plummets. At this point, my supply is depleted, and I walk away from the class time without any indication that the word of God penetrated to dividing soul and Spirit, joints and marrow.

But every once in a while, an arrow pricks a child's heart. Last Wednesday night happened to be one of those times.

We were watching a video clip from The Visual Bible: Matthew in which Jesus heals a leper (Mt. 8:2-4). The scene starts with the leper approaching Jesus. He falls down on his knees and cries out, "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean." The disciples reflexively cover their faces and turn away in order to avoid contamination. But Jesus walks toward the leper. The disciples look on in bewilderment as Jesus unwraps the bandages and gently touches the man's face, "I am willing. Be clean!" At that moment, with Jesus' touch, the leper is healed.

The video clip ended, and I began to explain to the class that Jesus used his hands to welcome those whom no one else would. He touched mud to a blind sinner's eyes. He ate with tax collectors. He blessed children. He washed his disciple's dirty feet. Jesus touched the sick, the dirty, and the unclean. I was about to move on when a young boy's voice stopped me. Our eyes met, and he asked, "Why would he do that?"

The question hung in the air suspended by the silence that filled the room. The rest of the students scooted to the edge of their seats, and I knew this boy had spoken their hearts' longing as well. The class was a silent chorus pleading, "Tell us it's true." The arrow had penetrated.

So I told them. I told them that the reason Jesus welcomed these outcasts was because He loved them; God loves them. Jesus was sad they were sick and shunned. He wanted them to be made whole and well. And it was His touch that brought this healing. It was His touch that made the polluted, pure. And it is His touch that will make us clean, as well. It's true. And in that moment, with 40 kids leaning in, the arrow pierced my own heart as well. It is true, and I believed it.

But maybe I am more of a gardener than an archer. This isn't just a hit-or-miss operation. I till soil, plant seeds, water the earth, and pull weeds. Sometimes I get a glimpse of green sprouting from the soil. Sometimes I see the fruit of my labor. But mostly, I wait. With dirt under my fingernails and sweat on my brow, I pray for a bountiful harvest. And all the while, the Sun is shining down, beckoning to the seed, calling it to Himself.

"So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow" (1 Cor. 3:7).

Student of the Week: Caleb Cook

Our student of the week is Caleb Cook. Caleb is 7 years old and is in the 1st grade. This past Sunday, I had the honor of taking Caleb's confession before the congregation, as Caleb's dad baptized him into Christ.

When I asked Becky (Caleb's Wednesday night teacher) to describe him, she used the words attentive and lively. These two adjectives may not seem like they fit together, but I think they describe Caleb perfectly. He's excited, enthusiastic, and lively while at the same time being an engaged and attentive listener.

Whether it's acting out a Bible story, designing a wedding dress out of toilet paper, or making up actions for the memory verse, Caleb's the first to volunteer and participates without fear of what others might think. He is always willing to try new things, and as Caleb's dance performance during the Fall Festival illustrates, he is not intimidated by a crowd. Here's how Nancy (Caleb's small group leader) puts it,

"Caleb is always eager and willing to try, always participating in class. Even if he isn't sure, he takes that step of faith rather than staying back because he's afraid of being wrong. As adults, we can learn a lot from that childlike faith."

Thank you, Caleb, for showing me faith without fear. Your contagious enthusiasm makes you a joy to have in class.

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Wednesday night, I sat down with Caleb and asked him a few questions. He informed me that he had never been interviewed before, so I bring to you an exclusive, first-time interview with Caleb Cook:

What are some of your favorite things to do?

A: read chapter books, tv

What do you want to be when you grow up?

A: a dancer

If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?

A: to my Memaw and Papa's house, because I love them

If you had a time machine, to which time period would you travel?

A: to when my Papa was born

If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

A: to fly, so I could see things that are far away

How do you show Christ to someone who is not a Christian?

A: by hugging them

Eric Peters Concert Review

Last week, singer-songwriter Eric Peters came to our church. On Wednesday night, he was kind enough to play a few songs for the kids and read from his epic space novella, The Revenge of the Birds. He was even brave enough to face a barrage of questions from K-5th graders...Questions like, "What's the worse song you have ever written? Can you play it for us?" and "I've been to Texas."

The next evening, after a day of scavenging the local bookstores, Eric came back for an all-church concert. With guitar in hand, charango in tow, and a harmonica to boot, Eric began to weave a tale. And imbedded in the fabric of this story was the promise, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."

He told his own story. He read from his childhood diary and we were transposed into the mind of a child. He sang of his wife in songs like, "Sad to Watch You Wave" and "May Your Tenderness." He gave a benediction to his sons in the song, "I Will Go with You." He sang of his own struggles, disillusionment, and hope in songs like "Reality Came Crashing Down" and "Old Year of Denial." And rising like a steady drumbeat was the guarantee "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."

He told the stories of others. With a smirk and a wink, he sang of a race horse with an identity complex. Cloaked in the fur-covered garments of Jacob, he told of a conman who was blessed. Donning the rust of an abandoned bicycle, he told of his desire to be reclaimed. And sporting the skittish feet of a rabbit, he told of his longing for a place of rest. The drum beat drew ever nearer, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."

He told my own story. There is a quote by Frederick Buechner inside the cover of Eric's latest CD that says, "The story of any one of us is in some measure the story of us all." In the stories Eric told, I found my own story of fear and faith, displacement and hope, anxiety and trust. My own struggle to love and be loved was reflected back to me in the words, "I thought love was a weapon to conquer and wield but love turned out humble and it still conquers me." And I surrendered with the realization that, "little by little it's becoming all I need." Rattling the bones of my own story is the pounding promise, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."

For those interested, here's the set list for the night:

• "You Come Over Me"
• "Little by Little Things"
• "Chrome"
• "Run Down"
• "Reality Came Crashing Down"
• "Old Year of Denial"
• "I Will Go with You"
• "Sad to Watch You Wave"
• "Waterloo"
• "Son of Laughter"
• "Squeeze"
• "You Can be Yourself"
• "May Your Tenderness"

Thank you to everyone who came out for the show. I hope you left with the assurance that you are never alone.

Memory Verse: Isaiah 42:6-10

On Wednesday nights, the 3rd-5th graders have been memorizing Isaiah 42:6-10. Last Thursday, nine students bravely stood before a crowd of 100 people and recited these verses. Great job Anna, Ian, Jacob, Jason, Kaylin, Marissa, Morgan, Rachel, and Sierra! The date for ice skating has been set for Sunday, April 25th.

Bound (Part 1)

I wear chains. You may not see them, but they are there. I desire to be a servant of Christ, but am entrapped by a cruel task master. Just when I think I have broken free from his command, I find myself, once again, submitting to his incessant decrees. I am enslaved to the approval of others.

I first recognized my bondage in Jr. High. Through wearing the right clothes, saying the right things, and associating with the right people, I struggled to fit in with the fashionable few. Leaving my elementary friends, I set out in pursuit of popularity. The social barometer was the lunch table, and I would not be content until eating with the "in" crowd. In this failed attempt to find significance, my chains were clearly visible.

Bearing the burden of my bonds, I entered high school. At a youth event the summer before my sophomore year, I met a family who would change my priorities. These were a peculiar people. They didn't care about attire or outward appearance. Their language was not tattered by gossip or meaningless chatter, but was filled with gentleness, grace, and kindness. As I spent more time with them, I realized the foolishness of chasing the chaff of popularity. For a moment, it felt as if my shackles had been loosed. Yet even as the size of my audience grew smaller, I continued to perform: choosing the words my character would speak, emotions she would express, and insights she would reveal. In the midst of becoming a respectable person, I felt the cold clasp of chains.

In time, I graduated high school. The transition to college brought new people and new expectations. In an effort not to disappoint others, I worked, studied, and practiced with vigor. My performance was directly tied to how I viewed myself. When I performed well, I felt good. When I performed poorly, I felt shame. My aim was to avoid shame through the means of excellence. My bonds became a burden disguised in the cloak of discipline. However, in the midst of my chase fueled by bad motives, God continued to reveal Himself to me. As I listened to lectures, completed assigned reading, wrote papers, and studied for tests, I contacted a God of love. Growing in acceptance of His love, I learned to cast aside my chains. Yet, they lingered.

I am now a children's minister. Shortly after my first year of planning for Wednesday nights, someone came to me with criticism. After she left, I cried, and as tears streamed down my face, I felt the cold clasp of chains. Lest, you begin to feel sorry for me, I better tell you that this criticism was countered with praise as I received letters in the mail, balloons in my office, and spoken words of appreciation. Ironically, the more praise I receive, the more I crave. In my quest for one more word of approval, I trip over my chains.

"Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ" (Gal. 1:0). When will I find release? "But now, by dying to what once bound us, we have been released from the law so that we serve in the new way of the Spirit" (Rom. 7:6). I will always be bound, but it is my choice as to who is my master. Will I serve God, or man? As Kenneth Boa writes in his book, Conformed to His Image, "The more we are concerned with what God thinks of us, the less we will be worried about what others think of us. And when we are no longer enslaved to people's opinions of us, we are free to love and serve them as Christ loves us - with no strings attached."

Lord, help me to accept your love. "Set me free from my prison that I may praise your name" (Ps. 142:7).