FLYING AND ARRIVING: SACRAMENTO

Hello, everyone! Yesterday morning was a real rush to get the blog up and do the show before our 9:30 departure for the airport. Everything got done, and off we went.

(Click to enlarge photos.)

Traveling with Joe and Eddie is my idea of a good time. I remember back in Pennsylvania when I first saw the flight itinerary Joe sent me. It was so weird seeing my name along with the names JOE NEWMAN and EDDIE BELANGER, and thinking, I have never even met these guys, and here I am booked on a flight with them from Las Vegas to Sacramento. It seemed like a big blind date. But as is usually the case with members of the body of Christ, we three have been united by God’s invisible spirit, long before we'd even heard of each other. God knew us the whole time, and in His good timing we finally met. Now that we've met, we're brothers for life. I mean, when you go through airport security together—especially in Las Vegas—it bonds you for life.

We flew into Stockton, CA (the flight there was less expensive), and rented a car for the hour and fifteen minute drive to Sacramento. On the way, we ate at our favorite “on the road” food stop (Joe and Eddie have similar tastes): Subway.

Anita and Kevin Butler’s home is beautiful; neither of us are complaining that we’re spending three nights here. Part of Paul’s suffering for the evangel was that he spent a day and a night in a swamp. Well, this ain’t that.  

We enjoyed a pre-gathering last night, with Charles Rutsch arriving, as well as a saint named Eric, who moved to Sacramento from Southern California several months ago, and joined with the Sacramento ecclesia here which meets—on most occasions—at the home of Charles’ mom and dad, Gerhard and Jenny.

Anita Butler

Charles Rutsch and son, Anita, Kevin Butler with Charles' daughter; Eric, Eddie, Joe

Tomorrow, the meeting is here in Anita and Kevin’s living room.

Several people I've never met are coming to this meeting, which we're all looking forward to.  

I hope you are looking forward to it as well. I am happy that you, the reader, are traveling along with me on this trip. I wish you were here. Be encouraged that there are people who embrace the same truths as you. We are not alone, we are just scattered. If you met these people here—or those in Las Vegas—you would feel the same instant kinship I've felt with them.

May this knowledge encourage you during your oftentimes lonely walk.

© 2012 by Martin Zender

WEDNESDAY NIGHT MEETING

Last night’s meeting—the fourth in five days—was the most well-attended yet. Two new people joined the circle: Deb Basham and a guy named Mike.

Two days ago, I got an email from Allegra Leonard in Phoenix, Arizona, saying, “Please call my friend. She lives in Las Vegas, and she just found out you were there. She had no idea there was a group in Vegas. She is so lonely for fellowship!”

The friend’s name was Deb Basham. I called Deb and left a message, telling her where the meeting was on Wednesday night, and what time. I got a return message the next morning, and Deb wasn’t going to miss it.

Sure enough, here she came. The door opened, Deb threw her arms around my neck, and then did the same to everyone else. It was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen, watching Deb graft so naturally into the group. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have said she'd been coming here for years. People said, “Deb!” as though she were a long-lost relative. Before the meeting started, Deb and Melinda chatted away like sisters. Well, in Christ, they are—and always have been.

I spoke last night on the graduation, in the book of Acts, from flesh to spirit. The kingdom message starts strong for Israel with signs and miracles, then slowly disintegrates as Paul takes the stage. By the end of Paul’s ministry—which goes “from glory to glory”—fleshly signs give way to spiritual realities. “This is where we are today,” I said. “Nothing is more impressive now, spiritually, than people who believe God in spite of their experiences—in spite of being tried and disciplined by the very God they love and serve.”

In Romans, chapter 8, Paul tells us how nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus, promptly embarking upon a list of terrible trials. Then he says, “In all these things, we are more than conquering.” I emphasized the word in. "We don’t conquer by being delivered from these trials," I said, “but by enduring them through the power of grace, and in the knowledge that the trials are fitting us for a celestial kingdom.”

As great as the other meetings were, this felt to me like the best one yet. I felt so much a part of a family, as did everyone else.

Deb was just thrilled. At one point, she had tears in her eyes. “I have been alone in what I believe since 1999,” she said. “You don’t know what finding this fellowship means to me.”

These meetings have been the catalyst that has brought Rick Kovatch and Deb Basham to a group of loving saints they did not even know existed. Rick joked last night, saying, “Now you’re stuck with me.” Joe said, “You’re stuck with us.”

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In about four hours, Joe, Eddie and I fly out to Stockton, CA, where we will rent a car and drive to Sacramento. We are staying at the home of Anita Butler, where the meeting is also, on Saturday.

(For meeting details, call Anita Butler at 916-524-1080.)

I have enjoyed my mornings here. I’m back at the kitchen bar, of course, working on this blog. My body finally surrendered to sleep yesterday morning; I did not wake up until 6:15. My morning routine has been pleasant. I come down here, raid the fridge for fruit, then start on the blog. Sophia comes down for work at about a quarter ‘til seven, makes us tea, and we have a nice chat. About a half hour later, Joe comes down and makes coffee, and we end up having impromptu Bible studies for at least an hour. Yesterday morning, Sophia came home early, and Joe, Sophia, Melinda and I talked for three hours.

I’m already going to miss my morning routine here, just as I missed my Pennsylvania routine when I came to Las Vegas, and just as I will miss my Sacramento routine when I leave there on Sunday. I will have one more evening and morning here (Sunday night, Monday morning), before flying back to Pittsburgh on the 24th.

It is currently 6:45. I will hurry and post this blog, then get a show recorded before 8:30.

I don’t know if I’ve ever been busier in the evangel than I have been here, these past six days. I have loved every minute of it. It has been taxing at times, but when you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing on this planet, every rhyme has reason. 

We will talk again from Sacramento.  

© 2012 by Martin Zender

VERY MUCH SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE OF NOT MUCH AT ALL

Yesterday was the big day; the Newman Family (Joe, Melinda, Matthew, and Hannah) took me to The Strip. I could have wandered up, down, and within those glittering arteries, for days—or at least for weeks. Beauty moves me; why not let it submit its product? Why not admit to its successes? I appreciate the conglomerate efforts of men and women—given eyes for beauty by God—putting tools and visions to work in a city that makes, for me, a breathtaking merger of peace (there is peace in falling water), and plants, and reflecting pools, and wonderwheels, and statuary reminiscent (in Caesar’s Palace, particularly), of a) a better era, b) strength, c) the Renaissance, d) a time when the citizens feared volcanoes. 

(Off we go now, to the lobby and mall of the Bellagio Hotel):

How many of our fellow men and women think to build life-sized polar bears of living, white flowers? (Not many; the rest of us merely gape at the artistry.) I thank God for caring people whose task on this earth is treating us lesser beings (whose eyes nevertheless seek respite from pain, death, decay) to snippets of otherworldly invention. I thank God, also, for those blenders and blowers of colored glass (masters of multiple arts); glass that somehow sits and moves simultaneously, making me see God. 

I cannot do any of this, with either flowers or glass. 

Other talented inventors hang Christmas ornaments the size of school buses from the ceiling, to the point that the point at the end of the ornament points leads eager eyes to the snow below, where mothers and fathers hug bundled children who, thank God, are not being shot. 

Las Vegas is a happy place where female beauty (the result, too, of artistry: the divine variety) gets fair display. What I love so much about Las Vegas is the absence of hypocrisy. If it is hypocrisy you desire, please visit one of the many denominational churches outside town. For beauty, peace, fun, and love, however, head to the Jewel of the Desert, shining very much somewhere in the middle of not much at all.   

(Click photos to enlarge.)

Outside Caesar's Palace

Inside The Mirage

Look at me, I'm the Fifth Beatle

At The Forum Shops in Caesar's Palace

Erupting volcano in front of The Mirage. (It's a mirage.)

Joe treated us to a wonderful dinner at Mon Ami Gabi,
across from The Bellagio. Thank you, Joe!

The mall at The Bellagio

Beautiful painting at one of the galleries.

 © 2012 by Martin Zender

GLORY MEETING IN THE DESERT

I slept until 5 o’clock this morning—great progress.

I do not actually sleep with the giant pink pillow in bulbous tennis shoes shaped like a heart with the jolly disposition (I know you have been wondering), but I do lean it against the wall opposite the foot of the bed where I can fellowship with it should the nights wax lonely. Loneliness is, so far, deferred, for each night passes (short as the nights may be) without my awareness. I have been so exhausted I cannot even remember—on any given night—closing my eyes.  

By the time I get adjusted to Pacific Time, I will be back East.

I worked out yesterday at YMCA on Durango Street, and so did the Newmans. I am a member of the Y in Johnstown, PA, where I go five days a week for my dose of uphill treadmill sprints, indoor track running, resistance training, and swimming. With my Johnstown membership, I get ten free visits to any Y in the country. While Joe and Matthew played basketball, Melinda and Hannah and I hit the treadmills.

I showed Melinda how to do the uphill sprints, and for how long. I told her it’s better to exercise smart, than long. “It’s all about stressing the body for limited periods of time, followed by rest,” I told her. I think she may have hated me for that at first—sweating, breathing hard, finding out how long 15 seconds can be—but in the end, she saw the benefit of doing it right and getting it over with.

We then went to the weight room and I showed her my “Power of 10” routine: slow, controlled, concentrated reps (no more than six), with heavy weight. The concept is to bring the muscle to failure in the shortest period of time, and then push against the failure for one or two seconds before lowering the weight at the same slow speed. This eliminates repetitive sets, which I’ve always hated. This way, you do one set of very few reps, and you’re done. Melinda said, “I like this method!” Me, too.

We finished our Y time with a basketball game: Matthew and me versus  Hannah and Joe; playing to ten by ones. I guarded Joe. Matthew kept letting Hannah get open in the perimeter, not believing his sister could hit from there. Problem: Hannah kept hitting from there. We tightened up the D, and it came down to a 9-9 tie; next basket wins. I took the ball out, passed to Matthew, who passed back to me; I dribbled twice, then found Matthew cutting underneath. I passed, he shot, scored—and we sure enjoyed our time at the Y.

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Broadcasting the Martin Zender Show from my Las Vegas studio,
otherwise known as Hanna's room. Eat your heat out, Don Imus.
(Click to enlarge.)

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The meeting last night was the third in three days, and glory-laden. We discussed our identity with Christ. Where Christ is—seated at the right hand of God—is where we shall be. What did we do to attain this position? Nothing. What did Christ do? Everything.

I took us to Romans, chapter 6, highlighting the “togethers” of that passage: entombed together with Him, our old nature crucified together with Him, being roused together with Him. God identifies us with Christ in the bad side of the equation, but also in the good.

How gracious of God to say we were crucified with Christ, without us having to actually be nailed to that horrible post. I told the saints: here we were, sitting on living room chairs in a pleasant neighborhood in a pleasant city, reading how God said we were crucified with His Son, baptized into His death, and entombed with Him. What did we actually do? Nothing. We had not even been born. Where were we now? Sitting on comfortable chairs in Las Vegas. And yet, to God, we were there on the torture stake. To Christ, we were there. (Because of this, we will be together with Him in resurrection also.)

Picture Christ, the loneliest creature in the universe that day. A survival technique, for Him, was to picture us. He did this in His mind’s eye. In His mind’s eye, we shared His convulsions and helped Him through them. He thought of us, without actually knowing us. This sustained Him, even before we existed. He knew how thankful we would someday be.

The crucifixion was not ours to taste. Not so the glory. When it comes to the glory, the sweetness runs down our throats. How is this a bad deal for any of us? I asked. We were not even alive during the six hours of torture, yet God considered us present. Then, when glory time comes (the manifestation of Christ to the universe), He waits for us, and shares with us—in person—the glorious outcome.  

I was stunned—and am continually, but especially last night—by the generosity and graciousness of Christ. As the necessary torture was imputed to us apart from our experience, so the coming glory might have been thusly imputed, for a perfect parallel. But no. Screw parallels, says God. The suffering happens apart from us, the glory patiently waits for us. Christ brings us to heaven to personally taste His reward.  

(Click to enlarge.)

“Now if we died together with Christ, we believe that we shall be living together with Him also” (Romans 6:8).

The “died together” is past; the “living together” is future. For the present, Paul prays that we come to a realization of this. This is my prayer for you, the reader, and it was my prayer last night for the saints, that we should attain to the unity of the faith and of the realization of the son of God, to a mature man, to the measure of the stature of the complement of the Christ.

Later today, we go to The Strip.

© 2012 by Martin Zender