Monday, January 14, 2013

MIAMI

Little Havana, Miami.
(Click on photos to enlarge.)
Two more days in Florida. I am trying to suck up as much glory as I can from the sun, the surf, and the green grass. Then, maybe, I can store it like a solar cell and draw on it when the snow flies back in the great white north, otherwise known as Pennsylvania.

On Friday, my friend Mary Ellen, an art director in the Miami area, took me to her old stomping grounds in the Big City. It was a gorgeous day, and I was thrilled to explore a city I'd never truly visited.

I had once set foot in Miami, but that was during part of a bicycle tour down the east coast of Florida back in 1982. Back then, I barely bicycled past the "Welcome to Miami" sign, and headed to the train station. Here, finally, was a real tour!

Mary Ellen in the restaurant known as "Versailles," in Little Havana, Miami.
All Cuban, all the time in Little Havana. Don't ask me what these dishes are called.
All I know is, Cuban coffee is delicious, and the perfect finish to a perfect meal.
Outside Versailles. It's a  famous restaurant, visited by presidents
and outspoken Bible scholars.
Inside an authentic Cuban cigar shop. In my hand is a package
of cigars I bought for Waylan, as thanks for all his hospitality.


I think this is Biscayne Bay.
Part of the Miami skyline.
A visit to the Hard Rock Cafe yields some treasures.









Along the walk at Bayside, the downtown shopping area.
Lots of cruises depart from Miami.
We strolled down South Miami Beach, where Mary Ellen
spent lots of time as a kid.
On the jetty.
Some skyline from the jetty.

He held still for me.
Driving along the South Beach clubs on Collins Avenue.

We had to hurry back so I could join Waylan and Regena, and their friends
Marc and Stacy at Saitos, a Japanese steakhouse. This was a going-away dinner for Marc,
who is moving from Waylan's branch of Crown Lift Trucks, to a branch in Texas.
Enjoying a drink outside Saitos.
Waylan does enjoy his cigars.
Regena and Stacy.
Marc Davidson.
Thank you Mary Ellen, and thank you Waylan and Regena, and Marc and Stacy, for all the fun and enjoyment I had this day. What a memorable day you all provided for me.

I did not spend a single dime of my own money all day, for no one would let me. God has been blessing me with good friends and good times here in South Florida. I have come a long way from holding a letter opener over my heart, back on the morning of October 9. June-December was one of the hardest periods of my life, emotionally and spiritually. God has granted me some times of respite since then, and this has sure been one of them. There are many storms in life, but also many ports where God gives us rest.

Because of them, and the people in them, we can go on.

© 2013 by Martin Zender

Sunday, January 13, 2013

SATURDAY MEETING, CORAL SPRINGS

Khian and Sanya
(Click on photos to enlarge.)

What a meeting yesterday. I was not feeling very energetic early in the day. I had been in Miami touring for several hours the day before (you will see photos and the story on this blog tomorrow), and then Waylan and Regena took me on a night out with friends; we talked and laughed in and out of a Japanese restaurant until close to midnight. I woke up the next morning at my usual 4:30, and that’s how things started Sunday, not to mention the flu-type issues vexing me all week. 

Nevertheless, when I sat down to connect spiritually with those gathered at 2 p.m. yesterday, nothing hindered the spirit or the sinews of the mouth. That’s generally what happens. Any kind of trouble disappears in light of the message, and the joy of communicating it. Twelve attended this South Florida Scripturefest. 

I spoke on my Catholic background; the condition of the world today; why I think these are the last days of the eon (“Many generations have thought they were the last generation; we are the only generation to be right”); the cross as the centerpiece of universal history; a brief history of Israel; the purpose of Jesus Christ on earth; the purpose of Christ Jesus in the heavens; an explanation of predestination; the call of Saul on the road to Damascus; the reality of the death of Christ; key differences between the gospels of the Circumcision and the Uncircumcision; the destinies of all those in attendance; the completion of the universe, in Christ.

I don't know how long I talked. It seemed short to me, but it may actually have been close to 90 minutes, which I never would have done on purpose. No one was moving, everyone was aggressively listening and letting things soothe them, so I let the good times roll.

Marie and Kate Horne; sisters
The brothers McNight: Jordan and Josh

Tonya and Ashley
Tonya and her husband Adam

Josh McKnight and Tim McClellan
Kate Horne and me. Kate was struggling with church back in 2001,
when she "happened upon" my book, How to Quit Church Without Quitting God,
at the Miami, FL, public library. That book changed her life. She has been
a great supporter of the ministry and a great friend, from that day to this.
Adam, Tonya and me.
Khian and Tanya say good-bye.

Mary Ellen heads out after a great time.
The Word went forth with power—thanks be to God. It was a complete success. Several people heard things they’d never heard before. Many people hung out afterward. So many thanks go to Waylan and Regena Dabbs, for opening their home and providing for the needs of the saints. Waylan and Regina have provided for all my needs here, and then some. I am in such good care.  

When everyone left, Waylan, Regena and I hit the hot tub with a little cognac and some white wine, conversing for at least ninety minutes under the dark Florida sky. Between the spiritual and emotional expenditures of the day, the heat of the tub, the kick of the cognac, and the warm, west wind, I barely made it to bed before sleep did its sweet thing to my surrendered frame. 

Grace and peace. It is all grace and peace, friends. Find one another. 

© 2013 by Martin Zender

Saturday, January 12, 2013

FACE-TO-FACE EVANGELISM, ARMED WITH PAUL’S MESSAGE

Brian, Collette, and Ryan
(Click on photo to enlarge.)

The visit here three days ago from Brian, Ryan, and Collette, again showed me the importance of gathering in intimate groups and talking things through. When questions are asked in person, and answered the same way, energy is sent and received. I am not saying spiritual power cannot be sent by other means, but I think personal contact brings many things home that may be lost in other translations (electronic, print, voice only, and so forth). This is why Paul traveled so much.

The discussion here was: Should we walk by perception, or by faith? That was the gist of it. Many people look for signs and miracles to the point that their faith depends on these things. I am not speaking of our visitors—though they had many questions concerning this—but of many in the so-called Pentecostal realms. Apparently, there are kingdom-type ministries going on in Africa, but I do not like to hear that the Africans are learning to rely on miracles, and to base their joy on seeing things. 

This “show me a sign” mentality is an Israel thing, pertaining to that earthly kingdom, which is on hold right now. I’m into Paul, and the heavenly realm, where such things don’t apply. They keynote of Paul’s message is grace, not performance; it’s faith, not perception. These are Paul’s words:

“For by faith are we walking, not by perception” (2 Corinthians 5:7).

If our walk, or our happiness in Christ, is based on perception, then it’s not based on faith. Simple enough. Seeing things requires no faith at all. Do we really want to recommend faithlessness? This is what we do when we depend, rely, and promote physical (that is, “seen”) manifestations of the spirit.

Just tell her about Paul, dude, and she'll be good to go.
I would rather take the Africans the message of Paul. The message of Paul is not a message requiring miracles. It is not a program where people learn to depend on miracles, or base their joy on seeing marvels. The message of Paul is not an insistence on being delivered from hardship. Concerning these things, here is the message of Paul, from Romans 8:35-37:

What shall be separating us from the love of God in Christ Jesus? Affliction, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? According as it is written that “On Thy account we are being put to death the whole day, We are reckoned as sheep for slaughter.” Nay! IN all these we are more than conquering through Him Who loves us.

Paul does not tell us how to be delivered out of affliction, distress, persecution, famine, or these other things. Rather, he tells us we are more than conquering in them. This is the key word of the passage: the “in” of the second-to-last line. Where deliverance ministries would measure conquering by how many of these things a person can get out of, Paul measures it exactly the opposite way. It says much about our confidence and faith in God when, in spite of these things, we still love, believe, and serve Him.

What is the greatest field for the manifestation of spiritual power today? Physical miracles? Nope. Rather, faith in the face of infirmity.

“Whenever I may be weak, then I am powerful” (2 Corinthians 12:10).

I enjoyed watching the realization of this truth dawning on the faces of our three visitors. The truth is that true power today is manifested in the spiritual fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, meekness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22).

Not a single mention of raising the dead.

© 2013 by Martin Zender

Friday, January 11, 2013

STEELER NATION, DISPLACED


(Before I get started on my rant of the day, stay tuned tomorrow for a detailed report on the three guests we received Wednesday from Sarasota; the spiritual discussion was so rich. Also, tomorrow afternoon is our big meeting here, which I’ll blog on Sunday. Less than an hour from now, I’m heading down to Miami with a woman named Mary Ellen, who will show me “Little Havana” and other sites of a city I’ve never explored. Plan on lots of photos from there, probably Monday. Okay, now I can relay to you something that has been weighing heavily upon my heart.)  

Back in western Pennsylvania, everyone is a Pittsburgh Steelers fan. It isn’t that I don’t like the Pittsburgh Steelers, it’s just that I’d come to despise them. I’m ambivalent now, but back in the day, growing up in Northeastern Ohio, my family rooted for the Cleveland Browns—especially my dad. The Browns and the Steelers were more rivalrous than cats and dogs (big cats, and mean dogs), so I used to hate everything about Pittsburgh, especially the fact that they won most the time. I used to think Terry Bradshaw was the ugliest man on earth, but couldn't deny he was the best quarterback on the very same planet.

Okay. I got it. You're Troy Polamalu.
I live two hours from Pittsburgh now, and the fans are as crazy as advertised. To me, the ultimate sign of nuthood (besides waving yellow bath towels) is wearing a Troy Polamalu jersey. It seems that every other person in western Pennsylvania owns one, including women and babies. Dogs, too. To what depths does humanity plunge, I wonder, when individuals, born of God, unique as snowflakes, surrender their identities to assume that of a person with womanish hair whose claim to fame is: he makes it extremely difficult for other people to catch footballs thrown them by quarterbacks not nearly as unlovely as Terry Bradshaw (which is all of them).

Get a life, dude.
This jersey thing irritates me, obviously. Something about the Steelers themselves has irritated me for years, though I’m mostly over it, thanks to the realization that God is going to eventually save them, too.

So I come to South Florida thinking: This is not only going to be a nice break from the Pennsylvania winter, but I’ll also be getting away from Steelers fans for awhile. What a refreshing change of pace.

Oh, shit.

Then what happens? I FIND MYSELF IN THE MIDDLE OF STEELERS NATION! WTF!? There is a whole fan base in this town, all Steelers-crazed. But that’s not the worst of it, oh no. If only. Waylan and Regena are gung-gung-ho for the men in yellow and black. Where does this leave me? Sucking my thumb.  

I know when I am beaten. I am a gracious man. As they say, if you can’t beat them, take your thumb from your mouth and join them. So: Go Steelers. Give me a Terrible Towel, and I’ll wave it. Turn on an NFL Sunday show with Terry Bradshaw commenting, and I’ll watch it.

I know when I'm beaten.
But if the cute little pooch, Zack, shows up tomorrow morning in a Troy Polamalu jersey, that's where I draw the line.

© 2013 by Martin Zender

Thursday, January 10, 2013

TO THE BEACH AND BEYOND


When you invite me to your home and say, “make yourself at home,” be prepared for me to do just that. After a day or so (or several hours) of trying to behave, I will begin my quest for chocolate. You will not notice this at first, because my mission will be one of stealth. It is not that I couldn’t simply ask you for chocolate and you would give it to me. It’s that stealthing your chocolate stash, slowly away, is far more satisfying and fun for me.

I will not take your candy bars, for that would be too obvious. With whole bars of candy, you are safe. The best thing I can find (the worst thing for you) is an open bag of chocolate morsels from the Hershey company. I prefer the semi-sweet variety, but I am expanding my repertoire. Milk chocolate will do, as will white—as I have discovered here.

Yesterday, in the pantry—what unbelievable luck! After rearranging only a few items, I located my Nirvana: an opened bag of Hershey morsels. These morsels were of the white variety—not my favorite, or so I thought. I forgot how good these things were! My intention was to only pour “a few” into my palm, and eat them one at a time, to make them last.

Times ten, and counting.
I succeeded. In fact, I have succeeded ten times.

I am succeeding at least two times a day.

I think Regena will probably read this blog, and the gig will be up. If she doesn’t read it, then on a day shortly after I leave, she will reach for the bag of white chocolate morsels for a favorite recipe (a recipe for which, no doubt, the morsels were intended), and find a mostly-eaten bag. At first she will think, we must have mice, but then she will be unable to reconcile this thought with the fact that mice do not generally replace the bag clip.

Eventually, the truth will come out—though not from me, of course. Eventually, a realization of the truth will hit Regena, as the truth of the salvation of all hit her in 2006. “It was Zender,” she will say. And by golly, she will be right.

I do not intend to finish the bag. (I am presently unaware of God’s intentions.) It is my plan to leave the family with maybe six or seven morsels. Considering the hospitality I’ve been shown here, it’s the least I can do. The other option is to eat every last morsel, and dispose of the bag by stealth. That way, the family may forget they ever even had a bag of Hershey white chocolate morsels.  

I think this would work on Waylan, for sure. But Regena? Ah—she is far too sharp for such shenanigans. 

                                                            *  *  *

Mornings here start with Waylan, Zack and me outside, watching the sun rise. What a marvelous pastime. I am soaking it up as much as I can, because I will be back in Pennsylvania on Tuesday, where it is a little bit colder, with fewer palm trees.

Waylan, Zack and me having coffee two mornings ago.
(Click photos to enlarge.)

One of the trees out back.
The little lake out here is its own zoological paradise. There are cranes, ducks, and turtles. Twice, Waylan has seen an alligator. Yesterday, an otter splashed around the opposite bank. This morning, some crazy crane was in the palm tree over my head, squawking his greeting. I said something nice back to him. He was a cute little crane. Some cranes are white, but this one was purple-ish. He seemed very proud of his plumage.

This morning, I was out by myself as the sun was coming up. 



                                                            
                                                              *  *  *

Two days ago, it was off to the beach! Waylan took me to Deerfield Beach, 11 miles from here. It has been five years since I have seen the Atlantic Ocean, and probably 15 years since I've jumped into it.

I had to keep telling myself that it was January 8. It was just kinda weird and unbelievable. I could get used to it, though. But then maybe that would be the problem: you get used to it. But Waylan still hasn't “gotten used to it,” in this sense. He is still thrilled, every day, about the beauty down here. We were sitting on our beach chairs watching the waves come in when Waylan turned to me and said, “Martin, I love the ocean.”

I gotta say, I like it myself.

(Click photos to enlarge.)
January frickin' 8th.





Waylan and I took to the water for thirty minutes of body-surfing. The air temperature was 82 degrees and the ocean temperature was 75, so it was no problem diving in, walking out, and riding some waves back in. Waylan says the ocean is much choppier in the winter, so we got pummeled by some impressive breakers. I swallowed about a quart of salt water (by accident), so hopefully that will help my throat.

Just before jumping into the surf.
Beach hair.
                                                            *  *  *

That night was the Skype broadcast to the church group in Faith, North Carolina. I’m not quite clear on every detail here, but Waylan used to belong to this church, or maybe he belonged to the church that was the bigger church before the teaching of the salvation of all, through Christ, broke through the door and thinned the ranks. Nevertheless, the pastor there, Alan Hess, is going great-guns teaching truth. Waylan was a big influence there, and occasionally he will teach this Tuesday night Bible group.

On Tuesday, it was the Zender broadcast. The Skype video connection was glitching, but the audio streamed perfectly. Waylan, Regina, and Josh and Ashley were here in Coral Springs for the broadcast, and there were about fifteen or so in attendance in Faith.

I spoke of the blessing, during this administration of grace, of believing without seeing. The Circumcision is all about works, signs, and miracles, whereas the gospel of the Uncircumcision is all about not seeing things, but rather being strong in the midst of infirmity, and conquering in spite of the disadvantages of flesh. In this era, what pleases God the most is faith. And what is faith? It is a conviction concerning matters which are not being observed (Hebrews 11:1). If you’re observing signs and miracles, it doesn’t require much faith. In fact, it doesn’t require any at all.

As for the fruit of the spirit, it is not raising the dead, seeing angels, hearing voices, or miraculously mending broken bones. Rather, it is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, meekness, gentleness, self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). These things are most effectively exercised and manifested in the face of evil, oppression, and fleshly disadvantage. For more on that, see Romans 8:35-39.

The message was very well-received, and Alan has invited me down (up, from here) to be a guest speaker. Amazingly, the Faith, NC church—teaching the salvation of all—brings in about sixty people Sunday mornings. Who knew?

Here is the first minute of my hour-long Skype talk:



Oh! We received three visitors yesterday, who drove across the state from Sarasota to meet me and ask some questions. We talked for over three hours around Waylan’s back patio table, and the topic of conversation was important as can be. I will tell you about it tomorrow. For a sneak preview, go to today’s “Zender Special 34” audio show, titled, “The Greatest Manifestation of Spiritual Power Today.” Here is the link:

http://martinzender.com/new_zender_sheridan/Zender_Special/zender34.htm

I was so sick while making that audio yesterday afternoon. I had chills and some breathing issues. I was trying to finish the message before I really fell apart. I couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and go to bed, which I did immediately after, at 5 p.m. But this message is a testimony, I think, of how power finds expression in weakness. 

Thank God, I'm feeling much better this morning.

Tomorrow I will show you photos of the three wonderful people who visited here yesterday, and will also tell you what I found here in south Florida that I thought I was escaping in western Pennsylvania. I could not believe my eyes when I saw it.

© 2012 by Martin Zender