Only a handful of people knew who Lettie Burd was; even to this day only a few know who she is. But many know or at least have heard of the name Mrs. Charles E. Cowman through the devotional book she compiled, Streams in the Desert. Lettie was married to Charles E. Cowman; felt called by God to be missionaries, they went to Bible School, then left for Japan in 1901. There they worked with a Japanese evangelist they met in Chicago, Juji Nakada. The three with Ernest Killbourne founded the Oriental Missionary Society.
Lettie and Charles did not stay long in Japan; in 1917 they returned to the US due to Charles’ failing health. For six years Lettie cared for him till he died. Out of these heart-breaking experiences came this devotional book that has been the best-selling devotional book for decades. But here’s something noteworthy: She published under her married name, Mrs. Charles E. Cowman; she didn’t even use her first name! Granted that it was common practice, then, but still, it shows her devotion to him. By using her married name, it’s as if she wanted us to know not only that he and she were one, but also that this book was written by the two of them. It’s their labor of love.
To me, her life, specifically her love and devotion, was a testament to the marriage vow we all utter: To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as we both shall live.
Let me end with what she writes in the opening of the book, “In the pathway of faith we come to learn that the Lord’s thoughts are not our thoughts, nor His ways our ways. Both in the physical and spiritual realm, great pressure means great power. Although circumstances may bring us into the place of death, that need not spell disaster—for if we trust in the Lord and wait patiently, that simply provides the occasion for the display of His almighty power.”
Pastor Paul
Next Sunday will be the last Sunday of the year! Yes, not month but year. I feel like I haven’t written enough of 2025, but now I’ll have to write a new year, 2026. I am sure we will look back on 2025 with mixed emotions; some will look back favorably, but some not so favorably. Some will look back and take a deep breath of relief, but some, sorrow. We wish we could skip 2025, too much pain! Some of us might wish that we could skip 2026, too much uncertainty! But some might wish that we could stay in 2025 forever, too much fun!
Times goes on, so does life. We can’t stop it, slow it down, or speed it up. I used to tell our children when they were around 5, 7, and 9, that if I could, I’d stop time; I wanted them to be 5, 7, and 9 forever. I knew that it’s a wistful thinking; it wasn’t going to happen. Now I am 66, I am back having the same wistful thinking toward the little men in our family: our grandchildren. I wish I could stop time and make them stay somewhere between the ages of four to ten. 😊
I wonder if that wistful thinking ever crossed the minds of Mary and Joseph, especially after they heard the prophecy made by Simeon that this Child would be, “a sign from God, but many will oppose Him.” And that, a sword would pierce her soul. Even though Mary didn’t have a clear understanding of what would happen to her Son but she got the picture. Her Son would suffer and she, too, would suffer. I wonder if after hearing the prophecy Mary would often break down in tears whenever she put Jesus to sleep or saw him sleep so peacefully. The sword had come and began piercing her.
With Her Blessed Son, Mary moved along. She did not even try to stop Her Beloved Son from carrying out His Heavenly Father’s will. She knew it was Heavenly Father’s will that she must obey, not her emotions. So, she let the sword pierce her soul over and over.
Pastor Paul
Patricius was just a 16-year-old boy when raiding Irish warriors took him from his native England. He was sold to an Irish chieftain who, then, sent him to shepherd his flocks. There in the hills, alone, he thought of the Christian God his parents believed in, and there he began to pray for strength to endure isolation, hunger, cold for six long years. One night he was awakened by a voice which told him that he was going home and that his ship was ready. He took it as God’s direction and set out for the sea and after walking for 200 miles, he found a ship bound for England. He settled down till one night he heard the voice of Jesus, telling him to return to Ireland. He entered seminary and returned to Ireland as a missionary. He was called Patrick. Because of his ministry, the Irish put away their pagan worship and by the early 600 AD, 700 monastic communities had been established in Scotland alone. Thanks to the work of these Irish missionaries, out of these monasteries, universities sprang up across Europe. All began with one man, one former slave.
One man made a difference in the lives of many, and it began with pain and isolation he suffered as a slave. It began with a prayer for help and strength; more importantly, it began with an obedience to follow the Lord’s direction. Going back to Ireland was unthinkable, it would bring back all the pain, but he obeyed. Did Patrick know how God would use him to bring about changes that would not only sweep through Ireland but also Europe and the world? No, he did not. But that’s the way God works, isn’t it? One person at a time.
Through one person, Jesus, the world has become a different place. From Him we learn to love and forgive; we learn to think of others and give to others. We learn to let go and trust God, to wait and not push our will. Because He came, the world has become a better place. May the world become a better place because we came.
Pastor Paul
Starting from today till the last Sunday of the month, we will shift our attention to Christmas-themed messages. I give the title of our new series, “His Name is Jesus.” I hope these messages will speak to us as we celebrate the first coming of Our Lord Jesus to the world. As I write this, my heart is heavy thinking about a colleague in the Bible school that I teach who is now in the hospital for Stage 4 lung cancer. He was diagnosed with metastatic lung cancer over five years ago but by the grace of God he’s remained relatively healthy. The last time Santy and I were in Malang in October, we still could have lunch together. In fact, it’s he who took us to the restaurant in his car. But now his condition is worsening and he’s in a lot of pain.
As I think about him and the Christmas message for today, I find a parallel theme. In His birth, Jesus the Son of God was reduced to a stable; in his sickness my colleague is reduced to a hospital room. God the Son who was free to roam the heavens was confined to a manger, fully dependent on His earthly mother, Mary, to care for Him. My colleague who’s free to travel to give lectures is tied to a hospital bed, completely reliant on medical staff to care for him. As Jesus was in the arms of Mary, His Blessed Mother, my colleague is in the arms of Jesus, His Blessed Lord, both helpless but secure.
We do not know how long Jesus stayed in the stable but each night He was there, He was with no one else but His mother and father. Each night became a silent night, but also a holy night, as the song says. It’s holy because the Son of God was there, lying in a manger. Each night when we are alone, when life becomes silent, remember the Son of God. Call on Him and ask Him to be in that stable with us, and to make that night a holy night. Life is not always swirling in a house; sometimes it puts us in a stable. When that happens, don’t push Him away; invite Him. He wouldn’t mind sharing a stable.
Pastor Paul
Dieter Zander was once arguably one of the best worship leaders in the country. He used to serve at Willow Creek Community Church in a suburb of Chicago, along with John Ortberg. In his book, Soul Keeping, Ortberg shares that the church had to literally stop singing certain songs when Zander led worship because some people on the balconies would jump up and down so vigorously that the engineers were afraid that the whole balcony would collapse.
One night while still in his forties, Zander suffered a massive stroke that six days later when he awoke, he could no longer talk or use his right hand. No more words, no more music. He left his ministerial post, he left the stage where thousands used to sing under his direction, for a room, in the back of a Trader Joe’s store. There, day after day, he’d break down boxes, collecting bruised fruit or any imperfect product to be delivered to the hungry.
However, instead of feeling bitter he remained grateful. In a letter to John Ortberg, he wrote “It is good that I work there. I am like that fruit. I am imperfect . . . . What should take three minutes to say is an hour of frustration. People lose patience with me. Aphasia means aloneness. But God hears me. My world is small and quiet, and slow and simple. No stage. No performance. More real. Good.”
A year after the stroke, Zander and his wife Val visited Ortberg and his wife Nancy. Before they left, he wrote on a small whiteboard John 21:18, “When you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” Below that verse, he added, “Good.” How could that be good? I asked. I don’t know the answer but this I do know: Only those who know that God is good can say that.
Pastor Paul
In his book, Run with the Horses, Pastor Eugene Peterson gives us a vivid illustration of prayer as commonly practiced. It’s like going to a restaurant with somebody where we’ll order food and drink from the waiter. At the end we might say thanks for a good meal or good service; and we might even leave gratuity. However, once we leave the restaurant, we will usually forget about the waiter. God is that waiter. For many of us, prayer is just a time when we place our so-called orders and make complaints about the quality of food or service rendered to us. We’ll not think about God till we pray again.
Eugene Peterson says that God is to be the person sitting across the table from us, the person we are dining with, someone who is dear to us and we cherish spending time with. God is to be that person whom we will keep in touch and plan on meeting again soon. He is the person we say thank you, not casually but sincerely, for being a good friend, for helping us in times of need, and for reminding us of our wrong. It is when we talk with God, “the world is not banished, but it is in the shadows, on the periphery.” Like when we are dining with someone special, everybody else in the restaurant becomes a shadow. That’s how prayer—and life with God—should be.
So many things come to mind whenever we think of Thanksgiving: our family, our work, our friends, our health, our church, etc. But there is one more thing that we should never neglect to remember: God’s grace. The older I am, the more aware I am of the grace of God. In his book, Knowing Christ Today, Dallas Willard defines grace broadly as “God acting in our lives to accomplish what we cannot do on our own.” Oh, how true! I am awed whenever I think of what He has done in my life: calling me, changing me, and trusting me to do something for Him. All are things I cannot do on my own; all happen because of God’s acting in my life: Grace. To Him I owe everything.
Pastor Paul
To encourage young folks who are struggling with directions in their lives, I sometimes share my journey from being someone who had no clue what I wanted to or could do, to becoming a counselor, and in the end, a pastor. Out of high school I did not know what I should choose as a major—I like psychology, but I was not too sure—until I took a psychology class, Personal Growth and Development, in my second year of college. Out of that class I knew what I wanted to be: a psychologist. I’d say, right there and then I found my calling.
In his book, The Strangest Way, Bishop Robert Barron quotes the work of James Hilman who came up with this idea that we are “born with the seeds who we are destined to become planted within us.” He adds, “The success or failure of one’s life is measured according to the development or frustration of these seeds.” Hilman calls this the acorn theory. Had I not followed through with this calling and nurtured this seed, I would have missed my calling, and most likely I would have been drifting through life aimlessly. I thank God for not only planting the seed in me, but also for giving me the opportunity to discover and nurture it. And most importantly, I thank God for entrusting me with His work that requires the use of this seed.
Many people grope through life not knowing the seeds planted in them. I can understand what it feels like because for a period, I also was in the same boat. But there was something else that happened around the time I found my seed. During one of the Bible Studies, Dan Bice, my mentor from Campus Crusade for Christ, explained to me the purpose of life: To bring glory to God. I still remember that moment of epiphany which brought not only clarity but also peace. If the purpose of life is to glorify God, the kind of work I do wouldn’t matter as much anymore. I could be a janitor and still bring glory to God. Right there and then I found my mission; for that I thank God.
Pastor Paul
Last week God called home a friend in ministry, Marojahan Sijabat. After ministry in Batu, Malang, he experienced acute abdominal pain; so, he was taken to a hospital in Malang, which subsequently sent him to a hospital in Surabaya. The doctors found abdominal blockage but before they could perform surgery, he suffered blood clot in his lungs. Within hours, he passed away. It all happened so quickly and so unexpectedly because despite the not-so-young age of 58, he’s in good health. God had another plan for him: to rest.
It's from Pastor Marojahan Sijabat that I learned about faith, about trusting God to provide for our needs. Years ago, when he informed the church that he was serving of his intention to quit, the deacons of the church did not take it too kindly. I am not a judge, so I’m not here to decide who’s right and who’s wrong; none of us is perfect. But there was something that happened, then, that I stored in my heart as a guiding principle. In short, the deacons told him that he’d have a bleak future in ministry. In response he told them that it was God, not men, who would take care of him and meet all his needs. He left the church, without knowing where to go next. But he’s right because till the day he died, God was faithful to him and his family. God provided for him and blessed his ministry beyond measure.
Early on in her ministry, Corrie ten Boom learned to trust God to provide for her personal and ministry’s needs. Instead of asking for money, she sometimes gave money. Whenever she felt called to go to a certain place, she’d ask the Lord to provide. She never asked for remuneration or even travel expenses. She always remembered the words of her sister Betsie while they were in Nazi’s concentration camp, “Corrie, we should never worry about money. God is willing to supply our every need.” And supply, He did! God calls, God leads and God supplies. That’s the story of every child of God, isn’t it?
Pastor Paul
On Tuesday evening our sister Vera called Santy and me to break the sad news that her father had suddenly passed away. She told us that just an hour prior, Benny, Vera’s husband, was still talking to her father over the phone. After the phone conversation, Vera’s father went to a nearby store and while there, he collapsed. Vera and Benny flew back to Jakarta last Thursday morning. We’ll pray for them and their family as they are grieving their deep loss.
For us Christians, death is like Sabbath. The word literally means “stop” so, it is usually translated “rest.” Sabbath, the seventh day of creation, became the concluding day, where God stopped His work of creating the universe therein. Life unfolds just like the six days of God’s creative work. It begins with Light and ends with Men. The light is Jesus where through Him we see God’s love and salvation, and Men, God’s most precious creation, is the object of His love. In between Light and Men, God fills our life with many things. That is life, isn’t it? And in the end, we reach the final day of rest, Sabbath.
In his book, An Unhurried Life, Alan Fadling has a chapter about rest and in it he shares his thought about Sabbath as “a day measured not by productivity but by relationship and worship,” to help us “remember and trust that life is given, not earned.” So true, isn’t it?
Too often we think of being productive whenever we think about living, don’t we? Sabbath reminds us that what’s truly important is relationship with others and worship to God, not productivity. And that is what we must fill our life with: Relationship and Worship.
Sabbath also serves as a reminder that life is given, not earned. We reach the seventh day because of God’s creative act; it is He who gives us the rest of the week and now it is He who gives us the rest. One day we’ll reach the Sabbath day, the day of rest from our labor.
Pastor Paul
This year we are celebrating our church’s 45-year anniversary. Like a person, each church has its own distinct quality that sets it apart from others, quality that’s usually imprinted early on by its founder. I am sure we can come up with a lot of qualities, but I’d say that the main characteristic of our church is welcoming. It’s a quality that’s best described the person and the ministry of the late pastor John Lim who, with Tante Barbara, started this church from the scratch.
I felt welcome when I first set foot on this church 47 years ago, and I felt welcome when I asked Pastor John Lim for a favor to use the church’s sanctuary for our wedding ceremony. Because we had no building of our own and were using the First Baptist Church, Temple City, Pastor John had to make the call to the pastor of the church to ask for permission for Santy and me to use it as our wedding venue. At the time we were not even attending this church; we’re already serving in another church! That’s how welcoming Pastor John was! Thank God, that welcoming spirit is still well and alive to this day.
To be welcoming, even to the point of going out of our way, is only possible if we have love, not the kind of love where we only love somebody if and when she is good or useful to us, but the kind of love that comes out of “a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith” (1 Timothy 1:5). That’s what I see in you; I see love that comes out of a pure heart, a good conscience, and a sincere faith. You are always ready to roll up your sleeves and help; you are always happy to share what you have without expecting anything in return; you’re ready to reach out and make somebody feel at home.
As your pastor I cannot ask for more; I can only say, thank you for making this church look like Jesus Our Lord. Thank you for showing the face of Jesus to everyone who walks in here. Happy anniversary!
Pastor Paul