Quarterly Journals - Shiloh Baptist Church

QUARTERLY JOURNAL

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He Comes To Us – In Spite Of Us

Posted on Dec 2, 2018 in Quarterly Journal | 2981

God is always doing something good in our lives. He answers our prayers. He bails us out, again and again. Then the next time a problem comes up, we act like God’s miracle never happened. How quickly we forget! When we can’t remember past blessings, we start fearing the future. We stop thinking that God can do it again, because we forget that He did it the first time. Spiritual vision is essential in the life of a Christian. Without clear vision, you lose hope. When you can’t see your way clearly it means you’ve lost your vision. We can hope back by seeing our lives from God’s eternal perspective.

This is the Gospel – that God doesn’t stand on the shoreline telling us what to do. He comes out to meet us where we are – in our pain – in our fears – in our discouragement. In spite of us – He comes to us!

“Then he saw them straining at rowing, for the wind was against them. Now about the fourth watch of the night He came to them, walking on the sea and would have passed them by.” – Matthew 6:48 NKJV

Submitted by Deaconess Irene Gardon

Dec '18

Christ Jesus: Our Moral Compass

Posted on Dec 2, 2018 in Quarterly Journal | 4360

Dec '18

“One generation shall commend your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts.” – Psalm 145:4

Not too long ago, like so many times before, we were out together for a meal, and I realized that we had every unit of the family in tow. It was me, my husband, my son, his wife and their three children, my daughter-in-law’s sister, my sister, her daughter, and her son. All together we had father, mother, sister, brother, aunt, nephew, grandmother, grandfather, cousin, and so on. I really didn’t think about it until the next day, when I was thinking how intricately God made the family, and how interdependent we are on one another. Every family has the same make-up, and I am encouraged when I think about what God had in mind when He made the family.

Every family has its own traditions; those things that are established in and by the family and set forth as the standard. They are born out of our experiences, as we interact, and they set the tone for the way we live. I think that our moral compass comes from how we’re raised, and that it is reflective of whom we come from. One day while leaving my office, on my way home from work, I noticed a piece of banana, on the sidewalk, dropped perhaps, by someone along the way. But I wondered why they didn’t stop and pick it up. Just a few feet away was a garbage can; but guess what? About an inch or two from the garbage can lay the banana peel. You think maybe they just missed the can when trying to throw it in? Hum, wonder.

Another time on my way to Church, driving behind someone who stopped at the stop sign, they threw their garbage out of the window, and kept going. How had these people been raised? Where was their moral compass? What had they been taught about respect, or another people’s property? I believe that as you sit around your mother’s table; or ride in the front seat of your daddy’s car; or spend the night at grandma’s house; or summer vacations with your cousins, all of these are situations that breed into us a sense of who we are, where we come from, and how we ought to live. I believe that the family unit is the training ground, and university for our matriculation. It’s the thread of who we are, how we began, and the conviction of who we be. It is the mandate of how we will end. I learned how to make a sweet potato pie from my mom. I learned how to walk into a room with my head up from my dad. I am learning compassion from my sister. I am teaching my daughter how to be submissive to her husband, and my son how to love his wife. I am learning to respect the authority of my husband from the Word of God. I learned devotion to Christ from my grandmother. I learned contentment from my mother’s father. And I experienced how to love unconditionally from my Uncle Rufus.

There is so much more to learn, and even more that I want to be able to share. Through Christ, the traditions in my family have made me who I am and given me a connection to Him. He has taught me that I can endure. He has taught me that family traditions are more than just empty rituals. Every household is different, but every family the same: created in Christ Jesus. What we teach, and what we learn in our families ought to reflect what we know about Him.

Submitted by Deaconess Irene Gardon

Dec '18

This Feels Like Home

Posted on Dec 2, 2018 in Quarterly Journal | 2640

Dec '18

“I will declare thy name…in the midst of the church.” – Hebrews 2:12

My conversion story is probably not unlike yours. I went to Church all throughout my youth. Participated in Easter Programs. Went to Sunday School. Learned Bible Verses. My father was a Deacon. My mother sang in the Gospel Choir and served a Nurse on the Nurses’ Ministry. We children would prepare for Sunday on Saturday night. That meant getting our hair done, laying out our best clothes, studying the Sunday School lessons, then getting to bed early, to be up on time for Sunday School and Church on Sunday Morning. There was no such thing as getting to Church late. Sunday School started at 9:30 am and we had to be there until afternoon service was over, and then would often go back for the evening worship. Baptized, I gave my life to Christ at an early age, and for years my Church-Life was the center of my life. But one day, and I don’t remember exactly when, going to church became less of a priority. My Sundays were crowded out by other seemingly more important things. It became the day to do my laundry; or clean the house; or just to rest. It became the day to recoup from the partying the night before. And at one point in my married life, it became the day that we spent on the ball field, where my husband was a star-pitcher. I don’t think I ever forgot what my Church-Life had been, it just didn’t seem important enough to fit it in. The time came in my early adult life when I had spent more time out of Church than I had spent in.

I remember one day that my children were singing Rap songs, and they knew every word, every pause, every beat of the song, and it dawned on me that they didn’t know any Bible Verses. I decided then, for their sake, and reflecting on my youth, that they needed to be in Church. Surely if they could memorize Rap songs, they could learn scriptures. So, one Easter Sunday, over 30 years ago, we visited the Shiloh Baptist Church; and like most of you when you came, sat in the back, probably the last two rows. You know, when you “come back” to Church, you want it to look like you never left, and what you don’t realize is that God uses that time past, those years of Church-Abstinence to draw you closer to Himself. So, we came, and we kept coming, and we kept inching, and inching more toward the Word, settling somewhere in the middle, until it felt like we belonged; that we were part of the Shiloh Church Family. And not just that, but a member of the Family of God.

It soon became evident that Jesus loved me, that He had never stopped; and it was all these many years (18) later, under the pastorate of Rev. Herman Washington, that I came to know the Lord Jesus in a way that I had never known-even in my youth. I came to know that regardless of what I’ve done, the Salvation I received at my conversion in my youth, was a sure foundation. There was no losing it. There was no earning it. There was no deserving it. I came to know, that even getting tired of my children’s Rap songs, was part of His plan for me. Even that was a way of Him getting my attention and changing my life. Being in the family of God is important, but it’s equally important to be in a place where you grow and feel like you belong-and for me and my family-this 112-year-old Church-feels like home!

Submitted by Deaconess Irene Gardon