The amazing ladies of Peace Class

In 1988 Shiloh Christian School in Sierra Vista had its largest graduating class ever.  The 25 students had mostly been together since elementary school, and had forged strong brother-sister bonds.  Known as Peace Class, this may have been one of the most talented groups of young people I have ever taught.  In March of this year, five of the Peace Class sisters reunited for the wedding of Angela Tumpkin, who was Head Girl in her senior year.  

From left to right, they are Tamra Fowler, the sister of the groom (not a Peace Classer), Angela Tumpkin, Tiffany Taylor, Sabrina Gidley, and Pamela Hoston.  These talented ladies have served the Lord in children's ministry, music ministry, nursing, school administration, church administration, audio-visual ministry, sacred dance, short term missions, and elementary. secondary, and post-secondary teaching.  Three of them are now raising their own covenant children.

May the Lord continue to bless the adventures He has set them on!  

A little more history

(Part two of "Why a Baptist boy became Presbyterian")

Where it all began for me  -
FIrst Baptist Church,
Cartersville, Georgia

The truth is...there were several other theological and ecclesiastical wanderings between the church of my youth and the church of my present. 



The post-Southern Baptist period actually began when I was drafted into the army.  Without going into the details here, I'll just say that for the first time in my heretofore parochial life, I met real Christians from a vast variety of denominational backgrounds.  I also met some not-so-impressive individuals claiming to be Baptists (or whatever).  It probably destroyed my categories forever.  During the next twenty or so years I wandered in and out of various faith groups, mostly non-denominational and charismatic.

As far as doctrine and Biblical interpetation went, these groups were still of the more or less "do-it-yourself" variety, just what I had been trained to expect and admire in my Southern Baptist upbringing.  Although sincere and Bible-believing, none of these groups put a lot of stock in "formal" study.  I remember hearing the phrase "systematic theology" a few times and wondering what it meant, but no one else seemed interested. 

Two peculiar incidents stand out among the myriad of spiritual experiences I had during those years.  The first was stumbling across the writings of Francis Schaeffer while I was in the army.  I knew he was "on to something" (Little did I realize at the time that he was a PCA member), but I could not find anyone else who was as much energized by his writings as I was.  Lacking anyone to discuss him with, I relegated him and his thinking to the "curiosity" category, and went on reading the "inspirational" writers that my leaders were promoting.


Sullivan Barracks Chapel,
Mannheim, Germany

The second peculiarity was a Bible study in our military chapel that did a bad job of exegeting certain Bible passages to support a conclusion that contradicts "perseverance of the saints."  Of course, I didn't know that phrase as point five of Calvinism at the time, but when Calvinism was finally explained to me many years later, I immediately dismissed any serious consideration because of that one night of bad teaching.

In the midst of busy and (mostly) pleasant church life during these years, there was always the sneaking suspicion in the back of my mind that I might be missing something.  So steeped was I in Baptist "Separatism" and charismatic "spiritual superiority," however,  that I was quite sure that if there were more to the thoughtful Christian life, it could not be found in one of those older denominations.  Those churches, we had resolutely written off as "dead" and beyond hope of resuscitation.

The wild card in this saga of "protectionism" against historic Christianity was the fact that I was engaged in Christian education throughout these years.  While most of the Christian schooling world's thought and ethos during the seventies and eighties was guided by Baptist thinking and principles, there were lots of co-belligerants from other theological backgrounds (even we charismatics had to be careful around the strictest Baptist educators to avoid being stigmatized).  After all, we had plenty of common enemies - the World Council of Churches, political and religious liberals, Biblical modernists, etc.  In fact, with all this in common we generally got along quite well - we charismatics, Nazarenes, Baptists, Assemblies of God types, and non-denominational Bible churchers.

 At some point during this period of time I encountered those "Dutch Reformed" schools who were members of Christian Schools International.  I remember thinking it was peculiar that members of that association had to sign a statement of faith that was slightly different from the standard "evangelical" statement of faith that most Christian schools, missionary groups, and para-church ministries always use to position themselves theologically.  The CSI statement of faith actually used the word "Calvinism" in its requirements, something I regarded as quite odd as a basis or test of doctrinal orthodoxy.  And because of the prior army experience, I believed it was something I couldn't agree to.   So I just put it (and their schools) out of my mind.

Enter the classical Christian education movement.  In 1991, while a graduate student at University of Arizona, I was reading every book on education that I could find.  Somewhere I got hold of the recently published Recovering the Lost Tools of Learning by Douglas Wilson.  When I was about halfway through the book, I looked up at my wife Linda and said, "Because of this book, I will never teach the same again!"  At the end of the book was the statement, "For more information and materials about classical Christian education, call this number."

I rushed to dial the number on the last page of the book, and imagine my surprise when the voice at the other end of the line said, "This is Doug Wilson."  "Well," I said, "I just finished your book and I'm calling for more information and materials."  After a chuckle at the other end, I figured out that I may have been the first one to call.  "When we put that statement in there," Wilson explained, "We were thinking way off in the future."  We don't really have anything to offer you right now..." he went on.  Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "...except maybe a subscription to our church magazine.  How about that?"   "Sure,"  I replied without much enthusiasm - or expectation.  Little did I know how much this would change my life.

After the first three issues, I came to several conclusions about the magazine, Credenda Agenda, and the church, Community Evangelical Fellowship of Moscow, Idaho (now known as Christ Church).

1. These people were not "stealth Calvinists," or "Cradle Calvinists;" they were "cage stage" Calvinists with an agenda!

2.  These people had read all the authors I had thought about, but never read.

3.  These people spoke about theology in a manner that made it really matter - and I felt terribly inadequate.

The arrival of each issue provoked a "love/hate" response in me.  On the one side, one is always tempted to feel that anyone who knows more than you do must, of necessity, be arrogant.  But I knew better.  There was not an ounce of condescension in what they wrote.  Well, maybe some well-deserved ridicule of evangelical silliness, when appropriate.  But not nearly the kind of condescension I found daily in the charismatic groups toward those poor souls who were not "walking in the fulness of the spirit."

But I was steadily drawn in by the sound reasoning, the fearless approach to topics I had never heard discussed in Christian circles, and the broad references to a whole host of books I now realized I needed to know more about.  I decided I needed help at this point.

Knowing I couldn't turn to the leaders of my own church and expect them to actually look at and evaluate reading matter that wasn't "Spriit-filled," I turned to two close colleagues in Christian education, Wade and Brad.  Both were Christian school principals of schools sponsored by charismatic churches, just like me.  Two other things we had in common - we liked to read, and none of us had any formal Bible or theology education.  We lived in Safford, Sierra Vista, and Yuma, so most of our visiting had to be by phone. 

The arrival of each issue prompted a flurry of phone calls.  The issue that (not so well from our point of view) critiqued the charismatic movement came under particular scrutiny by us.  But after months of puzzling, railing, and helping each other understand what we were reading, I remember the day when one of us said, "You know, I'm starting to buy into this."  The other two were immediately relieved, because they, too, had been thinking the same way.  Down the road, we three took several trips to Moscow.  Now Wade owns a house there, his children were baptised at Christ Church, and Brad and I are both PCA elders.  All from one magazine!

How did the magazine do that to me?  Here are a few observations:

1.  I read the foot notes.  They led me to sources like Calvin's Institutes, the Spurgeon archives, Martin Luther's writings, the Westminster Catechism, and contemporary authors like Sproul and Piper.

2.  I realized the necessity of systematic theology.  All the "odd" passages of scripture that I had previously written off as "difficult," now had a context in which to fit.  The Confessions of the Reformation have stood the test of time and intense scrutiny.   

3.  I realized the centrality of the sovereignty of God.  Non-Reformed evangelicals may think they believe God is sovereign, but they are not consistent.  When I came to understand God's sovereignty, all my philosophical questions fell into place.

4.  I wanted to be connected to church history.  Reading the documents of the Reformation, and the history that produced them, gave me a "place" in history and a grasp of the "big picture." 

5.  I found the fellowship of kindred minds.  Whereas I had previously felt oddly disconnected among many evangelicals, I had now found the people who loved Francis Schaeffer (for example), and weren't shy to talk about his writings.

Remember my concern about Bible studies in which we pooled our ignorance?  Now I can (as one Reformed pastor puts it) wake up in the morning remembering what I believe!

So there's your answer, brother Rags.  Next question?

A little history

A few weeks ago in WorldMovers Sunday School class, Rags Ragland asked, "How come you switched from Baptist to Presbyterian?"  Like a lot of Dove Mountaineers, Rags is a member of our church by virtue of his confession of faith in Christ, not an adherence to things Presbyterian.  And like a lot of the great questions Rags asks, I told him it does not have a short answer, and I promised to save it for another time.

Statue of Peter Waldo, founder of the
Waldensian "Poor Preachers," at the
Reformation Monument in Worms.

Before I even begin to tackle the personal side of this question, let me clarify some of the terms we use around here.  As I stated in the paragraph above, what it takes to be a member of Dove Mountain Church, is a confession of faith in Christ alone as our source of salvation, through grace alone and by no works of our own.  There are no test questions on the Westminster Confession, Presbyterian polity, Calvinism, or the Five Solas.

However, there is an affirmation of those ancient formulae required of those who become officers.  This past Sunday you saw the ordination of two new elders and five new deacons.  As one of those men, I am affirming the tenets of those documents listed above...and much more as well.

In this blog I want to particularly explain one of the more subtle things that I am affirming, something different from what I believed as a Baptist.  As I do this, remember that this is not a position to which members must agree, but it is part of what responsible Presbyterian leaders embrace as the heritage of our faith.

Baptist and Presbyterians are not both Protestants.  I'll give you a second for that to sink in. 

As an inquistive young person growing up in a Baptist church, I had many curious questions about church history.  Baptists of that day and age were great about publishing literature for both morning classes (Sunday School) and evening classes (Training Union).  These Bible-based curriculum guides (referred to as "quarterlies" in the vernacular, since we got new ones every thirteen weeks, year round) covered a wide range of topics.  The morning quarterlies were strictly Bible exposition, and we moved steadily through the scriptures from Old Testament to New, rarely leaving out a single verse.  The evening quarterlies covered a variety of aspects of the Christian life - from missionary stories to moral character development, from inspirational topics such as forgiveness, prayer, and faith to an occasional word or two about church history.  Our dedicated lay adult leaders were often not much more informed on the topics than we were, so we studied the quarterlies together, seldom wandering much outside of what the quarterly had to tell us.  If a question were deemed important enough, we could be referred to the pastor.  Rarely did anyone's curiosity propel them to that extreme.

I can't resist an aside here about some of the peculiar topics taught in those evening training sessions.  Using scriptural supports, I was drilled in Baptist "distinctives" which I assumed were either held by all Christians or defined other Christians as being in "error" if they did not hold to them.  Among these distinctives were:  the necessity of total abstinence from beverage alcohol, an extreme view of separation of church and state (which to this days often puts Baptists on the side with atheists in certain court cases), and the Baptist interpretation of "priesthood of the believer."  The outworking of this latter principle was that no one could ever really tell a Baptist, with any authority, what any scripture means.  The individual believer (regardless of age or education) was said to be perfectly competent to teach himself.  It also meant that Bible studies usually consisted of "this is what it means to me," with no wrong answers - ever.  By the time I was in college, I labelled this practice "pooling our ignorance."

I remember the day, as an eighth grader, that I discovered that the church had a library!  In those pre-internet days, this was a great boon to my inquiring mind.  Since I often spent long hours at the church on Wednesday afternoons while my mother was working in the kitchen as Church Hostess, the library became my refuge - a great source of information to me.  At last I could get some answers beyond the rudimentary information provided in our age-group classes.

It was then and there that I discovered that Baptists are not Protestants.  At least, not according to some leaders.  [Remember that priesthood thing?  No one ever has to agree on anything.]  This view, called Baptist Successionism, essentially holds that there is an unbroken line of non-conforming Christians from the apostolic times in the first century after Christ all the way to the present.  The historical basis for this assertion centers around some little known groups, such as the Albigensians of southern France and the Waldensians of northern Italy.  The Albigensians claimed their heritage went all the way back to the first century, but there are no actual historic evidences of their movement prior to the eleventh century.  The Waldensians can be proved to have appeared around the eighth century, although they also claim an earlier origin.  Both groups were anti-sacerdoctal and were never a part of the Catholic Church.  In fact, both groups were persecuted extensively by the Church over several centuries.  The Albigensians, or Cathars, eventually died out in the fourteenth century, but the Wandensians persisted, many being absorbed into other non-Catholic groups.  A Waldensian Evangelical Church exists in Italy in the present day.  

 

Back to Baptist Successionism:  to those holding this belief, it is important that there is an unbroken line of non-Catholic Christians going back to the time of Christ, who were never part of the Catholic Church (which many of them still consider to be the Whore of Babylon).  Therefore, those holding this belief consistently distinguish themselves from historic Protestants - those who protested the abuses of the medieval Catholic Church (which was their church at the time) and set about to reform the practices deemed to be non-Scriptural.  To Baptist Successionists, their hands are "clean" - they never were part of the "whore."       

Other than a few overlapping beliefs, particularly adult baptism (as opposed to paedobaptism), there is no clear or indisputable evidence that either the Anabaptists of Reformation times or present day Baptists have any direct connection to the Albigensians or Waldensians.  In light of several unbiblical beliefs of each of the two groups, Baptists should wish and hope there is no connection.  But many Baptists have held to this connection, including renowned preacher Charles Spurgeon, who wrote:

"We believe that the Baptists are the original Christians. We did not commence our existence at the reformation, we were reformers before Luther and Calvin were born; we never came from the Church of Rome, for we were never in it, but we have an unbroken line up to the apostles themselves. We have always existed from the days of Christ, and our principles, sometimes veiled and forgotten, like a river which may travel under ground for a little season, have always had honest and holy adherents."  

So to finish up this part of the story, as someone who as a child was better informed (thanks to the church library) than most adult adherents about Baptist origins and history, it was kind of a big deal when I accepted ordination on Sunday as an elder in an historically "Protesting" denomination, the Presbyterian Church in America.  It means that I am accepting the laying on of hands by presbyters whose tradition and succession go back to the Church of Rome.  While it is true that the Roman Church declared those Protestants to be just as heretical as the Albigensians and Waldensians (and therefore just as separate and condemned), there are some holdovers that betray our heritage as Protesting Catholics:  paedobaptism, liturgical practices in our worship, communion as a sacrament, and a respect for the seasons of the liturgical calendar, among others. 

 

 Why that no longer bothers me is the subject of the next blog.

Honor where honor is due

Today I honor David Schexnayder (who honors his French ancestry) who single-handedly argued off a table of six skeptics regarding French military ineptitude at Wednesday's New Barleymen Choir Practice. 

David "schooled" us in the accomplishments of the French in erecting the Maginot Line (an aspect of WWII I had not concentrated on since my dad was in the Italian Campaign).  He then pointed out that it was actually the Belgians (see "weak fortifications" above) who let the German army into France, an event which spawned the noble efforts of the French Resistance (which he also extolled before us).  Touche, David.  Vive la France!

Greetings from North Carolina

I won't see you at church tomorrow, because I am in North Carolina honoring the couple pictured here, on the occasion of their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Walter and Mary Lynn Porter were the young, energetic Baptist campus ministry leaders at Valdosta State University in 1966 when they volunteered to direct a summer missions work camp for fourteen college students from eight different campuses. The location was the Cherokee Indian Reservation in North Carolina, and the goal was to build a new facility for a Cherokee congregation that had outgrown its one-room wooden building. It was a powerful summer for each of us.


That was when Linda and I met. I loved her work ethic and humor; maybe she liked my paint-spattered face. For nine years we were not on the same continent long enough to get married.

By the grace of God, this is what the church looked like at the end of our eight week adventure. Bethabara Baptist Church still worships there, but they have added an expansion and a beautiful face lift to the front since that long-ago summer. In 2006, nearly all of us were able to return for a reunion, and it was a thrill to worship in this building again. But this week end we gather a the home of one of our members (we call ourselves "the chillun") in Asheville, North Carolina, specifically to honor Walter and Mary Lynn. They blessed us in many ways, and it is a joy to be able to tell them so this week end!

Time for a tribute

In yesterday's blog, I alluded to the type of community that churches of an older, more agrarian American culture were able to establish. It prompted a flood of reminiscences of my first church. I am impelled to pay tribute to it here today.

I don't know exactly how my parents chose the First Baptist Church of Cartersville (Georgia), but they believed I should go to Sunday School, and that is the one they chose. During the years from age six to age nine, they drove me to the church, dropped me off, and let me walk home afterwards (it was a pretty small town). Eventually I caught on that I would get more "points" on the "Six Point Record System" (a curious invention of the Sunday School Board which probably only made sense in the post-war 1950's), if I would "Stay for Preaching: 40 points." Which is why I was in church by myself when a guest evangelist came to hold a week long "revival" at the Easter season of 1956. I responded to what I understood of the gospel (I knew I was a sinner and needed Jesus - that's about it) in the very first service. I went home and told my parents I was scheduled to be baptized the next Sunday, and then they began attending church with me.

I'd love to tell oodles of stories about this church. Even though I only went there from ages six through eleven, it seems as though a whole lifetime of lessons (both good and not-so-valuable) were inculcated into my life in this brief amount of time. But here I want to give tribute to the most positive effects of this church on my life:

1. I continued to hear the gospel, even after I was baptized. For me, that was a good thing: repetition helped my understanding. I "got it" pretty well by the time I left at age eleven (we moved to another town).

2. I saw Godly men and women who worked at secular jobs in the community. My most memorable Sunday School teacher during that period was Mr. Hall, who was a typesetter at the local newspaper. I remember being impressed that in addition to his regular job, he took time to study the Bible in order to teach us (wiggly) boys. It underscored for me the notion that I would not be limited to "full time service" in order to be faithful to the Lord.

3. I learned the words to dozens (maybe hundreds) of hymns. After I was baptized, I joined Junior Choir, and at that time Southern Baptists had a "Hymn of the Month" curriculum for all youth music programs in the denomination. I loved the stories behind the hymns, the poetry of the hymns, the harmonies of the hymns...everything. It would never have occurred to me to take a hymn book home, but whenever I was stuck at church waiting on my mom, I would grab a hymnal and read the lyrics. I know...I was a nerd waiting to happen (I did eventually major in English), but for me it was rich.

4. I formed consistent Bible reading and prayer habits. Southern Baptists at that time had this strange Sunday evening meeting (before "preaching") called Baptist Training Union. It had a more complicated record system than Sunday School (eight points, for crying out loud!) and the highest value in this system was "Daily Bible Reading: 30 points." Fortunately, they supplied us with booklets of readings for every day of the year, which were coordinated to the lesson we were studying the next Sunday. I formed a lifelong habit (worth more than 30 ponts!).

5. I heard Godly laymen pray long prayers every Wednesday evening. I don't know if young people nowadays ever get exposed to the kind of lengthy prayer meetings I went to as a child, but they are missing out on a sense of reverence for the holy, if not. I wasn't there completely voluntarily. Shortly after my baptism, my mother took the job of church hostess (running the kitchen), and Baptist churches in the South at that time typically had a huge Wednesday evening meal followed by Prayer Meeting. I walked to church on Wednesday afternoons (straight down the street from Cherokee Avenue Elementary School), sang in Junior Choir rehearsal, ate dinner in the kitchen with my mom and the "ladies" (cooks), and then went out into the Prayer Meeting while mom and the ladies cleaned up. [Incidentally, junior choir met in the upstairs room where the upper half of that huge "rose window" you can see in the photo above could be seen from the inside. Quite an aesthetic setting for a small town boy]. 
Now don't think I wasn't a normal boy. Sometimes I could hardly bear the lengthy prayers, and found it extremely difficult to keep still. But this taught me fear of God, and as we know, that is the beginning of wisdom (Proverbs 9:10).

6. I grew to love fellowship. Most of the experiences I had with the church were very positive: Sunday School, Training Union, Junior Choir, Wednesday Night Supper, Prayer Meeting, special events like New Year's Eve Watch Night, and so on. If there was anywhere I felt accepted and loved, it was at church.

I could say more, but these are a few of the highlights. First Baptist has built a new building now, farther out of town. But my memories of the blessed church of my youth are safe and intact.

Thank you, God. Thank you, saints at First Baptist.

Looking backward and forward

Pastor Allen has mentioned this book several times in recent sermons at Dove Mountain. It was also mentioned here at this blog last November 8. In this week's sermon, it was the source of the compelling story Pastor Allen told about the "deep savagery of much of 18th century England," and the subsequent reforms which can be traced to spiritual renewal and conversion.

What was striking in the sermon, of course, were the parallels to today's American culture. The specific sins which Pastor Allen read about in 18th century England are certainly abroad in our times here in the U.S., and there were audible agreements being voiced among the congregation as he read the list.

Pastor Allen is well-read in history, and we should be grateful that he brings so much of the past into his messages. But the point is for us to apply the lessons we learn from the past. In this case, England would have sunk further into debauchery of all kinds had its people not heeded the message of the gospel and repented. For our purposes, it is not relevant that England has since sunk back even further into sin. In many respects, it is merely following the lead of its offspring, the United States, the international distributor of Hollywood-controlled American culture.

On a side note, I will mentioned that in telling this story, Stott is quoting from an older work, entitled England before and after Wesley: The Evangelical Revival and Social Reform, by historian J. Wesley Bready. At Amazon.com, I learned that this book has been out of print for some time, and only rare copies are for sell by private owners at a high price.

Now, this is not necessarily the result of a conspiracy (at least not a conscious one), but with the currently fashionable disregard of history, we should be thankful that writers like John Stott (and preachers like Allen Cooney) have done the research for us, keeping these stories alive to inspire us to action in our time.

Let's show our appreciation by praying for revival and practicing repentance of national sins in our individual lives.

More re-connections

An unexpected e mail came into my box last week, and the photo above was attached.

In the fall of 1971 I was stationed at Fort Hamilton, NY for three months for training as a chaplain's assistant. The first Sunday there, I took the subway to Chinatown and wandered the streets until I heard a hymn I recognized, went up the the second floor flat from whence the sounds came, and instantly was welcomed into the fellowship of the Chinese Conservative Baptist Church of New York City.

I immediately became a regular attender, not only of the Sunday services but also the youth meetings for both their English youth group and the Cantonese youth group. The English group called themselves the JYP (Junior Young People), and the above photo was taken at one of their week end retreats in upstate New York. The gentleman in the white shirt on the right is Pastor Wong. I am on the back row.

A few years ago I wondered what had become of some of these young people, so I left a message on the church's web site. My message was eventually forwarded to one of the young men, King Louie (second from the right, arms crossed, in the back). The message was forwarded by Dexter Yee (far right, white shirt, black rimmed glasses). Both of these young men are actively serving the Lord in other Chinese churches in the NYC area. Of those in the photo, five are still attending the original church.

A day after receiving this photo, I also go an e mail from one of he girls in the photo, Barbara (Lee) Herron (middle of second row, glasses). She is now on faculty at Northland University, a Christian College in Wisconsin.

To look at this photo again after all these years is not only good for my "nostalgia" bone, but refreshment to my soul: to know that so many are still faithful to the Lord.

Proverbs 25:25
As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country.

Back in time, off in space

This blog will be going on hiatus for about two weeks. I will indulge in a brief personal history to explain why.

From 1968 through 1970 I served with the Foreign Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention in Hong Kong as a missionary teacher. My primary assignment was teaching English and Bible at Pui Ching Middle School, a school which had been founded by Baptists in Canton, but was relocated to Hong Kong when the communists overran China. Incidentally "Middle school" in the Chinese system refers primarily to high school ("Little school" is elementary and "Big school" is university). However, Pui Ching was a K-12 school with about 5000 students at the time.

By the time I taught there, Pui Ching had established itself as the most academically superior school in Hong Kong among those teaching primarily in the Chinese language. At that time, because Hong Kong was still a British colony, most schools wishing to seem prestigious taught primarily in English. Of the two hundred seniors I taught each year, nearly eighty per cent continued their education in U.S. colleges and universities. It was significant that for many of them, I was the first American they ever knew; yet most of them were only one year away from freshman year in the U.S., and their English was not very good.

Although Pui Ching students attended weekly chapels and mandatory Bible class, less than ten per cent were Christians. But the seeds did not fall on hard soil in all cases, and I am happy to report that perhaps as many as twenty-five per cent or more of those students are now believers. And at least one is now a pastor of a Chinese church in New Zealand.

I happen to know this because, through the wonders of the internet, I have reconnected with many of those former students. In fact, I read e mails almost daily from many of them through a common listserve which they use. In the early years of my return from Hong Kong, I saw quite a few of them while they were in college, and in recent years have attended several of their reunions in Los Angeles and San Francisco. Two have visited me here in Tucson within the past five years, and one actually lives here, a pharmacy professor at U of A.

Even so, I was not prepared for the wonderful surprise I received last spring when one of them wrote to me saying that the Class of 1969 has invited Linda and me, at their expense, to attend their fortieth reunion in Hong Kong next week. It is timed to coincide with the schools's celebration of its 120th anniversary. It's hard to believe that I was actually teaching there during the 80th anniversary!

Chinese students are, by nature, very respectful to their teachers, but the bonds in this school are remarkably tight. Their worldwide alumni assocation numbers in the tens of thousands. Most have been quite successful as entrepreneurs, college professors, doctors, programmers, scientists, and so on. There is even a Nobel Prize physicist among the alumni of this school (although he graduated several years before I was there).

I should mention that Linda was serving in the same mission program during the same two years in Peru, teaching missionary children for several different families. I often say we were never on the same continent long enough to get married during our first seven years out of college!

At any rate, preparations for the trip, the trip itself, and recovery from the trip, along with the fact that this is my busy tax credit season, will keep me from posting for probably about two weeks. Please pray for our journey (we don't travel much nowadays) and for the wonderful contacts we will make during this time.