Caleb Thompson 1208295

Wynne Unit

Huntsville, TX 77349

My Beloved Brethren,

The entire earthly ministry of our gracious Savior was a daily series of interruptions.  We find him delivering an exhausting message on Mount Olivet one morning only to descend into the path of a disfigured leper begging for his intervention.  Plans are postponed.  Agenda is abandoned.  All attention is arrested by this one needy soul.  And as soon as his needs are met, our Savior enters the city gate only to be met by another interruption.  There is no chance to relax or to recuperate.  Remarkably, there is no exhausted sigh or frustrated shrug.  No excuse.  No denial.  No put-off.  Souls, not schedules, register on Christ’s radar.  Another soul cries for help, and help he’ll get.  When his day is finally winding down, he takes the opportunity to accompany Peter home for dinner, only to find Peter’s mother-in-law feverish.  Before this mission of mercy and a quick meal are finished, the house is surrounded by a multitude leading disturbed and possessed souls who are in hopes of healing.  Drooling lips, drooping eyelids, and deranged mumblings are replaced with leaping, dancing, and praising the Lord through a single touch.  Multitudes run home to share the miraculous tidings, and Christ enters a ship bound for another city.  He swiftly falls asleep only to be awakened from well-deserved slumber to calm a storm.  Upon arrival at the Gergesenes, two raving lunatics interrupt him.  Casting the devils out of them creates a cataclysmic reaction of supernatural proportions, driving a herd of swine into the sea to drown and bringing the entire population of unappreciative inhabitants to compel our weary Savior to leave their coast.

This is just the beginning.  There is no indication of rest in the record.  Returning by ship to Galilee, he is awaited by a palsied man.  He must reach the tax booth before it closes, but he stops to touch the palsied man with his healing hands before rushing to catch Levi at his office.  After an exchange of “follow me,” we follow Christ to Levi’s house where a feast is served.  If anyone ever deserved a decent, uninterrupted meal, our Savior certainly did, but he has barely taken a bite before another interruption.  This time it’s the self-righteous crowd, interrupting his meal to contemptuously condemn his choice of company, conversation, and consumables.  

I would be trying to locate Jonah’s travel agent by now.  Travel, Christ does at this juncture.  Not away from the crowds.  Toward them.  He leaves the table in haste, responding to the ruler’s plea to raise his daughter from the dead.  Along the way, he is interrupted by a woman with an issue of blood.  Another interruption awaits him as he leaves the ruler’s house after restoring his daughter to life.  Two blind men waylay him, and a few steps down the road, a mute pantomimes his desperation.  Interruption after interruption after interruption.  

Search the Scripture over, and you will not find a single instance where Christ did not fulfill his ministry, extend his love, or dispense his mercy in spite of the incessant interruptions.  He didn’t begrudge them.  He didn’t schedule them.  He didn’t ignore them.  Instead, he capitalized on them.  Interruptions were the entire basis of his ministry.  I challenge you to find a single miracle that occurred without an interruption!

If any question lingers about the Christ-life, this is it.  A single interruption in our day and our attitude is altered.  We often huff and puff oblivious to eternal realities. Yet miraculous encounters await us with each interruption!  Interruptions are not obstacles!  They are opportunities to reflect the life and love of our Savior, to shine a beacon of light into the darkest corners.

No life has influenced, impacted, and enflamed as many as the life of Jesus Christ.  Despised, used, ridiculed, interrupted, he gave without regard, of his time, of himself, and of his love, “leaving us an example that we should follow in his steps.”

Three distinctions mark each interruption that beset our Savior.  Among every one of them, whether confronted by an ostracized leper or distinguished citizen, a distraught father or demanding mother, our Lord was accessible, approachable, and available.  (That is a great formula for being taken advantage of.  And taken advantage of, he was.  The same multitudes that begged for his immediate attention, that expected him to drop everything to feed and heal them also demanded his crucifixion.  That was of no concern to Jesus.  If it had been, he would have never gone to Calvary to bear the penalty for our sins.  He had no thought for self-preservation.  The horrors of hell, the glory of heaven, and the will of Father were the sole motivating factors in his ministry.)  

Accessible.  If you grew up in a house like mine with dozens of dishes to wash, horses to feed, a practical Laundromat to operate, an endless list of chores, you have mastered the art of being scarce.  The one closest to mom’s purview was going to be worked like a sugar-mill mule.  In our Father’s house, scarcity is not an art.  It is a handicap. Scarcity robs us of divine encounters and miraculous experiences.  Hoping another will pick up the slack, making ourselves unreachable, and scanning the caller ID has disqualified us often from escorting another into spiritual healing and wholeness.

Approachable.  “Call me anytime you need me.”  You’ve heard that before but hesitated to call for fear of straining a friendship.  The intention and desire is there, but an attachment to a manageable schedule and premeditated plans makes an accessible friend unapproachable.  He may come to help, but he’s miserable and is making you miserable.  May God save us from being unapproachable, forfeiting our chance to express Father’s unconditional love to a needy soul.

Available.  We may be accessible and approachable, but nothing will cheer a weary soul and encourage a faltering saint like one who responds immediately, as if it were the day’s greatest priority to reach out and touch them.  The incredible aspect of it is this: it is our day’s greatest priority!  We often become so caught up in a ministry that we pass up a chance to minister.  Remember Christ’s words, “inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”  

Make yourself accessible, approachable, and available to men, and you will find a richer dimension in your relationship with Jesus!  Capitalize on interruptions.  Make them your daily calling, and you will reach out to touch another and find yourself touching God’s heart and he touching yours!

I love you all dearly.  Thank you for your fervent prayers. I will be reviewed for parole before the year is over, and I deeply appreciate your prayers concerning my release.  I rest in Father’s purpose and trust that he will govern all matters to bring glory to his name without regard to the status of my flesh.  May the Lord be magnified is all that I ask.

Your grateful brother,

Caleb

Caleb Thompson 1208295
Wynne Unit
Huntsville, Tx 77349

My Beloved Brethren,

Most of us would identify ourselves as a “Christian,” and sadly many are told of that fact rather than shown.  In fact, most would never know that we are, if not told so.  But the term “Christian” did not generate among followers of Christ.  That would have been an arrogant assumption to declare yourself to be “like Christ.”   “Christian” was a derogatory term that accompanied great scrutiny and often persecution.  It was not a label for those who said a sinner’s prayer or attended church from time to time, but for those with a radical belief in a spiritual kingdom and a supernatural realm that did not lift people above the difficulties of life but immersed them in it, infusing secular life with sacred purpose.  To be a “Christian” is to reflect the life and love of Christ.

            “The end of the commandment” is not spiritual rigidity, self-satisfaction, lofty experiences, divine encounters, and high standards, but “is charity out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned” (I Timothy 1:5).  The noble, holy creed has been reduced to a self-centered, self-absorbed, neurotic dogma that neither satisfies the soul not the Savior.

            Any theology that fails to minister to the meek, weak, and lowly is a false theology.  The indication of true faith is mercy toward others.  The test of true righteousness is its power to unburden the weary, to bring light into darkness, and to love the unlovely.

            Only three disciples were chosen to experience transfiguration heights, but all were taken to the depths of Galilee’s leper colony!  The Christ-life is not spent in lofty settings amid stained-glass windows or hem-line and haircut “Christians,” but in lowly service, in homes of the poor and lonely, among the least of men, expressing charity out of a pure heart, a good conscience, and faith unfeigned.  We should examine our Christian charity in the reflection of Luke 10:30-35 “And Jesus answering said, A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead.  And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side.  And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side.  But a certain Samaritan as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him.  And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.” 

            Most certainly the priest and the Levite passed by with good reason, as common Christianity does today.  The priest surely had enough burdens to bear and too many pressing concerns as it was.  There were programs to be prepared for, sermons to be written, details to be implemented, promotions to be planned.  The Levite probably carried a designated offering for the Lord’s work that could not be used for such ideals as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, or relieving the poor and afflicted.  Pews needed to be padded, carpet replaced, and flowers planted at the curb to attract such men to church.  No, the Levite’s wine and oil was designated for the altar and not the afflicted!   Besides,  his schedule was full, and he was already running late to teach great theological truths to those young, impressionable minds at the temple.  There is just too much going on to get involved with a situation this messy.  Too many prophecies to make.  Too many wonderful work to do.  A silent prayer and a compassionate glance were all he had to spare.  May God save us from such a religion as this!

            This “half – dead” soul would have been whole dead by daybreak if not for a Samaritan who showed a truer religion than the priest and the Levite who “passed by on the other side.”  If any man could have passed by justified, it was the Samaritan who had suffered a lifetime of hate and segregation from the Jews.  He definitely was not patrolling the Jericho road looking for stranded travelers.  The wine and oil he carried were more likely for securing a contract at work or satisfying a family at home than for roadside assistance to a bitter enemy.  The priest and Levite received their paycheck from the offerings of the Jews but would not render aid to one, while the Samaritan, who earned a paycheck despite Jewish opposition, spared no penny to aid one, discarding resentment in favor of restoration.  He bestowed his time, his wealth, and is heart on one guilty of holding him in disregard.

            The concept to be grasped is that “if we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us” (I John 4:12).   The surest way to cure our own heart-aches is to soothe another’s.  The quickest way to heal our wounds is to bind the wounds of others.  We are never so miserable as when considering our own misery, and never so joyful as when considering the welfare of others.  When we love others, we are actually ministering to our Savior, as he testified, “in as much as ye have done it to the least…you have done it unto me.”   When we are focused on the needs of others, we lose sight of our own needs.  Our concerns diminish in size and perspective when viewed from within another’s shoes.

            To be a follower of Christ who “came not to be ministered unto, but to minister” is to express love that suffers long and is kind, that seeketh not its own and vaunteth not itself.  Love is the reflex of faith, the breath of the soul, the life of the body.  The self-involved soul is a casket, a white-washed tomb, for “he that loveth his life shall lose it, and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal.”  (John 12:25).

            A myriad of opportunities present themselves daily: a phone receptionist, a cashier, an acquaintance, a neighbor out of work, the man fueling is car on the other side of the pump.  Disregard appearances.  Beneath the nicer car, the classier clothes, the whitened smile and botoxed lines lies a soul ravaged by that prince of thieves.  Unable to heal the wounds, they mask them; but death still looms, dogging their steps.  You have been looking for a chance to serve.  This is it!  Wine and oil are all you need!  Give of your best.  Spare no expense.  Your crumbs won’t work.  What if you were the half-dead soul depending on their compassion?  Love them to Jesus.  Love them with all you have and shed abroad the Savior’s love, the sweet balm of Gilead.

            I love you precious friends, and thank you for the love you express to me.  I am so grateful for the gracious financial gifts sent to my wife this Christmas, for the many e-mails, and for the visits most recently by Reverend Sylvester Matthews, Tom Geer, Robby Simpson, Joe West, Troy Green, and the Sandhill Boys!  May the year ahead dawn with purpose and promise.  The Lord be magnified.

Unalterably your friend,

Caleb