Prison Perspectives By Wil Triggs

Irina Ratushinskaya was a Soviet dissident who was sent to the Gulag back in the 1980s. Her poetry got her arrested. Can you imagine that? While in prison, she wrote poems on bars of soap so she could quickly wash them away. She also memorized the lines to write down on cigarette papers later. She dared to believe,and somehow the strength of her poetic faith became her undoing. Her case drew global attention. In the prayer force I helped lead back then, we featured her, and people prayed for her. We went to Washington to advocate for her and other religious prisoners. In those days, both sides of the aisle could mostly agree that international religious liberty was a good thing. During the Reagan administration, before the collapse of the Soviet Union, she was released. She lived in the U.S. for a time, then England and eventually returned to Russia, where she died of cancer July 15, 2017.

I came across this paragraph she wrote about her prison experience:
You must not, under any circumstances, allow yourself to hate. Not because your tormentors have not earned it. But if you allow hatred to take root, it would flourish and spread during your years in the camps, driving out everything else, and ultimately corrode and warp your soul. You will no longer be yourself, your identity will be destroyed, all that will remain will be a hysterical, maddened and bedeviled husk of the human being that once was.

Alexei Navalny’s Prison Exercise
The one-year anniversary of Alexey Navalny’s (a Russian anti-corruption activist) death was covered recently in a BBC news program. The camera followed his mother and father to the gravestone. The reporter said it was brave for the people who went to the grave to simply show up with the NSB/KGB watching. The crowd broke into spontaneous chants of thanks in Russian.

This excerpt from Navalny's prison memoir strikes a chord:
I have always thought, and said openly, that being a believer makes it easier to live your life and, to an even greater extent, engage in opposition politics. Faith makes life simpler.

The initial position for this exercise is the same as for the previous one. You lie in your bunk looking up at the one above and ask yourself whether you are a Christian in your heart of hearts. It is not essential for you to believe some old guys in the desert once lived to be eight hundred years old, or that the sea was literally parted in front of someone. But are you a disciple of the religion whose founder sacrificed himself for others, paying the price for their sins? Do you believe in the immortality of the soul and the rest of that cool stuff? If you can honestly answer yes, what is there left for you to worry about? Why, under your breath, would you mumble a hundred times something you read from a hefty tome you keep in your bedside table? Don’t worry about the morrow, because the morrow is perfectly capable of taking care of itself.

My job is to seek the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and leave it to good old Jesus and the rest of his family to deal with everything else. They won’t let me down and will sort out all my headaches. As they say in prison here: they will take my punches for me.

The Apostle Pavel's (Paul's) Last Words in Scripture
As I think of persecuted Christians around the world these days, I do think more than ever of Paul’s times in prisons. How he suffered, served and wrote from his time in chains. Our evening series in 2 Timothy ended last Sunday, and Felipe Chamy pointed out that these are the last words in Scripture from Paul.

Do your best to come to me soon. For Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me and gone to Thessalonica. Crescens has gone to Galatia, Titus to Dalmatia. Luke alone is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry. Tychicus I have sent to Ephesus. When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, also the books, and above all the parchments. Alexander the coppersmith did me great harm; the Lord will repay him according to his deeds.  Beware of him yourself, for he strongly opposed our message. At my first defense no one came to stand by me, but all deserted me. May it not be charged against them! But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. So I was rescued from the lion's mouth.  The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed and bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

Greet Prisca and Aquila, and the household of Onesiphorus. Erastus remained at Corinth, and I left Trophimus, who was ill, at Miletus. Do your best to come before winter. Eubulus sends greetings to you, as do Pudens and Linus and Claudia and all the brothers.

The Lord be with your spirit. Grace be with you.  (2 Timothy 4:9-22)

As Irina, Alexei and Pavel demonstrate, our fellowship with one another--in, out and beyond trials, prisons,death and life--forms an underappreciated hallmark of our walk with Jesus. May each of us walk in truth together and love one another today and always.

Go Bags By Lorraine Triggs

We have moved on from the early COVID days of hunkering down and hoarding to go bags, which my reliable dictionary defines as a “bag packed with survival supplies and kept ready for use in case of an emergency that requires rapid evacuation.”  

One site encourages go bags that “strike a balance between being well prepared and having a go bag that’s easy to maintain and carry. Exactly what you pack depends on you and your location (e.g., weather; cash-based economy; availability of food, water, and medicine).” It then provides a checklist of twenty-seven items, each with a sub list of five or more items to pack in that easy-to-maintain-and-carry go bag.

I am in favor of go bags, but I can’t help envisioning mine becoming bigger and bigger as I keep adding to it just in case, well, just in case of an emergency. I not only want to be prepared but also overprepared for any impending disaster.

My mom and mother-in-law carried their go bags in the cricks of their elbows, and rarely left home without them—emergency or no emergency. The true emergency was when my mom misplaced her early model of a go bag, and we would turn the house upside down to find it.

I don’t think the Bible has its ancient versions of go bags. Abraham grabbed all his bags and packed up his household when the Lord said, “Go from our country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” (Genesis 12:1) The writer of Hebrews reminds us that Abraham “went out, not knowing where he was going” (Hebrews 11:8)—hardly the best plan for rapid evacuation and preparedness—but it was more than enough for Abraham because his security was in the God who said go.

In Psalm 91, however, the psalmist’s security was in the God who said hold fast as the arrows flew by day, pestilence stalked in darkness and destruction lay waste at noon. The psalmist’s emergency plan was the God in whom he trusted. God said hold fast, so he did. Who needs a go bag when you have shelter and refuge.

Well, I still need one. God says go, and I say yes, as I am stuffing the bag with my plans to make my future secure. God says stay, and I dive into the bag looking for what I need to control the hard situation.

The New City Catechism asks: “What is our only hope in life and death?”

The answer: “That we are not our own but belong, body and soul, both in life and death, to God and to our Savior Jesus Christ.”

I think it’s time to empty the go bag.

One Less Virtuous Life By Lorraine Triggs

In a neighborhood filled with houses of two-parent families and stay-at-home moms and kids who roamed the streets like free-range chickens, Justine stood out. She lived two doors down from us, with no husband, no kids, no pets. Just Justine. She was the only adult we were allowed to address by her first name. We didn’t call her Miss Justine or Aunt Justine, and apparently, she had no last name, or otherwise we would have used that.

From our childish perspective, Justine’s biggest fault was her choice of Halloween candy. It was so awful that we just stopped going to her front door altogether. The neighborhood band of mothers explained that Justine was frugal, and didn’t want to waste money on candy for a bunch of clowns. She was also frugal with her time, and didn’t waste it chatting with the neighbors. If you passed by her house when she was outside, she’d give a curt nod by way of greeting and carry on with whatever she was doing at the time. It was hard to miss the leave-me-be vibes Justine gave off.

I wish I could say that Justine had her Ebeneezer Scrooge moment and stuffed our trick or treat bags with the finest chocolate in town and threw the best block party ever, but she didn't. She remained aloof and detached, even when when  my parents and the neighbors who lived between Justine’s and our house mowed her lawn, shoveled her snowy driveway, worked on her car or sent us kids to help her carry groceries from the car to her, well, carry the groceries to her front porch. The neighbors and my folks were generous to Justine because they had experienced God's generosity. It was never about economics.

A lot of us think of frugality as a virtue. According to Webster’s it’s “characterized by or reflecting economy in the use of resources.” We’re stewarding our resources, taking care of our families, being wise in our spending, showing tough love, not turning our country into a welfare state. The problem with thinking of frugality and its cousin parsimony as virtues is when we become economic in the use of resources such as generosity, compassion, love, kindness and gentleness, and in deciding who should be on the receiving end of them.

The very, very, very good news for all of us is that God is not frugal in his resources. His very words express his extravagant nature. In Genesis 22:18, God doesn’t just say that Abraham will have a lot of offspring, but God will “surely multiply your offspring as the stars of heaven and as the sand that is on the seashore.” (Genesis 22:18) It’s not just some land God promised Moses, but a promised land flowing with milk and honey. The psalmists could have written that God is love, but instead they wrote that God abounds in love; that he not only removes sins but also removes them as far as the east is from the west.

Frugality isn't actually a virtue, especially for people upon whom God has lavished the riches of his glorious grace. The true virtue, the true goodness is when we are like our extravagant God and share with a hurting, dying world his abounding love and mercy that removes their sins as far as the east is from the west.

A Bowl of Red By Wil Triggs

It is better to eat soup with someone you love than steak with someone you hate. Proverbs 15:17 (TLB)
 
Chili is American borscht.

For me, Slavic cuisine was an acquired taste. I came to understand that the staple soup known as borscht had as many variations as babushkas who made it. The Ukrainian version, which lore says is the origin for the soup, is more potato and tomato and lighter meat than the Russian version that is heavier on cabbage and beet. I’ve seen older ladies get into heated debates over how to cook it, even dismissing other versions as nothing more than “just soup.”
 
The individualized way of cooking is as true or even more true when it comes to us Americans and our chili. We have served chili at events here at the church. It’s a go-to meal for my small group when we eat a meal together. It was my great privilege to serve as a judge at two or maybe even three of our Chili Cook-offs. I still remember the Enstrom chili and the Sohmer chili and another chili from an international that I think took top prize one of the years I judged. Imagine that—a non-American winning the chili cookoff.
 
And thanks to the Super Bowl, there will likely be more chili eaten this Sunday than any other Sunday of the year. Sure, there’s wings and nachos and pizza, but chili can stay warm through the whole game. People talk about the game or the commercials or the half-time show. Me? I’m thinking about chili.
 
I’ve been helped along in my thinking by Sam Sifton. He’s the founding editor of the Cooking Section of theNew York Timesamong other things and at the end of January, theTimespublished Sam’s “Our Ultimate Guide to Making the Best Chili.” I like his writing about food so much that he may be the single best secret reason to read or even subscribe.
 
When it comes to protein, Sam gives all the options: beef, poultry, lamb, game. He talks about beans or no beans. He describes various chilies and tells the difference betweenchilepowder andchilipowder and tells how to make both at home. He gives step-by-step instructions for cooking your chili and then lists all different toppings: fruits, vegetables, herbs, dairy, starches. He mentions cornbread, but I’m flummoxed that there is no mention of adding a little cornmeal to the pot toward the end. The piece concludes with links to five best chili recipes to try. Thank you, Sam.
 
Food is a powerful sensory experience.
 
Before they fled Egypt, God’s people had to eat the Passover meal. They had to be ready to flee, but the meal was not a drive-thru eat-as-you-flee event. It was a structured dinner that is still eaten today. Think of Esau selling his birthright to Jacob for a bowl of stew. Maybe that was their version of chili. Think of Isaac discerning the identity of his son in part by the food brought to him to eat.
 
Some of Jesus' miracles were around food—the wedding feast, the miraculous catch of fish, the boy’s lunch that fed thousands. Jesus’ critics did not like the people he ate with. The disciples recognized the risen Jesus when he broke bread.
 
The Apostle Peter was hungry, and as the food was being prepared, before his food came, a vision of forbidden foods came down from heaven in a sheet, signaling a new freedom and a new way forward that was life-changing. God told him to kill and eat.  It took three times for Peter to get it.
 
There’s something about eating together that is more significant than we realize—especially for Americans. After all, besides chili, we also came up with fast food, because who has time to stop and smell the chili or whatever else we’re about to eat. I believe that Jesus calls us to slow down and to eat together more often, to enjoy both the people and the food at a meal. Every meal can be a celebration, sometimes even a revelation, other times just a respite from all the craziness.
 
When we read in Scripture, “Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!” (Psalm 34:8), we may devotionalize it away from actual seeing and tasting. But God speaks to us in food in special ways like nothing else. So don’t lose the wonder of your chili in the scrimmages and commercials and half-time entertainment. Turn off the television for a few minutes. Taste the food. Look at the people who are with you. Celebrate together. The food and the people around you are more important than the outcome of the game. Enjoy.

Here's the link to Sam Sifton's “Ultimate Guide to Making the Best Chili.”

I'm Good with That By Lorraine Triggs

Just the other day, the Amazon delivery guy dropped off a stack of packages on my desk, and before I could sign anything, he replied, “You guys are all good.” He left before I had a chance to bring up total depravity.

Pamela Paul recently wrote a feature in The New York Times titled, “It’s All Good, and You’re Perfect.” What good Christian would take a pass at reading this? Not this one.

She wrote, “Recently I’ve been told that I’m perfect, something I’m perfectly aware I’ve never been nor ever will be. This generous assessment has come from strangers when I apologize for bumping into them and from the exceedingly cheerful salespeople at the store where my daughter shops for clothes. 'No, you’re perfect!' they’ll insist when I explain the need to rest my Gen X weariness on the fitting room floor where a modest 'No problem' would have sufficed.

“The urge toward pronounced perfection is annoyingly catchy. Almost against my will, I now respond to emails with a knee-jerk ‘Perfect!’ where I once would have said something more in line with the never mind sensibility of my generation. ‘Sounds good,’ for example, or ‘OK.’ “

I stand guilty as charged with those email replies.

We might have a “new affirmative language” as Paul describes, but that language isn’t doing much to help our stress, anxiousness or fears. Paul comments, “Most of us are willing to believe we are OK or that we are at least not a problem. It was easy to be no big deal. But who among us can live up to being all good, let alone perfect, all the time?”

When put this way, goodness and perfection sound like undesirable human attributes, but not so for the One who is good and perfect.

From the beginning, we discover that one of God’s favorite words is “good.” His creation was full of blessing and fruitfulness. It was perfect in design, especially those humans he made in his image. Everything was truly all good until it wasn’t.

God, however, remained good as lies and deception and accusations swirled around the garden. It was a good God who didn’t turn a cold shoulder to sin but walked in the garden calling for Adam and Eve. It was a good God who judged the sin that had broken his creation and a very good God who promised rescue.

It is a capricious god who loves his creatures one minute and turns his back on them the next. This is a god who is stand-offish and doesn’t want to clean up after his creatures’ mishaps and sins. This is not at all like our God who is “good and forgiving, abounding in steadfast love to all who call upon you” (Psalm 86:5), who holds back judgment, brings the outsider in and enters his creation full of grace and truth.

There are times, however, when God’s goodness and mercy make us uncomfortable, as it did with the prophet Jonah. His mission the second time around was the same as the first—call out against Nineveh—which Jonah did, because he knew God . . . was “a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from disaster.” (Jonah 4:2) That’s why he fled to Tarshish in the first place. He knew God would forgive those awful, horrible, sinful Ninevites when they repented.

Just as God forgives anyone (yes, that anyone) who cries, “Have mercy upon me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions.” (Psalm 51:1)

We need to get comfortable with God’s goodness and mercy since they're going to follow us all the days of our lives, and then some.

And that's perfect with me.

My Friend Eeyore By Wil Triggs

“Don’t worry about me. Go and enjoy yourself. I’ll stay here and be miserable.”
 
He worked in the office with me, and we became friends. He was a numbers guy, and I have always been drawn to words. He also preferred bicycles to cars. For this descendant of the old grey donkey Eeyore, there was no situation he had ever faced for which he could not find elements of hopelessness. If the business was in the black, it was a temporary fluke.  And “in the red” meant that we were approaching the cliff over which we would soon fall like the great crash of 1929. When catastrophe was averted, time after time, it was only a short-term gain and then the doom returned.
 
If a friend came to meet him at the office, we would hear something critical about him before or after the meeting. Somehow, he still had a cadre of friends. Not only that—the mostsurprising thing was he had somehow gotten a woman to marry him. How did that work? What was his proposal like?
 
“I’ve been thinking, and it makes a certain sense to me for us to marry for financial well-being and mutual protection against the onslaught of a most horrifying future. Whaddya say? Oh yeah, here’s the ring.” I imagined his marriage proposal to have been something along those lines.
 
Whatever words he actually used, he had managed to pull it off and she also said yes. For any of us who have done this and succeeded, there is a sense in which it seems unbelievable. We know ourselves at our worst and so it comes as a surprise to hear the word “yes.” I mean, was there really a period or an explanation point after it? Not “yes, well, let me take a look at my calendar and my heart and we’ll get back to you.”
 
No, Eeyore’s wife had said yes, and they were devoted to one another. Eeyore claimed his wife was just like him, but there were plenty of other times when I saw a change after they had talked. She had helped convince him that the glass had at least some water in it and it was not completely empty or planted in him the thought that it maybe even might someday fill up. People influence others for good and bad.
 
Eeyore was hard on everything. He found fault with his church. And mine. The preaching, the pastors, the programs, the congregation, his own lack of involvement, the level of giving, how his church spent its money. And he didn’t hold back on his own assessment when he looked in the mirror. He didn’t usually think he could do things better than the people he criticized. In fact, he knew most things were hopeless for most all of us.
 
But for a follower of Jesus on this side of the resurrection, there’s no escaping hope. Even for Eeyore. There is one person Eeyore couldn’t find fault with: Jesus. If he had been one of Jesus’ disciples, I could hear him complaining about trying to figure out what the parables meant, and he certainly would have had an opinion when it came to the discussion of seating order at the heavenly throne/table. He would have held court on Easter Saturday, bewailing all that had gone wrong, but even he had to admit—no human could have conceived of the Incarnation to Ascension overturning everything. Jesus was leading us to something way better than the messed up world of today.
 
Our small office staff grew to love Eeyore because underneath all the negative stuff was a heart that Jesus loved, forgave and changed. My friend cared deeply for people, even if he didn’t always feel comfortable showing it. He worked hard to help people and when he couldn’t, he would try to find others who could. He did not want the limelight, but he deserved a little more than he got, because he was happy to work always behind-the-scenes and let the bosses take the credit. In those kind of moments we could see the caring hand of God at work.
 
Attention lost and unlovely people of the world: As a people, our glasses are not filled half water and half air.  We’ve tipped over our glass, the water puddled around it, just a swallow full of it left at that. It’s not just a matter of perspective. When the glass tipped over, it broke. We’ve really lost it.
 
If you want to see most things from a sour perspective, if you want an everything’s-wrong worldview of the universe, you might want to consider another faith—one whose founder isn’t in such a dogged pursuit of the people of the hot mess. But my friend Eeyore had no problem seeing a hot mess for what it was or confusing the filthy rags of our human achievements with the altogether new and wonderful works of Jesus Christ.
 
And as I read the Book of Isaiah in anticipation for Men’s Bible Study, my dear Christian Eeyore comes to mind. His gloominess often hid the expectation that we can and should do better, that we should raise our eyes to the heights, not lower them to the folly around us. I can hear his contempt for the things of this world in which many of us all too often land.
 
Such stupidity and ignorance!
    Their eyes are closed, and they cannot see.
    Their minds are shut, and they cannot think.
The person who made the idol never stops to reflect,
    “Why, it’s just a block of wood!
I burned half of it for heat
    and used it to bake my bread and roast my meat.
How can the rest of it be a god?
    Should I bow down to worship a piece of wood?”
The poor, deluded fool feeds on ashes.
    He trusts something that can’t help him at all.
Yet he cannot bring himself to ask,
    “Is this idol that I’m holding in my hand a lie?”
“Pay attention, O Jacob,
    for you are my servant, O Israel.
I, the Lord, made you,
    and I will not forget you.
I have swept away your sins like a cloud.
    I have scattered your offenses like the morning mist.
Oh, return to me,
    for I have paid the price to set you free.”
(Isaiah 44:19-22 NLT)

The Golden Calf Awards By Lorraine Triggs

On Sunday in Kindergarten Bible school, we gave out the 2025 Golden Calf Award. It was a close contest as the children and teachers voted on what they really, really, really would love to have. The entries ranged from all the candy you could eat for a year to your favorite sports team throwing you a birthday party to the pet of your choice and you didn’t have to clean up its business to one million dollars. The two finalists were the pet and the money. I was rooting for the pet.

But when the votes were counted, the clear winner of the 2025 Gold Calf Award? One million dollars. The kids went wild, shouting the chant, “Money, money, money!” 

Wil calmed them down with a missionary story about Martin Luther, which turned out to be a providential choice considering the winner of the Golden Calf Award. Luther had no tolerance for using money to gain standing with God. I am certain that Martin Luther was not the winner of the 1517 Golden Calf Award.

As we made the transition to the actual golden calf in Exodus 32, we explained to the kids that loving money or anything or anyone else more than God was just wrong, a sin. In making and worshiping an object, God’s people had just broken the first commandment, “You shall have no other gods before me,” and the reason why they broke it? They had grown impatient. Moses wasn't rushing down the mountain, so let's make other gods. Makes sense to me.

The whole story would be funny, if it weren't still true for us today, I can become a bit obsessed with personal nominees for my very own Golden Calf award. Some days my idols of choice are elevated to a finalist through my association with the right people in the right places, as I am careful to avoid the poor in spirit, the meek and those who mourn. Then there are days when the glitter of my stash of talents and treasures distract me from the true treasure and the true prize.

Whether we chalk up our idols to impatience or another excuse, loving anyone or anything more than God is dangerous business. Just ask the children of Israel who drank the gold dust from their now shattered calf.

Instead of drinking the gold dust, Jesus invites us to come and drink of living water, to feast on living bread and be satisfied. Whatever we love in life can't hold a candle to one we love beyond life.

Wrote Thomas à Kempis in The Imitation of Christ: “Whoever find Jesus finds a great treasure, yea, a good above all good; and he who loses Jesus loses much yea, more than the world. Poorest of all is the one who lives without Jesus, and richest of all is the one who is close to Jesus.” 

Once we grasp Jesus as our greatest treasure, our greatest good—our very life—then everything else is worthless because we have all that matters in life and death, forever.

A Prayer for the New Year By Wil Triggs

Heavenly Father,
Maker of all things,
The One who holds all things in his hands,
We bless you for the richness and depth of your mercy and love.
 
As we begin the year, 
let us start with thankful hearts, postures of humility,
openness to new and better things from you.
 
Thank you for our homes.
Help us to remember those who are without homes or feel far from home.
Thank you for our community.
Help us to open ourselves to those who feel as if they have no community.
Thank you for the freedom to openly worship you.
Help us to remember those who risk their lives to practice their faith.
 
Thank you for our city leaders.
Give them wisdom from on high to lead us in ways beyond ourselves.
Thank you for our courts and their officers.
Help them to faithfully seek mercy, justice and peace.
Thank you for our sheriffs and our police.
Guide them in the way of peace in the midst of trouble.
 
Thank you for the creative beauty of our park district and forest preserves. 
They help us to see your handiwork all around us.
Thank you for our school administrators, teachers and staff.
Bless them as they bless our children with the gift of learning.
Thank you for our neighbors.
May we bless them throughout the coming year with our presence and care.
 
Thank you for College Church
And the gift of giving ourselves
To this church and its people.
Help us to serve with all that we are,
With everything we have,
With our hopes, treasures, trials and dreams.
 
Guide and protect those who lead our congregation.
Empower them by your Spirit
To lead with your wisdom, not theirs,
To teach with your Word, not the word of man,
To give of themselves like Christ for his bride.
Help our following to be grumble-free.
 
Thank you that you make us messengers.
Bless our messages with your grace and love.
We ask you to make 2025 a year of blessing and growth for our people, community, nation and world. 
May many discover the life-changing wonder of Jesus.
Bring peace, we pray.

Father, Son, Holy Spirit, may we bless you with everything that we are, with all that we have, in our weaknesses and our strengths, we pray. 

May you bless us and may we bless others in new and unexpected ways in the days ahead, we pray. 
 
Thank you for the blessing of prayer. May we pray and grow in prayer through good and bad and glorify you in word and deed.
 
Amen
This prayer was adapted from a prayer written for the Wheaton Leadership Prayer Breakfast.