Well,
if you checked the last time I wrote anything on this blog, it was
quite a while back (looks like more than two years). I haven't really
been too interested in blogging for a while. A lot may have to do
with my putting out a weekly devotional on Facebook, and also doing
lots more songwriting than I ever have. Anyway, those are the two
main reasons that I think I haven't come back to do anything with
this page. So it's time I wrap up writing on this blog. So far as
getting spiritual insights into current events (however bewildering
and overloading they are), there are other writers on the net who can
help with that; one great Christian writer I highly recommend is
Michael Brown.
So
I thought I would wrap up this blog with a tribute to a personal
friend of mine, who passed away this week at the age of 70: Barry
Rataiczak.
I've
been very blessed in my life to have had a great succession of
pastors, who were used by God to speak into my life at various times.
I still lean on wisdom that I got through them even today. Barry was
one of those in that great line—but I have to say, he was the one
who was not just a pastor or friend, but a spiritual mentor.
In
praying about how I would write this, one phrase came to mind: open
door. Obviously, this is one of the names of Jesus, and in Revelation
3:7-8, we see where Jesus places in our lives open doors to carry out his
will, just as he did for the faithful church of Philadelphia.
But
I had never thought of a person in my life being an open door used by
God. And that is what Barry was to me, from the time I first met him
in the mid 80s, when he took over as pastor of a church in the
southern Ohio town where I lived. We immediately became friends, and
his door was always open for times of fellowship. I also knew I could
always go to him with any burdens I was carrying. This was especially
critical during a time when I was ministering in a church in a
neighboring town, where I came across some really rough waters. Barry
was always there to encourage me through those times, and others that
would follow. His door was always open to me when I needed prayer and
encouragement.
Barry
was also an open door for me to discover new ideas and teachings that
were outside my denominational box. I read where one writer said that
churches at times can get stagnant, and that they need a "fresh
wind of truth" from another part of Body of Christ to be
revitalized (one purpose for the gift of discernment, which the
writer was discussing). I remember one time in Barry's office,
discussing how I came across the name of some great spiritual writer
named St. John of the Cross—and if Barry had ever heard of him.
Barry simply reached back into his library and pulled out a copy of
Ascent
of Mount Carmel,
to my utter shock. I learned from him not to be too gun shy about
writers and teachers from other Christian traditions: so I was introduced to St.
John of the Cross, Kierkegaard, and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, among
others. Even those who come from traditions we sharply disagree with
can shed additional light on our spiritual path. My spiritual life
became so much richer after Barry taught me that, especially through
our discussions on those great works.
Then
there was Barry being an open door for me into new ministry
opportunities. There were several I simply helped him with, such as
volunteering at an inner city mission in Cincinnati. And Barry gave
me a great opportunity to minister when I became his associate pastor
as his church.
Then
there was the major decision I was faced with in the fall of 1993,
when I was asked to take over the Chi Alpha campus ministry at
Morehead State in Kentucky. At first, I didn't know what to make of
it, and at that time, I greatly enjoyed ministering at Barry's church
(I was named associate pastor only months earlier). When I shared this
with Barry, he said, "As much as I want you to stay here, you
have to follow God's will if he wants you in Morehead." God
later confirmed that word, and it turned into a life-changing
decision in taking over that ministry the following fall semester,
watching God miraculously line up everything as I followed Him in
faith. At subsequent XA reunions, Pastor Ron Hamm, who asked me to
take over the XA ministry (and who was the best XA mentor I could
ever ask for), talked about how much he admired Barry for his
unselfish, godly counsel—and he never even had the chance to meet
him! I can never thank God enough for Barry speaking God's counsel
into my life, especially at such a critical juncture.
Well,
I wish I could go on to say that we stayed in close contact after my
taking on campus ministry. But our paths, for some reason or other,
took off in different directions, and we lost contact with each other
for a long time. So I was excited when we finally got back in touch
with each other last year through Facebook, and he and his wife Josie
came to visit our family in Kentucky. I could see immediately how
Barry was affected by the Agent Orange poisoning he suffered while
in the Air Force in Vietnam—but his spirit was joyful and buoyant
as ever, as he excitedly asked each of my kids, "Do you love
Jesus?" and talked to me and Melissa about his visit to
International House of Prayer in Kansas City, where God greatly
touched him. That visit from him and Josie was one I will always
greatly treasure.
This
mentor, this open door God placed in my life, is now standing on
streets of gold before Jesus, rejoicing in perfect health before our
Lord. Please say a prayer for Josie, their three children and the
rest of the family through this difficult time. And never forget to
be thankful to God for those people who are open doors for Him in
your life—just as Barry was in mine.