CEDARS OF LEBANON

The righteous will flourish like a palm tree, they will grow like a Cedar of Lebanon. (Psalm 92:12)

So give orders that Cedars of Lebanon be cut for me. My men will work with yours, and I will pay you for your men whatever wages you set. (1st Kings 5:6)

Last night was our Wednesday night mid-week service, and one of our lay ministers spoke on the topic of The Cedars of Lebanon. Of course, Bro. Martin referred to a couple of scriptures in the Old Testament, and the building of Solomon’s Temple, but his sermon had little to do with the literal Cedars of Lebanon, but rather, the proverbial or figurative trees of that variety.
Given the implication of the first paragraph, you may have picked up on his metaphor. You see, the allusion here is to those people who have exercised a positive influence on our lives. And the good man went on to enumerate various people who, throughout the course of his life, helped, blessed, admonished, encouraged and/or guided him.
I can so well relate since such ‘Cedars of Lebanon’ have made a profound difference in my own life. Now to be sure I readily admit, (to my disadvantage) I have never had what I might describe as a mentor; except perhaps dead ones. (People like Peter Marshall, Amy Carmichael, Eric Liddell, and Jim Elliot; those heroes of the faith who have left not only their writings behind, but their spiritual legacies).
As I have inferred, there have been those people whom God set in my pathway who “stepped up to the plate” and fulfilled God’s momentary will; at least momentary in terms of their influence on yours truly. And in so doing, each and every one of these who cooperated with His leading enhanced my Christian preparation, function and maturity.
There are two particular individuals upon whose shoulders I stand. Men of faith. Men who, in turn, stood upon the shoulders of my spiritual grandparents. For you see, these two of whom I speak were my spiritual fathers, and who, for lack of time and space I will limit the remainder of my story.
I graduated from high school in 1967 from the oldest high school in Florida’s Polk County; ‘Summerlin Institute.’ And I had only just graduated the previous month when another Summerlin graduate, and friend of mine invited me to join him at a revival meeting hosted by a local Bible College. I have long since forgotten whether I attended more than one of the weekly services, but I will never forget the particular meeting which impacted the entire rest of my natural life.
A ‘Bro. William Kirschke,’ the then Assemblies of God National Sunday School Superintendent, stepped to the pulpit and proceeded to share a Gospel message with the assembled throng. As he closed his message, and as you might expect, he offered anyone who would the opportunity to “walk the old sawdust trail” to the front of the college chapel, and kneel at the altar. As John Wesley once phrased it, “my heart was strangely warmed.” And before I realized it, I stood up and walked in the direction of the stage.
Although I was raised in the Methodist Church, and was greatly impacted by its music, I had never, ‘til now, “bent the knee” at what has been referred to as an “old fashioned altar.” Thus, everything about this experience was a bit alien to me.
I had no sooner kneeled, and perhaps momentarily wondered, “what comes next” than an older gentleman knelt down beside me, introduced himself as ‘Jerry Triemstra’ and invited me to repeat “The Sinner’s Prayer.” As I recall, he encouraged me to say the words aloud, and in so doing I ‘picked up’ on his foreign accent. As I later learned, Jerry was a Dutch immigrant, and a former missionary to South America.
I never saw either of these two men again, though as I approached the grand old age of 2/3 of a century I set out to discover what I could about each of them. My quest was not in vain.
Having contacted the National Headquarters of the Assemblies of God organization I procured an article about the late Rev. Kirschke; which included a poor newspaper photo; but a photo, nonetheless. A couple of years later I managed to speak to the secretary of Rev. Triemstra’s church. While he had long since gone on to his heavenly reward, ‘Ms. Langley’ was able to procure a nice picture of Jerry and his family, and a bit of background information. And interestingly enough, one of my ‘Facebook cousins’ made me aware that her grandparents had been friends with the Triemstra’s.
Standing on the Shoulders of Giants
Ironically enough, the next year after my conversion experience, I enrolled at the same college where I came to know the Savior, and four decades later I was blessed to serve as an adjunct professor there; now a Christian-based, liberal arts university boasting 10x the original student body.
God has given thousands of men, women, boys and girls to my oversight, as over the past 25 years I have ministered as a pastoral counselor.
And though I never had a mentor, and perhaps as a response to this oversight, I have given a significant amount of time and effort to exercising a mentor role in the lives of dozens of young and not so young persons.
There’s a scene in the movie, “Dances With Wolves” in which an old mule skinner, and the military character are seen conversing about the former’s family, and their desire to see him at the end of his journey. Given the dangers posed by Indians and the thousand miles which lay between, he exclaims,
“I hope I don’t disappoint them!”
In the same way, I hope I don’t disappoint my spiritual fathers, as the result of the inherent dangers of the Christian journey, or simply the result of getting my eyes off the prize, or falling by the proverbial wayside. I can see them standing in the bleachers of heaven cheering me on. How I look forward to meeting them and spending a bit of quality time with both of them.
And like Rev.’s Kirschke and Triemstra, I honor my heritage by building a legacy. I am committed to becoming one of those giants upon whose shoulders someone else stands. One of those Cedars of Lebanon who stands straight, and strong and tall and beckons others to do the same.
And though I love William and Jerry and owe them a debt I can never repay, I think they and all whom God ever set in my pathway can wait.
My allegiance is to the lowly Nazarene; the God-man and Creator of the universe. He who spilt His last drop of blood for you and me, and who rules and reigns forevermore.
My greatest hope, my most ardent wish, my fondest expectation is to hear those blessed words,

“Well done, my good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Lord.”


  By William McDonald, PhD. From (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 37. Copyright pending

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