Author: Chris Luzio

Noah was told by God to build for himself an ark of gopher wood, but then told he should enter the ark with his wife, his sons, and their wives. Since we all descended not just from Adam and Eve, but from Noah’s family, I’m glad he took
them with him. With all the animals on board, I’m not sure they all enjoyed the
cruise, but were glad they were invited.

Obviously I’m not Noah, but I too have invited my family to join me on a cruise. It won’t last over a year, but only seven days. And while we may be a tad crowded in small cabins, we won’t be sharing quarters with all the animals on earth. However, we will have a chance to hug a sloth. No, not a lazy old man, but the three-toed variety.

Yes, I’m taking my family, including a new grandson-in-law and future grandson-in-law, on a Caribbean cruise. We’ll be leaving New Orleans on July 28th, and returning to port on August 4th. After a couple of days at sea, we’ll hug a sloth, soar over the jungle on ziplines, and spend a little time on a beach in Roatan, Honduras. The next day we’ll visit a Mayan ruin and go tubing on a river through caves in Belize. Then, after seeing sights, shopping, or snorkeling in Cozumel, we’ll spend a final day on the ship heading home.

I tell you all of this because I can’t think of anything else to write, and because I
really want to thank you for making all this possible.

When Marilyn and I went on a cruise for our 25th anniversary, I met an older
gentleman who brought all his kids and grandkids on the cruise with him. I loved
the idea, and hoped I could do the same someday. Over a year ago I decided I
could, and booked the cruise.

You have generously supported me for over fifty years, and even sent Marilyn
and me to the Holy Land several months ago. Your love and support is very much appreciated.

God Bless, Rick

What is it you want to leave behind for your kids and grandkids? What do you want carried into future generations?

Marilyn and I have closets and storage bins full of pictures and memorabilia, some of it left to us by past generations. You hope some of it will be treasured, but some will just remain in storage, and some will be discarded. And there are some things you may simply decide not to leave behind. My Harley is one of those.

For years I’ve said either Matt or Paul would get the Harley. Paul suggested he’d
let Matt take me, and he’d just take the Harley, but I insisted whoever got me got
the Harley. I’m pretty sure Paul was just kidding, and I hope the need for someone to take me never comes, but I did think the Harley would go to someone. Until I thought again about it.

Marilyn and I have thoroughly enjoyed taking motorcycle trips over the years. We’ve ridden through deserts, which she really didn’t enjoy, and along coastlines, over mountains, and through the redwoods on the seat of a bike. I’ve ridden since I was fifteen, and have been very fortunate to only require stitches once, and break five ribs, in the process. Matt and Paul both rode off-road bikes for a short time in their youth, but neither have road experience on a big bike. And they’re both getting older.

Even experienced older riders lose some of the skills necessary to survive the mean streets. So not wanting to be responsible
for their possible demise, and not wanting to further test the patience of my guarding angel, I decided to sell the Harley.

So what am I going to leave behind? How about a deep love for the Lord, and
homes that honor Him? No one could want a better legacy. And, thanks be to God, it looks like that’s what I’m going to be able to leave behind.

I have a son and daughter who sought out committed Christian spouses, and who are raising grandkids who love the Lord. And this weekend I’ll have the privilege of uniting Grace and Zach in holy matrimony.

What more could anyone want, or hope to leave behind?

God Bless, Rick

We called them locust shells, and hung them on our shirt in the hopes of scaring girls. Now we know they aren’t locusts, but cicadas. Still, when they immerged by the thousands under our maple tree I couldn’t help but think of the warning Moses gave to Pharoah. “For if you refuse to let My people go, behold, tomorrow I will bring locusts into your territory. And they shall cover the surface of the land, so that no one shall be able to see the land.”
Yes, cicadas were crawling all over our tree and covered the ground under it. I don’t know if they are the 13 or 17 year variety, but they are smaller than the ones that appear in small numbers annually. They are no doubt the offspring of the ones that attacked our maple when it was a sapling a couple of generations ago.
They had inserted their eggs on the delicate branches, leaving scars that took years to disappear, and then burrowed under ground to feast on sap from the roots before heading back up the tree. I know I can’t stop them, because after brushing thousands of them off of the now mature maple, they start crawling back up before I can get around the tree.
While thinking about their immergence from the ground, I started thinking about my immergence back into the pulpit. My seven week absence from the pulpit is the longest I’ve gone without preaching in 53 years. Not that I haven’t enjoyed it. I’ve enjoyed hearing Mark preach, and got pretty good at filling out his outlines, even managing to fill in a blank or two before he got there.
I have discovered, however, that I really do like being in a pulpit more than being in a pew. And I certainly hope my reappearance isn’t viewed as the return of a noisy cicada, but as a preacher who’s excited to get back to doing what he still feels called to do.

God Bless, Rick

Years ago Marilyn was boxing up some old books for an auction when three of them caught her eye. The first was a 1935 edition of Anne of Green Gables, one of her favorite stories, and a place we had to visit on a motorcycle ride to Prince Edward Island. The second was an 1884 edition of The Story of the Bible with 300 illustrations. The third was an early 1800s edition of Practical View, published in 1797 by William Wilberforce, the Member of Parliament who fought for legislation against the British slave trade for 20 years.

Due to their fragile condition the books were seldom handled, and simply found a place of honor on our mantle. Until I got curious about them again, a few weeks ago.

The title page of The Story of the Bible actually reads The Story of the Bible From Genesis to Revelation. Told in Simple Language Adapted to all Ages, But especially to the Young. The author noted that his book was not the Bible, nor meant to take the Bible’s place, but was intended to stimulate the reading and study of the Bible itself by young people. Something that certainly ought to be encouraged today.

The full title of Wilberforce’s book is A Practical View of the Prevailing Religious System of Professed Christians in the Middle and Higher Classes in this Country, Contrasted with Real Christianity. It quickly became a bestseller, was translated into several languages, and countless editions have been printed over the past two centuries. I must admit that it’s a difficult book to read, and have already been warned by astute family members not to offer it as a Sunday night study next year. But please do read the introduction and an excerpt from chapter one that can be found below. His book was a scathing rebuke to Christians of 200 years ago who failed to put into practice what they professed to believe and what they read in the Bible. His rebuke is no doubt still needed today.

God Bless, Rick

The main object which the writer has in view is, not to convince the sceptic, or to answer the arguments of persons who avowedly oxppose the fundamental doctrines of our religion; but to point out the scanty and erroneous system of the bulk of those who belong to the class of orthodox Christians, and to contrast their defective scheme with a representation of what the author apprehends to be real Christianity. Often has it filled him with deep concern to observe in this description of persons scarcely any distinct knowledge of the real nature and principles of the religion which they profess. The subject is of infinite importance; let it not be driven out of our minds by the bustle or dissipations of life. This resent scene, with all its cares and all its gayeties, will soon be rolled away, and “we must stand before the
judgment-seat of Christ.” This awful consideration will prompt the writer to express himself with greater freedom than he should otherwise be disposed to use. This consideration, he trusts, also will justify his frankness, and will secure him a serious and patient perusal.
Let it only be further premised, that if what shall be stated should to any appear needlessly austere and rigid, the writer must lay in his claim not to be condemned without a frail inquiry whether or not his statements accord with the language of the sacred writing. To that test he refers with confidence; and it
must be conceded by those who admit the authority of Scripture, that from the decision of the word of God there can be no appeal.
There are some few facts, and perhaps some leading doctrines and principles, of which they cannot be wholly ignorant; but of the consequences, and relations, and practical uses of these, they have few ideas, or none at all.
Does this seem too strong? View their plan of life and their ordinary conduct; and not to speak at present of their general inattention to things of a religious nature, let us ask, wherein can we discern the points of discrimination between them and professed unbelievers? In an age wherein it is confessed and lamented that infidelity abounds, do we observe in them any remarkable care to instruct their children in the principles of the faith they profess, and to furnish them with arguments for the defense of it?

Touchstone, a journal of mere Christianity published by conservative Protestant, Catholic, and Orthodox Christians, recently had an editorial that seems to indicate the Reformation we’ve been studying on Sunday nights is an on-going process.

“December 18, 2023, will go down in history as the date on which the die was
cast: the date on which the church renounced the gospel’s right to call us to
repentance; the date that, more than any other, signals the church’s implosion in the West.

“Of course, long before this fateful date on which Pope Francis signaled his approval of the ‘Blessing of same-sex couples’, indications abounded that not all was well… It is hard to imagine anyone doing more damage more effectively to the Catholic Church and to Christianity as a whole than Pope Francis has done with this declaration.

“Of course, every attempt will be made to explain that Fiducia Supplicans merely offers a blessing to people in need of God’s love and mercy… This so-called “pastoral” declaration utterly fails such people, for it refuses to hold out to them the way of love and truth, which is the age-old, ascetical path that we take by saying no to our sinful desires.

“The Church of England sanctioned blessings of same-sex couples only weeks
before the pope took the same leap… We cannot overstate the significance of the near-simultaneous breakdown of the Catholic and Anglican communions, for it means that the two key Western institutions that have nurtured Christian civilization since the time of the Reformation will do so no more… When we tie Christian identity to the anchor of prevailing cultural mores, what we end up with is flotsam of planks and poles, which tell the tale of a great ship that once sailed choppy cultural waters and didn’t manage to stay afloat.

“Only one thing can prevent this date from going into history as one of the most tragic dates in the church’s history: it is the conscious and deliberate reconnection of the pastoral and the theological. This means revoking…and prohibiting the blessing of same-sex couples, while unambiguously insisting on the pastoral counsel that same-sex activity is sinful and, as such, requires repentance.”

God Bless, Rick