Author: newkingjim

When I was a kid, the news was full of stories about a program called SEALAB. I was really enthralled with these experimental underwater habitats and even wrote stories about my own fictional city under the sea. I’m sure my stories violated every known scientific principle involving the ocean and its mysterious depths, but they were fun. It was some time after SEALAB that I first learned about the lost city of Atlantis and the idea that there was an actual city under the sea. Of course, I was quickly searching the library for any information on Atlantis.

I’m an adult, now. Well, sometimes an adult! Anyway, I’m still interested in Atlantis although I’m skeptical about its actual existence. In my online researching, I was surprised to discover that there are a number of actual sunken cities around the world. One of these sites is Dwarka, in northwest India.

The modern city of Dwarka is a pilgrimage site where, for centuries, people have come regularly to worship Hindu gods in the many temples built throughout the city. But in the 1960s, right around the time of SEALAB, archaeologists found artifacts that convinced them that there was some kind of structure offshore. Ongoing work led to the discovery of various structures including crumbling walls, lengthy stone staircases, and other ruins. After doing all their archaeological magic, the experts determined that this was likely the ruins of ‘ancient Dwarka,’ a place mentioned in the ancient texts of India.

I might not have paid too much attention to underwater Dwarka if it hadn’t been for a recent news story. Last year, Narendra Modi, the Prime Minister of India, dove down to the ancient ruins to pray. For him it was an intense spiritual moment. It got me thinking about the importance of getting away from our everyday lives to concentrate on God and our spiritual health. I’m not inclined to dive down to sunken ruins, though. I prefer sitting on the beach looking out at the vastness of the ocean with a couple of devotional books by my side. And an ice cold Pepsi in my hand.

from the pen of Jeff Joyner

It was New Year’s Eve, and some friends asked if I wanted to go to a party with them. I was a college student finishing up my last couple of courses, with plans to graduate the following June. I had nothing going on that night, so I decided to go. Once we got there, I knew the storyline for me was going to be the same. Get intoxicated and sleep it off the next day. Yet there was something different about that night.

As I stood on the threshhold of a new year, it appeared my future looked very bright. Not only would I be a college graduate, but there was also a high probability I would land my dream job in the airline industry. In spite of all this, l still felt a sense of turmoil and dread regarding the future. I knew it had much to do with a decision I had made seven years earlier to walk away from God, and live life on my own terms. As time went by, instead of finding freedom and fulfillment, I found only pain and anxiety.

As midnight approached, I quietly broke away from the crowd and walked into the restroom. I stood there for several moments staring at my reflection in the mirror. It was as if my face was totally unrecognizable. Finally, in my despair I yelled out loud, “Who are you?” As I stared in silence, I knew I had to make some changes in my life. Though I was never one for New Year’s resolutions, it was then that I made a decision to turn around and begin my journey back to the Lord.

I experienced a lot of change the following year. I rededicated my life to Christ and committed to follow Him for the rest of my life. I also graduated from college and landed my dream job in the airline industry. Toward the end of that year, God called me into full time music ministry, of which I am still a part of today. But it all goes back to that New Year’s Eve. For it was there that God brought me to the end of myself, restoring both my life and my hope for the future. And for that I am eternally grateful.

“In my distress I called upon the LORD; to my God I cried for help.” Psalm‬ ‭18‬:‭6‬

The Rosetta Stone was one of the very first things that got me interested in archaeology. Or in dead, old things as I often say. It was a seventh grade teacher who made history so interesting I never stopped reading about it. This teacher talked about the importance of the Rosetta Stone in discovering how to interpret hieroglyphics. From the Rosetta Stone, I went on to exploring all kinds of strange artifacts from the past. This blog has talked about many of them but I’m really intrigued by this stone.

For almost 1500 years, no human beings could decipher the Egyptian hieroglyphics. We had many scrolls, tablets, and carvings written in the Egyptian language but no way to understand what they were saying. If that seems moderately unimportant, just imagine someone in the distant future discovering a library of books but being unable to read the language they were written in. That situation would give me an anxiety attack.

The Rosetta Stone solved the hieroglyph problem. It’s just a large chunk of black granite, but it contains the written decree of Ptolemy V. This decree was important enough that it was carved into stone. Furthermore, it was carved in three different texts, each one on top of the other. The picture I’ve included shows the stone and insets of each of the texts. The top is Egyptian hieroglyphs. The middle is another Egyptian text. The bottom is in ancient Greek. Since scholars understood how to read ancient Greek, they were able to compare that to the hieroglyphic text. It took a lot of people a long time, but by learning from the Rosetta Stone the key to interpreting the symbols was discovered. Today, you can buy a heiroglyphic dictionary and teach yourself to write in Egyptian pictures

𓄀𓅱𓈖𓏏𓂋𓏭𓏤𓀀

from the pen of Jeff Joyner

A few years ago, I decided to sit out on our front porch one last time before the arrival of Winter. As I rocked for a while in my chair, I thought about all that had transpired through recent years. It seemed that everywhere I turned, people were hurting, pain was running rampant, and darkness was threatening to settle over the whole earth. As I pondered this for a while, I finally said in a one sentence prayer: “It’s a weary world, Lord.” As soon as I uttered those words, one of my favorite Christmas carols immediately came to mind:

O holy night
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of the
Dear Savior’s birth

Long lay the world in sin
And error pining
Till He appeared and the
Soul felt its worth

A thrill of hope
The weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a
New and glorious morn

Fall on your knees
O hear the angel voices
O night divine, O night when
Christ was born
O night, O holy night
O night divine

Jesus is the hope for a weary world. And though it may appear that darkness has settled over all the earth, it’s important to remember that this Jesus who’s birth we celebrate, is the Light of the world. And this LIGHT will come once again, to usher in a “new and glorious morn.”

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.” John‬ ‭1:5‬

This is one of eleven churches in Lalibela, Ethiopia. There’s something of a mystery about them as they were apparently chiseled out of the rock from the top down. King Lalibela visited Jerusalem in the 13th century and received a vision/command to recreate Jerusalem in his Ethiopian country. I have to admit that if I received a command from God to dig and chisel for the last 20 years of my life, I would likely argue vociferously.

These churches aren’t solid structures, though. You can go inside them. They are a popular pilgrimage site for Christians. There are some who believe the Knights Templar helped in the construction of these churches and that the Ark of the Covenant was kept inside. It doesn’t seem like that great a hiding place until you consider that there is supposedly a 12th church that no one has found yet.

Whenever I see pictures of these churches, I wonder what happens when it rains. I mean, Ethiopia gets 40 to 80 inches of rain a year. That’s comparable to Florida. Those churches would be frequently underwater if they were built where I live. There must be some kind of drainage system, but how do you drain a giant hole in the ground? All I know is that the humans of the past were capable of amazing achievements even without modern technology and equipment. When it comes to these kinds of things, the how is often better understood than the why.

Sometimes, the greatest pleasure comes from the simplest of things. Whenever I’m at theme parks, or even just a store like Target or WalMart, I enjoy looking at the stuffed animals. Yes, I even pick them up and feel how soft they are. Yes, sometimes I even play with them and make them growl or cheep. Yes, I occasionally make them talk to my wife.

Simplicity is a concept that has been around almost as long as human beings. Several decades ago, there was a commercial with the jingle, “Life’s simple pleasures are the best…” No, I’m not going to tell you what product was being advertised with that jingle. But you can still find it in the grocery stores. Several hundred years ago, there was a guy named William of Occam. He lived an interesting life, eventually being condemned by the Pope for his arguments and writings about the Church. He was tried for heresy but escaped on a horse in the night. We know his name because of ‘Occam’s Razor,’ an idea that suggests the simplest explanation for something is probably the correct explanation. (To my philosophically minded friends, yes I oversimplified Occam’s Razor). Most recently, Marie Kondo has made a fortune telling us all to simplify and get rid of our junk.

Simplicity has been a basic component of most monastic communities, no matter which religious persuasion they may be. Benedict of Nursia codified his monastic rules, which we now know as the rule of St. Benedict. Francis of Assisi had his own rules, as did many other Catholic church leaders (AKA ‘saints’). The most famous monastic community today is the Mt. Athos community in Greece. There are amazing stories about supernatural occurrences there, which basically draws more and more people to visit the monastery. I suspect that monastic tourism does not make it easy for monks to maintain their simplistic lifestyle.

Many things can distract us from the most important things in our lives. Living a more simple, scaled down life can help keep distractions out of our lives and allow us to focus on the things that mean the most to us. I know I certainly am far too distracted by unimportant stuff. Jesus told us not to store up treasures on earth, so maybe Marie Kondo is on the right track. As for me, I’m heading out to play with some stuffed animals to help me remember to simplify my life and focus on what’s really important.

from the pen of Jeff Joyner

Jesus shared many parables, but the story of the prodigal son in Luke 15, is one of my very favorites. The reason being, is that there are so many parallels in the story to my own life. Few things are more tragic than someone walking away from the one who loves them the most. It’s a lonely place, where we can feel stranded and unsure of how to find our way back. Thinking about this passage prompted me to share my own “Prodigal Parable.”

“There once was a boy named Jeff, who heard the good news of Jesus Christ early in his life. Understanding that Jesus paid the penalty for his sin through His death on the cross, he responded in faith and received Him as Savior and Lord. Unfortunately, once Jeff reached his teen years, he walked away from the Lord and began to live life “recklessly.” After a period of seven years, in sheer hopelessness, he finally hit rock bottom.

It was at that time that Jeff began looking upward. Sensing that his Heavenly Father was there standing with open arms, he returned home where his Father embraced him with love and forgiveness, and assured him that the joy of Heaven awaits. Though life here on earth will still have it’s challenges, Jeff will always have access to the hope and peace that only His Savior can bring.”

“Return to the Lord your God, for he is merciful and compassionate, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love. He is eager to relent and not punish.” Joel‬ ‭2:13‬ ‭

from the pen of Jeff Joyner

I had just transitioned into the position of Worship Pastor at a large church in Southern California. The church had a long tradition of presenting elaborate Easter musical dramas depicting the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Although I had traveled for many years with a contemporary Christian band and had written a lot of music, I had never really conducted a large choir and orchestra. It would be a very steep learning curve.

Out of necessity, I began preparing for Easter several months ahead of time. As I started contemplating which direction I should go for that special Sunday, I began to feel extremely stressed. Easter had traditionally been the church’s largest event, and 3,000 people would be attending. The pressure continued to mount. One day while praying, I thought about the old hymn “Man of Sorrows.” Unable to remember all the words, I grabbed a hymnal to refresh my memory.

“Man of Sorrows what a name

For the Son of God who came

Ruined sinners to reclaim

Hallelujah, what a Savior.”

By the end of the day, I had decided to write an original Easter musical, which would combine songs I had written, along with “Man of Sorrows” and other hymns of the faith. In the weeks that followed, though the songs would come to me, peace did not. It seemed the closer to Easter I got, the more stress I experienced. I literally felt crushed by the pressure to “perform.”

Easter finally arrived. All the songs were written. All the rehearsals were done. Yet I still wondered why I had never experienced peace in the process. Then in the midst of the musical, the answer finally came. As we began one of the songs I had written, I began to watch as a spectator. Directly in front of me, I could see Jesus on the cross. I began to envision the agony he went through on my behalf. I was reminded of his sacrifice which forever bought my pardon. Up to that moment I had only thought of “performance.” But performance could never buy my pardon. Jesus did. As we transitioned into “Nothing but the Blood of Jesus”, I’m sure the choir could see the tears rolling down my face. But it didn’t matter. I was free. Below is a short video clip of that special moment when the peace of God finally returned to my tired, weary soul.

“But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.” Isaiah‬ ‭53‬:‭5‬ ‭

from the pen of Jeff Joyner

This is an old photograph of my Grandparent’s house in Virginia. Though the house has since been taken down, many of my memories from childhood still linger. The railroad track was right across the street, and the house would shake with each passing locomotive. The sound of the gravel driveway would always signal a glorious reunion was only moments away. The smell of chicken, ham, or fresh vegetables provided a comfort that nurtured a true sense of belonging. But what permeated most throughout the house, was the love our grandparents had for us.

It was always a highlight for me to sit down for meals, where we would enjoy all the fresh food cultivated on their farm. They would always conclude with some sort of homemade dessert, which my grandmother would lovingly prepare. When we were done, we kids would usually sit on the screen porch, too full to even consider going out to play. Throughout the years, I must have enjoyed hundreds of those meals at my grandparent’s house. Yet there was one meal in particular that always comes to mind.

It was dinner time and we were all called to our seat at the table. Surprised at how much food had been prepared, I asked where it all came from. My Granddaddy proceeded to tell me that they got it all from their farm, which was located outside of town. After hearing this, I blurted out, “I can’t believe all this food is free!” Everybody around the table began to burst out laughing. As a child, I obviously had no understanding of what was really sacrificed to put that food on the table.

I will never forget the sights, smells, and sounds of my grandparent’s house. They will be forever be imprinted on my heart. Yet there is a place which far surpasses that. It’s a place that Jesus has gone to prepare for me. A place I will have access to because of His great sacrifice. A place of joy. A place of peace. A place where the love of the Savior permeates throughout the entire house. A place where the sounds from the streets of gold signal that glorious reunions are only moments away.

“Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust also in me. There is more than enough room in my Father’s home.” John‬ ‭14‬:‭1‬ NLT‬‬

from the pen of Jeff Joyner

As Christmas was approaching, I reflected on all that had transpired the previous few years. It seemed that everywhere I turned, people were hurting, pain was running rampant, and darkness was threatening to settle over the whole earth. As I pondered this for a while, I finally said in a one sentence prayer: “It’s a weary world, Lord.” As soon as I uttered those words, one of my favorite Christmas carols immediately came to mind:

O holy night
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of the
Dear Savior’s birth

Long lay the world in sin
And error pining
Till He appeared and the
Soul felt its worth

A thrill of hope
The weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a
New and glorious morn

Fall on your knees
O hear the angel voices
O night divine, O night when
Christ was born
O night, O holy night
O night divine

Jesus is the hope for a weary world. And though it may appear that darkness is settling over all the earth, it’s important to remember, that this Jesus who’s birth we celebrate is the Light of the world. And this LIGHT will come once again, to usher in another “new and glorious morn.”

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.” John‬ ‭1:5‬