At Home

It is Saturday, the day after Christmas 2015, and it is raining, dreary and grey.

So it is that I am at home . . . in my Church Office, preparing for tomorrow's worship services - and I am grateful to be here. Truth be told, I am glad to be so at home in the worship and fellowship facilities of St. Paul UCC, Lebanon . . . I'm feeling the need to be at home in God today.

Earlier in the day I drove to the hospital and spoke with a person who is really struggling with illness and a chronic debilitating condition. Throughout this day my heart has been in constant prayer for friends who are deep in the journey of grief and healing. A few moments ago, I received word from another that a diagnosis had just been received in their life and it was not what they were hoping to hear. For such as these the Gift of Bethlehem comes.

I would invite you to continue the Christmas festivities and gather with me in the pleasure and need of talking with God concerning the world in which we live and our sisters and brothers who are longing for understandable, believable, Spirit-filled answers . . . Will you join me?

Will you join me in Christmas Grace by being gracious to others?

Will you join me in Christmas Joy by sharing joy with others?

Will you join me in Christmas Abundance by giving of yourself for others?

Will you join me in Christmas Healing by sitting with and caring for others?

Will you join me in Christmas Comfort by gathering the uncomfortable into you and your home?

Will you join me in Christmas Love by seeing in others that for which you pray God sees in you?

Will you join me in Christmas Rejoicing by welcoming the opportunity to tell the Story?

Will you join me in Christmas . . . in the Home of God's own heart by praying for others as Christ does for you?

Will you join me in God's Home . . . in the sacred space of family gathered, in community shared, in the quiet of prayer and the raucous wonder of hymns?

Will you join me in God's Home in this day . . . just for the sheer gift of being present with the One who, in Jesus, is Present for you?

The Gospel text for services tomorrow is the story of the 12 year old Jesus lingering in the Temple and saying to his parents, who had thought they had lost him, "Didn't you know that it was necessary for me to be in my Father's house?" 

As it is for Jesus, may it be so for us all. Come, be at Home in God wherever you are, for God has come to be at home, through Jesus, in you.

Blessings in this Christmas Season!

A Perspective on the Shootings in San Bernardino, CA

Take a breath.

In the grist mill of 24/7/365 news outlets and their insatiable need to raise ratings,

In the midst of horrific images being thrust upon the airwaves with increasing urgency that you 'see' and are thirsting to see more,

In the culture of mistrust of those who are perceived as 'different', whether in race, religion, sexuality, ethnicity, or even by vocation,

In the rising wave of political correctness, volatile issues and hot button talking points which command more attention than any attempt at being truly human,

In the fear which is imposed on a community, a state, a nation and our world in acts of brutal savagery that reduce human life and spirit into collateral damage to be counted,

In light of 14 more dead and 17 more injured, not counting the aggressors themselves, in San Bernardino, California,

And with all due respect to events in Paris, the Beirut bombing, the downing of the Russian jet liner, the Turkey peace rally bombing, and the events of war in Syria, Iraq and Afghanistan . . .

Take a breath.

Breathe. Turn off the television and radio. Take in the quiet and listen to your heart.

No, this will not make these egregious events go away or any less complicated, but it will give you, your mind, your heart and your soul a chance to process on your own, without the pressing agendas of the politicians seeking support, special interest groups proving their point, media outlets trying hard to sell air time and relevancy, and fear overwhelming your life. Take a breath. Breathe out, breathe in. Pray.

A publication called the Daily News is receiving a great deal of attention this morning for their current headline, "GOD ISN'T FIXING THIS". I haven't read their article or given a moment of time to their intent, yet my first knee jerk response to reading the headline was, 'They are half right.' God isn't fixing this but, as in the life and ministry of Jesus, as in the moment He was betrayed, tried, and beaten, as in the event of Him being paraded down the streets of Jerusalem and crucified on a cross in the midst of a garbage heap . . . God isn't fixing this, but God is in the midst of it with more power, love, grace, mercy and transformative vision than any magazine, newspaper, television or radio reporter or editor might ever imagine. God is at work in this . . . so be careful of that for which you pray.

Breathe. Pray.

When you pray for Peace, do you really expect God to magically make peace occur in the hearts of women and men across the world?

When you pray for Comfort, do you expect God to be the one who makes whole the hearts of the grieving, as though it could suddenly happen?

When you pray for a cessation of war, do you expect God to silence the weapons of humankind and make merciful the hearts of those who have been and are historically oppressed by the privileged?

When you pray the hungry are fed and the thirsty are given drink, is God the one who is supposed to make the sandwiches and fill the glasses with water?

When you pray for everyone to get along, are you expecting God to meld the hands of victims and oppressors together and have them sing in harmony, "Kum Ba Yah"?

When you pray for sanity and understanding to guide the leaders of our nations, are you imploring God to mystically transform the insanity of our decision making processes and shower down goodwill for all people to receive?

God isn't fixing this, but God is in the midst of it . . . in you.

Perhaps legislating greater control over the sale of weapons would help, but the deeper issue is related to self-control, as opposed to entitlement, self-righteousness, and arrogance towards others. No government can legislate honor, respect of others, common sense or appreciation for the greater community. No government can legislate self-respect, self-control, care for the community or desire to guard the common good. No government can do for the common person what the common person must do for themselves in the building and under-girding of family, faith and community.

While we are busily assigning blame and assuring ourselves that someone else will do what we, personally, must be doing, those who would terrorize us do so by stripping away our assurances of safety, while taking credit for doing it and blithely accepting blame for that which most horrifies us. The world community is shot at, executed, bombed, and land-minded, literally, to death by our own unwillingness to accept responsibility for being peaceable, comforting, patient, understanding, gracious, merciful and hospitable with others.

Muslims are not the terrorists, Christians are not the terrorists, even ISIS is not the terrorists. We who pray to God to do what we ourselves are unwilling to do in our own lives and faith are the terrorists. We who expect others to protect and defend our faith (whatever that is) and our nation against those who are different (whatever that means) in the most humane and politically acceptable manner (depending on the day) and will not ourselves lift a finger or make a commitment or offer our own lives in the care and defensive of the defenseless are the terrorists. We who are better at assigning blame, naming the causes, and identifying the issues than we are at standing shoulder-to-shoulder with our sisters and brothers in caring for the widow, orphan and marginalized among us are the terrorists.

As frightening as all of the warring and civilian killing is around the world, the ones who concern me most are the ones who abdicate the fullness of their humanity in relating to our world as a holy community of sisters and brothers for fear of losing their own life, their own position, their own privilege and their own ease as part of the cost they may have to pay in being just, equitable and whole. No gun-control legislation will cure such narcissism, neither will prayers heal the community rooted in such living.

Breathe, Pray.

God is in the midst of the events of our age . . . inviting us to take up our cross and follow Jesus, not at the expense of, or retaliation towards, those who live and believe differently, but in the ongoing witness those who follow Him make in embracing the Realm of God in the present age. God longs to be at work in you - that the events of San Bernardino, Paris, New York, Pennsylvania, Washington D.C., Syria, Beirut, Egypt, Syria, Iraq and Afghanistan never happen again.

Breathe. Pray. Live.

Live as a people of hope whose confidence in is One whose weapons are exposed at the door of an empty tomb, for there we see Forgiveness, Love and New Life revealed for the first time, all over again, as God wipes away the terror of the night and brings Joy in the dawning of a new day. 

Breathe. Pray. Live.

May God bless the victims, their families and those who tend to them and protect them in San Bernardino . . . and in every age and place . . . as we learn to live together in the Realm of God come near. 

Marriage: A Covenantal Gift of God

I was incredibly blessed to officiate the marriage of our niece, Melissa Wagner, to Corwin Kelly last evening at the Drumm Farm Golf Club in Independence, Missouri. It was the perfect evening, on the perfect place of a golf course, with just the right number of family and friends gathered around, with beautiful music, great food, a great set of attendants, and, of course, a storybook love shared by two incredible people. God is at work here and we are the privileged observers.

The older I become and the longer I am in ministry the more convinced I am that marriage is, indeed, a sacred and holy covenant between two people, a covenant which begins in God, not in the government, nor the church. Biblically speaking, God is the Holy Covenant-Maker. Humanity, at best, tries to keep covenant with God in every moment and aspect of our living. When two people come together in love what is seen in each other, what is seen by those around them, is the presence of God at work in covenant. God binds two hearts together in Spirit and blesses them in grace and mercy, a covenantal process which begins long before two people ever share a marriage vow. God does not need our legalities, our ceremonies, or our approval. God does as God has always done in the midst of humankind: God creates in love and binds in Self-sacrifice for the other. Everything else we add as human-folderol, the vanity of believing we have control and authority over what God is doing, all in the name of maintaining cultural norms and acceptability. Truth be told, if God wanted humanity in charge of maintaining cultural norms and acceptability, Jesus would not have been necessary . . . which may say something about why He was crucified . . . and why God raised Him on the third day.

Reflecting on Cory and Melissa's wedding, I am awestruck and totally amazed at God's breathtaking work, none of which had anything to do with the ceremony and all of which had to do with the two of them. Hollywood is incapable of capturing the essence of what we are honored to view as two people look into each other's eyes and see God's perfection manifest. Such is what humbles me nearly every time I officiate a wedding: Though a servant of Christ in the Church and, for the sake of this one moment in time, a minion of the State as an officiant, I am first and foremost blessed to see God transforming life, embodying dreams, fulfilling visions, and starting new creation. Words may be spoken, vows may be shared, but what God is doing requires no other affirmation than what one person sees in another's heart and trusts 'till death do us part'. It's not sappy, it's true. I know, for I'm married, too.

God bless you, Melissa and Cory, in what God is doing in and through you. May you always find God's Peace strengthening you, not in the vows you have spoken, but in the Covenant you keep for the sake of the other. Such is the love God has for you - and for all who believe.

It's Raining

It's raining. There are few words which will, in the driest of times, stir a farmers heart like those two little words: It's raining.

Driving back from a St. Louis hospital this morning(in the rain, hee-hee!) one of the local radio personalities was bemoaning the overcast, rainy weather we are having and I thought, "It's clear you don't earn your living from the land, nor do you know the difference this rain makes in the quality or cost of the food you buy." I know, I know, most people can only see their own self-interest and what affects it, yet, as dry as it has been one might think a word of joy might be appropriate . . . .

So, rather than bemoan the voice of uninformed ignorance, I take this moment to thank God for prayers answered. I thank God for hearing the cries of the truly 1% of the American population (American farmers) who live in this neck of the woods. I thank God for tending to the needs of the 100% of the people around the world who depend on their labors, their furrowed brows in such times, their clasped hands in humble connection with our Creator, and their unending faith even when prayers for rain are not answered. I thank God for the luxury of praying for the health of crops which grow in responsive joy to the Care they are given. And, I thank God for the grace given to such poor 'schlookers' like me who don't deserve such an abundant gift, yet from whom no good gift is withheld.

Thank you, God, for the rain today. Like the sound of an empty tomb when death is thought to hold sway, it is sweet music to my ears and the kindest of gifts You could offer for the people of the land with whom You work each day. We sing Your praises!

Storm Cabbage

Two days ago, Nancy took a head of cabbage to my Dad's home and another to my brother's home, a 'sharing of the gifts', if you will. The heads of cabbage are nearly as big as bowling balls and are as sweet and thick as cabbages could hope to be, (said as modestly as a gardener might) some of the best we have ever raised and . . .

These heads of cabbage were the 'storm cabbages'. They were ravaged by the intense hail storm we had some weeks back and I was ready to pull them out and start over, so complete their 'destruction'. God's creation is simply remarkable in its capacity to regenerate and begin anew and we, you and I, are constantly invited to be witnesses to such a profound truth expressed in such organic a manner.

Which got me to thinking about the ways we threaten and coerce each other, not just globally, but also locally and even personally. Do we really believe that we hold such power over others and creation? Do we really believe that we are the 'master' of our fate and control the fate of others? Do we really believe that ours is the final voice that matters? Do we really believe that we can rain down the power of hail - or of bombs - or of legislation - or of special interests - or of political correctness - or of abusive relationships - or of isolationist self-interest, covering the ground, filling the sky, polluting the air . . . and our Creator God won't have the final word about the outcome?

The cabbage tastes good. Our 'storm cauliflower' was delicious. Our 'storm banana peppers' are incredible and our 'storm tomatoes' are not far away.

Perhaps we would be well served to study the world around us and ponder our place in the universe in considering our relationship with each other. We are not as big as we think, neither are we as determinant as we believe. If plants like cabbage, cauliflower, peppers and tomatoes can arise from their grave of hail and produce abundantly, what else might God be capable of despite us?

Just when we think we are at the top of the food chain . . . we find God already is. I love it . . . and pray you do, too.

Moving On

It's time for my annual physical. Actually, it is past time, but why do today what can be put off till tomorrow? (Especially when what has to be done includes the drawing of blood!)

So, there I was at 7:00 this morning in the lab of the hospital with this really nice lady looking down her nose at my blood draw order muttering out loud, "Well, you put this off as long as you could." What did she want me to say? Something like, 'Well, you know, I am a man' or 'I would have put it off longer had I known how put out you would be' or even, 'Had it not been for my doctor requiring it, I would have waited for the mortician to handle it'? But, no, Christian that I am and guilty as charged, I simply relied on the obvious, "Have you been talking with my wife? Because she said the same thing to me just the other day.", which brought a smile to her face and prompted her to say, "When it comes to dealing with men, we women all work from the same handbook . . . . and you will never get a copy of it!" Great retort, ice broken, tension defused, guilt assuaged, and nerves relaxed.

I really do not like having blood drawn and, I think, with good reason: Several years ago, while giving blood at a Red Cross event, the nurse tending to me groused a bit about how slowly I was pumping blood into the bag so, to increase the rate of flow, she adjusted the needle in my arm, not once, not twice, but three times. After the last time, I asked her to take the needle out of my arm, moved to the snack table and promptly passed out. Do you have any idea how much chewing gum is stuck to the bottom side of most serving tables? A lot! And that was the first thing which registered in my mind as I came to.

The nurse was really nice about it at this point. Not wanting to have any culpability in what had just transpired, she suggested that maybe I would be better served at the next blood drive to make sandwiches instead of give blood. Thus, my dilemma with any kind of a blood draw . . . I immediately go to the refrigerator for solace to calm my mounting nerves, wanting to prepare a sandwich rather than contemplate researching the amount of chewing gum on the bottom of tables. Is it any wonder that I wait as long as I can to have a physical?

Ah, but isn't this what we do to God all the time? God offers us peace in relationship, extends healing in our broken living, redeems life from death, and all that we can think about is the hurt we experienced one time or another at the hands of one of God's 'helpers'. We allow a bad experience in one worship setting to become the excuse for not becoming a part of any worship family. In harboring resentment towards another person, our spiritual well-being and our relationship with God falls victim to neglect. And the biggest loser? Ourselves, for we have abdicated responsibility for our life, our health and our love in God to the hands of another, which is way too sad.

Those who really know me and know my story lovingly cajole me about being a woosie when it comes to giving blood. Maybe they are right. All that I know is that, if I stop and think about it, I can still remember the feeling of that needle being moved around in my arm and the subsequent aftermath. I can still remember . . . .

The lady who drew my blood today was a pro. I never felt a thing, not even a sting. Perhaps it's time to start forming new memories and stop allowing the past to hold me and my health hostage. Perhaps it's time to live the present moment with the confidence of one not bound by the behaviors of others. How about you?

Atheists and Gardens

A friend of mine poses the question, "Can you be a gardener and an atheist at the same time?" This question arose out of, both, her obvious enjoyment of gardening and her sense of connectedness to a Creator God.

As I pondered her question, the thought occurred to me that, "Yes, you can be a gardener and an atheist at the same time." Here's why: An atheist believes there is no God. Yet, what atheist's don't understand is that God doesn't deny their existence. That is called, 'free will'. The atheist has free will not to believe in God and God has free will to know and love the atheist anyway . . . which must just burn the atheist's butt on a regular basis!

God didn't send Jesus to save the faithful, the healthy don't need the physician. God sent Jesus (and those who subsequently follow Him and bear His name) to live in faithfulness in the midst of a world that doesn't know or love God. The atheist plants his/her garden, the rains water it, it grows and produces abundantly, and the atheist thinks, "I am god. Look what I've done." God sees the planting, observes the labors of one of God's children, sends the rain in due time, the plants thrive, the garden is harvested, and, even as there is no acknowledgment of God's part in all this, God smiles when God's children are fed, regardless of what the children believe or think. God knows who is God and can only act as God. God is not dependent upon our recognition or approval that God is God, even when we deny God in the garden. Oddly enough, isn't that where Judas betrayed Jesus and Jesus' disciples denied Him as they ran away? In the Garden of Gethsemane?

We are who we are and we believe what we believe, even when in the garden, but, God is always God . . . . and it rains on the just and unjust alike precisely because God is God. Atheist's may garden and atheist's may deny the existence of God . . . but thank God that God never denies either us or our gardens! For if we were cared for by God only on the basis of our faith, how hungry would our world be?

The real shame of the atheist gardener? They will never see or understand true Love that claims them fully, always, even in the garden of their discontent . . . . which doesn't make those who have faith in God 'better', it just makes God's choice to be steadfast in love more dynamic and profound. The atheist's loss, the believer's gain, God's ongoing grace . . . all revealed in a question about a garden.

Have a blessed day in the garden of God's goodness to you!

Life Happens

Life happens.

Let me explain: I firmly believe that each of us is a gift of God, whose final sum journey is inconceivable to consider from its beginning. Yet, it is in the course of those days which we name as 'life', that we encounter the life journey of others and from those encounters, some chance, some intended, we experience that which 'happens'.

Life happens.

Birth happens, growth happens, language happens, family relationships happen, community relationships happen, education happens, world events happen, economic events happen, and intimate relationships happen. On a more focused scale, love happens, anger happens, prejudice happens, hatred happens, division happens, unity happens, connectedness happens, teamwork happens, vision happens, dreams happen, and completeness happens. And, in the midst of all that happens in life are the accidents, the stumbles, the inadvertent words, the pain in the patooties, the recalcitrant children, the unheeding parents, the nosey neighbors, and the effects of all sorts of ongoing wars, both global and local.

Life happens.

Which is exactly where God meets us in Jesus Christ . . . where life happens. There is nothing inside or outside of your life beyond the presence of God. As life happens to you, God is with you in the happenings. God does not inflict you or test you or see how much of life's happenings you can stand . . . that is not the God we come to know in Jesus. God is with you in your leprosy, in your challenge, in your oppression, in your hope to lead, in your fall from grace, in your standing up and in lying down, in your betrayal, in your trial, and in your crucifixion. God is with you as life happens because, from the very beginning of time, God has wanted nothing more than to share the happenings of life with you - and when that happens, Life Really Happens. The tomb is empty. Death is defeated. All that this world can cause in your life to happen gives way to what God Happens.

Life happens. Have faith in the midst of it all, for the fullness of joy this world cannot see or know awaits those who dare to trust that God Happens Always. That is the Kingdom, that is Eternity, that is the truest of Love. God Happens Always. Always has. Always is. Always will be.

Allow your life to happen in God today.

I Haven't Forgotten You

"I haven't forgotten you" are some of the kindest words a person might hear. "I haven't forgotten you" may be the primary reason for the success of Facebook among the many Friends who have re-connected after years of separation . . . and may prove, too, to be the reason for the lack of success of FB on the Stock Market as Friends prove less inclined to shop FB and more inclined to use it as a tool for networking.

"I haven't forgotten you" is the look on anthers face when they see you, more than their ability to recall your name. It is that sense of shared history, shared story, shared understanding, shared journey which connects soul to soul, heart to heart, and life to life. "I haven't forgotten you" is that intimacy which connects lives by the merest of handshakes, in the slightest of nods, in the tenderest of attentions. "I haven't forgotten you" is the language of shared life-womb experience and brings home the security of never, ever being alone wherever one may go.

"I haven't forgotten you" are some of the kindest words a person might hear . . . and as much as you and I like to hear them, when was the last time you spoke those words to God? With the merest of handshakes? In the slights of nods? In the tenderest of attentions? When was the last time you looked God in the eye and, in that moment, you knew as you are known?

Today would be a great day to begin a new for, truly, God hasn't forgotten you.

Have a blessed day, my friends!

Matt's Surprise

"Your oldest son took care of me", is what a friend and colleague told me as we chatted on the phone yesterday. Caught a bit unaware and wondering what Matt might have been up to, I asked, "How?" All the while thinking, 'Changed a flat tire', 'Helped moved a couch', 'Organized a meeting', or 'Spoke to an issue I supported', would be among the responses my friend would cite, instead he said, "I asked him a question about parsonage allowance. Matt researched it and got me the answers I needed."

Imagine that, our son is a professional and people ask him to help them! Never mind that Matt is 33 years old and has had a variety of professional experiences added to his resume already. Never mind that he studies constantly, works continuously, and networks unceasingly. Never mind that Matt has served on the Illinois South Conference of the United Church of Christ Personnel Committee for a number of years, chairing it for the last two years. Never mind that Matt is deeply invested in his faith and endeavors constantly that his daughter's would know the Christ of his faith. Never mind all that he has and is accomplishing . . .

I was still taken somewhat aback when my friend and colleague said to me, "Your oldest son took care of me", for in my eyes Matt is still 'my boy', my son. As my friend affirmed Matt's gifts, I connected with the Baptism of Jesus in a whole new way: "You are my Son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased" (Mark 1.11), became for me, "Yes! Alright! Way to go! You did it! I couldn't have asked for more! I'm so proud of you!" If we could see it, what would be the 'happy dance' God does when we live in the way we are birthed to live, when we follow in faith the hope within us? Scripture records a rather 'dry' affirmation from God of Jesus in Baptism, but I would like to bet that, much as I did in hearing of Matt's assistance of a friend, God did that parental dance in the public setting of the Kingdom which mortifies every child who sees it. Maybe God said those words just as they are recorded, but those words cannot contain the joy of a parent's heart when their child amazes them all over again.

Thank you, Matt, for being the son you are. I am so very pleased with you! And, thank you God for giving me the language and the 'moves' to express such joy! May our children always surprise us so powerfully and may our response to their gifts always cause us to sing and dance, regardless what they may think.

A Stitch in Time

Last evening the St. Paul UCC Women's Fellowship held their Annual Mother's Day Celebration Event. Focused on the theme of 'Quilts', many in attendance had brought special, precious quilts which had been made for them or which they had made. I was in awe. Some well over 100 years old, one still in the quilt rack in which it is being quilted, and the rest everywhere in between, each told a story, each revealed a tenderness, and each touched a heart. From a grandmother's wish for her granddaughter to a whimsical interpretation of raising a grandson, from a quilt made from feed sacks to one made from ribbons, from one which told various Biblical stories to one which told the stories of a daughter's sports accomplishments, all bore the sacred stitches of love and passion which only a quilter can fully fathom and appreciate. For folks like me who are more interested in how a quilt feels on a cold night than the pattern and stitching with which the quilt was made, it was an evening of apocryphal proportions. The nearness of the Kingdom was announced in a language and with a heart that few among us truly know, but all can savor and understand.

One quilt which captured my heart wasn't even there on display, yet was the focus of the program compliments of a wonderful Power Point program: The Patriot's Quilt told the story of an array of women whose contributions to the Revolutionary War helped write the history of an emerging nation. It was a history lesson no class on early American history ever taught - and being a history major in college, I can assure you (at least when I attended college) no such class was even offered. More is the pity, yet incredibly powerful the lesson taught in the blocks of a quilt.

Such are our lives in the hands of God: each of us a stitch in the Master Design; each of us an intentional connection to the other; and, each of us a part of the Story. Though our human minds and wisdom are unable to comprehend the whole of the beauty, I believe, in the moment we enter into the fullness of God which we call the Kingdom, there we will see, there we will know, there we will be known in the completion of the Pattern. Inconceivable as it might seem, such is the power of the Quilter's Hand and we are both, observer and participant in what is, even today, being created. Look and see.

Good Intentions

Good intentions are often divided from action taken by the fine line of taking the time. I cannot tell you how many are the moments I have thought of giving someone a call, stopping by to visit a parishioner, one of my brothers or my Dad, listening with a willing heart to the entire story someone has to share, and, well the list goes on and on . . .

My life is riddled with good intentions whose memory hangs like the albatross upon my heart, for I have looked into the eyes of those whose fortune it has been to be one of good intentions. The haunting, forlorn, hurt that courses those looks will not quickly leave my soul, nor should they, for they stiffen my resolve not to live a life made up exclusively of good intentions. Easy are the excuses, hard is the reality. No-one, including me, ever wants to know they are little more than a good intention on your list of things to do.

Which is why God sent the only Son. God doesn't just intend to bring all of God's children home, God comes to us and shows us the way. Jesus is God's gift of faithfulness that overcomes our every good intention in faith, in life, in living. The stone rolled away from the tomb bears the tears and scars of generations who wanted to live such faithfulness, but never seemed to have time time or resolve. God's Spirit rolls up the grave clothes of our wanton disregard of God and each other, inviting us to a new reality, a new time of being who God has created us to be.I am grateful to those in my life who regard me as something more than a good intention and pray forgiveness for those moments I have not taken time for another. May God be kinder to us all than we are to each other in all of our good intentions.

Peace on the journey, my friends.

Of Ladders and Faith

I had the aluminum extension ladder out at church this morning to put up some Lenten banners in the sanctuary. The extension ladder has two 14' sections, so the safe extension length of the ladder is somewhere around 21'. Looking at the ladder as I carried it from its storage spot to the sanctuary I realized that the extension section was bent . . . clearly a result of having been extended beyond its safe range, then having someone who is a 'tad overweight' climb up to its furthest reaches (Come on! You really didn't expect me to fess us to be a 'lot overweight', did you??). Having such a notion in your mind as you climb back up that same bent ladder makes one just a bit more cautious as each step upward is taken - all the while humming under my breath, "Nearer My God To Thee". "I was glad when they said unto me . . . " the job is done, you can put the ladder away. 'Whew! Thank you, Jesus! You improved my prayer life a hundredfold in just these few brief moments!'

A bent extension ladder is a practical matter really, after all, bent is not broken. The ladder is still usable until proven otherwise, right?

This got me started thinking about faith. Sometimes it is pretty bent up, fairly strained, nearly stressed to the breaking point, yet, still we keep climbing 'Jacob's ladder'. Still we keep moving upward, sometimes in the face of steady opposition, oft-times the weight of our sins straining every step we make. The ladder creaks and groans, the goal appears distant, even beyond reach.

Therein is grace. Where our faith would break, God's faith in us will not even bend. Where the weight of our sins would compromise the steps we take, God's forgiveness shown to us in a cross and an empty tomb lightens our load. When others would tell of the impracticality of our journey, God whispers of love and peace, granting strength and courage for the way. The ladder we are on in faith is God . . . and the steadfast love of God for each of us will not be broken. We are on sacred ground when we dare to ascend to the heavens in faith.

Maybe it is time to replace the aluminum extension ladder at church, before a step gives way or a section bends beyond safety. But I pray the wisdom never to replace, either the faith God has in me or the faith I have in God's steadfast love for all of humankind. For of such the Kingdom of heaven is made known. Thanks be to God!

The Heart of the Matter

Pastor Don's Corner . . .
"As a father has compassion for his children, so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him. For he knows how we were made; he remembers that we are dust." Psalm 103.13-14
Recently, I was told the story of a home fire in which the father got the wife out, then went back into the blaze to save his young son. Both father and son were lost in the collapsing building. The person telling it recalled the event in tears and with startling clarity given the time which had passed since the event, yet there are some things which happen in our lives which seldom ever leave the depth of our heart's capacity to recall.
Case in point, the current heat and humidity which our region is experiencing: It seems a bane to most yet, for many, it inspires the blessing of memory, reliving the days gone by when air conditioners weren't the norm and families still got by on the grace of screened porches and fans. The number of such stories being told expands exponentially as the temperature goes up, as does the vivid recollection of summer evening neighborhood games among kids and visiting among neighbors. (Author, Phillip Gulley, refers to those days as 'Front Porch' memories and attributes much of the decline in the current culture's civility to the fact that few people have 'front porches' and/or don't sit on them, choosing rather to dwell in air conditioned comfort and isolation.) Amazingly to me, what people recall most in such stories is not the heat, but the feelings of the heart which still evoke an emotional response today. Who knew that a fan in a window or a game of Relievo or cicadas in the trees or a parent's voice calling children home late in the evening or the quiet buzz of neighbors visiting along the dusky street, could bring to mind such joy and peace? "I remember the heat and drought of '57 . . . . we didn't have much, but we had enough . . . . and what we had we shared." The heart doesn't forget what shapes the soul, nor does the soul venture far from what inspires the heart to beat.
A man tells me his wife left him for another man whom, she believes, can give her more than he ever could. Hot tears stream down his face as he wrestles with relocating his life, his residence, his way of being, his love, and his care for their children, yet in the midst of it all, the thing most clear to him is how much he still loves her - and how wonderful their years together were. To him, infidelity is not the issue, his continuing love for her is. His heart remembers only the good and those memories serve to insulate him from the pain she is inflicting upon him, as the heat of the day increases and the home of their marriage collapses around him. His soul won't give in to despair, neither will his heart forget its way.
Some may say such is the way of self-destructive living - and they may be right. Yet, is not this the same sort of behavior for which we pray of God? God, rush back into the fires of my own making and save my life before my world collapses around me! God, remind me of the days when I prayed in the cold of a winter's night for the heat of a summer day and the joy associated with such a day! God, love me beyond my infidelity to you and tend to me even when I have offered my life, my time, and my riches to another! Answer me when I call, O God, for You are steadfast in love and, though my living does not reflect it, it is You my heart remembers, it is You for which my soul longs!
The heart doesn't forget what shapes the soul, nor does the soul venture far from what inspires the heart to beat.
To give oneself for the life of another, to remember with joy the blessings of a better time, and to linger in remembrance of love for consideration of one who chooses no longer to love the way you do: Are these not among the gifts of God come to us in Jesus Christ? Thank you, God!
Your servant in Christ,
Pastor Don

Psalm 30 & Auschwitz-Birkenau

"You have turned my mourning into dancing: you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, so that my soul may praise you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever." Psalm 30:11-12 NRSV

Recently, in doing research for worship, I came across a YouTube video that instantly stopped all other work. The video is of modern day snow covered railroad tracks leading into the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp in Oswiecim, Poland, with the voice of Alex Jacobowitz reading Psalm 30 in the original Hebrew. The paradox is stunning and the dichotomy haunting.
Only those who survived such horrors can speak with legitimate and poignant understanding of Hebrew scriptures being recited in places of such deep darkness. Yet, as the words, "O Lord God, forever will I give you thanks" linger on the screen against the background of the train tracks, Auschwitz-Birkenau and Jacobwitz's own footsteps slowly fading away in the snow, even a person such as I am bowed in utter disbelief and disdain, heart scored by the searing hot knife of guilt and horror.
How could such a thing happen? How could our 'civilized' world allow it to happen? And, happen not once, not twice, but millions of times? How is it that brick on brick could be laid knowing that human flesh would fuel the fires of the furnaces being built? How could rail be placed against rail knowing that the trains traveling these same tracks would carry a cargo of sisters and brothers, mothers and fathers, neighbors and friends? How could poisonous gas be offered instead of a drink of water? Or the glut of human greed transform race into a curse, rifling a dead man's pockets to be sure no treasure is lost? How does moldy, worm infested bread and lice ridden rags become the acceptable standard of hospitality? Or the demands of slave labor in abhorrent conditions the acceptable practice?
My mind cannot comprehend it. My heart cannot condone it. My spirit cannot fathom it. Still, someone's mind did comprehend it. Someone's heart did condone it. Someone's spirit did fathom it . . . and the collusion of the three tried to silence the voice of God's people. Like nails through hands and feet, power and arrogant self-righteousness propelled hatred and prejudice through the soft-tissues of God's defenseless children, burning those one who could not be controlled, yoking those would not otherwise submit, and piercing with derision those who would not die.
Still God's Word echoes in Auschwitz-Birkenau. Generation after generation rises up from the ashes of this world's conceit and announces praise of the One true Master. Generation after generation speaks for the silenced, releases the enslaved, and brings hope to the forgotten. Generation after generation tears up the tracks, even as they tear down the ovens and dismantle the camps. Generation after generation announces the praise of God, whose Word is final and whose Life is complete.
"O Lord God, forever will I give you thanks" is both Doxology and Benediction in the liturgy of a people who believe that God, indeed, will turn mourning into dancing and remove from their backs the sackcloth of grieving that they might be clothed with joy. If such a faith can be lived, can be claimed, can be spoken to the powers that be in the name of 'I AM', then who are we in this age to live less prophetically, less faithfully, less fully? "Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning." Ps. 30.5b May the Word of God keep you into every morning.

Pharaoh

“That same day Pharaoh commanded the taskmasters of the people, as well as their supervisors, “You shall no longer give the people straw to make bricks, as before; let them go and gather straw for themselves. But you shall require of them the same quantity of bricks as they have made previously; do not diminish it, for they are lazy; that is why they cry, ‘Let us go and offer sacrifice to our God.’ Let heavier work be laid on them; then they will labor at it and pay no attention to deceptive words.” Exodus 5:6-9 NRSV
Seldom do we hear the name, ‘Pharaoh’, anymore, outside of history classes, museums and Egypt, yet often we see Pharaoh hard at work, giving orders in our current age as he strives to obscure people’s minds with labor so hard they cannot even think. ‘Heaven forbid people have time to worship the Lord our God. Heaven forbid people have time to think. Heaven forbid people have time to spend with each other. Heaven forbid that God should have a voice in how people behave . . .’
What Pharaoh does not understand is that God will not be obscured by the manipulations and treachery of any Pharaoh in any age, nor will Heaven forbid access to any of God’s children as they beseech the One who is Holy above all. Still, Pharaoh persists in Pharaoh’s commanding, exerting insidious influence upon those who are least able to speak for themselves, willing monuments and vast empires to be built upon the backs of ‘those people’ who make many bricks from nothing at all.
You don’t see Pharaoh today, you say?
What portion of your local community’s economy has been adversely affected by the advent of major discount stores like Wal-Mart, Target, and K-Mart?
What portion of your local community’s economy has been eliminated by the exodus of neighborhood grocery stores bowing down to the presence of Schnucks, Dierbergs, and Wal-Mart?
What portion of every dollar you earn goes to pay Federal taxes, State taxes, local taxes (not that support of the government is a bad thing, but do you know?)?
What portion of your tax dollars are used to prop up a ‘free-market system’ riddled with mismanagement but in need of your bail-out ‘assistance’?
What portion of your leadership in local, State, and Federal levels, live with the same level of healthcare and cost as do you?
What are the interest rates you earn for the money you are able to save or invest?
What are the interest rates you are charged if you have to borrow money or use credit cards?
Now that we have been seduced by cheap travel and nearly every person having at least one car, how much of your income is being required pay for cars, gas, service, and roads?
How much of your insurance costs are a direct result of extravagant court settlements?
How much of your income goes to fund a union hierarchy that is meant to ‘protect you’?
How much of your income is handed to those who are able-bodied, but under/unemployed?
How much straw are you collecting and how many bricks are you making today?
The season of Lent is about reminding us that Pharaoh is not God and God is not amused by Pharaoh. Sometimes the cost of deliverance from such systems of oppression is the First-Born.
Sometimes we need to be reminded of Whose we are in the journey towards the Promised Land and at what cost has come our covenantal identity. Do not mistake this, God hears your voice and God comes to save. The question is, “Are you ready to leave Egypt?”
Your servant in Christ,
Pastor Don

Forgiveness

I was recently asked a question regarding forgiveness, which led me to offer the following observations:

Forgiveness is hard stuff, hard stuff. It is easier to ‘love the sinner’ than to forgive the transgression which has impacted our living, all of which makes Jesus upon the cross saying, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do”, all the more poignant.

A couple of things cross my mind in response to your questions:
1. Forgiveness is a process, not an event.
2. Forgiveness gives you permission not to be enslaved by the choices of others.
3. Forgiveness does not mean ‘forgetting’, rather the practice extends peace in the place of anger and/or guilt.
4. Forgiveness is an acknowledgement before God of how much we all struggle with our behaviors.
5. Forgiveness is an extension of God’s grace to others, not a guarantee that they will receive it or be changed by it.
6. Forgiveness is more about the heart of the one offering it, than the transformation of the one receiving it.
7. Forgiveness has to be practiced daily, even moment after moment.
8. The more you practice the forgiveness of others, the greater your capacity to receive it from God.
9. Little that others may say of forgiveness makes it easier for you to embody it.
10. Finally, forgiveness is between you and God. Others may only receive of your relationship with God, not shape it.

Just some things to ponder on your daily journey of faith.

Your servant in Christ,

Pastor Don

In the Days of Life

In the days of life between here and There
God’s love has guided the way,
Held always by Heaven’s Spirit
Every night is lived as day.
We cannot imagine our world
Outside the salvation history of God,
For before we were, God was,
And after we will be, there still is God.
Human life arrives and passes away,
Kingdoms totter and fall,
Armies ride into yet another battle
And come face to face with a wall:
The one enemy they cannot conquer
Is, in fact, the one that limits them,
Death holds it sway in a mortal world
Severing mother from child like a limb.
Yet, all of Pharaoh’s armies
And all of Caesar’s men,
Proved what God knew from the beginning,
The tomb shall be empty in Him. DCW

If The Painter's Pallet

If the painter's pallet

Could contain the hues

Of Fall's transitions

Among the trees,

Would artist's brush

Bespeak the subtleties

Of Divine revelation

Once hidden in

Summer's majesty?

I Walked In the Woods Today

I walked in the woods today

As timber floor takes on Winter coat

From trees, whose shaded visage,

Gives way to glorious sky.

I walked in the woods today

And, there, journeyed

with God.