Family

May 31, 2020

Sometimes you just want to breathe in deeply and savor the moment. Words are unnecessary and inadequate to express the depths we know. For the past year, Linda and I have talked about how we wanted to celebrate our fiftieth anniversary. We went to England for our twenty-fifth, and thought perhaps another major trip would be nice. With all this COVID stuff going on, it’s a good thing we didn’t actually make reservations! 

Our problem is simple: there’s nothing we need, and we aren’t passionate about going anywhere. And yet...fifty is a bit of a milestone. 

We knew something was up when our kids told us not to plan on going anywhere today (like THAT was an option!), but just what it was, we didn’t know until as we were finishing up dinner we watched them streaming in the driveway, unloading tables and coolers and huge tubs of ice cream. They had arranged drive-by greetings, and people came. It was wonderful to see everyone, to have conversations we haven’t been able to have for the past three months. 

After it was all over, they presented us with gifts; beautiful window art crafted by our granddaughter, and a binder of letters and cards from family and friends. Reading what people wrote, two things stand out.

1. When we started ministry fifty years ago, we were told that pastors can’t have close friends in the congregation. We decided right away we weren’t going to operate that way. If we couldn’t do ministry with friends, we couldn’t do ministry at all.

2. At our very first Administrative Board meeting when we first arrived in Sinclairville in 1981, I told this governing board how my priorities worked. “If there is something going on for my kids at the same time there is a church meeting, don’t look for me at the church meeting,” I said. Of course, there were exceptions—emergencies that couldn’t be put off, but for the most part, that’s how we operated. It wasn’t always appreciated. Some years ago when we were going through a difficult time in ministry, our bishop at the time chastised me, saying that we were “too intertwined” with family.

The letters we received today bear testimony to our decisions. Friends are kind. Their words touch our hearts. People talked about ministry; my sermons and Linda’s warm welcome, but what we read over and over was not primarily about formal ministry. It was about family. People saw how we interact, how we treat one another, how we lived as a family. That’s what caught their attention and moved their hearts.

I say this not to brag, but to highlight the importance of little things that aren’t so little after all. Things like integrity, faithfulness, forgiveness, perseverance, laughter, and unconditional love. Linda and I have been on the receiving end all our lives; we’ve experienced grace from each other, from God, and from people. There have been times when it seemed to us that what we were doing didn’t really matter much in the great scheme of things. Perhaps what we were doing didn’t, but who we are does. And if it matters for us, it matters for you. Tonight, we drink deeply from the well we’ve been digging for fifty years. The water is cool, slaking our thirst, satisfying our souls, and we are both very thankful tonight.

Jesus Paid It All

May 30, 2020

I am living proof that one doesn’t have to be a good musician to appreciate good music. It doesn’t much matter what genre it is; if it’s good, I usually like it. Big Bands of the forties, jazz, mood music, old time country, early rock ‘n roll, classical, latin...the list goes on. I can play simple stuff, but haven’t devoted the time and effort into becoming an accomplished musician. 

As a Christian, I was fortunate enough to grow up in the fifties, when hymns and gospel songs were the staple of worship, to witness the birth of Contemporary Christian music in the sixties, and its maturing in the present. I have it all, a smorgasbord of music, but there is a special place in my heart for the old gospel songs. This evening as I was working on yet another chair, I was listening to a some of them. One in particular stood out: “Jesus Paid it All.” 

I hear the Savior say, 

“Thy strength indeed is small. 

Child of weakness, watch and pray, 

Find in Me thine all in all.” 

REFRAIN 

Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe; 

Sin had left a crimson stain, 

He washed it white as snow. 

Lord, now indeed I find 

Thy power, and Thine alone, 

Can change the leper’s spots 

And melt the heart of stone. 

For nothing good have I 

Whereby Thy grace to claim; 

I’ll wash my garments white 

In the blood of Calvary’s Lamb. 

And when, before the throne, 

I stand in Him complete, 

“Jesus died my soul to save,” 

My lips shall still repeat. 

This old song (written in the fly leaf of a hymnal during the pastor’s rather long prayer in 1865), just about says it all for me. I am so grateful that Jesus knows my strength is small, that he instructs me in the remedy by watching and prayer. But best of all, he paid the price of my sin. I have no basis on which to lay claim to his salvation, but he died for me, and that is enough. All to him I owe; I am humbled by his unrelenting goodness. He receives me in spite of my failures, my doubts and fears, my ignorance and foolishness. In this song, the Gospel is proclaimed: All to him I owe! 

Hungry

May 29, 2020

“If I had but one sermon to preach.” My seminary preaching professor began class one day with these words. “I was once asked to deliver a lecture on that topic,” he said. “I gave it my best shot, but gave up. There’s no way to cover it all in one sermon. I changed the lecture to “If I had a thousand sermons to preach.””

He continued, “A sermon is like a meal. You can’t get all you need to live in one meal. We keep coming back to the table. The problem with many sermons is they try to cover too much territory in one setting.” His was the only preaching class I ever had. I’m not the best preacher in the world, but I’m better than I would have been had I not paid attention in his class.

I’m facing his dilemma today. In a little over a week, I’ll be preaching for the first time in months. I have two Sundays lined up, and so much has happened since we were last together that I’m in a quandary over what needs to be said. We have so many different and often conflicting thoughts and feelings about these past three months, and so much uncertainty about the future. The Gospel has so much to say about tragedy, injustice, and uncertainty that I don’t know where to begin. Sometimes Scripture jumps out at me, begging to be preached, but at other times, it feels like my soul is dried up and barren. It’s hard to offer living Water when the well is dry. 

So I pray. And I ask others to pray for me. Jesus Christ’s people are hungry, and I don’t want to give them junk food when their souls are crying out for nourishment. God is faithful, and answers desperate prayers. I’m desperate, hungry myself, and waiting on the Holy Spirit to fill me to overflowing. I may have but five loaves and two small fish, but in Jesus’ hands, it will be enough.

Politics

May 28, 2020

A recent online conversation with a pastor friend has me to thinking. We were discussing the political ramifications of the Gospel. We both are concerned with the injustices and inequalities of our day, but differ in how we address them. Both of us must issue disclaimers, in that neither of us has had much personal experience being on the receiving end of injustice or inequality. We both are middle class, white male clergy, college and seminary educated—all of which places us in a different perspective from which to view such matters. We have the luxury of standing on the outside looking in, which is not an invalid position, but it certainly is a different perspective from that of someone growing up experiencing poverty, discrimination, and such. 

We watch the same news, see the same things happening in our country, but we deal with it differently, and are trying to learn from each other. I see the Gospel as having its primary impact upon the individual human heart; he sees the Gospel as an imperative to transform human systems such as government and education. I cannot claim to be “more right” than he; hopefully, we can both grow as we continue to talk. 

A little background. I was raised as an independent, fundamentalist Baptist. I was given a Biblical and faith foundation that has stood the test of time. Those roots still nourish my spiritual life. By a strange twist of God’s sense of humor, I ended up going to a liberal United Methodist seminary, and as a UM pastor for nearly fifty years. It has been at times an uneasy marriage. I began ministry as an Evangelical United Brethren pastor, and when the EUB and former Methodist denominations merged in 1972, I quickly learned that though we used the same religious language, we often didn’t mean the same things by it.

Nonetheless, I have benefited greatly from this denomination which is on the road to self-destruction over issues of Biblical authority, interpretation, and sexual ethics. This saddens me, because it’s my more liberal pastor friends who have helped me see life through different eyes. I haven’t changed my theology, but I am able to have these kinds of conversations without thinking in the back of my mind that the other side is necessarily apostate. For a fundamentalist, that’s big!

So my friend and I have had this conversation over the nature of the Kingdom of God. To what extent and in what ways does it involve political action? Is the Sermon on the Mount merely a personal ethic, or does it have wider social applications? He challenged me with that question, and I needed time to think about it.

I have to admit that much of what we enjoy in modern society is the result of Christian influence in politics, science, and education. Though our modern secular world has not only drifted from it’s Christian foundations, but rebelled against it, the values we hold dear came from the Judeo-Christian tradition. It was the Christian William Wilberforce whose lifelong efforts resulted in England outlawing slavery. It was Christians who rescued babies abandoned by Roman parents because they weren’t perfect. It was Christians who established the first hospitals and universities, and taught that we are equal in God’s sight. The record isn’t perfect, but it’s there. I applaud those who work to make this world a better place. 

But even with all this good, I wish I were more of an optimist regarding human nature. Martin Luther King’s dream that we be judged by the content of our character rather than the color of our skin has been largely abandoned by both the black and white communities. Hatred, discrimination, and violence are just as virulent as ever, and in spite of laws, protests, and preaching, we seem no closer to a just society than we ever were.

When Jesus told Pilate that his kingdom was not of this world, was he challenging the Roman system under which he would shortly be crucified? In a way, yes. The best governing system yet developed, along with the best religious system, crucified the Son of God. So much for changing this world’s systems! Jesus repeatedly spoke of the Kingdom of God, but never really defined it. It was left to St. Paul to do that. “The Kingdom of God is righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 14:17). There is nothing political about that, other than how we translate it into action in this world. I believe we need to start by confronting the individual human being with the truth of the Gospel, the necessity of repentance and faith in Jesus Christ. Everything flows from that, and apart from it, no political action we take can last. 

I engage in social ministry not because I believe it’s going to change the world, but because Jesus commands me to love my neighbor. That’s close and personal. Let me give one example. Many churches operate food pantries. People are helped, but little changes in their lives. I’ve long believed that instead of food pantries where we become merely another impersonal agency doling out handouts like any other, we should link families in the church with those in need. When someone comes in need of food, we should connect them with a Christian family who will go shopping with the persons in need, pay for the groceries, and build a relationship with them. In so doing, we are no longer another faceless bureaucracy; people are personally ministered to, and those offering the ministry get the privilege of doing more than just donating to a mission fund. Both the giver and receiver have the opportunity of being transformed by the love of Christ. I believe such ministry would be truly transformative, but haven’t been able to convince anyone. It’s a big commitment and a lot of work. But it would be better than the impersonal social service agencies that help some, and perpetuate dependency with others. 

Demolition

May 27, 2020

My wife thinks my preferring to work alone is so I can be a grumpy old man and nobody knows. I pointed out that when I work, I work. I can’t multi-task; as my son once said of someone who claimed that skill, “You can’t even task.” That’s me. It always amazes me when Linda works with others. The chatter is constant; I, on the other hand, am content not trying to make conversation when I’m wielding tools. 

The long and short of it is that yesterday when the kids were visiting Jeanine’s father prior to his surgery, and today while Matt was Zooming with his students, I was able to tear down the wall between the kitchen and living room. Grandson Nathan willingly added his youthful energy to the project. Give a boy a man-sized hammer and a target, and one way or another, the job will get done. The only talking required of me was to give occasional instructions as to the next step in the project. For this dyed in the wool introvert, it was a glorious day! And for the record, we introverts are not anti-social; we just like our people in small doses, one at a time. And spread out over time. 

Of

May 26, 2020

The last book in the Bible begins with these words: “The revelation of Jesus Christ which God gave him to show his servants...” As is often the case, little words mean a lot. Take that word “of.” It can be understood in numerous ways. It can be the revelation ABOUT Jesus Christ, ie. who he is. In a crisis, it would be good to know who Jesus is—what is his character; can he be depended upon, will he be present or absent? The word can also signify coming FROM Jesus Christ, ie. what he is doing in the midst of the crisis. 

We need both. If I am to trust him, I need to know him—who he is, what is his character. But I also need to know what he is doing when the world is falling apart.

This opening phrase is repeated in verse 9, with some additional information. John describes himself as a companion (literally, “one who breaks bread with another,” a term of complete solidarity with those suffering (unlike the flaccid “we are in this together” pronouncements of political elites who neither risk nor lose anything by the devastation they’ve caused)) “in the tribulation and kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ.” 

That little word “of” pops up again. Does it implicate Jesus as the source of tribulation, etc., or that he is partakers of it with us? I think the latter. Jesus so identifies with us that he once said, “If you do it to the least of these, my brethren, you do it to me.” 

When in tribulation, Jesus is present. He suffers with us. But he also rules his kingdom and is present to help us endure as he endured. This statement by John that he is a companion in the tribulation and kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ” tells us a lot about what Paul means when he said we are “in Christ.” We accept tribulation as he did, refusing to submit to lesser authorities as he did, and enduring to the end. The refusal to submit to worldly authority will bring tribulation and necessitate endurance, but all that we do for and in the name of Jesus Christ, all that we endure for him, reflecting his own character, places us with John in the enviable position of being in the Spirit where Jesus Christ stands ready to reveal himself and his plans to us.

Choose Hope

May 25, 2020

Two pictures on my mother’s bookshelf frame the photos of us kids and spouses and of course, the grandkids and great-grandkids. The first is of her and dad a couple weeks after they were married in 1943, the last is her and dad, taken shortly before he died. “It was just the two of us at the start, and again at the end,” she said to me last week. “In between is all the family.” 

I have copies of the first photo, but not the last. Next time I visit, I’ll rectify that, but in the meantime, it’s that first photo I want to talk about tonight. At 21, mom was a real beauty, and dad at 22 was handsome in his uniform. WWII was raging, and he was in the Army Air Force, stationed in San Antonio, waiting to be deployed. On the bookshelf in her bedroom is a photo of the two of them on their actual wedding day, apparently the only picture that was taken. In just a couple weeks they were enroute to San Antonio, and once there, decided to get that second “wedding picture” taken...because they didn’t know if he would be sent overseas with the possibility that they wouldn’t see each other again.

As it turned out, dad’s pre-deployment physical revealed a heart murmur that kept him stateside. To the end of his days, he could rattle off the names of his buddies who embarked and never returned, sent into some of the hardest fighting in the European theater. More than fifty years later, he could tell you their names, but not without tears in his eyes and a lump in his throat.

College and high school seniors this year are bemoaning the cancellation of graduation ceremonies, proms, and all the celebrations they’ll not get to have because of COVID-19. I feel bad for them. Many of them worked hard to get through school, and have looked forward to the recognition of their labors. But the graduation ceremony for many of my father’s friends was their induction into the armed forces, and the same was true for my brother, and many of my friends. 

The smiles in mom and dad’s photos are genuine, but they are not without a certain amount of pathos. As they began life together, there were no guarantees, but faith and love moved them to make promises they kept for seventy years. There are no guarantees today either, although we have grown accustomed to imagining life will always treat us kindly. We are learning otherwise, but just as they faced uncertain times with joy, so can we. It all boils down to the choices we make...to either embrace life with hope, or to shrink from it in fear. I choose hope.

Blue Skies

May 24, 2020

The morning dawned warm, sun peeking above the trees in the cemetery, fluffy clouds racing across an azure sky, not a single contrail in sight. That hasn’t happened in the skies above our house for many years, and it seemed an odd contrast: God’s singular beauty and the effects of human devastation in a single scene. I wasn’t sure whether to take solace in the beauty or to mourn the death throes of an economy on which the entire world depends. 

Linda and I sat before the TV for the morning’s live-streamed worship service, me with bass in hand, bass face plastered on, playing along with the band just because I could. I miss playing with them, and look forward to that day. After lunch, the family came over for some outdoor, social-distanced time together. When conversation lagged, Linda, the ever-vigilant organizer, grabbed the rubber bases and organized a whiffle ball game in the back yard. It was the perfect activity for our circumstances; everyone is automatically socially distanced, and the kids had a great time. Everyone is home now, and Linda is pretending to watch NCIS through closed eyelids. Pitching to both teams is a bit more exhausting than it used to be.

In Sunday School this morning, we were asked where we saw God working this past week. I mentioned how hard this it is for me to keep my focus on what God is doing instead of the mess we’re making of things in this world. I’ve begun reading in Revelation which exalts the victory of Jesus Christ over the powers of this world even as those early Christians were experiencing severe persecution. We have it good compared to them, but our joy depends on where we set our minds. Paul tells us in Ephesians 6 to put on the armor of God so we can fight with courage and strength the spiritual war that rages all around us. I’m finding it necessary when I first wake up in the morning to mentally suit up with that armor so I can fight the good fight. Every so often throughout the day, I need to mentally touch those different pieces God has given. I don’t want to miss the beauty of those clouds and the hawk lazily circling above me.

Revelation

May 23, 2020

The Revelation of Jesus Christ to John the Apostle is my favorite book of the Bible. I know many Christians who are almost afraid to turn in their Bibles to that book; its visions and symbolism seem strange and incomprehensible. Why read something you can’t understand? It might seem odd, since I don’t put much stock in most of the sensational “end time” prophetic literature so prevalent in the Christian book market.

The Revelation wasn’t written to be a map of current events. According to its author, it was written to seven churches that were scattered throughout Asia Minor, They were experiencing some pretty severe persecution and needed encouragement. The good news for those of us who find it somewhat confusing is the word at the very beginning where we are told “Blessed is he who reads and those who hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written in it.” (1:3) The blessing is for those who read, who hear, and who keep the words. I says nothing about understanding it all.

Verses 4-8 are framed by the phrase, “The One who was, who is, and who is to come,” a reminder of the constancy and stability we have in God when living in an unpredictable and dangerous world. Notice that it doesn’t say, “the One who was, who is, and who will be.” That would imply that God changes. Instead, John tells us of the unchanging One who is in control, no matter how crazy life gets. 

After the initial framing of these verses telling us of the constancy of Jesus, comes a declaration of who he is, followed by a statement of what he has done for us. John tells us that Jesus is “the faithful witness; a reminder of his having suffered and died for us (the word for “witness” is “martyrion,” from which we get “martyr.” A witness was one who gave his life for Christ, whereas a “confessor” merely suffered torture.), coupled with the hint that we too, are to be faithful witnesses. Secondly, Jesus is “firstborn from the dead,” with an unspoken promise that we too, will rise again. After all, he is FIRST born, not merely born from the dead. Lastly, in spite all all evidence to the contrary, he is ruler over the kings of the earth. They may spout and dictate, but Jesus Christ rules. This is reminiscent of the first chapter of Daniel where Nebuchadnezzar boasts of his conquests, but Daniel reminds us that it was God who gave the nations into his hand. Jesus here doesn’t rule by mere declaration; he IS ruler!

After telling us who Jesus is, John turns to what he has done: “he loved us, washed us, made us a kingdom of priests to our God.” Textual critics debate as to whether this verse reads “washed” or “loosed,” there being only a single vowel difference between the two words in the Greek. The effect is the same. If I am washed, I am separated form the dirt, which is another way of saying I am loosed from it. Washing perhaps adds the dimension of purity to this statement, but either word will do. Lastly, Jesus made us to be a kingdom of priests to our God. There is absolutely nothing in these verses that point to anything we do. It’s all his work on our behalf, for which I am very grateful. 

So far, the paragraph focuses on all Jesus Christ is in the present, and all he has done for us in the past. Finally in verse seven, John shows us what is to come: Jesus is coming in the clouds in fulfillment of the promise given to the disciples in Acts 1:9-11. The paragraph ends with the same declaration as it began, assuring us that Jesus Christ is fully able to accomplish what he promises.

In a world of constant round the clock news telling us how life has turned upside down, getting our vision focused on the eternal realities we have in Jesus Christ is essential if we are to not be swept along by the pessimism, vitriol, and fear being constantly pushed at us. Our hope cannot be secured by government, and our deliverance will not come through “settled science.” We look, not to the things of this world, but to the One who entered this world, endured the worst it could dish out, and emerged from the tomb victorious over sin and death. THIS is the One revealed in John’s visions, and it is a glorious hope we are offered, if we will but grasp it in faith.

Shut Up

May 22, 2020

“Never miss an opportunity to shut up.” The radio preacher caught my attention with that line, in part because it was the third time in about a week being reminded to be sparing with my words. The other day, it was a story. A can with just a few marbles in it makes more noise than one that is full. The same is true of people. After hearing that radio preacher, I got to thinking about something John Maxwell once said. He was telling about a woman in his church who complained to him about all the people who kept coming to her with their gossip. “I don’t know what to do, pastor,” she lamented. 

“I can tell you what the problem is,” he replied. “Your problem is, you are a garbage collector. People come to you with their gossip because you are all too willing to hear it. You’re just a garbage dump.” I’m guessing that word wasn’t received too well, but it hits home. In this day of social media, it seems everyone thinks they have to say something, which is very different from having something to say. The anonymity of Facebook provides the perfect medium for slander and vitriol to grow, and grow it does! And even if I don’t contribute, I too often am willing to take it all in like a garbage collector. 

It’s all about words. Jesus warned us that what is in the heart comes out of the mouth. Profanity, criticism, barbed sarcasm, reveal a heart needing a deep work of the Holy Spirit. But there’s more: what I put into my mind will sooner or later find a home in my heart, and what takes up residence there will soon leak out the door of my mouth, poisoning all who hear. 

I’m a preacher. Words are my bread and butter, but if words of grace and truth are to come out of my mouth, it is imperative that such words first come into my heart. So before the news, before social media, before all the endless line of hucksters and peddlers, I need to spend time in the Word of God. When I do, there will be plenty enough to say, but also plenty of opportunity to shut up.

Grace Alone

May 21, 2020

It’s all about what God does. In my Psalm reading pattern, Psalm 51 was on deck for today. It is David’s prayer of repentance after being called out by Nathan the prophet for his rape of Bathsheba and the murder of her husband. It was a heinous crime, and he paid a terrible price; the child of that union died. If that weren’t enough, up till this time, David’s star was rising; everything he touched turned to gold. But from this time on, trouble dogged his steps. His son Amnon raped his half-sister Tamar, and was subsequently murdered by her full brother Absalom who later rebelled against his father and tore the kingdom apart in civil war. 

Had David been a leader today, his sins would likely have spelled his political doom; rising stars have flamed out over far lesser sins. But in spite of the seriousness of his sin, David is called “a man after God’s own heart.” He was an ambitious and passionate man—that’s what got him into trouble. He was a terrible father. But David knew how to repent. He didn’t blame, didn’t pass the buck, didn’t prevaricate or try to minimize what he had done. In the third and fourth verses, he puts it plainly: “I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is always before me. Against You, You only, have I sinned, and done this evil in your sight.”

Too often, we (read “I”) start out our repentance with excuses: “I couldn’t help myself,” or “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” My favorite is the one Adam gave the Lord—“The woman YOU gave me, enticed me...” Ie. “It’s your fault, God!” 

After the excuses, we try rationalization: “It was just a little white lie.” “I only cheated a little.” “Nobody else knew, and nobody got hurt.” 

When confronted with the knowledge that his sin was known to God, he didn’t resort to the kinds of tricks we often try to play. His bubble was burst, and he simply acknowledged and confessed his sin, casting himself completely on the mercy of God. The interesting part of all this is that his restoration was due simply and solely to the work of God. Following his admission of his wrongdoing, everything else in this psalm is the work of God. David asks God to purge him, wash him, make him hear joy and gladness, blot out his iniquities, create in him a clean heart, renew a right spirit within him, restore the joy of his salvation, uphold him, and deliver him from guilt. None of this is David’s doing; it is the work of a loving and merciful God. 

This tells me two things: First, there is no sin so great that God will not forgive. There are a lot of bad sins in this world, but murdering a faithful friend has to be near the top of the list. God forgave him. Second, forgiveness, cleansing, and restoration is God’s work, not mine. I cannot work my way into God’s good graces; all I can do is repent. I am so grateful tonight for the Gospel proclaimed in this Psalm. This grace, and this alone, is my hope and salvation.

Abnormal Is Normal

May 20, 2020

Abnormal is the new normal. In my wildest dreams, I never would have seen myself going into the sheriff’s office and county jail while wearing a mask. I never would have imagined I’d hear our governor taking it upon himself to dictate to churches and synagogues the conditions as to when and how religious services could take place. I’m used to the shoe being on the other foot, with a clear wedge being driven between church and state. That people would be forced to die alone without the comfort of a family member by their side would have been unthinkable. And I wouldn’t have thought  people would be so afraid that they were unwilling to meet for dinner with family. But that is the world we’re living in today.

This afternoon, my son Matt and I took a long-awaited motorcycle ride to Pennsylvania. My pistol permit application had been approved for renewal, and I needed to pick it up. At the sheriff’s office. Wearing a mask. Had I tried that a year ago, I probably would have been shown the accommodations. But today, nobody panicked. They didn’t even flinch. 

Later, I read about our governor’s edict giving permission and guidelines for the opening of churches. A statement like this a year ago would have spawned outrage; “The government has no business telling churches what they can and cannot do.” Today, it’s barely a blip on the radar. Because of fear. People are afraid; afraid for themselves, afraid for their loved ones, just plain scared.

I read once that the most common command in the Bible is, “Don’t be afraid,” or “fear not!” I haven’t actually counted, but someone said that command is found 365 times, one for every day of the year. That exact number may not be exact, but it is a frequent command for a very good reason: there is much in this world to be afraid of. Those of us who grew up in the suburbs, went to college, and built a middle-class life for ourselves have been largely insulated from the fear that rages in the breasts of many people around the world. I don’t know what it’s like growing up in the projects, regularly hearing gunfire as rival gangs take pot shots at each other. I haven’t experienced close up and personal the heart-pounding fear of sweeping a village in Afghanistan or Iraq, wondering if an IED lay just under the dust waiting to blow my legs off. I didn’t experience the horrors of Auschwitz or the Soviet gulags. 

There is much in this world to fear, and often it comes in the form of someone with a Pepsodent smile and a three-piece suit telling me how he is going to make my life better and safer. But I wonder at what price?

I grew up in a family where safety was ingrained in us. Taking unnecessary risks was frowned upon. It was a plain white vanilla world. I’m not complaining and I’m not blaming; it’s just the way life was for me. As a teenager, I remember hearing that “the safest place to be is in the center of God’s will.” I wonder who made up that bit of drivel? Being in the center of God’s will is like having a target on your back. In the parable of the Talents, the condemnation was saved for the one man who refused to risk the master’s money. By contrast, the risk-takers were commended. I have no death wish, and no desire to make life more difficult for anyone else, but neither do I have a desire to merely live safely. What kind of life is that? Jesus calls us to a life of risk and danger. If you don’t believe me, read it for yourself in Mark 8:34 and 35. The cross Jesus demands that we carry isn’t a bangle we wear around our necks; it is an instrument of cruel death. No one genuinely follows Jesus who refuses a cross. 

I am concerned about the future I see, but I am not afraid. When things get to their worst, Jesus told us to “look up, for your redemption draws near” (Luke 21:28). Things can get worse—lots worse, but our God is still in control, so I choose to look to him, to keep my heart and mind settled in the Scriptures which assure me that though there is much that is fearful, I do not need to be afraid, for Jesus Christ who was crucified for our sins, was buried and is risen, ascended, and seated at the right hand of the Father, holding all authority in heaven and earth. And we are risen and seated with him, to God be the glory! In a greater way than we could have imagined, God has turned the tables on this tired old world, and in him, the abnormal is normal: in fearful times, we are not afraid.

Almost Fifty

May 19, 2020

In a little over two weeks, Linda and I will have been married for fifty years. On and off over the past year, we’ve talked about what we would like to do to celebrate. For our 25th, our children and the church sent us to England for ten days, and even bought round trip tickets! We had a wonderful time, and promised ourselves we would go back, but never did. We talked about a trip to Europe, or out west to see the Grand Canyon, but couldn’t settle on anything that really grabbed our hearts. Which was probably a good thing, because we don’t have reservations we need to cancel!

We still don’t know what we will do. Fifty years is certainly a milestone, but we are content with where and who we are right here at home. If restrictions lift enough, we may be able to go to dinner somewhere, but even that isn’t really important to us. Being together is. In today’s Facebook feed, we learned of the death of a high school classmate of Linda’s—a beautiful woman who bravely battled pancreatic cancer for the past year. She and her husband didn’t have the privilege of celebrating fifty years. From the looks of it, we will.

The long and short of it is simple: we have experienced grace and goodness from the Lord; speaking for myself—far more than I could ever deserve. We have all we need, can’t think of anything we want, and are blessed in many ways to be on the giving side of things. Even if all the COVID drama playing out all around us should prevent us from a flashy celebration, it cannot take from us what we’ve built over the past fifty years, and cannot destroy the love we share. I’ll probably have more reflections on this as the day approaches, but today it is enough to look back as we look forward to the actual day with gratitude.

Prison

May 18, 2020

Paul was regularly imprisoned for the Gospel. If it wasn’t local authorities, it was Rome itself, yet never once did he refer to himself as a prisoner of Rome or Philippi, or any other place. He repeatedly called himself “a prisoner of the Lord” (eg. Ephesians 3:1, 4:1). He didn’t blame his troubles on any human agency or individual. He didn’t complain about those who beat him or threw him into jail. He saw things from a larger perspective—he was in God’s hands, and any restriction on his bodily freedom was God’s doing, not theirs. 

While in jail, he didn’t mope or bemoan his bad luck. We read in Acts that after being beaten and fastened to stocks in the inner part of the Philippian jail, he and Silas sang (Acts 16). If that weren’t enough, when he was in custody for a longer period of time, he used that time to write, extending to us through his letters what otherwise would have been a much more limited and restricted ministry. The restrictions placed upon him became the means of expanding his reach much farther than he could have imagined, and far more than he would have reached had he remained a free man.

It’s a matter of perspective. Do I with Paul believe God remains in control when circumstances are not in my favor? Or do I rail against the restrictions as if God didn’t exist? Do I allow the agenda and actions of those in office determine the level of my peace, or do I settle my heart and mind on the eternal purposes of God? When I focus on what mere humans do, I imprison myself, trade my peace for petulance, lose sight of the perspective God wants me to have, and miss the greater ministry he has planned. We may have restrictions, but we are not prisoners to our governor, to Dr. Fauci, or WHO. We are prisoners, bound to the Lord Jesus Christ. 

Lord, help me be content as your prisoner!

Preaching to the Powers

May 17, 2020

The Gospel is not given to us to hoard for ourselves so we can bask in its wonder and grace. It was given for the purpose of passing it on to others. In doing so, we often forget its scope. If we only tell other people what God has done for them through the sacrifice and ultimate glorification of Jesus Christ, we fall short—far short of completing the job. Ephesians 3:2, 8-10, Paul expands our understanding of what God is up to. In v. 2, he lays out the part we usually understand: “to me, for you.” Those four words are our marching orders. But in v. 10, he says the ultimate goal is that God’s wisdom and power be proclaimed by the Church “to the principalities and powers;” those spiritual entities lying behind the rulers of this world (6:12), putting them on notice that their authority is broken. 

This is tough and dangerous warfare, requiring that we be well-armed (6: 10-18), and ready to fight the battle on our knees. Prayer is where the fighting is hottest. Preaching to people is powerless unless we have first spoken truth to the (spiritual) power behind the people. A prisoner cannot be set free until the warden is compelled to do so by the pardon of the governor. Any other attempt to free the prisoner will result in the prisoner remaining jailed and the erstwhile liberator being frustrated at best, and imprisoned himself at the least.

So when we preach, we first pray. And when we pray, we not only seek God, but we also proclaim to the spiritual powers of this world their doom. This is why Jesus sweat blood in theGarden of Gethsemane; prayer was not a casual and pleasant stroll in verdant pastures with sweet breezes gently blowing and the fragrance of flowers in the air. No, his prayer was a strenuous, agonizing confrontation with Satan and all his demonic powers, stripping them of their authority, tricking them into nailing him to a cross. When our prayer is less than this, it falls far short of its purpose and potential, and our preaching lacks the power needed to break the spiritual bonds blinding minds and binding souls to their sins. 

By all means, speak to people of their need of a Savior (“to me, for you”), but not before reminding the powers of darkness that their power is broken and their protection is gone. The “strong man” is bound, and his kingdom spoiled by the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and we have the privilege and responsibility of taking this message to all creation!

Progress

May 16, 2020

Time was, when if the motor I was working on went as did today’s project, I would be slinging wrenches across the garage. Thankfully, I’ve developed more patience than mechanical skill since those early years. I had the carburetor apart probably a dozen times, trying to get the float adjusted, all to no avail. The motor ran just fine, but when I shut it down, the float needle apparently refused to seal, allowing gasoline to flood the carb and pour out the overflow. No amount of adjustment made any difference. 

I spent about five hours working on it, and am no further along than when I started except for one thing: I didn’t throw any wrenches, which means that at least I’m further along than I was forty years ago. And as a plus, I didn’t have to go searching for errant wrenches. Which was good, because I was working outside. It would have been a real bugger to look for them in the grass, and even worse if the only way I could find them was with the mower. 

I learned a long time ago not to pray for patience, because it is only learned through trouble (Romans 5:3–“tribulation worketh patience”). I’ve not had the terribly troublesome life that some have had, but I’ve apparently experienced enough to have learned to keep my wrenches firmly in hand. It may have taken a long time, but it’s still spiritual progress, for which I am thankful tonight.

Atheist Hymnal

May 15, 2020

I finally got around to getting tested for COVID-19 antibodies. My wife is convinced that’s what I had back on April 5 when I think I came down with the flu. I guess we’ll know in a week or so. As I was driving home in a downpour, I got to thinking how blessed I am. It’s spring, and the trees are starting to bud, the air was warm and fragrant with the earthy scent that comes with a spring rain, I live where the virus has affected very few people, am surrounded by good friends and family, am feeling well, and have a medical system that allows me to be tested. 

It all made me think again of how very grateful I am for the blessings I have. I pity the unbeliever who is thankful, but doesn’t have anyone to be thankful to. It made me think of a song by Steve Martin, of SNL fame. He is an accomplished banjo player, leading a bluegrass group known as the Steep Canyon Rangers. Awhile back he wrote a song entitled “Atheists Don’t Have No Songs,” a satirical lament over the plight of the unbeliever in not having songs of hope to carry them through tough times. 

Christians have their hymns and pages (hymns and pages)

Hava Nagila's for the Jews. (for the jews)

Baptists have the rock of ages (rock of ages)

Atheists just sing the blues

(Romantics play) Romantics play Claire de Lune.

(Claire de Lune)

Born agains sing He is risen.

But no one ever wrote a tune (Wrote a tune)

For godless existentialism.

For atheists, there's no good news,

They'll never sing,

A song of faith.

In their songs, they have a rule,

The "he" is always lowercase. The "he" is always lowercase.

(Some folks sing) Some folks sing a Bach cantata.

(Bach cantata)

Lutherans get Christmas trees.

Atheist songs add up to nada.(Up to nada)

But they do have Sundays free.

(Have Sundays free)

(Pentecostals sing) Pentecostals sing, sing to heaven,

(Sing to heaven)

Gothics had the books of scrolls,

(Numerologists count) Numerologists count, count to seven,

(Count to seven)

Atheists have rock and roll.

For atheists, there's no good news,

They'll never sing,

A song of faith.

In their songs, they have a rule,

The "he" is always lowercase. The "he" is always lowercase.

Atheists

... Atheists

... Atheists Don't Have No songs!

Christians have their hymns and pages (hymns and pages)

Hava Nagila's for the Jews. (for the jews)

Baptists have the rock of ages (rock of ages)

Atheists just sing the blues

Catholics, dress up for mass,

And listen to Gregorian chants.

Atheists, they take a pass,

Watch football in their underpants.

Atheists

... Atheists

... Atheists Don't Have No songs!

(DON’T HAVE NO SONGS)

Songwriters: Sharp Graham Paul / Martin Stephen Glenn / Platt Alfred Francis

Atheists Don't Have No Songs lyrics © L A Films Music, Enchanted Barn Pub, French Broad Music

I can’t speak to Steve Martin’s faith (or lack thereof), but he has hit upon some truth here. The hymnody of Christianity is without peer. No other religion (and especially secular humanism) comes even close to the breadth and depth of music that has as its wellsprings Christian faith. As I drove home this afternoon, I was grateful to have a wealth of lyric and melody with which to express my gratitude, and am equally thankful to have the same in time of lament. Someone once said that a faith that doesn’t inspire one to sing isn’t much of a faith at all. I have to agree. One doesn’t have to be musical to have a song in the heart. After all, the Scripture tells us to make a “joyful noise” unto the Lord. To him, it always sounds beautiful (Psalm 95:1, 95:2, 98:4 & 6, 100:1).

“According to...”

May 14, 2020

Sometimes a little means a lot. More than fifty years ago, I signed up for a college course on the Life of Christ, by Warren Woolsey. Prof Woolsey taught us to pay attention to the little words in the Bible, words like “but,” “if,” “when,” “therefore.” An entire narrative can turn on little words like this. 

In Ephesians 1 & 2, Paul inserts one of these little words repeatedly. “According to...” is found in verses 5, 7, 9, 11, 19. It also pops up in 2:2, although in a slightly different context. In times of personal or national crisis, we tend to wonder why God isn’t answering our prayers the way we think they should be answered. As he tackles an entirely different topic, Paul gives us a clue into the mind and heart of God. God is able to do whatever he chooses; he isn’t limited by time, circumstance, opposition. In Ephesians 1, we learn that God’s power and love is great, but is exercised only “according to,” i.e. as it fits with his eternal purposes which are quite often different than ours. We pray for healing, for a new job, for a relationship, and are disappointed when God doesn’t dance to our tune...because our plans weren’t “according to” his character and plans.

I remember a pastor friend who told e how he once prayed that God would send a certain someone to his church. They had gifts and resources his church needed, so he thought this individual would be the perfect answer to his needs. “It wasn’t long before I was praying that he would send them somewhere else,” he added. He didn’t know it at the time, but that person wasn’t “according to” the good pleasure of God’s will” (v.5), “the riches of his grace” (v. 7), “God’s purpose” (v. 9), “Gods counsel and will” (v. 11), or “his mighty resurrection power” (v. 19). Those are some pretty daunting hoops for our prayers to pass through, and it’s no wonder more than a few of mine don’t make it to the finish line. 

If my prayers aren’t “according to” all these conditions that line them up with God’s eternal purposes, the only other option is that they are “according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air” (2:2). It is pretty sobering to think that if I am not praying according to God’s plans, I am actually praying in agreement with the prince of darkness. Paul elsewhere tells us that we don’t know how to pray as we should, so we need the Holy Spirit to reveal to us how to pray (Romans 8:26). I suspect that were I to spend the beginnings of my prayers seeking God’s will, I wouldn’t end up wasting time and energy on prayers that serve my own, or even worse, the devil’s purposes. 

So I am thankful tonight for the Scripture which teaches me both how to pray, and what to pray for. Now if I will just take the time to line my prayers up so they are “according to” God’s greater wisdom and will.

Diet

May 13, 2020

“You can’t out-train a bad diet.” So read the tee shirt worn by trainer Funk Roberts. Yeah, the name is a bit different, but I’ve been following his YouTube workout videos for awhile now; they’re free and designed for guys over 40, so I figure I am eminently qualified to do them. He doesn’t do lengthy workouts, but they can be pretty intense, which works for me.

I signed up for a 30 day ab workout, and on the second day, he was wearing this shirt, which states a truth worth pondering. I began working out some twenty years ago when the Lord told me he wasn’t pleased with the shape I’d allowed his temple to get into. I bought a set of workout tapes (VHS should tell you how long I’ve been doing this), and got to work. It was a 90 day program which I did faithfully, losing about ten pounds and adding some muscle in the process. I’ve worked a number of different programs over the years, mixing things up so my body wouldn’t get too used to a particular routine. 

I really worked at it, but didn’t see much change where I wanted to see change. I’ve noticed that most men forty, fifty, or sixty years old tend to have a bit of a gut on them. A lot of the guys who were jocks in high school are jokes in later life. I was never a jock, but that middle-age gut was creeping up on me. 

I was pretty faithful in working out, and have a thrice-weekly abdominal routine that takes me through 250 crunches, leg lifts, and other abdominal workouts, but I wasn’t seeing the results I wanted. My problem was spelled out on that tee shirt. Hard workouts are cancelled out by poor eating habits. I was regularly snacking in the evenings, eating bigger portions than I really needed, and generally negating any progress made in my workouts. What goes in the mouth is just as important as the what is expended in a workout.

If that is true in the physical realm, it stands to reason to be true in the spiritual realm. Yesterday, I spoke of feeling sidelined during the COVID lockdown. I want to be in the game, but the flip side of it is, “What kind of nourishment am I taking in? Am I subsisting on spiritual junk food, or gorging myself on study, growing spiritually fat and lazy? Or am I starving myself of the good spiritual food I need, merely snacking on devotionals, Facebook memes, and snatches of Scripture? If this spiritual temple is to be a place suited for the glory of God to dwell through the Holy Spirit; if I am to be strong in service and ministry, exercising my spiritual gifts; I must make sure I am taking in the solid food of the Holy Spirit, of Jesus, the Bread of Life (Hebrews 5:12-14). It means cutting out the junk food of frivolous reading and viewing so I can grow strong in the Spirit. After all, as Funk says, I can’t out train a bad diet.