Gun Day Sunday Hits the Target

September 7, 2014

"Gun Day Sunday." That's how pastor Joe billed it. An afternoon of shooting followed by dogs and drinks, guys only. More than one woman in the church protested that last part, but it was a "guys only" event, and was a huge success. Everyone brought what they had, and we all had a good time. It's not the sort of recreation that would go over in every church, but here at Park, I can specifically remember 26 men being there, making lots of noise and cementing friendships. Now, I am sitting with my wife, watching Forrest Gump on TV. It's one of the few movies I can watch more than once and enjoy it every time, especially with Linda by my side.

All this was on the heels of the morning's worship, which again brought me into the presence of the Lord with the soaring music of "Forever," led by our Bri Katilus. The melody is beautiful, but it's the lyrics describing the work of Christ in his death and resurrection that paint a picture of the power and victory bought at such cost for us:

The moon and stars they wept
The morning sun was dead
The Saviour of the world was fallen
His body on the cross
His blood poured out for us
The weight of every curse upon him

One final breath he gave
As heaven looked away
The son of God was laid in darkness
A battle in the grave
The war on death was waged
The power of hell forever broken

The ground began to shake
The stone was rolled away
his perfect love could not be overcome
Now death where is your sting?
Our resurrected King
Has rendered you defeated

Forever he is glorified
Forever he is lifted high
Forever he is risen
He is alive, He is alive!

Pastor Joe preached on forgiveness, and once again hit the mark. God convicted me of my need to seek forgiveness from at least two of the people who left Park church in anger ten years ago. I haven't thought much about it, but when Joe spoke of how we tend to avoid certain people because of our unforgiveness, God caught me and brought two men to mind. The circumstances under which they left has ceased to be the point; I have to deal with my own attitude, my own heart. Whether or not they were aware of it, God revealed to me today that my heart towards them hasn't been right, which means I must go to them and seek forgiveness.

It was a fun afternoon and a pleasant evening, but it's the worship for which I am most thankful. I was moved to worship from the heart by the music, and moved to repentance by the preaching. I am grateful for both; the former for the humbling privilege of being in God's presence, and the latter because it means I am not so hardened or obtuse that God's grace cannot break through. He isn't done with me yet! But now I have work to do. I can't say I'm looking forward to it, but I am looking forward to the freedom and blessing I know will follow.

Getting Out of Hot Water

September 6, 2014

Three months ago I would have been frantic, but tonight I am cool, calm, and collected. I didn't even get to start what I thought would be my day's work; tiling the tub surround in our in-progress downstairs bathroom remodeling. Park church hosted the funeral service for Carol Millward, next-door neighbor and as saintly a woman as can be found. Carol had suffered for nearly 50 years with a medical condition that progressed from walking with a cane to crutches to wheelchair. Her life had been hard, but her faith was strong, her spirit joyful. She was respected and loved, and the church was full. We served the luncheon, and as we were cleaning up, Jeanine found me in the kitchen and asked if I would come to her house. The hot water tank was spraying water all over the basement and Matt needed some help.

I drove home to change, and when I arrived at their house, Matt's best friend Bob was already on the scene. We got the water shut off and proceeded to unhook all the connections, which turned out to be a bit more challenging than ordinary. Matt and Jeanine had bought the house from the estate of the gentleman who used to be the mechanic at the school bus garage. Ken was an excellent mechanic; one of those few who had a knack for figuring things out and making them work, back in the days when there wasn't always enough money to do things quite to code. The pipes to and from the hot water tank weren't pipes at all; 1/2" copper tubing is strung all over the basement, with cobbled up reducers, valves in the strangest of places, and missing couplings, all of which meant that instead of simply shutting off the supply, unhooking the couplings and removing the tank, everything had to be dismantled. Matt and Bob proceeded to do this while I headed to Home Depot to buy a new hot water tank. I talked briefly with Clint, the plumbing expert on duty, and told him I'd probably be seeing him again before the day was out. Me, the prophet!

Back at Matt's, we emptied the old tank, Bob and Matt muscled it up the stairs and outside(there are benefits to being the senior partner in these endeavors), gathered up all the pieces, valves, and assorted reducers, and headed to Home Depot. Fortunately, Clint was still on duty. Clint is an interesting guy. Probably about my age, with a thin, rugged face that hints at stories waiting to be told. It doesn't matter if you know squat about plumbing if you know Clint. One time when I was in the Depot, he was talking with another customer and let slip that some college kids had come in with a list of stuff they needed to make a still. Clint not only helped them find everything they needed; he even gave them some helpful hints as to how to put it all together. They rewarded him some time later with a sample of their product, which he declared to be pretty good.

Matt and I showed Clint what we had, told him what we needed to do, and he proceeded to locate the pieces we needed and lay out the connections till we had it all sorted out. Back home, we proceeded to assemble the cobbled up mess. Had everything been plumbed properly, we would have had a couple fittings to attach. As it was, each supply had at least a half dozen connections, each one a potential leak. You can see where this is going, can't you?

We had to cut some of the copper tubing to make things fit with the additional couplings we installed, so we flared the tubing, put it all together, turned on the main and waited while the tank filled. So far, so good...until the tank was full and the water started spraying from every connection on the outlet side of the tank, a regular Niagara Falls. We shut off the valves and in the process of trying to tighten the fittings, torqued the tubing. This was not going well! Poor Matt! He had a sheath to make for one of his knives, a Sunday School lesson to finish preparing, and no way to take a shower before bed. Turns out, a flared fitting wasn't the best option for the connection, so back down the road I went, this time to the Cassadaga Sure-Fine for a new fitting. Unfortunately, I got the wrong one, and by the time I got back to Sinclairville and realized my mistake, it was too late to even go to Home Depot again. Matt took a cold shower, and we finished the day having lost the battle, but determined to win the war!

So what is there in all this for which to be thankful? Simply this: three months ago, I would have been frantic because my bathroom project would have been postponed for who knows how long, waiting for another block of time to get at it. And, I would have been nervous about my readiness for a sermon the next day. For over forty years, I did my best to keep Saturday nights free so I could get myself in the right frame of mind for preaching the next day. Tonight I walked away from an unfinished plumbing job after struggling all day on it, and I don't have to worry about whether my sermon is ready. All I have to do is pray for pastor Joe. And I will have a warm shower in the morning!

Greater Grace

September 5, 2014

In 1911, a Sunday School teacher by the name of Julia Harriet Johnston wrote the words to what was to become a well-known Gospel song, "Grace Greater Than Our Sin," one of more than 500 songs she authored. As I was preparing to lead worship at the retirement retreat this past week, my chosen theme of "Grace and Gratitude" brought this song to mind. In particular, the third stanza reads,

"Marvelous, infinite, matchless grace
Freely bestowed on all who believe
All who are longing to see his face
Will you this moment his grace receive?"

These words got me to thinking about how often I've prayed this very prayer; "Lord, I just want to see your face; to really know you," only to come away feeling as empty and distant from Christ as I felt at the beginning of my prayers. Reading these words again made me wonder how often in my longing, I failed to believe in God's free grace bestowed. Jesus taught us that if we ask anything in his Name, believing, we would receive it. But it is certainly possible for us to ask without having any confidence that what we seek will actually be given. Longing to see Christ's face is not enough; I must choose to believe that God will actually bestow this grace upon me. It is a matter of believing my beliefs instead of my feelings.

Today I have had to acknowledge this failure as the sin it is, and confess it before the throne of grace. I am seeking Christ's face once more, but tonight, I am doing so confident that in God's mercy and goodness, he will actually reveal himself to me. Jesus said that when we pray, we are to believe that we have already received, because God is more ready to give than we are ready to ask and receive. So tonight I am praying, knowing that the answer is already on the way, and that my longing to see Christ; to really know him, will be fulfilled. As sign of this faith, I am already thanking him for revealing himself to me.

April and December

September 4, 2014

Life...What a wonderful, intriguing, mysterious, exuberant, terrifying, dangerous, fragile gift! I made it home from the retirees' retreat just in time to grab a bite to eat and head out to our granddaughters' swim meet, where Alex took first place in diving (Woo Hoo!). It was an interesting contrast. To be honest, I was a bit shocked when I first arrived at the retreat. Some of the folks there I hadn't seen in years, and the years have taken their toll. I saw nearly as many walkers as in a nursing home, but I also saw kindness, faithfulness, grace, and love, in action. Some of these retired pastors had been in ministry for fifty or sixty (!) years. It was hard for some of them to get around, but the bond that had formed over the years was important enough to them that some made special trips from retirement homes in Florida and elsewhere just to see old colleagues once more. The ones who moved with difficulty were graciously and patiently assisted by those a bit younger and more agile. There was laughter, worship, and conversation around tables, all of it permeated by bonds formed through decades of common ministry.

I remember most of these same folks in their prime, when they debated on the Conference floor and when they renewed their covenant with each other in the worship that initiated each Annual Conference, and in the annual ordination services. They were my heroes, the ones to whom I looked as examples of what it meant to be a pastor. My ministry life took a bit different turn than most of theirs, in that I have had the privilege of remaining in one community for over 30 years, where most of them received anywhere from half dozen to a dozen appointments over the course of their ministry careers. For them, the only real stable and continuous friendships they had were with each other. As a result, the bonds grew tight; the love deep. That love remains strong and vibrant even to this day, evidenced by their determination to attend the retreat in spite of the challenges of their years and infirmities. Their faithfulness and steadfastness over a lifetime of ministry is powerful testimony to the work of Christ in them. I was humbled to be in their presence, even more so to lead worship with them this morning.

Most of the activities were pretty sedate by comparison to what I'm used to, and it gave me pause to consider that in looking at the frailty I saw in some, I could be looking at my future. I hope that if this is so, that future will also include the faith and faithfulness I saw these last two days.

Contrast that with the youthful energy of the girls' swim meet. Lithe young bodies responding to willpower and training, moving through the water with grace, power, and speed. Life is truly a wonderful gift; I observed it today from three perspectives; the older retirees with whom I shared the past two days, my granddaughters' joyful exuberance of youth, and my own existence somewhere in between. I am awed by it all, and grateful for this amazing gift of life.

Qualified, Rescued, Translated, Redeemed

September 3, 2014

Having a bit of spare time this afternoon, I decided to skim through St. Paul's letter to the Colossians. Trying to improve my skills for our Cuba mission trips, I read for awhile in Spanish; it's slow going, but I'm doing better every day. I imagine my experience is akin to a child learning to read for the first time, struggling to decipher individual words and losing the overall meaning in the process. But that's not the point of this evening's writing, which is in danger of getting lost in the detour.

I preached on this text (Colossians 1:12-14) some years ago, but the outline comes back to me as clearly as it did on the day I gave the sermon. It's one of those texts that simply jumped out at me with ready made illustrations that brought it to life. It initially caught my attention because in it, Paul tells us in a single sentence (in the Greek, which was known for run-on sentences) four important things God has done for us in Christ.

First, he "qualified us to share in the inheritance of the saints in the kingdom of light." My late father in law was one of the pioneers of NASCAR, racing against the likes of Tim and Fonty Flock, Curtis Turner, Lee Petty, and other early greats. In racing, drivers have to qualify for position on the track in the big race. If your time isn't good enough, you don't qualify, and you don't race. In our text, it says that in Christ, God ran the qualifying run so we could get in the race. It's up to us to finish our course, but without God's doing we wouldn't even be on the track.

Second, he "rescued us from the dominion of darkness." The lifeguard continually scans the water for unusual patterns, indications that someone is in trouble. If trouble is spotted, he or she sounds the alarm and runs to the rescue of the drowning swimmer. It is axiomatic that someone drowning cannot save himself. He wouldn't be drowning if he could save himself. In Christ, God rescued us. We were going down for the count, and he saved us from the darkness of sin that threatens to engulf us all.

Thirdly, he "translated us into the kingdom of his beloved Son." That's how the old translations have it. The NIV merely says, "he brought us into the kingdom." I prefer the old version. I've preached to congregations in Mongolia, Nepal, and Cuba, all places where I needed a translator to communicate, to connect with the people I was with. To translate is to transfer understanding from one culture to another. That's what God did for us in Christ. He made it possible for us to actually connect with an entirely new culture; the Kingdom of God.

Lastly, he "redeemed us." When I was a kid, my mother saved S&H Green Stamps, which were given out in grocery stores and redeemed, or traded for useful stuff at the S&H store. In Biblical times, slaves could  be redeemed, ie. bought back and set free. God in Christ traded our sins for something worthwhile; his salvation and glory. He forgave our sins.

I am grateful tonight for these four gifts of grace, given purely from the love of God to someone like me who didn't deserve them, had no reason to expect them, but has been so blessed by them.

Back at it Again

September 2, 2014

Last June, right around the time I was set to retire, I received a phone call from a fellow pastor inviting me to retiree's fall Faith Fellowship Retreat. It was a nice gesture, but as it turned out, one harboring ulterior motives. They wanted me to bring the devotional on the Thursday of the week. Not being particularly versed in the fine art of retirement (i.e. "Just Say No!"), I agreed, and tomorrow I head out for a leisurely bike ride (thank God for a good weather forecast) to Silver Lake, NY, and what I anticipate will be a relaxing and pleasant time with veteran retirees from whom as price of my services, I will extract whatever retirement wisdom I can weasel out of them. Quid pro quo works for me!

One of my retirement fears was that without the discipline of weekly sermon preparation, my mind would get lazy, but even worse, my spirit would suffer. I've written before of how intimately linked my sermon preparation and my devotional life have been. I've been working on it, but I tell you, it's been harder than I thought it would be, giving me a much greater appreciation for all the laypeople who sit and listen to preachers, and then all on their own do the work necessary to working out their salvation.

That's why I am grateful beyond what I anticipated for the opportunity to share with my brothers and sisters. It's hard to explain the difference between reading the Bible for me and studying it for others. It is the latter that makes the text come alive for me, and getting back into the swing of preparation has been like water on parched land (although with all the rain we've had this summer, that analogy may be a bit off). I am grateful for this opportunity I've been given, and although I have no present desire to re-enter the pastoral workforce, I am looking forward to Thursday's time together. I'll have to wait until then to see how much a toll two month's hiatus has taken. Then I'll get to see if I can make anyone else thankful.

End of Summer Reflections

September 1, 2014

When putting things away after the Bailey Labor Day Picnic at Matt and Jeanine's, I tossed the lawn chairs into the trunk of Linda's car and thought, "That's the last day we'll use those." It may not be true, but Labor Day traditionally marks the end of the American summer. Wednesday, the kids head back to school and the cycle starts all over again. Although the calendar says the year begins in January, for all intents and practical purposes, it starts when school begins in September.

It's hard to believe the summer went by so quickly (My first inclination was to use the word "fast," but I know my grammarly daughter would see that and be so traumatized that she would be incapable of reading any further). I remember the countdown to July 1 and my retirement; it seemed like everything picked up speed, and it hasn't stopped. Other than our annual Canada trip, we didn't have any big plans that took weeks on end, but here we are in September, looking back and wondering what happened.

Fall doesn't look like it will slow down much, either. I have a speaking engagement this week, a wedding to officiate in two weeks, another to attend (long distance), a couple weekend ministry opportunities, two preaching engagements, a mother to move into a new apartment, New Horizons Band rehearsals, alongside all the school activities of the grandkids. One of the things I like about retirement is that I can calmly do all these things that normally would have me in a mild panic; they are no longer add-ons to an already busy work week, and although I am busy throughout the week, it is at my pace.

It's been a good summer, throughout which I have repeatedly counted my blessings with amazement. When I read or watch the news, I become acutely aware of how unusual my life is. The Middle East is aflame, our southern borders are almost nonexistent, Russia continues to rattle sabers in the Ukraine, our national debt continues to escalate, and no one seems to have the backbone or knows what to do about any of it. I often feel like the Hobbits in J.R.R. Tolkien's trilogy, who loved nothing more than to sing, dance, drink their beer, and smoke their pipes, totally unaware of the cloud of doom in Mordor that threatened to overwhelm them all. It took a few unlikely but brave souls to answer the call to confront the evil and endure the trials to win the victory. I pray for eyes to see beyond my peaceful existence, that I may be equal to whatever challenges may come my way. I am grateful for the Gospel that makes me aware of both the blessings and the dangers, so I can receive the former and face the latter when they come.