Bill

February 15, 2016

Forty one years ago I sat in his office. We talked as good friends do, of family, the weather, and in our case, the church. We were both pastors, he seasoned and wise, me green and idealistic. His name was Bill Horn, and he was a bull of a man, standing about six foot four, with formidable bulk hanging on that frame. Bill was from Brooklyn and when he talked, he sounded like he had a mouthful of marbles. But he was one of the greatest friends I ever had. I was about to leave the little church on which I cut my pastoral teeth, move to Chicago and begin seminary, and that particular day we talked about the future; specifically, about my future.

It's not uncommon in the circles I commonly travel to have someone offer to pray for you when you are embarking on a new adventure in life, and Bill was no exception. He prayed for me that day. It's also not uncommon for people to tell you they'll keep praying for you. Bill told me he would pray for me every day. It's also not uncommon for people to forget. I know I've done it - promise to pray and promptly forgot.

It was a full year before I saw Bill again. I was home for our Annual Conference, a yearly gathering of clergy and laity in our denomination. Ours was held on the campus of Houghton College, and as I was strolling down the sidewalk towards the chapel on this particular day, Bill suddenly appeared, looming over me like a genie conjured up from a lamp. His first words to me were, "I've prayed for you every day since you left." He continued to do this until the day he died many years later.

I thought of this tonight at our men's Bible study. Among other concerns, we prayed for pastor Joe. As we did so, I became aware of the absence of stress in my life. I hadn't particularly noticed it while I was pastor, but I notice its absence now, and know that it rests on Joe's shoulders now. I don't know to what extent he feels the weight of it, but I know how much it weighed on me, and am very grateful to have passed that burden along with the baton. When Bill died, I felt like Obi-Wan declaring when Alderaan was destroyed by the Death Star that he felt a disturbance in the Force. My Champion was gone, and I felt the gap that was left.

Some of my Protestant friends might take issue with this, but I am grateful for the doctrine of the Church that speaks of the Church Militant (the saints here on earth) and the Church Triumphant (the saints who have gone to be with the Lord). Years ago, a fellow seminarian who happened to be Roman Catholic (what else would he be with a name like Giovanni Carlini?) explained to me his church's teaching along this line. I had asked him why Catholics pray to the saints instead of directly to God. "We don't," he said. "You Protestants have a truncated doctrine of the Church. We both divide the Church into Militant and Triumphant, but you only see the reality of the Church Militant. We see the Church undivided; we aren't praying to the saints; we're asking them to pray for us, just as I would ask you to pray for me. They haven't disappeared. They are more alive than ever. Why wouldn't I ask prayers of all God's people?"

I have to admit, I can't think of any reason. So perhaps Bill is still praying for me. Maybe the gap I felt was just my own perception. At any rate, I know from personal experience how much my pastor Joe needs my prayers. So I pray for him, grateful for the example left me by one of God's saints who prayed for me every day.

My Valentine

February 14, 2016

February has no favorites. It has not the Christmas anticipation of December, the New Year's fresh start of January, nor the faint spring hope of March. February is cold and snow, with lengthening days, to be sure, but still locked in the icy grip of winter. If that weren't enough, this year February marks the beginning of what will be nine months of presidential campaigning. It's enough to make one weep. But February also has Valentine's Day.

Linda and I are pretty good about verbally expressing our love, and do quite well with acts of kindness, gifts, touch, and spending time together. We're pretty fluent in all five of Chapman's languages of love, but special occasions in which to express our commitment to and appreciation of each other are still both welcome and helpful. We've learned that it is impossible to say it or demonstrate it too much. It's like money in the bank. Occasionally we have to make withdrawals from our love account. We are human like anyone else, and in spite of our best efforts we have times when we unintentionally hurt each other, and still others when in our inherent selfishness we deliberately choose selfishness. We want to be sure we have enough deposits to cover those withdrawals, so we daily choose to be polite. We say, "please" and "thank you;" we don't worry about whose job it is to do the laundry, fold the clothes, do the dishes. Having our home be a place we both want to "come home to" is important to us. We work at making it a place of peace and comfort. We make the bed each morning so it is a place we want to share at night.

And yet with all that, it's good to have those occasional special occasions to remind us that life is short and the opportunities to express love will not always remain. It's best do do it now, so we do. I am thankful tonight for the woman God brought into my life so many years ago. We were young then, dreaming of growing old together. And today, we have done it. God willing, we will be given the privilege of doing it for many years to come. Happy Valentine's Day, Linda. You warm my Februaries with your love.

In laws

February 13, 2016

I never knew that household work was in fact, a social occasion. Linda and our daughter in law Debbra collaborated today on a small project into which I was momentarily drawn. As we worked together, the two of them chatted non-stop while I worked mainly in silence. As the task wound down, I commented that if I were working with another man on a project, we could go all day long without uttering more than a couple words, and those would have to do with the job itself. And we wouldn't even be mad at each other! I fully realize that not all men are silent Sams like me, but even so...

I am grateful tonight for my wife's relationship with our daughters-in-law. I know that in many  households those relationships are strained, and even though we have had our bumps in the road, they have been just that - the normal ups and downs of relationships. We are blessed by the women and the man our children have chosen and are thankful for the love that has bound us together all these years.

Too Much Snow

February 12, 2016

"Why is Linda's car sitting in the driveway with six inches of snow on it?" That's the question I asked myself as I bundled up to go out to the woodshed to top off our indoor supply. For the first time in a couple months we had all nine of them all night long, which meant that I needed to make sure there is enough wood to keep Alex and Abi warm all night long. The back room where they sleep is forty feet from the furnace, and even with an extra large duct, it's hard to keep it warm unless the wood stove is fired up.

Before grabbing armloads of wood, I decided to brush off her car and put it in the garage where it belonged, but I must confess some internal grumbling at the extra work I wouldn't have had to do had she but put the car where it belonged in the first place. That job finished, I reached into the man door of the garage and pushed the door opener. As the light came on, I was astonished to see Linda's car sitting snugly in its place where I had driven it earlier in the day. It wasn't Linda's car in the driveway; it was Alex's I had been cleaning off. Feeling somewhat chagrined,I am grateful tonight that before brushing off Alex's car I didn't make a complete ass of myself by barging into the house and complaining about Linda not putting her car away. James tells us the tongue is full of deadly poison. For once, I kept the poison in the jar. That's progress! Believe me, that's progress!

Finding Life

February 11, 2016

The lectionary readings for today come from Psalm 1, Deuteronomy 30, and Luke 9. I know this because these Scriptures formed the basis for a funeral meditation I gave this morning for a wonderful, well-lived, and well-loved woman. For those unfamiliar with the term, the lectionary is a daily set of four Scripture readings from the Old Testament, the Psalms, the Gospels, and the Epistles. These scriptures are chosen to coincide with the various seasons of the Christian calendar, and designed to take the reader through the bulk of the Bible in a three-year cycle. The readings are chosen thematically, so whenever reading from the lectionary, the challenge is to find the thread that ties the readings together.

In today's readings Psalm 1 declares of the righteous person, "His delight is in the law of the LORD, And in His law he meditates day and night. He shall be like a tree Planted by the rivers of water, That brings forth its fruit in its season, Whose leaf also shall not wither; And whatever he does shall prosper." In reading this last night, I noticed something that I hadn't seen before. It's subtle, but it's there; the one who meditates on the Word of God finds life, fruitful, enduring life.

Moving on to the Deuteronomy passage (30:19), Moses is instructing the children of Israel concerning the law of God, telling them they have a choice as to whether or not they will follow it. But that choice has consequences. They can choose that which leads to death, or that which leads to life. "Therefore," he says, "Choose life." Life is not automatically given. In the Psalm, we are compared to trees, but trees have no choice. We are humans, not trees, and God has given us the freedom to accept or reject his life.

In the text from Luke 9:22-24, Jesus tells his disciples that "the Son of Man must suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised the third day." Then He said to them all, "If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me. "For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will save it."

Those last words are strange, but true. We choose life by letting it go. If I choose life only for me, I may survive, but it will be costly for others. People who choose life for themselves alone soon discover that they have actually chosen death. Those whose only concern is themselves find themselves isolated and rejected by everyone around them except perhaps a few sycophants. The only way to find life - full, abundant, and joyous - is to give life away. Today, meditating as I did on the Word of God, I sent roots down a bit deeper into the life of God, as that first Psalm testifies. But I had to choose life, to deliberately lay down my own self for the sake of others, before I received the fullness of life in ministering to a grieving family.

You might wonder, "So what did he have to lay down or give up?" It's pretty simple. For over forty years when I was preaching, I rarely stepped into the pulpit without feeling nauseous. The knowledge that I was handling the life-giving Word of God would literally make me sick. I've only rarely felt that way since retiring, but this morning it was back, full force. I had a choice: I could give in, choosing life for myself; or I could lay down my life and power through it for the sake of a grieving family whom I love deeply. I chose the latter, and hopefully blessed them as much as ministering to them blessed me. I am a blessed and thankful man tonight because of the life given through hearing and obeying the Word of God.

Lent

February 10, 2016

The church where I began my walk with Christ didn't think much of liturgy. I didn't even know there was such a thing as a Christian calendar until I went to college. Observances such as Advent, Ash Wednesday, and Lent were "too Catholic," something no good Baptist Christian would do. These observances however, are hard to avoid in United Methodism, and over the years, I've come to appreciate the rhythmic cycle of the Christian calendar with the order it brings to my life.

Years ago when our children were small, we began with Advent. The weeks leading up to Christmas we would light a candle and have a time of reading, singing, and prayer after dinner. Even now, some thirty years later, our now grown kids can recite the Advent Alphabet that formed the basis for our devotions. Those times around our dinner table helped us all focus on Christmas as the birth of our Savior instead of Santa Claus. We didn't have to badmouth the old guy; he just faded into the shadows as we dwelt upon the Gift of God.

It took years for us to take the next step of observing Lent. I guess I was too much influenced by those who "gave up something" for Lent in a rather perfunctory and shallow way, and didn't see the value in the disciplines of self-denial and fasting. I can't remember just when I began observing this discipline, but it's been a number of years. Linda has often given up chocolate, but sweets are not a big thing with me. Coffee is another matter altogether. I can and have gone without it; I wouldn't say I'm dependent on it. But I like it. I like tea too, but having a up of tea after dinner just isn't the same. Coffee isn't just a drink; it's a social event. So abstaining is a big thing. But it's what I've chosen to do for the past few years. The times I normally would have a cup of coffee become times of prayer. It's really a pretty good trade-off.

This year, I decided to also abstain from Facebook, other than my nightly posts. Linda tells me I don't realize how much time I spend on it, so I've decided to test it out. It is amazing how many times in just this one day away from it, I found myself ready to punch that button just to see what was going on. I guess it was more of a problem than I thought. So tonight I'm grateful for the yearly cycle of the Christian calendar, for the saints who realized how such a calendar could help us order our lives, and for Linda, who has occasionally prodded me regarding social media. It may be a long forty days, but I'm looking forward to seeing what God wants to do with me in this time away. I think it will be good. In fact, I think it will be better than I can imagine.

Quality Takes Time

February 9, 2016

Bit by bit it's getting done. We bought the house in January, 2013, and moved in on May 11, the day before Mother's Day. In those intervening four months, we gutted the house, insulated, wired, drywalled, and totally remodeled the kitchen, downstairs bath, and upstairs bedroom, adding a second bath. After moving in we added a bay and wired the garage, restored gardens and enlarged the yard by pulling sumac and cutting brush. Between our last home and this, we've been remodeling for sixteen years. Just thinking about it makes me tired!

Right now I'm varnishing the door for the closet we're building under the living room staircase. Being winter, I can't do it outside, so our entry room is my workshop. If you were planning on paying us a visit, you might want to wait until the smell of varnish doesn't hit you in the face when you open the front door. Factoring in drying time, the door should be done in a day or two. Then I can move on to the doorframe and trim. It's going to smell around here for quite awhile!

It all takes time, and there's no rushing it if we want it to turn out right. Kinda like life. Most of us at one time or another try to take a shortcut or two. We may get away with it for awhile, but it never turns out the way it really should. We live in a microwave world. We want instant holiness, instant love, instant maturity, but life takes time. God never seems to be in a hurry, and is not bothered by the smelly, messy business of renovating our lives till they conform to his idea of what our lives should look like. When we were contemplating buying this house, Linda was gung-ho, while I was standing on the brakes. She saw the end product; all I could see was the process - the amount of work it would take for us to get there. In life, God sees the end; and he knows the process. I'm taking my time making our house the home we we want to live in; God is taking his time making me a habitation he wants to live in.Tonight I'm grateful that God believed that the end he has in mind justified the amount of work required to get me through the process.