Redemption

August 7, 2018

“In him (Christ) we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace.” (Ephesians 1:7)

Anyone who has taken their old cans or bottles back to the store to claim the deposit knows something about redemption. There are even places that deal solely in this exchange, even calling themselves redemption centers. It’s a pretty simple concept with profound implications. When we purchase the original product, we pay a deposit that we later claim when we return the empties. It’s an illustration of what God has done for us in Christ. Before we were even born, he paid the redemption price on the Cross. Paul even goes so far as to say that this deal was set before the foundation of the world. And when we were used up and empty, he took us just as we were and gave us something valuable in return—new life.

This redemption has a singular identifying characteristic—the forgiveness of sins. As I would need to take my empties to the redemption center to receive the deposit, similarly, I need to recognize my own emptiness and need, and go to the Redemption Center of the Cross if I want to realize the benefit of God’s redemption. Recognizing my need is called conviction of sin. Going to the Redemption Center of the Cross is called repentance. Jesus Christ paid the price, everything necessary has been done, but in order to enjoy the blessings of redemption, I have to recognize my need and actually go to the Cross.

I wish I could say this is a once-for-all matter, but I find it necessary to come to the Cross on a regular basis. I receive Holy Communion weekly because I regularly need to access the forgiveness offered in my redemption. Now if that were all it were to it, I’d be delighted, but forgiveness often must also be sought from others. Just today I found it necessary to apologize to three people for an offense I hadn’t intended, but nonetheless made through my own carelessness. My apology was accepted and I’ve learned from the incident. And I am so very thankful that the redemption, the exchange of my emptiness for God’s fullness includes the forgiveness, the putting away of my sins. I will celebrate that redemption and forgiveness once more when Sunday rolls around again.

Rest

August 6, 2018

Pediatric occupational therapist Angela Hanscom has authored a number of articles discussing how academic pressure is driving the decline of physical play and the detrimental consequences for children. Pre-schoolers especially need physical activity for neurological development, but it is being systematically eliminated from public education, resulting in more and more children with ADHD and other disorders that we treat primarily with medication. According to her, many of the behavioral problems we see in children that we treat medicinally, would respond better by simply letting children play freely. 

Unfortunately, in the increasingly structured world we insist on imposing upon children, the kind of play they need is often deemed dangerous or too aggressive, and eliminated from the curriculum. The problem is particularly acute with little boys, who are generally wired for physical activity, and who tend to wilt when we insist they sit quietly in rows. They fidget and squirm not because they’re bad, but because their bodies need to move. 

Hanscom especially advocates outdoor play. Reflecting upon her work, I suspect not a few of us adults could profit from her prescription. My day began with a physical workout, but the entire rest of the day was sedentary, first in the office, then home to read and study before supper and our men’s Bible study this evening. The entire day I felt restless and ill at ease. When I got home tonight, I let our dog out, and decided to walk the perimeter of our yard in the deepening darkness. I needed that time of solitude to allow space for my soul to breathe. 

Years ago, I would take my sons canoeing in Algonquin Provincial Park in Canada. Most of the  lakes and rivers we traversed were off limits to power boats. It was far enough north that the lights of Toronto couldn’t reach us, and the stars seemed to literally pop out of the sky at night. Occasionally, we would be treated to a display of the Northern Lights dancing across the night sky in shimmering curtains while we listened to the lonely call of the loons echoing across the water. To this day, when I am able to get away from civilized life even for a few hours, I call it my Algonquin peace. 

God gave us the Fourth Commandment not to burden us, but to build us. I fear that too often Christians especially, act as if this commandment doesn’t apply to us, and that if we don’t cram one more thing into our schedules we are somehow being unfaithful and poor stewards of our time. “The devil doesn’t take a day off, so why should we?” I once heard this argument as a reason for unceasing work. But since when is the devil our example for how to live? I’ve been pretty busy lately, and have felt the pressure of that busyness. Tonight’s walk around the yard was but a teaser for what I really need. I am thankful that I have the wisdom of Scripture to lean on and push me in the direction I need to go. Without it, I would just keep motoring on. I think instead, I’ll make the time to feed my soul.

Amazon Church

August 5, 2018

Amazon has been in the news lately (no big news there!). Being a big, successful company that has driven many brick and mortar stores out of business means Congress is itching to get its hands on it with new rules and regulations. Of course, the brick and mortar stores from big box to mom and pop are lining up to lobby for increased regulations. Already, the tax exempt status of interstate sales has fallen to this pressure, and we have yet to see how much government is going to get into the game. If I were a betting man, I’d say that we can expect an almost apocalyptic fight, and that government will win. 

A hundred years ago, Sears, Roebuck, and Co. came up with a marketing strategy that pushed them to the front of the retail line. They mailed catalogues to prospective customers whose often rural locations prevented them from shopping in an urban retail setting. This marketing strategy worked, and soon Montgomery Ward, Penny’s, and others followed suit. Who even knows about Woolworths or Western Auto any more? Sears provided a service whose time had come, and a retail giant was born. Alas! They failed to see how completely the internet would transform the shopping experience of a new generation, and now they are on the ropes just like many of the businesses they supplanted years ago. 

Toys ‘R’ Us has already disappeared, and others are sure to follow. People will always need food and clothes, gadgets and gizmos; the only question is how they will get them. As I rode to church this morning (a gorgeous day for a ride on the bike, I might add), I thought about how Amazon is transforming the retail business, and began wondering how we in the Church are responding to the cultural changes occurring all around us. People’s spiritual needs haven’t changed, but I wonder if the way we usually present our “product” has kept pace with the world in which we live. 

I lead worship in a beautiful 100 year old building with 20’ tall stained glass windows portraying Jesus the Good Shepherd, Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, and the Resurrection. Those windows are magnificent! The sanctuary is breathtaking; not quite European cathedral, but still beautiful. But I wonder who feels at home in such a building, and who is moved by our music and my preaching? I don’t know the answer; I am not that much of a visionary, but I do know that the culture is changing and people are “shopping” for spiritual life differently than they used to. The need remains the same, the Gospel hasn’t changed, but how we deliver it may need to. I still like brick and mortar; I like to see, to touch, to gauge perspective in real time and space, but my kind are passing away, and who knows what virtual reality will do to human experience? 

These are good times to be alive. Change is happening faster than I can imagine, but having the Gospel as an anchor for the soul keeps me grounded as I rise and fall with the changing tide. Amazon church? Who knows? One thing I do know: God is still God, people are still people, and connecting the two is the mission we’ve been given. Thanks be to God!

Motorcycle Money Pit

August 4, 2018

2001. That’s the date on the license plate sticker, the last time the bike was registered for the road. I was planning to ride it down to the building site for a promotional video on the new church that was beginning to take shape, but when I jumped on the kick start, something broke. It wasn’t surprising, seeing as it was a sixty-year old motorcycle that had never been rebuilt. I took it to a guy who others said was the best Harley mechanic around, and that’s when the trouble began. Instead of just taking the motor out of the frame, he completely dismantled everything, leaving me with a few boxes of parts and not having disassembled it myself, no clue as to how everything went back together.

Unknown to me, my mechanic was developing some health issues that in a couple years would take his life. I had developed a friendship with my mechanic’s former partner who had opened his own repair shop, and finally persuaded him to collect whatever he could and get the rebuild done. The engine and transmission ended up with a guy outside of Lockport, and I still had a few boxes of parts. Frame, fenders, tanks and assorted paraphernalia I had sandblasted before taking it to get painted. Months and a few hundred dollars later, I picked everything up, still raw metal, and took it to another, more reputable body man. Sometimes, helping someone out doesn’t help the project. And so it’s been sitting in shelves in my garage for the past three months.

Today son Matt and I were both finally able to set aside some time to begin assembly. Even factory manuals and exploded diagrams aren’t enough to be absolutely sure we’re doing everything right, but so far, it’s fitting together. Somewhere out there are people who know exactly what to do, and in what order. We have to find them. And we’ll have to find an assortment of parts to replace items that have disappeared over the last seventeen years. 

Old motorcycles are money pits, but this one is something we can do together. When it’s done, it’ll be Matt’s. I may take it for a spin or two, but it’s already accounted for three broken ribs, so I’m content to pass it along. People often wonder what an antique Harley is worth. Probably not what I’ll end up having put into it, except for the value of the time Matt and I will have as we put it together. For that, I am already thankful.

Late Friends

August 3, 2018

“You ought to join; you’d like it.” My daughter was once more prodding me to come to the Sinclairville library’s writer’s group, and I was resisting. I hadn’t yet retired, and one more thing on my plate was more than I was willing to handle. Besides, Friday afternoons were committed to New Horizons concert and jazz bands; giving up the entire day seemed a little much. But finally in retirement, I relented. 

It’s been four years now. Retirement gave me time, a most precious commodity, as any senior citizen will tell you. In childhood, time moves slowly; we can’t wait to get to the next stage in life. No self-respecting adult will tell you, “I’m seventy-one and a half,” but for a child, those milestones are stepping stones into a future filled with promise. Moving to semi-retirement has at times been a challenge, as like Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters attempting to wedge size 12 feet into a size 4 glass slipper, I try to squeeze more into each week than fits comfortably. 

Group was smaller today, but worth every minute shared amongst friends. For a couple weeks now, I’ve been urged to bring a guitar and sing an original composition. Today I obliged with a couple little ditties set to the same tune. Around the table sat my good friends Rell, George, and Don; Beth and Arlene. Clark, Dennis, and Chuck were missing, as well as my daughter who got me into this to begin with. The guys outnumbered the gals for a change, but every one of us guys is an old codger. Most of the time, we’re able to avoid being curmudgeons, but we’re all on borrowed time. “Therein lies the rub.” Was it Shakespeare who penned that phrase? I don’t know, but it fits. Especially for a writer’s group.

Just before breaking up for the day, Don spoke up. “I’m not an early morning person,” he announced. “It takes me awhile to get going, so usually it’s ten o’clock before I’m really moving much. Except on Fridays. This group means so much to me that I can’t wait to get here.” 

I feel the same way, but alongside each week’s anticipation is the sober reality that these friends I found late in life are just that—late in life. Someday, “late” will become an adjective describing our demise. Sadly, I’ll never be able to say of these men, “We’ve been best of friends for thirty years.” We don’t have that kind of time left. But if we did, these are the men I’d choose, and I am grateful for their wisdom and friendship as we walk these later miles together on Friday mornings.

Expanding and Shrinking

 August 2, 2018

While eating an early lunch with a friend today, he made a comment that arrested me. “When we’re young, our world is small; it expands in our teen and adult years, but finally comes the time when it begins to shrink again.” I’ve seen this happen with people as they age and their world of responsibility contracts to immediate family, and sometimes only themselves. And while some of this is inevitable due to decreasing physical mobility, illness, and often enough, mental impairment, I think it often happens before its time.

The Enemy of our souls is a liar, and one of his most effective lies is that our troubles are terminal, that health issues, relationship problems, or financial troubles spell the end of meaningful life. This is not to minimize our problems, but too often I’ve watched people’s attitude to turn a temporary valley into a permanent hole in the ground, otherwise known as a grave. Lord knows, I’ve done it often enough myself, but over the years I’ve learned how foolish it is to allow my situation or other people shrink my world to it’s immediate circumstances. God always stands outside and above this world; as long as there is a God in heaven, there is no reason for me to allow my world to shrink so small as to not include him and the possibilities he brings to life. 

I am fortunate; Linda and I enjoy good health, God has abundantly fulfilled his promise to provide all we need for life and godliness. We don’t move quite as fluidly as we once did, and have noticed a diminishing of our stamina for strenuous physical labor. We haven’t yet arrived at that place where life begins to shrink. Sometimes it feels like it continues to expand to the point where it is so big we can barely keep up. Dare I say it? There are times I almost wish our world were a bit smaller, more manageable. The reality is, I am grateful for horizons that continue to expand, and for my friend who tickled my imagination this morning, helping me see life with a new perspective.

Tomorrow’s Prayer

August 1, 2018

Tomorrow morning will be the highlight of my week. Last Thursday I was in Lancaster, PA, at the tail end of a short family vacation, and so missed our weekly gathering with my faithful brothers in Christ. We’re a small group, and understandably so, since we meet at 6:00 am for prayer. Simply prayer. The coffee is waiting, courtesy of Harry’s early arrival, the chitchat is minimal, the prayer is powerful. We begin with a Psalm, close with the Lord’s Prayer and a hymn, then fix breakfast for the kids gathering for the Wrap, our church’s summer children’s program.

Most prayer circles I’ve attended spend a lot of time talking about all sorts of innocuous things, followed by energetic prayers that are punctuated by loud “Amens” and “Yes, Lord’s.” Often someone brings “a word from the Lord,” that frequently seems to have less foundation in Scripture than in the presenter’s own dreams and desires. It’s not that they’re bad; but I’ve listened to a lot of “prophecy” to the effect that some sort of spiritual breakthrough was about to occur. That life goes on pretty much as before doesn’t seem to bother anyone. 

I don’t mean to sound cynical; after all, I keep attending these prayer meetings in hopes that I will receive a word from God, and in the conviction that corporate prayer does matter, even if it doesn’t pass my personal litmus test.

But tomorrow, there will be PRAYER! We will listen to the Psalm being read, allow it to shape our prayers and give boundaries to our petitions. The conversation with God will move back and forth across and around the room till with one voice we pray for the Father’s will to be done, for our needs to be met before we ask and extend forgiveness, and bow before him in worship and song. Any clouds that have gathered in my skies will dissolve before the breath of the Holy Spirit, and the rest of the week I will bask in the sunshine of grace.