Countdown

November 7, 2019

She’ll be singing Christmas carols when she gets home this afternoon. The internet radio will be set to 24-hour Christmas music. How do I know this? 1) We got our first real snowfall of the season; it may melt off by tomorrow, but tonight the ground is white. 2) I’ve been married to her for nearly fifty years. There is no time of year she loves quite as much as Christmas. When I was younger, the season didn’t start till after Thanksgiving; today Christmasy stuff is on the shelves before Halloween, and though the Christian calendar says it’s still Ordinary Time or Kingdomtide, and the four weeks leading up to Christmas is Advent (Liturgical purists blanche at the thought of singing Christmas carols before December 25), in Linda’s mind, early snow spells C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S! 

Linda’s genes apparently have worked their way into our littlest grandchild. Last Sunday night when I brought her home from church, this little voice in the back seat said, “Beepa, do you know it’s only 52 days till Christmas?” I didn’t, but I do now.

Admittedly, I’m somewhat of a curmudgeon. I don’t scream and holler at sports events, and am pretty reserved in worship (I have been known to raise my hands in praise, however), but I take great pleasure in my wife’s delight in this time of year. Her joy overflows, and being her husband, I am most often the recipient of it. Before long, decorations will start to sprout around the house. I’ll know we are seriously in the season when her carolers start to inhabit every flat surface in the place, but until then, it’ll begin quietly, softly sneaking up on me. Even if a bit premature, I’m looking forward to it. Her eyes dance, and her heart is a bit lighter. Mine is, too, because most of her gifts are already bought, awaiting colorful paper and a spot under the tree. No, it’s not quite time, but in the Bailey household, the countdown has begun.

Following at a Distance

November 6, 2019

“Peter followed at a distance” (Matthew 26:58). Earlier in the evening, Jesus had warned Peter and the others about what lay ahead, encouraging them to “watch, and pray that they not enter into temptation.” Of course, they did neither, instead falling asleep while Jesus faced his trial alone.

And now, when Jesus is being led away by the mob of temple guards to be tried before a kangaroo court that had already judged him guilty, scared Peter followed, but at a distance. It did not turn out well for him that night. He thrice denied even knowing Jesus, and at the last denial when Jesus caught his eye, he broke down and “wept bitterly.” He had failed the One he loved the best, the One who had given him a purpose greater than he had known before. Instead of fishing for fish, he would be a “fisher of men” (Matthew 4:19). Except...he wasn’t. Not yet. He was a denier of the Man who was the measure of all men.

There is a danger to following at a distance. Close enough to know the Truth, but not close enough to let it transform us. It might be better to not follow at all than to follow at a distance, and yet this is what I so often do. It is what so many of us do. We get an inoculation of Jesus—just enough to keep us from catching the real thing, and its consequences are as disastrous for us as it was for Peter. At the crucial moment when more than anything else we want to stand strong, there is a failure of nerve; our backbone turns to jelly, and we cave in to our fears. 

There is a reason we follow at a distance: we fall asleep in our prayers. Jesus stood strong, fortified by the angels that ministered to him as he agonized in prayer earlier that night. Peter’s collapse wasn’t when he denied Jesus. It was when he nodded off. Instead of staying close when Jesus was praying, the distance began to grow in the garden. And so it is with me. The real test of faith is not when facing the questions of a hostile crowd; it’s when we choose (or choose not) to come face to face with God in the garden of prayer. 

I don’t particularly like this Scripture. It challenges me, corrects me, convicts me. And though it makes me uncomfortable, I am thankful for it because I want to follow, but not at a distance.

Encountering Holiness

November 5, 2019

“This medicine should not be taken in combination with...” We’ve all read those labels. Some medications can interact with others without serious consequence, but other combinations can prove fatal. Years ago, my father-in-law wasn’t feeling well. When we asked him what was wrong, he couldn’t put his finger on it. He just didn’t feel right. At mealtime, we watched as he downed a handful of pills prescribed by his doctors. Not long after, he was admitted to the hospital where the shift physician looked in amazement at his list of medications. He took him off everything except his heart medication. Almost immediately, my father-in-law started feeling better. The medicines that were supposed to be helping him were making him sick.

Recently, due to his unabashed support of almost unlimited abortion, presidential hopeful Joe Biden was denied the Eucharist by his priest, unleashing a storm of criticism. “Who does this priest think he is, denying communion to anyone?” is among the most moderate of responses to his actions. “Hypocritical, judgmental, unChristlike” are some of the criticisms leveled against this priest. 

Whatever one thinks of his action, at least he is consistent with Catholic doctrine, which is more than can be said of many priests. Catholic doctrine holds that the bread and wine actually become the body and blood of Christ; that in the Eucharist we encounter a holy God who judged human sin in the body and blood of Christ as he hung on a Roman cross. The priest quoted from 1 Corinthians 11 where St. Paul declares that some are sick and others have died because they received communion unworthily. He reminded his people that on more than one occasion in the Biblical record, people who encountered God’s holiness unthinking were struck dead on the spot—thinking that is foreign to us, but very real to the original listeners.

In my Wesleyan tradition, communion is a means of grace, and some pastors believe they don’t have the right to deny that to anyone. But what if receiving the Eucharist works spiritually the way pharmaceutical medications work in this life? Perhaps spiritually, combining the holy with the profane is as deadly to our souls as combining certain prescriptions is to the body. Catholic doctrine emphasizes the necessity of Confession before receiving the Eucharist for this very reason. Receiving communion while in an unrepentant state is as Paul said, “eating and drinking damnation to oneself.” While no one has to agree with his actions or his interpretation of Scripture, this particular priest is taking his theology seriously, something the rest of us who claim the name of Christ would do well to emulate. At least he is more concerned for the state of Mr. Biden’s eternal soul than for the world’s approval. Tonight I am thankful for this priest who takes seriously his call to proclaim Truth as his Church has stated it, and for the call to repentance to which we all would do well to heed.

Green

November 4, 2019

“I saw lots of orange in the green lot, but no green in the orange lot.” I was explaining to the service manager at our local dealership the reason I chose John Deere over Kubota. He waved his hand over their lot of used equipment for sale. Along with a Massey and a Mahindra were two Kubotas. “This tractor was one of the best investments I’ve ever made,” I told him. A few years ago I had seen a Kubota with bucket and backhoe for sale in someone’s front yard. Our vintage 8N was refusing to start in cold weather (when I needed it most), so Linda encouraged me to check it out. I went back, and it was already sold. Thus began the search for a dependable machine that could tackle the lawn in the summer and the driveway in winter. 

With only two and a half acres, I didn’t need a huge machine, so I settled on a 26 horse compact unit with mower and bucket. The 5 foot deck makes quick work of the lawn and the bucket moves snow, brush, and dirt, carried a 500lb soapstone stove, lifts me high enough to trim overhanging or broken branches from our trees, and carries my firewood from the woodshed to the back door. 

This morning I took it for its annual servicing preparatory to winter’s work. Sandwiched between the last mowing and the first plowing, now is the time. I could probably do it myself, but I hate working on machinery; it’s worth it to take it to people who know what they’re doing. So I hitched up the trailer to my little 4 cylinder Toyota, and hauled it down the road, all the while thanking God for this green machine and how much easier it has made my life. 

Giving thanks is not just for the super spiritual or the big issues of life. “In everything give thanks,” St. Paul exhorts us. So that’s what I’m doing tonight. There is much for which to be thankful—good health, a loving wife, the warm fire in our back room, a comfortable bed, a life relatively free of drama, great music to play in our concert Wednesday. I’ll not forget to give thanks also for that tractor, especially when it’s 15 degrees with two feet of snow that needs to be cleared.

Busy

November 3, 2019

“I can’t promise anything around Christmas. Life gets really crazy in December.” I was talking with one of our band members who was recruiting ensembles to play at various gatherings around the holiday season between Thanksgiving and Christmas. She responded, “That’s good; there are a lot of people who have lots of time on their hands at Christmas.” 

I know that’s true, but it’s still hard to wrap my mind around it. As a pastor, things always sped up in the fall. School was back in session with its sports, concerts, and activities; church Christmas planning was underway, year end reports had to be filed, all in addition to the regular weekly work of preparing sermons, visiting the sick, counseling, burying the dead, attending to administrative affairs...the list never seemed to end. Even in retirement, December is packed to the gills. I always hesitate to commit to anything extra, knowing that in addition to what I plan, unexpected matters will always arise.

It’s the beginning of November; Christmas is fifty-two days away, my littlest granddaughter informed me this evening. I’m retired, so the responsibility for all the church activities falls on other, younger shoulders. But even in retirement, I find it hard to slow down. Today—Sunday, the day of rest—was filled with people from 7:30 am till 9:30 pm. It was all good, but it was also all busy, so I can’t help but think of those for whom time weighs heavily upon them. Although there are times I would like to slow down just a bit so I could attend to some of the things on my to-do list, I am thankful to not simply be watching the clock all day, waiting for the night when I can go to bed and not remember my loneliness. The people in my life who make it so busy are a gift from God, and I am thankful for each one.

Sound Theology

November 2, 2019

Lucy and Linus are looking out the window, watching the rain. She comments, “What if it floods the whole world?” To which Linus answers, “It will never do that. In the ninth chapter of Genesis God promised Noah that it would never happen again and the sign of the promise is the rainbow.” Lucy replies, “You’ve taken a great load off my mind.” The strip ends with Linus commenting, “Sound theology has a way of doing that.”

This Peanuts cartoon came to mind today. If we listen to the alarmists in the world, climate change will doom us to extinction in a dozen years or less (of course, they’ve been saying that since at least the 1970s), financial collapse is just around the corner, every kid in the neighborhood is on drugs, and “assault weapons” are behind most of the homicides in our country. 

Jesus said otherwise. “Wars and rumors of wars” will proliferate, family members will turn on each other, persecutors will track down, torture, and kill Christ’s followers before the end comes. In other words, things can and may get worse, but we are not to despair. It’s not as if any of this has taken God by surprise; he knew it was coming and has provided the means for his children to come out victorious in the end. The book of Revelation describes truly perilous times, but instead of being a litany of fear and doom, it is one of the most joyful books in the entire Bible, with songs and shouts of praise and the promise of a day coming when every tear is wiped away. The Apostle John’s vision pulls back the curtain between heaven and earth, revealing The Almighty, the Ancient of Days orchestrating the arc of history through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and the promise of his return to restore all things unto himself.  This is good theology.

Bad theology is rooted in fear instead of faith. The return of Christ is portrayed as a means of escape for God’s people instead of the ultimate victory of our salvation. Of course, for some people, good theology is a frightening thing because it exposes our sin for what it is; we cannot hide behind imagining all is well when in fact we are still wallowing in our sins. Good theology includes judgment, which we tend to want for others but not for ourselves. When however, we realize that God judged our sins on the Cross, forgave them in Christ, when we then confess and forsake them, good theology always points us to the mercy and grace that sets us free to truly live. Tonight, I am thankful for good theology. I need it. It tells me that God’s love is so great that nothing in all heaven or earth can separate me from him. Good News, indeed!

Blessings

November 1, 2019

The first Friday evening of the month usually finds us with three other couples having dinner before retiring to the living room of whichever home we are in...to pray. We go around the circle relating the situations and people needing prayer. Often as one by one we mention names and circumstances, I am struck by how trouble-free my life is. It tempts me to say how blessed I am except for two facts. First, if God’s blessing is measured by an absence of problems and difficulties, does that mean people who are going through tough times are not blessed by God? How does that square with the Biblical perspective that many of God’s most faithful followers experience trouble and even persecution to the point of torture and death? 

Then there’s the Beatitudes. Jesus’ list of blessings is devoid of the material goods and physical health that form the perimeter of what we usually consider blessings. Instead, he speaks of poverty, hunger, weeping, persecution (Matthew 5 & Luke 6), not the usual stuff of blessings. Jesus’ words are so contrary to our thinking; why would he call these blessings? 

Perhaps it’s because it’s these experiences that drive us to our knees and make us realize how much we depend on God for life itself. When life is going well, it’s easy to let slide the things that are most important. I have no desire to relive the hard times in my life, but I have to admit when walking through those dark valleys I clung more tightly and experienced the presence and power of Christ in ways I don’t see when the sun is shining and all is well in my world. 

Tonight, all is well in my world, but I know that could change at any time. I am grateful for the calm, but also for the storms in which, holding onto Jesus’ hand, I walked on water.