Grace

January 7, 2020

THREE GRACES FROM PEOPLE I LOVE

Mercy is not receiving the bad you deserve. Grace is receiving the good you didn’t deserve. 

1.  Whenever I am preparing sermons or planning my outlines for mission work, I get nervous. Actually, I get more than nervous. I tend to withdraw as I focus on the work before me, always wondering if what I am preparing is the right stuff, if it is what the people need, if it is indeed an apt word from the Lord. When I was preaching weekly, Sunday mornings were the worst. I couldn’t eat breakfast; my stomach would be in knots until the first service was over. Once I had preached it, I was able to settle down for round two. 

All this to say, when I’m in the preparation mode, I’m not very pleasant to be around. This morning was one of those times. Linda noticed (she would have had to be comatose not to), and called me on it. Fortunately for me, she recovers quickly, and what could have been a bad day wasn’t. From her I received grace today.

2.  Last night at our men’s Bible study, one of the members had a lot of questions. To be sure, it was a knotty text, and some wanted to rush through it. He asked me as pastor what I thought of it, and I did my best to answer. As we were wrapping up, he stopped by my place at the table, put his hand on my shoulder, thanked me for taking the time to answer his question, and said how much my ministry over the years has meant to him. It was an unexpected word of grace that was an encouragement to me as I am preparing to minister in Cuba.

3.  She can’t do much anymore. It takes all her energy to get from her recliner to the bathroom, and when we visit, she just sits. Last year, she would get up, fix lunch, set the table. Not now. This morning as we sat and talked, I could see her beginning to wear out. After about an hour of conversation, mom closed her eyes and was almost immediately asleep. She woke up, we talked some more, and once more, she dozed off. She did manage however, to make sure she gave Linda some money as a donation to the pregnancy care center our daughter runs. 

It is largely due to her influence that I am who I am today. As a child, we didn’t go to church, but about the time I turned twelve, she decided we needed to do so. So we did, and it was in that church that I first heard the Gospel. I came to Christ, and the trajectory of my life changed. In a mission conference when I was fourteen, I responded to an invitation to dedicate myself to full time Christian work. My parents were asked to stand in affirmation of my decision. Trembling, mom stood with dad, knowing as I did not, that it might mean my living halfway around the world. It meant letting go more than she was prepared to do, but she did it anyway. Grace has been her gift to me throughout my life, and though she is unable to do much these days, her gift to our daughter is merely one more demonstration of the grace I’ve known for seventy years.

Pocket, Fridge, Heart

January 6, 2020

YOUR POCKET, YOUR FRIDGE, YOUR HEART

1. “What’s in your wallet?” How many times have we gritted our teeth through that commercial? I remember the line, but couldn’t tell you today which credit card company it represents. What I can say is how thankful I am for what is in my wallet; cash that years ago wasn’t there, credit cards that make it easy to pay for almost anything without having to carry around obscene amounts of cash, and insurance and Medicare cards, plus driver’s license and other cards that convey specific privileges in my home state. 

I know people whose only insurance is Medicaid, who instead of a credit card, have a government public assistance card; others who have no driver’s license, still others who carry medical emergency information. My wallet reveals a lot about where I happen to fall in today’s social system. If I fall, my wallet tells me the landing won’t be so hard.

2. Our refrigerator is always full. What more need I say? We are blessed with both variety and abundance to the point where occasionally we dig to the back and find things that have sat so long they need to be thrown away. Considering that people around the world go to bed hungry, if we had no more than a full refrigerator, we would have more than most. 

3. If my heart were as filled with as much good as my refrigerator, I would be a wise and holy man. That being said, because my heart is the home of the Holy Spirit, I possess a wisdom and holiness that is not my own, but which is the foundation of my life. 

Today’s Scripture reading came from Matthew 6, where Jesus comments on our life’s focus. “The light of the body is the eye. If therefore your eye be single (focused, good), your whole body will be full of light.” When I am driving, if I look for more than a passing glance at something at the side of the road, I’ll inevitably drift towards whatever I’m looking at. I need to keep my focus straight ahead if I want to stay on the road. My life too, will drift towards whatever becomes my focus, which is why I deliberately focus on gratitude, grace, and God. If I look too long at the politics and power of this world, I’ll drift towards it like a moth to the flame. Wherever the eyes of my heart turn is where I will end up. Staying on the road takes continual vigilance; staying on life’s road requires it, too. It is no better to end up in a ditch at 70 than it would have been at 20. My eyes reveal what’s in my heart.

Reading, Making, Seeing

January 5, 2020

SOMETHING I’M READING, MAKING, SEEING

1.  Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5-7 challenges me every time I read it. Last week, a man was shot and killed by security in a church in Texas after pulling out a shotgun and fatally shooting two church members. Subsequently, the media has exploded with commentary, either extolling the virtues of stricter gun control laws, or of broader concealed carry so would-be murderers might have second thoughts, not knowing who might be shooting back. My personal inclination is with the gun rights people. Gun free zones have proven to be death traps. Most mass shootings occur in them, and contrary to media predictions, the proliferation of concealed carry permits hasn’t resulted in a bloodbath.

That being said, when I run up against the teachings of Jesus in this sermon, I see words that challenge my natural inclination for self-protection and protecting my family and loved ones. Jesus starts out with “blessed are the meek,” moves on to warning against anger (v.22), agreeing with our adversary lest we be accused, judged, and sentenced (v.25), to turning the other cheek (v.39), to loving our enemies and praying for those who misuse us (v44). It could be argued that such advice is what one would be wise to do when operating from a position of subjugation and weakness. Responding with violence rarely turns out well when one is only able to bring a knife to a gun fight. Nevertheless, even though I do not live in a condition of subjugation, or perhaps because of it, refraining from retaliation, or non-violence (as MLK taught) can be an effective method of responding to violence. Jesus’ words grate against my soul, which is probably a good thing. At the very least, it means I’m still listening, still struggling with the demands of the Gospel, and for that I give thanks. It means the Holy Spirit hasn’t given up on me.

2. I’m cheating a bit on this one. Technically, I haven’t started making it, but I did buy the supplies as a Christmas gift for Linda. Her desk chair is an antique with a caned seat that disintegrated some years ago. The framework under it is all that enables her to sit in it with the aid of a pillow, so I thought it would be nice to fix it for her. I bought the cane, and as soon as I finish a time-sensitive project that has priority, I will tackle this job. Never having done it before, it will be a challenge, but is nothing I can’t handle. I am grateful to be able to do things like this. I know people whose arthritic hands don’t allow them such luxuries.

3.  My vision is presently a bit cloudy, but I expect it to begin clearing up as I work my way through my son’s “Ready, Set, Dream” course at church. A number of people have worked their way through the process of identifying their dreams and abilities as a foundation for engaging in that part of God’s work that ignites their passion for ministry. When I retired, I thought I had a pretty good idea how I would invest my retirement years, but so far, most of those plans haven’t materialized. I thought I would be spending much more time in Cuba working with pastors and friends there, but since the untimely death of my friend Joel, I’ve felt a bit unsettled about the direction our work in Cuba is to take. He saw possibilities that eluded me, and had the training to bring it to fruition. I’m only a pastor. I know how to preach, but I’m not the organizer and visionary Joel was. 

Since retirement, when it comes to a life-purpose, it has often felt as if I were walking through a fog. I’ve kept busy, hopefully with good and worthwhile investment of my energies, but I don’t think I’ve hit my retirement stride. I am expecting my son’s class combined, with an impending mission trip, to help me see more clearly. I am grateful tonight for the hope this gives, and the possibilities that lie before me.

Old, Blue, New

January 4, 2020

A GIFT OLD, NEW, BLUE

1.  I see old every time I look in the mirror. I feel old occasionally, like tonight my back hurts. When I was a kid, my grandparents seemed old to me, but I am older now than they were when I was growing up, and my image of them is not what I see inside me. Most of the time, my age is just numbers on a calendar, and I am thankful for each year, every day I’ve been given. Even a cursory glance through the obits shows me people who weren’t given the gift of old. 

2.  It’s been some twenty years since last I had them, so in one sense it won’t be new, but it will be new again. For Christmas, Linda bought me a beehive. I’ve wanted to get back into it for a long time, and come spring, I’ll either find a swarm or get a nuc (a small, commercially available colony of bees), and be back in business. A lot has changed in those twenty years; diseases previously unknown have infiltrated, making beekeeping much more hands-on than it used to be. A hobbyist like myself used to be able to set supers on the hive in the spring and leave the little critters alone till fall when it was time to take off the honey. With the diseases, pesticides, and such, a hive needs regular attention. Not quite the same as animal husbandry which requires daily work, but a bit more than I used to do. They are fascinating creatures, and provide much entertainment in addition to the honey and wax they provide. Linda listened to my heart, and I am grateful tonight for the prospect of a sweet future.

3.  “Isabel!” Linda exclaimed as the doorbell rang. She’s about the only one who announces her appearance with a push of the button as she sweeps into the dining room with a cheerful “hi!” Usually, she needs something—a stain to be removed from a shirt or basketball uniform, cookies baked for something going on at school; but tonight, she showed up for no particular reason at all. Full of stories and energy, her blue eyes sparkled as she talked. Mostly it was about friends and activities, both of which she has in abundance. Linda asked her about college plans, prompting a narrative about her grades. Half an hour later, she jumps up. “Dad wants the car back at 7:00, so I have to go,” she announced before giving us both hugs and bounding out the door. Recently, I have had a Facebook conversation with a high school classmate who spoke of the blessing of her grandchildren living nearby. Hers are twenty minutes away. Ours can walk to our house in ten. I am so thankful for Izzi’s blue eyes dancing in delight at our table tonight.

Overheard

January 3, 2020

THREE GRACES OVERHEARD

1.  This morning, a friend whose perspective and wisdom I cherish, emailed our writer’s group from his new home in the Carolinas. “I’m going to try to follow pastor Jim’s example of being thankful,” he said. He’s been around enough to know that is not an easy path, as I discovered when I began walking this road myself. Not passing judgment on events and situations I believe to be foolish or even dangerous seemed to be an abdication of responsibility, requiring that I take decisive steps to curtail my critical tongue. It took awhile, but in the process I learned that most of my commentary, especially on social media, was either preaching to the choir or merely raising the hackles of those on the other side. 

Interestingly, response from around the table seemed to think my approach to be somewhat naïve or Pollyanna-ish. Perhaps it is, but I am grateful for this discipline that has governed my thinking and writing for the past seven years. It hasn’t changed the world, but it has changed me, and if my friend is the only one who picks up the torch, it will have changed one other person, too. This conversation overheard inspires me to keep going.

2. Tonight our dinner group met. We ate and talked, and as the meal ended and the conversation tapered off, it was time to pray. We adjourned to the living room where one by one, we spoke of situations we or loved ones were facing. Our host then prayed for each request. He commented afterward that it wasn’t polished like mine would be, whereupon I reminded him that heartfelt trumps polish every time. Besides, he wasn’t talking to me; he was talking to our Heavenly Father. As an earthly father, I’m not concerned about the presentation when my children want to talk. I’m just glad to have them come. No, Ken wasn’t talking to me; he was talking to God, and the rest of us merely had the privilege of listening in and overhearing a conversation that included us. 

3. It’s hard to overhear conversations when you’re nearly deaf. It isn’t polite to lean over into the next booth at a restaurant. I’ve watched movies where the protagonist overhears a conversation that leads to a mystery to be solved. That’s not going to happen here! I did however, happen to overhear a conversation as I read my Bible this morning. John was baptizing people who came to hear his preaching. He had called on people to repent, i.e. to make an about face in the trajectory of their lives. Some of the religious leaders of the day came to hear him and requested baptism also. Most preachers I know would be ecstatic to have prominent people come requesting baptism, but not John. “You generation of snakes!” he thundered. “Who warned you to flee the wrath to come?” John was about as fire and brimstone as they come, and Jesus said of him, “There is none greater.”

Whenever I see one of those shirts or signs that says, “In a world where you can be anything, be kind,” I think of John. Why aren’t we encouraging people to be bold, to be holy, to be courageous, to excel? Kindness is a wonderful attribute, but it isn’t the end-all. As I read this morning, I overheard this conversation between John and the religious leaders, and as a retired pastor I have to ask myself, “Is he talking to me?”

A Full Plate

January 2, 2019

A Gift Outside, Inside, On a Plate

1.  Linda and I are quite definitely on the far side of middle age. Whenever I open the newspaper and see the obits, there are people younger than ourselves by many years, a reminder that we are closer to the end of the road than its beginning. Most of the time, we don’t really notice it too much. Some things we used to do without even thinking now require conscious decision-making, but it’s only when we look at photos from years gone by that we really notice our age. The laugh lines in our faces have deepened, the bags under my eyes are permanent fixtures. That being said, I am always appreciative of how Linda takes care of herself. She exercises, doesn’t overindulge, pays attention to the bathroom scale. Even when just working around the house, she always is presentable, and takes care to make sure when we are out together that she dresses for the occasion. No pajama bottoms, baggy sweatshirts, or ghastly tights for her! She makes sure what I see on the outside is easy on my eyes.

2.  Were it merely the outside, it would be a hollow beauty, but that’s not the case. St. Paul once said that though the outer self be wasting away, the inner self is being renewed day by day (2 Corinthians 4:16). Linda’s inner beauty glows more brightly with each passing day. She is careful about what she allows into her mind, and is constantly alert to the needs of others. I know many good people, but both her compassion and diligence are without equal. There is no one I’d rather spend my time with than her because she makes it so easy to do so. Even in those times of disagreement, she makes it easy by her quickness to forgive. She is definitely a Proverbs 31 woman! 

“Many daughters have done well, But you excel them all. Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing, But a woman who fears the LORD, she shall be praised.”  Prov. 31:29-30

3.  I am thankful tonight for what is on her plate. One of the reasons Linda weighs less than when we married is the quality of the meals she places on our plates and the amount of empty space she leaves on hers. It takes good nutrition to feed body and soul, and good discipline to not overdo it. Figuratively, in her, I have a plate that is full not just of food, but of life, because she pushes me to engage in ways I would not if left to myself. Our life-plates are full, all due to her, and I am thankful.

Beginning Again

January 1, 2019

It’s been said that our bodies are renewed at the cellular level every seven years, that physically we are literally not the same people we were seven years ago. I’m not sure that’s true, and have trouble imagining how our memories could be transmitted to new brain cells or how I could remain recognizable with an entirely new body. Besides, new things are supposed to work better than the old; I’m not seeing that happening when I get out of bed in the morning.

Seven years ago today, I began my journey of gratitude, vowing to eschew political and negative words for positive and upbuilding ones. Doing so lifted the clouds of melancholy that hung over my head for years. They have returned only so long as I drifted from my resolution, retreating once more when I get my thinking back on track. It has been an amazing journey. As I’ve said many times before, I didn’t realize the depth of my disobedience and faithlessness in neglecting gratitude. 1 Thessalonians 5:18 commands it, and my neglect of this command was just as sinful as if I had robbed or killed someone. In fact, I was robbing myself (and Linda) of joy, and was slowly killing my soul.

The discipline of gratitude with which I began was a calendar by Ann Voskamp that suggested three things each day for which to give thanks. I followed that for a year, then ventured off on my own, wandering occasionally into Scriptural, social, and theological commentary. Lately, it has felt as if I were getting a bit stale, that my observations have been shallow and too personally specific. After all, most everyone who has them is proud of their grandchildren. Who needs me to blather on about mine? So, I’ve decided seven years is a good time to come full circle, revisiting that calendar of gratitude. Here’s today’s offering:

THREE GIFTS HEARD

1.  The fact that I can hear at all is for me, a miracle. This morning, Linda spoke to me before I had put in my hearing aids. I was shocked at how little I could understand without them, the years I missed when my hearing was deteriorating, and the gift and miracle I have been given. For most of human history, hearing loss was simply something to be endured. The two tiny miracles that sit behind my ears are life-giving, allowing me to participate in conversations and be a part of all that happens all around me. 

2.  St. Paul tells us that “faith comes by hearing” (Romans 10:17). In his opening words of the Revelation, St. John offered a special blessing to those who “hear the words of this prophecy” (Revelation 1:3). Christians often speak of desiring to “see” Jesus. We imagine that if we could behold him in his glory, or had we been there to observe his passion, that we would be more devoted and faithful. But it was none other than Jesus himself who told Thomas, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are they who have not seen, and yet believed” (John 20:29). Perhaps seeing is not all that it’s cracked up to be. Maybe if we listened better, we would be better. So I am thankful for the command to listen, and the promised blessing for those who hear.

3.  I heard Linda speaking to me this morning. I listened to our son Nathan as we drove to a friend’s house this afternoon, talking all the way about the little things that bind relationships together, and the terrible impact of poverty on people’s lives. I heard this friend’s tearful thank you’s as we delivered the hot water tank he so desperately needed. “You are the only real friends I have,” he sobbed. Having known him for years, I don’t think he was play acting. My heart listened to our granddaughter Abi as she gave me a hug and an “Love you,” when she and her boyfriend popped in for a quick visit. I heard my daughter’s voice inviting us for dinner, and the laughter of her children as we talked and played games at the table. Those blessed with good hearing have no idea how precious is this gift. I’ve not even touched on the beauty of a symphony, the joy of playing bass or bassoon, or actually hearing a bird singing. I am grateful tonight for this amazing gift.