Bass Notes

 January 8, 2021

“Hi pastor Jim! I wanted to double check with you and see if you were still interested in teaching SOTA (School of the Arts) this semester, and then also see if you still wanted to teach bass or if you were interested in teaching another class!” When Katie texted me this message earlier this week, I responded by telling her I would be happy to teach bass again.

You must understand that when agreeing to teach, you only have to be one step ahead of the student. When it comes to bass, I am barely adequate, and with upright bass, I am a rank beginner. But I am one step ahead of someone who has never touched the instrument.

I continued my response to Katie. “As for other classes, if anyone were interested in upright bass, I would be willing to teach that.” I had barely finished hitting send when the response came: “Oh that’s awesome! If I wasn’t teaching, I would LOVE to take upright! I always thought it was so cool!”

“It could be arranged,” I answered. She is excited, and I am happy to share what little knowledge I have. As I’ve said many times before, I am living proof that one doesn’t have to be a good musician to appreciate good music. Or even to play it. I am thankful for the opportunity to encourage Katie. She can build on her foundation of keyboard and vocals to become an even more versatile member of the worship team. St. Paul told Timothy to stir up the gift that was given him. Katie is doing just that, and I get to be the stirrer, blessing both of us, and maybe a whole bunch of people, along the way.

Unreported News

 January 7, 2021

We’ve longed for the media to give us something other than its endless stream of COVID bad news, and yesterday, we finally got our wish, although perhaps not quite the way we had hoped. For those obsessed with all things political, here’s some news you might have missed.

A young man and woman are quietly and joyfully planning their wedding. Hopes and dreams are not the sole provenance of the political crowd. This couple is trying to juggle what they can afford with what governmental limitations may be imposed six months from now upon their joyful celebration, but today, they are happy.

A husband and wife are reunited after an estrangement that lasted for over a year. They both worked on it, and are now experiencing a depth of love they hadn’t dreamed of before. Their children are doubly blessed having them together without the former tension that plagued their home.

The winter solstice has passed; days are slowly getting longer—a faint harbinger of warmer days, snowbells pushing up to the light, and the return of the geese. Our fire still warms our bodies, while our love warms our hearts. We read tonight in peace and gratitude.

The coffee on the table by my side is hot and strong; somewhere, a coffee grower eats his supper because of that cup. He worked, sold his product to a supplier who also eats tonight, as does the roaster, the person who designed and produced the bag in which it was put. A trucker, warehouse worker, stock boy, and checkout clerk are also part of the blessing of that cup.

A birthday is being celebrated today. For some, it is their very first; they took their first breath. A life full of possibility, challenge, joy, and danger awaits them. Someone else blew out seventy, eighty, or even ninety candles, perhaps with help, but remembering birthdays past, joys and sorrows, the mystery of life.

Someone whose life hung by a thread, someone at the end of their rope, seeing nothing for which to hope, found that hope as another shared the Gospel with him. The door to eternal life swung wide open, and she walked—no—danced through, the burden and guilt of sin lifted from sagging shoulders that now stand straight and erect.

Today brought much more than the media would report. There’s no profit in telling the rest of the story, but it’s there. I am thankful tonight for the stories that never make the headlines, but make the front page of someone’s life tonight.

An Ordinary Day

 January 6, 2021

It’s often a challenge to come up with something to write about. Big events swirl around us; our country will undoubtedly swerve hard to the left, now that the presidency and both houses of Congress are in Democrat hands. Some are rejoicing; many are worried about the accelerated shrinking of our liberties we see as government engulfs more and more of our lives. I was apparently unusually quiet at dinner tonight; Linda asked me if I were worried about the Georgia election. I’m not surprised, and I’m not particularly worried. My concern is the kind of world my grandkids will inherit, but I have to decide if I really believe God is in control. If I don’t believe this, I might as well stop writing.

Compared to the seismic changes happening all around us, the small concerns of my little world seem almost petty, except for one thing: Life is made up of small things. Without the microscopic, the macro world wouldn’t exist. So I engage each day the best I know how, with gratitude, integrity, and diligence. 

Today, I went to the dentist to get a tooth crowned. I was surprised at how quick and simple the procedure was, and am thankful to have insurance and the money to pay the bill. I bought a portable compressor to power my pneumatic stapler for assembling bee equipment before coming home to tape and paint the laundry room. That being accomplished, I trimmed out one window. Tonight is our village board meeting, and tomorrow, I hope to get started on the other windows and start installing the flooring so I can move the washer and dryer in. Not one of these activities is world-shaking. Nobody’s world would have come crashing down if I hadn’t done one or more of them. But if I had instead parked myself on the couch to watch TV all afternoon, something evil would have happened.

If this last statement sounds a bit melodramatic, consider that life is made of choices. A small deviation today may not look like much, but in hunting or target shooting, a tiny shift at the end of the muzzle will send the bullet wide of the mark. If I want to be like Christ; if I want to come to the end of my earthly journey with integrity, the small things I do today are important. I may not score a bullseye, but I at least want to leave my marks on the paper. Too many people today are shooting first, then painting the target around wherever the bullet hits. It looks good, but is as fake as today’s news.

It has been a busy, unstressful, productive day. Whatever happens elsewhere, I can stand today before my God and say I have not squandered the strength he has given me, and humbly present this ordinary day back to him with gratitude for the grace I have been given in Christ.

Thoughts

 January 5, 2021

For many of us, our greatest problem is that we have our eyes glued to the screen instead of the Scriptures. We obsess over things we cannot change, and are lethargic about the things we can change. I cannot change the outcome of an election, but I can control my attitude about it. I cannot by myself control the direction our country is heading, but I can control the direction I am heading. I cannot control other people’s decisions, but I don’t have to let them control mine. However, all this takes discipline and self-control. 2 Corinthians 10:5 instructs us to “[cast] down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God,” and to “[bring] every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ.” My thoughts are often like runaway calves; as soon as I corral one, another breaks loose, and I have to chase it down and drag it in. 

It’s tempting to get discouraged. You would think once I’ve got that wayward thought in Christ’s corral, it would stay there, but they keep breaking out. Here’s what I’ve learned: The fact that we’re still chasing them down is evidence of God’s work in our hearts. The longer I’m a Christian, the more I realize though the war was won by Christ on the cross, the battle in my heart is never over. 

At times, it feels overwhelming. Asa faced an army of over a million men and 300 chariots with half that many footsoldiers, not the best of odds. He “cried out to the LORD his God, and said, “LORD, it is nothing for you to help, whether with any or with those who have no power; help us, O LORD our God, for we rest on you, and in your name we go against this multitude. O LORD, you are our God” (2 Chronicles 14:11). He saw the reality he faced, but he didn’t let it define him. Though the text doesn’t tell us this, I know from my own personal experience that the only way he could face those odds was by spending more time in God’s presence than in his enemy’s presence. Too often, we do just the reverse.

Jehoshaphat faced a similar situation. He too, turned to the Lord, saying, “O our God...we have no power against this great multitude that is coming against us; nor do we know what to do, but our eyes are upon you” (2 Chronicles 20:12). When we don’t know what to do, keeping our attention focused on God is not a bad strategy. The problem is, we suffer from spiritual attention deficit disorder. 

When it’s hardest to do—that’s when I need to double down in prayer. When I don’t feel like meditating upon Scripture is when it is most important for me to do so. When it’s easier to stay home than to visit someone in need is just when it is imperative for me to kick myself in gear and go. The battle is in our minds, which is why we are given the helmet of salvation. My thoughts need saving, and for that, I need the grace of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit. That power is not always an energy I feel; often it is a determination I command.

The past year brought much we didn’t expect and much to dampen the spirit. But God brings much more: “Where sin abounded, grace abounded more” (Romans 5:20). THAT’s where I will corral my thoughts this year, every time they escape. 

Comfortable Faith

 January 4, 2021

The new year has begun, but for many, last year’s old worries and fears haven’t been left behind. Even some who profess faith in Christ are almost paralyzed by fear. It’s understandable. This past year has brought a pandemic, government more intent on fighting each other than actually governing, a contentious presidential race, and a biased media that no one trusts. We’re used to beginning a new year that was more or less predictable. Our world was predictable. Our lives were predictable...comfortable. Not anymore. 

Faith isn’t needed when life is predictable. When I can be pretty sure about what is going to happen, faith is superfluous. I don’t need faith to cross the street. I would need plenty of it to cross a canyon on a tightrope. 

This morning’s devotional reading included this line: “You’ll never learn faith in comfortable surroundings.” I can’t say I particularly like the sound of that, but I know it’s true. If my faith only holds up in the sunshine, it’s not really faith at all. Only if my faith holds me steady in the storm can I actually claim to have faith. A boat that only looks good on dry land isn’t much of a boat. Any leaky tub can keep you high and dry on land.

I have no desire to seek out difficult circumstances. They’ll find me easily enough. But when they come, I have a choice: I can either curl up into an emotional fetal position, run away, or face it head on with courage. I like comfort, but if I want to live faithfully, literally “full of faith,” I will not avoid discomfort. I have 361 days to practice. Hopefully, there will be some comfortable days, but when the uncomfortable ones come my way, by the grace of God, I will learn a bit more what it means to have faith.

Greed

 January 2, 2021

I couldn’t count the number of times I’ve read through the Proverbs, but realized this morning I’ve been misreading 1:19. Verses 10-18 look like a warning against falling in with a violent gang of robbers or burglars—those blatantly determined to accost and rob others. Verse 19 is a “gotcha” verse. The author has drawn us in with obvious warning, but he suddenly turns the tables on us: “So are the ways of everyone who is greedy for gain. It takes away the life of its owners.” Too often, this is me.

We don’t have to stick a gun in someone’s ribs to rob them; however it manifests itself, greed robs those unfortunate enough to fall into the greedy person’s snare. It wrenches out of its victim’s grasp whatever she isn’t strong enough to hold onto. What we don’t realize is how greed robs us of our own lives, causing us to focus on the temporary and elusive stuff that cannot satisfy the soul. 

Someone once asked John D. Rockefeller—at the time the richest man in America—“How much is enough?” Rockefeller’s response was telling: “Just a little more.” Whether it’s our unwillingness to pass on second helpings, or our decision to stuff our things in a storage locker rather than part with it, greed isn’t just the vice of the wealthy. It’s easy to look at the ultra-rich and say, “at least I don’t have THAT much,” and absolve ourselves of guilt and responsibility. I wish I were preaching to someone else, but my wife will testify that I have more junk lying around than anyone could reasonably need. 

When I stand before our Lord and he asks me, “What did you do with all I entrusted to your care,” I hope I don’t have to bow my head in shame and like the third servant in Jesus’ parable of the Talents, say, “instead of investing and multiplying it for you, I buried it.” If I am to be like one of the first two servants and hear Jesus say, Well done, good and faithful servant; enter into the joy of your Lord,” I would do well to rid myself of all the stuff that doesn’t contribute to the purposes for which he has called me to himself. Scriptures like this in Proverbs help me recalibrate my priorities, for which I am thankful tonight.

From Beginning to End

 January 1, 2021

While cleaning out my mother’s apartment last November, we had to decide what to do with all her books. According to Linda, bringing them home was not an option, so we boxed most of them up and gave them to our granddaughter Alex, who will in turn give them to Simba, a pastor she met while in Uganda a few years ago. A combination of devotionals and Bible textbooks collected over the course of about sixty years, I managed to save a few of them for my own use, including a small volume entitled Streams in the Desert, by Mrs. Charles Cowman.

Her Scripture choice for January 1 comes from Deuteronomy 11:11-12. “The land which you cross over to possess is a land of hills and valleys, which drinks water from the rain of heaven, a land for which the LORD your God cares; the eyes of the LORD your God are always on it, from the beginning of the year to the very end of the year.” —Deuteronomy 11:11-12 

The “land” we are entering today will have its hills and valleys, its ups and downs, but it is God’s land, God’s year, and he will be watching over it from now until December 31, 2021. We never know what a coming year will bring; we got blindsided last year. Perhaps we were a bit overconfident, walking through life with a swagger of invincibility. 2021 certainly knocked the wind out of our sails. That doesn’t mean we should stay in safe harbor for this next year. God’s eyes are on this year, from beginning to end, and if he sees it, he who loved us so much that he sent his Son to die on a cross for our eternal salvation will not allow into this year anything destructive. The only way we can be destroyed is by turning away from the God who sees and bowing before the deceptive gods of this world who allure with their siren song of prosperity without pain, harvest without sowing, and love without tears. 

Our God and Savior sees, and loves...and still is King of kings and Lord of lords. Let us praise his Name forevermore!