August 7, 2021
Kinston, North Carolina is fourteen hours from Sinclairville. Fourteen long hours on the road with only gas and bathroom breaks, no accidents and only one close call, we are tired and thankful to be home. Our brother in law Dennis is doing better, one baby step at a time, for which we are also deeply grateful. God is good and we are ready for bed.
August 6, 2021
Psalm 36 begins, “An oracle within my heart concerning the transgression of the wicked.” David proceeds to. Describe the behavior of the wicked in verses 2-4, much like we do when we complain about how bad things are getting in the world.
In verses 5-12 however, he takes a different tack, proclaiming God’s mercy and righteousness, his lovingkindness. When reflecting on the evil around him, instead of dwelling on it, he turns quickly to God’s faithful mercies. We would do well to follow this example, turning from the evil to reflecting upon God’s merciful faithfulness every time we’re tempted to complain. Dwelling only upon the evil magnifies it in our hearts and diminishes the power of God at work in the darkest of hours. It doesn’t take any special talent or grace to see the evil. Seeing God’s faithfulness requires a deliberate exercise of faith, a faith that enables us to see behind the surface of things to the goodness of our God.
August 5, 2021
“There aren’t any kids around here.” He said this matter-of-factly, without rancor or drama, but we couldn’t make ourselves believe it, so we took it as a challenge, going door-to-door, up and down the valleys that met in the little community we had begun to call home. We were too young and naive to think we couldn’t do it, and in a couple of weeks there were about thirty ragamuffin kids milling around the parsonage, eating hot dogs and s’mores while we welcomed them one by one.
One of the doors we knocked on was Dennis’s. When his folks asked who it was, he blew us off with some smart-alecky remark, but he still showed up for the hotdogs, along with his friend Charlie. They were like Frick and Frack, Dennis, tall and built like a tank, Charlie, short and squat. Along with the others, they would sit at our kitchen table eating her chocolate chip cookies as fast as Linda could pull them out of the oven. We played softball, and to the chagrin of the church patriarch and matriarch, but to the delight of the teenagers, installed a pool table in the dining room. They came for Bible lessons, Sunday School, and general hanging around. We even started a youth choir, with Charlie and Dennis in the back row, sounding like the drones on a bagpipe, their notes going neither up nor down.
The stories we could tell, of Linda getting met at the front door of one of our kids by her father and his shotgun, of the 25 mile hike we took that some walked barefoot, of lives transformed by the Gospel, and others who never seemed to make it stick, of Dennis who after a stint in the Navy, got pretty messed up until the night of his accident when after rolling his Plymouth Belvedere, woke up in a puddle of gasoline with a shattered hip, thinking he was going to die and praying that he wouldn’t.
We stayed in touch all these years since he was a teenager. Today, he is a leader in his local church, witnesses to anyone who will listen, and even leads worship. I’m guessing he’s learned when notes go up or down in the fifty intervening years. He’s 67 today (I think), and in the hospital again, recovering from the surgery he had two weeks ago when he again almost died. God had plans for him those years ago, and still has plans for him today. Linda and I had the privilege of visiting him in the hospital today, of holding his hand and praying for him, blessing him in the Name of Jesus Christ.
Being a pastor is funny business. Your failures stare you in the face, and are evident to even a casual passerby. Successes are often harder to gauge, and can take years to germinate, flower, and bear fruit. It was that way with Dennis, but we are humbled and grateful to have played a small part in it all, and to be able to pray with him once more. God is good, and he is faithful, and I am thankful tonight.
August 4, 2021
There comes a time when you have to let go of the bar, trusting your partner has timed it well and will catch you. I’m thinking tonight of the trapeze artist who if she never lets go of the bar will never “fly through the air with the greatest of ease.” Of course, there is no ease to it, but months and years of practice to make something extremely difficult look like a piece of cake.
I’m finding myself trying to figure out how to let go of the bar. In Matthew 25, Jesus tells the familiar story of the Talents, or more accurately the three servants. When reading this, I’ve usually been focused on the “wicked, lazy” servant who buried the master’s money in the ground instead of investing it. This morning, it was the faithful servants who drew my attention. The master’s commendation wasn’t a monetary reward, but a promotion. “You have been faithful over a few things; I will make. You ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord” (vv. 21 & 23). In other words, they each earned a promotion.
This is different than how we often imagine our eternal reward to be. The common cartoonish picture is of haloed saints sitting on a cloud playing harps, which has caused more than a few to reject faith in Christ as leading to eternal boredom. But what if this isn’t talking about heaven and eternal rewards at all? What if Jesus is teaching us about how things are ordered here in this world when we set ourselves about the Father’s business?
I’ve been retired for seven years, and still haven’t figured it out. Am I supposed to take it easy or find a new challenge? I don’t want or feel able to push as I once did, but sitting on the sidelines holds no attraction to me. I watch people who spend leisure hours on a boat or touring the country or world, and though there are places I would like to see, most of them would require more time and money than I’m willing to give for the privilege. To me, the better reward is not rest, but responsibility. Anything less feels like burying my talent.
So what is the bar? For me, I think it’s rest/leisure. There is part of me wanting to hold onto it. I know I need to put more effort into carving out my time for the Lord, giving him full, undivided attention. But that time has purpose. We retreat to recharge, that we may receive greater responsibility. Tomorrow awaits, filled with opportunity and challenges, and tonight, I await tomorrow with anticipation.
August 3, 2021
Perhaps the greatest danger in retirement is to stop living before you die. Like the runner who celebrates before crossing the finish line, only to be passed by the second or even third place runner, when the finish line looms within sight, it’s easy to let up. At such times, it’s good to remember my nephew’s maxim: “Second place is first loser.”
Psalm 92:13-14 says, “Those who are planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall still bear fruit in old age; They shall be fresh and flourishing.”
It isn’t written in stone that old age must be a debilitating decline into senility and infirmity, listlessly waiting for the grim reaper. Sadly, too many walk that dark path through no fault of their own, while others hasten it by poor life choices. None of us knows for sure what path God has chosen for us, but I am counting on this promise of fruitfulness in old age. Even if I am unable to physically do what once came easy to me, I can flourish in the courts of God. Though the flesh may fail, the spirit can continue growing till we take our final breath.
Weariness dogs my steps. At times, I have to force myself to get moving, but I do it because I believe the Scriptures that tell me I am an “oak of righteousness, a planting of the Lord” (Isaiah 61:3), and whatever God plants, he intends to flourish. At 97, my mother told me, “I don’t know when I stopped getting old and became old.” I am working on it, but am not there yet, and don’t plan on making that transition any time soon. God planted me here in Sinclairville forty years ago; my roots have grown deep, and my hope and intent is to flourish and bear fruit. Who knows? God may pull me up and plant me somewhere else, but planted I am, and with God’s help, fruitful I intend to be.
August 3, 2021
There is power in repetition. Sometimes when trouble sweeps in like a sudden summer storm, it isn’t enough to simply declare our faith in the teeth of the wind’s fury. Sometimes, we need to repeat it over and over again so it builds momentum like an avalanche rolling downhill gathers size and power till it crushes whatever is in its path.
In Psalm 62, David clings to the Rock of his salvation, declaring in v. 2, “I shall not be greatly moved.” We can almost feel the hesitancy in his words, the sense that he’s not quite sure of his strength in the face of trouble. “I think I can hold up, but if not, I don’t believe I’ll be completely defeated.” He is waiting on God, but he’s only just started, tentatively feeling his way through the morass.
So he keeps going, repeating his declaration with a slight change. He began with, “Truly my soul silently waits for God. From him comes my salvation. He only is my rock and my salvation; he is my defense I shall not be greatly moved.” He revisits this theme, but instead of a declaration, he utters a command: “My soul, wait silently for God alone! For my expectation is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation; he is my defense, I shall not be moved.” When he takes charge over his faltering faith, commanding his soul to wait, he no longer speaks of being somewhat moved; he shall not be moved!
It’s not enough to hopefully declare our faith like a child whistling his way past the cemetery. As we repeat our faith in Jesus Christ, declaring over and over that he is our confidence, that confidence begins to build in us till it carries us through the storm. This is why memorizing Scripture and repeating the Creeds are so important—by sheer repetition, they fortify the soul, strengthening it for the day of trial. I don’t remember Scripture as easily as once I did, so I am grateful for those Sunday School and youth group leaders who drilled verses into us at a young age. And I am thankful for the Creed that gives a summary of truths I don’t always feel, but which always provide a foundation that holds in the storm.
August 1, 2021
It’s only the second time I’ve heard it, but it’s lyrics, sung with such power by our Bri Katilus, moved me almost to tears this morning during worship. Linda and I talk often of our blessings that repeatedly are showered upon us, blessings that have at times come in the form of tests and trials. Charles Spurgeon once said that he had learned to “kiss the waves that dashed [him] against the Rock of Ages.”
I love the good times, the easily received mountain top blessings of family, friends, resources, but it’s been in the valleys that I’ve experienced most the intimacy and tenderness of God. Bri led us as we worshipped in song, bowing in gratitude for the wonder and goodness of our God. The lyrics alone are meaningful, but the melody drives them home with even greater power. The song can be found online, but here are the words that ministered to me this morning:
… I love You, Lord
For Your mercy never fails me
All my days, I've been held in Your hands
From the moment that I wake up
Until I lay my head
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God
… And all my life You have been faithful
And all my life You have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God
… I love Your voice
You have led me through the fire
In the darkest night
You are close like no other
I've known You as a Father
I've known You as a Friend
And I have lived in the goodness of God
… And all my life You have been faithful
And all my life You have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God
… 'Cause Your goodness is running after
It's running after me
Your goodness is running after
It's running after me
With my life laid down
I'm surrendered now
I give You everything
'Cause Your goodness is running after
It's running after me
The loving faithfulness of our God revealed by the Holy Spirit in Jesus Christ is worthy of our praise, so tonight, I sing again of the goodness of God. Thank you, Bri, for leading us into the Presence of God this morning.
