Kitchen Grace

March 7, 2023

Occasionally when I read the Bible, my mind is slow, my spirit dull. I believe God is trying to get through to me, but sometimes he has a hard go of it. This morning I read Hebrews 7-10. It’s pretty technical stuff with a lot of good information explaining why Jesus Christ is superior to the old priestly system of ancient Judaism. As much as it challenged my mind, my heart was unmoved. When that happens, it’s often a sign that I need to take a bit different tack.

So as the sun began peeking over the horizon setting the tops of the trees ablaze with light shining on the snow that last night covered the branches, I began to give thanks. Immediately, something inside me sprang to life! I had ceased looking for an experience and had turned my attention to simply look in wonder at the beauty displayed before me; a gift of grace from a loving Heavenly Father.

I checked my Gratitude Calendar to find the suggestion to find three things in the kitchen for which to give thanks. That’s an easy one.

First is Linda. She’s not a thing, but she loves her kitchen! She putters in it like an old man putters in his shop, with one big exception: the results of her puttering are tasty and nutritious, and I get to be the recipient of her skills. If she isn’t concocting something for the palate, she is sitting at the old oak pedestal table studying her Bible, preparing for her women’s Bible study, or writing letters to grandkids, one of our kids, or friends.

Food is the second thing for which I am thankful is the food. Our cupboards are stocked, the refrigerator also. Too many people open their refrigerators to nearly empty shelves; we have the opposite problem: sometimes it won’t all fit in. Not having to wonder where the next meal comes from is a blessing many don’t have, and one we don’t ever want to take for granted.

The third gift of gratitude today is our kitchen table. Some of the best times of the day are those we spend, coffee mugs in hand, just talking. And laughing. And talking some more. Years ago, Nate and Matthew regaled us with stories of their adventures in school which kept us laughing sometimes for hours. Jessie was quieter, but we learned of friends, academics, swimming and track (yes, you heard me correctly!), and musicals. Those were such special times, when Jess graduated and went to college, I told Linda we should have had more kids; we had such a good time raising them. 

Now, it’s just the two of us, back the way we started except older, wiser, and more deeply in love. When we were first married, we thought we knew what love was; we had no idea. But we know now, and it is good. No. It’s more than good; it’s wonderful! Tonight we sat at our table again, talking, laughing, and loving, thanking our God for the grace at our age to still be here, to be mobile, and have most of our wits about us. As for the wits we’ve lost, we really don’t miss them!

 

Wakened by God

 March 6, 2023

Last night in our “Hearing from God” class, we were instructed to be silent for a short time, then to write down whatever single word or short phrase came to mind. The context of this exercise was that we so often jump into prayer requests without ever taking time to listen to what God might be saying in our hearts. So I listened. 

The words that came to me were, “Get Up!” A little backstory is in line here. Prior to this time of silence, we were asked to identify anything that might hinder our hearing from God. We were asked to name one word that came to mind. My word was “consistency.” Contrary to my expectations of retirement, I find myself with at least three mornings each week when I have meetings starting anytime between 6:00 and 9:00 am. My normal rising time is between 6:00 and 6:30, which means that at least on two of these three days, I don’t have time first thing in the morning to sit, read, and pray.  I try to work out at least two mornings each week, and if I can’t do it first thing, it tends not to happen at all.

I make sure I take time with God every day, but when the time jumps all over the clock, it doesn’t feel very consistent. It feels like I’m just squeezing God in whenever it’s convenient. That’s no good. So when I heard the words, “Get Up,” I knew it meant rising earlier than my normal 6:00 am. Last night, I decided to not set my alarm and see what time I woke up—sort of testing whether this word was from God or somewhere within my psyche. This morning, I was wide awake at 5:20! One of the first things I do in the morning is scroll through my emails, eliminating all the fluff at once. Takes less than a minute. All that was left this morning was my Daily Light devotional, which read as follows:

The LORD your God... went before you in the way to seek you out a place to pitch your tents, in fire by night and in the cloud by day, to show you by what way you should go.—Like an eagle that stirs up its nest, that flutters over its young, spreading out its wings, catching them, bearing them on its pinions, the LORD alone guided him.—The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness. (From Deut. 1 & 32, and Zeph. 3:17).

God went before me by night, and stirred up my nest in the morning, establishing my steps so he could rejoice over me with singing. Answered prayer—I wanted to rise early; God worked though the night, woke me up in the morning so I would be able to take the time needed for him to bless me with his Presence. It doesn’t get much better or clearer than that!

Holy Home

March 5, 2023

Way back in the 60’s Jackie Gleason was interviewed about his life. Gleason was no prude, and no stranger to rather colorful language which he used freely in his nightclub appearances. The interviewer noted the difference between these live performances and his work in television, from his work in The Honeymooners and the Jackie Gleason show. Live, his language could be as down and dirty as the worst of them, but in television, it was squeaky clean. Why was this, the interviewer asked.

“On television, I am being invited into people’s homes,” Gleason replied. “I am a guest there, and must act and talk accordingly.” I’ve thought of his response occasionally through the years, especially as the standards of speech and conduct have eroded over time. I remember my grandfather comment back in the 60’s about something he saw on television, commenting that it was “smutty.” That was nearly sixty years ago! I can’t imagine what he would say today, and he wasn’t even a Christian back then. 

People who know Linda and me know how we speak and how we don’t speak. So they know when they come to our house that profanity isn’t part of our lives. So why do we allow people on television to use language and speak innuendoes that we wouldn’t tolerate of real people who sit around our table? Last night, we watched a movie, one that has been highly rated and critically acclaimed. The language was terrible, with the characters dropping the F-bomb seemingly with every other sentence. We were uncomfortable, but watched till the end because the story line was compelling. Then the Lord convicted me overnight about this. As head and spiritual covering of our home, it was my responsibility to be the guard at the gate, and I failed. I allowed something unholy into our home, sullying my wife’s and my purity and holiness. I had to repent before the Lord and apologize to my wife for failing to protect the sanctity of our home. 

Our kids might disagree, but I don’t think we’re particularly prudish. We are fortunate not to have had first hand experience with much of the crude, violent, and debauched depravity of human life. We’ve not had to live through nearly the trauma many have experienced first hand. We are grateful for that. We are not unaware of it, nor of its destructive effect on the human mind and soul. Protecting my home, making it a sanctuary for the thrice-holy God Almighty is serious business and my responsibility. God’s overnight conviction made me aware of how easily I unbolted and un barred the gate to allow evil to penetrate without hardly a whimper of resistance. I am determined it will not happen again. The peace of holiness is far more important than a compelling story line, and God’s story is so much better than anything the world can put together.

 

Hard to Be Thankful

 March 4, 2023

Sometimes it’s good for us to look at life from a different angle if we are to squeeze out of it all God puts into it for our good.

In my thankful calendar, today’s suggestion is to give thanks for three things hard to be thankful for. It got me to thinking.

Linda and I attended two championship basketball games today that would decide which of the local girls’ teams would go on to WNY sectionals. The first of these games was Panama vs. Sherman, long time rivals. Sherman leapt to an healthy lead early in the first quarter, which they maintained for the first half. The game itself isn’t the subject of my comments tonight; it’s the guy who sat behind us. He screamed, yelled at the refs, and spewed forth a constant barrage of insults and comments, none of which were particularly edifying.

It got so bad I was tempted to turn around and tell him to just shut up, but decided I didn’t need to enter my dog into that fight. Then I got to thinking, “I can’t believe he enjoyed the game; it was nearly two hours of constant irritation to him. He can’t be a very happy person.” I actually started feeling sorry for him, not being able to actually enjoy a sport about which he was obviously so passionate. I then gave thanks that I don’t know enough about basketball to get worked up over it. I enjoyed the entire game; that our team won was just icing on the cake, and had we lost, it would not have spoiled my day. Turns out, it was this annoying fan who prompted my gratitude.

During the game, my hearts burn kicked into gear. It’s an occasional affliction that warns me it’s time to lose some weight, kind of like an early warning NORAD system for my body. It’s not pleasant, but it’s also not life-threatening. I am thankful that God’s way of getting my attention regarding my health is heartburn instead of heart attack.

That’s only two “hard to be thankful for” items. I can’t think of a third, which means my life is pretty good right now. I am thankful for that, too. If an annoying fan and a bit of heartburn are my most pressing difficulties, I am indeed, a blessed man tonight.

Into His Presence

 March 3, 2023

Here’s a little secret: Not every time I open the Bible does something jump out at me as a message from the Lord. Lots of times, I read. And read. And read. Nothing. But I keep reading because it is the most sure way of hearing from God. Visions, dreams, oozy-woozy feelings can be fun, but there’s no guarantee any of that is from God.

When my mind is dull or my body weary to the point that I’m not very receptive, I’ve found it helps to begin praising and thanking God for any and everything I can think of. In Psalm 95:2 tells us to come before his presence with thanksgiving. While Psalm 100 reminds us to “Serve the Lord with gladness; Come before His presence with singing. Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, And into His courts with praise. Be thankful to Him, and bless His name.”

(Psalm 100:2, 4)

Whenever we give thanks, we switch the focus of our thoughts from ourselves to God, which is what worship is all about. If all I think about is whether or not I feel God’s presence, I have stepped away from it. We are to come before him with a humble heart, which doesn’t mean thinking less of ourselves, but thinking of ourselves less. 

So tonight even though my reading didn’t yield spiritual nuggets, I praise and thank God. I was able to get out of bed this morning. My mind is working well enough to continue with my Spanish lessons (Gloria a Dios!), and my friend Clark is willing to tutor me. I have the love of my wife, a warm home, peace with God, the assurance of forgiveness, and salvation from my sins through faith in Jesus Christ’s atoning death on the cross. I’m not experiencing some spiritual high, but I don’t need to. My focus is on Jesus Christ who alone is worthy of my praise. That focus takes me into his presence with joy (Hebrews 13:20-21).

Work and Rest

 March 2, 2023

I don’t know how I did it. When I was working, Thursdays were my day to be in the office, hopefully finishing up my sermon for Sunday. It was an all-day affair, week after week, year after year. Today after our early men’s prayer group, I came home, sat down and began to work. It’s now nearly 3:00 pm, and my mind is pretty much mush. I don’t know when I passed my prime, but it’s surely somewhere behind me. 

There is still plenty to be done, but pushing through like I used to just doesn’t work anymore. This morning’s reading was in the book of Hebrews where the author warns of missing the rest God has for his people because of our hardness and unbelief of heart. 

“Therefore, as the Holy Spirit says: “Today, if you will hear His voice, Do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion, In the day of trial in the wilderness,” —Hebrews 3:7-8

I’ve always thought of that hardness and unbelief in terms of committing sins that render our hearts and minds impervious to the Gospel, but I’m beginning to think a bit differently.

Work is good. At the very beginning, God told us to follow his example and work six days. We’ve reduced that to five, and more recently, four, but only if you really want to. Thousands of able-bodied people are refusing to work, citing low pay, lack of benefits, and just plain disinterest. Unless one is truly disabled, unable to work, such behavior is sinful. Plain and simple. It’s direct and deliberate disobedience to one of the Ten Commandments. 

On the other end of the scale are those who can’t seem to relax; those who cannot get their hands off the wheel for even a moment. I’ve at times fallen into that category. I didn’t take vacations, skimped on days off, working without a break often for weeks at a time. And now in retirement, I find myself still thinking the day is a loss if I didn’t accomplish something—if I didn’t work. And I’m finding that keeping the nose to the grindstone doesn’t make me accomplish more; it only wears out my nose.

“There remains therefore a rest for the people of God. For he who has entered His rest has himself also ceased from his works as God did from His. Let us therefore be diligent to enter that rest, lest anyone fall according to the same example of disobedience.”

—Hebrews 4:9-111

So the promise of rest in Hebrews 3 and 4 is one of God’s ways of reminding us that he is God and we are not. If I refuse to rest, it indicates my unbelief in the care and provision of God, that I don’t trust him to do his work, as in “God, you can’t handle this without me.” Talk about arrogance! So, I’m working on letting go. Did you catch that—“working on” letting go? I guess there’s more work to be done than I realize. But it’s God’s work, not mine. Right now, I’m going to take a break. My mind is tired, and as it turns out, so is my butt. Time to get moving!

Happiness and Joy

 March 1, 2023

Dr. Paul Hessert, my Systematic Theology professor in seminary, did his doctoral work in Edinburgh, Scotland. He used to tell us that he was convinced that John Knox’s dour Presbyterian theology was a product of the brooding Scottish climate. He may have been on to something there.

Today was one of the rare sunny spring days in Western New York. As I drove through the countryside to visit with a couple of friends, the fields alongside the narrow unpaved road leading to their house were dotted with cattle grazing and soaking up the sun (As an aside, my spell-check kept changing unpaved to unsaved. I wonder what that means?). The skies were deep blue above me, and the scene was serene. I don’t think it would have been possible for me to be downcast on a day like this.

It does make me wonder though, how much of my joy in Christ is actually joy in Christ, and how much of it is the result of my surroundings. I remember when I was just starting out as a pastor, speaking quite freely about the joy of being a Christian. Two years in Chicago, first in a group home for teenagers, and then as student pastor in a volatile neighborhood that was the crossroads of the Black, Eastern European, and Hispanic communities, made me question my previous theological certainty. Let’s face it: it’s easier being happy when our surroundings are happy. 

I learned back then, and occasionally have to re-learn all over again, that real Christian joy comes from within, and is unaffected by outer circumstances. In other words, we can be joyful even when we aren’t particularly happy at the moment. Joy comes from knowing I’m forgiven and chosen by God. When my outer surroundings are pleasant, it’s an added bonus of happiness to be enjoyed, but not confused with the Holy Spirit gift of joy. Today, I was privileged to experience both.