Emmett

 November 30, 2021

Emmett Waite succeeded me as pastor when I left my first church to attend seminary. Emmett was a retired Reformed pastor from the Hudson valley who brought a lifetime of wisdom to the church and to me. During the transition time, he showed up at our door one day holding a trivet. He had made it himself from a tile he had placed in a wooden frame. As he handed it to me, he said, “If you throw this to the floor at my feet, it will not change the affection with which I give it.”

Of course, I took it and treasured it for many years. Many moves later, I cannot say whatever became of it; Emmett long ago walked into the presence of his Lord and Savior, but that memory remains burned into my mind.

Gift giving is a two part process; there’s the giving, but there must also be the receiving for the transaction to be complete. It all breaks down if both parts are not present. This morning in my reading, I came across John 14:27, and it has been running through my mind all day. 

“Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”

These words Jesus spoke to his disciples on the last night he would be with them in this life. They had followed as he taught and healed, confronted the religious leaders, and set his sights on Jerusalem and the Cross. They were trying to make sense of a situation that was barreling out of control and looked to become a disaster for him and them. They were understandably worried; then they heard these words. 

Notice that Jesus is offering them (and us) a gift—peace. The first part of the transaction is complete; he has offered. The question remains as to whether we will receive it. Whether we do or not, Jesus’ love for us will not change. If I am lacking peace, it’s not because it’s not available; it’s because I have refused to receive the gift, or if I’ve received it, instead of opening it, I’ve just let it sit in a corner, unopened, unused. 

We all say we want peace, but instead of actually taking Jesus at his word, we occupy our minds with all the things that rob us of our peace. God isn’t in the business of teasing us with a gift he has no intention of giving. If he offers it, it is available. If we don’t have what he offers, it’s because we haven’t believed him and haven’t reached out and taken hold of his gift. This gift of peace is continually before me. I chose to receive it, and choose again each day. I learned that from Emmett many years ago, and it has made all the difference.

Finishing Well

 November 29, 2021

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Finally, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me on that Day, and not to me only but also to all who have loved His appearing.” —II Timothy 4:7-8 

The Bible is filled with stories of those who started well but petered out before reaching the finish line. Some, like Joash in 2 Chronicles, did well for a long time, but got proud and complacent, and went off the rails. Others, like Demas (2 Timothy 4:10), got distracted, entranced by the glitter of this life. Some, I imagine, just got tired of the battle. Elijah was on the verge of quitting when God sent him on a much-needed vacation (1 Kings 19).

Jesus put it plainly: “He who endures to the end shall be saved” (Matthew 24:13). I’m at a point in life where I don’t worry about much. Covid doesn’t scare me; I take reasonable precautions in life; there are places I wouldn’t go alone at night; I buckle up when I’m driving, and am careful with my fingers when I use my table saw. I’m in no hurry to rush the process, but I’m not afraid to die. 

The only thing I really fear is that I might not end well. Retirement can be a trap; it’s easy to settle into a more casual pace that eventually slows to a crawl. This is true in spiritual life as well as in the natural day to day stuff. We’ve all read the stories of famous Christian leaders who started believing their own press, grew careless, and went through the guardrails to their own destruction. Sadly, such failures affect so many others who followed their ministries and teaching. They were stars that shone brightly till they exploded, engulfing those close to them and lighting up the media before fading into oblivion.

“Lord, grant me mercy to finish strong. Protect me from my sinful self, that it not come down from the cross. May it not rise to infect me with its living death of sin and rebellion. The words of the old hymn are so true: “Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it; prone to leave the God I love.” In your mercy I place my trust; in your saving power in Christ alone, I place my hope.”

The Holy City

 November 28, 2021

Advent has come. We think of it as the buildup to Christmas, a looking forward to the day while looking backward to what it commemorates. Historically however, the Advent Scriptures point not backward to Christ’s first Advent, but to his Second Coming, his Second Advent. 

This is reflected in many of the Christmas Carols so familiar to many of us. “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” for example, has these words:

For lo! the days are hastening on, 

by prophet seen of old, 

when with the ever-circling years 

shall come the time foretold 

when peace shall over all the earth 

its ancient splendors fling, 

and the whole world send back the song 

which now the angels sing.

Similarly, “Angels from the Realms of Glory” has for it’s fourth and fifth verses, 

Saints, before the altar bending,
watching long in hope and fear,
suddenly the Lord, descending,
in his temple shall appear.

Though an infant now we view him,
he shall fill his Father's throne,
gather all the nations to him;
every knee shall then bow down.

When I was a mere boy, there was a man in our church who had a beautiful Irish tenor voice and would occasionally sing a solo. I only remember two songs in his repertoire, but can still in my mind see him at the pulpit, a head crowned with wavy black hair, singing words which at first seem to have little to do with Christmas, but which I heard again yesterday in a concert led by Andre Rieu, entitled, “The Holy City.” It’s lyrics are as follows: 

Last night I lay sleeping

There came a dream so fair

I stood in old Jerusalem

Beside the temple there

I heard the children singing

And ever as they sang

Methought the voice of Angels

From Heaven in answer rang

"Jerusalem, Jerusalem!

Lift up you gates and sing

Hosanna in the highest

Hosanna to your King!"

And then methought my dream was chang'd

The streets no longer rang

Hush'd were the glad Hosannas

The little children sang

The sun grew dark with mystery

The morn was cold and chill

As the shadow of a cross arose

Upon a lonely hill

"Jerusalem, Jerusalem!

Hark! How the Angels sing

Hosanna in the highest

Hosanna to your King!"

And once again the scene was chang'd

New earth there seem'd to be

I saw the Holy City

Beside the tideless sea

The light of God was on its streets

The gates were open wide

And all who would might enter

And no one was denied

No need of moon or stars by night

Or sun to shine by day

It was the new Jerusalem

That would not pass away

"Jerusalem! Jerusalem

Sing for the night is o'er

Hosanna in the highest

Hosanna for evermore!

The lyrics alone cannot convey the majesty and power of this song. Suffice it to say I was moved to tears at hearing it once more after all these years. As with Advent itself, it took me back and pointed me forward at the same time. The older I get, the more poignant I find death to be. I grew up in a middle-class suburban household. Most such people in our country don’t have to think deeply about such matters, but each year brings me closer to the finish line, and melodies and lyrics like this bring into focus the significance of our faith. 

People are once more trembling before the threat of another round of covid, of inflation and supply chain issues. The media is stoking the flames of fear, but I stand tonight with St. Paul who said, “For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” I’m in no hurry to get to the end, but I’m also in no fear of it, for as the song says, “All who would light enter, and no one was denied.” One day, I will. Until then, each day is a gift treasured, for which I give thanks tonight.

Success and Failure

November 27, 2021  

If you want to know a man’s character, don’t look only at how he handles failure; see how he handles success. Success can take you places you’ve never gone before, but those places aren’t always good. The Bible is filled with stories of people who began well, but finished poorly.   Uzziah, mentioned in the book of Isaiah, was sixteen when he became king, and ruled for 52 years. He sought the LORD, did what was right, and was blessed with success: “As long as he sought the LORD, God made him prosper.” (2 Chron. 26:5) “But when he was strong, his heart was lifted up to his destruction.” (2 Chron. 26:15)  

St. Paul understood this temptation. He was plagued with some sort of weakness from which he begged God three different times to be free. God’s answer? “My grace is sufficient for thee; my strength is made perfect in weakness.” (1Corinthians 12:9) Notice that God didn’t promise to make Paul stronger, but to use his weakness. Had Paul been delivered from his “thorn in the flesh,” it is quite possible God wouldn’t have been able to use him so powerfully as he did.  

It’s not my failures that worry me; it’s the successes. My head is too easily turned, my heart too easily swayed. Great success could very easily do what failure was unable to accomplish, by causing me to lose my grip on grace and trust in my own ability. The day that happens—the day my heart is lifted up, I will be well along the road to destruction. May God pardon my failures and preserve me from my successes. God

Fearing God

 November 26, 2021

“The LORD takes pleasure in those who fear him, in those who hope in his mercy.” —Psalm 147:11

When I was a young man sitting before the Board of Ordained Ministry, a question arose about something I had written in the required theological papers. Having spoken about fearing God, one of the examiners interpreted my words by saying, “I think what Jim means is having respect for God.” 

I strenuously objected. “That’s not what I meant! When I talk about fearing God, I’m speaking of a shaking in your boots terror!” The glances around the room made me wonder if I would be approved. I was, but I’m not sure I was ever fully trusted after that.

I’ve had only one or two such experiences, but they were enough to not want more. I understand Peter’s heart when after a record catch of fish he said, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man!” He understood he was in the presence of someone dangerous. We’ve gentrified Jesus till he is like a fishing buddy instead of Lord of Lords and King of Kings.

The psalmist understands the fear of the Lord as the Bible presents it, not as we want it to be. Not content to let us invent our own definitions, he spells it out for us in the second phrase of this verse. Today, we would put an “i.e.” in between the two phrases. Fearing the LORD means hoping for mercy, knowing that it is not deserved, but completely necessary when unrighteous as we are, we stand before a holy God.

Fearing God isn’t about obeying him, although that may be one consequence of it. Our obedience is spotty at best, and if God’s pleasure in us is dependent upon it, we are in deep weeds. Fearing God means we know we deserve his wrath, and cast ourselves upon his mercy, which is our only hope. The Good News is that his pleasure in us is not predicated on the consistency of our obedience, but in the certainty of his mercy, poured out for us on the Cross of Jesus Christ, who died so we might live. For that mercy, I give thanks tonight.

Troublesome Hope

 November 26, 2021

St. Paul’s letter to the Roman Christians is considered by scholars to be his magnum opus, his definitive explanation of the faith he preached. Not having visited this church, he wrote this letter by way of introduction. Though he had not met them, he was certainly known by them, but reputation has its drawbacks. He was no stranger to slander and misrepresentation, so this letter is his way of setting down clearly who he was and what was his message.

Having laid the foundation of the reality and devastation caused by human sinfulness, he moves to the solution found in the death of Jesus Christ and our faith in him which puts us in right relationship with God. The fifth chapter of his letter begins,

“Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.” —Romans 5:1-5 

His words are pretty straightforward, but can sound pretty foreign to our Western ears. Verse 3 has us glorying in tribulations; words that sound rather masochistic to us. Why would anyone do such a thing unless he or she were a few fries short of a Happy Meal? Paul doesn’t do hit and run, throwing out a provocative statement without any explanation. He continues by telling us God’s purpose in our troubles. 

Some gifts God can just lay on us in grace and mercy, but others require a process. Endurance is one of those process gifts. Excellence in any field requires dedication and endurance through long hours of hard work. We only endure if there is some problem we need to endure through. Perseverence/endurance then produces a certain character: strength, determination, the ability to fight through discouragement and defeat.

But how does character produce hope? Most of us have been through some pretty hopeless situations, and not all of them resulted in a miraculous turnaround. Our prayers have been unanswered, our loved one died, we lost the job, the wayward child has yet to come home. We’ve endured, and perhaps developed a strength of character we didn’t know we could have, but how does that give us hope?

I am not even close to being the final authority on these matters, but I do believe that once you’ve been through tribulation and endured it, you don’t look to this world to give you hope. COVID has taught us how fleeting such hope can be. Character means not being tied to the whims of the world or of self. Character looks beyond the immediacy of feelings, having lost faith in it’s ability to sustain us. I find nothing in this world that I can see that will give me eternal hope. I’ve lost my naivete and know that even the best of this world can evaporate overnight. The only thing that doesn’t disappoint us is “the love of God [which] has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.” That love is the source of my hope.

The Countdown

 November 24, 2021

The Baileys aren’t known for their liturgical correctness. Leading up to Christmas, we observe Advent, but the Christmas season begins for us on Thanksgiving Eve at our daughter’s home. After an outstanding meal of chicken cordon bleu, we clear the table and spread out our Thankful Tablecloth where each one writes at least one thing for which they are grateful in the past year. Since 2003 we’ve archived our family history on that piece of linen, sometimes through tears, often in laughter, always in joy and humble gratitude. It has gotten so crowded that last year we had to sew an additional piece to it. 

In 2007, son Matthew traced the newest addition to their family on the tablecloth. The cousins persuaded “little” Nathan to stretch out and get traced again, much to their delight. 

Following the Tablecloth ritual, everyone retreats to the living room to watch a certain scene from the 1983 movie “A Christmas Story,” after which the crate is ceremonially brought in and son in law Todd recreates the father, opening the crate, throwing excelsior around the room and retrieving the Leg Lamp. The very first time this was done, grandson Ian was only about five or six, and instinctively stroked the fishnet stocking, just like in the movie. Of course, he had to do it again as we all trooped out to the front lawn, Ooing and Ahhing, and reciting the appropriate lines:

“What is it?”

“It’s a major award!”

On it goes. For the Baileys and Andersen’s, the Christmas season has arrived. We have blessed one another with good food, laughter and prayers, and it is time to go home where Linda and I again count our blessings, grateful having received so much as to be able to be on the giving side of life.