JourneyNotes

Nearer

2012-01-28T23:55:00.004-05:00

Retirement has taken me out of the rather sterile environment of the office to the dirt of the earth. Perhaps, the movement from one to the other made Barbara Brown Taylor's words all the more powerful. In her book, "An Altar in the World," she wrote, "Keeping the earth is hard work. You get dirty doing it...You also remember where you came from, and why. You touch the stuff your bones are made of. You handle the decomposed bodies of trees, leaves, birds, and fallen stars. Your body recognizes its kin. If you have nerve enough, you also foresee your own decomposition. This is not bad knowledge to have. It is the kind that puts other kinds in perspective. Feel that cool dampness? Welcome back to earth, you earthling. Smell the dirt? Welcome home, you beloved dust-creature of God."

As I knelt down on the earth to pick up a now fallen limb that had been hanging suspended in decay for more than one season and as I rolled it over to get a better hold, I felt the decayed underside and saw the multitude of ants which were hurrying its disappearance from the earth. Suddenly, I was aware of the holy being in my hands. Taylor's words about the earth rushed over me like holy wind and I found myself kneeling there in a moment of divine awareness.

The voice of the Almighty often seems to come in strange and unexpected moments. As I watched the sight there before my eyes, from my inner being came words I have said before others more times than I could possibly count. "Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return." Could it be that Ash Wednesday and the return of which it speaks is indeed so near?

Prayer at the Dump

2012-01-25T02:50:00.004-05:00

As I was unloading a trailer filled with limbs that had fallen over several weeks and household garbage that had accumulated over a few days, I listened to the voice coming from the caretaker's shack some hundred feet away. (Read previous blog for more context.) Out of the African-American tradition, the man who worked there was singing, verse after verse of the song, "I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine..." I was so surprised and blessed, I just worked all the more slowly so there would be more to listen.

Finally, he finished. Then there was a silence interrupted only by the sound of limbs crashing against the open mouth of the dumpster. After no more than a minute or two, the voice started up again, reverberating loudly across the dump. "O Lord, I just want to be closer to You. Oh, Lord, You know I desire You with my whole heart. O Lord, make me a man with a pure heart..." I stood there still as I listened to what I knew was the prayer of the man who had only moments earlier been blessing me with his singing.

His praying was so loud, it was impossible not to hear. As I listened, I started breathing whispered prayers of my own. There in that place filled with the waste and trash of the world, a man was worshipping God as if he was in the most ornately kept sanctuary, and I, the passerby was caught up in that wonderful moment of transcendent presence and blessed.

Concert at the Dump

2012-01-24T21:26:00.005-05:00

One of the things different about living on a farm in the country is the way trash is handled. Instead of a weekly curbside pick-up enjoyed by those in subdivisions in urban areas, there is a weekly trip to the nearby trash and recycling center. There we unload our household garbage and yard debris into huge dumpsters which are carried to the county landfill when overflowing. We call the trash and recycling center "The Dump."

Today as I pulled up between two dumpsters, I turned off the ignition and heard someone singing. Curious, I sat still and listened. Someone with a strong voice was singing in the African American tradition the chorus, "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine." I listened as he sang, "In my home, I'm gonna let it shine..." and, "In all the world, I'm gonna let it shine..." I sat mesmerized at the voice from the little shack some hundred feet away.

Finally, I slipped out of the truck and unloaded the trailer, working slowly as I listened. Since I am a regular, I stopped by the caretaker's shack before leaving to speak to the man with the voice and the ministry. After a round of cordial greetings, I asked, "Was that you singing, or was it the radio?" I think his cheeks reddened a bit and with a sheepish look, he responded by saying, "Yes, that was me. I'm here twelve hours a day so I bring my Bible and I read and sing and pray a lot." When he finished his word of witness, I just stood there in amazement. And then, as I was leaving, I told him what I had really stopped to say, "Thanks for the blessing." I never would have thought God was going to bring such a blessing at "The Dump."

Swainsboro

2012-01-13T13:37:00.005-05:00

There was nothing particularly eye catching about the church message board. It stood out there next to the road like most of them do. There was a place for the name of the church and more space for a message board. The truth is most church signs are poorly used. They are either filled with an announcement of a scheduled meeting which may be of interest to the congregation, but not really of much use to the world passing by. Or, they utilize some tricky sounding words that stay out there so long the passersbys cease looking because they have already read the words a hundred times. No need to look that way again as the sign is the same as last week and the week before.

This particular sign, seen on a recent trip; however, was different. By itself the message was rather commonplace and mundane. It is one seen on a hundred other signs on any given day. But, still it was different. What made it different was the context. What made it so powerful was what was behind it. What was behind it was nothing, but a cleared field. What used to be there behind the sign was a building everyone identified as the Calvary United Methodist Church. A midnight arsonist changed all that a few months ago. Everything is gone on the property now except for this sign which says to its community, "Give thanks for all your blessings."

In one of the earliest stories in Scripture we learn that God uses for good what someone else intended for evil. First told in Genesis as a a part of the Joseph story, it is a story that has been retold more times than can ever be known. The church sign appears to say that the folks at the Calvary Church have embraced this truth. The building may be gone, but the community of believers is still speaking a powerful word every day to those who pass by and see the emptiness of the property. What someone intended for evil, God is no doubt using for good. It is good to know God is still doing what He did long ago with Joseph. He is doing it for the folks at the Calvary Church in Swainsboro and He is doing it for you and me as well.

Looking Back

2011-12-31T21:24:00.005-05:00

If the years go by any faster, as some folks even older than I am say they do, I will surely start having dizzy spells. What used to crawl along like a turtle never destined to arrive anywhere now moves with such speed that it seems that life is suspended from a zip line. However, every now and then, a date comes along which slows things down just a bit and there is an opportunity to stand still for just a span of a second between here and there. Such is the blessing of this day, December 31, 2011. A year is soon to end and another reving up to start, but first there is this moment.

I remember a guy somewhere along the way who when asked, "How are you?" he would always reply, "Better than I deserve." Such is how life has been. To look back is to be thankful to God for a life that is good. Family, friends, a place to live, good health, too much to eat, and never being bored with a day of retirement are certainly a few of the good things God has graciously put in my life. And in this last year, He has also put still another sacred place to serve and to preach.

There was a time at one of my appointments when I spent some time fussing at God in my prayers about where I had been sent by the Bishop. Like those ancient Hebrews who learned the art of whining and complaining, I remember telling God, "I deserve a better place than this." And as I was going on telling Him where I should have been, that Voice I have learned to recognize said, "You don't deserve any place." Once again, He was right. No matter where I was sent to serve and to preach, it was better than I deserved.

The Community of the Broken

2011-12-29T01:04:00.004-05:00

Watching him leave causes me to think of the church more as "The Community of the Broken" instead of "The Community of Believers." It has always grieved me to see folks leaving because the brokenness becomes unbearable. It still does. I remember two men who almost came to blows at a church softball league game and they were on the same team. They both stayed, but it always seemed strained between them. And two others at a different place exchanged such sharp words that each one made sure the other was not in the same group going to the Table for communion. Sounds strange, but sadly, true. Of course, most folks don't stay. They leave and carry their unresolved stuff and broken hearts to another place.

To watch still another one go because of the brokenness brings its own dark cloud of helplessness. We naturally want to separate ourselves from the brokenness around us, particularly, when it makes itself known in a place where community is supposed to be modeled. The church is a spiritual community with Christ as its head, but the church some seek is, unfortunately, the church of heaven, not the church of earth. The church of earth is as flawed as I am. Maybe, even as flawed as you are. Put us all together with all our brokenness and only the grace of God enables us to catch glimpses of the kingdom being worked out on earth.

I find myself thinking about C.S. Lewis', Screwtape Letters. In that small volume Lewis enables us to see that the sacred space we call the church is a battleground where evil constantly seeks to gain a foothold in the human heart. Maybe there really is a reason to pray that line of the Jabez prayer which says, "Keep evil away." Or, maybe Jesus had it right when He taught us to pray, saying, "Deliver us from evil."

Advent XXVIII

2011-12-22T01:57:00.005-05:00

It has finally arrived. The last day of the Advent season has come and with it, Christmas Eve. Tonight's worship will take us to the manger where we shall behold the holy scene which fills us with such awe and wonder. At last we shall have a glorious moment of being so immersed and overwhelmed by the music that it will seem we are in some faraway field where the angel of the Lord announced the heavenly news of a Savior being born in Bethlehem. We will hear that ancient exciting story read from Luke's gospel, but only after we have also heard the dreadful somber word of Genesis 3 telling us we are sinners.

On a glorious night such as Christmas Eve, it has always seemed out of place to be reading about Adam and Eve and their awful choice. Yet, the two readings are so connected and so important for our ears and hearts to hear. Celebrating the birth of a Savior is impossible unless we understand we are sinners. If we are not sinners, there is nothing to celebrate except the memory of a wise spiritual leader. But, the truth is we, like that Garden of Eden couple, have made wrong choices which have separated us from any possibility of being in the presence of a holy God. We are sinners and we would be hopelessly undone were it not for this child about whom the angel said, "...to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior." (Luke 2:11)

I saw a guy on a street corner today holding a large cross as a silent witness to those of us who hurriedly passed by on our last minute shopping spree. In bold white letters he had written on the crossbeam, "Trust Jesus." My first thought about this John the Baptist kinda guy was that he had the wrong symbol, but then there is no need to worship the child in the wooden trough if we do not realize He was born to die on a wooden cross for each one of us. Only as we see it all can we kneel in Bethlehem with the awe and wonder of those ancient shepherds.

Advent XXVII

2011-12-21T01:02:00.005-05:00

It is almost time for the visitors to show up in the story. Luke tells us about shepherds visiting Jesus shortly after His birth and Matthew reports the somewhat later arrival of Wise Men from the East. John mentions neither in his nine word nativity announcement, "And the Word became flesh and lived among us." (John 1:14) Mark says nothing about any of it, figuring that everyone knew what happened. But, still those shepherds and Wise Men are about to make their annual trek to Bethlehem. And even though Bible accuracy would never permit them to stand alongside of each other in any nativity scene, their absence would somehow tarnish a tradition that was long ago poured in cement, accurate or not!

Even though they likely appeared in Bethlehem at different times, the smelly shepherds and the regal Wise Men both belong there with the newborn Son of God. When Joseph heard the angel in the dream saying, "...you are to name Him Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins," he would have naturally assumed that "His people" were Jews and only Jews. His culture would have allowed no other explanation. Yet, from the beginning it is clear that the lowest rungs of society (shepherds) and non-Jewish people (wise men from the east) would be welcomed and included in the saving ministry of Jesus.

There is more good news from Bethlehem than can be absorbed in a lifetime of remembering the story. But, certainly, one thing not to be missed is the birth announcement which says that all are welcome. Social and economic status as well as other discriminating markers are not to counted as factors to keep folks away. There is room for everyone of us at Bethlehem and Golgotha.

Advent XXVI

2011-12-18T18:57:00.005-05:00

'Tis the season to think, to reflect, to meditate on Emmanuel. Matthew's gospel lifts up the name and makes us understand that the meaning of the word is "God with us." Sometimes we are tempted to wonder if it is true. When life seems to be crumbling into broken pieces around us, it is easy to start thinking that God is not actually as present as the Christmas story would indicate. And sometimes, even in those difficult moments when we question His presence, honesty requires us to wonder if somehow we missed Him along the way.

I remember one particular morning when I was serving the Perry Church. It was a morning filled with discouragement. I went to the office that day sure that God was nowhere in the picture. I hardly noticed the people in the office since I was walking in this dark cloud. However, one five year old called my name, ran toward me with outstretched arms so I, black cloud and all, knelt on one knee to receive her hug. Later in the morning on the way to the hospital in Macon I was fussing at God, complaining, telling Him how little He cared. It was there in the car south of Macon that God spoke with such clarity that I knew it was His voice. Do you know what He said?

He said, "I gave you a hug this morning." And, I missed it. I thought it was just a hug from a child.

Is that not how it is with us many times? We wallow in our cloud of discouragement and walk in our situations of impossible circumstances without seeing how God is leading us along and sometimes, even giving us hugs along the way.

Advent XXV

2011-12-17T18:51:00.003-05:00

One of the songs of the Advent season is "Emmanuel, Emmanuel." It is an easy to sing chorus with a powerful message. For years I have made a practice of including this song in the order of worship to be used each of the four Sundays in Advent. If someone does not know it, my hope is that it might get rooted in their heart before the season ends. The words of the song are: "Emmanuel, Emmanuel, his name is called Emmanuel. God with us, revealed in us, his name is called Emmanuel."

The "God with us" name first appears in Isaiah 7:14. The gospel writer, Matthew, goes back to that verse and offers the interpretation for his rendering of the Christmas story. There are many names which can be given to the One born long ago in Bethlehem. In Isaiah 9 he is referred to as "Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." In other places we hear titles such as "The Good Shepherd, Light of the World, Lord, and Savior. " Still, the name Emmanuel carries with it an important, powerful, and much needed word for our day. "God with us." Jesus is the One whose birth and life announces, "God with us."

Certainly, this is a good word for our day. Despite all the talk of social networking, so many experience such loneliness. It has often been said that the loneliest place in the world is a crowd and many are discovering that their retreat to the Internet puts them in a similar place. The good news is that we are never alone. Even those who refuse to acknowledge the divine presence in the world live in the world He has created and in that world not a single one of us lives outside the love and grace of the God who sent His son to Bethlehem to let us know "God with us." Always.

Advent XXIV

2011-12-17T13:23:00.003-05:00

While Matthew does not actually say it was Gabriel, surely he must have been the unnamed angel who showed up in Joseph's dream life. Obviously, he was an angel on a mission. First, he appeared to Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist telling him that not even old age would keep him and his wife, Elizabeth, from having a son. And then he shows up a few months later in Nazareth to tell the virgin Mary that she will bear a son conceived by the Holy Spirit. As an angel on the prowl, it only makes sense to figure he is the one who said the convincing word to Joseph as he was trying to sort out the unbelievable news about Mary's pregnancy.

What the angel did was to challenge Joseph to make the harder choice. The easy choice would have been separating himself from Mary. The easy choice would have been allowing his ego to dictate his actions. The easy choice would have been choosing a way other than the way God had chosen for him. The angel said, "...take Mary as your wife..." (Matthew 1:20), but it would have been easier to simply walk away from her.

If we allow the scenario to be a model for us,we have no choice but to understand that God often challenges us to lay aside the easy way for the hard way. Walking by the guy in need of a hand-out is easier than offering a helping hand. Forgetting spiritual disciplines is easier than practicing them. Harboring ill will is easier than forgiving. Had Joseph said, "No," instead of "Yes," his story would have been radically different. Such is true for us as well.

Advent XXIII

2011-12-17T09:07:00.002-05:00

When the angel Gabriel told Mary the extraordinary news about her part in the birth of Jesus, it must have seemed to him like "Same song, same verse." Her response was, "How can this be since I am a virgin?" (Luke 1:34) Only six months earlier he had heard about the same words from Zechariah who was told that his past-the-child-bearing-age wife was going to give birth to a son. When told the unbelievable news, Zechariah had said, "How will I know this is so? For I am an old man and my wife is getting on in years." (Luke 1:18)

The Christmas season has a way of causing us to believe that impossible sounding things are possible. Too many times we want to define what God can do by insisting that His activity be inside the boundaries established by such words as logical, practical, and common sense. We are more comfortable with a God who works within the perimeters we have established as acceptable. Of course, such a God is also one we can control.

Have you ever wondered what might happen if we actually asked God to work in those areas of our life that we have put aside as impossible? Most of us have prayed about certain needs only to come to a place of giving up, deciding that God is either not listening, or not going to act. Maybe the remaining days of Advent would be an opportune time for holding up before God some of our impossible stuff. Do so in faith, remembering how Gabriel said to Mary, "For nothing will be impossible with God." (Luke 1:37)

Advent XXII

2011-12-17T08:50:00.004-05:00

Finally, he is gone. Most of us are glad. John the Baptist does not make a good first impression with all that talk about something being so wrong with us that only radical change will make any difference. And if we do keep him around awhile, we find ourselves growing weary of the smell of locust on his breath and the look of his beard matted with honey. For two Sundays now the writers of the lectionary have imposed his unwanted presence upon us, but enough is enough.

This fourth and last Sunday of the Advent season brings new characters into view. They are the ones we have been anticipating. At last we see Mary as she struggles with the good news, Joseph as he wrestles with his ego, Zachariah and Elizabeth as they deal with a surprising unplanned pregnancy, and the angel Gabriel flitting about on one mission and then another. It all gives to us the assurance that the Star will soon be seen over Bethlehem and that Shepherds and Wise Men will soon begin their journeys. This Sunday marks entrance into exciting time. It has been worth the wait.

So, use these days to bask in the glory of the story. This story of Jesus being born among us is truly a great story, full of human struggle and divine intervention. It is a story worth reading not once, but several times. Read it again...and again. Each day read it. Read it slowly. Read it aloud to slow yourself down. Let is soak into your soul again so that the much anticipated worship an celebration of this next weekend will indeed be like gushing streams of water in a hot and dry desert.

Advent XXI

2011-12-13T23:19:00.003-05:00

Even though set in the midst of the story which takes us to Bethlehem, the birth of John the Baptist has its own drama. If you could ignore the content and just count the verses pertaining to John and the verses pertaining to Jesus in the first chapter of Luke, the first time reader might wonder about the main character of the story. One of the places where the John drama reaches it high point is in the 76th verse of that first chapter of Luke. Filled with the Spirit and speaking prophetically, Zechariah, the father of John, speaks of his first born, "And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare His ways, to give knowledge of salvation to His people..." It is clear from the story that this father knew his son belonged to the Lord.

Over the years I have watched other fathers and mothers as they gave their children to the Lord. Such is the essence of what we are doing as we bring them up in a world where faith in Christ is supremely important. Sometimes those children end up taking that faith so seriously that it puts them in some kind of full time ministry as adults. I have watched more than one set of parents immersing their sons and daughters in such a life of faith within the church and wondered if they realized they were not rearing children to be like other children. Instead of becoming community power brokers, their children were more likely to become Christ's servants. Not every Mom and Dad really wants their child to wear the mantle of a servant instead of the prestige of the professional money maker in the community.

Zechariah knew his son. He knew His God. He knew the two would be inseparable and he became a partner in what God wanted to do in the life of one he so longed to have in his own life. Turning loose of those we love the most is a hard thing to do. Ask any parent. Ask the Father who watched His Son be born midst the smell of an animal's stall.

Advent XX

2011-12-13T00:12:00.002-05:00

The guide to daily Advent scripture readings I am using includes not only gospel and epistle readings, but readings from the prophets and the Psalms. It has been interesting to read passages I would not normally read during the Advent season. One of those passages is Psalms 146:5-10. Listen to some of the words in this passage. "One generation shall laud your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts. On the glorious splendor of your majesty and on your wondrous works, I will meditate. The might of your awesome deeds shall be proclaimed..."

Like the ancient Hebrew who told of the mighty acts of God by telling the stories of how He interacted with His people, so do we. Especially during these days do we find ourselves remembering and reading and telling the story of the Bethlehem event. It is a story we have heard from the generations before us and we have already been a part of those believers who make sure it is passed on to the generations which follow us. It is a story stored in our hearts and in only a few days, we will hear it sounded once again in the air around us.

One of the reasons I look forward to the Christmas worship each year is the opportunity to read the story again. Last year I could only read it to myself. This year I once again have a people who will gather with me to hear it read one more time. I can almost hear it in the air, "In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus...(Luke 2:1) Almost,...almost,...but, not yet.

Advent XIX

2011-12-12T23:49:00.006-05:00

We sometimes forget he said it, but Jesus remembered. Not only did he remember, but He remembered it in the presence of His disciples during their last moments together before He ascended into heaven. Interesting. The words of John the Baptist from the Jordan River launch the public ministry of Jesus and shortly before He disappears into the clouds, He brings John the Baptist back on center stage one more time.

What we often forget was not only remembered by Jesus, but by each one of the gospel writers (even John). As each of them tell the story of John's ministry at the Jordan River, they remember John saying, "I baptize you with water...He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire." (Luke 3:16) One of the daily readings for the third week in Advent opens the Scripture to the first chapter of the book of Acts. In that section of the Word, we hear the about-to-ascend-into-heaven Jesus saying, "This is what you have heard from me; for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now." (Acts 1:5)

To be honest, I was caught by surprise. I had not expected an Advent reading that would take me to the image of disciples being baptized by the Holy Spirit. Nonetheless, there it is. I suppose it is a reminder that if Mary could be overwhelmed by the Holy Spirit for divine purposes, it should not surprise us that God would desire to do the same for us. Could it possibly be that the preparation of Advent is making our hearts a desirable place for the Spirit to be at work? Come, Holy Spirit, come.

Advent XVIII

2011-12-11T20:30:00.003-05:00

If John the Baptist is the one who keeps saying to us, "Get ready," it only makes sense to wonder what we should be doing. As Luke tells the story, it was a question asked when John was walking around preaching, "Prepare the way of the Lord, make his path straight." (Luke 3:4). After listening to the Baptizer there were those who started asking, "What then should we do?" (Luke 3:10-14).

"What should we do?" is not a bad question. Actually, if we are serious about making our hearts ready for the Christ-event, it is a question that makes sense. When asked, John's answers seem rather surprising. Something which really smacked of being super spiritual would be the expected response; however, the Baptizer takes us in exactly the opposite direction with his mundane and common sense answers. To one who asked, John said, "Give some of what you have to those who have nothing." To another, he said, "Be sure to do what is right." And to those who had some power over others, he said, "Treat others with respect."

Wow! What should we do? Maybe reading the Bible all day is not the answer. Maybe writing a daily Advent reflection for a blog is not the answer. Maybe it does not even have anything to do with attending all those special worship services which fill the church calendar during December. Maybe it is just about doing the right thing and living in the right way with those around us. Who would have thought it?

Advent XVII

2011-12-09T23:12:00.004-05:00

The 9th chapter of Isaiah is remembered because it has within words that have been sung more times than anyone could ever count. We have all heard choirs singing, "Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace..." Reading the words causes us to hear that magnificent chorus in our hearts. But, this particular chapter of Isaiah is about more than just music during the Christmas season. It is about hope.

The Hebrew people were in exile in Babylon. The sun still rose over them each day, but the land in which they dwelled was a strange land filled with strange words and strange people. Jerusalem was home and it was far away. No one really had any expectation of seeing the land of Abraham again. In this setting Isaiah speaks for God, "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness--on them has light shined...For a child has been for us, a son given to us." (Isaiah 9:2, 6) It is the language of hope. Light has penetrated the darkness. A child has been born. Something new is beginning to happen. Look and see.

It is a message every generation longs to hear. Common to every generation of people are those experiences which seem to overcome optimism and take away hope. Those moments come in a host of different ways. We are all touched by them. We have all been ready to succumb to the darkness. Isaiah's words remind us that darkness is not permanent. Not even the deep darkness imposed upon us by our own wrong choices can stand against the light of God's grace and mercy made known to us through the Christ who was born in our midst. Thanks be to God for the hope He has planted in our hearts.

Advent XVI

2011-12-09T13:41:00.002-05:00

The image put forth by the Baptizer in John's gospel is one which overshadows the trivial things which most often captivate our attention in these day of December. When John speaks of Jesus as "the Lamb of God," our thoughts immediately go to a deeper place than the secular voices take us. Even before we see baby Jesus in the manger surrounded by the adoring nativity crowd, we are caused to see Him as One who has come to die. However, his death is not a normal death, but one which has life giving power for each one of us who in faith says, "Yes" to what He has done for us.

To meditate on "the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world," (John 1:29) brings to mind an older contemporary song and a piece of ancient liturgy. The song which just keeps going over and over in my mind is the one which says, "Behold the Lamb, Behold the Lamb, Slain from the foundations of the world, for sinners crucified, oh, holy sacrifice, Behold the Lamb of God, Behold the Lamb." It is a simple song, but it contains a world of truth. And, then, the piece of liturgy remembered comes from the ritual of Holy Communion. They are words repeated in such a way as to remind us of Simon Peter. As you read these words, allow yourself the freedom to say them aloud. "O Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us. O Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us. O Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world, grant us thy peace."

Whenever we truly allow ourselves to meditate on the image of the Lamb of God, we find ourselves in a place where confession, and adoration, and worship springs forth from our heart. It is a good place to enter into and stay during these days of Advent.

Advent XV

2011-12-09T13:23:00.002-05:00

While most folks would say one Sunday of John the Baptist is more than enough, for some reasons those who created the ordered scripture lesssons for the lectionary's Advent season decided the Baptizer should show up a second Sunday. So, still he prowls around spewing his message about repentance. However, this week he causes us to become even more focused on Jesus as he speaks of Him as "the Lamb of God." (John 1:29)

It is a word of identification that carries us back to the Old Testament. As we are called to behold the Lamb of God, our minds race back to the story of the scapegoat, the one who carrried the sins of the people out of the camp. We are reminded of the lamb slain in place of Isaac. But, surely, the story which most often comes to mind is the way the blood of the slain lamb provided a means of deliverance for the Hebrew people that last night they lived as slaves in Egypt.

Even before the ministry of Jesus begins, John the Baptist is speaking a word which identifies Jesus as the One who will be another sacrifice with saving power. However, this time it will be different. The writer of Hebrews speaks of the difference as he wrote, 'but when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, 'he sat down at the right hand of God.'" (Hebrews 10:12) Another sacrifice will not be needed. The sacrifice of the Lamb of God whom we know as Jesus was all that will ever be needed. The problem of human sin has been handled once and for all. John the Baptist points us not to the fragrant smell of fresh hay in a manger, but to the smell of divine death which provides for us what we can never provide for ourselves. Life.

Advent XIV

2011-12-08T01:36:00.004-05:00

Shadow dwellers. Some people are shadow dwellers. They do not live in the sun, nor do they seek such a place. They are content to serve in the shadows where there is little praise. And quite often, the shade in which they stand is caused by the person standing next to them. When we think of shadow dwellers, we think of Aaron who stood in the shadow of Moses. Sometimes they are spouses such as Sarah, the wife of Abraham, or Joseph, the husband of Mary. Of course, John the Baptist was a shadow dweller. This one who identified himself as a voice crying in the wilderness said, "The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."

The world around us is full of shadow dwellers. Sometimes we catch a glimpse of one, but most of the time they serve without being seen. Certainly, they serve without the applause and attention received by somone standing close by. Years ago while in Vidalia, I preached a revival in Wrens (about ninety minutes away). The plan was to drive back and to each day. Ike, a layperson at Vidalia said, " "I'll drive you each night so you will be fresher to preach," and he did. A shadow dweller. At Richmond Hill, John often sat out of sight on the steps leading to the chancel area and prayed for me while I was leading worship and preaching. He was another shadow dweller.

We do not always see them right away. But, then, such is the nature of serving God as a shadow dweller. One thing is certain. The ministry of those who stand in the spotlight is empowered by the shadow dwellers and always diminished when they are absent. If we look carefully, all of us are likely to see a shadow dweller standing alongside of us.

Advent XIII

2011-12-06T12:20:00.002-05:00

The Old Testament lectionary lessons for these days are so powerful, so rich, so full of images. While the gospel lessons have us focused in the present moment on John the Baptist, it is Isaiah 40:3 which lets know he is not an afterthought, but a part of the plan which God was working out through the generations of history. Looking back the gospel writers saw the divine connection between what God was doing in the prophet Isaiah's day and what He was doing in their own day. Reading passages like Isaiah 11:1-10, Isaiah 40:1-11, Isaiah 43:1-21, and Isaiah 62 can only enrich our lives and provide us assurance that God is, indeed, the One who is in charge.

Seeing the connection between what was and what happened only solidifies our understanding of the way God works in the same moments in our lives. Even as John the Baptist was no afterthought, but a planned part of the divine unfolding of history, so it is true that we, too, are created for purposeful living. Sometimes we are tempted to think that the unfolding of our own personal history is surely outside of the realm of divine concern, but the texts of these Advent days give us every reason to see and hope differently.

We are not alone. He has promised to be with us. The rivers of difficulty will not overwhelm us. He will bring us through. When there is no place to go and no one cares, He is our refuge and helper. When we need a Word to carry us forward, His speaking will somehow sound through the silence. When we read the Isaiah texts and let them soak into our soul, we begin to understand the way they relate to a specific moment in history and our own as well.

Advent XII

2011-12-06T00:14:00.002-05:00

Already I have noticed it. Both in the world and in the sanctuary. We are not even one week into December and the Christmas songs are filling the noisy space of department stores. And, from a smattering of received church bulletins, it seems the songs of Christmas made their way into the sanctuary this past Sunday. Songs like "Joy to the World," "Angels from the Realms of Glory," and "O Come, All Ye Faithful" are already being sung. In the early days of Advent, I have always enjoyed other songs. "Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus" and "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" are a couple of must sing hymns during these days. "Emmanuel, Emmanuel" is another one.

John the Baptist's message can loosely be translated to be: "Get ready. Something is about to happen, but it has not happened yet." Viewed in this way, it is the message that calls us to live in a state of anticipation. In our culture of having everything now, it is hard to get folks to buy into the benefits of delay for the purpose of anticipation. One way to move in that direction is to intentionally deny ourselves the music we might want to sing, or to withhold the Christmas hymns until Christmas. When "O Come, O Come All Ye Faithful" is withheld and sung for the first time on Christmas Eve, it becomes such a powerful experience of joy that it brings tears to the eyes and such a tightness to the throat that singing is for a moment impossible.

Such a discipline of withholding can enable us to get in touch with the spirit of Advent. Make no mistake. To do so is to live with tension. But, then, maybe part of the tension comes from the fact that we are aware that something is about to happen, but it has not yet happened."

Advent XI

2011-12-04T03:36:00.004-05:00

How it all got started and who was first is a matter of speculation, but what is certain is the fact that John the Baptist was baptizing folks at the Jordan River and crowds of folks showed up. He must have been a curiosity since few people would have been drawn out there to his place in the wilderness by the message he was preaching. Mark and other gospel writers say, "John the baptizer appeared (was baptizing) in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins." (Mark 1:4) What John was doing must have been of God for people are not normally attracted to someone preaching about repentance.

Repentance is no easy word. It is a word which speaks of a radical response. The meaning of repentance is not captured by wishing something had been done differently, or by merely expressing sorrow for some deed. To say,"I'm sorry," is a long way from what the Bible means as it talks about repentance. To repent involves turning completely from some act or action which is inconsistent with how Jesus taught us to live.

Our sinful actions and attitudes may be justifiable and defendable, but if they amount to something Jesus would not do were He present, then they represent something from which we are called to turn. Repentance means my unkindness is to be replaced with kindness; my judgmental spirit with mercy; my holding to a grudge with unconditional forgiveness. The work of repentance is hard work. Not everyone who gives lip service to it really wants to do it.

Advent X

2011-12-03T14:16:00.002-05:00

I was really introduced to John the Baptist some years ago by a preacher friend named Russ Elkins. He was a part of a preaching peer group with which I also claimed membership. Once a week we would gather, one of us would preach for the others, and then we would spend some time offering some friendly, but constructive suggestions. Of all the peer groups of which I have been a part over the years of ministry, this one is remembered as one the best. Prior to Russ' sermon dealing with the early Advent text about John the Baptist, I had read about him, but never really met him.

Russ introduced him to me as the kind of guy you would not want your daughter to bring home saying, "Daddy, this is the one." Matter of fact, as Russ portrayed the Baptizer, he would not be welcome in most of our churches. Dressed in camel hair clothing and with locust on his breath, smelling him would likely happen before seeing him. Of course, that voice which loudly sounded the message about repentance would like be a prelude to sight or smell.

As the one called to prepare the way for the coming of Jesus, he preached this message of repentance which at its core declared that something radical had to happen to assure readiness. In John's day, it was baptism. Jews were not baptized. They were already God's people. Only non-Jews who wished to become Jews were required to submit themselves to the water cleansing. So, when a Jew stepped into the Jordan, it represented a radical act. It makes us wonder a bit about our own preparation for the celebration of the coming of Jesus. Would it be characterized as mundane, or radical?

Advent IX

2011-12-01T23:50:00.002-05:00

Few of us who call ourselves preachers would choose to be identified as "the voice of one crying out in the wilderness." (Mark 1:3) Such may be descriptive of the preaching of John the Baptist, but we would rather he not be our model. As we read the gospel record about the Baptizer, we see him as a single solitary voice proclaiming a message no one really wants to hear. His preaching was so radical and different, there were no others who might be thought of as homilectical kinsmen.

Those of us who preach are often guilty of wanting our preaching efforts to be liked. The temptation is to choose being liked over preaching with such truth that it is painful and difficult to hear. When John preached his message of repentance that declared something wrong which needed straightening out, he was not concerned about the consequences. He even looked at the religious power brokers of his day and called them "a brood of vipers!" His preaching was offensive, or as we say in rural South Georgia, "It stepped on some toes!" It finally cost him his head.

Unlike John, we often search for another way. In our system, the church is our employer and not pleasing our employer can result in not being employed, or at the very least, working under difficult circumstances. It may be understandable why we might hear ourselves wondering how a part of a sermon might be too strong or offensive and then choosing not to preach it, but in these early days of Advent with John the Baptist prowling about, you cannot help but think about what he would say about us if we chose comfort over faithful forthrightness.

Advent VIII

2011-11-27T23:04:00.005-05:00

Perhaps, the first real surprise of Advent is John the Baptist. No one expects to see him striding into the sanctuary during this season of the year; yet, the traditional text for the second Sunday in Advent brings him into the spotlight and on center stage. What most folks are looking for is Jesus in the manger and to their surprise and dismay, in walks this obnoxious character to whom Mark introduces us in the first few verses of his gospel. And, let their be no mistake. John the Baptist is a character. He comes striding onto the stage of history wearing smelly clothing made of camel hide and with breath that reeks of locust and honey. When we get over the shock of his appearance, we are even more offended by his message. At a moment when folks are starting to say, "Merry Christmas," John is hollering, "Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is near." (Matthew 3:2)

The scripture identifies this messenger of repentance as the "the voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make His paths straight." (Mark 1:3) There is this fanatical and radical singularity about John the Baptist. Those first century folks saw it and, certainly, we do. Despite the current environment of a struggling economy, most people are more interested in hearing the many secular voices which promise that things will eventually get better than the one voice which tells us that something is so fundamentally wrong with each one of us that only radical change will save us.

What really makes John the Baptist so offensive is not his out-of-style attire or his bad breath, but the way he says that there is something wrong with each of us. Dealing with it is what is involved in getting ready for Christmas, not buying more gifts.

Advent VII

2011-11-26T00:59:00.004-05:00

"Ripley's Believe It or Not" is an amazing collection of things too bizarre and unusual to believe and accept as true. Yet, all those things recorded are included in the listing as something which is verifiably true even though "impossible" sounds like a better adjective. Those of us who read the Bible know about impossible sounding things. And, in that Word we are introduced to the author of impossible things. When Mary was told by the angel Gabriel that she would as a virgin bear a child, she was told by the angel, "For nothing will be impossible with God." (Luke 1:37)

Another place where we find ourselves in a Ripley moment comes in the first chapter of the book of Acts as men in white robes appear to the disciples while they are watching Jesus disappear in the clouds above them. Verse 11 of that chapter says, "Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven." Those angelic beings bring us headlong into a believe it or not moment.

It is not surprising that this part of the gospel story is viewed with such skepticism by the current followers of Jesus. Our culture demands that everything add up, make sense, and be logical. The message about the return of Jesus is not regarded as credible by many because of a world view which gives the individual permission to believe only those things which can be proven in the science lab or the school of hard knocks. But, these men in white robes do not seemed concerned with offering proof of what they were saying. The disciples who heard them could believe it or not. Such was their choice. And ours.

Advent VI

2011-11-26T00:15:00.003-05:00

Each year the clergy members of the Annual Conference gather to hear a report of the Conference Board of Ministry. It includes several listings which provide some order to what might otherwise be a rather confusing and careless look at the clergy membership available for appointment by the Bishop to the church. There is also that moment when the Bishop asks each of the District Superintendents to speak a word about the character of those clergy members of their respective districts. The usual response to the Bishop's historical question is some variation of "Bishop, the men and women under appointment in my District are blameless in life and faithful in service." Some may hear the exchange with a measure of smugness, but I suspect more cringe just a bit at being put in the category of blameless.

The Apostle Paul talked about followers of Jesus being blameless. In I Corinthians 1:8, he wrote, "...so that you may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ." And then over in I Thessalonians 3:13 he is back at it again as he wrote to the church, "And may He so strengthen your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ with all His saints." It must have been a source of great encouragement to those early Christians to know that someone like Paul was praying that they would be able to stand blameless before Jesus when He returned.

However, the truth of the matter is that none of us would dare have such a hope were it not for what has been done for us through Jesus on the cross. To be seen as blameless on that day will only mean that a great work of redemption has been completed for us, enabling us to know a forgiveness we would, otherwise, never know and a oneness with God that we always recognize as being undeserved. Thanks be to God for that grace and mercy which will cause Him to see us on that day as one of the blameless ones.

Advent V

2011-11-24T22:47:00.023-05:00

Advent calls us to the discipline of waiting with anticipation. But, it is not just about sitting somewhere with a passive mindset. The Apostle Paul makes it plain that we do not live passive spiritual lives. In the last three verses of the 13th chapter of Romans, he reminds us, "the night is far gone, the day is near." Of course, he is not talking about night turning into day as it does each morning. He is, instead, reminding us that the time for the Lord's return draws nearer with the passing of each day. Thus, as those who follow Jesus, we are the interim people. We are those who know without a doubt that His return is certain and, therefore, we wait with anticipation. How we should wait is very clear as we allow ourselves to read the Word in that section of scripture. Because "the night is far gone, the day is near," we are to "lay aside the works of darkness...to put on the armor of light...to live honorably as in the day." Instead of sitting on our hands, the Word calls us to embrace a positive, intentional, and faithful lifestyle which allows the fruit of the Spirit to be expressed through our living. Nothing passive is being communicated here. So, as we wait, we are to live in faithfulness to God which takes us back to the ninth and tenth verses of that same chapter. In those words we are reminded of commandments which keep us rightly related to those around us and then there is that final word of summation which says, "Love your neighbor as yourself." Surely, nothing would please God more than for us to use these days of Advent waiting as a time for doing the heart work reconciliation requires

Advent IV

2011-11-24T01:41:00.005-05:00

As I read the gospel lessons for the first Sunday in Advent, particularly Luke 21:25-36, a song more contemporary than traditional comes to mind. Since I prefer the traditional music, I am always a bit surprised that "We Shall Behold Him" begins to go around inside my head. Of course, it is verse 27 of the Lukan text which does it as it says, "Then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory." More than once have I gone to a Minister of Music and asked that someone sing this song on the first Sunday of Advent.

"We shall behold Him...face to face...in all of His glory..." Were it not for Advent, the theme sounded by the song and message proclaimed by the text would never be heard in the church. The one thing the church seeks to avoid in our day is to seem other worldly and to focus on the theme, "Christ is coming" appears to put the church in just such a place. But, then, maybe more than appearing other worldly is the fear of coming to terms with the fact of final accountability to the Christ who will come into our midst as Lord and King.

We live in a culture which judges people and places value on people according to what has been accumulated. We are so vested in this culture that it is truly frightening to find ourselves coming face to face with the reality that embracing such a value system turns our life into a wasted trip. When we behold Him, the things we hold in our hands will not be seen as having more value than the things of the heart. What a surprise awaits so many!

Advent III

2011-11-23T00:57:00.007-05:00

When the early church was in its infancy stage during those early years after Pentecost, its members lived with the expectation that Jesus would be returning any day. Certainly, He would be returning before those witnesses to His earthly presence had died. Some suggest this is the rationale for the "selling of possessions and goods and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need." (Acts 2:45) What became obvious to the early church was the fact that Jesus was not coming quite as soon as they had first expected.

However, such a realization did not change their confidence that what was delayed was still certain. Jesus would come. They became those who waited. When Paul wrote his first letter to the Corinthian Christians he acknowledged this as he wrote, "...you wait for the revealing of the Lord Jesus Christ. He will also strengthen you to the end, so that you may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ." (I Cor. 1:7b-8)

The church is still waiting. The delay has now stretched over a span of time those early believers would have found to inconceivable. As we wait, the temptation is to take for granted the coming of tomorrow. As Advent calls us to be ready, we are reminded the delay gives us time to ready ourselves by acts of compassion, by ministries of mercy, by embracing repentance, and by striving to be reconciled to those where relationships are broken.

Advent II

2011-11-23T00:34:00.005-05:00

After fourteen years of studying the Bible, William Miller became convinced that Christ would be returning to the earth on April 3, 1843. The Millerite Movement came into existence as a result of his ministry. As people bought into what he was preaching, they sold possessions which were not going to be needed. On the appointed day, groups put on white robes, climbed high places, and waited to see Jesus in the clouds. Others went to graveyards to ascend with departed loved ones. And, in Philadelphia, some society folks went out to the edge of town to avoid going with the common riff-raff of the city. Of course, nothing happened. William Miller did some more figuring, but after two more prophesied dates were set and passed, the Millerite Movement lost much of its momentum.

Miller had it right that Christ would return. The gospel writer Luke enables us to hear Jesus saying, "Then they will see the Son of Man, coming in a cloud with power and great glory." (Luke 21:27) Miller got that part right. What he missed was a Word of Jesus found in Mark. "But, about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father." (Mark 13:32) Miller's mistake was the mistake of human arrogance which causes us to think we can know what only God knows.

Of course, Miller was not the first, nor has he been the last to make such a monumental error. The scripture is clear that the "when" of the coming of Christ is unknown and can never be known by anyone of us. But, it does not change the reality that there will come a dawn unlike any others in that it will usher in the moment in history when the book will be closed on human history as we know it. In the meantime Advent calls us to live today as if the sun has dawned on the day of His coming.

Advent I

2011-11-22T21:20:00.005-05:00

It is always interesting that Advent begins with a focus on things yet to come instead of what has already happened. For those who have their eyes on Christmas, such is not the expectation. These Christmas watchers say that since Advent ushers in Christmas, the focus should be on the Christ who has come and not the Christ who is coming. As far as the world is concerned, things seem out of kilter when the church starts reading those gospel texts like Matthew 24:36-44 or Mark 13:32-37, or Luke 21:25-36.

Even though the message of those texts is not a Word secular society wants to hear, the Church continues to proclaim, "Christ is coming!" It is a futuristic reality. Only the day and the hour is uncertain. What is not uncertain is that the One who has come as a baby in Bethlehem will come again as King of Kings. When He came in Bethlehem, He came as the powerless one. No one is more powerless than an infant child. When He comes again, He will come as the One with all power. No one is more powerful than the resurrected Jesus.

The readings for these early Advent days call us to live in the present moment with the knowledge that He who has come is coming and it could be today. It goes without saying that constantly living with such an expectation will impact the living we do in the present moment as nothing else could ever do. It is no wonder the gospel writers tell us to "Stay awake," and to "Be ready." If it is true that He is coming, nothing else makes any sense.

Advent

2011-11-21T02:37:00.004-05:00

Advent is the church's answer to those who protest the commercialization of Christmas and are always saying, "Let's put Christ back into Christmas." When Advent is properly observed, it enables us to spiritually prepare ourselves to celebrate the Christ-event without getting caught up in what the secular community says must be done in order to get ready for December 25. However, the truth is the spiritual community is so tuned into the secular voices of the season that Advent becomes more like pre-Christmas hype than a time where things like anticipation and expectation are allowed to grow in our hearts.

Anyone who enjoys a good sunrise at the beach knows that the experience is about more than just seeing that big yellow ball pop up on the ocean. Sunrise watchers arrive early. Sometimes they sit in darkness. Always they watch and marvel at the way the promise of light is offered through the changing colors at the distant place where sky meets water. These early morning watchers are constantly thinking things like, "It won't be long now," or "It's coming!" The experience of waiting is so powerful that the moment of actual sunrise is almost anti-climatic.

When we do Advent right, it is much the same, but even more powerful than the experience of sunrise watchers. Advent watchers are a patient bunch. They look forward to the waiting and expectation. They understand and accept the tension created by those who cannot do Advent because they have to do the secular version of Christmas. They sit on the edge of their seats thinking, "It won't be long now. He's coming." They have learned that December is not so much about hurrying around filled with stress, but a time of quiet waiting which only fuels our hunger for Jesus.

Words for the Journey

2011-11-13T00:17:00.009-05:00

As one who has been preaching for a long time, I have learned that folks often grab a word or two, maybe a phrase, and occasionally, a thought to take with them out of the sanctuary. Usually, it was not what I thought was a great arrangement of words, but a simple thought that spoke to their circumstances. Such should not really be a surprise when I remember that my own spiritual journey has been influenced and shaped by simple words and thoughts heard along the way.

I remember Clark Pafford, who pastored the church where I did my first stint as a summer youth worker. Numerous times he told me, "The success of your ministry is determined by what happens when you leave." As I moved from one ministry place to another, I always found myself being reminded of his insight. He was also the man who told me, "Preach to empty pews before preaching to filled ones," a practice observed over a lifetime of preaching. And when Bishop Cannon came to Talbotton to preach, he did so for about forty-five minutes, but all I took away was the phrase, "Life is fragile." I have breathed and spoken those words more times than I can count. Finally, I remember Dr. Brokhoff, my preaching professor at Candler, who kept saying over and over, "Preach the text." When I failed in preaching by talking too much about what I thought, it was not because I had not been told what to do!

All of us carry simple thoughts and phrases with us that have had shaping power on our journey of faith. I wonder what you have heard. I wonder how your life has been shaped and directed. If you have a minute, click on comment, and share one of your "words for the journey."

Community

2011-11-01T22:43:00.004-04:00

In the early 90's while serving the Vidalia Church, I led my first Disciple group. With the exception of one or two years, I started a Disciple Bible Study group every September. Every time I finished one, it seemed like the best one. And when I did the last one at the Richmond Hill Church before retirement, I thought again, "This one is the very best one." In many ways, it really was an extraordinary experience with some disciples who God brought together for those nine months.

After that group was done, I wrote in the back of a devotional book some lessons I learned from those people and the community they, along with the Spirit, brought into being. I learned that when there is real community in the church 1) there is immersion in the Word; 2) people pray for each other, and 3) and believers are bound together by mutually agreed upon accountability. I learned from the faith journey of those folks that community is not forced, legislated, or structured by a planning committee, but something created when these elements are present.

For almost four decades I preached about it, planned for it, and bought into programs of the larger church which promised it. No matter what I did, creating community always seemed to be one of those much-sought-after goals that remained too elusive to capture. And, then they did it before my very eyes. Those folks God brought together for a holy experiment created community and lived it in a way that still leaves me wondering why I could not have understood sooner.

Oldie Goldie

2011-10-25T23:20:00.005-04:00

While I read contemporary authors, I must confess that I am partial to reading what might be considered the "oldie goldies" of spiritual writings. Or, maybe they should be called vintage writings. What I know is that I am drawn toward the writings and the stories of those who lived, worked, and wrote in other centuries. Spiritual giants like John Wesley, George Mueller, Hudson Taylor, Oswald Chambers, and E.M. Bounds seem to have so much to say to my spiritual journey. The fact that their writings are still read by today's believers speaks volumes about what they have written.

Another such writer is Andrew Murray. Murray's dates are 1828-1917. He pastored in South Africa and when he retired at age 78, he entered into an intense season of writing. A compilation of some of his writings is bound together under the title, Andrew Murray on Prayer. On one of the pages of this volume, he speaks of intercessory prayer in an unusual manner: "God regards intercession as the highest expression of His people's readiness to receive and to yield themselves wholly to the working of His almighty power." The common teachings about such prayer often take us in a different direction, one that centers more on getting God to do something we think He needs to do.

However, Murray takes us to a different place. Intercessory prayer is not really so high on the agenda listings of most churches. And aside from noting before God our listing of the sick, it is probably not so high on our personal spiritual agendas. Perhaps, Andrew Murray opens a new window for us to see the reason the church of our day so often muddles around in the mundane. Maybe we are not ready for anything more.

The Parking Lot Woman

2011-10-18T00:20:00.005-04:00

I watched her the other day at Lowes as she moved along in the line ahead of me. While there are not as many now as there used to be, she actually did look older than I am. White haired and a bit frail looking, she was pushing a cart with a couple big bags of garden soil. I wondered how she was going to get her purchase in the car, but lost track of the thought as the clerk started tallying my purchase. Actually, I figured one of the Lowes guys hanging out there in the garden shop would be helping her. When I pushed away from the counter, I looked up and saw her opening her trunk and no helper was in sight. I pushed my stuff to the side and without really thinking went out to where she was pondering what to do. "Let me help you," I offered. She seem happy to have the help and asked, "Do you work for Lowes?" Again, without really thinking about it, I quickly said a kind of out-of-character thing, "No, I work for the Lord." "Well," she said, "He is a good One to work for!"

He is and I do. Even though retirement has changed the way I work for Him, I realize that He has not thrown me away as having no value. Like everyone else who has professed faith in His Son and been touched by those holy waters, I remain on the list of those in active service. A lot of things may change in our lives as we move from one season to another, but God remains the same and He continues to work out His Kingdom plans through us.

Circumstances may change. The nature of the work may change. Our bodies may change. But, He remains the unchangeable One who looks at us and says, "That one is mine." As the woman in the parking lot said, "He is a good One to work for!"

Music Stand

2011-09-21T06:46:00.004-04:00

In the absence of our regular organist, she came to play the piano for us at morning worship. She has come before and when she does she never gets away without offering a solo as well. This past Sunday was no exception. Unable to find a second microphone, I have learned to take the pulpit mic and walk to the piano with the long chord trailing behind me. There is more than enough to reach. She plays the piano and sings. I stand beside her holding the microphone in front of her to sing. I am grateful my hand is still steady.

This past Sunday as I stood there trying not to call attention to myself, I was captivated by watching her hands move across the keyboard. Effortlessly they seem to move. Confidently they moved from one key to another. Guided not by eyes, but by years of training, they provided the music of ministry. As I watched these fingers moving, I thought of them belonging not to the musician, but to the student. Long years ago those hands moved tentatively and fearfully learning scales, chords, and the location of sounds. Then they were likely the hands of a child trying to please a music teacher or a parent.

Surely, she never thought back then that they would one day be used to please God. What a journey! Such is the place where I heard God speaking this past Sunday in worship. She provided the music and, I, the music stand. It is always good to have a part when God is at work.

Gnats

2011-08-11T16:36:00.007-04:00

I wonder what God had in mind when He created gnats. I know they were useful to God at one point in the Biblical story. The 8th chapter of Exodus tells us the third plague visited against Pharaoh and Egypt was gnats. It was the first plague the magicians of Egypt could not duplicate. The story tells us that Aaron struck the dust of the earth and the dust of the earth turned into gnats throughout the whole land of Egypt. Visioning gnats being like the dust of the earth is not hard for those of us live in "Gnat Country."

It would seem to me that after God used those gnats against Pharaoh, He could have just eliminated the whole swarm of them from the earth while He had so many together. From where I wave my arms in the air, it seems He missed a great opportunity. Of course, I only know of two kinds of gnats firsthand. One kind is called no-see-ums because you do not see them. You only feel them when they bite and then scratch for a month. The other kind which I deal with on a daily basis are the black gnats that swarm, cling, refuse to leave, and make clothing look like it is sprinkled with black pepper.

Even though I did a little online research about gnats, I still wonder what God had in mind when He created them. If anyone has had any experience with these small critters of creation and has an idea or two, I would love to hear it. Perhaps, it would make my waving and blowing a more tolerable moment.

The Dump

2011-08-04T23:30:00.004-04:00

As long as I can remember, there has always been a trash day when the sanitation trucks would pick up the household garbage from the curb. Now, there is no trash day. There are no sanitation trucks making weekly pick-ups. Instead, at least once a week, we take our trash to the nearby recycling center which is just a fancy name for a garbage dump. Four big bins are perched there to receive whatever it is that folks like us have to throw away.

Today as I was throwing a week's trash from the garbage cans on the trailer, a chair in the trash bin caught my attention. It was broken, worn out, and was in the right place, but it caused me to take a second look at the mound of garbage in front of me. What struck me was the number of plastic bags and cardboard boxes filled with throw away stuff. The news the previous evening showed cardboard boxes broken down and being used for walls, making a virtual cardboard community in Haiti. The same news interviewed a victim of East Africa's drought and famine in his refugee home made of plastic sacks.

In that moment at the dump, I did not see trash, but building materials for the world's poorest. We truly are a throw away society. What we throw away would be hoarded and used by the newest community of refugees. Our conversations about giving always seem to center on how much we give. It would be a far more enlightening and, perhaps, more productive conversation to center on how much we are keeping for ourselves. When we walk the road old Dives walked (Luke 16:19-31), we may not hear the question, "How much did you give?" but "How much did you keep for yourself?"

Broken Heart

2011-07-31T23:14:00.005-04:00

Watching the news reports and seeing the pictures is heartbreaking. When the faces of the soon-to-die are seen on the television, my first reaction is to change the channel. There is a part of me that does not want to watch. Yet, I know that removing the faces from the screen will not take away the images which have been placed in my mind and heart. I know of nothing to compare to the suffering and despair seen on the faces of these Somalian refugees who have fled from drought and oppression only to huddle with hopelessness in Kenya's overrun refugee camps.

Sometimes I think an even greater tragedy than their suffering is the indifference of so many to their plight. For days and weeks we have been possessed with watching politicians play their power games. We have breathed a collective sigh of relief that a professional football strike has been averted so that the millionaires can become multi millionaries and we can continue to be entertained on Sunday afternoons. The frontpage news is about such trivial stuff compared to the small columns on page four tellling about the life and death struggle going on in East Africa.

Jesus was a part of a refugee family. As an infant, he was taken from the land of his birth to Eqypt as they fled oppressive rule. As He sees the long line of refugees stretching across the dry earthen landscape, He surely remembers and suffers with them. If the heart of the Divine can be broken, such tragedies among the poorest must surely break His heart. And, if it is not broken by their suffering, most assuredly it is by the indifference of the affluent.

A Change in Scenery

2011-07-29T23:04:00.010-04:00

It is a devotional word which has been read for several years, but this year it seemed to linger around long after the pages had been turned to other readings. It is something attributed to Gandhi and it speaks of the sacred nature of common things.

If when we plunge our hand into a bowl of water, Or stir up the fire with the bellows Or tabulate interminable columns of figures on our book-keeping table, Or, burnt by the sun, we are plunged in the mud of rice-field, Or standing by the smelter's furnace we do not fulfill the same religious life as if in prayer in a monastery, the world will never be saved.

It brings to mind Brother Lawrence in his kitchen. But, it also serves to bring into focus the truth that if God is not experienced in the present moment midst the ordinary, it is doubtful we have truly encountered Him midst the sacred surroundings of sanctuary. It is never one or the other. Such we know in our head, yet, a change of context, or a change of scenery, can drive it home with such power that it truly sounds like a Word from the Spirit.

An Unusual Place

2011-07-04T23:15:00.008-04:00

As I stood in line, I saw it up ahead. It was a cross. Actually, it was a tattoo. Inked on her back just below the place where neck meets shoulders, it seemed like such an unlikely place to see a cross. It immediately made me think of Parker, one of Flannery O'Connor's characters in the short story, Parker's Back. I remembered why Parker had his tattoo of the head of Christ on his back. I wondered why this woman wanted a cross on her back. Was it a way to witness to those behind her? Was it her way of identifying herself as a cross bearing Christian, or was it a whim? Why would someone permanently put a cross on their body in a place which they could not see? I could have asked, but somehow, it did not seem like appropriate conversation with a total stranger.

So, I just wondered. Still do. And, I wonder, too, why we wear the cross in the way we do. While I never wore any "cross jewelry," many folks do. However, when I wear a clergy robe, I sometimes wear a stole adorned with a cross. As I reflect, I am made aware that we often wear the cross without really thinking about what it means and why we wear it. Like a cross necklace, maybe it was just about my "Sunday outfit." I know the cross is on the robe and on the stole, but I really do not give much thought to it.

O'Connor's character put the tattoo on his back because of a burning bush kind of experience. Maybe the woman had the cross inked on her back for the same reason. However, too many likely wear or see the cross without giving it any real thought. One thing is certain when we read the Scripture. God gave it a great deal of thought.

Tomorrow's Grace

2011-07-03T23:31:00.005-04:00

Devotional words sometimes last for longer than a single day. I find myself still reflecting over something Oswald Chambers wrote for the June 26 entry in My Utmost for His Highest. It is not a new idea. Neither did it represent some moment of epiphany. Instead, it is just a simple word which has stuck around long after the calendar took me to other readings. The devotional begins with the words, "The grace you had yesterday will not do for today. Grace is the overflowing favour of God; you can always reckon it is there to draw upon."

We are accustomed to such being true in our life. When we finish the day, we do not put water in jugs for tomorrow because we are sure it will be there tomorrow to draw upon. And besides its availability, strange things happen to water when it just sits around day after day. Neither is the grace of God something to be hoarded for tomorrow. There is no need. It will be there tomorrow.

What Chambers pushes us toward us is daily intimacy with God. Of course, God's grace is not dependent upon our response to Him, but we do know that without a daily walk with God we are likely to miss out on the blessings of grace being poured out in our lives. The Word keeps telling us over and over that we need not worry about having today what we need for tomorrow. Therefore, tomorrow's grace surely abounds for all of us who have hearts open to receive it.

Life Shaping Words

2011-07-01T23:28:00.007-04:00

I have remembered the words for over 45 years. I spoke them again last Sunday at a gathering at the Rocky Ford Church. Joe Bridges, a District Superintendent, said them while preaching a Quarterly Conference worship service at the Alamo Church. I was not quite 18 years of age. "If you see a need, know you can do something about that need, and do nothing, you may be neglecting the call of God on your life." By the time I got through processing those words on that particular evening, I knew I was hearing a call to preach. To be honest is to confess I did not like what I was sensing in my heart even though I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what I was hearing.

Most all of us can remember some life shaping words spoken over our life at some unexpected moment. They may not have sent us into the ministry, or to a mission field, but they, nonetheless, had shaping and defining power. Sometimes our life is shaped by our acceptance of the words and sometimes, it is shaped by our refusal to acknowledge that a word is indeed from God. When heard, these life shaping words can be a crossroad kind of moment where there are two roads to be taken.

I wonder what words you remember in such a way. What are the words which have had power over your past as it was being turned into your future? If remembering stirs some regret, it is good to know God may still be waiting with patience for us to acknowledge that He has spoken a Word over us which still requires some action of obedience.

An Invitation

2011-06-30T23:33:00.004-04:00

Long years ago a pastor friend moved from here to there. He went from a neighboring church in Columbus to one in Texas. From time to time we would connect, but, perhaps, there have been more connecting in the last few years. Recently, Jim shared with me that he was doing a one minute breakaway on a local rock station in Houston. For those who missed the daily inspirational thought, there was an internet subscription. I became a subscriber and after reading a few, I'm glad I did.

I have listed Jim Jackson's blog, "Jim's Daily Awakenings" on my short list of blogs to visit. I invite you to visit the site. Since each entry is designed for a minute, it will not take long, but the thoughts shared will stay with you for a much longer time. Jim is a lover of Jesus and an encourager. You will sense this as you read what he writes.

There are so many ways to be a blessing to others. New ways are opening up to us all every day. How important it is that we stay in touch with the Christ who has changed us into something new so that we miss not a single one of those unfolding opportunities.

Rain Makers

2011-06-02T23:26:00.009-04:00

It was noon and the church parking lot was mostly full. However, it was today, Thursday, and not Sunday. Had it been Sunday I would have known what was happening. Since it was Thursday, I had to ask and when I did, I discovered the church was having a meeting to pray for rain. If I had known I would have slipped in to add my prayers to theirs instead of continuing on my way.

While some might smile at the naivete of those simple country folks, they model a serious attitude toward drought and prayer. Immediately, our memory of scripture takes us to weather related prayers. Elijah is, perhaps, the first rainmaker who comes to mind. While the written story does not tell us, Noah was likely praying for rain as he was building that boat with the ridicule of neighbors raining down upon him. Of course, Jonah saw more than his share of stormy rain and water. And, then there is Jesus. He walked on the water with storm raging around Him and spoke clear weather into existence.

Today was not the first time a group of those who belonged to God gathered to pray for rain. Neither will it be the last. Tonight as I hear approaching thunder and see flashes of lightning in the distance, I hear myself praying that God will bring the rain closer and soak the dry earth that is all around me.

A New Place

2011-05-08T23:53:00.005-04:00

Anyone who knows much about my preaching preparation knows it has always included preaching to empty pews. No, not on Sunday morning. Certainly, there were those Sunday mornings when more pews were empty than filled, but the reference to "empty pew preaching" has to do with Saturday night. Preaching is a form of verbal communication and it always seemed important to me to finish my preaching preparation by preaching the sermon several times to empty pews.

Retirement has put me in a different world. As I go to the Rocky Ford Church each Sunday, I find myself once again in a preaching ministry. Since the church is ten miles away from our home, going up to do practice preaching is a bit difficult. Some kind folks might say that after 39 years of preaching, I could let the practice go, but they would be wrong. For me it is still important for more reasons than I have room to enumerate here. So, in lieu of a sanctuary, I go out of the house to a pecan shaded place between our blueberry patch and the garden. Using a black wrought iron table as a pulpit, I preach my sermon to any of God's creatures that might pause to listen.

This new place I use to practice my preaching is a different kind of sanctuary. In the brick and mortar ones where I practised my preaching, I was always aware of the symbols and signs of the holy all around me. What I have discovered in this new place is that it, too, is filled with signs of the holy. Indeed. They abound!

Easter

2011-04-27T00:55:00.010-04:00

No matter where we are, Easter is still Easter. In my last few preaching appointments, Easter was a day of overflowing crowds as 700 to 800 folks showed up to worship. This past Sunday at Rocky Ford United Methodist Church a larger than average crowd showed up, but it was still much smaller than recent memories of Easter crowds. But, it still felt like Easter. It was an exciting moment of worship that was full of joy and celebration.

What I had experienced in other places on Resurrection Sunday was experienced again last Sunday. Once again it was good to hear the Easter greeting, "Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!" The singing of those Easter hymns seemed a little stronger, more heart felt. The Biblical readings for the day hung in the air filling the place with power. Once more this preacher sensed the passion that accompanies preaching on such a glorious day. I know it can be done, but it is hard to mess up Easter. There is a power and presence peculiar to this day of worship which remains unparalled.

An added bonus was the blessing of "getting it." Back in January I posted a blog entitled "Stuck." It was a word sharing my struggle at figuring out why I was stuck with the first three verses of the book of Ezekiel. I wrote, "Over and over I find myself reading these few words with a feeling that I have not gotten it yet." I am now free to move on. When I left Easter worship this past Sunday morning, I almost immediately thought about these Words from Ezekiel and heard myself saying, "I got it!"

NO. 40

2011-04-23T23:05:00.006-04:00

For the past thirty-nine years I have had a place to preach on Easter Sunday. When I retired, I figured that "preaching streak' would end. No preacher I know invites someone to preach for them on Easter Sunday. To do so might be cause for the Bishop to question the preacher's call to preach. However, life has strange twists and turns and once again I find myself with the opportunity to preach on Easter Sunday. When asked back in February to fill in for a couple of months, one of the first thoughts I had was that it would give me one more Easter Sunday to preach. Tomorrow at Rocky Ford United Methodist I will be preaching Easter sermon No. 40.

Over the years I have done a number of things with the preaching on Easter. There were times when I really failed to preach the message. One thing learned over the years is that trying to be cute with some catchy thought on Easter is pointless. People do not come to Easter morning worship because they need to be entertained. Entertainment is everywhere we turn in our world. What brings them to Easter morning worship is the message of the resurrection and to focus on any other theme is to waste the preaching opportunity and their time as well.

So, tomorrow I have one more time to preach that marvellous life changing message that Jesus has been raised from the dead and that He desires for us to share that same victory when this life of ours on this earth comes to an end. This is the message people come to hear. It is the only message worth preaching on a day which C.S. Lewis said, "causes the foundations of hell to tremble." May it be so where we all are on this Easter Sunday, 2011.

Conflicting Words

2011-04-18T00:30:00.008-04:00

The world is full of messages for those who are watching and listening. Some are blaring into our ears in such a way it is impossible to ignore them. Others are so subtle we hardly realize we have allowed the message to slip past the barriers declaring right and wrong. Some are on bumpers of vehicles and some are on the portable message signs which stand in front of so many businesses. On a recent trip into Savannah, there was this message which said, "A clear conscience is a sign of a bad memory." It was an invitation to make light of a conscience which might actually steer someone away from entering the lounge and game room under the sign.

Of course, the scripture does not equate a clear conscience with a bad memory. Instead, it equates it with living in a right relationship with God. When the Apostle Paul stood before the council condemning him, he declared, "Brothers, up to this day I have lived my life with a clear conscience before God." (Acts 23:1) And later, Peter would write to the church and say, "Keep your conscience clear..." (I Peter 3:16). For Paul and Peter a clear conscience was about living in a right way before God. It was important for them to be able to look back with no memory of bad choices, only right living.

Surely, that thing we call "conscience" seeks to steer us toward the same kind of life choices made by the Apostles. A clear conscience is not a thing which is actually impossible to possess as the message board would suggest. The Word of God declares a different thing. It is possible to live with a clear conscience, knowing that we are living in a right relationship with God and our brothers and sisters. The Hebrews called it righteous living and so we are we all called and empowered to live.

Amazing Places

2011-02-15T00:03:00.004-05:00

Those who know me, know that I do re-reads like some folks do re-runs on television. It is my belief that reading a book once is no reason not to read it again. Some novels by favorite authors have been read six, seven, or more times. While I thinned my library harshly upon retirement, one book I kept because I knew it would be read again was John Eldredge's Walking With God.

Very simply it is a book about prayer. The underlying theme of the whole book is: "An intimate, conversational walk with God is available." When the book is taken seriously, it shatters the shell of contentment we often construct around our prayer life. According to Eldredge, an intimate prayer life requires work done on our knees, time measured not in moments but in big chunks, and the willingness to replace routine patterns of prayer with risk and experimentation. He taps that desire in us to want more in our prayer life and then challenges us to go after it.

But, perhaps, one of the most prayer changing things he teaches is the art of asking. No one taught us in seminary to ask God what to pray about in a pastoral prayer, or how to pray for someone who comes with a need which seems so obvious. Like many others I have learned the art of depending on my own insights and impressions instead of stopping and asking, "God, how do you want me to pray here?" But, I am also beginning to learn that asking can take us to amazing places in our praying.

At the Bottom

2011-02-07T00:16:00.008-05:00

Today I led worship and preached ten miles up the road at the Rocky Ford UMC. As I anticipated this morning I knew I would need my Bible and my Hymnal. Both were still packed in moving boxes. While I have had a Bible available for reading, it is not the one I had been using as a preaching companion for some years now. So, Saturday afternoon I started my search. I went through all the boxes and found neither of the sought after books. I started telling myself they were gone, lost and never to be found. A second search was more thorough and more fruitful. I found both my pulpit Bible and my Hymnal side by side at the bottom of one of the boxes. Being at the bottom meant that they were the first ones packed which spoke a quiet word about their importance to me.

The two books have been worship companions for at least the last seven years. The Hymnal was given to me as a parting gift by the staff at the Perry Church. The Bible was bought as a replacement for one so worn out, it would fall apart if carried into the pulpit. While the Hymnal has pages that have been doused by baptismal water, the Bible bears its markings as well. Most of those marking are notes, underlinings, arrows, and brackets. When my memory fails about the chapter and verse of a certain Word, I often am able to find it by remembering its location on the page and the markings which lift it up.

Over the years of preaching, I have always had a Bible that was used exclusively for preaching. Picking it up reminded me that something important was before me. Picking it up reminded me that the task was to speak in such a way that the written Word became the spoken Word. It was good to put my Bible and my Hymnal to good use this morning. I pray that I was as well.

Quiet Enough to Hear

2011-02-04T23:13:00.009-05:00

It was about sunset today when I heard them coming. I peered through the gray sky in the direction of the loud honking noise until I saw them. As I watched, these Canadian Geese came directly toward me in a perfect V-formation over our farm toward our neighbor's pond. They were no more than a hundred feet above me as they came soaring by. For some reason, as they drew overhead they ceased their honking. I looked up, was amazed at how close they were, and thought it better to look down in case something unwanted came dropping from the air. Better to be hit on the top of the head than in a mouth opened in awe and amazement! As I looked down for a moment, I heard something I had never heard. It was perfectly quiet. In that silence I heard the sound of fifty wings moving up and down through the air. It was an indescribable, gentle, soft, rushing sound. It was a moment of sheer wonder!

In our world filled with constant noise, it is not always quiet enough to hear. I had always missed the sound of wings moving through the air because other sounds and noises were too overwhelming. Surely, living in a world that is not quiet enough keeps us from experiencing "the sheer sound of silence" (I Kings 19:12). Such was how the prophet Elijah experienced the holy presence of God.

There are those moments of quietness which slip up on all of us, but most of the time it is necessary to be intentional about creating them, or moving into them as they are shaped for us by God. Allowing the demanding noises to captivate our attention only means missing some of the important stuff God has for us. If we truly want to hear the voice of God and know the wonder of His presence in our lives, it must be quiet enough to hear.

Sunday Morning Word

2011-02-01T01:00:00.005-05:00

This past Sunday morning included the usual appointment. Susie is our German Shorthair Pointer. Each morning I let her out of the pen, pour a bowl full of dry dog food, and stand around somewhere nearby while she eats. My presence seems to help her stay focused on eating instead of running off after some scent in the air. As I stood there I watched her scrounging around on the ground for a few pieces of food that missed the bowl. I thought, "Dumb dog! You have a bowl full of food and you're eating a few pieces off the ground!"

It was then that the Sunday morning Word came. I heard it somewhere between my head and my heart. It was not spoken loudly, but it was spoken clearly. It came so quickly behind my words that it surprised me. The Word? "You're just like that. You have a bowl full of the abundant life in front of you and you insist on going after lesser things." The suddenness of it spoke volumes of its source. It was one of those moments which seem to knock me back a step or two.

When such Words are spoken in the inner place of our spirit, there is always a moment of decision. Sometimes I want to explain it away by declaring that it somehow originated with me. Sometimes I know from whence it came and want to ignore it. But, the only real choice, the one that calls for confession and obedience, is spoken of with the old adage, "If the shoe fits, wear it."

Stuck

2011-01-27T00:18:00.005-05:00

When I arrived at the Blakely UMC in Blakely, Ga. for my second summer of youth ministry in that church, a new pastor was waiting. As he started his preaching ministry, it seemed that he preached only stewardship sermons. I thought it odd. He explained by telling me a story of a preacher who went to a new church and preached the very same sermon again and again and again. Finally, someone asked if he had another sermon. As the story goes the preacher said, "When you act like you have heard the first one, I will preach another!"

Recently, I have been reading the Old Testament book of Ezekiel. Actually, I should say I have been trying to read it. There are times when it seems that the Spirit directs us to certain parts of the Word and this has been one such time. My problem in reading it has not been in figuring out all the visions of this prophet. To be honest is to admit I have gotten no further than the first three verses. While I have heard some of what I sense to be the Word of Lord for my life in this passage, I still find no freedom to move on to what follows. Over and over I find myself reading these few Words with a feeling that I have not gotten it yet.

There are things about it which seem rather obvious, but I continue to be led back to it in a way that tells me there is still something more. So, I stay in place, reading and praying and waiting. Maybe I will end up discovering it is not the book of Ezekiel to which I have been led, but to those first three verses which appear to be nothing than the introduction of the prophet.

Jubal's Tribe

2011-01-17T01:30:00.005-05:00

Bible trivia experts will have no trouble identifying Jubal. He is Jabal's brother. Genesis 4:21 also tells us that Jubal is the ancestor of all those who play the lyre and pipe. I interpret that to mean Jubal is the ancestor of all the church musicians of today who lead and enable the rest of us to worship. I have always been grateful to have members of Jubal's tribe in the churches which have been a part of my worship history. Sometimes they are paid staff and sometimes they are simply volunteers with music in their hearts. Sometimes they enhance what is happening in worship and sometimes they are its savior.

It happened where I worshipped as the musician shared a bit about her personal faith journey and then began to sing a song I had not heard in years. She sang, "O how I love him, how I adore Him. He's my breath, He's my sunshine, He's my all in all. The Great Creator became my salvation, and all God's fullness dwelleth in Him." The title of the song is "Down From His Glory." If I had been the preacher for the day, I would have had the congregation sing the chorus with her when she finished. I used to do that when I just had to sing a song I had heard!

Both her testimony and her music blessed me and everyone else present. I wonder sometimes if these musicians who grace us with their music realize the blessings imparted to us as the Spirit works through them. I am always grateful for the offerings they bring to worship. On those Sundays when I knew I bombed out as a preacher, I was extremely grateful for those who lifted us into the Father's presence with their ministry of music. Today, or yesterday morning, I was grateful for this blessing of God's presence brought into the room by this musician who did what she did not because she was paid, but because she was being faithful to God.

The Chicken Man

2010-12-29T00:53:00.006-05:00

When I was a new graduate of one of the schools that instructs people about doing ministry, I went to work like I had been taught. Over and over we heard people telling us that we were going out into the world to be resident theologians in communities. We heard people who were supposed to know telling us we were going out to be the professional religious person in the community in the same manner that a doctor is the professional medical person or the teacher, the professional education person. I bought the package being taught and went out to my first churches with this attitude that resulted in detachment more than anything else.

I should have gone to see the Chicken Man. Actually, I did not know him back then, but I am sure he must have existed somewhere. Where I have seen him most recently is at the local Chick-fil-A. He is the first shift manager. Since it is one of our most frequented fast food joints, I have had the opportunity to watch him a lot. While I am sure he spends time behind the counter, in the kitchen, or in the office, I mostly see him out in the store taking care of people and the stuff that needs attention. During the noon rush hour, he can be seen bagging trash and taking it to the dumpster. He cleans tables, always friendly and always asking if there anything he can do. I have even caught him cleaning the bathroom. All those young college students working there may be learning how to serve food, but they also have an opportunity to see a great example of servant leadership.

A lot of clergy and lay leaders at churches should go and watch. Good leaders serve. Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, modeled servant leadership. Constantly, He put aside personal needs to care for the needs of those around Him. His servant's heart finally took Him, not the head of the table, but to the cross.

A Christmas Prayer

2010-12-26T00:40:00.004-05:00

As I attended the Christmas Eve Communion Service at First Church, Albany, it was hard not to reflect on the difference a year can make. For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, I was not preaching a Christmas Eve sermon and serving a church family the holy sacrament. Instead I was kneeling on the outside of the rail with my wife, Lynn, on one side and my oldest grandson, Will, on the other. With hands outstretched and open, I waited for the robed one to place the sacrament in my hand. When it was all done, I listened to the table dismissal which called upon the God who never changes to be a Helper to those whose lives were filled with much transition and change. As I heard the prayer, my own heart was warmed and stirred.

Over the years there have been many times when a departing passer by at the door told me, "Preacher, what you said was just for me." It always pleased me to hear such words, but I also always knew that if it happened that way, it was more about God than the preacher. On Christmas Eve such a moment came again, but this time I would have been the one speaking them had I had the opportunity at the door.

It should not have been a surprise to experience God at work on Christmas Eve for it was the holy moment of celebrating that God is with us. Understanding it is impossible. It is as mind boggling as the theology of the Trinity. What we know, we know more by faith than anything else. Through Jesus being on earth, it has been clearly made known that God is with us. His physical sojourn on earth was brief, but now we know we are not alone. No matter where we are and regardless of the changes, God is with us. Always.

Birthday Bashing

2010-12-26T00:15:00.005-05:00

I saw them yesterday and then again today on the journey home from Albany. It was one of those small towns which dot the South Georgia landscape. One yard after another had a red manufactured road side sign which read, "Happy Birthday Jesus." Now I must confess to attending a few Birthday Parties for Jesus complete with cake. In December someone decides a birthday party for Jesus would make for a good children's event at church. I have never planned one, but have walked in on more than a few. To be honest is to admit that there is something inside which screeches like a finger nail scraping a chalk board whenever this birthday for Jesus business shows up.

It has never seemed like good theology. The "Happy Birthday Jesus" signs are trivializing. People have birthdays, but I am not sure it is appropriate to use the human method of calculating years when speaking of the One spoken of with the sacred words, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God" (John 1:1-2). For those who might wonder about the identity of "the Word" John later goes on to proclaim, "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:12). No one really questions the fact that "the Word" and "Jesus" are one and the same.

All this birthday stuff is like saying, "Let us make Him in our own image." Folks have done such for a long time. When we talk about Jesus we use words such as Transfiguration, Resurrection, Ascension, and Glorification. Christmas does not call us to celebrate His birthday, but the Incarnation, the news that God has chosen to be with us. No matter how much we might try, it is not a human event to be celebrated with a party, but a divine event which should be remembered on our knees.

The Stowaway

2010-12-25T23:57:00.005-05:00

Guess it could be called a stowaway. A "Stowaway Card." It showed up the other day in a book not opened for awhile. Clergy business cards often were used to let people know I had stopped for a visit, but also to write down things I wanted to remember later. On some occasion I came across some words from the ancient church father, Augustine. On the back I wrote a quote I wanted to remember later. "Be always unhappy about where you are. If you want to reach where you are not, if you are pleased with what you are, you have stopped already. If you say, 'It is enough' you are lost. Keep on walking, moving forward, trying for the goal."

Perhaps, Augustine had been meditating on the Apostle Paul's letter to the Philippian Christians. To them he wrote words like, "I do not consider that I have made it my own, but this one thing I do; forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus (Phil. 3:13)

Both Augustine and Paul speak volumes in a few words about this journey we have undertaken. We need not be leery of those whose words speak of a different place on the journey. The only ones to worry about are those who speak words which speak of arriving. There are a lot of folks on the road with us. The backs of others ahead can serve the same purpose as our back does for those behind. They can provide an invitation to "Keep on walking" and to "strain forward to what lies ahead."

Wondering

2010-12-01T22:15:00.005-05:00

For the first time in over 15 years there has been no Advent Cactus to alert me to the approaching season. My Advent Cactus was given to me anonymously while pastoring the Vidalia Church and sat in my office as long as I did. It was watered ocassionally, neglected most of the time, yet, a week or two before the Advent Season it would always start showing pink buds which would soon blossom. Each year I watched in amazement and gratitude for its faithfulness. When I left Richmond Hill for retirement, I gave the Advent Cactus to a staff member as a parting gift. It was for me more than just a plant. It was a treasure.

Perhaps, the plant never made it to this Advent Season. Maybe it missed its owner of all those years and wasted away! Or, maybe it could not stand the shock of an owner who looked after it. Nonetheless, I have found myself wondering about it during these early days of Advent. Without its pink announcement to alert me, Advent almost slipped up on me. So, here I am wondering. Wondering. Not a bad thing to be doing during a holy season of waiting and expectation.

This Advent season will surely be different for me as I have journeyed from a place behind the rail to a place in front of it. Yet, this growing awareness within that something is about to happen is so present with me. The Advent hymns are rising out of my spirit as surely as they do from the pages of the hymnal and there is once again the deep desire to read and hear the sacred readings of the season. Instead of seeing pink buds, there is a sense that the Spirit is stirring within me, saying, "Something is about to happen!" And I find myself waiting, expecting, and wondering all over again!

The Frame

2010-11-22T23:37:00.003-05:00

For so long life was framed by the seasons on the Christian Calendar. Time passed according to its relationship to Easter morning. The seasons of Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, and Pentecost were noted more than the ordinary seasons of the calendar such as Fall, Winter, Spring, and Summer. One of the things noticed in these early days of retirement is that life is framed differently. While I am not always sure which Sunday it is in the season of Pentecost, I am aware of things like the time of sunrise and sunset. Changing seasons are noted not by changing colors of paraments, but by changing temperatures, the location of the rising sun, the color of trees and fields, and even clouds in the sky. The Sanctuary is not inside a building, but is now much larger and there is no going in or out of it. The sacred smell of candles has been replaced by the sacred smell of earth. The frame of life is different.

Still, however, there are those moments which must somehow be remembered and observed. All Saints Sunday is one such moment. The place I worshipped had no "All Saints Sunday" worship, the space around me was not filled with the refrain of For All the Saints, and there was no reading of the honored dead who live now in heavenly place. While the structured moment was missed, the sacred opportunity was not. During that week I found myself remembering and calling the names of those souls important to me who had passed from this life to the life to come. The hymn of the day became my theme song for the week.

We worship in the sacred spaces all around us. They come in all sizes and shapes. As long as we carry a heart filled with love for God and one bent on faithfulness, He will surely be pleased with our worship. What He sees is not our elaborate ritual or the lack of it, but our heart. Blessed be His name! Blessed be His Name!

Ron

2010-10-13T00:27:00.005-04:00

I found out today that Ron died last Friday. When I was pastor at the Vidalia Church, Ron Southerland was the priest at the local Episcopal Church. During this ten year pastorate, a small group of us met weekly at the Episcopal Church to talk about preaching, but mostly to share our lives together. The group changed from year to year as some left and others came, but Ron was always there. For almost 20 years he served the people of this community of faith. He left an imprint on them and upon those of us who weekly drank his coffee, laughed at his humor, and left thinking about what he had shared with us.

Though we were equals around the table, we all knew Ron was our mentor. He was our leader. He was an earthy kind of guy who had fought some battles. He won some and lost some and was always willing to talk to us honestly about both. Ron shared more than theology and preaching and jokes. He shared with us how to be real. He modeled it for us. My favorite "Ron quote" is, "Just remember there is a God, and she ain't you." He had a unique way of jarring us, making us think, and keeping us from taking ourselves too seriously.

Since my departure from Vidalia, I have missed Ron. And while I am grateful he has come fully into the presence of the Christ he lifted up, I shall still miss him. There is no other option. He allowed me to become a part of his life and he has been and shall always be a part of mine.

June 8

2010-10-13T00:06:00.006-04:00

June 8 is a good bit in the past now, but still remembered. On that day I did something folks only do once in a lifetime. I gave a retirement speech to the Annual Conference.

"Bishop King, members of the Annual Conference, I stand before you today with a grateful heart. I am grateful for my wife Lynn who has been my spiritual partner for over 40 years. I am grateful for two adult daughters, Jennifer and Leslie, who grew up in parsonages and are both young women of deep faith. I am grateful for my grandsons, Will and Josh, and Fletcher who will be born in about a month. I am grateful for my Mother, a strong woman of faith, whose marriage to Ray Wilder, Jr. when I was twelve, enabled me to become a third generation clergy member of this Annual Conference. And, I am grateful for the good people of the churches I have served during these 39 years: the people of Stapleton, Bethel, and Zoar, churches on the Stapleton Charge, the people of the Tennille Church, the Talbotton Church, the St. John Church in Columbus, the people of First Church, Vidalia, the Perry Church, and the Richmond Hill Church. I am grateful for the set apart members of this community who have provided me a spiritual home, a place where I have always sensed belonging. Most of all I am grateful to God for calling me, a young boy not yet 18 years old, to preach the gospel and for giving me a place to preach for what has been a lifetime of Sundays. He surely must have been scrapping the bottom of the barrel on the day He called me to preach His Word. Father God, thank You. Father God, thank You.

The Invitation

2010-04-30T23:54:00.004-04:00

A few days ago a wedding invitation showed up in the mailbox. It came from someone I remember as a child. Molly was the first child of Burley and Debbie. I had the privilege of baptizing her a long time ago when I was pastor at the St. John Church in Columbus. It turned out to be a three generation baptism. Her Dad who was not a believer before her birth came to faith in Christ, in part, through the miracle of her birth. I had the great joy of baptizing him as well. After his baptism this father started sharing his new faith in Christ with his mother who was terminally ill with cancer. I still remember the day we gathered at her home to receive her profession of faith and baptize Molly's grandmother.

When I opened the card and saw that Molly was about to be married, I was honored to be remembered by this family from so long ago. Neither could I help but to have my heart warmed by the remembrance of the way that God allowed me to have a small part in the faith journey of these three family members. This story of faith in Christ has found found a place in many a sermon preached over the years and its witness has inspired many gathered congregations.

The invitation reminded me of what ministry is all about. You would think from eavesdropping on the Administrative Board meetings of most United Methodist Churches that ministry is about money, building maintenance, and power politics. Time obliterates those kinds of things. The number of new members received in a certain year may have seemed important at the moment, but has long ago been forgotten. What is remembered and carried in the heart with such joy and gratitude are stories of faith, stories like the three generation baptism. Those are the only ones which really count!

The Bell

2010-04-21T19:18:00.007-04:00

One of the things I enjoy doing every Wednesday night before our Wednesday Worship is ringing the chapel bell. Maybe it brings out the kid in me! Actually, I seldom ring it without remembering the bell in the Susan B Harris Chapel at Young Harris College. I spent two years there being educated and nurtured by this Methodist institution. More fortunate than I realized at the time was I in attending this small college in the North Georgia Mountains.

When I tell folks that my scholarship job was ringing the bell, they usually look at me a little strange. But, it is true. Young Harris did not have an electronic bell system to change classes. Instead, someone rang the chapel bell which could be heard all over campus and beyond. My work day started at 7:50 AM when I rang the bell serving notice that it was time to get out of the sheets. I rang it again at 7:55 AM to let everyone know they had five minutes to get to class on time. And then, at 8:00 AM, I rang the bell for the last time as a signal that classes could start. Every hour until 4:00 PM, I repeated this task. Ten minutes before the hour, I rang the bell to end classes, five minutes later to hurry folks on to the next place, and then, on the hour to start the next class period. One of the perks of the job was having an excuse for arriving late to class and leaving early!

It was also my first taste of power. I can still remember the face of a friend looking my way as he ran across campus to class and my decision to ring the bell a minute early to insure his late arrival! And, of course, there were times when I felt merciful and would delay the bell long enough for someone to make it without the disapproving eye of some professor. It was a great job! I am not sure when YHC quit using the chapel bell to change classes, but I am happy to have it on my resume!

Mysterious Morning

2010-04-04T03:03:00.004-04:00

If I were not trained to think theologically, I would say about this morning that it is magical. Instead, this morning set aside for remembering and celebrating the resurrection of Jesus seems mysterious. Knowing that it is such a day causes everything about the new day to be viewed differently. The sun seems brighter. The air feels crisper. The blooms of flowers look fuller. On those Ester Sundays when it rains, the rain feels more cleansing. It is like walking into a picture that is still being painted. Suddenly, all our senses perceive how vibrant and full of life are all those things around us. Yes, indeed, it is Easter.

Even though sunrise services are a part of the Easter tradition, there is also such a sense of anticipation about returning to the Sanctuary of the Lord on this day. Having been there on other days such as this one, we find ourselves being filled with a holy anticipation. The crowds will be in the overflow mode. Trumpets will sound. Bells will ring. The singing will be unparalleled and full of transcendence. The preachers will strain to proclaim the profound truth that "He is Risen!"

It is day filled with the crispness of something new, a day filled with the anticipation of the holy, and a day filled with a divine mystery that is glorious. The Savior who was born as flesh among us, the Godhead who came from glory to earth, and the divine Son of God who chose to live in our midst died on the cross as a sin sacrifice for each one us and has been raised from the dead by the power of the Holy Spirit destroying both the power of sin and the the power of death in one full sweep! It is, indeed, a day for celebrating a great mystery.

Jimmy

2010-04-03T01:12:00.005-04:00

Good Friday is now yesterday, but still, it was only hours ago that I walked from the Good Friday worship service remembering Jimmy. He was the one who brought me to a point of offering a tradtional three hour worship experience on Good Friday which focused on the Seven Words of Jesus from the cross. At the time he was at the Glenwood Church and I was at Vidalia. He was young, barely out of seminary and I was in my fifth appointment. When he told me about offering this worship service, I was a bit surprised. "Who," I thought, "would go to a three hour worship service?" I asked him what he would do if no one came. His answer I have never forgotten. "If no one came, I would still read the lessons. It is important that they be read."

Somewhere in those Vidalia years, I started offering that three hour Good Friday worship experience. I discovered that people would come. While it is the kind of worship setting which provides for people to come and go, staying whatever amount of time they want, there are always some folks who come at the beginning and leave three hours later when the benediction is pronounced. I also discovered that something powerful begins to happen in my life as I am involved in such a lengthy service that takes me to the foot of the cross and keeps me there. And, I have also learned that I am not alone as those who share in those moments of worship bear the same testimony.

While too many churches think it is something only Roman Catholic Churches do, it is a thing of great value to the church. More and more the cross is being pushed out of the picture of what God has done for us through Jesus. We do Palm Sunday one week and jump to Easter the next. No one is invited or encouraged to stop at the cross and meditate on its place in our spiritual lives. That omission can lead to a watered down theology. I left Good Friday worship thankful that Jimmy spoke that word to me long years ago. Had he not, I would have missed such powerful blessings over these years.

Journey's End

2010-03-31T14:37:00.005-04:00

We started the journey with ashes. Here we are now with only a few of those holy days left. Coming to the end of the Lenten journey means going deeper into the darkness that has been looming on the horizon for some time now. It can be no other way. What awaits us in this Lenten season is the gathering where feet were washed, the meal was served, and the betrayer went out into the darkness. What awaits us is the nighttime struggle in the Garden with Satan and the arrest of Jesus. What awaits us is Friday, a day filled with such horror that not even the sun could penetrate the darkness being put upon the earth.

The Lenten journey started so long ago ends with a battered, bloody, dead body being lowered from the cross and a trip to a hole filled with the darkness of the nearing sunset and death. It is at this point that the journey ends. The Lenten journey does not end this Sunday when the trumpets sounds resurrection; instead, it ends as we behold the Savior buried in the ground of the earth. As we stand there at the end of the journey, we start coming to terms with how hopeless and dark life really is when it is emptied of the presence of Jesus.

Sometimes as I hear on Good Friday, "It's Good Friday, but, Easter is coming!" I fear we are doing what we tend to do too easily with the stuff of life that makes us uncomfortable. What we tend to do is race on by without really allowing ourselves to experience a present moment filled with the pain of life. Not thinking about it is a way of not dealing with it. Only as we stay in the darkness of the journey's end do we have any hope of truly experiencing all that the Lenten journey offers to us. The beginning is about ashes. The ending is about the death of a Savior and the darkness where there is no hope.

The Rolling Cross

2010-03-30T23:41:00.005-04:00

Not really sure what I saw I took a second look. What caught my attention was what seemed to be a person in a long white dress. As I turned momentarily from the highway in front of me to see what I saw out of the corner of my eye, I realized the white dress billowing in the wind was really a white robe. Alongside the white robed man were two other folks who were helping him get under the rather large wooden cross. In the space of those quick seconds, I thought, "Ah, someone is carrying a cross along the road." It is not a particularly unheard of thing. After all, it is Holy Week and Good Friday is coming. Just as I was turning my attention back to my driving, I saw it. At the bottom of the cross where it might be dropped into the ground there was a wheel. The guy was not really going to be carrying the cross, or dragging it. He was going to be rolling it. It was not the old rugged cross, but the rolling cross.

Now I am sure it was still a bit of an ordeal to manhandle that large wooden cross along the side of the road. The wheel might have made it easier, but it was still a task which would surely make the Jesus impersonator weary and worn. It was a warm windy afternoon and rolling that thing along for any amount of time would be a hot sweaty task. It might have been mimicking the suffering of Jesus, but still it was a long way from experiencing the suffering of Jesus.

The truth is we much prefer a rolling cross. It looks like the real thing, but is not even close. Jesus once spoke to His disciples about "taking up a cross." A cross was an instrument of death. To take up a cross means denying self to the point that we count our life something of no value unless it is useful for the purposes of God. Taking up a cross as Jesus talked about it is messy, painful, and results in a death. While it may not be the death that takes away our breath, it is the death that takes away the right to self. It is no wonder some folks sing, "I will cling to the rolling cross..."

The Parsonage

2010-03-18T18:16:00.007-04:00

Though times are changing some, it can still be said that the parsonage is a permanent fixture in Methodism in the South Georgia area. For those out of the Methodist loop, the parsonage is the house provided by the local church for its appointed pastor. Having lived in one since the 8th grade, I have seen more than just a few. While a few have been near new and more have been well used, one stands out as the most unusual. The most unusual was not the one from which the snake had to be evicted before we could move in. Actually, we didn't move in that one. The snake seemed to be a signal that the church needed new housing. The most unusual was the one that was shared with an unseen friend.

The parsonage at Talbotton was a unique place. It was built in 1890, was on the Registry of Historical Places, and had been updated as much as possible without negating its place as a historical site. It had a great front porch, high ceilings, and a wide interior hallway down the middle which separated one side of the living area from the other. It still makes a striking presence on the corner upon which it was built over a century ago. When we went there in the mid '70's, we were told by a pastor and his wife had who lived there decades earlier that the house was haunted. At the time the pastor was my District Superintendent! Stories abounded about the reason. Some said there had at one time been a graveyard on the site of the house and a grave or two had been missed when they were moved to the new cemetery. Others declared an American Indian had been laid to rest where the house stood.

I wonder if stories still come from the Talbotton parsonage. Maybe preachers of our day have become too sophisticated to take the stories seriously, or maybe the unseen presence finally decided that no matter what, another Methodist preacher was still going to come. Maybe what happened to the unseen presence was what happens to a lot of church folks. Sometimes church folks get tired of waiting on the preacher to leave, so they go.

More About Journaling

2010-03-14T21:52:00.008-04:00

For me the journaling experience has always been a part of my early morning devotional time. As I come to that hour I turn on the computer, bring up the last entry of the journal, and type in the date. In addition to the scripture, there are several daily devotional guides which I read during this time. One is written for clergy; one is written by Dennis Kinlaw, the President of Asbury College back in my days; and, the other is a pre-1900 devotional guide from my old book collection. As I come across a verse or a sentence which seems to stand out as a significant word for that moment, I copy it in my journal, noting the source, and my response to it. This gives me a record of what was going on in my walk with God on this particular day. It has also proven to be helpful to read back over previous day's entries and read these highlighted passages.

The journal discipline also provides a place to note some of the things about which I am praying. Sometimes there is simply a notation about a prayer and sometimes I actually turn to the keyboard and type in the prayer as if I am writing and sending it to God. So, what I end up with is a record of praying. It has been more than interesting to look at what I was praying about months ago, or maybe even a year ago, and see how it is that those prayers were handled by the Father God who received them. At times it seems like God is standing behind me, looking over my shoulder as I pray these prayers on the screen before me. It has become another way for me to be interactive with God about the things of my heart.

The bottom line for me is the journal has become another spiritual discipline. It is a constant reminder of the degree to which I am intentional about my personal life with God. While I do not require of myself an entry every day, a long space between the present and the last dated entry says a word about my commitment to being spiritually disciplined. In those moments my journal becomes like a call to once again do some re-arranging of the space in my life.

About Journaling...

2010-03-09T17:14:00.008-05:00

"Blog a bit about journaling," was the suggestion I received after my recent posting about a lost and found journal. It caused me to think about something I have just been doing. To be honest is to to admit that I did not really start out to journal. I was struggling with some stuff and sat down to write about what was inside of me. It was for me one of those things about which it can appropriately be said , "It just happened!"

After receiving the suggestion, I decided to offer a few personal thoughts. In retrospect, a journal provides a place to be honest. My writing is a bit like the Psalmist David. While it is not eloquent, poetic, or a word for the ages, it is honest. From the beginning I found myself falling into a pattern of being honest with myself and God about some of the things I was feeling. Some of those feelings can only be described as unholy, maybe even thoughts which were "un-preacher-like!" It has never been my intent to simply recount the experiences or the encounters of the day; yet, there are so many entries in which I am remembering some of the affirmations or conflicts of the day and reflecting upon them. In some ways the journal process has become a documentation of the way God brings my life to a place where it intersects with the lives of others.

Some moments have such value that they must be remembered. For example, I do not want to forget the way a small child's hug spoke to me of God's presence. And neither, do I want to forget the way I felt after lashing out at someone who was throwing verbal stones at me. The memory of the child's hug has often encouraged me and the memory of my unleashed anger has helped me to still my tongue. So, I suppose the first words I would offer about journaling is that it is about remembering and learning.

Small Groups

2010-02-28T15:31:00.012-05:00

Small Group ministry has been around the United Methodist Church for a long, long time. What is surprising is that we do not do more of it. John Wesley, the father of Methodism, got us started down that road back in the 1800's with his emphasis on the Society group as the primary gathering place for those called Methodists. Wesley was a reformer wanting only to see renewal come to the Church of England so he mandated that good Methodists go to a small accountability group during the week and to the Church of England services on Sunday. God had other plans for the people called Methodists.

Whenever we take even a casual look at our Methodist heritage, we see this strong focus on small group ministry. It is not surprising that we have moved away from it since such meetings require face-to-face communication and personal accountability. Nowadays we do too much of our communication through email and internet social groups which speaks of our preference for the impersonal over the personal.

Currently, I am involved with two small group ministries. Disciple Bible Study provides the forum for one and a recent Bruce Wilkinson book, You Were Born for This" has become the focus for the other. One group numbers about fifteen and the other about ten. After each one of these gatherings, I am so renewed by the fresh and honest faith being expressed by those who sit around the room with me. While I am perceived as the leader, it is I who is being so richly blessed in my spiritual life. It is always amazing the way God uses each of us to love, care for, and minister to others.

A "Luke 15" Moment

2010-02-25T17:12:00.006-05:00

I found it a few weeks ago. It had been lost a long time. When I found it, I realized it has been gone for almost a year. I had missed it. I had looked for it. Turned the room upside down a few times, but all my effort resulted in nothing. What I had lost and have now found was a spiritual journal. I started keeping it in December of '99. Instead of writing in a book, I elected to use a black floppy disk. When I started the practice of journaling, it quickly became a part of my early morning devotional time.

I must confess that there is not an entry for every day. I have never been that kind of journal keeper. In fact, in the beginning I made the decision that it would be ok not to enter something every day. I wanted desire to be my motivation and not guilt. It has been a good spiritual discipline for me. It is good to look back at some of the struggles and see how it all worked out. It is good to be able to read and remember some of the prayers and conversations with God. I have enjoyed recording some of the spiritual insights which have come through the scripture as well as through some of the various writings used over the years.

Somehow, it was lost. Disappeared. Things have a way of disappearing around my office. Not being as organized as I ought to be means that sometimes things of value get swallowed up by the clutter. Something like that must have happened to my journal laden black floppy disk. Several times I had gone through a stack of disks, but never was the right one found. Until the other day. All of a sudden, as if uncovered by the finger of God, it was clearly in view. I popped it into the hard drive to make sure it was indeed my journal and then I sat back and had my "Luke 15" moment.

A Gray Thumb

2010-02-18T18:02:00.010-05:00

My thumb was gray last night at the end of the Ash Wednesday service. I ran water over it, applied some soap, and rubbed it dry with a rough paper towel. The gray was still there. I suppose preachers who do Ash Wednesday services run the risk of leaving with a gray thumb. Actually, I wish it was just the thumb. Ash Wednesday worship is a powerful moment of worship for the people of God, but it is also an unsettling moment. Most everyone who came last night knew that before the work of worship was done, ashes were going to be placed on their forehead, and they would hear it said, "Remember, you are going to die." The words of the ritual may have been, "Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return," but the message remains the same.

As the one who imposes the ashes and says the words, I find it to be an unsettling moment. After saying the words of the ritual a hundred times or more, the meaning of those words about our mortality really settles down in a deep place in the soul. I can never get away from the realization that the people before me are those I care about and, here I am, looking them in the eyes, telling them they are going to die. It is just unsettling. Some who stand before me bear the marks of aging, but some also are carried to the ashes by parents. These, too, are marked and hear the same words. Yes, them, too. They, too, are a part of that crowd bearing mortality.

Last night another group showed up as well. I found myself remembering and seeing some from previous Ash Wednesday moments who were no longer here among us, but in the heavenly place. Their coming in my memory made it one of those "Yes,...but" moments. Yes, it is true that we shall all die. But, it is also true that death does not have the last word for we shall live as surely as Christ now lives and reigns among us and in the heavenly place. As I left the service with a gray thumb and an unsettled spirit, it was good to hear that word resonating in the inner places of my heart.

Small Places

2010-02-15T15:37:00.007-05:00

When I went to Talbotton as the Methodist preacher in 1976, it was a small place. Still is. The last census reported a few over 1,000 folks. However, small does not mean insignificant. Per acre it may be the most historical place in Georgia. The current Macy chain has its roots in the Straus family who started their first retail business in Talbotton back in the 19th century. The first session of the Georgia Supreme Court was held there in 1846. Before the depression took its toll, there were two colleges. Even the Methodist Church is a part of the historical parade. It was built in 1857 and is one of the earliest brick churches in Georgia. The parsonage was built in 1890 and is on the National Historical Registry. Legend has it that the town fathers deciding against the railroad coming through changed what might have been. Who knows?

However, one of the most influential men Talbotton produced was a man named Clarence Jordan. Back in the 1940's before anyone was thinking about racial injustice and the need for radical change, Clarence Jordan was living it out in a bold experiment in an inter-racial communal farming community known as Koinonia Farm near Americus, Georgia. While seldom mentioned his impact cannot be forgotten. His vision inspired many, including Millard Fuller whose name will always be attached to Habitat for Humanity.

While I never met Clarence Jordan, my stop in Talbotton introduced me to his story. It is a Kingdom of God story. It is the mustard seed story all over. From the smallest of places, the Kingdom of God becomes visible in mighty ways for those who have eyes to see.

The Unexpected Things

2010-02-04T17:37:00.006-05:00

Sometimes as I am inviting people to share something of their walk with God, I ask the question, "What has been the highwater mark of your walk with God today? Where have you in this day been made most aware of His presence?" I thought about the question Sunday as I left worship. I thought about it because I knew the answer. Most folks would have thought that my response might center around the wonderful anthem. It was indeed a good one! Or, others might have thought that I would point toward the preaching. For me it was one of those preaching moments when God seemed to truly be at work in both the preacher and those who were listening. Some Sundays preaching is characterized as a struggle, but last Sunday was one of those special Sundays of blessing when the sermon seemed to flow from beginning to end.

But, still I have not spoken of that moment which I would count as the highwater mark of my experience with God during those hours. It actually came after the benediction as I stood in the hallway with a couple. They were telling me of their need to move and something of the struggle in their lives which had precipitated the decision. We were together for no more than five minutes. We were together long enough to share our hearts, shed a few tears, and offer a prayer toward heaven. As I prayed the last words of the prayer, I knew that my day of ministry was really all about that one single moment of prayer in the hallway with a couple broken by the circumstances of life. What was important was not leading worship, preaching, or teaching a Sunday School group. What was important about last Sunday was the prayer in the hallway after the benediction had been sounded.

God does bring us to the unexpected moments. As I was doing all the preparation for ministry on Sunday, it never really occurred to me that the most important moment would be the one for which I could least prepare. Such is often how God works with us. It makes all the more important the daily work of prayer for from those moments we are made ready for the unexpected things God has for us.

The First Foray

2010-01-24T16:49:00.008-05:00

Getting ready for preaching today meant reading and preaching from a Lukan text telling about Jesus' first foray into his preaching ministry. From the Jordan to the wilderness to Galilee and the synagogue He went. It set me to thinking about my first preaching foray. My partner was Harold Lumley, a friend and fellow ministerial student at Young Harris College. During our second year we were provided an opportunity to preach in the mountains of western North Carolina. A Methodist preacher was appointed to an eight point charge in the Western North Carolina Conference and looked to the college for some student help in preaching. Every Sunday morning we left the campus and made our way up toward Murphy, NC to preach. We alternated Sundays which gave us more time to prepare.

One of the churches was Peachtree Methodist (no comparison to the one in Atlanta). Also, included in our rotating preaching schedule was the Bellview Methodist Church and Reid's Chapel. Those folks in those small rural mountain churches surely suffered through a lot of bad preaching as we tried to do our best, but they never were anything but gracious and kind to both of us. One thing I always remember is the music. Harold was an accomplished pianist, but the church normally had their own. One of the churches had a pianist who could only play I Am Thine, O Lord and Victory in Jesus so whenever we went to that church, those were our hymns!

So many small mostly rural churches have been the training ground for a lot of Methodist preachers. Some even speak of it as a ministry given to them by God. Certainly, I am grateful for those that have been a part of my life. My journey of faith would have been diminished without the opportunity to share with those good folks who model for green preachers extraordinary love and patience.

The Trumpet Player

2010-01-21T11:04:00.004-05:00

While visiting Talbotton memories, I found myself thinking about it as the town with an overabundance of characters. Some places are blessed in such ways. So, I found myself remembering "Little Brother" who towered over us all while walking and who flew over us all with the town's only airplane. Mr. Thomas was a courthouse fixture who gave two dollar bills to children at Christmas and who was such a character that his funeral was constantly being punctuated with laughter by those who remembered him. But, the most memorable character was Felder Spivey.

He operated and owned a general store on the courthouse square that had so much stuff that aisles were an afterthought. If it was not in his store, you probably did not need it. When I made my Friday afternoon visit through the stores in town, I always enjoyed seeing Felder. In his earlier days he had been in law enforcement and was mentioned in the book "Murder in Coweta County." As a carry over from those days, he still wore his holstered pistol.

But, Felder's great passion in life was his wife, Libba. When I went in the store, he would often read me a love poem he had written for her. She was an invalid during my Talbotton years, but she never seemed to lack for attention from her doting husband. After she died, Felder would go out to the cemetery late in the afternoon and play his trumpet over her grave. A stranger might not have understood, but those of us who knew about Felder and Libba just smiled and hoped that one day someone would care enough to blow a trumpet over us.

Talbotton

2010-01-12T18:15:00.013-05:00

Awhile back, I started writing some about churches to which I have been appointed. After the three point Stapleton Charge (three chuches: Stapleton, Bethel, and Zoar) and Tennille, I was appointed to the west Georgia county seat town of Talbotton. Most folks mis-pronounce it. Try "Tall-but-ton" without a southern drawl and you are likely to get closer than most of those who pass through and take a guess at the right way to say it! Actually, there was another church attached to the Talbotton Church, but a retired preacher, Brother Sam, took care of it the four years I was there.

The church was not a big congregation. As memory serves me in these days, it seemed like good Sundays had 75 or so sitting in the pews. Established in 1828 with the Sanctuary being built in 1852, or there about, I was around when the sesquicentennial celebration of the church was held. The big word a few back just means 150. It was a small enough place that I got to know most everyone in town as well as to be known as the Methodist preacher by most of the people in the community.

While some young preachers might want to shun a place like Talbotton, it is the kind of place any young preacher should hope for, particularly, in the beginning days of ministry. There was plenty of work to do, but not so much that it was overwhelming. Being the preacher at Talbotton was like being the General Practitioner instead of the medical specialist. The church provided an opportunity to interact with folks in all sorts of different circumstances. The church family was very much like a family. Folks knew each other, about each other, and still cared for each other. Every starting out preacher should be so fortunate as to have a stop like Talbotton on their list of places served.

Roy

2010-01-11T16:26:00.007-05:00

As soon as I stood up to speak, I noticed Roy. Whenever I preach at the Sunday afternoon worship service at Magnolia Manor, a United Methodist Retirement Center here in Richmond Hill, the men stand out because they are always in the minority. As is the case in most older adult communities, the women greatly outnumber the men. Out of the 25 or so folks worshipping at one these services at the Manor, there are likely to be 4 or 5 men. When I started preaching I saw Roy sitting behind the back pew in his motorized chair. When I finished my sermon, I sat down right in front of Roy. The closing hymn was announced. Even though I had just finished preaching about the wise men from the East, the closing hymn was "He Lives."When we got to the chorus, this strong bass voice sounded from behind me. "He lives! He lives! Christ Jesus lives today!" It was so strong I just stopped to listen. Each time we came to the chorus, I ceased singing and listened to the passionate singing of this man who obviously knew about Jesus living in his heart!

It was the highlight of my Sunday. His voice resonated all around as his testimony of faith in Jesus. After the singing was over, I caught up with Roy and told him, "You must have sung in some church choirs along the way." Of course, he had. I did not need him to tell me it was so, but he seemed to enjoy telling me about some of the places where he did.

I do not imagine Roy figured upon leaving his apartment last Sunday afternoon that his voice and his presence would be used by God to provide an act of ministry to another. Seldom do any of us leave home thinking that we are only a few moments away from being used by God to touch another person's life. I am grateful Roy made the effort to go to Vespers. God used him to inspire and encourage this Methodist preacher at the end of a long and tiring day.

$11,000 Sermon

2010-01-07T16:09:00.004-05:00

Last Sunday's sermon was worth $11,000. Well....almost. Actually, nine more dollars was needed to make it to $11,000, but it is close enough for me. Our Conference Asking goal for 2009 was just a shade over $127,000. Conference Askings represent that part of the church's giving commitment which support ministries beyond the local church. For several years the church here has come up short in reaching the goal of 100%, but this year we struggled, gave, and found ourselves about $21,000 short at the end of the year. So, I preached this sermon which ended with an invitation to give to a second offering that would go toward this part of the church's ministry. People got excited and $11,000 showed up in the offering plate. With that kind of response, the Finance Committee made sure we had the rest. It was a great day.

I felt really good about what we had done. I put my sermon away, thinking, "Here is an $11,000 sermon! Don't preach many of them." As I was basking in it all, I saw this article about Rick Warren. He is known as the "Purpose Given Church" guy out in California. It seems his church was having some financial woes as well. He wrote a letter asking for $990,000 from the congregation and got $2.4 million! It took a little of the air out of the ego balloon I was starting to inflate!

But, the truth is still the same whether we are talking about $11,000 or $990,000. God can still be counted on to provide what is needed for His church. Maybe a problem bigger than the economic downturn is the lack of faith which keeps us from ever really asking with expectation in the first place.

December 31

2009-12-31T20:32:00.010-05:00

"Father God, I thank You for Your kindness and mercy which has allowed me to see the end of still another year. Certainly, there have been moments in my life which have pleased You, but far more have, no doubt, caused You to shake Your head in disappointment. So, even as I thank You, I ask once again for forgiveness for those moments of living which have been less than what they should have been. Help me, Father God, to live up to Your expectations and to be about Your agenda in the places where You have put me.

But, more than this prayer for myself is the prayer in my heart tonight for so many others whose lives have intersected with my own. They have intersected because of the way You have enabled our paths to cross over the years. I remember so many of them tonight and ask Your abundant blessings upon them. I ask You to encourage and help, to forgive and to love. I pray for those who continue to struggle with chronic family problems. I ask for Your healing powers to rest heavy on those whose bodies are broken. I pray for the ones whose hearts have been shattered by the undesired circumstances of life. And, I pray, too, for each church to which You have sent me and ask that You would grant a powerful season of spiritual renewal.

Carry us all forward into Your future and into Your will. Give us grace to receive what touches our life from Your hand and such an awareness of Your Holy Spirit that we are never tempted to turn aside from the way of faithfulness. In Jesus name...in Jesus name...Amen."

Christmas Eve

2009-12-24T19:19:00.005-05:00

Christmas Eve is filled with so many traditions. It is interesting the way some things become tradition for us. At first we do not recognize it is happening. It is only after years have passed and we begin to see how something has become tradition that we are truly able to recognize it and call it by name. When I was in seminary I was given a book entitled "The Christian Year with Charles Wesley." It was written by John Lawson, one of my professors. As I recall he gave those of us studying with him an autographed copy. Every year on Christmas Eve I read some of the selected writings. This year has been no exception.

There was a time when I would offer three services of communion and prayers on Christmas Eve. After people were served communion, I would move back along the rail, place my hands on the heads of some of the family members, and offer a prayer for that family as they knelt on Christmas Eve. It was not a long prayer, but it was a very personal and powerful moment of intercession for me. As the congregations got larger, such a service became impossible for me to do. It has always been one of the things I miss doing on this holy evening.

Between those services, while waiting on the next crowd to gather, I would take Lawson's book with me and read from it. It has been my companion on my many a Christmas Eve. One verse from the Christmas Eve meditation says, "To men of simple heart, The Savior still reveal, The Welcome news impart, Of joy unspeakable; To us who here our station keep, To us a child is given, Who wait to find, while others sleep, The Lord of earth and heaven." Far beyond my seminary days has this man blessed me.

December 19

2009-12-19T22:17:00.006-05:00

It has been fifty-four years, but still this date is remembered as a day my life changed. My Father left home in the early morning, spoke a word as he was leaving, and was gone forever. It was in the early evening when the Air Force chaplain and some others came to tell my Mother he had been killed in a mid air collision with another plane earlier in the day. Those moments are etched so permanently in my mind that remembering makes it seem like yesterday. Life changed for my family and for the other families involved in that December tragedy. My own life has been, and in some ways, continues to be shaped by the loss of my Father at age seven.

At first there were more questions than there were answers. And while there are still some unanswered questions, they are no longer the consuming things they once were. I do know that the tragedy of the day caused me to look heavenward for the first time. Two years after my Father's death, I was baptized and my journey of faith began. It was something my Father started, too. It is good not to have any questions about that issue. He had never been a church go-er, but in the months before his death, he became aware of how God was seeking him and was making plans for his own baptism when death interrupted them. At first I thought the story of his plans for baptism were said by family to make me feel better, but then I found words written by a chaplain who knew him that spoke of his changed heart. I am grateful for those written words and even more grateful for the assurance of my Father's faith in Jesus.

I have wondered how my life might have turned out had the tragedy of that day been averted. Of course, there is no way to begin to imagine. I do know that God stayed with each of us through those days of darkness and still abides in our hearts today. I do know that the path may not have been the one anticipated, but He has surely been directing it all along. I have come to understand in recent years that this same thing was surely true for my Father who left this life when there was still so much life to live. For this I am also grateful.

Small World

2009-12-16T19:30:00.008-05:00

Lately, I have been visiting Mrs. Anne a good bit. For awhile she was in the hospital and now she is in Hospice care. At age 89 and brimming over with faith in Christ, Mrs. Anne would not want us to worry about the length of her days on earth for she is confident that she will soon be with Jesus in heaven. The other day I entered the room and she told me, "I've been listening to angels sing." I had no reason to doubt it. My only regret is my failure to ask what she heard them singing. On another visit I walked in the room to see six or eight of her family standing around her bed. I went because word had come that she was near death. When I went in the room, there was hysterical, hold-your-belly laughter. She had roused up from a light dozing sleep, saw them and said, "Ya'll still here? I thought this time I'd see angels!"

Today she told me a story of her first days as a nurse at the hospital in Waycross,. Ga. "It was February of 1948 and they assigned me to the nursery to help care for a set of premature triplets. One of them named Skeeter came to see me yesterday. I have been wondering why God has not taken me yet. Maybe it was so I could see Skeeter." When she finished I asked her how long she worked in the nursery. "About a year," she said. Her eyes really got wide when I said, "Well, I came into that nursery in June of '48 so I guess you took care of me, too."

It is indeed a small world. Long years ago Mrs. Anne offered care for me. Today I am blessed by God to be in a position to offer care to her. Only God could write such a story. I pray it was as much a blessing to this dear woman to see one of her babies grown up as it was for me to meet someone who held me with such care as a baby.

For Just One

2009-12-16T17:42:00.008-05:00

This past Sunday night was our annual "Festival of Lessons and Carols." For those who might be unfamiliar with this worship service, it is a blend of selected readings and music of the Advent and Christmas season. Through Word and music we are reminded of the sinful nature of humanity and our need for Jesus who is our Savior. The service which is held here on Sunday afternoon is not always as well attended as worship planners would like, but this year was different. The Sanctuary was full with folks even sitting in the balcony.

What was most interesting was the appearance of David. He showed up here an hour or so before the service. First, he went to the chapel for prayer. His presence was announced by someone who came rushing into my Disciple group to tell me someone was praying in the chapel. Of course, there was something special about David. He was a soldier, awaiting immediate deployment to Iraq. By the time I caught up with him, he had left the Chapel and was in the Sanctuary waiting on the service to begin. He told me, "I saw the sign out front and wanted to attend worship tonight. It will be my last opportunity to worship in the United States before going to Iraq later this week."

Now sometimes we plan worship thinking about all the folks who are going to come. We want to be ready and prepared for everyone. We think about the 300 and not just the one. After talking with David, I found myself thinking, "God thinks differently than us. He surely sees the value in offering something for just one." If someone had told us ahead of time, "Only one person is going to come," we would likely turn out the lights, lock the door, and declare it not worth the effort. Ah, but then there is God whom Jesus says is like the shepherd concerned for just one. More than just chance was operative this past Sunday afternoon. God was at work and decided to use us to care for just one who belonged to Him. Amazing!

Old Sermons

2009-11-29T10:17:00.004-05:00

Lately, I have been thinking about getting rid of some old sermons. I have not actually started throwing them away, but I have been thinking about it. Some would say that is movement toward a goal. I am not sure. The younger preachers will not face my dilemma as they are able to keep sermons on computer files. While I started using computer files back in Vidalia, i continued the practice of keeping hard copies. You know, things can get lost in computers. My problem is the 700-800 sermons I have either hand written or typed on hard copy in files in boxes in the closet. Surely, they are not all worth keeping. I am not sure what to do. Do I simply pick up each box and make my way to the dumpster? Or, do I read each one to see if it is a keeper? Or do I look at title and text and decide if it goes in the throw away pile or the keeper file? Maybe I should ask my family members to help me. It would probably not take them nearly as long as me. I know which pile would grow taller quicker.

It is, after all, not exactly something a child would want to receive as a part of the inheritance! Maybe I should do as my step-father did with his father's old sermons. He buried them. I suppose there is some merit to doing this. It would be like giving back to God what He had given. Of course, about some of them He likely would say, "I had nothing to do with that one!"

I guess it is up to me. Or, maybe you have some suggestions. If you do, I only would ask for adherence to two guidelines. One, be creative. Two, be kind.

Sermon in the Sack

2009-11-28T23:43:00.005-05:00

It has always been said that copying someone is the highest compliment. I am not sure such is always perceived as true. Few of my teachers along the way would have been excited about copied submissions when something original was what they had in mind. However, there are places where copying can be regarded as a compliment. Certainly, I hope such is true as I have been copying Bill Dupree now for over 40 years. Bill was the pastor at the Alma United Methodist Church when I went there years ago as a summer youth worker. His influence has been immeasurable over the years. He has always been such an encourager. When he did Children's Sermons, he would put an object in a brown paper sack, shake it around, ask the kids for guesses, and then pull out the object for a children's sermon. He called in a Sermon in the Sack. When I started doing Children's Sermons, I copied him. Still do. My children's sermons have always been called a Sermon in the Sack.

I thought about Bill and his idea as I started thinking about my Sermon in the Sack for tomorrow. Children's sermons are not as easy as they look. Gearing to a five year old's vocabulary is no easy task. Two or three minutes is about it. If what is to be said is not said in the briefest amount of time, the children's sermon turns into an exercise in how not to communicate. Those moments with children during worship have always seemed more about planting spiritual seeds than anything else. If a few have taken root, then I am more than blessed.

To be honest, only a few have been memorable. And to be even more honest is to admit the children and not me made memorable the ones that were. I can never forget the little girl at St. John who told us all one Sunday morning that her Momma was going to have a baby. Momma had not gotten around to telling the news herself and after the children's sermon was over, there was no need.

Anticipation

2009-11-25T22:50:00.006-05:00

Advent is about anticipation and waiting. Already I find myself anticipating and Advent is still a few days away. Tonight I found myself thinking about and looking forward to the Christmas Eve Communion services. Worship in that holy moment is such a powerful experience. As I go into every Advent season, I always do so with the intention of holding off as long as possible with the Christmas music. I do not want to sing or hear songs like "O Come, All Ye Faithful," or "Joy to the World" until the Christmas Eve worship begins. Over the years I have had more than one person in congregations get upset with me as I delayed introducing Christmas music into Advent worship as a way of trying to help others experience the anticipation and waiting.

What I have discovered over the years is that most folks are not interested in either the anticipation or the waiting. It seems to go along with our instant gratification culture. We tend to get what we want when we want it. It is not just our food that we want fast; we want everything yesterday. Such a mindset really undermines what Advent is trying to accomplish as it calls us to anticipate and to wait.

So, I will do as I always do during Advent. I will try to help folks experience the essence of Advent worship. I will turn off the radio when it is an all day menu of Christmas music in mid December. I will look forward to the celebration and try not to peek in before everything is ready. I will spend more time sitting and waiting in prayer time instead of talking and hurrying on to other things. I will try to find a different pace and pray that it helps prepare my heart to celebrate the wonderful reality that a Savior has been born to save you, me, and all of us.

Blooming...Again!

2009-11-18T10:00:00.008-05:00

I saw it yesterday. When I saw it, I stopped dead in my tracks. For just a moment I stood there amazed. The thing was blooming again! I had been so caught up with stuff that I had not even noticed that it was filling up with buds getting ready to bloom. So, once again this office plant caught me by surprise. Some unknown person sat it in my office long years ago while I was in Vidalia. It still is in the same pot. Actually, I should say it still suffers in the same pot for it gets very little sunlight in this office and even less watering. Somehow, it manages to survive. It is indeed a a testimony to tenacity. Some call it a Christmas Cactus, others call it a Thanksgiving Cactus. Me? I have decided over the years to call it an Advent Cactus because every year as Advent draws near, it starts blooming! I love it!

Like Advent, my cactus seems to announce as it starts budding and blooming that something is getting ready to happen. It is the visible reminder that I need to start getting ready. One of the great seasons on the Christian calendar is the season that is about to dawn upon us. Over the years people are always lamenting the early onset of a commercialized Christmas and declaring that we need to put Christ back in Christmas. We need to do something to remember the reason for the season. Interestingly, enough the church has always had this season which when properly observed accomplishes that very purpose. But, like the rest of the world, it is hard for us to wait. Once December comes we will be ready to start celebrating Christmas without wanting to go through a season of waiting and getting ready.

This Advent Cactus will not be in full bloom tomorrow or the next day, but it will happen. All I can do if I want to experience it fully is to wait. Advent invites us to a different pace of living. It calls us to anticipate and to wait. Neither of those things we do very well. But, when we wait for the curtain to draw on the Christmas scene instead of constantly looking under the curtain, we will surely experience surprising joy come Christmas.

Noah, Moses, and the Good Shepherd

2009-11-12T15:25:00.007-05:00

The three of them have sat on my desk now for a long, long time. The desk has changed, but their places remain the same. Moses and the Good Shepherd are bookends for a small selection of frequently used books. Moses looks like the stern receiver of the law of God. The Good Shepherd is a South American version brought home by a mission team and hardly looks Middle Eastern. Noah is different. Noah stands off to himself. He is the one of the three who has character. He carries a dove in one hand and an umbrella in the other. He is the colorful one of the three wearing a blue and white robe.

Of the three, Noah is my favorite. He is my reminder of the promises of God. Some hear the name of Noah and think "ark" or "flood" or "rainbow." Me? I think promise. God made a promise to Noah that remains unbroken. No surprise there. All His promises remain unbroken. When I find myself overwhelmed and unsure, old Noah is sitting there to remind me that I can trust God and His Word.

Over the years that single gift has reminded me many times that God can be counted on to be faithful. Even when I have no understanding, I still hang on to the reality of His faithfulness in keeping His Word. His promises have proven to be more than precious. They have proven again and again that they are the bedrock upon which we can stand at any and every moment of our life.

Devotions

2009-10-30T17:19:00.005-04:00

Like many, my first experience with the disicpline of a daily devotion came with my Mother. It was she who taught me to pray, not the Lord's Prayer, but the childhood prayer, "Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen." As I look back I realize that my first prayer was a frightening one. I guess it is a good thing I did not dwell too much on the part about not waking up, or I never would have gone to sleep! As I moved away from the memorized childhood prayers prayed at bedtime, I started including some Bible readings and a daily devotional like "The Upper Room."

It was at college that I found Oswald Chamber's "My Utmost for His Highest." It is the only book other than my Bible that had to be replaced because it suffered from being used, worn out, and falling apart. Just this past week I was reading one of Chamber's devotions again and found myself amazed at how it continues to be such a strong word for me after so many years of reading. If I could only have two books, one would be the Bible and the other would be this daily devotional book by Chambers.

Over the years one thing I have learned again and again is how important it is to have some time each day that is set aside and dedicated to God. When there is no time for being in the presence of God, life soon becomes unmanageable, people become more annoying, and my sense of God's presence in my life is blurred.

Tennille

2009-10-30T15:24:00.005-04:00

When I left the Stapleton Charge, I moved from Jefferson County to Washington County. While I served the Stapleton Charge one year after completing seminary, Tennille would be my first appointment at which I would not be known first as a student pastor. While I went to my second appointment full of optimism and hope, things did not go well and at the end of two years, I was on my way to another place. An issue arose, conflict followed, and being a young inexperienced preacher, I was ill prepared to handle those days. I was young, full of idealism, and saw myself as one armed with what was right. There was within me no spirit of compromise.

It was the formula for disaster which was what ensued. It took me a long time, much longer than it should have to accept my share of the responsibility for what happened. It took me longer to realize when I left Tennille that I carried an unforgivng heart to the next place. I still remember the day I heard about the misfortune of one of my antagonists from the past. I thought, "Good, he got what he deserved." It was then that I knew there was some spiritual work needed in my heart.

Forgiving is never an easy thing. If it was easy, it might not be the valuable thing that it is. Many years later God would provide an opportunity to go back to Tennille and it became a wonderful day of reconciliation. Of all the trips back to a former pastorate, I am most thankful for the trip back that day some years later when handshakes were shared, words of regret and sorrow were spoken, and memories of brokenness were replaced with a memory of reconciliation.

Settling

2009-10-30T10:41:00.006-04:00

I started reading a new Bruce Wilkinson book recently. It is entitled "You Were Born for This." Years ago after Wilkinson had written "The Prayer of Jabez," I attended a national evangelism meeting in Washington, DC where he was the keynote speaker. At that time I had intentionally made a choice not to read his book, but after hearing him speak for several hours over two days, I was greatly affected by the passionate faith in his heart. So, I read the Jabez book and everything he has written since that first small volume. While I am not sure faithful living can always be melted down to a few steps or keys, Wilkinson's books speak to me as they cause me to see how easy it is to settle for something less than what God desires to give to us. When I read his books, I am reminded how easy it is to settle for mediocre Christian living when God is calling us to something that speaks of extraordinary Christian living.

Some are critical of Wilkinson's stuff because it comes across at first glance as a "You do this and God will have to do this" approach to faith. However, instead of seeing it as an attempt to manipulate God, it has seemed to me that the author is saying that this life of faith is more about the faithfulness of God to keep His Word than mere human effort.

While I am only fifty pages deep into the book, already I have heard this message about settling. What Wilkinson says is not anything radical. He just reminds me through a different style of writing and presenting the gospel that it is easy for me to sell God short. When I am tempted to create some graven image in my mind or through my theology, it always seems to be a God who is less able, less powerful, less involved, and less willing than the One revealed to us in the Holy Word. The golden calf was a sign of a lack of trust. Selling God short by settling for less when He wants to do more in me and through me is no different.

God at the Door

2009-10-11T10:12:00.004-04:00

I will be honest and confess it. Sometimes Sundays are to preachers what Mondays are to many who start their work week. Today was one of those tough Sundays. In addition to two worship services and Disciple Bible Study, two administrative meetings were scheduled. Lately, it seems like it has been one meeting after another. The fall months can get to be a bit much on the administrative side as the church moves toward Charge Conference with all its attendant budget and leadership issues to be resolved. To say I did not get started with the best of attitudes today would be a fair thing to say.

As I was driving to the church, I found myself hurrying so I could sit down for our 8:30 am prayer time before worship. I knew I needed it and the way it tends to bring me into focus with a renewed spirit for the things that are before me. This morning as we prayed in the office, I could not help but hear and be a bit distracted by the noise of people murmuring and the rustling of papers on the other side of the slightly ajar door. But, it soon settled down and the prayer session continued without further distractions.

After my Sunday morning prayer partners left, I heard that same rustling of paper noise outside the door and in bounded someone loaded down with a pot of bright yellow flowers, a bag filled with goodies, and a balloon announcing, "We love you!" "It's Pastor Appreciation Day and we appreciate you!" she announced for herself and her two children. And then she was gone. I sat there for a moment more than a bit overwhelmed. God was at the door while we were praying and I am surely grateful He hung around to enter. It was indeed a much needed word of encouragement and blessing!