The Unthinkable

Unthinkable things happen.  The unthinkable things are the things which come suddenly with no option of preparation.  The only option is enduring and getting through to tomorrow.  My first encounter with the unthinkable came when I was seven years old.  In the midst of that year there came a day when my father did not come home, but instead people came to tell my mother, my sister, and myself that he had been killed in a fiery explosion when two Air Force planes collided.  There have been other unthinkable moments through the years.  Some have come to me and some have come to the people entrusted to my care as their pastor.      

I remember some of those unthinkable moments of pastoral care.  I remember thinking that such things were not the things for which I signed up when called.  But, not going was not an option and so I went.  I think about some of those folks in days of reflection.  I wonder how life has unfolded for them since the unthinkable days we shared.  And in those moments of remembering and reflecting, I often offer simple prayers for souls I do not expect to see again midst the unfolding of this life.    There is much about our living, our suffering, and our dying that we cannot understand.  

A very real part of the unthinkable moments are the questions that have no answers and the anger that such must be endured.   In the present part of such experiences such things are about all which can be seen, but as we begin to find some space between then and later and the horrible darkness and the impending light, there does come to us a strange awareness that we do not go through such moments alone.  Even in the midst of the unthinkable, the Spirit of God is near to take hold of those who need a hand to take them, to speak of love that cannot be overcome, and to give grace and mercy which stretches from here to the heavenly shores.  The questions we will never answer, the suffering we will never understand, but the God who proclaimed Himself long ago to be the great "I Am" still is and for this ever present presence I am most grateful in those unthinkable moments which come to all of us in some measure at one time or another.  

The Story of Faith

I am one of those who owes a debt to the church which is so great it can never be measured.  The church has had a hand in shaping my life even before I was born.  A small Methodist Church out in the middle of nowhere was a place which provided ministry for my mother as a young girl.   When I was growing up she was the one who made sure my sister and I went to Sunday School and to church.  And later when my father died, we returned to that same church and to its cemetery where he was buried.  Only as an adult did I find out that this small insignificant church was established on grounds given by a great grandfather a very long time ago.    

As I reflect back over my time of going to this family church as a boy, I am amazed at how stories that cannot be imagined unwind into a new reality.  There was a line of preachers who served that church and a countryside full of lay men and women who helped write the story that has had shaping power on my own life.  Of course, mine was not the only one shaped by their faithfulness, I am simply one of many.  None of them could have imagined how the things they did which might have been regarded as mundane sustained a church and enabled it to have an influence that reached far into the future.  

What we often forget in the day to day life of faith which seems filled only with the ordinary is that even as our story is being written it is becoming a part of a larger story that is being used by the Father to bring new life to His Kingdom.  In the midst of the ordinary, God has a way of doing extraordinary things.  The influence our faith is having is something to which most of us give no thought, but what is being done through our lives as a faith response is not lost on the One who has called us.  He is using the current part of our story as a means to writing a story which is being lived out in persons unknown to us.

The Old Days

When I think back to early preaching days, I cannot help but remember three very rural North Carolina Churches to which a Young Harris College friend and I would go.  It was an eight point charge and Harold and I went to one of the three churches each Sunday.  He would preach one Sunday and I would do it the next.  While I cannot figure how one preacher could be assigned responsibility for eight different churches, it happened back in days that are long past.  My first appointment in South Georgia was a three point charge and though the churches were small, it kept me busy being pastor and preacher to all three.  

The multi church assignment was a carryover from the days when Methodist preachers were known as circuit riders.  In the early days of Methodism the circuits might cover large areas with the preacher riding up once every few months.  It was then baptisms and weddings would take place as well as gatherings for preaching.  A church like the circuit riding church was more influenced by the frontier rural environment than a liturgical calendar.  It is also one of the reasons Methodist churches used to have holy communion quarterly with most folks thinking that was more than enough.  A worship service with communion was often not regarded as a preaching Sunday and a lot of folks would stay home.    

Of course, the church has changed greatly just in the years of my ministry.  When I started preaching most churches left the doors unlocked during the week, communion was served monthly normally on first Sunday, and there was what is remembered as a strong evangelistic spirit which invited its young to accept Christ and become servants in the world.   My memories are not about church politics although there were some, but about worship, altar calls, spirited singing that went on and on, and people who tended to stick around forever after the preacher said the benediction at the Sunday evening service.  I sometimes wish I could turn the clock back to those days, or at least to my memories of them.     

The Gentle Sleep

I often think about some lines Mrs. Evans had us memorize in English Lit class back in high school.  She introduced me to all sorts of stuff I had never dreamed of reading and some of it has lingered in my mind after all these years. One of those things remembered comes from Samuel Taylor Coleridge who wrote in "The Rime of  the Ancient Mariner,"  "Sleep, O Sleep, it is a gentle thing, beloved from pole to pole.  To Mary Queen the praise be given, she sent the gentle sleep from Heaven which slid into my soul."  Most of us have a different sleep experience than did the Ancient Mariner, but surely we count it as one of the great blessings of our life.  And our soul.     

It is obvious that it brings to us the blessing of restored strength and energy for the life that stretches before us.  It is not a waste of time as some workaholics might believe, but something necessary for the work entrusted to us.   But, even more so is it a time for exploring the things which are stirring inside of us through our dream life.  While some of our dreaming may seem more on the strange side, the dreams we have are more likely to reflect some of the unresolved issues which seem to defy understanding and resolution by our conscious mind.    

We do not often think of our dreams as blessings given to us by the Creator God.  When we were created, we were put together in such a way that a dream life becomes an inherent blessing.  Many of the Biblical stories place heavy emphasis on the reality of  dreams while sleeping.  As we grow older and move toward a more contemplative heart, we begin to understand that our dreams can be a way that God is speaking to us, leading us, and helping us move forward into what He has put in our path.  Some say that when we sleep the sleep of the night, the sub-conscious pushes the conscious aside and gives the Spirit more access to roam and care for the soul.

Preaching Thoughts

I suppose I preached a sermon or two before the one I often think of as my first, but if so, they have mostly disappeared somewhere in a section of my brain known as lost memories.  This first memorable sermon  was entitled "An Expectant Faith" with the text being James 1:6-8.  I was working as a summer youth worker in the Blakely Methodist Church in Blakely, Georgia.  The pastor was Clark Pafford who hired me to do youth ministry knowing I wanted to be a preacher.  So, he gave me opportunities to preach, but before I stood in the pulpit on Sunday morning, he insisted that I preach to empty pews on Saturday night.  Of course, they were not really empty as he was sitting in one of them.     

I have never forgotten the encouragement this man gave to me and have sought to repay him as only I could which was by trying to be an encouragement to the young preachers I would meet.  I also continued to preach to empty pews for the whole of my ministry.  Very few sermons were ever preached for the first time on Sunday morning because Sunday morning's sermon had been preached to the congregation of empty pews.  

It came to be a natural and necessary part of my sermon preparation over the span of my years of preaching.   It is one of the strange things about preaching that the oral part, the spoken part, the delivery part of the sermon is not the object of intentional preparation.  Preaching is not a written exercise even though it may be written before it is preached.  Instead, it is at its core a verbal means of communicating the gospel, or as some would dare to say, the Word of God.  From my old preaching mentor I learned that sermon preparation is not done until preparation for the spoken part is done as well as the exegetical work.  

The Rambling LIfe

While Luke 9:51 says, "When the days drew near for Him to be taken up, He set His face to go to Jerusalem," it is also true that Jesus mostly traveled in a way far different than we travel.  Of course, He walked which we do not, but it is also true that most of our travel is either destination or appointment oriented.  Seldom do we just set out to go.  When I was a boy, my mother would often load us up in the old Plymouth for a Sunday afternoon ride.  Sometimes we would head straight to the old home place and other times we would just ramble around the countryside before returning home.  We do not do much rambling anymore.  Jesus did a lot of rambling.    

To say Jesus rambled is to say His walking had nothing to do with getting to a meeting at a certain time, or arriving at a specific place before dark.  It is more like He just went and He invited others to go with Him in this rambling life style.  The reason we no longer ramble is that we are too busy.  Rambling and hurrying do not go together.  Our going is about getting there.  The destination and the speed of the journey is more important than the journey.  Thus, there is no unhurried movement from here to there.   

What this means is that we miss out on a lot that enriched the life of Jesus and those He encountered.  We are unable to hear the cries of those in need of mercy.  We do not really see the suffering ones, the broken lives all around us, and the growling stomachs of the hungry.  We miss out on the unspoken conversations we might have had with the people we do not see.  Of course, these thoughts are not a call to throw away our modern means of transportation, but to live with the attitude of this rambling Jesus of the gospels.  On His way from here to there, He had time for whatever which is the one thing we do not have with our hurry up and get there lifestyle.

Kingdom Work

A lot of ministry stuff is going on all around us, but like most Kingdom work it seems small in its presence and most of the time is invisible to the hurried eye.  A conversation or two in the last few days revealed a ministry of one man who is praying for the people of Ukraine and another enabled me to see a ministry of intentional encouragement taking place.  And, then there is a guy who is praying for a cancer sufferer and a group that works to make blankets to give to folks while they are receiving chemo treatment.  All around us the mustard seed work of the Kingdom of God is being done and it will most assuredly bear the fruit God had in mind when it started.    

None of these ministries require any kind of program and in most cases no funding.  Being made aware of what is going on for the sake of the Kingdom makes us wonder what it is that God is calling us to be about.  And, yes, surely His  plans for His work includes the unlikely likes of folks like you and me.  It is not enough for us to acknowledge what others are being called and enabled to do.  Instead of throwing accolades toward such faithful examples, we honor them best by looking to the Father God for our own unique instructions for Kingdom building.    

We must always remember that there is not a one of us too inconsequential to serve in this great world changing Kingdom work and neither is there anything done in His name for His purposes which is too small to be of any significance.  Jesus makes it clear that doing the big thing is not necessary to do the great thing.  Finding our place to serve Christ and one another while utilizing the gifts He has given to us in the place He has put us is never a small insignificant thing, but the thing which pushes the Kingdom of God forward in this troubled world in which we live.  

Plans for the Day

While we may be asked about our plans as we rise with the sun each morning, we must always remember our plans our simply plans.  Our plans do not guarantee the direction of the day.  Many a day has gone awry.  Days go awry not for a lack of plans, but because of a lack of understanding that we have no control over what might unfold in our lives within the course of the next movement of the sun across the sky.  The Old Testament character Job is a man whose life reveals this reality as does the successful farmer of the New Testament parable who planned to build bigger and better barns.  (Luke 12:13-21)    

This is not to say the Word of God is anti-planning.  Instead, it is about living with such a sense of dependence on self that it becomes impossible to realize that self-sufficiency is only an illusion.  What gets us through our carefully made plans is not the plans, but the grace and mercy of God.   If we live within any other reality, we are likely walking in the footsteps of the man regarded as a fool in the parable.  

Some years ago I overheard a woman in conversation with someone else saying that it was God who woke her up every morning and for His daily wake up call she was always grateful.  It was an earful and an eye opener for this guy who was listening in to what was being said.  I always had figured the alarm clock, or my body's schedule was what woke me up each day, but what she said was like a jolt to my spirit.  Our life each day from the first eye full of sunshine is all about God being at work to sustain the life He gave to us at the moment of our conception.  Plans are good.  They are important.  But, never be surprised that there are interruptions.

Here to There

It is about a half mile from here to there.  The way from here to there is a two rut dirt lane which meanders down the hill across culverts through which the runoff branch flows and then back up a gentle slope to the strip of asphalt which goes to town.  Trees line both sides of the dirt road creating a canopy of shade, cooler temperatures in the summer, and a wind tunnel for cold winds come winter.  It is a road often traveled.  There is no leaving the farm without paying homage to the way it provides.   

Late this afternoon I walked that road instead of taking the journey inside a closed up air conditioned vehicle.  It could be said that I passed along a familiar way without the hurrying of four wheels and without the isolation provided by closed windows.  What I did as I walked was enter into the world it offered, but one through which I normally pass through so quickly that I cannot see it, hear it, or know it.   The walking journey was slower and my immersion in the silence it provided enabled me to see the deer trail cutting through the trees, some bricks coming up out of the road that someone long ago had put out there to fill up a hole, and a squirrel scampering through dried leaves.   

And my ears were blessed with the sound of a shrieking high flying hawk, branch water gurgling and bubbling as it traveled, and fussing geese overhead.   I would have missed all of this had I made the journey as is my normal custom.  But, for a moment I was blessed by being able to enter into a silence that is always there even though it is not seen or heard when getting there becomes more important than being here.  As I walked from the road to the steps of the house, I found myself being made aware from somewhere deep within about the need to step into the sacred silence which always exists around me, but which I too often miss on my hurried way from here to there.  

Spiritual Expectations

Our language often reveals our expectations.  We talk about God being ever present with us, or about the way the Spirit dwells within us only to speak of our devotional time as our time with God.  If it is true that He is with us throughout the day, why is it that we speak of entering into His presence at certain set aside moments?   And then there is the language which speaks of God speaking to us; yet, when pressed a bit we are very shy about acknowledging that such might actually happen.  After all, none of us want to sound like some spiritual fanatic who actually goes through a day expecting to hear the voice of God.    

When we live with these diminished expectations we are, of course, living out of step with what the Word of God reveals about the way God reveals Himself and makes His voice heard in the creation and in our lives.  The Scripture reveals a God who shows up without any invitations, without any fanfare, and in the most ordinary and mundane moments.  It also speaks of a God who uses all sorts of things such as bushes, mountains, animals, and ordinary people as His voice.    

It is never an issue of God going in hiding, or drawing aside to dwell in silence, but an issue of not truly expecting daily manifestations of the holy in our midst.  We do not see and we do not hear the Holy because our ears are not tuned to what and Who is present all around us at every moment of our lives.  What we profess theoretically is not what we believe in the practical world in which we live.  There are those around us who tell us that if we expect the Holy, we shall surely see and we shall surely see.  Someone much further along the spiritual road than any of us once said, "Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you..."  (Matthew 7:7).  Good words for sure, but are we ready to finally take them seriously when it comes to knowing intimately and constantly the Holy One who walks with us?

Praise Him, Moon.

I could not help myself.  The day was near about done.  The sun had slipped away leaving soft colors all around.  I was on my way to the house in what has become my favorite time of the day here on the farm when I looked up and saw that full moon putting on a spectacular show in the not yet darkened sky.  Without hardly missing a beat I spoke loudly some verses of Scripture I had put to rest in my mind only a few days earlier.  "Praise Him, sun and moon; praise Him, all you shining stars!  Praise Him, you highest heavens, and you waters above the heavens!"  (Psalm 148:3-4)     

It is not hard to understand how men and women of days gone by might see such a glorious moon and speak of it in godly terms, or at least, dance for joy under its rising glow.  For this twenty-first century guy seminary trained to be orthodox in theological understanding and not to enthusiastic in worship, it was a moment of spontaneous worship which seemed as natural as both the moon and the earth.  To take the Word of the Scripture seriously is to realize that my words of praise were only joining into a stream of praise already present as the rising moon filled the sky with an expression of praise too resounding for human ears to hear.   

Ah, this Creator has put in place a marvelous work, one which not only bears the imprint of His holy hands, but one which from its inception has within it innate forms of praise.  As wonderful as it is to gather in the sanctuary with others and lifting up voices together in praise, there is something which transcends such a moment as we stand midst the creation and join in the unending praise which is sounding forth toward heaven all around us.  

Quite a Mystery

Planting a garden is walking midst mystery.   I was reminded of this after yesterday's work in the freshly turned dirt.  When the last of the potatoes were covered, I thought about the mystery that was beginning to unfold under my feet.  The potato cuttings were like the lettuce seed planted in seed cups and put aside while waiting for the seed to become seedlings to be planted.  Gardening is about working, but it is also about waiting.  It is about waiting for divine mystery.  There is nothing more we can do when the seed is cast in the dirt, but wait on God to do His unique and mysterious work.   

The sense of mystery is something we largely live without in our normal living.  Maybe the loss of mystery has to do with our disconnect from dependence on the dirt, or maybe we fall prey to the false idea that whatever happens is a result of our hard work, or maybe we get so busy going from one thing to another that there is no time to stand for even the briefest of moments and ponder the mystery which is present and unfolding in all that we do.   

Harder than work is waiting.  Waiting seems like such a waste when there is so much to do.  But, the reality is that the more there is to do, the more the need for the discipline of waiting.  Waiting is like pushing the pause button on our life for a moment of seeing and knowing that life is not all about us, but is instead something lived in partnership with our Creator.  He is the One who put us in the midst of His creation and He has not put us where we are to forget us, but to bring about the change of growth in our lives.  Always He is at work within us to bring us to a point where our inner being and our living reflects not our own disposition, but the heart and spirit of Jesus which is surely quite a mystery. 

The Push Plow

Even though the traditional gardening calendar calls for planting potatoes on Valentine's Day, it was a day too filled with other things to get to the garden.  But, today was different.  I got out the old push plow, busted open some rows, dropped those sulfur covered potato cuttings in the dirt, and covered them up with a push of dirt from the boot.  I have been pushing a push plow since the first parsonage and the first garden some fifty years ago.  As I was pushing through the dirt today, I remembered those gardens and Jesus saying, "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the Kingdom of God."  (Luke 9:62)      

He might have also said, "No one who puts and hand to the plow and looks back will break a straight furrow."  It was something I learned a long time ago after finishing up a row and looking back to see one as crooked as a snake trailing off behind me in the dirt.  To plow a straight furrow it is necessary to look out there ahead where the furrow is to end.  Looking at the place where the plow breaks the dirt open, or looking a few feet ahead of the plow means a rambling crooked row.  The straight furrow comes from not being distracted by what is close at hand and pushing on with single mindedness toward the goal out there at the end of the row.    

Surely, there is a lesson about living out there in the garden where the push plow is working in the dirt.  We need to keep our eye on the goal of Home instead of all the tempting things around us which promise blessings in life.  The Apostle Paul had it right when he wrote, "...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..."  (Philippians 3:13-14)   Looking forward to where God is leading is the way intended for those of us who are walking the road with the Christ.  To look in any other direction is to risk losing our way.  

Sitting with the Word

There are times when it is good to just sit with the Scripture.  Sitting with it does not require reading, it just requires sitting in its presence.  Maybe it is a moment for just sitting and holding it unopened in our hands and remembering the way it has been a spiritual companion and guide for the whole of our spiritual journey.  While the book we hold in our hands today may not be the very same one we first picked up to read as a beginning believer, the Words within it are the same.  Perhaps, it is a different version than the one from days past, but what we hold in our hands today marked as Holy Scripture is the same Word of God today as it was yesterday.    

So, as we take a minute, or most likely longer, to sit with the Scripture in our hands, we will begin to remember blessings.  We are likely to remember the blessings received as a child who read for the first times the wonderful stories of people like Abraham, or Noah, or Moses, or Ruth, or King David.  And as we consider this journey of contemplation we are going to smile with such joy as we remember how the Psalms have enriched our lives, gotten us through more one rough spot, and been like an ever flowing spring of living water.   Indeed, we have been blessed!   

Of course, each one of us is going to be walking a different path of remembrances as we sit with this holy book.  There are the powerful stories of Jesus, the thought provoking sentences of the Apostles, and the words of hope in those passages about what is ahead for us as the journey is done.  To sit with the Scriptures for a bit is to be blessed all over again.  And for every blessing, there will soon come forth a Word of praise.  It should be no surprise that when we put the Word is back on the shelf that we get up with a heart filled with gratitude and praise.  

Not Privileged, but Blessed

As I remember my choices for college long years ago, I know some might say I was privileged.  Young Harris College and Asbury College were places I attended and both were private institutions.  This, of course, meant they were more expensive than a state funded school.  I never thought to much about the cost in those days, but as I have gotten older I am amazed that my parents made a way for me to attend these schools when it could have been a whole lot easier to go somewhere else.  To grow up in a Methodist parsonage in those days was not a formula for financial prosperity.  But, their frugality and faithfulness, my working, and the blessing of God made it happen.      

I was not then a privileged person, but as I have been all my life, a blessed person.  Both of the colleges I attended were chosen because it seemed to me at that point in my faith journey to be the leading and direction of God for my life.  Perhaps, that statement seems too bold and mostly an outrageous view of the way God leads, but I will hold to it, nonetheless.  One of the things we often underestimate is the provision of God.  One thing He always does when He calls and leads is to make a way to go the way He leads.     

This is not to say that divine provision always makes it easy.  Divine provision does not mean more than enough, but enough.  The 16th chapter of Exodus tells us the story of the collection of manna in the wilderness.  The Hebrews were told to "Gather as much of it as each of you needs..."  (Exodus 16:16).  Their instructions were to gather enough for one day, not several days or for the rest of the week.  The daily provision was a reminder to them that God could be trusted for their needs today and then, one day at a time.  It is a reminder we need to hear often for it is easy for us to live as if tomorrow's provisions for life is about us and not about God's blessing.

Unknown Witnesses

When I went to Asbury College back in 1968, I was not just a border line skeptic, but one with credentials.  For one who had such a powerful moment of beginning with Jesus my last year in high school, I had taken a hard turn away from the way I had set out.  Maybe it works that way for many of us, but there was not much about me in those days which would make Jesus smile.  Yet, I had not thrown away faith in Christ, I was just a lousy Christian.  Somehow those two words do not seem compatible, but it describes how life was in those days.    

I arrived at Asbury determined that none of the spiritual life of the school would touch me.  But, it was also in those days that I was blessed with the ministry of some men who touched my heart.  J. Edwin Orr came to preach a revival and began to open up my heart to the work of the Holy Spirit.  E. Stanley Jones came preaching with a contagious spirit and three fingers lifted in the air to communicate, "Jesus is Lord!"  And a gospel singer named Doug Oldham came and sang with such a powerful spirit that I carry around his songs and voice to this day.  There were others, but these stand out as those whom God used to begin the work of shaping my heart to receive what He wanted to do in my life.     

To remember these men who never spoke to me personally, but ministered powerfully to my heart makes me wonder if there are those out there in my past who caught a hint of the presence of Jesus through my life and ministry.  I pray such happened, but then we all have that hope.  What is true for most of us is that the influence we might have had on someone in terms of their faith in Christ is mostly unknown.  It worked that way for us as we moved down the road of faith and surely there are those on the road somewhere behind us who remember our name and witness with a portion of the gratitude that we have for the saints who have touched us, shaped us, and enabled us to move on toward a deeper relationship with Christ.  

An Early Leading

It has been a long time since Asbury College.  There are a few things in my life which I believe bear the imprint of the leading of the Holy Spirit and this decision so long ago was one.  I knew, or at least sensed this in my spirit before going, but the truth is that I did not want to go.  I knew it was a college that would provide a liberal arts education and that it was also a place which provided a strong spiritual environment.  The education part sounded ok, but I was not really excited about the spiritual stuff.  

So, with all the wisdom of a twenty year old graduate of a junior college, I made my decision not to go to Asbury.    Instead I went to Georgia Southern College which is just down the road from where I now live.  It was one of the best academic quarters of my college days.  I enjoyed the courses and made an "A" on all three courses.  But, I was miserable inside.  I knew I belonged somewhere else.  I knew I was disregarding what I  believed to be the leading of God.  It was truly my "Jonah in the belly of a big fish" experience.  I knew what God wanted and chose another way.   

At the end of that Spring Quarter at Southern I put in my application to Asbury, was accepted in the summer, and went kicking and screaming that fall quarter.  I went determined to get my degree without being affected by all that spiritual stuff.  It did not happen as I planned.  It took awhile, longer than it should have, but finally like the prodigal son, I came to my senses.   It was one of those moments of leading I have been ever grateful I did not miss.  I am thankful God was patient with a young man who was convinced he knew better than God what was best for his life.  My faith journey really began in earnest in those years and even though the road I have walked has not always been the one He has laid out for me, He has been merciful, kind, forgiving, and full of grace.  Those years at Asbury were important ones for more reasons than I can list.  They shaped my life at an important time and I always look back with no regret, but only thanksgiving.  

The Big Question

As the years start adding up, it is an easy thing to look back and think about how things might have been done differently.  In the few clergy conversations I have in these days, it is a common subject.  We tend to look at how things are being done, express some thoughts about how it could be done differently, and then go our way feeling a bit smug about how we know a better way.  "If I was doing it, this is how I would do it," is a rather common refrain.   Of course, this is not something that is limited to old preachers.  No matter how we have lived our lives, we do sometimes think about how we would do it better if we were doing whatever again.     

What we know is there are no do-overs in life.  Perhaps, we could do it better if we were able to turn back the clock and live a time again, but there are no guarantees.  For sure there are no do-overs.  What does exist is an opportunity to look forward instead of backwards.  We have no power to change the past, but we have ample means to change the present and the future.  If we truly believe God does not throw us away simply because we reach a certain age, then just maybe there is something we can do for the purposes of the Kingdom in the days still left to us.    

An often quoted verse of Scripture is Jeremiah 29:11 which says, "For surely I know the plans I have for you...to give you a future with hope."  The Word does not have a time limit on it.  Nor does it have a health requirement.  It is simply a Word which assures us that as long as we are breathing, God has a purpose for us.  Therefore, the big important question is not about what we might do differently in the past if do-overs were possible, but what we are willing to do for the sake of Christ if He continues to bless us with days and months and even years to come.  

The Seasons

Winter has not turned lose its hold.  I was reminded of this yesterday as I got out the chainsaw, cut some wood from a fallen oak tree, and used the ax to split and make it ready for the wood stove.  A warm fire is a blessing on a late winter chilly night.  And then, today I rolled out the garden tiller and turned the dirt where the garden will be planted.  What precipitated this work was the upcoming Valentine Day.  February 14 is for lovers, but it is also the traditional planting date for red seed potatoes.  So, with winter still upon us, Spring is sending out signals that it is on its way.     

While there are four distinct seasons on the calendar, it is often difficult to tell when one season has completely gone and been replaced by another.  Late freezes have taken out more than one early crop and an early Spring tempts the one eager to plant to plant too early.  In the midst of one season, another shows up blurring the lines between the end of a cold winter and a warm Spring.   Seldom does the changing season obey the suggestions of the calendar on the table.    

All of this speaks to the seasons of our life.  One may seem to end with another beginning, but it is mostly true that the lines between the end of the hard times and the beginning of the better times are blurred.  Actually, the difficult seasons are usually not viewed as past until we finally move far enough away from them to see them in our distant past.  The Word tells us "...there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven..."  (Ecclesiastes 3:1). Good times come and bad times come.  Jesus pointed out in the Sermon on the Mount that none of us have any exemption from this rule of life. In the midst of all the difficult seasons and the better seasons and even in the in between moments when we are not sure whether it is mostly good or bad, we are not alone.  God is with us in all the seasons.     

Join in Praise

 Our view of the Creation puts us in the center position.  Or, to put it another way, we mostly see our place within the Creation as being in the spotlight on center stage.  In other words, our view of the Creation is all about us.  It exists for us.  Or, to be more specific, we might even say it exists for me.  After all it gives me food, it gives me air, it gives me the physical materials needed for all my important stuff, a shelf full of natural resources, and underground reservoirs full of water ready for me to access by turning on the faucet.  Maybe all of this is on the exaggerated side, but the reality is that there is enough truth within it for most of us to feel just a tad bit of discomfort.   

The last few chapters of the Psalms open up a brand new window for most of us to see the Creation.  Once we see the view provided by those chapters, we cannot look at the world around us the same anymore.  Oh, we may go back to our old view, but once we see and understand what those chapters are telling us, the word has already been spoken and cannot be unspoken.  We can no longer live as if we do not know.    

What the Word tells us, particularly in the 148th Psalm is simple and profound.  If the last human couple on earth breathed their last and there were no more,  God would continue to receive praise from the Creation.  "Praise Him, soon and moon; praise Him, all you shining stars...Let them praise the name of the Lord for He commanded and they were created..."  (Psalm 148:5-6)  This world in which we live exists not just for us.  He exist to bless its Creator and to bring praise constantly before Him.  When we offer our own voices in praise to God, our Creator and the Creator of the universe, we are simply joining in that stream of praise which has always been and will always be.  And so, with every other living thing and with every thing that is, let us say, "Praise the Lord!"  

An Unexpected Source of Praise

Some look around at the Creation which surrounds them and only see rocks that have no voice, a sun and moon which simply exist as a part of the spinning universe, or dirt that is waiting on a covering of concrete to give it meaning.  The Scripture surely takes us in a different direction.  For some it is such a surprising direction that it seems like insanity to embrace it.  The 148th Psalm is one of those sections of Scripture which truly stretches the pragmatic mind beyond anything which is acceptable.  To consider the possibility that the inanimate can offer praise to God as surely as can the human tongue is simply too much.     

Yet, in that Psalm we read such words as, "Praise Him, sun and moon; praise Him, all you shining stars; Praise Him, you highest heavens, and you waters above the heavens."   (Psalm 148:3-4)  What the Word appears to be doing is directing the inanimate to praise God.  Surely, such is not possible for what has no tongue, nor a breath to exhale in praise to the Creator.  But, the Creator of these things of Creation is actually speaking to them calling them to give praise to the One whose hands shaped them and put them in their place in the world.  

If such is true, then when we enter into acts of praise to our God, we are only entering into, or joining in a stream of praise which not only exists in the present moment, but has existed since the beginning days of Creation.  It is indeed something which challenges the mind so content with its lesser and more logical pursuits.  It makes us wonder if we have been missing something so much a part of the Creation.  Are we deaf and unseeing?  Are we so out of step that we are unable to entertain as possibility what is holy reality?  Perhaps, we are not really paying attention to the praise rising all around us.  

Every Day Blesses

Every day is a day of blessing.  Yes, everyday.  Certainly, there are some days when it seems that such a word is nothing but a lie; yet, its reality still remains.  We may have to go to the edge of the darkness which seems so pervasive, but if such a journey is what is required, then to the edges we go.  It is not the edges contains the silver lining which we are told is always in the worst of things, but that on the edge we are able to see the things which refuse to be seen in the depths of the darkness.    Being thankful in the midst of adversity is sometimes about starting where it is easiest to see and slowly moving back where the darkness is the darkest.     

Out there on the edges of our difficulties and darkness are people who care about us, people who are ready to offer prayers, and people want to give the practical expressions of kindness which is within their ability to offer.  They bless our lives even when our senses our dulled and we are ready to declare that no one cares.  Out there on the edge of our darkness the memories of better days when the darkness was not upon us linger.  Remembering them is a blessing for they connect us to the reason we prevail when we want to quit.    

But, the most important thing we are able to see on the edges of our darkness is Holy Presence.  He has not forsaken us.  Actually, He is in the midst of the deep darkness of our life working to bring us through to the place where we can see the light again, have hope once again, and know that our life is not determined or defined by the darkness in our life.  There has always been more to our living than the things which seem impossible to overcome and whatever name the current darkness bears is included in this divine reality.  Every day is a blessing because we are not alone.  God has put others in our lives to stand with us and He, too, stands there in the midst of whatever horror seems to be unfolding just as He was that day on Golgotha.  

The Last Psalm

The first Bible I ever read was my father's Gideon pocket New Testament.  It is one of those which also included the book of Psalms.  After his death I found it midst his stuff and to a seven year old boy it became like treasure.  I still have it tucked away in a drawer and from time to time hold it for a few minutes in my hands.   As a young man midst the horror of a war, I imagine it was something he picked up and read from time to time.  And, like most people who find themselves looking for help in troubling times, it is easy to see him reading some of the Psalms.     

The Psalms have always been special to those who are hungry for the presence of God.  The words are timeless. Many of us learned the 23rd Psalm from our Mother before we could hardly read.  The ancient saints who lived in deserts, on the edge of wild places, and in huts and cells had high regard for these writings of David and often spent large amounts of time copying the Psalms.  Even today it is not an uncommon thing for those who read the Bible daily to include one of the Psalms as a part of their disciplined reading.   

A few days ago I found myself turning to those holy pages in a moment of quietness.  For some reason I decided to begin reading at the end instead of the beginning which brought me to some powerful words of praise.  It is not only an easy Psalm to memorize quickly, but one which tells us that praise is more than calmly speaking the words which are used in praise to God.  This last Psalm of the collection reminds us that praise should be as effusive as shaking tambourines and dancing (Psalm 150:4) and as extravagant as praising God not just with clanging cymbals, but with loud clashing cymbals (Psalm 150:5).  For those of us who worship nailed to our pews and who insist hands belong in the pockets, maybe there is a word here about turning loose and letting ourselves move with enthusiasm and energy into the stream of praise already in place according to the Word which says, "Let everything that breathes praise the Lord!"  (Psalm 150:6)

Encouragment

I must admit that when preaching every Sunday, it was better to have someone walk by me at the front door and say, "Enjoyed the sermon, Preacher," instead of "Worst sermon I ever heard."  And in the same spirit, I must confess to needing to hear from time to time that someone is actually reading these blog postings.  It helps on those mornings when I ponder the possibility of having written the last one.  This morning a friend from a former parish called me before I got to stirring and told me that a recent blog meant a lot to him.  And, then, there was a note a few days ago from a former Minister of Music who told me she was sending them to her choir members each morning.      

I have decided to keep on writing.  At least for a spell.  Once again my congregation's face took shape in front of me.  I am grateful for their encouragement as well as the many other such expressions received from time to time.  Encouragement is a blessing.  It blesses to enable people to continue with whatever it is that they are doing.  It blesses to know what is being done touches people in an important part of their lives.  It blesses to know that God is still finding those who sometimes seem exhausted as being useful to Him for a small measure of His Kingdom' work.    

One of the things I have learned in these years of being around here in the midst of the Creation is the way awareness of blessings makes us more grateful.  Surely, one of the reasons we fail to live with constant gratitude has to do with the way we hurry through life without a mindfulness to what is happening around us.  What is happening around us is that we are walking in an ever flowing stream of blessings.  Even in those moments when it seems we are walking against a strong current seeking to pull us under, we are surrounded, even overwhelmed, with blessings provided by the Spirit who dwells within us as well as through the people He is constantly putting out there ahead of us to encounter on the journey.  

The Struggle

It seems doubtful that the institutional church with its institutionally minded leaders will be able to create a new community of faith that will end up being something different than the institutional church it has become.  Something so entrenched in itself and so dependent on physical things such as money, building, and bigger memberships will have a hard time throwing away the old wineskins.  No matter how hard the effort to create something new, the temptation to utilize what is believed to have worked in the past will be hard to overcome.     

In our day it seems that the church requires some kind of structure and some kind of vessel through which to express itself.  The problem is in boxing something which cannot be boxed.  The church is a spiritual kingdom.  Putting something spiritual within some kind of structure is like expecting  a river to flow without ever getting out of its banks.  Even as God is unpredictable and always doing things which are outside the box made by our expectations, so is this kingdom which Jesus inaugurated with His presence.  We have tried since the day after Pentecost to package, program, and plan it.  Regardless of our efforts it still flows around us as an invisible and ever present spiritual community centered on Christ.  How do you hold something such as the church in your hand?  How do you control it?  The answer is simple.  It cannot be held or controlled for it is of God.       

Therein, it seems is our struggle.  We want so much to make it right that we have lost the spiritual insight required to turn it loose and trust its Creator to unfold it before us according to His design.  We have been taught for so long that God needs a hand in building His Church in the world that we cannot turn it loose, let it go, and forget about trying to domesticate or control it.  Such tasks belong not to us, but to the Holy Spirit.  Nothing is more frightening to the church's leaders than not being in control.  May God help us for it is exactly His help that we need.       

The Institutional Idol

As my denomination draws closer to an impending split between two groups unable to reconcile differences, there is much talk in the more conservative circles about the birth of the new church.  While I am not sure how new it will be, it will be different.  There is talk about an improved version, but the great danger is that there will be superficial changes made and then everything will be packaged in the old box.  This will mean that the new church will be like the old church minus the things which the new church is so against.   

Very recently my personal devotional life has taken me to the Matthew passage about the danger of putting new wine into old wineskins.  The bottom line is that it will not work.  According to Jesus new wine requires new wineskins.  It is a passage that is easy enough to understand, but one that is hard for us to bring into existence.  Thinking in that direction is hard and knowing how to work in that direction is an intellectual impossibility for many of today's leaders.  We could go on doing what we have done in the past which is taking the new and taking the life and power out of it so it will continue to fit inside the way the church does ministry.      

Of course, I am retired.  I am one of those worn out Methodist preachers who is no longer in the fray.  To use a local expression, it might be said I no longer have a dog in that hunt.  But, it is also true that the distance granted by retirement gives a different perspective.  The look back is sometimes filled with regret that the institutional part of the church became more important than the spiritual life of the church.  The institutional church is a hard idol to throw off the altar and when we do, we remember too easily where we put it.  If there is a new spirit within the new church, it will not last long in that old institutional holding wineskin.  

The New Wineskins

As I found myself being drawn toward that passage about new wine requiring new wineskins (Matthew 9:17),  I felt a need to run to the commentary for language about wine is like reading another language.  I have no experience with wine.  Well, actually there was a time when I was a young preacher and had some wine every month for two years.  The occasion for drinking wine was Holy Communion.  The Tennille United Methodist Church, unlike most churches, had a long standing tradition of using wine instead of grape juice for Communion.  But, it was no ordinary wine.  As the communion steward often said, "It is imported from the Holy Land."     

So, being such a novice when it comes to wine, what I might surmise about wine and wineskins may not be absolutely accurate.  What I figure is that new wine has to have room for continued fermentation, or growth; thus, the old wineskins would burst under the pressure.  New wineskins would have more flexibility and could handle the chemical change taking place with the new wine.  While research may reveal a more detailed explanation, the simplicity of my suppositions works for me.    

In the broadest sense Jesus was surely talking about this new message we know as the gospel and the way it could not be contained within the old religious structures.  It was new and would require new ways of thinking, new ways of being, and a new way of understanding the way people were to live with one another.  The Kingdom of God which He preached would require something more than the Temple and the old ways it caused people to embrace.  Something so new was happening nothing would ever be the same.

When God Speaks

 When God speaks loudly

      as in the other night,

        it is like the elements

         colliding and crashing

           to bring into being

an echoing sound of silence.  

Echoing here and there,

    earthshaking thunder, 

       illuminating lightning,

         and a soul shaking voice

           that stirs the night

and sends sinners to their knees.

Always grace and more grace

    gives us ears to hear 

       what cannot be heard,

          the voiceless holy one

            who speaks in power

declaring presence and the way.