The Way Home

Dear heart of mine

   which thinks of what should be

      instead of what really is.

        I thank you for caring 

          for all the memories

            which come from the past

and seek a home in the present.

O Keeper of stored treasures,

    it is time to turn the pages,

     to find the blank white ones

       ready now to tell, not the old,

         but the new stories, not written,

           out there, but still not seen,

those taking root with a spirit of hope.

O Lover of my soul,   

    my long time Comforter,

      the One who leads on the road

        walked now for more years

          than could ever be counted,

             never causing an aimless step,

know of my heartfelt gratitude.

Father God, Savior of my soul,    

    from before the days of darkness

      in the womb, You planned for me

        and now Your plan still unfolds

           into the days and months,

             the years unknown to me,

but known by You as You take me Home.

Preaching Again

Some time ago the folks up at the Zoar Church which was one I served back in the beginning days of ministry asked me to preach.  Fifth Sunday was coming and the preacher, as is often typical in some of the small rural churches, had off on those fifth Sundays that come each year.  Those folks probably did not know that I had not preached anywhere in several years.  I may not remember what to do.  Or,  I may try to make up for a long hiatus from the pulpit and preach an extremely long, long sermon.  Or, who knows?  I may be so rusty that the sermon will be as exciting as watching an old man getting up off the floor.   

All I can say is that the preparation has been done.  It was not as easy as it used to be.  When I was preaching regularly my mind worked to prepare a message that would last 20-30 minutes and for the past forever all I have been doing is preparing a three paragraph blog.  I suppose I could preach a three paragraph sermon which might be a hit with those who will be eager to hear the benediction and get into the fried chicken which will be waiting in the fellowship hall.  I remember my first sermons at the Zoar Church back in the early '70s.  I would preach for what seemed like forever and then look at my watch to see that ten minutes had barely passed.  If I pulled that kind of sermon out of the hat, not too many would mind!    

The truth is I look forward to an opportunity go be in the pulpit again.  I have always believed and still do that preaching is one of the most important roles to be fulfilled by the spiritual leader or preacher of any congregation.  I am not saying that the other parts of the worship service are unimportant, but neither am I ready to delegate preaching to something which is of little consequence.  Preaching is about that moment when the Word of God is proclaimed.  It is that moment when the written Scripture is given a voice.  God called me long ago to be one of those voices and I shall never take it lightly.  

Thoughts at 75

When you reach 75 you have different things in view than you did at 25.  At least such seems to be the way things are over this way in these days.  I reflect on this reality from time to time as I see two things sitting on my desk which would never have found such a home many years ago.  One is a plaque with some words from a poem written by Byron Herbert Reece.  This stone gift reads, "There never was time for everything."  Some who know about it tell me it is too pessimistic, but I think not.  In some ways it points to the importance of the second desk top message.     

The second word on the desk is a white mug gifted to me some time ago which has two words written boldly in black print.  The two words were given to me in a moment  a few years into retirement.  I was kneeling in the garden doing its work when I heard from within me two words I immediately knew came from God.  ""Pay Attention," He said quietly in my spirit.  The words on the mug stare at me every day and remind me of what is important in the present moment of my life.    

Fifty years ago there seemed to be no end to the unlimited possibilities which stretched out ahead of me.  Nowadays things are seen differently.  The time is marked with the letting go of some of the things I have carried with me for a long time and a realization that the way forward is found in the present moment.  The present moment  is the place from which God offers direction and guidance into a future filled with boundaries imposed by the limited number of years left.  I want to "make the most of the time..."  (Ephesians 5:16) which is done best by paying attention to the present instead of the past or the future.

The Place of the Evening Breeze

If you want to see the glory of a morning sunrise, you must get up before light hits the sky.  If you want to know about the crashing waters hitting the sand at the edge of here and there, you must go to the shore and stand in the surging waters.  If you want to see life coming forth fresh in the Spring, you must stand on the ground where the seed has been cast in the dirt. If you want to exprerience and know holy revelation in the day, you must walk in the Garden.   

The ancient story of the Garden in Genesis enables us to know that we are to live with the expectation that God is as near as "the time of the evening breeze."  (Genesis 3:8)  Here in a very familiar story we are reminded that God intentionally chooses to reveal Himself.  He chooses to reveal Himself to those who wait faithfully as He did on many days during the span of time the Garden of Eden couple walked in the Garden, but He also comes to those who mistakenly choose a way other than faithfulness.  He is faithful to come even in those moments when our lives speak mostly of unfaithfulness.  

So, we ask ourselves, "Where is this Garden where God chooses to walk at the time of the evening breeze?"  The answer is simple.  It is everywhere for everywhere is where God is present.  The Psalmist wrote, "If I ascend to heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, You are there. If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farther limits of the sea, even even there Your hand shall lead me..." (Psalm 139:8-10)  There is no forest too thick, no street too busy, no town so obscure, no place so insignificant for God to be present with both the power and the desire to reveal Himself. If we want to see and know Him, we must simply sit in the present moment and wait for it is always in the present that God chooses to walk.

A Word from Ecclesiastes

The Sunday School class had labored for weeks, or longer, working its way through the seldom read Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes.  In the final session at which I was a visitor, it seemed that the verdict on the ancient writing was framed inside wondering why such a depressing and confusing writing was included in the holy Scripture.  As an unprepared visitor who had not read the writing in years, I really had nothing to offer to the common opinion so I listened without much comment.    

However, the Sunday conversation did send me home wondering if there was anything to preach besides the 3rd chapter which begins with "For everything there is a season..."  In this questioning mode I read some of the second chapter which contained the lament, "I hated all my toil which I had toiled under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to those who come after me-and who knows whether they will be wise or foolish?" (vs. 18).  As one who has worked on a farm for thirteen years, has a love affair with the land, and wonders what will happen to it when I am gone, I can identify with the lament of the writer.    

And as I looked for the Word of God in this difficult passage, I came to the 24th verse of that chapter which said, "There is nothing better for mortals than to eat and drink, and find enjoyment in their toil."  While some might read these words to be hedonistic, they could also speak to God calling us to pay attention to the present without worrying about the future.  It is not hard to remember Jesus saying something about this very issue.  So, here in the midst of this word which seems to be declaring that nothing matters, there is a word which reminds us that living in the present moment is the thing which is pleasing to God.  Next time I return to the class, I will report one more good preaching text.  And who knows?  There may be even more.

The Uncomfortable Word

At the sanctuary door, I have stood

   not once, but a thousand times

     to hear the final thoughts and words

       of the leaving ones as they rush

         from the Holy Table and the Word

           to the table where private words 

are spoken about the one who spoke the Word.

At that listening post, I have heard 

   ear tickling words, "Great sermon today!"

      and just before pride puffed up the ego

           to the point of breaking, there came

               one with a frown and the words, 

                 "You stepped all over my toes,"

causing me to wonder if too much was said.

Walking away from that place, I remembered

     those stepped on toes put food on my table,

       a roof over my head, and clothe my little ones

         with a check freely given in the passed plate

            Sunday after Sunday and then some more,

              and what happens if the pain is too great,

will I be moving from here to another place there?

When the table at home is cleared, I wonder 

     about this gospel which steps on toes, 

       making people frown and be uncomfortable, 

         not just any people, but people of power,

           purse power, over me and all of mine

             raising for me the question, ""Dare I do it?"

"Dare I preach again that uncomfortable Word?"

The Controversial Wesley

It would be a mistake to think that the Wesleyan movement which began in the 18th century with John Wesley was empty of controversy.  While Wesley became a revered spiritual spokesman and leader, there were times during his life when he was an unpopular preacher.  As an ordained Anglican priest who found fault with the organized church of his day, it is not surprising that almost all Anglican pulpits were closed to him.  Only a small handful gave him opportunities to preach.    

There were numerous things which caused controversy to swirl around him, but one was his reviving the Love Feast and Watch Night Services.  There were rituals in the Anglican tradition for these services, but they had long been neglected.  Also, at some of his preaching events there were "embarrassing" responses from some of the freshly converted.  Wesley further upset the ecclesiastical apple cart by permitting lay speakers to preach.  And, of course, the early Methodist movement provided controversial social ministries such as free schools, dispensaries, and other services to the forgotten poor.     

John Wesley, the 18th century father of Methodism, was not someone bound by the "this is the way we have always done it" mentality.  Neither was he afraid of church authorities who sought to control those who served and worshipped.  His mind and spirit was guided by loving God and a desire to express that love through expressions of love for the least, the lost, and the forgotten.  He was a man who brought together piety and service, experience and tradition, common sense and striving toward perfection.  The church of our day could use more leaders cut out of his mold.

The Celibate Church

John Wesley, the father of Methodism, was a spiritual leader who was unafraid to let the Holy Spirit work in the lives of the people who listened to him preach.  It is true that he created structure for converts to meet and grow together in small group ministries, but it also true that he preached sermons which encouraged those who heard to experience the gospel and the Christ.  This man ordained as an Anglican minister and who was steeped in high church liturgy did not fear emotional expressions of faith.  The messages he preached were for the head and the heart.    

The church today seems to fear a presentation of the gospel and the Christ which is to be experienced with the heart.  Thus, sermons often end up being lectures on good theology, feel good lessons about how to be better, and appeals to be involved in some ministry of social activism.  Where the church today seems lacking is in inviting its people to meet Jesus in a personal life changing experience.  Not only is the baptismal font empty of water, but there are no wet tears on its altars.   

The church that stands in the legacy of Wesley is concerned about numbers in the pew, money raised, and buildings built, but one which continues to be unembarrassed by the paltry number of professions of faith and baptisms each year.  Such a church may survive for a long time, but it will eventually die from within like the Shakers of long ago who chose celibacy as a way of life. 

Wesleyan Grace

Some time ago I heard an hour long sermon which was filled with "oughts" and "shoulds."  It was a sermon which was filled with such despair over sin and the judgment which awaited us all that I felt like I was walking in a great darkness when I left.  As I thought about the sermon, I realized it was a sermon empty of grace.  It was not that the preacher said things which were untrue, but that the spirit of grace had no room to work.  One of the things I have learned about my changing theology is that I am more aware than ever of the way the grace of God undergirds and overshadows everything.   

My recent Wesley readings remind me that Wesleyan theology is at its core a word about grace.  In the first sermon he preached after Aldersgate entitled "Salvation by Faith"  Wesley preached, "Grace is the source and faith the condition of our salvation."  A couple of verses worthy of memorization stand under this statement.  One is Romans 5:8 which says, "But God proves His love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us."  A second is found in Ephesians 2:8, "For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God."     

More and more I am drawn to that verse about the over abounding and all sufficient grace of God.  John Wesley spoke a profound truth when he struck those words about grace being the source.  It is the source of everything.  What is it that I rightly deserve because of my goodness?  What is it that I have earned from all my service and preaching?  The answer is, of course, nothing.  Any blessing I have received in the course of my days is all about grace.  It is about receiving from my Creator that which can only be understood as a merciful gift.  Thanks be to God for His goodness!

Fundamentals

Some recent reading about John Wesley pointed out that he was always more concerned with preaching fundamentals of the faith than the trendy peripheral issues which tempted those who climbed up in the pulpits of his day.  It is a real temptation for preachers of the church today who want to be as current and as relevant as the morning newspaper we used to get thrown out at the house every day.  The hard truth is that we let issues guide our preaching more than the Scripture.  I remember too many times when I thought I had to expound on everything with a little spiritual twist at the end.    

One of the places where church folks often suffer is in their inability to pass a basic test on the fundamentals of the faith.  And, the reason they might get a failing mark on such a test speaks to the failure of the pulpit.  The atonement, justification, and the work of the Holy Spirit are just a few of those things which Wesley would have regarded as the fundamentals and so should today's preachers.  Instead, we tend to abandon the traditional language of the Scripture for watered down words that provide little more than a shadow of the substance being proclaimed.    

Of course, all the new versions that re-write the Scripture in easy to read language also have added to the problem.  This is not a call to go back to the King James Version, or to the original Greek and Hebrew, but simply a reminder that those big theological words we avoid may have something to declare to us that a trendy modern rendering might overlook.  Maybe it can all be summed up by saying that Wesley preached Christ which would be a good place for any preacher or seeker to start.

Advice from Wesley

While there are a lot of conflicting words circulating about Methodism in these days, everyone agrees that the word "Methodist" is almost synonymous with chaos.  Suddenly people are choosing up sides and becoming experts on John Wesley and the Methodist movement birthed by him in the 18th century.  Since choosing up sides has never really been a favorite pastime, I decided to do some reading about Wesley in order to refresh my memory and to learn more about this spiritual giant who would surely grieve over what is happening today.   

Before I retired I bought several volumes of a book series subtitled, "The Standard Sermons in Modern English."  Each volume contains some of Wesley's sermons with a brief commentary before each one.  Wesley always seemed to think of himself primarily as a preacher of the gospel.  Kenneth Kinghorn, the editor of the volume dealing with Christian Beliefs wrote that Wesley's sermons focused on fundamental subjects.  They contained sound logic and clear thinking, they spoke both to the head and to the heart, they linked theory and practice, they were easy to comprehend, they championed relational religion, and they underscored the centrality of holiness.  What Wesley always sought to do was to articulate the plain truth for plain people.    

One piece of advice given in a preaching class back in seminary days came from a Lutheran preacher and professor who said we should preach as if we were preaching to sixth graders. Dr. Brokhoff was not denigrating the intellect of the people in the pew, but trying to make us would be preachers understand that the place for egos to be placated by big words and flowery speech was not the pulpit.  He wanted us to understand that the pulpit was not a place for showing off our educational degrees, but a place for proclaiming plainly and clearly the life changing truths of God. 

Meandering in Graveyards

I have journeyed often to the nearby cemetery in these recent months of moving from deep grief to growing hope.  Today I took a longer journey to be with cousins who have grown old with me as they said good bye to a sister who had been a steadying rock in all of their lives.  The place where she was buried was just over from the graves of my grandparents and her parents.  If I had walked around those grounds for a few moments, I would have come to other stones which marked the graves of those connected to me through birth.    

It was sacred ground.  It was a ground that had been watered by tears of loss, ground that held the memories of stories never told, and ground that spoke to us all of belonging.  Just up the road a piece there is another graveyard much like the one in which I stood today.  It is filled with others who bear my name including my father who died before he had time to see his children grown with children of their own.  As often as I can, I go to that place and simply stand for a spell in the silence.  Cemeteries are places which bring us in touch with the deep memories we carry in our hearts, but they also are places where we are reminded of our hope and faith.  

When I stand there I remember the words the angels spoke to the grieving women on Resurrection Sunday, "He is not here; He is risen."  (Luke 24:5)  So it is with all of those whose graves I stood before today and yesterday.  There is no way to measure the loss we feel when we are separated in death from someone we love, but as the grief begins to loose its hold, we come to a place of seeing what we cannot see and we find gratitude rising up in us that the Risen Christ has prepared a glorious eternal home for those who have shaken the hold of a failing body.  

The Mercy of God

After worship today I stopped by the home of a friend and neighbor whose older brother's death was reported at church.   A heart broken man told me his 91 year brother who had been sick for a long time took his own life when he was released from the hospital.  The last words he spoke were from behind a closed bedroom door.  His daughter heard him praying aloud, "God, forgive me" and then he was gone.  My friend was heart broken over the death of his brother, but his broken heart was bleeding even more because of Christian friends who spoke of their sorrow that his brother was dead and was in hell.     

I cannot think of any moment that made me so angry at others who see themselves as Christians.  How someone could say such a word to a man grieving over his brother is beyond comprehension.  With a voice broken by tears and anguish, he asked me what I thought.  I told him not to listen to those folks and to know that God's heart had enough mercy and grace and love to take his brother into the arms of the One to whom he breathed his last words in prayer.   

I long ago came to a place of not judging others.  I have enough stuff in my own life which disqualifies me from that role.  None of us can walk in another's shoes and none of us can know the hurt, or the heart of another.  What we can know is that God knows and that God looks at us with a merciful heart and not a judgemental spirit.  In that moment I wanted to shake some sense into some people who see themselves as saints, but instead, I asked my brother if I could pray for him as we stood there together weeping in his backyard.  

The Power of Calling

Given the salvation which took place in the Nile River when he was a baby in a basket, Moses should have figured that God had something in mind.  No doubt he heard the story from his birth mother, his sister, and the Egyptian woman who adopted him as her own.  But, sometimes stories told become stories forgotten.  Though raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and all the advantages of being an Egyptian instead of a Hebrew, he ended up in the wilderness a murderer and a fugitive from the justice of Pharoah.  He must have breathed a sigh of relief after a few years of safely tending the flock of his father-in-law, Jethro.     

His sigh of relief was a short one because the Lord came and spoke to him from a burning bush that burned but which was not consumed.  When he put his sandals back on and left that holy place, he knew the road was going to take him back to Egypt and a confrontation with Pharoah.  It was a word Moses surely did not want to hear and he did everything he could to get out from under this word of God, but the God who called was also an unrelenting God.     

There may be some who are born with a desire to stand as a spiritual leader for the people of God, but most of the ones known over the years did their best to persuade God to get someone else.  When I knew that God was calling me to ministry, I also knew it was the last thing in the world that I wanted to do with my life.  It took God six months of speaking to me from the shadows of my experiences to bring me to a  point of relenting and saying "Yes."  It was not something I remember wanting to do as much as something I remember as something I was compelled to do.  If I was to live in obedience to Jesus, I realized there was no choice.  After much running the other way, I finally came around to the calling of God.  It is not something I have ever regretted and has always been something for which I have been grateful.   

Spiritual Leadership

Most of us have read the Exodus story so many times we take for granted the task before Moses.  It was quite a feat to move so many people such a long distance, to keep them together, to provide food and water for them and all the livestock, and to remain the leader of a people who never seemed to be satisfied with anything.  Few spiritual leaders of today's church could have handled the many tasks given to Moses and retained their whole hearted commitment to God.   

Of course, the Scripture makes it clear that there is no one like Moses.  Aside from the Christ who showed up in Bethlehem, no spiritual leader stands taller than this man who would have rather tended sheep in the wilderness for his father-in-law than going toe-to-toe with Pharoah.  He managed to keep his face facing God and was confident enough in who he was to receive guidance from Jethro, his father-in-law (Exodus 18).  The story of Moses reminds us that a spiritual leader is one who practices a listening kind of leadership.    Too many times our spiritual leaders in the local church as well as leaders such as Bishops and Superintendents practice an autocratic type of leadership which gives lip service to servant leadership.  

Those of us who have been entrusted at one time or another with spiritual leadership know how easy and desirable it is to surround ourselves with those whose counsel will always speak the "Yes" we want to hear.  Spiritual leaders have a tough role to hoe.  Like Moses the people who claim to be supporters often wander, the way forward seems to be filled with needs greater than resources, and when things go crazy, the faithful disappear.  No spiritual leader can hope for success and inner peace if he or she tries to go it alone  Prayer and truth speaking people are often the only thing which keeps the spiritual leader on the course God has set in place out there in the distance at the beginning of the journey.  

Persuasive Preaching

Good preaching is persuasive.  It is not just a lecture about some aspect of God's character, or a lesson on church history.  Those things have their place in the life of the church, but not as a steady diet offered from the pulpit.  Good preaching enables people to connect with Jesus Christ.  The church seems to have lost the urgency of calling people to a first encounter with the living risen Jesus Christ.  Those in the pulpit appear to preach with the assumption that everyone in the church has already chosen to walk in a personal relationship with Jesus, or that such a relationship is not really necessary.  Either way it is a tragic assumption.   

I remember the years when Baptism of the Lord Sunday was preached with an invitation for people to come forward for baptism and a personal moment of professing faith in Christ.  In the beginning I was surprised that someone always came forward and then later on I came to expect it.  It seemed that whenever that invitation was given on that Sunday, someone who had not planned on it happening got up from their pew to be touched by baptismal waters.    

It would be a different church today if we could once again begin to live within that expectation.  In my Methodist tradition it would mean that the baptismal font hidden in the back corners of the sanctuary would be given a prominent place once again.  It would mean that there would always be water in the font.  It would mean that an invitation to receive Christ would be the norm instead of the exception.  It would mean that preachers would have no reason to be ashamed that a year or two or three had passed since someone said "Yes" to Jesus at the altar of the church.  It would mean living in the excitement of new beginnings for such is what happens when a single soul hears the call to accept Christ and begins the walk of faith toward Home.  

Fire in the Belly

My spiritual journey in these days has taken me from a "Big Tent Revival Meeting" as contemporary as today to a evangelistic service at a campground I was told was two hundred years old.  The singing at both was spirited and each preacher had fire in his belly.  In some ways it seemed like I had stepped back into what I often call the good old days.  They are definitely old although they may not have actually been as good as I remember them.  But, I will humor the old man that is in me and declare that the good old days were as good, if not better, than I remember.    

What I do know about these last few nights is that the worship brought a renewed spirit to this old preacher.  The first preacher sounded a theme which contrasted the difference in doing the religious things as a substitute for a personal relationship with Jesus.  And the second one used the third verse of Jude as a text.  "I...appeal to you to contend for the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints."  It was a word which kept calling us to forget what people said about the Scripture for the sake of reading it ourselves.   Both preachers seemed to know about my heart.    

I will be the first to confess I needed these powerfully evangelistic messages.  I left my place in the pew renewed and wondering why I do not hear more sermons that are filled not with fire and brimstone, but the fire of the Spirit and a fervor that makes for passionate preaching.  Listening to these young guys almost made me want to get back to preaching!  Almost.  I did leave grateful that God was raising up some young preachers who could preach persuasively and with passion in these days when such is so desperately needed in the church.

The Big Tent Revival Meeting

This past Sunday night I went to what was billed a "Big Tent Revival Meeting" at a local community church.  It lived up to the advertising.  It was a really big tent set up on the church grounds.  The singing was all about old gospel songs most folks knew by heart.  The preaching was strong and evangelistic. There were words of repentance spoken at the end of the service.  It was indeed a revival meeting.  Folks left looking forward to meeting the next night.   

After the service I walked up front to speak to the preacher and saw something I could not see from my lawn chair seat at the edge of the tent's canopy.  A big metal cow trough. It was like the ones I have for the cows on the farm.  It was big enough for use in the pasture and certainly big enough to use for baptisms which was why it was up front full of water.  One person had been baptized at the morning service and the preacher was expecting more to come.  I imagine their expectations of more baptisms will become reality.  

I remember one Sunday long years ago when someone came forward unexpectedly for baptism at the end of a service and the baptismal font was empty.  We had to wait for someone to go get some water.  After that embarrassing moment, I made sure of two things.  I made sure the baptismal font was in a very visible and prominent place for everyone to see and I made sure it always had water in it.  In too many of our Methodist churches the baptismal font is all but hidden in a corner and empty of water.  My Baptist friend at the "Big Tent Revival" modeled greater expectations than is usually seen in most Methodist Churches.  Just maybe the cow trough is speaking a message about expectations to the church.  It would be a good thing to listen.

Faith and Love

Over forty plus years of ministry, I have come to know personally a number of different churches.  And, if anything is certain about churches, it is that they are all different.  One is remembered as a church where prayer prevailed.  Another is known in my heart as a church that had a heart for missions.  And one other is remembered as a church that sent a legion of its young into full time ministry.  When the Apostle Paul wrote his letter to the church at Colossae, he knew its people as those who had strong faith in Christ Jesus and a love for all the saints.  (Colossians 1:4).    

Would that more of today's churches were known for their faith and love!  Too many of the folks outside of the church look at its political battles, its overspending on building bigger buildings, and its catering of the affluent and then decide that they want no part of it.  Part of the reason the church fails to draw people on the outside has to do with its appearance of being just like any other organization in the community.  When folks look toward the church, they expect it to model a higher standard for its operation than some for profit business.  They expect the church to be different.

The Apostle Paul hit on two distinctive things which the church is called to model for the world.  It was put in place long ago to be a spiritual community where the power of faith in Christ Jesus would be evident and where people would live with one another in love.  People may show up at a church known for its youth ministry, or its choir, or its preaching, but what will hold them is that witness for Christ which not only changes personal lives, but also is a force for changing the world around it with love.