The Prow

There are a few memories I still carry of a trip some twenty years ago to the land of Vermont and New Hampshire.  One is a Bed and Breakfast tucked away in the middle of nowhere.  The second is a lobster bisque at a hole in the wall cafe suggested by a local.  And while there are certainly other things to remember, the one which came to mind again a few Sundays ago was a New England church, ancient, stark white, and stately on the edge of a town whose name I have forgotten.  Since I am preacher to the core, no one should be surprised that a church is stored away as one of the "most memorable."   

Actually, what is remembered about the church is the pulpit.  It was the thing which captivated my attention and called out to be seen by anyone who entered the sanctuary.  It was indeed high and lifted up.  Heaven could not have been more than a step or two away.  I could not help myself.  The preacher in me had to stand in that pulpit.  I was compelled to view the holy room from the place where the Word of God was proclaimed.  I made it to the top of those stairs and stood there for a few moments in silent awe and reverence.   

I remember remembering then Herman Melville's famous words from "Moby Dick."  "The pulpit is ever this earth's foremost part; all the rest comes in its rear; the pulpit leads the world...Yes, the world's a ship on its passage out, and not a voyage complete; and the pulpit is its prow."  What stirred the dormant memory was being in church not too long ago where a tall pulpit rose toward heaven calling for a preacher to stand and preach from it, only to have the preacher read the Word and step down to the altar to preach the sermon.  What a waste.  What a waste of a place of holy power.  It happens too often.  Why do preachers shun the pulpit?  Is it a fear of standing in such a holy place with a watered down word, or is it a way of bowing down to the god of accommodating a culture which cries out "Come, stand among us and be like us?"

Living in Tune

Back in my college days, my roommate taught me a little about the guitar.  While never as good as most folks are, I enjoyed fiddling with it enough to play a few songs.  One of the first things I learned was how to tune the instrument.  What is needed is a good ear as the top string is tuned to the fifth string, the fifth string to the fourth, and on down the fret board until all six strings are in tune with one another.  When one string is out of sync with the others, the guitar does not produce music, but a kind of discordant chaos.   

Years later as a pastor I watched a minister of music stop a Christmas Eve orchestra production to tell one of the paid violinist not to play anymore.  Apparently, she was either unprepared or having a bad night, but she was so out of step with everyone else that the efforts of the whole group was diminished and going down the tube.  It brings to mind that old saying that many of us remember from our childhood:  "One bad apple spoils the barrel."  We have discovered over the years that our groups, our teams, our families, and our churches work better when everyone is on the same page and getting along with each other.   

It is a good thing to be in tune with those around us.  Churches become houses of chaos instead of houses of prayer, families disintegrate, and nations go to war when we forget this simple truth.  When the casualties are counted, it seems like people could figure out a way to get their string tuned with the one next to them.  Jesus points the way as He says, "...love one another..."  (John 13:34)   Peter, Paul, and Mary used to sing a song, "When will they ever learn..."  I wonder, too.

Sunday Distractions

I suppose everyone has a story or two to tell about things that are distracting during Sunday morning worship.   Some might think I would have a long list since I preached for over forty years, but, truthfully, once a preacher gets focused and zoned in on preaching, things that distract seem to fall by the wayside. Crying children, snuggling teenagers, people who made a big production of looking at their wristwatch at noon, and the fidgeters never really bothered me.  They did their thing and I did mine.  

However, now that I am on the other side of the altar rail, it is far easier for me to notice what folks are doing around me, ahead of me, and sometimes behind me.  Chins resting on necks are sure to get my attention.  I start wondering how long before the snoring starts!  If some hymn is mentioned in the sermon,  I have to pull the Hymnal out of the pew rack to check out the song.  Whenever I notice a couple whispering too much, I start stretching my ears to see if I can eavesdrop a bit.  But, one of the biggest distractions is having someone nudge me in the ribs when a good morning nap seems in view.  When I was preaching, I never had that particular problem!   Multiply me by a hundred and it is obvious that the preacher is in trouble.  

Any good preacher really does need people praying for him, or her.  It is not just the Sunday morning distractions which might be an issue, but the greater ones take place on the ordinary days of the week when the Word of God for the upcoming Sunday is taking shape in the mind and heart.  In addition to simply being a person who lives in a family with its needs, the preacher finds that so much time gets eaten up by dealing with the administrative needs of the church, or just sitting with some older soul who needs to tell once again the story that has been heard a thousand times.  Be one of those who prays for their preacher.  It will make a difference in the preaching which is preached from the pulpit and received in your heart.

A Story To Tell

When Jesus touches someone, there is a story to be told.  Those disciples of John the Baptist who left him to follow Jesus became a part of that community of people who had unique stories to tell about Jesus.  Such is also true of those guests at the wedding of Cana of Galilee, the merchants in the Temple, Nicodemus, the woman at Jacob's Well, the government official whose son was healed, the paralyzed man at the pool called Bethzatha, and all those who feasted on the fish and loaves from a child's lunch.  (John 1-6)    

Jesus had an impact on each one of them and each one of them had a different story to tell.  What is true of these characters in John's story of Jesus continues to be true of each one of us.  We all have a story and we each one have a different one.  No one's story is better than someone's else's.  It is simply our story.  Many years ago on a witness team traveling from the Asbury College Revival of 1970, a group of us went to a seminary to share our faith.  We were a bit apprehensive sharing before theology students who were surely going to be more in the know about Jesus stuff than were we.  The professor put us at ease by telling us, "Share your story.  It is yours.  It belongs to no one else. It is not something up for debate.  It is your story about your encounter with Christ."  

Obviously, it was an important word since I still remember the moment fifty four years later.    We not only are called to boldly tell our story about Christ, but we are to do it without fear.  Jesus was always telling folks, "Do not be afraid."  (John 6:20)  Jesus also spoke about speaking for Him in difficult situations.  "...do not worry about how you are to defend yourselves or what you are to say, for the Holy Spirit will teach you at that very hour what you ought to say."  (Luke 12:11-12)  When Jesus tells us it is time to tell our story, let us do so with joy that we have a story to tell!

Navel Gazing

If a church hangs around long enough, it is going to start showing some gray hairs, and get set in its way.  Somewhere along the road which leads to stagnation and maybe even death, churches go through a season of navel gazing.  Trying to figure out what went wrong and what can be done to fix it easily becomes a favorite past time.  Of course, figuring out what went wrong and what is wrong is obvious to anyone who is old enough to have an opinion.  The fixing it part of the equation is not nearly so clear.   

Any time the navel gazing starts, the people with the numbered structure plans for recovery show up full of enthusiasm.  These planners speak to a second group, the naysayers who mainly are against most anything, just like they have always been when someone whispers change.  The third group which shows up in the room are the ones who advocate doing nothing except praying until everyone else comes to the same conclusions as they have reached before the praying begins.  It is no wonder church planning is such difficult business and something which often dies an early death buried by black ink on reams of paper.   I am not the expert on the process except to say I have done some over the years only to find myself and the church mostly where we were before we started.  

More and more I am coming to the conclusion that it is a process which cannot be hurried and put on a time schedule.  When this happens, it is the schedule which dictates and not the needs of the church, or the Holy Spirit.  Too much of the structured planning we do is really about maintaining and preserving the institutional life of the church when the church is, according to Scripture, a spiritual community centered on Jesus.  When Jesus had important things to consider, He went to the quiet places and waited and waited and waited on the Father to speak a Word.  There is no time for waiting in a our church planning process because we have to get it done in a specific time frame.  Maybe we need to work on learning to wait with the same intensity that we learn to gather statistics.

Twelve Baskets of Leftovers

It was somewhere around 1976 when I met John Mathis.  John was the pastor of a nearby church while I was pastor at Talbotton.  He was a kind, loving man who quietly communicated the presence of Christ in all the places he served.  While he was at nearby Olive Branch Church, our churches shared in a community Bible School.  Each day the children were asked to bring a sandwich for lunch.  I remember the day when John forgot his and one of the children gave him half of the sandwich from his sack, saying, "Tomorrow I will get my mother to fix you one, Brother John."   

When I come to the Feeding of the Five Thousand in the gospel, I remember Brother John and the boy with the sandwich.  I remember, too, the boy who came to the place where the crowds had gathered around Jesus with five loaves and two fish. (John 6:9)  When it came time to eat, the boy made his mother's lunch available to Jesus and Jesus fed a great multitude of hungry folks.  When everyone had their fill, there were twelve filled baskets of leftovers!   

It is amazing what Jesus can do.  It is amazing what Jesus can do when people are generous and do not hold things so tightly they cannot be turned loose.  It is amazing what Jesus can do when folks like you and me sign up as partners.  What happened that day by the Sea of Tiberias was a moment when what seemed impossible was intersected with the power of Christ and the generosity of a mere child.  What seems impossible today is still possible when the hand of Christ is filled by the generosity and concern of folks like that boy and you and me.  

A Personal Word

The purpose of this blog is not about me.  It never has been and is not now.  It has from the beginning been about reflections on our common spiritual journey and encouraging us all to stay the course on the way toward Home.  Today I veer from that purpose for personal reasons.  Today I finished a twenty eight day radiation treatment for prostate cancer.  It is also a time for remembering the death of my wife to leukemia one year ago (April 26, 2023)  after sharing 53 years of marriage.  This journey has brought me into countless contact with some fellow sufferers, some who have become survivors, but many more who never rang the bell marking a completed treatment.     

To older men like myself, please accept my encouragement to get a PSA test in your next blood work.  We may not like what could be found, but finding it early is always better than doing so too late.  My treatment was remarkably empty of any side effects other than some occasional discomfort and fatigue.  The end result being sought as any treatment begins is healing and elimination of the cancer.  The probability of that result is higher with early discovery so do not put off with dread something which can bring healing and added years with those whom you love and who love you.   

Finally, to those who are still fighting what seems to be an uphill and impossible battle, let me encourage you to not give up.  One of the things discovered on this journey into cancer treatment rooms is that new and better methods of treatment really are coming out of the labs.  It is not just a line offered to raise money.  Don't quit.  Hang in there.  There are people who love you and there are people who know that caring for you is not their duty but an expression of their love.  In this blog, I often write about the way God is revealing Himself and making Himself known to us by making what has been invisible visible in our lives.  It is surely true of treatments for cancer.  There are means of healing out there which will soon become visible even though invisible to us in the present moment.

The Brown Woodchuck

I was halfway into one of those winding mountain roads when I saw something brown and fuzzy standing on the side of the asphalt.  I have seen a thousand squirrels so I knew it was some other little critter.  And then the picture registered.  I had spotted my first woodchuck.  As quickly as I could find a place wide enough to turn around, I headed back down the way I had come hoping to see that never before seen creature once again.  Of course, he was gone.  He did not wait for an encore performance.  For a moment it was there, revealing himself to me, and then he was gone.    

I have learned over the years of living on the farm immersed in creation that what the creation reveals to us is of the "now you see it, now you don't" category of revelation.  Nothing seen once is ever seen again.  No tree, no stream, and no sunrise is ever the same.  Everything is constantly changing.  What is seen in the now is gone in the future.  One of the things which this reality causes is an awareness of the value of paying attention to the present moment.  The present moment is the only moment that woodchuck revealed himself and it is also the only moment God chooses to reveal Himself.    

As surely as God was prowling around the Garden when the first couple were its residents, so is He still prowling around this ever changing, always unfolding creation in which we all live.  It is not only full of things like woodchucks, rivers, and trees, but it is also full of divine revelation.  To pay attention is to see what is mostly missed by those who live looking at where they want to be instead of where they are.  God is not the bush and the tree, but they both bear the essence of the divine creative hand just like each one of us.  If we can only live paying attention to where we are and who is with us, we will see the brown woodchucks on the side of the road and the God who has put everything around us in its place. 

A Strange Question

It is surely one of the strangest questions asked in the whole of Scripture.  The gospel writer, John, tells the story of Jesus being in Jerusalem at the pool called Bethzatha.  Many invalid people, "blind, lame, and paralyzed," (John 5:4) waited there for the waters to be stirred.  Each hoped to be the first one in the water to receive the blessing of healing.  An ancient verse often missing in some translations explains the gathering of the broken: "...for an angel of the Lord went down at certain seasons into the pool, and stirred up the waters; whoever stepped in first after the stirring of the water was made well..." (John 5:3).  

Jesus saw a man there who had been paralyzed for thirty-eight years and asked him the strange sounding question:  "Do you want to be made well?"(John 5:6)  The paralyzed man never answered the question, but instead said, "Sir, I have no one to put me into the water when the water is stirred up..." (John 5:7)  As odd as it seems, there is no immediate "Yes" coming from the lips of the paralyzed man.  What he does is blame others for his continued infirmity!  

The question of Jesus brings two things to the surface.  Jesus is not going to force His blessing on anyone.  Secondly, not everyone wants to be healed.  Implicit within the question Jesus asked are questions like "Do you want to take responsibility for your life? Do you want to cease being dependent on others?  Do you want to get a job?"  What seems rather obvious to us is not always as obvious as it might seem.  When we ask Jesus for an act of healing in our life, He might ask us, "Are you willing to turn loose of a sedentary lifestyle and start walking?  Are you ready to change your diet to a more healthy one?  Are you ready to spend less time at work and more time with your family?  These are some of the prerequisites for the healing I am ready to give.  Do you want to be made well?" 

Unfolding Faith

It is a story which might begin with the words, "Meanwhile back in Cana of Galilee where Jesus had changed water into wine..."  (John 4:46).  John, the gospel writer, seems to take us on a long extended journey with Jesus as He goes from Cana of Galilee, to Jerusalem, to the Judean countryside, to the Samaritan village of Sychar, to the countryside of Galilee again, and then back to Cana of Galilee.  Cana of Galilee is remembered as the place where the water was turned into wine and as the 4th chapter comes to an end, it is described as the place where Jesus did a second sign which revealed His glory.    

This second sign involved a government official whose son was dying.  The official went to Jesus begging Him to come and heal his son.  In response to his plea, Jesus said, "Go, your son will live."  (John 4:50)  The faith of this Gentile is made more amazing in that Jesus had not according to John performed any healing miracles.  What he was asking of Jesus was beyond anything he had seen, and yet, he believed.  "The man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him and started his way." (John 4:50).  When he arrived home to see his son alive, the Word says, "So he himself believed, along with his whole household." (John 4:53)   

Some may come to belief so suddenly it is like the experience of Saul of Tarsus, but so many others discover that faith unfolds in the heart like the first glow of light on the eastern horizon each morning.  It seems faint but sure, and finally becomes bold and bright, overpowering all the darkness and doubt.  Such was the experience of this brokenhearted father whose son was thought to be dead, and such is also descriptive of many of us whose eyes are slowly opened to the possibilities within the unfolding mysterious realities which are always around us. 

God's Tool Shed

When I remember my Columbus pastorate at the St. John Church, I often remember a young man who came calling himself an agnostic.  He came because his wife said it was time to get back to church and so out of love for his wife, he went.  As one who liked music, he joined the choir.  As one who liked to discuss with others things being thought, he joined a Sunday School class.  He got so immersed, he found himself at the altar one Sunday professing faith in Christ and wanting to be baptized.  But, it did not stop at the altar.  He then went to his housebound non-believing Mother, told her about Jesus, and she, too, was baptized before she died of cancer.     

I cannot help but remember Burley when I come to the end of the story of the Samaritan woman.  She came to the well that day not figuring on meeting Jesus and when she did, two things happened.  Jesus changed her life and she went to tell others about Him.  Because of her witness to them about Jesus "many from that city believed in Him." (John 4:39)  I have heard some powerful and persuasive preachers in my time, but I am convinced that one person sharing about Jesus with another is one of the most powerful tools in God's tool shed.  When I was in college, I participated in many Lay Witness Missions and saw early on the  power of shared faith.    

It remains so today as well.  People expect the preachers to talk about Jesus.  They are not surprised to hear those known as the pillars of the church declare their faith, but when the folks who sit in the pew and work in the world start talking about a personal relationship with Jesus, people listen.  Not only do they listen, but their lives can be changed just as it was in those days when Jesus met the Samaritan woman at Jacob's Well.

Being Connected

During my forty three years of preaching, I did very little visiting other churches on Sunday morning.  The reason is obvious enough.  I had a pulpit from which to preach and it was where I wanted to be when the sun rose of Sunday.  This last year has taken me to a different place.  Instead of being a one church guy, I have been to twelve different churches in the last year.  I have worshiped in eight Methodist churches, two Baptist churches,  one Presbyterian church, and one Episcopal church.  I am not planning to write a book about my experiences in different churches, but is has been an interesting journey.   

One of the things this game of ecclesiastical hop-skip-and-jump has caused me to remember is something I have known for a long time.  Everyone needs a church which can be called home.  I heard a woman this morning offering a personal testimony of her spiritual journey and she spoke of my Sunday choice for the day as her spiritual home.  When this old worn out Methodist preacher heard her word, it resonated in my spirit as something once again needed in my life.  This is not to say that visiting around is no longer an option, but it is to say that a connection is needed somewhere that speaks of more than just a casual see-you-when-I-can relationship.  

I think the thing missed most is something called community.  When we are a part of a church community, we covenant with others to share in serving Christ.  We commit to working through the messy stuff of being in relationship with people who do not always have to agree with us.  Being a part of a spiritual community is declaring myself accountable to others who are called to life in the community.   It means being connected.  I have been coming to terms recently with my own personal need for that kind of connection.  Maybe I am not the only one.

How Can I Not Love Him?

I have always liked the story of the Samaritan woman at Jacob's well.  It is a very detailed account of an encounter of Jesus with another person considering the fact that the one who wrote the account was not at the well, but in town at the local grocery store. (John 4:8) To remember the story is to remember the way the woman was led from the superficial responses that pushed people away to the heart within her that was longing for acceptance and love.  I have preached many a sermon from this story and remember it as one which was mostly marked up and underlined in the Bible I carried to college long years ago.   

 

The thing I remember most about this story is that it is about a woman who by her own choices had messed up her life.  Most of us have walked too many steps on that road.  Of course, the other part of the story which can never be forgotten is the way Jesus responded to someone with a messed up life.  His response was one of gentle leading toward self-realization.  He did not judge her.  Too many had already judged her back in the village.  Instead, He offered her love and acceptance, grace and mercy, and a sense of self worth and value.  She was radically changed from that moment she spent with Jesus.   

 

There are so many things I have grown to appreciate about the spirit of Jesus and many of those things are found in the way he treated this messed up woman at Jacob's Well.  Like her, I have showed up in His presence more messed up than put together, more filled with things I did not want Him to see than I wanted to show Him, and the awareness that I no longer needed to keep judging and condemning myself when He was freely offering me grace and forgiveness,  How could that woman at Jacob's Well not love Jesus?  And, how can I not declare my love for Him as I rise each morning in the new day He has given me?

A Place for Us

As we move into the pages of John's gospel, it becomes clear without much delay that Jesus came for ordinary folks like you and me.  This is not to say that the powerful and affluent are unwelcome walkers on the journey of faith, but to say that Jesus shows no partiality to people according to the status symbols we use to separate some folks from others.  According to John, the first ones who came to Him were fishermen.  They might have  been successful fishermen, but it is not likely that they were putting up heavy bags of gold from their daily labors.  There was nothing white about their collars!    

In the span of a few pages we see that the affluent and powerful are not excluded from being disciples, but as we see with Nicodemus, it is in some ways harder for them to turn loose a life time of control.  Jesus showed no partiality and this becomes even clearer as we encounter the woman of Samaria at Jacob's Well.  Not only was she a woman, but she was a Samaritan woman and also one of soiled reputation.  She was, nonetheless, still welcome and became one of Jesus' most ardent advocates.  There are many more to follow these few, but they tell us early on that John 3:16 is true.  Jesus came for all and all are welcome.    

Of course, the good news of the story is that this includes all of us.  Some of us may carry the signs of the affluent, perhaps, even the powerful, but the majority of us belong to the unnoticed masses who go about their stuff from daylight till dark.  Some of us are like the woman at the well in that we have brought upon ourselves a host of problems by making choices we should not have made.  Ah, but the good news of the gospel is that there is not only a welcome mat laid out for us, but that we have a place with Jesus.  The cross creates a place for us as we live out our days here and the empty tomb assures us that His promise to prepare a place for us in the life to come is more certain than the sunrise.

No Longer Hidden

There is, perhaps, no part of the gospel story remembered by so many as the third chapter of John.  It is, of course, John 3:16 which is remembered, "For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him may not perish but may have eternal life."  What is often forgotten, or overlooked is that this memorable verse comes as a part of the conversation Jesus had one night with Nicodemus.  At first glance it seems like a strange ending for such an important conversation, but what is often viewed as more perplexing is the response of Nicodemus to what Jesus had to say to him.    

If the Nicodemus narrative ended with the third chapter of John, we would forever be uncertain about the Pharisee's response to Jesus.  We would wonder if the words of Jesus took such root in him that he became a follower.  It is only much later toward the end of John's gospel that the question is answered.  John 19:39 says, "Nicodemus, who had at first come to Jesus by night, also came...They (Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea) took the body of Jesus and wrapped it in linen cloths..."  The would-be-disciple of the third chapter is revealed as the out-in-the-open-disciple of the 19th chapter.  The magnitude of the change can be seen as he appears in a public arena where his reputation and life is threatened by the visible action he took.   

The one who seems to have disappeared so early in the story steps forward boldly at the end of the story as one whose life has been forever changed by Jesus.  Looking back over my life is to see someone who walked so cautiously in the beginning, someone who was afraid to take a stand when a stand needed to be taken, and one who often tried to disappear midst the pressures of culture.  Such is my confession.  Perhaps, it belongs to others as well.  The good news is that grace is persistent and forgiving and loving giving me time to finally stand with Nicodemus as one whose faith could no longer be hidden.

Patience, Not Approval

When John tells the story of Jesus cleansing the Temple in the early part of His ministry, it seems like a misplaced story.  It seems misplaced because the other gospel writers all put this part of the Jesus story in the final week of His life.  Regardless of what the others wrote and John surely knew since his gospel came much later than the other three, the cleansing of the Temple is told immediately following the wedding of Cana of Galilee.  The picture John paints of Jesus in the Temple is one which tells more than just a narrative of the event, but reveals the inner workings of the heart of Jesus in the midst of this moment.    

It enables us to see the turned loose emotions of Jesus.  He made a whip of cords.  The cord would become an instrument in His hands which expressed the anger of God.  He used the whip to drive out the sellers of sacrificial animals as well as the animals themselves.  It must have indeed been a noisy and chaotic moment as the coins rolled across the floors and tables were overturned and animals and people scurried to get out of His way.  He had seen the abuse of the Temple many times, but this was a moment of coming to a place where "Enough is enough!"   

Why John puts this event early in the ministry of Jesus as the others put it late is something which gives Biblical commentator cause to scratch their heads.  The thing that is clear is that a place set aside for holy purposes was being abused and such abuse angered Jesus.  There is no reason for us to think that His attitude has changed any since those days when He walked among us.  When the places set aside for holy purposes are used for personal gain, or a means of controlling those who come to worship, those who are in charge are walking on precarious ground.  The fact that such misuse of the holy is tolerated for a time does not speak of His approval, but His patience and mercy.  It is surely no different in the moment in which we live.

Six Stone Jars

Holy Water.  Six stone jars filled with holy water.   Each jar held 20-30 gallons of water (John 2:6) which when turned into wine was a lot of wine.  It was not just ordinary wine, but very good wine.  (John 2:10)  Even as it was not ordinary wine, neither was it ordinary water.  It was water set aside for the purification and cleansing of things which needed to be made ceremonially clean.  It was not ordinary drinking water, but water set aside for holy purposes.     

It was this set aside water that Jesus used to perform the first miracle of His ministry in Cana of Galilee.  Even as Jesus did not come to the wealthy, or to parents who lived at the top of the social system, so did His first miracle not come in the Temple, or be so spectacular as to warrant the world's attention, but in the midst of an ordinary event among ordinary people.  The water turned into wine might have even caused some to leave struggling to walk upright and in a straight line.  Even though such is true, John, the gospel writer, saw this miracle as one which revealed the glory of Jesus Christ and caused His disciple to believe in Him.   

Though it might seem to be a story of confusing and mixed messages, it must always be remembered that John wrote his gospel with many contrasts in mind and one of them was the contrast between belief and unbelief.  This is spelled out for us in the final sections of the gospel as John clearly states, "Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of His disciples...but these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in His name."  (John 20:30-31)  If turning water into wine can enable people to believe, so may the ordinary things which touch our lives.

Keep It Simple

When it comes to sharing our faith in Christ, there are a number of ways to think about it.  An older and more traditional expression speaks of our winning people for Christ.  Another way of speaking of this discipline of the faith would speak not of winning people, but of influencing them for Christ.  A third alternative would speak of being one who is faithful to sow seeds.   Of course, this is not an all inclusive list.  There are surely other ways of speaking of the way we understand our call to witness and share our faith in Christ.   

These three only point so some of the possibilities.   What is most important is that we respond to the call of Christ to share our faith with others.  To read the early words of John's gospel is to be struck by the way John the Baptist sees Jesus and points to Him by saying, "Look, here is the Lamb of God," (John 1:36).  He then does nothing to hold his own disciples, but freely lets them go.  The concern of John the Baptist is not in maintaining the status quo, but in seeing others go toward Jesus.  Another important modeling word is spoken by Jesus to those disciples when He said to them, "Come and see." (John 1:39).  Interestingly enough when Philip found Nathaniel, he simply repeated those three words of Jesus.    

Sharing our faith is something we are called to do and something we want to do, but we do not need to be frightened by it.  To look at the first chapter of John is to understand that sharing faith does not require some complicated formula.  Simplicity is the method held forth for us to see by the Apostle John.  We can share our faith.  What we share is our own story.  It does not belong to anyone else.  Keep it simple.  Give the Spirit room to do His thing!

A Favorite Gospel

The gospel of John has always been my favorite gospel.  When I look back at the old frayed Bible I used as a teenager, the pages of John's gospel bear the most notes and underlinings. To this day when I have a time of randomly reading the gospels, I open to the pages of this gospel.  John always seemed to go beyond the boundaries of story teller to a place of enabling those who read to experience something of the heart of Jesus.  In the Celtic spiritual tradition, the Apostle John is spoken of as the one who because of his proximity to Jesus at the Last Supper heard the heartbeat of Jesus, and thus, the heartbeat of God.    

This powerful image comes from John 13:23 which says, "One of His disciples--the one whom Jesus loved--was reclining next to Him."  Some commentators translate this passage to speak of John leaning into and against the breast of Jesus which, thus, enabled him the hear the heartbeat of the Incarnate Holy One in our midst.  It is an image not repeated by any other gospel writer and points to what John was being inspired to do as he wrote.  He wanted to do more than just tell the story.  Others had already done this and done it well.  His gospel invites us to experience and know Christ at a deep and more intimate level than the other gospel writers.     

The gospel writer, John, was one of those writers who was not content with the reader gathering information that could be read and put in some stored box where read material is placed.  He obviously wanted us to read what He wrote and carry it with us.  He leaves us with questions about the characters he puts on stage and he creates images which stir our imagination and our faith.  He keeps us thinking and he keeps us growing in our understanding of the mystery that stretched out on the road from Bethlehem to the empty tomb.

Always Present

This morning I found myself in the midst of a quiet time which was not quiet.  Before the members of the household in which I was visiting made it to the kitchen, I found my way to a rocker on the second floor front porch.  It overlooked a busy urban street filled with fat squirrels, serious joggers, speeding bicycles, and an occasional delivery truck. Just beyond my line of vision, but not beyond my ability to hear, was a busy expressway making such a constant roar that I named it "The Beast."   

Obviously, it was different from my mornings at the farm where the sun rises so quietly that you can hardly hear the sounds of a new day beginning and when they are heard, it is a soft gentle sound which unfolds in the silence instead of crashing down like some roaring beast.  Despite all the differences and my first thoughts about how hard it was going to be to experience holy presence in such a strange and noisy environment, it was one of the best quiet moments I have known in some time.  As I said the last words of prayers, I heard a voice from within me reminding me that the Holy One is present in all places and that quietness and stillness is really more of the heart than of the ears.  

Two Words stood out in my later moments of remembering and reflection,  The first comes from Jeremiah 23:23-24:  "Am I a God near by, says the Lord, and not a God far off?  Who can hide in secret places so that I cannot see them? says the Lord.  Do I not fill  heaven and earth? says the Lord."  The second is from a more familiar place, the 139th Psalm:  "Where can I go from Your Spirit?  Or where can I flee from Your presence? If I ascend to heaven...if I make my bed in Sheol...if I take the wings of the morning...even there Your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast."  (Psalm 139:7-10)  How comforting it is to know that if we are in the land of the roaring beast, or in the land of the unfolding silence, the God who loves us is with us.

Kneeling at Altars

I like the fact that the Methodist Church still has an altar.  With all the changes which have taken place over the years, the altar has stayed in place.  While I cannot say with certainty that every Methodist Church has an altar, the ones around me still have a place to kneel.  What is unfortunate is that no one uses them except for communion.  This may change soon as the hurried "grab and go" method replaces the more traditional way of kneeling with open hands.  

As may have been figured, I grew up in churches that used altars.  I gave my life to Jesus at a hundred different altars before I found one where it took.  Prior to that altar, I gave my life to Jesus and then took it back after a few days!  But, it was also a common practice back in those days to have Sunday night worship.  It was a more informal service than Sunday morning, the brown Cokesbury song books were used, and most every service ended with an invitation for people to  leave their pews for a time of prayer at the altar.  Call me old fashioned, but I long for those days when the service of worship took a little longer because folks were lingering at the  altar.    

As my own ministry unfolded through the years, I always made sure there were invitations for folks to pray at the altar.  Sometimes I invited people to give their lives to Jesus when they came to the altar and sometimes they were just invited to pray about the things of the heart.  I do not suppose the clock will ever be turned back to embrace those days, but then again, who knows when this generation will become so spiritually hungry that the altar will once again be stained with tears?  Kneeling is a good thing.  Kneeling reminds us Who is in charge.  Altars help with this need in our lives.

Trouble

When we look at the life of Jesus, it becomes very clear that trouble confronts everyone.  Not even the Son of God who modeled perfection in obedience to the will of the Heavenly Father was exempt from trouble.  There is also that Word He left for us which is recorded in John 16:33 which says, "In the world you face (persecution, tribulation, trouble).  But take courage; I have conquered the world."  The use of the three words in parentheses point to the different ways this verse gets translated and while each word carries with it a shade of difference, the point is that life is not a walk through a rose garden on a sunny Sunday afternoon.     

None of us have to seek trouble, instead, it has a way of finding us.  Our experience of trouble may be as insignificant as a flat tire, or something as life changing as the loss of someone we love.  There are many things which are certain about life.  Trouble is one of them.  It has nothing to do with our faith in God.  It is not some punishment for a failure to live as we are called to live.  To hear Jesus teaching is to hear him telling us that the rain, the winds, and the flood fall on the just and the unjust (Matthew 7:24-27).  Trouble does not discriminate.     

What the Word does promise for us as it speaks in behalf of our Father God is that we never stand alone in the midst of our trouble.   "I am with you always" is what Jesus said (Matthew 28:20).  Not only do we have this promise of Jesus, but we also have the Words of the Spirit who inspired the Apostle Paul to write, "For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."  (Romans 8:38-39).   When trouble comes, and it will, we have a firm foundation on which to stand.

The Light in the Darkness

People by the thousands drove unbelievable numbers of miles to put themselves in the path of the darkness of the recent eclipse.  While I saw news reports of folks making the journey, I also met a man after church this past Sunday who was leaving morning worship here in Georgia and driving alone to Arkansas so he could experience this solar phenomena.  It is amazing that people too busy to do the simplest things in their daily routine will drive long distances to stand in darkness for a few minutes.   

As I watched people on their journeys, I wonder if it speaks of our desire to experience the transcendent.  I wonder if the quest is more about standing in a moment filled with an awareness of something greater than self than it is to don a pair of special glasses and peer at the conjunction of sun and moon.  I wonder if the moment of going is not about somehow being connected to the Creator, the creation, and divine mystery which is within this solar pilgrimage.    

Could it be that a phenomena as natural as an eclipse re-awakened the desire within us to experience God in the midst of the Creation?  Could it not speak of a spiritual hunger so deep that it has yet to enter the conscious mind of many of those who peered heavenward?   Could it not be that the seeking of the darkness brought the seekers into the realm where the Light that brought all things into being exist?  (John 1:1-5)  Could it be that the race to the darkness was not a scientific based journey, but a spiritual pilgrimage into holy Mystery?  Who knows?  Maybe standing in the Light within the darkness reconnected some of those watchers with their spiritual roots.

Here is Home

Here, in the now is where

       the moment is lived,

         not back there in the land

           where broken dreams clutter

              the floor of what might be

                and those who dare to walk

are destined to stumble.

Here, and not tomorrow

       is the place of the best,

          even though out yonder calls

            with alluring promises

               of too good to be true,

                 and open exit doors

that only lead to nowhere.

 

Here, not back, not ahead,

       the past is remembered

         and the daring dream dreams,

           knowing that life is lived

             now, and not in the then, 

               for now is where He is

and where He makes my Home.

Seed Sowers

In the garden here on the farm there are four rows of red potatoes growing.  Though they were planted a few days after the traditional potato planting day which is Valentine's Day, they have come up and are making a promise of more than the five pounds of seed potatoes put in the dirt.  Of course, there are a few blank spots in the rows.  Not every potato cutting is making potatoes.  There are always a few that never see the light of day.   

The important thing is to plant.  There can be no crop without the work of planting.  And as every one who plants knows, not every plant is going to produce fruit.  In the gospel of Luke, there is a Word known as the Parable of the Sower.  Jesus talked about a sower planting seed.  Some fell on the path to be trampled; some fell on the rock and withered; some fell among thorns and were choked; and, some fell on good soil, grew, and produced.  Both my potato patch and Jesus's parable tell us the same message.    

As those who seek to follow Jesus, our task is not growing or producing, but sowing the seed.  We are seed planters.  Sometimes we forget and assume responsibility for the harvest.  The harvest is not our responsibility.  The harvest belongs to the Spirit.  Our share in the work of the Kingdom is planting seed.  We plant seed through our service to the Christ; we plant seed in investing our lives in the lives of others; and we even plant seed through our praying.  Jesus described our role in the Kingdom business with those words, "A sower went out to sow his seed."  (Luke 8:5). Be a good and faithful sower.

At the Table

When I was growing up in South Georgia, it was common in most Methodist Churches to offer Holy Communion once a quarter.  Of course, some churches did not offer it at all because it was "too Catholic."  In those days the Methodist Church was not a Table oriented Church, but one oriented toward preaching.  The architecture of many sanctuaries placed the pulpit in the center of the altar area with the Communion Table mostly serving as a place to put flowers.    

Things have changed some.  Newer churches were built with a divided chancel which provided more opportunities for the Table to have a more prominent role in worship.  This shift did not delegate preaching to a place of lesser importance so much as it encouraged more gatherings around the Table.  Nowadays the quarterly observance has been replaced by an offering of Communion each first Sunday of the month which is a far cry from a weekly Table gathering, but it is a step in the right direction.    

I remember a time early in my ministry when I thought that observing Communion too often would take away from its meaning.  I was wrong.  What I have discovered is that the moment around the Table has an intrinsic spiritual value which feeds the soul and creates a greater awareness of the presence of Christ.  As I knelt at the altar this morning with hands open to receive the Holy Sacrament, it was a moment of anticipation, and joy, and holy presence.  As I rose from the altar it was with gratitude and love for the Christ who sacrificed Himself for me on the cross. 

On Being Methodist

Up the road a piece there is a church where Methodist people have been gathering for a long time.  The sign out front has the cross and flame logo of the United Methodist Church, the name of the church, and a word that reads, "Founded in 1776."  While this is a few years before the Methodist Church was organized in this country, history tells the tale of a Methodist society meeting in the area before the organizational date.  When I pulled from the busy four lane onto the hardly traveled paved road which leads to the church, it seemed that the air became very holy.   

After  reading ths stories on grave markers under huge oak trees, I was admiring the church building when a car pulled up.  As it turned out it was one of the members of the church who had a key to the sanctuary so the visit included being inside this holy place where so many ordained Methodist preachers like me have preached.  I could not help myself.  I was swept away by the history of the place, by the awareness of souls saved at its altars, and the saints now gone who had served Christ over the year.  I was so swept away and stirred in my own spirit that I told my new friend if they needed a preacher to fill in some Sunday, I would welcome a call.  What a privilege and blessing it would be to preach in that church where so many have preached before me!    

Most folks would say it is not much of a church.  Tucked away in the countryside, it is seldom seen by those hurrying to get somewhere on the nearby four lane.  The membership is small and the Sunday morning crowd is around twenty plus or minus a few.  It has battled threats of being closed, moments filled with uncertainty, and the deaths of folks upon whom the church depended for its survival.  It is still there, or maybe, it should be said, it is still here among us.  These Methodists are tenacious people, the kind that do not know the meaning of the word quit, and the kind who are deeply committed to Christ and His Word.  They are my spiritual kinsmen and I am humbled and grateful to be known as a Methodist.

The Living Word

It must have been a thousand years ago that I preached my first sermon.  Well, almost.  I never thought to figure how many times I would be preaching in the forty years of ministry which was stretching out in front of me.  One day when there was absolutely nothing to do, I took a few minutes and did a rough calculation of the number of times I have preached since that first Sunday.  Not only was I surprised at the sheer number of sermons preached, but I wondered if I ever thought back then what was ahead of me.  Preaching twice, and sometimes three times, a Sunday adds up in a hurry!     

Had I done that figuring back then at the starting line, I might never have left it!  The truly amazing thing is not that I have preached so much, but that all the sermons were inspired by some passage of Scripture.  It would seem that all the preaching texts would be used, but there are still so many waiting to be preached.  There are more texts for preaching than I will ever get to preach.  The Word is inexhaustible.  Any good preacher knows that a text used ten years ago is going to be seen in a different light today or tomorrow.    

One of the things that the Spirit inspired some writer of long ago to write says, "...the Word of God is living and active, sharper than any two edged sword..."  (Hebrews 4:12)   Another truth proclaimed in the same manner is from II Timothy, "All scripture is inspired by God..."  (II Timothy 3:16)  This inexhaustible Word from which we preachers preach is not a word written for a particular day, but one which the Spirit has written for every generation.  It is not dead, but alive.  Every time we read it, we are reading through a different lens and we should expect not only to hear the old Word heard from long ago, but another one as new as the morning dew.  It is the nature of this living Word.

Thin Places

In the stream of Celtic spirituality, there were places which were known as thin places.  These places were holy places where the veil seemed especially thin between here and there, between heaven and earth.  between those who have gone ahead and those of us who still wait. Places of worship would often be built in those thin places as would cloisters for monks and the distinctive high Celtic cross.  Some might think of thin places as a bunch of hocus pocus, but there are also others who are convinced that their journey of faith has taken them into such holy places.   

There are a number of things which affirm this conviction.  One is the many Biblical references to angels coming as helpers in moving along the plan of God as well as those many references to angels being present though unseen in our  lives.  Another source of our conviction is the verse in Hebrew 12 which speaks of the great cloud of heavenly witnesses who intercede in our behalf.  There is finally the experience of many who bear witness to standing where it seems that heaven has broken into the earthly realm.   

What is slowly being learned is the error of dismissing something which seems just beyond our ability to understand.  The later years have brought with them more a sense of mystery in the world.  There is more about God that I do not know than I know.  There is always something surprising about the ways He breaks in among us to reveal Himself and to speak to us.  We can never discount what we know as possibilities from the realities of God's Kingdom.    

Handling the Tension

Recently I have had the opportunity to worship in a new church start-up.  It has been interesting and inspiring.  Laying all the church politics aside, it is exciting to experience the freshness of something new being created.  On the Sundays I have been present, the place has been full, the worship has been lively, more traditional than trendy, and there is a kind of contagious spirit in the air.  To be there is to be aware that the Holy Spirit is at work in this new creation.   

While there are no doubt many questions such a church must face as it goes forward, there are a couple of ones that stand alongside each other.  How does a church maintain that fresh faith atmosphere?  The second stand alongside the first question is how does such a church avoid becoming institutionalized?  To become institutionalized is to turn into a church that ends up being more about building buildings, bigger budgets, and larger memberships than it is about sharing faith in a contagious way.  When the church becomes institutionalized, the Spirit is quenched since the primary goal of the church becomes maintaining and preserving the institution.    

Perhaps, the important word in this equation filled with so much tension is balance. How do we keep the ball of fresh faith and the ball of providing the physical needs of the community in the air at the same time?  The church has suffered when one of these concerns becomes paramount over the other.  Maybe there is an answer to living with the tension within dependence on the Holy Spirit.  I hope and pray such is true.  What I have seen and been a part of as a pastor for nearly forty years convinces me that when such matters are left solely in our hands, the church is in trouble.    

A Moment of Celebration

He came into the restaurant alone.  His clothes were worn, his hair a bit long, and his appearance somewhat haggard.  He sat down two booths up from where I was sitting.  Midway through his meal, he told his waitress that today was his 91st birthday.  He even got out his driver's license to prove it!  The waitress said "Happy Birthday!  I'm going to get you some cake."  Having overheard the conversation, I asked my wife if she was ready to sing "Happy Birthday" as we got up to leave.  We went to his table as the waitress arrived and I congratulated him on his birthday and said to the waitress, "Let's sing Happy Birthday." Four young guys at the next booth turned to join us as did two others at a nearby table.  It was a great moment for all of us and no doubt was the old guy's only birthday party on his 91st!    

I walked out of the restaurant smiling almost as big as the birthday boy and so grateful that God had brought me to such a surprising and joyful moment of celebration.  God has a way of bringing us into surprising moments.  There is nothing surprising about the way He interjects Himself into our lives.  The problem for so many of us is that we are too busy to see it happening and even when we do, we find a reason to be more of a spectator than a participant.   

Years ago I remember reading a book on prayer in which the author suggested we give God permission to use us each day in whatever way He would choose.  And while I failed to make that prayer this morning, I have a feeling that He did it anyway as the nine of us celebrated a birthday with an old timer.  There is just no telling what God would do for each one of us if He knows that we desire nothing any more than being useful to Him each day.