Remembering an Attitude Adjustment in a Furnace Room

It was Christmas Eve. Rain that had pelted the worshipers coming to the Christmas Eve service had stopped and the wind now blew with a vengeance out of the northwest. The forecaster had warned that there would be a “flash freeze” as temperatures dropped and finally bottomed out at ten degrees below zero. Already the remaining moisture in the air had changed to a mixture of sleet and snow flakes. I locked up the church and walked across the church parking lot to the parsonage. There I intended to throw some more logs in the wood stove, have some Christmas Eve dessert, and tuck into bed our two excited children. They eagerly anticipated Christmas morning and the surprises they assumed would be waiting for them.

     After the prayers and wrestling matches in their beds, it was time to go down stairs to sit in the overstuffed chair and watch the dancing flames behind the glass panels of the woodstove. Outside the wind howled and the branches of giant oak trees rattled with each blast. I sat down exhausted and discouraged. The yearlong church building project had drained me of energy. Disputes some church attendees had with one another discouraged me. Financial issues at the church and my own personal accounts concerned me. The cares and heavy burdens of individuals in the church were heavy on my heart. The schedule in the last several months had been so hectic I felt like the proverbial hamster on a treadmill. It seemed so hypocritical singing “Joy to the World.” Where was that joy? Joy at the time seemed to be on life support!

     Before I went to bed it was time to get the surprise bike for my son out of the station wagon. I pulled on a coat, exited into the howling darkness and promptly slipped on the sidewalk. Everything was encrusted in ice and covered with snow. In the last few hours the world outside had frozen into an ice-skating rink. Slipping over to the car I discovered all the doors were frozen shut. No door would unlock. The bike was trapped in a frozen car and outside stood a frozen frustrated pastor. As I turned to go back to the house, I noticed several lights lit at the church. “Great!” I thought, “Now I have to slide down the parking lot to turn out lights!” I put on more layers and some boots and cautiously inched my way to the church as the wind and snow stung my face.

     When I entered the church I saw lights in the basement and heard noise in the boiler room. Opening the door I found Eby, our part time custodian, working at the boiler. The only noise in the room was the draft damper of the furnace opening and closing with each gust of wind outside. “Eby, what in the world are you doing here on Christmas Eve?” I quizzed. He explained that he noticed during the service the furnace was acting strangely and sometimes would not reignite. He had to manually hit the restart button several times. He was concerned that the pipes would freeze if the furnace stayed off through the night. He worked and I watched for about an hour, but the problem persisted. We discussed and prayed over what to do and decided to take shifts restarting the furnace throughout the night. He took the first shift until midnight and I would then relieve him.

     Just before midnight I returned to the church to begin my shift. The problem had persisted. We sat together in the furnace room looking at the gauges on the boiler as water temperatures lowered and praying it would restart this time. Just after midnight Eby suddenly said, “Merry Christmas pastor!” I replied with less enthusiasm, “Merry Christmas Eby.” There we sat on two upturned five gallon buckets and prayed for a miracle. It didn’t come.

     Half joking I said, “We ought to sing a few carols while we wait.” Eby surprised me by agreeing. There in the furnace room, with just the flapping of the furnace damper to accompany us, we sang a couple of carols ending with “Silent Night.” As Eby stood I thanked him for his efforts and I said, “What a lousy night.” He replied, “It could be worse,” and turned and left.

     I sat down on the five gallon bucket and tried to settle in for my shift. Eby’s words echoed in my mind, “It could be worse.” Mentally I thought, “How could it be any worse? Christmas Eve in a furnace room!” Pulling my work coat closer abound my neck, I brooded over how bad things were. Suddenly with crystal clarity I thought, “That’s right, things could be worse!” I reflected how things were much worse for Jesus during the night of his birth. Here I am focusing upon my problems and overlooking what Jesus endured on that first Christmas. He left a perfect sinless environment to come into a sin-scared world. He left the place where he occupied a position of prominence to encounter the obscurity of a world that did not know him. He set aside all of the riches of heaven to be born into a poor family. He left the place where angels responded to his every desire to dwell on earth as a servant to all. He came not for a life of ease but a life of hardship, challenge, ridicule, betrayal, and death. He came because of love that looked past the difficulties and disappointments.

     A verse came to mind in that furnace room challenging my faulty attitude, “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9). Paul challenges us to “let this mind be in you which was in Christ” (Philippians 2:5). Looking at Jesus’ birth as he came to earth has a way of adjusting one’s attitude – even in a furnace room! 

Convenient Thanksgiving

Recently I came across an article in the Wall Street Journal by Anne Marie Chaker entitled, “Early-Bird Special: Some Families Can’t Wait for Thanksgiving” The byline read, “More Americans are celebrating Turkey Day earlier than the fourth week of November, citing cheaper travel and lower stress.” The article indicated that people chose the early-bird celebration in an attempt to: avoid travel logjams; snag cheaper travel deals; escape the commotion of the food frenzy at grocery stores; and have less competition for days off around the holiday.  A recent survey found that 16% of those polled are choosing to celebrate Thanksgiving early, and another 13% are willing to celebrate the holiday earlier in the future. The chief executive of the polling firm, John Dick, concluded, “More people are willing to sacrifice tradition to fit things more easily into their lives.”

     Has our nation become such a culture of convenience that even our holidays now have to fit into what is convenient and comfortable for us? In reality what is supposed to be convenient often does not produce comfort. Consider a stop at a convenience store to get a pack of mints. There you find a person ahead of you purchasing a string of lottery tickets. The convenience store now becomes an uncomfortable waste of time. Think about a trip to the drive-through to grab some convenience food. The endless line of cars seems to move at a crawl. People choosing to bypass the drive-through sometimes enter the establishment and exit before you even get to the speaker to place your order! What was to be a convenience has become an aggravation.

      Why does one crave convenience when it is sometimes less than we expect? Perhaps a look at the term “convenience” will help us understand. A dictionary highlights various uses of the word: “1. the quality of being suitable to one's comfort, purposes, or needs; 2. personal comfort or advantage; 3. something that increases comfort or saves work; 4. a suitable or agreeable time.” It struck me the word “comfort” was highlighted in the definition. Apparently people desire convenience hoping it will produce some level of comfort. Individuals are longing in an uncomfortable world to find some sort of comfort.

     Many people associate comfort with the act of giving thanks. How many times have we sat at a Thanksgiving celebration and heard people give thanks for the comfortable blessings they received during the year. Somehow the pains of the past year are temporarily and conveniently erased from minds and one reflects only on the things that made them comfortable. The reality is that life is filled with both comfort and pain. We can understand giving thanks for the comforts of life. Can we give thanks for the pains of life? Frankly, pain seems like an inconvenient intrusion into what one expects and desires from life.

     There is an account in the Bible of two men who held a “thanksgiving service” in the midst of their painful life experience. Paul and Silas in Acts 16:16-25 had done a good thing by releasing a girl possessed of an evil spirit that controlled her. Men who owned her as a slave and had used her divination to make “her masters much profit,” became enraged. They had Paul and Silas arrested, brought false charges against them, and caused the magistrates to “tear off their cloths and to be beaten with rods.” To add further pain, “When they had laid many stripes on them, they threw them into prison… and fastened their feet in stocks.” One would assume there was nothing here to give thanks for in an atmosphere of injustice, abuse, and pain! However, the Bible records, “But at midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.”

     What went through the other prisoners minds? Maybe they thought: “They are crazy!” or “They must be delirious and don’t know what is going on!” or “They are some kind of religious fanatics” or “What in the world makes these guys act this way?” The account seems to indicate that Paul and Silas were not focusing upon convenience or comfort. They were focusing upon God: who is overall; who has made promises to never leave or forsake them; who is bigger than their circumstances and pain; and who is able to deliver his children one way or another. Certainly, this was not a convenient thanksgiving setting for these men.

     This thanksgiving season certainly will not be a convenient thanksgiving for many. The blessings of the past year are shrouded in the pain of living in a sin-scared world. The remaining members of the small Baptist church, their family, and friends in Sutherland Springs, Texas, certainly are aware of this. They join many in the world who have had painful life experiences of death, disease, disappointment, depression, and a host of other issues surrounding their lives. It is in these times focus will determine the ability to somehow process the seeming unfathomable heartaches of life.

     Paul and Silas processed their pain by focusing upon their God.  What does the patriarch of the Holcombe family of which eight members were murdered in that Baptist church focus upon? Joe Holcombe, 86, who mourns the loss of the generations he had raised, told an interviewer in a quiet voice. “We know where they are now,” he responded. “All of our family members, they’re all Christian. And it won’t be long until we’re with them.” His thanksgiving was on the certainty of his family’s present and eternal state, and the prospect of a future reunion. Thanksgiving is always convenient even in painful times when we maintain the right focus.

Warming Our Chill of Doubt

     Fall is my favorite time of the year. I love the sights of colorful leaves, the smell of the smoke arising from fireplaces that are holding off the seasonal chill, and of course the tastes of the cider and pumpkin pie. Now living in a retirement community my colorful leaves are quickly dispatched by the grounds crew. I have no fireplace. Cider and pumpkin pie are carefully rationed to guard against the battle of the bulge! Coupled with the pleasant aspects of fall are other thoughts. Anniversaries surface of past events. The tragic shootings in October 2006, of Amish children at Nickel Mines School come to mind. The deaths of my Mother in November and my Father in December percolate to the forefront of my memories. The unpleasantries of past memories can shroud the joys of fall much like the present autumn chill tempers the memories of hot summer days.

     So too much of the past can be nullified by present realities. In that process, things of the past that should be a comfort to us are often lost. Examining the life of John the Baptist, it appears he went through a period when the realities of his past dimmed in the face of his current situation. John’s earlier ministry was exciting. He had been part of a revival in Israel where people came into the wilderness of Judea to hear his message, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Matthew 3:2). He had seen masses of people respond to the message, humbling themselves in a baptism of repentance and confessing their sin (3:5-6). He saw people produce works of repentance as people were challenged to undergo a cultural transformation (Luke 3:7-18). He also had the privilege of recognizing and announcing that Jesus was, “The Lamb of who takes away the sin of the world,” and adding that Jesus was the Son of God (John 1:29, 34). John was so committed to who Jesus was and what he would do that he influenced two of his disciples to follow the one he announced (1:37). John was not ministering to gain a personal following, but to have people follow Jesus. His ministry was one of humility as he pointed people to Jesus saying, “He must increase, and I must decrease” (3:26-30) – a comment worth remembering.

     One person in the audience of that day did not appreciate John the Baptist’s ministry or message of repentance. King Herod the tetrarch despised having his evils brought under the scrutiny of the message of repentance. John the truth speaker was rejected and imprisoned by him (Luke 3:19-20). Now all John had experienced and passionately preached was chilled by the doubt generated by his present realities. Doubts like the cold drafts from autumn winds seeping into a house, filtered into John’s soul. Matthew records that John sent his disciples to Jesus to confirm his former opinion and message about Jesus (11:1-3). In essence he is asking, “Why am I in prison if you are indeed the Messiah I have been announcing? You are doing miracles. Do one for me and get me out of this prison!” Jesus answers his doubts with revelation. He tells John’s disciples to report to John what “you hear and see” (11:4). Then Jesus quotes Scripture that confirms His Messianic credentials from Isaiah (29:18; 35:5-6). In the cold day of doubting, he needed to be warmed by reflecting upon what God had already revealed. What an encouragement to see that Jesus did not lecture a doubter for his doubts, but spoke truth that he needed. This reassured him in his prison experience.

     Jesus shared with the multitude what he thought about John’s greatness, as well as the value and the humility of his ministry (Matthew 11:7-11). Christ’s opinion of us is not based upon our present circumstances. His opinion is based upon what he sees and knows about our ministry and heart attitude. Later of course, John was beheaded by the cowardly Herod, who was forever haunted by the humble spokesman that prepared the way for the Lord (14:1-12). Christ’s approval is no guarantee of human acceptance.

     What current reality is causing you some doubts about Jesus’ person or His love for you? Possibly you are in some sort of “prison” in your personal world. Perhaps unjust criticisms are coming your way from those who once supported you. Maybe relationships are frayed that were once warm and beneficial. Maybe you have prayed and expected deliverance from the “prison” you endure. You may think you served Christ and certainly do not deserve this kind of treatment. In those times perhaps it is time to turn to Scripture and recall the comforting assurances God has given in the past that will strengthen you in your current circumstances.

     There are abundant encouragements that can support us in the Psalms. As I reflect on the 500^th anniversary of the Reformation, I recall Martin Luther’s words about Psalm 118, “It is nearest my heart and I have a familiar right to call it mine. It has saved me from many dangers.” Before he was put on trial for his beliefs at Worms he quoted verse 6, “The Lord is on my side; I will not fear. What can man do to me?” When you feel the cold blast of doubt enter your soul, perhaps reflecting upon God’s revelation will warm your heart just as it did for John the Baptist and Martin Luther. Perspective is often adjusted by reflection upon divine revelation.   

Fix Problems Not Blame

Historic flooding in Houston from hurricane Harvey has generated a flood of second guessing. Even as the rain still pelted the region, politicians and the media were leveling their Monday-morning-quarterbacking-opinions as to what should have been done, and who was at fault for not doing something differently. Texas Republican Gov. Greg Abbott urged residents to leave Houston during a news conference the day before hurricane Harvey hit. On the other hand, Huston’s Democratic Mayor Sylvester Turner didn’t see things this way and did not order a mandatory evacuation. As a result, now the blame game is in full force. It is amazing how humanity is more interested in fixing blame rather than fixing the problem. People in the Huston area want people to fix the mess they are in and not try and pin the blame on a donkey, or an elephant for that matter!

     How much of life is spent fixing blame on others for what did or did not happened to us? A person in a difficult marriage sees all the faults of their spouse and is oblivious of their own. So they fix blame on their spouse for a failed marriage, only to enter into another relationship with their own issues unaddressed. Perhaps an individual finds they are being dismissed from another job. They assure anyone who will listen that the corporate world is in need of a major overhaul in how they view and treat workers. Sadly, there is no consideration of what they may have done to generate such treatment. A child clashing with his or her siblings complains about the discipline they received from a parent. They insist their sibling was to blame and dismiss any part they contributed to the fracas. A friend agonizes over a broken relationship. They conclude their former friend was to blame for the fracture. Little consideration is given as to how to mend the relationship and even less to assume some level of responsibility for the demise. Perhaps this human propensity stimulated Benjamin Franklin to conclude, “He that is good for making excuses is seldom good for anything else."

     We live in a culture of victimization. This mindset concludes, “I am a victim of what happened and not a contributor to my painful experience.” This tendency to fix blame on others is not new.  It appeared in the early days after creation. In the biblical record of Genesis there is an account of Adam’s and Eve’s blame game. They had been given very clear directions related to the privileges they were to enjoy. They had a smorgasbord provided by God for them to enjoy in the perfect environment of Eden. God said, “Of every tree of the garden you may freely eat” (3:16). One tree, identified as the “tree of the knowledge of good and evil,” was prohibited from their menu. The warning was clear, “For in the day you eat of it you shall surely die” (3:17). God also provided Eve as a blessing of companionship and partnership so that man would not be alone (3:18). Even in this paradise a blame game arose. Two individuals decided to defy God’s plan and ate of the prohibited tree. How would the personal failure be addressed?

     The blame game set in immediately. Blame is passed from one to another. God confronts Adam with his failure to obey the divine directive by asking, “Have you eaten from the tree of which I have commanded you that you should not eat?” (3:11). Instead of taking responsibility for what he had done he tried to shift the blame and portray himself as the victim. He deflects the blame to Eve and to some extent to God saying, “The woman you gave to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I ate” (3:12). He portrays himself as the victim of God’s gift, the woman. He then suggests that he was forced by Eve to somehow participate. Eve also portrayed herself as a victim by saying, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate” (3:13). Here is the essence of the blame game: I am not responsible for my actions; I am a victim. Oprah Winfrey wisely points out, “You are responsible for your life. You can’t keep blaming somebody else for your dysfunction. Life is really about moving on.” People cannot really move on unless they see and accept their part in the situation.

     Theodore Roosevelt humorously observed, “If you could kick the person in the pants responsible for most of your trouble, you wouldn’t sit for a month.” We certainly see lots of things that are wrong in our world. Rather than place the blame on others, perhaps it would be wiser to acknowledge our contribution to the problem. Motivational speaker, Jim Rohn said, “You must take personal responsibility. You cannot change the circumstance, the seasons, or the wind, but you can change yourself. That is something you have charge of.” We must stop fixing blame and rather engage in fixing problems.       

A Work in Progress

Without a doubt there are many basements, garages, and possibly sowing baskets or closets containing unfinished projects. They most likely started with great intentions. However, somewhere in the project’s progress the intentions were possibly squelched by lack of funds, insufficient skills, and time constraints, or the most likely – lost interest. So the grand vision becomes a grand disappointment. It sits in some secluded spot until it suddenly resurfaces as we are searching for something other than that project. Upon seeing our unfinished masterpiece, possibly a tinge of conscience tugs at our sensibilities and we exclaim, “I need to get to that someday.” Perhaps what we need is a “closer” like the baseball pitcher that enters a game to finish the game and place a mark in the win column. If there was such an individual, I am sure he or she would be kept very busy addressing the massive pile of unfinished intentions littering human existence. 

     In art history there is a great debate about some of the sculptures of Michelangelo found in the Accademia Gallery museum in Florence, Italy. They are often referred to as Michelangelo’s prisoners or slaves and named by scholars as “The Awakening Slave,” “The Young Slave,” “The Bearded Slave,” and “The Atlas Slave.” The prominent feature reflected in all of these sculptures is that they appear unfinished. Art historians have given various interpretations regarding the works and declare these are examples of Michelangelo’s practice, referred to as “non-finito” (or incomplete). Of late some historians “now claimed that the artist deliberately left them incomplete to represent this eternal struggle of human beings to free themselves from their material trappings.” Good guess I suppose. However, without Michelangelo's explanation it is mere conjecture as to why his studio looked like my garage – littered with a number of unfinished projects.

     When it comes to God, He is supremely better at completing what he started. In the creation of the world and the universe Genesis 2:1 records, “Thus the heavens and the earth and all the host of them, were finished.” When caring for humanities great spiritual needs Jesus announces, “I have finished the work which You [God the Father] have given Me to do,” and then on the cross says, “It is finished” (John 17:4; 19:30). When it comes to describing people who have chosen to put their trust in what Jesus had finished, the Apostle Paul says, “You are complete in Him” (Colossians 2:10). He on another occasion adds, “He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:6). So which is it? Are we complete or will we be complete? The answer is, “Both.” We are a complete in that we are now a child of God. However, all that we can be as a child of God is in the process of being completed by being transformed into living like Christ (Romans 8:29).

     Years ago a speaker used to give out buttons to be worn by people who said they were followers of God. The button was printed with just a number of capital letters, “PBPWMGINFWMY.” When people asked what the letters meant they were told it meant, “Please be patient with me, God is not finished with me yet.” It is good to know that Christians are not claiming they live perfectly; they live purposefully – to be like the one they follow, Jesus Christ. Maybe that is why the Apostle Paul wrote that Christians were “saved unto good works” (Ephesians 2:10).

     Could Michelangelo’s prisoners or slaves sculptures be a good picture of what God is doing in Christians? In the Guide to the Accademia Gallery they write, “Michelangelo believed the sculptor was a tool of God, not creating but simply revealing the powerful figures already contained in the marble. Michelangelo’s task was only to chip away the excess.” God works in each of his children in such a way as to reveal what God has designed them to be. Sometimes he needs to use the proverbial mallet and the pointed chisel on a life to remove the unwanted material hiding what is there and what could be. At other time God uses finer finishing tools to refine the emerging image. The good news is this: God knows what He is doing and how it needs to be done. A life may look unfinished, but perhaps what we are seeing is a work in progress. 

Beauty Out of Brokenness

The statement you hear many times in the media is, “We are now a divided nation.” The statement could give the impression that this is something new for our nation. In fact, it is not. As we come to this holiday when we celebrate the Declaration of Independence, one needs to consider the historic realities of that period. The nation at that time was divided into factions. Historians tell us that there were two dominate parties. The Patriots (a.k.a. Whigs), were those colonists who rebelled against British control. The Loyalists (a.k.a. Tories or Royalists) on the other hand supported continued British rule. One historian, Robert Calhoon, suggests that between 40 - 45 % supported the Patriots' position, between 15 - 20% supported the Loyalists, and the remainder were neutral or stayed out of sight. Translating that percentage into the population of that day means there were about 380,000 to 500,000 Loyalists. Interestingly enough 80,000 Loyalists left the United States to protest the direction of the nation. This differs from protestors today who only threaten to do so.

     The rest of our nation’s history reflects great division and rancor from time to time. Think of the causes and concerns that have divided us (i.e. slavery, women’s right to vote, resistance to various wars, civil rights movement, right to life, and dozens of other examples). Division that sometimes occurs within the nation appears to be the norm, not the exception.

     The reality that must be faced is not that of division, but of the healing that needs to occur afterward. Division indeed makes a mess in a society. How the mess is addressed is another matter. One may just sweep the broken pieces of disagreement under the rug, or attempt to crush the pieces into oblivion, or ignore that anything needs to be done. These responses happen all too often. Another alternative is to take the jagged pieces and piece them together and create something beautiful out of brokenness.

     In the Japanese culture there is an art form called kintsugi ("golden joinery") or kintsukuroi ("golden repair"). Broken pottery shards are reattached to one another by mixing powdered gold, silver, or platinum with lacquer. Beautiful seams then appear in the restored pottery. According to Wikipedia, “It treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise.” Blogger Val Jon Farris writes, “Beholding the artistry of kintsugi one can immediately see its transformative power. Shattered pieces of a pristine vase are artfully rejoined with gold-laced epoxy to create a stunning masterpiece; and evoking an intriguing question. ‘If such astounding beauty can emerge from the shards of a shattered vase, could a similar transformation also be possible with the parts of us we believe are shattered beyond repair?’” (www.huffingtonpost.com)

     Too often we hear people in our current political/cultural turbulence voicing doomsday declarations announcing, “We are a nation divided beyond repair,” or “The situations we face are hopeless.” Perhaps we need a different perspective, seeking unique solutions, relying upon different resources, and believing Divine intervention is both possible and necessary. With this perspective beauty can come from brokenness.

     Many on July 4, 1776, saw thirteen “broken pieces,” colonies that would be powerless to face the British superpower. In the sweltering city of Philadelphia, men took the pieces and brought them together and applied the “gold dust” of faith beginning with the self-evident truths “that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” They concluded with words which epoxied the declaration together and wrote that their trust was upon “a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence.” To this they willingly committed themselves to “mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.” A stunning masterpiece was created from a rancorous and somewhat divided Second Continental Congress.

     God can do a similar thing in the broken lives of individuals. He can take the broken pieces and fashion them into a stunning masterpiece for His glory. He does this by His grace as people respond by faith in what He has done and what He can do. God is in the business of making beauty out of brokenness. The Bible describes that process in Ephesians 2:4-7. It is worth reading about and considering. God can make something beautify even out of the broken pieces of our life!   

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide… or is there?

     Living in a world filled with uncertainty may cause one to feel that they want to go and hide themselves. But where does one hide? The recent missile launches and threats of nuclear conflagration from the leader of North Korea aroused a memory of my elementary school days in the 1950s. Periodically the public schools of that day would have drills for the students in the event of a nuclear attack. The drill was to teach us protective actions to take during the initial minutes after an explosion. We would crawl under our desks, assume a fetal position, cover our heads, and as one teacher said, “Pray!” Very possibly today that last instruction would be prohibited in this climate of “theophobia.” This drill carried a label, “Duck and Cover.” Only years later did we learn that this exercise offered negligible protection depending upon the bomb’s yield and one’s distance from the explosion’s center. I remember after that disclosure sarcastically thinking in high school, “Great, all those wasted exercises!” I was somewhat encouraged later to realize the same “Duck and Cover” was recommended for tornadoes and earthquakes. Alas, all was not wasted!

     There are many things that happen in life that make us realize how vulnerable we are in this world. Perhaps the words of Martha and the Vandellas 60s rhythm and blues song, “Nowhere to run to, baby, nowhere to hide,” aptly depict of how many feel in our current culture. Recently it seems like “bad news” has to stand in line to be broadcast. What is the new health scare this week – mosquito or tick bites? What natural disaster is overtaking us – global warming or pollution? What social problem is dividing us – racial, sexual, gender, or generation? What spiritual deficiency is polarizing us – apathy, radicalism, bigotry, or ignorance? What governmental crisis is distressing us – political paralysis, scandal, ineptness, or burgeoning of the national debt? What financial concerns absorb or attention – paying bills, struggling to save, college debt, or personal indebtedness? Maybe the Vandellas words are right, “Nowhere to run to… nowhere to hide.”

     Was King David feeling like this when he wrote Psalm 61? Maybe it is reflective of his early life as he was on the run from King Saul who was intent on putting him to death. Most likely it is later in life when as king (61:6) he was on the run from his son Absalom who sought to kill him and rule in his place. This is certain, he was crying out to God in his adversity, “Hear my cry, O God: attend to my prayer. From the end of the earth I will cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed” (61:1-2). The words of David’s song reflect, unlike the words of the Vandellas, that he knew where to run and where to hide. He turns to God that he regards as, “the rock that is higher than I.” Then he uses words to describe who and what God is to him. He says God is “a shelter… a strong tower from the enemy” (61:3). He sees God as the place where he can, “trust in the shelter of your wings” (61:4). He ends the song not in the desperation in which it began, but with delightful assurance, “So I will sing praise to you forever” (61:8). David found a sure place to run to and a safe place to hide.

     Living in a sin-scared world has always been tough. A song writer of another era William O. Cushing (1823-1902) discovered this. He was raised in a Universalist family, but after reading the Bible as a teenager he became an orthodox believer. At 18 he trained to be a minister and served in small churches in upstate NY for 20 years. His wife died suddenly and he became depressed. Shortly afterward a creeping paralysis of his vocal cords left him unable to preach. At the age for 47 he found himself in an emotionally hopeless wilderness. He did, however, have a place to run – and that was to the Lord. During this time he wrote the words to the hymn, “Hiding in Thee.” In the following 30 years he went on to write 300 gospel songs. He ran where all can run “when our heart is overwhelmed.” Cushing’s testimony imbedded in the song was this: “How oft in the conflict, when pressed by the foe, I have fled to my Refuge and breathed out my woe; How oft when trials like sea bellows roll, Have I hidden in Thee, O thou Rock of my soul. Hiding in Thee, hiding in Thee, Thou blest Rock of Ages, I’m hiding in Thee.”

     In this uncertain world, we can do more than “Duck and Cover.” We can run to our Lord, who “is higher than I.” There is somewhere to run and someplace to hide!