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!          

Peter After Easter

The Apostle Peter is an interesting character as revealed to us in the Gospels, Acts, and the epistles he wrote. Sometimes I feel like I can identify with him in the emotional chaos of his life. A superficial look at his life reveals an emotional roller coaster with many highs often followed rapidly by deep lows. Peter has always struck me as a robust man. He was a man of the sea having made his livelihood in the family trade as a fisherman along the Sea of Galilee. His encounter with Jesus at the instance of his brother, Andrew, rocked his world. The fishing nets were set aside and he joined the mission of Jesus to become a “fisher of men.” He may have left his nets behind, but he brought his personality with him! Terms that could easily describe his life at times might be: perceptive, positive, risk-taker, leader, devoted, articulate, committed, and faithful. At other times, better words to depict him might be: fearful, betrayer, dense, deceived, unthinking, discouraged, defeated, emotional, impetuous, and unfaithful. His highs were nose-bleed high; his lows were Death Valley-deep. He frequently swung between the extremes like a pendulum.  

     Perhaps that is why I identify with him. My life at times feels like an emotional seesaw. Many also may feel that kind of connection to Peter’s personality. Our spiritual lives swing between soaring elation to bouts of sinking dejection. How does the Lord look upon such individuals? Does Jesus write us off or pour His love and grace into our wounded lives? Is there usefulness beyond the depth of defeat and despair?

     The events after Easter shed some light on that question. After the crucifixion Peter is in one of the low spots in his life. While Jesus was being tried Peter had denied him three times just as the Lord had predicted. As soon as the rooster crowed, the guilt of what he had done immediately crushed him and he went out and wept (Luke 22:62). Then Jesus was cruelly crucified and buried in a borrowed tomb. On Easter morning the resurrected Jesus gave a message to the startled women who came to the tomb to deal with the dead body of Jesus. He said to them, “Go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee” (Mark 16:7). Jesus reached out to Peter in the darkest time of his life to assure him that Jesus had not written him off. Peter’s failure did not signal his life was irreparable and his relationship to Jesus was finished. In those few words Jesus signaled to Peter that there is life beyond the depths of defeat.

     Perhaps Peter wondered after such a failure how fully his life could be restored to the relationship he once enjoyed. Maybe that is why in that post-resurrection period Peter decided his “career” with Jesus was over and he might as well return to his former occupation. Scripture reports, Simon Peter said to [the other disciples], ‘I am going fishing.’ They said to him, ‘We will go with you.’ They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing” (John 21:3). Jesus again reconnects to Peter in a post-resurrection appearance at a beach breakfast (21:15-19). He reinstates Peter to his calling of being a fisher of men and a shepherd of sheep. Jesus then does much more. He reveals that he wants a relationship with Peter – Peter’s love. Jesus never lost his love for Peter and he wants Peter to reaffirm his love for him. Paul’s words in a different context reveal the staying power of Jesus’ love by asking, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?” He then concludes, “We are more than conquerors through him who loved us… [nothing] else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:35, 37, 39). Even our foolish decisions and failures do not sever us from Christ’s love!

     Have you ever wondered what the Apostle Peter felt like after Easter? He was lower than dirt in the beginning, and later at that beach breakfast, higher than the skies. I have known the agony of spiritual defeat. I have also experienced the restorative love of a forgiving Savior. Paul reminds us about this Jesus, “If we are unfaithful, he remains faithful, for he cannot deny who he is” (2 Timothy 2:13).

     Peter discovered this. I have too. Have you? He can restore one feeling useless to renewed usefulness! What grace!

Way to Go Samaritan!

Often times it appears we live in a world of transient justice and social concern. This means rallying around an issue while it is a current crisis in the news until a newer issue comes along to garner one’s attention. People are prone to migrate from one crisis to another. After all, there are plenty of crises to consider around the world. Often this migration diminishes compassion for a former concern.  An illustration of this could be observed in Germany. This nation has been recognized as a leader in making donations in the refugee crisis in Europe. Between September and December 2015 the people of Germany gave 15.7 million euros in donations for refugees worldwide according to Aktion Deutschland, a relief agency that provides disaster relief in an alliance with 24 aid organizations. In comparison in the first three quarters of 2016, only 1.6 million euros were raised by aid organizations, even though the number of refugees worldwide was growing. In addition to the refugee crisis other people and issues have filled the news: hurricane victims, human trafficking, starving children, and earthquake victims. They in turn compete for the attention of the people donating to refugee causes. One sees this competition for donations in Germany in 2015, when 117 million euros were donated for refugees throughout the world, while 116 million euros were raised for earthquake victims in Nepal.

     Perhaps one needs to replace transient justice with transforming justice and social concern. This would involve looking at people not as causes in which to be involved but seeing people as individuals in need of genuine compassion and personal involvement. Such compassion is motivated not solely by the crisis at hand that requires intervention, but goes the extra mile by staying involved in alleviating the injustice one sees.

     There is an example of this kind of transforming compassion found in a well-known parable told by Jesus in Luke 10:25-37. The story reveals a man who is attacked, robbed, and left for dead. Along the road three men pass by individually. Two are religious leaders who see the crisis the man is in and individually determine not to become involved. The men who made this decision were aware of God’s Word that should guide their life, but determined other issues were more important than this man who was in crisis. Their religious law required, as another religious leader affirmed to whom Jesus told this parable, that they were to “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and love your neighbor as yourself” (10:27). Somehow they concluded such a requirement was not binding upon them at this moment and passed by on the other side intentionally distancing themselves from the man near death.

     The third individual comes upon the same man in crisis. This man would have been regarded by the two previous religious leaders as irreligious because he was a Samaritan. He followed what Jews considered a non-approved religious system centered in Gerizim not Jerusalem. This man got involved in the man’s messy crisis. He was engaged emotionally and “was moved with compassion” (33). His compassion for the man near death moved him to become involved physically and financially. He gave of his time to bandage him up even in the face of surrounding danger. He invested his resources from his own supplies – wine and oil (34). He gave up his comfort by placing the man on his only mode of transportation – a donkey. Finally, he made a commitment to be engaged in the long haul by making provision so the man’s needs would be cared for completely (35). He did not disengage after making a donation, he made a longer term commitment to the man who had been in crisis and faced injustice. He engaged in transforming involvement not transient justice.

     Jesus asked a simple question, “Which of these three was a neighbor to this man?” (36). The man who listened to this parable answered correctly, “The one who had mercy on him [who was robbed and abused]” (37). Jesus replied, “Go and do likewise.” He challenged the man to display transforming justice marked by compassionate merciful actions. The Apostle John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, wrote, “This is how we know what love is: Jesus laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need and has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and truth” (1 John 3:16-18).

     Often we see signs posted in lawns with a message written in three languages which says, “No matter where you are from, we’re glad you’re our neighbor.” I have nothing against the sign in the yard or its message, unless it is not backed up with actions of mercy to the one we say is our neighbor. We need more than posters planted in our yard. We need people embedded in our hearts so that we respond to them with acts of mercy and grace. People with hearts like this are in the business of transforming justice.

     Way to go Samaritan! You turned compassion into transforming action that impacted the life of another. Our world is in great need of people like him.  

That Is So Childish

Perhaps all branches of government need to take a field trip to a nursery school. The excursion would not be to make a political speech or provide a photo opportunity, but to learn some life lessons. Apparently, regardless of the political party or branch of government, there is a need for a refresher course on how to “play” with one another. One might argue that what they do is no game. Certainly this is true due to national and international implications of their decisions. Since the charge, “They act so childishly,” is being leveled both by and about political leaders, perhaps it would be beneficial for them to observe how childish nursery school children act.

     Imagine they do take this field trip. They first go to the “Building Blocks Learning Table.” At this table several children are busily trying to gather as many blocks as their pudgy little hands can grasp. No one is actually building anything, they are just focused upon the blocks another child has and desperately want those blocks to be in their pile. A patient nursery worker asks the children, “What do you want to build? Do you really need more blocks?” The child’s motivation is not so much about accomplishment as it is about acquisition. As the members of the field trip move to the next learning station they hear the nursery worker say, “You need to share. We only have so many blocks to go around.” The officials walk to the next table saying, “How childish!”

     The “Art Station” is next. There children are working with finger paints. Their smocks of repurposed long sleeve dress shirts are covered with splotches of color. The paper taped to the table is a mass of colors beginning to bleed into one another. One child reaches over to a neighbor’s “painting” and contributes a splotch of color from their hand without any regard to what their neighbor is trying to paint. The intrusion is met with resistance. Now four colorful hands are no longer interested in the project on their papers. They begin protecting themselves and retaliating for the encroachment on their masterpiece. Now the art project and paper is not the focus; the focus is to plaster paint on the person that has angered them. Calmly the nursery worker intervenes saying, “Children, you need to work on your own project not your neighbors. Treat one another as you would want them to treat you and your project.” The field trip participants walk away shaking their heads saying, “How childish!”

     The field trip now moves outside to the playground. There children are playing “Duck, Duck, Goose.” The game’s rules have been clearly explained and the children have even played this before. Today, however, several children have decided to ignore the rules, or perhaps they don’t like how the game is going and have made up a few new rules of their own. Chaos ensues. Children are randomly running around, bumping into one another, getting angry, becoming confused, and starting to become emotionally unglued. The playground worker intervenes and sternly says, “We have to play by the rules or no one will enjoy the game.” The worker continues, “Let’s review the rules of the game again.” Again the governmental observers mumble, “How childish!”

     Imagine back in Washington, DC, the members of the field trip excursion meet to undergo an evaluation of their experience. To their surprise the facilitator of the evaluation is the director of the nursey school. She asks them what they observed. The politicians critically catalogued the offenses of the children. After a pause the director of the nursery school responded, “What you saw was children acting their age. Perhaps that is the difference between the children you observed and you, our esteemed leaders. They act their age; you don’t.” Often we all act that way.

     Why does that happen? The Bible seems to indicate it is not so much a factor of maturity as it is a reflection of our nature. We read in James 4:1-2 (NKJ) “Where do wars and fights come from among you? Do they not come from your desires for pleasure that war in your members? You lust and do not have. You murder and covet and cannot obtain. You fight and war.” James is talking to people who are living in a Christian community and have been instructed by their ultimate leader, Jesus, to “be one” (John 17:11, 22). Yet they were quarreling and fighting (James 4:1). James offers a prognosis for this aggression saying it is connected to self-absorption, “your desires for pleasure are at war.” The word for “pleasure” used here comes from a Greek word from which we get the English word “hedonism.” The idea is that wars come from people living only to please themselves. This self-absorption leads to self-assertion of wanting one’s own way and being frustrated when you don’t achieve your desires. James thus presents a formula related to fighting: Feeling (lust) + Frustration (do not have… cannot attain) = Fighting and wars. This formula manifests itself in all sorts of human relationships including families, governments, churches, workplaces, and a host of other human dynamics.

     James offers an antidote for these wars. Look for solutions beyond yourself. Specifically he points to seeking God’s direction through self-less praying (4:2-3). He adds that humility is a necessary ingredient (4:6, 10) to neutralize war-like qualities. Living life that is not focused upon us and our agendas certainly minimizes conflict. Wisely James indicates a key component to combat conflict is yielding control of one’s life. Be willing to submit, especially to God, while resisting “devilish” impulses (4:7). If we are always attempting to control others, we manifest a character that elevates us over others. Perhaps we all need to live less childishly and more biblically. 

     Incidentally, my apologies to preschoolers for possible comparisons made between them and governmental and political leadership!           

Weather Generated Worry

     A friend recently posted a hilarious chart entitled “How different snowfall amounts affect different parts of the country.” The chart lists different snow “depths” down one side and on the top it listed three different geographical regions: East Coast; The South; and Midwest. For example, the chart listed for “Flurries, less than inch” the following regional responses: East Coast – “Commute times increased by 25-50%;” The South – “Mild panic and a sense of doom;” Midwest – “Start to think about wearing long pants – Maybe.” After a number of incremental increases the chart indicates responses to “12-24 inches”: East Coast – “Schools closed, as well as businesses, airports, hospitals, and all non-essential government services;” The South – Federal Disaster declared. National Guard called in;” and Midwest – “Minor traffic delays.” Finally the chart gets to “36+ inches.” The chart then reads: East Coast – “Jim Castore of the Weather Channel spotted;” The South – “Nothing left alive except for some burrowing mammals which will eventually evolve and repopulate the region;” Midwest – “Snow Day! Yay! (Except for you. You still have to go to work).” Those from the Midwest laugh and those from the South say, “Sounds reasonable to me!”

     Face it; we are impacted by the weather generated worry – not just regionally but also individually. Several weeks ago we were visiting our son between Christmas and New Year’s. He lives in the “snow belt” region of upstate New York due east of Lake Ontario near the Tug Hill plateau. This region is famous for its lake effect snow storms known for producing 3-4 feet of whiteout snow conditions. I had been looking forward to the time spent with him and his family as well as our daughter and her family who were to join us in the area as well. After arriving in the Boonville region we started hearing the weather forecaster’s ominous warning of heavy lake effect snow. By the second day they posted a “Lake Effect Snow Warning” assuring us that the storm was immanent with more than 2 feet of snow and winds between 30-40 mph. The snowy conditions were to impact our entire route into middle Pennsylvania. Weather generated worry developed. I began periodically – every half hour or so – to check the weather forecast on my “tablet.” They concurred that the forecast did not look good. On the third day we awoke to snow falling at a pretty good rate. We made the decision shortly after noon to head home early before conditions deteriorated any further. Meanwhile my son and his family finalized their plans to meet up with my daughter’s family to go to an area camp’s automated tubing slope about a half-hour from their house. So as we packed up to drive six hours south, they bundled up to play in the snow. Weather generated worry robbed me of the joy and laughter with six grandchildren. By the way, the next day when we were to leave, the skies were blue and the roads were clear! Another forecast gone awry!

     This experience caused me to reflect on the words of Jesus to an audience who listened to his Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 6:25-34. Three times (verses 25, 31, 34) Jesus says to his listeners, “Do not worry.” The Greek word for “worry” he used there is a combination of two words – one meaning “to divide” and the other “mind” – thus we could say, “Stop having a divided mind.” Jesus is telling the people to stop focusing upon the “what ifs of life” and rather focus upon God who cares for them. The people that listened to Jesus were focused upon the normal details of life – food, drink, and dress. Jesus challenges them to focus upon God who knows they need these things (verse 32). He exhorts them to have faith that God is capable to see that their needs will be met by him.

   Adding to this challenge Jesus asks a significant question, “Can worry change anything?” (verse 27). Worry can’t increase the span of life. Collaborating that statement Dr. Charles Mayo of the renown Mayo Clinic noted, “Worry affects the circulation, the heart, the glands, and the whole nervous system. I have never known a man or woman to die of overwork, but I have known a lot who have died of worry.” Our English word “worry” comes from the German word würgen "to strangle." That is exactly what worry does to us – it strangles the life out of us.

     Jesus concludes this portion of his message by saying, “Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes” (verse 34 The Message). Dave Egner correctly observes, “Worry superimposes the future on the present… Worriers live in the future. They spend a disproportionate amount of time speculating on what might occur, and fearing the worst.” The alternative is to realize, “When tomorrow arrives, there will be new troubles, but also renewed strength. God has not given us strength today for tomorrow’s difficulties” (William Hendriksen).

     I allowed weather generated worry to rob me of a fun-filled day on the tubing hill, enjoying grandchildren, creating memories, and laughing to my heart’s content. They emailed pictures of the day, but they could not forward the joy. Worry can be a big robber in our lives. What other things have I allowed it to rob from me because I do not heed Jesus’ admonitions about worry? Charlie Brown said, “I developed a new philosophy… I dread only one day at time.” I have a better philosophy, “I can live one day at a time confident that God knows and can supply my needs.”