Real Declarations?

It is that time of the year again where I enjoy standing in the grocery store aisle where people are buying Valentine’s cards. It is especially fun when the February 14 deadline is at hand. You get to watch people with a “no nonsense” expression on their face walk briskly toward the card rack hoping to find a card that still has a matching envelope. To some extent the electronic era is putting a crimp on my fun. Some have begun expressing their undying love, sacrifice, and fidelity by turning to a web site offering free e-cards that they were linked to in their Google search on “Valentine’s Day cards.” Somehow intimate expressions seem better expressed in a tangible way on an overpriced piece of paper picturing a couple about 10 years younger and 20 pounds lighter than the sender and their intended. Of course the card must be slathered with drippy words written by someone else to express their most personal sentiments of love and affection.

Standing at a distance, so as not to be elbowed by a frantic consumer, I observe various approaches to people’s selection. The “swoopers” slow but never really stop at the card rack. Within seconds they have verified the appropriate gender, relationship, match of card to envelope, and continue on to the candy isle without breaking pace. “Flippers” on the other hand stand before the display and flip the cards over to check the price of the card before reading the contents that express their priceless love. If a card is not within their range of fiscal limitations, it is returned to the rack without a further glance. Then there are the “grazers.” They read every card on the rack until they narrow their choice to the top three. Then they proceed with great indecisiveness to alternately put the cards back on the rack, only to pick them up again. Occasionally, I have felt so sorry for these individuals that I have wanted to offer to get them a folding chair and a literary adviser to help them with their decision. There is the rare purchaser for whom I really have no label. He nonchalantly picks out three different cards (and not for Mom, auntie, teacher, and friend!) and heads to the checkout. I figure he will have some other issues to deal with in the near future that are more problematic than the cost of a card and the sentiment expressed! If one of the recipients of those cards discovers she was not the sole benefactor of this affectionate expression from her “sweetheart,” the next card the sender will likely deal with will say, “Get Well!”

I suppose the real issue at Valentine’s Day is not the means of the expression, or its monetary value, or even the method by which a person went about choosing their expression of love and affection. The real issue is, “Was the declaration real?” Words can be so empty when they are devoid of reality. How many cards shared on Valentine’s Day will contain hallow words because what they express is not how things are? When words are linked with genuine affections that are verified by credible actions; then the words may be judged as a real declaration. Too often words are simply a sudden burst of emotional exuberance and not an expression of intentional investment and commitment. What people want on Valentine’s Day are real declarations of affection and love. Meaningless sentiments made to fulfill an obligation associated with a particular day historically connected to romance is not enough. Reality always trumps mere compliance.

Could this be the way God looks at people’s declarations of love? Might He ask of those declarations, “Are they real?” People are pretty casual at times when they declare their love for God. They may go to a worship service and casually declare their love for God as they sing. However, did they sing simply because those around them were, and not because it expressed their reality? Possibly even moments later they had little recall of what they sang.  Or perhaps someone puts them on the spot and asks them, “Do you love God?” The immediate response, almost indignant that such a question would need to be asked of them, “But of course!” Is that a real declaration or one that was appropriate at the time to save face?

Jesus knew that people’s declarations might not be genuine so he provided a simple means of verification. He said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15). John, a disciple who heard Jesus say this latter wrote, “Let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth” (1 John 3:18). He said this because he had seen Jesus express love by more than his words. John earlier wrote, “By this we know love, because He (Jesus) laid down His life for us” (3:16). Jesus’ declaration was real. His words were linked with genuine affections and verified by credible actions. This Valentine’s Day may our declarations be real too. Not only to people but also to God. Our world is in desperate need of such declarations.      

A Response to a Secret Mission

Ten years ago, Thanksgiving Day, November 28, 2003, President George W. Bush made a surprise visit to American troops on the battlefront in Baghdad, Iraq. Flying secretly to violence-scarred Iraq at great personal inconvenience and extreme risk, he went to be with the troops and to thank the U.S. forces for serving there. It was the first trip ever made by an American president to Iraq—a mission tense with concern about his safety.
            According to the Washington Post report, the president's plane – its lights darkened and windows closed to minimize chances of making it a target – landed under a crescent moon at Baghdad International Airport. He flew in on the plane he most often uses, and White House officials went to extraordinary lengths to keep the trip a secret, fearing its disclosure would prompt terrorist attempts to kill him. Even the president’s parents who traveled to Crawford, Texas, to spend the holiday with their son, were stunned when they learned of the trip upon arrival at the ranch.
            Some 600 soldiers, who were from the 1st Armored Division and the 82nd Airborne Division, had gathered at an airport mess hall for a Thanksgiving dinner. With the president out of sight, L. Paul Bremer, the chief U.S. civilian administrator, told the soldiers it was time to read the president's Thanksgiving proclamation, a task reserved for the most senior official present.
            "Is there anybody back there more senior than us?" he asked. That was the cue for President Bush, the Commander and Chief of the U.S. Armed Forces, to promptly step from behind the curtain. The shocked troops responded immediately with thunderous applause and cheers. The reception was overwhelming and displayed the support of the troops for President Bush and their gratitude to him for coming so many miles to be with them, even for a short time – just 2 ½ hours on the ground.
            The Washington Post said the president joked, "I was just looking for a warm meal somewhere. Thanks for inviting me. I can't think of finer folks to have Thanksgiving dinner with than you all."

            What would you have thought of the soldiers if they had responded with boos, cat-calls, and comments like, “We came for turkey not talking! We are not interested in political speeches! Who cares about George Bush?” You would rightfully conclude, “How ungrateful! How rude! What an inappropriate response!” Or what would you have thought had they not responded at all and essentially ignored him intent on getting on with life and dealing with the harsh realities of their existence. You might add, “How self-centered! How indifferent! What are they thinking?”

            Yet twenty-one centuries ago, a far greater secret mission of sorts was undertaken.  It was undertaken by the most senior official of the universe—the Commander and Chief of the Universe, the very Son of God—Jesus Christ.  He came to be with us. In fact, one of his names—Immanuel—means “God with us” (Matthew 1:23).  Yet when he came, his reception by the greatest majority of people was one of ingratitude, indifference, and incredible hostility. The Apostle John put it this way, “He was in the world, and though the world was made through Him, the world did not know Him. He came unto His own, and His own did not receive Him” (John 1:10-11). What ingratitude! What rudeness!

            But there were some who received the King of kings with joy, like the soldiers received President Bush. John continues, “But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become the children of God, to those who believe in His name” (John 1:12).

            How have you responded to the coming of the Commander and Chief of the Universe—Jesus Christ?  He has come to you!  He did not come with all of the perks of the President. There was no Air Force One, a special security detail, a secure military base on which to land, and the applause of his troops. Jesus came to earth as a baby. His first accommodation was an animal’s manger. He was cared for by a humble couple, who eight days later, could only afford to purchase for the purification sacrifice two turtle-doves (Luke 2:24) – indicating their poverty. They sought to destroy him (Matthew 2:13-14).

            Jesus did not come on his secret mission to cheer up the troops. He came because His Father, ‘so loved the world that he sent his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life” (John 3:16). President Bush’s secret mission brought temporary encouragement. Jesus’ secret mission brought the prospect of eternal hope. This season, give thanks for Jesus’ secret mission. It demands our appropriate response.

Remembering Mom at Thanksgiving

Two weeks before Thanksgiving 1969, my mother suddenly died due a massive stoke and subsequent heart attack. My Dad and I were in shocked disbelief. No warning prepared us for her death. Indeed, no warning would have done so. The days following the funeral found us going through our days like emotional zombies. Life was confusing. Emotionally we felt as cold and gloomy as the cold steel gray skies of November. Mom was without a doubt the keeper and the catalyst of joy in our home. Her absence left a void in our lives that transformed the home where we lived into just a house to which we came in the evening to pass away the night. With each new day there was an anticipation that things had to get better. There was even a vague hope this would be the day we were going to awaken from a bad dream. The new day, however, brought us more of the same. I moved home from college and became a commuter while trying to help my Dad with the household responsibilities. I was an inadequate replacement for my Mom’s knowledge and abilities. Yet my meager knowledge of the household operations was more than my Dad had. His world and his life revolved around his occupation. Now he was cast adrift in a world he did not know and frankly had little emotional energy to try and understand.

I was in my senior year of college and looking forward to marriage in the coming June. It should have been a time of excited plans and emotional joy. Now I anticipated a wedding my mother would never see. I focused upon meaningless issues like who would stand beside my Dad for wedding pictures? Who would host the bridal shower for my side of the family? Meaningless questions swirled in a confused mind where expectations were colliding with reality. Mom was not here and even things at a wedding months away would be different. How egocentric grief can become.          

As the Thanksgiving holiday loomed, Dad declared he didn’t feel like celebrating with a bunch of people. Now I was torn between caring for my Dad and spending time with my fiancée’s family as planned and promised. The weekend before the holiday my Dad was coerced into spend Thanksgiving Day with his sister. He grudgingly agreed and I guiltily made the trip from suburban Philadelphia to be with my fiancée’s family. A freak snow storm extended my stay in Lancaster for a day only heaping an extra measure of emotional guilt upon my shoulders. Any other time an extra day with the one I loved would have been a wonderful windfall.

The next gauntlet to face was Christmas. The foreboding thoughts began as soon as the last leftover turkey was tucked away in the Tupperware containers. The day after Thanksgiving meant a 1 ½ hour ride home and more time to think. I did not much feel like listening to songs about Frosty the Snowman or phrases about “peace on earth.” For Dad and me this was not a season of peace, it was a season of anxiety attached to an unknown future. Then I passed some familiar sites. The stand where Mom carefully selected our Christmas tree. A shopping center were Mom spent endless hours scouting out just the right gifts for family and friends. Our church where we celebrated the birth of Jesus Christ who came to make it possible to have eternal life and have a home in heaven. The thought, “Have a home in heaven,” echoed again in my mind. Then it came to me. While dad and I were consumed with our grief, Mom was joyously enjoying her home in heaven. Could I somehow enter into her joy?

That thought began to adjust some of my thinking as I went through the grieving process. I still missed Mom deeply. However, I began to challenge my grief with the hope that Christ made possible at Christmas. He came so that we could “have life, and have it more abundantly” (John 10:10). Jesus said previously in the verse that the thief, probably alluding to the Devil, “comes only to steal and kill.” The one who died for me, Jesus Christ, wants me to enjoy an abundant life and fullness of joy (John 15:11). Why then should I allow myself to “sorrow as others who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13). Such thinking only allows the “thief to come in and steal” what Christ came to offer to people as the angels announced, “Peace on earth, good will toward men” (Luke 2:14).        

On December 1, 1969, I set up a Christmas tree. It was probably the ugliest Christmas tree that was ever in our house. Picking trees was Mom’s expertise! The tree reminded me not only of Mom’s joy at Christmas, but also the joy she was enjoying in heaven right then. Suffering can easily steal our joy on earth, unless we focus upon the gift of eternal life that can never be taken away (Romans 6:23). Christ offers that to us and those who also have accepted Him by faith. That first Thanksgiving and Christmas were tough without Mom. My sorrow was tempered, however, by hope.           

Decades later at Thanksgiving, I still miss Mom. My thinking however has been transformed by hope. I thank God for every remembrance of her, and rejoice that she has all these years been enjoying her home in heaven and will for all eternity. Now at Thanksgiving I remember Mom with gratitude as God’s gift to our family and her friends and I give thanks. Then in amazement I recall, she is but one of the manifold blessings from God. “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.                   

Grandparent's Camp

Each year we try and arrange a week to have our three New York “north country” grandchildren visit us for an extended stay. Because they live six-and-a-half hours away by car, our visits with them are limited. So we look at these days as a strategic time for us to get to know them and for them to get to know us. What we learn about a person in a short burst of time is but a mere sketch of the person. It takes time to develop a portrait that more fully reflects an individual. One thing that my wife and I feel is important is to use this time to allow our grandchildren to know something about our faith as it is lived out in deeds as well as declarations. It is one thing to talk on the phone and hear about our faith. It is quite another thing to see how that faith works in day to day activities spanning the mundane to the significant. We take seriously the words of the Psalmist, “One generation shall praise your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts” (145:4).

The grandchildren refer to this time as “Grandparents Camp.” Their agenda is, I am sure, far different than ours. Our middle granddaughter summarized her view of the days saying, “This is time for you to spoil us.” This being interpreted means, special treats, lots of attention, and a good measure of leniency. Needless to say, grandchildren are “grandparent wise!” Her summary is probably not far from reality even if we try and strongly deny it! So the days before the “camp” the kitchen is filled with the aroma of baked cookies and other special treats. A trip is made to the store to purchase favorite cereal – three different kinds, to meet the expectations of three different sets of discriminating taste buds. There is a foray into the craft store which yields a project to occupy busy hands and to assure that there will be a creative creation to take home at the end of the time as a reminder of their visit. Connected to all of this is an intense investigation into potential day trips to expose three inquisitive minds to the wonders of “grandparent-land” in greater Lancaster County and surrounding regions.

            This year the schedule that worked best for our families was during the Fall Fair season. My Lancaster County wife was ecstatic as she saw this as a wonderful opportunity to expose her grandchildren to her childhood highlight – the Lancaster County fairs. My wife loves the animals, the vendors with their free stuff, the craft displays, and the farm and country atmosphere. However, when speaking of the fair a special smile appears on her face as she speak of “fair food” – nothing better in her mind than “fair fries.” After the second fair, it became obvious to me that her fair-fries-gene had been successfully passed on to the three grandkids from the “north country.”

            There was another thing that was important for us to pass along to those three youngsters at “Grandparent Camp.” We wanted them to know they were not only loved by us, but also deeply loved by God. Now this is not a new message to them. Their parents have been faithfully teaching them about God’s love as seen in Christ’s sacrifice for them on the cross (John 3:16). However, it is good for them to hear that same truth coming out of the lips of someone else that they know and love. In the evenings after a long day of adventure, laughter, and of course delicious treats, we slowed down with some games, reading books they chose, and then made time for talking. It was in those talks we revealed the “mighty acts” of God we had seen in our lives. The time was not a formal class of instruction. It was the type of teaching described in Deuteronomy done “when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up” (6:7). It is wonderful to be able to tell three little people that you deeply love that there is someone else you deeply love and his name is Jesus.

            Grandparent Camp is not just a time where grandkids learn lessons. It is also a time when grandparents learn lessons. There were two lessons that stood out to me as I watched those three youngsters during their extended stay. First, when removed from your normal place and pace of life, enjoy where you are. Their world in upstate New York is rural. They live on a farm and have vast areas where they can play. With us they were in a retirement community in an area that to them would be congested with people. They did not spend their time whining about the differences, but enjoyed the new opportunities where they found themselves. How often do I miss the joy and adventure of where I am because I am too busy comparing where I am with where I was?

            Second, when faced with an opportunity, I need to embrace the opportunity by faith. This is something that Jesus taught when he said, “Whosoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it” (Mark 10:15). My grandchildren had no idea where our daily adventure was going to take them. They simply got in the car with us, and trusted that we had their best interests at heart. How often do I overthink opportunities and think about the drawbacks and dangers that might be attached to an event rather than consider that this may be a wonderful opportunity to experience and learn new things? Am I willing to join in the journey God has for me believing that He has my best interests at heart?

            Grandparent camp has ended for another year. Will there be one next year? I have no idea. However, I will assure you, this was a worthwhile time. Memories I trust were created. Lessons perhaps were planted. But most of all love was expressed. Put all the elements of Grandparents Camp together and then borrowing the words of Master Card, “Priceless!”