Back on June 13, 2005 I wrote the following journal. After a posting on Facebook by my son relating to churches and helping the needy, I couldn't resist posting this here today. Please read with an open mind:
As one steps out the front door of the clinic that I administrate in downtown Texarkana, TX, one immediately sees the spire of the historic St. James Episcopal Church about a block and a half away. Atop the high spire is a brass cross that can be seen from most points in the downtown area.
Recently I noticed a large “cherry picker” crane pull up to the church and workers ascend to the cross. For two days I observed as they repaired and polished the cross. As I watched I began to wonder how much was invested in that one small brass cross? No doubt, between the crane, labor, and repair materials the cost was hundreds, and maybe thousands of dollars. How many times through the years has the cycle of repair been going on? It seems I always ask myself questions like that. I guess I’m just too pragmatic, or maybe it’s that I just find some things, “wasteful,” spending.
Allow me to explain: If you know anything about old downtown here, you know that within the shadow of that cross homeless people sleep nightly, drug addicts shoot up, alcoholics and derelicts wander, and prostitutes ply their trade. While the cross is being repaired and polished human suffering is abounding at its foot. I’m wondering if this pleases the Christ who died on the cross over two thousand years ago.
Would he rather that a replica of His instrument of death is repaired and polished, or that human suffering is alleviated?
I’m sure I know the answer to that question! After all, He is the one that instructed His followers to care for the sufferings of the poor and needy. It was He who was called, “a friend to sinners.” It was His brother, the Apostle James, who said, “Pure religion and undefiled before God the Father is this, to keep himself unspotted from the world and to visit the orphans and widows in their affliction.”
Over the past 60 years I have not only witnessed, but participated in a huge plethora of cross repairing and polishing. Now I wonder at its validity, and just how much it pleases and glorifies the Christ that we portend to honor?
I’ve sat with committees that spent days, weeks, and even sometimes years poring over things that were basically only “cross polishing.” Everything has to be in order, every “t” crossed and every “I” dotted. We have attempted to “keep the doctrine pure,” and be sure and polish away anything that we see as a mar or defect. Sometimes that even included removing imperfect people, so that the fellowship and the church could “shine.” I’ve seen “imperfect” servants of God polished away and erased because they were seen as a blemish on our brightly polished cross of doctrinal or moral purity. Past sin, long under the blood, is still paraded before them and used to “disqualify” them from service. Take a look at the list of Christ’s followers and disciples, read the list of the faith heroes in Hebrews 11, and one will quickly conclude that many that would be erased in the church today were used of God to accomplish His purposes!
Lately the “religious right” has spent its energies again lambasting the television industry for daring to air a show that shows the humanity of an Episcopal pastor and his family, and his rather unique connection to Christ. All that time and energy could be better spent dealing with human suffering and pain. But after all, we want to be sure our cross is repaired and polished. God forbid that the world should see us as we really are, people who are still much less than perfect and dealing daily with issues of life just like everyone else. Jesus didn’t come into the world to be different from man, but to become man and feel his hurts, frustrations, and pains and to provide a way that those can be redeemed.
Maybe they are right and maybe they are wrong, but what I do know is that recently the news reported that a methamphetamine crazed man and woman killed their own 15 year old son. I received a report today of an 11 year old that tried to hang himself because his parents were drug addicts, among other issues. On a daily basis I meet with people whose lives are wrecked and lie in shambles at their feet. I do know that every where you look and hear mankind is troubled, lost, and helpless.
Yet, it is so easy to retire to our nice secluded brick homes in “safe” neighborhoods, sip our coffee and munch our tasties, and get on the Internet and rant and rave over Hollywood, TV, politicians, homosexuals etc. Then we get in our autos, drive to church, do all our worshiping inside the “sacred” walls, go to a nice restaurant to “fellowship” with those who think like we do. We talk about everything, including the preacher and the song (oh excuse me, the worship leader) and revel in our own sense of holiness. We have become nothing more than cross polishers!
I heard Dan Betzer say once of churches that built up huge bank and savings accounts, “What are they doing, saving it for the anti-christ?” I wonder that also about brazen crosses over copper steeples and buildings that are elaborate and grossly overly ornate. If we truly believe in the soon coming of Christ, would it not be more in order to spend our funds on the people for whom Christ died rather than on buildings and programs that will be left behind?
I recall Dave Roever once saying that if your brother was killed by someone with a gun, would you mount the gun on the wall? Good point, Dave!
Update (January 18, 2006): Today, my secretary and I got on this very subject. She told me of a homeless alcoholic that several years before had wandered the streets of Texarkana. She and the mailman for that area would find him and give him food and necessities, and find him shelter in inclement weather. Later he was beaten to death in the street by an addict. I went into my office and sent her the above journaling by email. As she was reading it, I heard her gasp, and she called out from her office to mine, “Oh my goodness, Len, that is the same church that we often found him sleeping on its back steps.” Yep, they polished the cross, but they missed one of His, “Little Ones.”
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Saturday, June 6, 2009
D-Day Thots
"On this day in 1944, American and Allied troops came ashore in France at Normandy as part of Operation Overlord. More than 9,000 troops were killed or wounded." --- Longview News-Journal Headlines today
...And there were stories of honors given today in France, a picture of the President with white rose in hand along with survivors, and quotes honoring the great heroics of that day. It would be 7 months yet before I made entrance into the world in an old red brick hospital in Corsicana, TX but I do have a very special memory of my own, of D-Day!
It's been close to 25 years now that my phone rang about 2 in the morning. The dear lady calling said, "Pastor I hate to bother you, but Steve needs you I think." I hurriedly threw some clothes on and made my way to the simple clap-board house where they lived. She was waiting in the doorway for me and allowed me in with a hug.
There was Steve sitting in the middle of the floor in only his boxers and undershirt. He appeared to be in another world as he sat cross legged stroking the air about 8 inches above the carpet. I sat down beside him, cross legged as well. As I noted his demeanor and eyes that appeared to be seeing things I couldn't see, I softly asked, "Hey Steve, what do you have there?"
He looked up and said, "Oh I was just petting this little dog...isn't he pretty?" Without breaking stride of the moment I reached my hand out with his and began to pet and stroke Steve's imaginary puppy and said, "Yeah Steve, that's a sweet puppy." We talked for a bit about the puppy that wasn't there, and a few other non-consequential things...
Eventually Steve reminded me that he was a WW2 veteran, and as we petted the puppy he began to tell me a story that had been buried in his soul for over 40 years...it was something his dear wife told me later that he had never shared with her any one else.
Steve related how as a kid soldier of 19 he was on a landing barge that fateful day with his platoon and they hit the beach in one of the early waves of the attack...mortar shells were screaming and landing all around him, wide-eyed he watched as fellow soldiers fell to the shells and shrapnel...finally, with several losses his platoon was in a wooded area where they "hunkered down," and waited. After a bit, the platoon leader made Steve the "point-man," to go down the trail near them and report back. Holding his rifle, bayonet in place, securely in firing position he carefully moved along the forested trail...suddenly to his surprise, he was confronted with a German soldier, rifle also in place only about 15 feet from him. His mind already spinning, adrenalin massive, and trying to comprehend the carnage he had already witnessed, he realized it was, "kill or be killed." Tears were now flowing like a fountain, as he moaned a dreadful and agonizing moment; he said, "Pastor, he was only a kid like me, maybe 15. I fired first and he fell. I killed him. I've begged God to forgive me for so many years, but I killed him...that's one of God's commandments, and I killed him. God can't forgive me of that."
I just got closer, reached over and held Steve in my arms and wept with him. As our weeping began to ebb, I shared with Steve the unlimited grace of God, the understanding of God, and that God had forgiven him long ago, but that he was tormented by his own ghosts of that horrible day long ago in a forest at Normandy. We just sat there and prayed together, then Steve looked up at me and smiled!! The torment of 40 years rushed out of him like a zephyr, and a total peace came into the dimly lit room, and rested in his soul. The puppy was gone, and God's love filled our hearts.
About a year after this Steve became ill, went to the VA hospital, and in a short time passed away. It was my privilege to officiate the funeral of not only a war hero, but of a man released of the terror and fright of the past with the awfulness of his deed.
Today I wish to remember Steve and all those other young men on that day, their terror, and what they may have later gone through in life...back then they called it, "Shell-shock," Today we refer to it as PTSD. Whatever it is, I know by my experience with Steve that night that it is not beyond the grace of God!!!!
Today I pause and salute Steve and all the many tens of thousands of true heroes!!!
STEVE, REST IN PEACE IN THE ARMS OF HE WHO LOVES YOU AND FORGAVE YOU!!!!
...And there were stories of honors given today in France, a picture of the President with white rose in hand along with survivors, and quotes honoring the great heroics of that day. It would be 7 months yet before I made entrance into the world in an old red brick hospital in Corsicana, TX but I do have a very special memory of my own, of D-Day!
It's been close to 25 years now that my phone rang about 2 in the morning. The dear lady calling said, "Pastor I hate to bother you, but Steve needs you I think." I hurriedly threw some clothes on and made my way to the simple clap-board house where they lived. She was waiting in the doorway for me and allowed me in with a hug.
There was Steve sitting in the middle of the floor in only his boxers and undershirt. He appeared to be in another world as he sat cross legged stroking the air about 8 inches above the carpet. I sat down beside him, cross legged as well. As I noted his demeanor and eyes that appeared to be seeing things I couldn't see, I softly asked, "Hey Steve, what do you have there?"
He looked up and said, "Oh I was just petting this little dog...isn't he pretty?" Without breaking stride of the moment I reached my hand out with his and began to pet and stroke Steve's imaginary puppy and said, "Yeah Steve, that's a sweet puppy." We talked for a bit about the puppy that wasn't there, and a few other non-consequential things...
Eventually Steve reminded me that he was a WW2 veteran, and as we petted the puppy he began to tell me a story that had been buried in his soul for over 40 years...it was something his dear wife told me later that he had never shared with her any one else.
Steve related how as a kid soldier of 19 he was on a landing barge that fateful day with his platoon and they hit the beach in one of the early waves of the attack...mortar shells were screaming and landing all around him, wide-eyed he watched as fellow soldiers fell to the shells and shrapnel...finally, with several losses his platoon was in a wooded area where they "hunkered down," and waited. After a bit, the platoon leader made Steve the "point-man," to go down the trail near them and report back. Holding his rifle, bayonet in place, securely in firing position he carefully moved along the forested trail...suddenly to his surprise, he was confronted with a German soldier, rifle also in place only about 15 feet from him. His mind already spinning, adrenalin massive, and trying to comprehend the carnage he had already witnessed, he realized it was, "kill or be killed." Tears were now flowing like a fountain, as he moaned a dreadful and agonizing moment; he said, "Pastor, he was only a kid like me, maybe 15. I fired first and he fell. I killed him. I've begged God to forgive me for so many years, but I killed him...that's one of God's commandments, and I killed him. God can't forgive me of that."
I just got closer, reached over and held Steve in my arms and wept with him. As our weeping began to ebb, I shared with Steve the unlimited grace of God, the understanding of God, and that God had forgiven him long ago, but that he was tormented by his own ghosts of that horrible day long ago in a forest at Normandy. We just sat there and prayed together, then Steve looked up at me and smiled!! The torment of 40 years rushed out of him like a zephyr, and a total peace came into the dimly lit room, and rested in his soul. The puppy was gone, and God's love filled our hearts.
About a year after this Steve became ill, went to the VA hospital, and in a short time passed away. It was my privilege to officiate the funeral of not only a war hero, but of a man released of the terror and fright of the past with the awfulness of his deed.
Today I wish to remember Steve and all those other young men on that day, their terror, and what they may have later gone through in life...back then they called it, "Shell-shock," Today we refer to it as PTSD. Whatever it is, I know by my experience with Steve that night that it is not beyond the grace of God!!!!
Today I pause and salute Steve and all the many tens of thousands of true heroes!!!
STEVE, REST IN PEACE IN THE ARMS OF HE WHO LOVES YOU AND FORGAVE YOU!!!!
Monday, May 25, 2009
MORE LORD????????
Today I am pondering...just wondering. Folks often seem to be intent on what God has for them...they cry, "More Lord"...more of what??? If they really believe then they know He has already given them His all through Christ. They ask, "I wonder what the Lord has in store for ME today?" Hmmmm, what more could He give, and besides He has promised us to never leave or forsake us...He is with us now and always. I keep asking myself what the word, MORE might mean to God...if I were Him I think I'd be offended..."I've already given them My Son, My Life, My all, and they want MORE???...I'm always with them and keep them, and given them My Spirit, and they want MORE??" "I've promised them eternal life, and they want MORE??" Methinks we are most selfish as human beings...after all there are untold millions who have NONE of Him, because instead of reaching out to them, we busy ourselves with prayers of, "More Lord." We chase a feeling and emotional highs, when we already have ALL that He is! What do we say to those who have NONE because we never shared with them????
We're like the little tot, who given something special or who in doing something special for them, immediately say, "Do it again," or "More." Perhaps God will someday get tired of being "SugarDaddy." And oh yeah, Lord, be with all the starving pigmies in New Guinea.
We're like the little tot, who given something special or who in doing something special for them, immediately say, "Do it again," or "More." Perhaps God will someday get tired of being "SugarDaddy." And oh yeah, Lord, be with all the starving pigmies in New Guinea.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
People or Poo???
My Darling Nora just spent 9 miserable days in the hospital with double (or as is medically correct, bi-lateral) pnuemonia. Thankfully she is now home and on the road to recovery. Of course I spent lots of hours with her both in ICU and IMC. One thing about hospital "patient sitting" is that there is not all that much to do, and when the patient is sleeping most of the time it becomes even more boring. I did get to finish the book that Kelly sent for my birthday, "The Shack." I loved it even though conservative critics are whining because in God's Theophany, He appears as a jolly black lady. Heck, I figure if He is God, that means he can appear as whatever He wants to appear, and I needn't worry my little brain about it!!
Anyway, one day while flipping channels on the TV, we came across a show called, "Dirty Jobs." The particular dirty job featured for that day was a zookeeper, whose specific job was to clean up and dispose of all the different animals' poo. Needless to say I saw more poo, and different kinds of poo than I'd ever seen in my life. I was taught that it was a real art to clean up zoo poo and properly dispose of it! The show moderator, who was interviewing to poo scooper as the show went along, pointed out that this particular poo person had formerly worked in human relations at the zoo before becoming the chief pooper-scooper.
In a sort of reflective tone he asked the chief p-s, if now that he had done both jobs he would rather work with people or with poo. With little hesitation, Mr. Pooper-Scooper smiled and enthusiastically said he'd rather work with poo than with people.
Now at first thought that is a real stretch...choosing to work with nasty, stinky poo, rather than work with freshly bathed and cologned humans. But now that I think about it sometimes we freshly bathed and cologned humans can at the same time be nasty and stinky!! Somehow it comes over to me that as a part of this "human" thing, that I should be bothered that someone would rather scoop poo than deal with me. I think it should bother us all!
In a moment of "rigorous honesty," I can and do recall times when my attitude, my words, and my actions were nasty and stinky! I don't really think it is very becoming of me to have someone think after being around me, "Boy, his attitude stinks and he has a nasty humor." No matter my rationalizations and justifications I'm sure I never first asked myself WWJD? There I go on that thought again!!! Come on now, get honest and admit it...you've been stinky and nasty too!!!
Paul talked about his poo in Philippians 3: 4-8. His poo among many things included those things that he had lost due to his desire to win Christ...."Circumcised the eighth day of the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, an Hebrew of the Hebrews; as touching the law a pharisee; Concerning zeal, persecuting the church; touching the righteousness which is in the law, blameless. But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea, doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung (poo), that I may win Christ."
Well Paul confessed that he had quite a large poo pile! It seems his pile was stacked high with pride of pedigree, devotion to God, and his long list of works that he had done in the name of God and the law.
A dear pastor bemoaned to me once, "I love pastoring, it's the people I can't stand." Now do I really think this pastor didn't like people? No, I think it was their poo that distressed him. Many young, aspiring people feel "called" to pastor or other ministry, having no clue that a big part of pastoring is having to smell people's poo, and being a pooper scooper! It's kinda like wanting to have a baby but not wanting to change diapers!!
And hey, I didn't mind changing diapers for my kids when they were infants and little ones...but at 41, 36, and 28 now I leave it up to them to care for those basics of life!! Now that's a quaint thought...what if we all just took care of our own poo?? After all, we're not animals in the zoo or infants...surely we can manage. We each have all kinds of people poo; there's attitude, arrogance, judgmentalism, self-righteousness, selfishness, anger (yep, that's all poo!), and the list goes on! Yeah, just what if each of us admitted to ourselves and God our poo, and cleaned it up through prayer, meditation, humility, and loving God and our fellow man more than we love ourselves?? Maybe that poor pastor's feeling towards the people he pastors might show incredible improvement!!
One more thing...we say we want to be witnesses to the "world." I wonder if the "world" can smell our poo too????
Well, 'xcuse me now I have to sign off. A little voice in my heart just reminded me of some poo in my life I need to get rid of.......
Anyway, one day while flipping channels on the TV, we came across a show called, "Dirty Jobs." The particular dirty job featured for that day was a zookeeper, whose specific job was to clean up and dispose of all the different animals' poo. Needless to say I saw more poo, and different kinds of poo than I'd ever seen in my life. I was taught that it was a real art to clean up zoo poo and properly dispose of it! The show moderator, who was interviewing to poo scooper as the show went along, pointed out that this particular poo person had formerly worked in human relations at the zoo before becoming the chief pooper-scooper.
In a sort of reflective tone he asked the chief p-s, if now that he had done both jobs he would rather work with people or with poo. With little hesitation, Mr. Pooper-Scooper smiled and enthusiastically said he'd rather work with poo than with people.
Now at first thought that is a real stretch...choosing to work with nasty, stinky poo, rather than work with freshly bathed and cologned humans. But now that I think about it sometimes we freshly bathed and cologned humans can at the same time be nasty and stinky!! Somehow it comes over to me that as a part of this "human" thing, that I should be bothered that someone would rather scoop poo than deal with me. I think it should bother us all!
In a moment of "rigorous honesty," I can and do recall times when my attitude, my words, and my actions were nasty and stinky! I don't really think it is very becoming of me to have someone think after being around me, "Boy, his attitude stinks and he has a nasty humor." No matter my rationalizations and justifications I'm sure I never first asked myself WWJD? There I go on that thought again!!! Come on now, get honest and admit it...you've been stinky and nasty too!!!
Paul talked about his poo in Philippians 3: 4-8. His poo among many things included those things that he had lost due to his desire to win Christ...."Circumcised the eighth day of the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, an Hebrew of the Hebrews; as touching the law a pharisee; Concerning zeal, persecuting the church; touching the righteousness which is in the law, blameless. But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea, doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung (poo), that I may win Christ."
Well Paul confessed that he had quite a large poo pile! It seems his pile was stacked high with pride of pedigree, devotion to God, and his long list of works that he had done in the name of God and the law.
A dear pastor bemoaned to me once, "I love pastoring, it's the people I can't stand." Now do I really think this pastor didn't like people? No, I think it was their poo that distressed him. Many young, aspiring people feel "called" to pastor or other ministry, having no clue that a big part of pastoring is having to smell people's poo, and being a pooper scooper! It's kinda like wanting to have a baby but not wanting to change diapers!!
And hey, I didn't mind changing diapers for my kids when they were infants and little ones...but at 41, 36, and 28 now I leave it up to them to care for those basics of life!! Now that's a quaint thought...what if we all just took care of our own poo?? After all, we're not animals in the zoo or infants...surely we can manage. We each have all kinds of people poo; there's attitude, arrogance, judgmentalism, self-righteousness, selfishness, anger (yep, that's all poo!), and the list goes on! Yeah, just what if each of us admitted to ourselves and God our poo, and cleaned it up through prayer, meditation, humility, and loving God and our fellow man more than we love ourselves?? Maybe that poor pastor's feeling towards the people he pastors might show incredible improvement!!
One more thing...we say we want to be witnesses to the "world." I wonder if the "world" can smell our poo too????
Well, 'xcuse me now I have to sign off. A little voice in my heart just reminded me of some poo in my life I need to get rid of.......
Saturday, March 21, 2009
W. W. J. D. Again!!!
Today has been one of those kinda busy, kinda lazy days...spent lots of time resting and sitting on the patio with a large ice tea and just playing with the puppies. A few weeks ago I got an invite to Facebook.com, and said,"Oh what the heck," and signed up. Amazingly I already have over 100 friends, some from high school and college days that I haven't heard from in years, and interesting some folks who I've never heard of before! I don't get much involved in the causes, quizzes, requests, and other stuff that takes way too much time. I get notes from the kids and grandkids occasionally and I do answer those, and try to answer all personal notes. I bet you are already wondering where in tarnation this is going, so I will get to the point.
During one of my trips inside for more ice tea I stopped by the computer room and checked email and the old Facebook. In the middle of my laziness and do nothingness, there was a thought posted by a dear gentleman that caught my attention and low and behold I responded. His question was, (and I quote by the wonderful act of copy and paste) "......is wondering what questions you would ask if you were interviewing ministers who had experienced a forced termination." Now that set the "Ole Preacher Brain," to spinning and in a splittin' second my fingers were bumping the keyboard, and this is what they wrote (again by copy and paste!):
I would ask no questions other than, "How can I help and be of assistance to you and show you my love?" Most questions have a way of coming over as if it were their fault and that is one thing they just don't need at that time. There will be plenty time for processing as the healing process goes on, whether they were to be faulted or not. I will not add to their grief and yes, anger in any fashion. As a former fellow pastor and presbyter I have experienced loving and praying with those who have endured this indignity and can say from all responses just loving them unconditionally is the best medicine! Love and Blessings!! Len
Now thinking about it, I don't know if this brother was speaking of someone who recently, "got voted out," or just asking someone to go back in personal history 10 or 15 years. But whatever, 6 days or 60 years my answer is the same!! There are some things so personally painful, so anguishingly hurtful that I just can't bring myself to think about approaching that person and asking them anything.
As I understand it our Christ-like business is to give unconditional love and acceptance, and to help those who are in need or are suffering.
Over six years ago now I went through divorce and cancer all in the same year separated by only about a month. To be sure it qualified as the most gut-wrenching painful time of my life. One of the major surprises I experienced were those "friends" who didn't call me and those who did. Some of them I hadn't heard from in years, and whoo, all the way to California and past. Their very tone belied them; they were asking one question after the other, and you could sense their anxiousness for a juicy tidbit for the next "Fellowship Meeting." There was feigned interest in my well being of course , but it was easily seen through. After all if they were all that sincere there would have been more calls over the weeks and months, wouldn't there?? Yep, you got it, they were "one call johnnys."
However, now for the Rest of the Story: There were a few calls, less than 5, who called and said, "Len, I love you, I'm praying for you, what can I do to help you?"
Those wonderful brothers and sisters sustained me with their love and prayers through the darkest night of my soul! The calls were regular, the prayers were powerful. In one of my darkest nights my phone rang after midnight and a familiar voice said, "Len, I sense that you are really suffering tonight, I just called to pray and ask how I can help." Now that brings me back to another post on here...W. W. J. D.?
The Jesus who is the author and finisher not only of our faith, but of absolute unconditional love, asks us to let Him live through us. I know he would have a huge, warm embrace...I know He would say, "I Love You," and, "How will you let me help you through this distressing time?" Oh, and another thing He would say is, "I am with you all the way!!" Yep, that's what Jesus would do!!! So how can I do less????
"HE'S NOT A GOD OF A THOUSAND QUESTIONS, HE'S THE GOD WITH A MILLION ANSWERS...." It is to Him and Him Alone, I bow!!! I stick with my answer!!!!!!!!
During one of my trips inside for more ice tea I stopped by the computer room and checked email and the old Facebook. In the middle of my laziness and do nothingness, there was a thought posted by a dear gentleman that caught my attention and low and behold I responded. His question was, (and I quote by the wonderful act of copy and paste) "......is wondering what questions you would ask if you were interviewing ministers who had experienced a forced termination." Now that set the "Ole Preacher Brain," to spinning and in a splittin' second my fingers were bumping the keyboard, and this is what they wrote (again by copy and paste!):
I would ask no questions other than, "How can I help and be of assistance to you and show you my love?" Most questions have a way of coming over as if it were their fault and that is one thing they just don't need at that time. There will be plenty time for processing as the healing process goes on, whether they were to be faulted or not. I will not add to their grief and yes, anger in any fashion. As a former fellow pastor and presbyter I have experienced loving and praying with those who have endured this indignity and can say from all responses just loving them unconditionally is the best medicine! Love and Blessings!! Len
Now thinking about it, I don't know if this brother was speaking of someone who recently, "got voted out," or just asking someone to go back in personal history 10 or 15 years. But whatever, 6 days or 60 years my answer is the same!! There are some things so personally painful, so anguishingly hurtful that I just can't bring myself to think about approaching that person and asking them anything.
As I understand it our Christ-like business is to give unconditional love and acceptance, and to help those who are in need or are suffering.
Over six years ago now I went through divorce and cancer all in the same year separated by only about a month. To be sure it qualified as the most gut-wrenching painful time of my life. One of the major surprises I experienced were those "friends" who didn't call me and those who did. Some of them I hadn't heard from in years, and whoo, all the way to California and past. Their very tone belied them; they were asking one question after the other, and you could sense their anxiousness for a juicy tidbit for the next "Fellowship Meeting." There was feigned interest in my well being of course , but it was easily seen through. After all if they were all that sincere there would have been more calls over the weeks and months, wouldn't there?? Yep, you got it, they were "one call johnnys."
However, now for the Rest of the Story: There were a few calls, less than 5, who called and said, "Len, I love you, I'm praying for you, what can I do to help you?"
Those wonderful brothers and sisters sustained me with their love and prayers through the darkest night of my soul! The calls were regular, the prayers were powerful. In one of my darkest nights my phone rang after midnight and a familiar voice said, "Len, I sense that you are really suffering tonight, I just called to pray and ask how I can help." Now that brings me back to another post on here...W. W. J. D.?
The Jesus who is the author and finisher not only of our faith, but of absolute unconditional love, asks us to let Him live through us. I know he would have a huge, warm embrace...I know He would say, "I Love You," and, "How will you let me help you through this distressing time?" Oh, and another thing He would say is, "I am with you all the way!!" Yep, that's what Jesus would do!!! So how can I do less????
"HE'S NOT A GOD OF A THOUSAND QUESTIONS, HE'S THE GOD WITH A MILLION ANSWERS...." It is to Him and Him Alone, I bow!!! I stick with my answer!!!!!!!!
Saturday, March 14, 2009
We Were (Are) Soldiers
Here is yet another journaling from a few years back, December 23, 2004 to be exact. It bears much meaning to me yet......
Last night I finished watching the movie, “We Were Soldiers,” starring Mel Gibson, about the Viet Nam war. Gibson starred as Lt. Col. Hal Moore, of the 7th Calvary (Remember Custer?) who led his troops in the assault of La Drang Valley in 1965. It was a bloody, violent movie that got to the horrors of combat and the terrors that our soldiers faced there. So intense it was, that I found myself having to watch a segment then wait a while before going on to the next scene.
However, as I lay down to sleep afterward, it was not so much the blood, violence, fear, and terror that gripped my mind. It was the scene of the Lt. Col. addressing his troops just before they boarded the planes here in America to go into combat.
They were in formation, at attention, and these were his final words to them: “I can’t promise you that I’ll bring you all home alive. But this I swear, before you and before Almighty God, that when we go into battle, I will be the first to set foot on the field…and I’ll be the last to step off…and I will leave no one behind, dead or alive. We will all come home together, so help me God.”
Those words you would expect from a great military leader, and Lt. Co. Moore fulfilled his promise, constantly facing barrages of enemy gunfire and artillery to protect his troops and drag or carry the wounded, dead, and dying off the field of battle. The scenes are too many and too graphic to explain here, but when the battle was over and his feet stepped back on the helicopter, there was not one soldier left on the field, they had all been recovered. One scene that did imprint my mind was in the darkness only illuminated by distant enemy artillery, Moore set out to find two unaccounted for soldiers and in the darkness he searched until they were found and carried back to the company.
The thoughts that haunted the recesses of my mind were of those, “spiritual,” battles in which I have been engaged through the years…some of them as the leader, and some as the foot soldier. How often did a soldier fall in battle, and I left him lying there? Was it for my fear of my own safety? Was it my thinking that I had done all I could do for him? Was it my attention to other details of the battle? Or was it my just not wanting to be involved further, as he was a, “fallen,” soldier?
I thought of my own battles, and how I was lying wounded and dying, needing a spiritual “medic” to carry me to safety and care for my wounds. To be sure, a few were there. Thank God for them, they are the only reason I’m alive today. Calvin, Jim, Kelly, Mom, Jon, Garry, wouldn’t leave me there to die. I have a battle scar, large and ominous that I see daily, where the doctor cut out a cancer that was destroying my body. The scars that are the worst are those unseen, because they are deep within my soul and spirit! Some of them from those who were supposed to be my Lt. Col., yet they left me to my bleeding!
I no longer harbor the resentment that plagued me so deeply, but have found peace in forgiveness and grace. I’m not much of a preacher, and certainly not qualified to be the Lt. Col. or even a buck private, but now I consider myself a “medic,” and this I promise, I will never turn a deaf ear to the call of the wounded soldier, whether it be in the heat of battle, or in the quiet of the jungle night! I will not hold back and give in to my own fears while another bleeds and dies!!! There will be no more bleeding and dying soldiers left on the field on my watch!!!! So Help Me God!!!!
Last night I finished watching the movie, “We Were Soldiers,” starring Mel Gibson, about the Viet Nam war. Gibson starred as Lt. Col. Hal Moore, of the 7th Calvary (Remember Custer?) who led his troops in the assault of La Drang Valley in 1965. It was a bloody, violent movie that got to the horrors of combat and the terrors that our soldiers faced there. So intense it was, that I found myself having to watch a segment then wait a while before going on to the next scene.
However, as I lay down to sleep afterward, it was not so much the blood, violence, fear, and terror that gripped my mind. It was the scene of the Lt. Col. addressing his troops just before they boarded the planes here in America to go into combat.
They were in formation, at attention, and these were his final words to them: “I can’t promise you that I’ll bring you all home alive. But this I swear, before you and before Almighty God, that when we go into battle, I will be the first to set foot on the field…and I’ll be the last to step off…and I will leave no one behind, dead or alive. We will all come home together, so help me God.”
Those words you would expect from a great military leader, and Lt. Co. Moore fulfilled his promise, constantly facing barrages of enemy gunfire and artillery to protect his troops and drag or carry the wounded, dead, and dying off the field of battle. The scenes are too many and too graphic to explain here, but when the battle was over and his feet stepped back on the helicopter, there was not one soldier left on the field, they had all been recovered. One scene that did imprint my mind was in the darkness only illuminated by distant enemy artillery, Moore set out to find two unaccounted for soldiers and in the darkness he searched until they were found and carried back to the company.
The thoughts that haunted the recesses of my mind were of those, “spiritual,” battles in which I have been engaged through the years…some of them as the leader, and some as the foot soldier. How often did a soldier fall in battle, and I left him lying there? Was it for my fear of my own safety? Was it my thinking that I had done all I could do for him? Was it my attention to other details of the battle? Or was it my just not wanting to be involved further, as he was a, “fallen,” soldier?
I thought of my own battles, and how I was lying wounded and dying, needing a spiritual “medic” to carry me to safety and care for my wounds. To be sure, a few were there. Thank God for them, they are the only reason I’m alive today. Calvin, Jim, Kelly, Mom, Jon, Garry, wouldn’t leave me there to die. I have a battle scar, large and ominous that I see daily, where the doctor cut out a cancer that was destroying my body. The scars that are the worst are those unseen, because they are deep within my soul and spirit! Some of them from those who were supposed to be my Lt. Col., yet they left me to my bleeding!
I no longer harbor the resentment that plagued me so deeply, but have found peace in forgiveness and grace. I’m not much of a preacher, and certainly not qualified to be the Lt. Col. or even a buck private, but now I consider myself a “medic,” and this I promise, I will never turn a deaf ear to the call of the wounded soldier, whether it be in the heat of battle, or in the quiet of the jungle night! I will not hold back and give in to my own fears while another bleeds and dies!!! There will be no more bleeding and dying soldiers left on the field on my watch!!!! So Help Me God!!!!
Thursday, February 19, 2009
W. W. J. D.
Well, it think maybe I'm calmed down now enough to get something off my chest...in the past few days I've received a couple of email forwards informing the world that a national church leader has "resigned his position, effective immediately"... He, "confessed to a one-time incident that involved ethical misconduct and an inappropriate interaction with a woman that did not involve any physical intimacy." I will not mention this dear man's name here or anywhere else to add any indignity to the disgusting report sent out by his own fellowship.
The email article is so filled with spiritual arrogance and pomposity that it stoops below similar things that this same fellowship has decryed in the secular press. In the first place I could have lived a lifetime very comfortably without knowing this juicy bit of gossip (gossip doesn't have to be a lie to be gossip...if it is defaming and slanderous, it is still gossip) on this brother in Christ.
Sanctimoniously it is mentioned that he has had "a sterling record," and that whatever he did with whomever he did it was an aberration. Oh and there is to be a yet undetermined, "period of rehabilitation." Now, at this moment a popular phrase comes to mind..."W. W. J. D." It is on bracelets, necklaces, T-shirts, bumper stickers and what have you. What would Jesus Do? Well, now that is a thought, and the way to answer that is to see what He did.
Once the pharisees brought to Him a woman taken in adultery, "in the very act," thereof. He simply wrote in the sand while they called off the Jerusalem Times Herald, and then said to her simply and quietly, "neither do I condemn thee, go and sin no more." He said to a crippled man who never even confessed to sin, "thy sins be forgiven thee, go and sin no more." He didn't have the press secretary of the Assemblies of Disciples of Christ to send out an email detailing these individuals misconduct or inappropriate action. He didn't call for an undetermined period of rehabilitation, rather he simply said, "You are forgiven, you are not condemned, go and don't do a repeat performance!" (pretty good paraphrase, eh??)
If one of his disciples had fallen to the state mentioned above I have a pretty good idea how He might have handled it. Feeling His nature, methinks He would have called him aside privately and said, "You have confessed, you are forgiven, don't do it anymore, and don't ever mention it to Me again...because the next time you mention it, I won't remember what you are talking about!!!" That is redemption, that is grace, that is the Christ I know in my heart and serve!!!!!!
That's a far cry from what He said to the religious leaders of His day. He used words like, "Snakes, Daddy Snakes, Granddaddy Snakes..." Why? It was because they were continually justifying themselves, while accusing everyone else of wrongdoing. That didn't go over with the loving Savior very well. Perhaps we have a lesson to learn from that.
Tonight I pray for a dear man and his family who are no doubt hurting. They have been exposed to the fellowship they have loved and served for many years in a most unflattering way. Dear God, may he and his loved ones sleep a peaceful sleep as your nail scarred hands reach around them and he hears a loving and compassionate voice in the quite of his soul whisper, "neither do I condemn you, go and sin no more."
What Would Jesus Do? Does anybody care????????
The email article is so filled with spiritual arrogance and pomposity that it stoops below similar things that this same fellowship has decryed in the secular press. In the first place I could have lived a lifetime very comfortably without knowing this juicy bit of gossip (gossip doesn't have to be a lie to be gossip...if it is defaming and slanderous, it is still gossip) on this brother in Christ.
Sanctimoniously it is mentioned that he has had "a sterling record," and that whatever he did with whomever he did it was an aberration. Oh and there is to be a yet undetermined, "period of rehabilitation." Now, at this moment a popular phrase comes to mind..."W. W. J. D." It is on bracelets, necklaces, T-shirts, bumper stickers and what have you. What would Jesus Do? Well, now that is a thought, and the way to answer that is to see what He did.
Once the pharisees brought to Him a woman taken in adultery, "in the very act," thereof. He simply wrote in the sand while they called off the Jerusalem Times Herald, and then said to her simply and quietly, "neither do I condemn thee, go and sin no more." He said to a crippled man who never even confessed to sin, "thy sins be forgiven thee, go and sin no more." He didn't have the press secretary of the Assemblies of Disciples of Christ to send out an email detailing these individuals misconduct or inappropriate action. He didn't call for an undetermined period of rehabilitation, rather he simply said, "You are forgiven, you are not condemned, go and don't do a repeat performance!" (pretty good paraphrase, eh??)
If one of his disciples had fallen to the state mentioned above I have a pretty good idea how He might have handled it. Feeling His nature, methinks He would have called him aside privately and said, "You have confessed, you are forgiven, don't do it anymore, and don't ever mention it to Me again...because the next time you mention it, I won't remember what you are talking about!!!" That is redemption, that is grace, that is the Christ I know in my heart and serve!!!!!!
That's a far cry from what He said to the religious leaders of His day. He used words like, "Snakes, Daddy Snakes, Granddaddy Snakes..." Why? It was because they were continually justifying themselves, while accusing everyone else of wrongdoing. That didn't go over with the loving Savior very well. Perhaps we have a lesson to learn from that.
Tonight I pray for a dear man and his family who are no doubt hurting. They have been exposed to the fellowship they have loved and served for many years in a most unflattering way. Dear God, may he and his loved ones sleep a peaceful sleep as your nail scarred hands reach around them and he hears a loving and compassionate voice in the quite of his soul whisper, "neither do I condemn you, go and sin no more."
What Would Jesus Do? Does anybody care????????
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Tanny-Bogus Can't Have Me
The following is a comment to my son Kelly on his blogsite. In order to understand and appreciate it please go to his blog, kellsbrain.blogspot.com and read his posting before reading this. I've been away for a while due to several things going on in my old life. Alice, I hope to do better in the future! Love to everyone and remember my friend Mike in prayer as he is undergoing chemo.
My Dear Son,
You have reached the headwaters of grace, and have drunk deeply of the fountainhead of mercy!
It feels that you and I have somewhat made this journey of the metamorphosis from fear into the grace of God together! We have talked over coffee, visited on the phone, exchanged emails over the past few years as we have searched and desired to move from fear and legalism into the heart of an un-understandable God. We knew it was there, it was just being able to let go the thundering of fears from the past and allow our souls and spirits to flow with an eternal heartbeat!
My journey began in Bible College, sitting in the classroom of Dr. Thomas Harrison. He was way ahead of his time in understanding the love of God! I can remember his shrill (he always rose to a high tenor when he was excited) voice, "Brethren, never preach on hell like you are glad people are going there...if you can't preach it with a tear in your eye and sob in your throat, leave it alone." Yet, it took many years and many experiences for all he said in those days to culminate in spiritual understanding for me.
I have profusely repented to God of my preachments of judgments and judgmentalism, as well as knowing that they were affecting my own children. I just pray today that you, Michael, and Robin understand my love for all of you; and that my errors were out of zeal and my own fears of the darkness and shadows of the past.
When I was just a mere tot, I can remember being told that if I didn't behave in certain ways that, "Tanny-bogus," was going to get me. Now I didn't know who the heck Tanny-bogus was, but I was sure he breathed fire, had horns and a pitchfork, and was going to turn me into a crispy critter in a second of time! (Someday I may write a book on grace entitled, "Tanny-bogus Can't Get Me.")
Like you, I had my "rapture fear," experiences. When I was about 7 or 8, I went with your Mammaw to the old Brookshire Bro. store in Lufkin. It has long since given way to the ultra-modern supermarket, and Dixon's Furniture now inhabits the old building. Anyway, as she shopped I got separated from her. I ran up and down the aisles screaming for her, as I was sure the rapture had come and I was left behind. After all I had said an "ugly" word the day before while playing with my friends Wayne and Paul, and had forgotten to ask forgiveness. Isn't it amazing how after all those years that moment is still so vivid in my old aging brain??!
Today we still move on in the light that we have discovered, and we still, "...see through a glass darkly..." we remain open to that which only comes by revelation from the received written Word that is given to guide us into the fullness of His Grace! We understand more fully indeed that, "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son..."
So Kel, walk on in light, continue to drink deeply, and enjoy the coffee and the spider! There are no spiders on this cold morning in East Texas, but as I sit on the patio and sip I just enjoy the birds, squirrels, and the cool misty breeze in my face!
Love You Much, Dad
P.S. By the way, animals do go to heaven! After all didn't we learn much of, "unconditional love," from Sadie, Cairo, and the other pets who have loved us through the years??!!!
My Dear Son,
You have reached the headwaters of grace, and have drunk deeply of the fountainhead of mercy!
It feels that you and I have somewhat made this journey of the metamorphosis from fear into the grace of God together! We have talked over coffee, visited on the phone, exchanged emails over the past few years as we have searched and desired to move from fear and legalism into the heart of an un-understandable God. We knew it was there, it was just being able to let go the thundering of fears from the past and allow our souls and spirits to flow with an eternal heartbeat!
My journey began in Bible College, sitting in the classroom of Dr. Thomas Harrison. He was way ahead of his time in understanding the love of God! I can remember his shrill (he always rose to a high tenor when he was excited) voice, "Brethren, never preach on hell like you are glad people are going there...if you can't preach it with a tear in your eye and sob in your throat, leave it alone." Yet, it took many years and many experiences for all he said in those days to culminate in spiritual understanding for me.
I have profusely repented to God of my preachments of judgments and judgmentalism, as well as knowing that they were affecting my own children. I just pray today that you, Michael, and Robin understand my love for all of you; and that my errors were out of zeal and my own fears of the darkness and shadows of the past.
When I was just a mere tot, I can remember being told that if I didn't behave in certain ways that, "Tanny-bogus," was going to get me. Now I didn't know who the heck Tanny-bogus was, but I was sure he breathed fire, had horns and a pitchfork, and was going to turn me into a crispy critter in a second of time! (Someday I may write a book on grace entitled, "Tanny-bogus Can't Get Me.")
Like you, I had my "rapture fear," experiences. When I was about 7 or 8, I went with your Mammaw to the old Brookshire Bro. store in Lufkin. It has long since given way to the ultra-modern supermarket, and Dixon's Furniture now inhabits the old building. Anyway, as she shopped I got separated from her. I ran up and down the aisles screaming for her, as I was sure the rapture had come and I was left behind. After all I had said an "ugly" word the day before while playing with my friends Wayne and Paul, and had forgotten to ask forgiveness. Isn't it amazing how after all those years that moment is still so vivid in my old aging brain??!
Today we still move on in the light that we have discovered, and we still, "...see through a glass darkly..." we remain open to that which only comes by revelation from the received written Word that is given to guide us into the fullness of His Grace! We understand more fully indeed that, "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son..."
So Kel, walk on in light, continue to drink deeply, and enjoy the coffee and the spider! There are no spiders on this cold morning in East Texas, but as I sit on the patio and sip I just enjoy the birds, squirrels, and the cool misty breeze in my face!
Love You Much, Dad
P.S. By the way, animals do go to heaven! After all didn't we learn much of, "unconditional love," from Sadie, Cairo, and the other pets who have loved us through the years??!!!
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