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??!!!
Thursday, December 4, 2008
The One That Got Away!
There is the old adage known far and wide by fishermen about “the one that got away.” As the saying goes the one that got away is always the biggest and the best, because all the other fishermen have is the lone fisherman’s word; and it is well known that all fishermen are liars. Well, at least most fishermen are liars, but then there is Michael and I, and of course we would always be painfully truthful, well most of the time anyway!!
I experienced a rather significant event yesterday that started me pondering on the things that get away from us in life, and why that happens:
As I left my office one of our counselors that I had hired several months back was walking my way. I stopped, gave her a big smile, friendly greeting, and a simple word of appreciation. By that time she had reached my door and we walked down the hallway together toward the exit. She paused and then reflected, “You know Mr. Ward that is what I like about you. You are always friendly, up, and have an encouraging word. You even find time to go from office to office and cubicle to cubicle to greet us and encourage us with appreciation.”
Quietly my mind quickly drifted back to a moment years before when a personal little revelation had come to me from an Old Testament story. It seems in I Kings 20 that King Ahab had been disobedient and the prophet, waiting for him alongside the path, chose a rather unique analogy or personally illustrated parable to show the king his guilt. He asked a friend nearby to hit him, give him a good old, as we say, “jack slap!” The friend refused so he enlisted another who was more willing. Perhaps he gave him a good haymaker and landed the prophet in the dust of the road rather mussing him up. The prophet then pulling his headband over his eyes was spied by the king as he came by. When asked what had happened the prophet explained he was in charge of a prisoner but that, “as thy servant was busy here and there he was gone.” (Verse 40) One translation simply says, “…He got away.” I explained to my counselor how that through this I was shown that we often in being “busy” allow the important things to get away! I just do not want to ever be so “busy” that I allow my staff to go unnoticed, unappreciated and “get away.”
Now if the prophet’s analogy had been true, he had allowed his busyness to interfere with his responsibility of the safe keeping of his prisoner. I personalized this to many things we allow to get away due to our being busy.
Have you ever had your child, or your spouse to ask something of you and you replied thoughtlessly, “I can’t, I’m too busy now.” Oops, say that often enough and at some point they will be gone emotionally, if not physically.
I remember many years ago hearing the great pulpiteer and missionary Harold Davis, tell of a pastor who had gone to his office on Saturday evening to finalize his message for the next day…he needed to cross the “T’s” and dot the “I’s” making sure all was in place. There came a frantic knock on the door, and a hysterical voice called for his help. A lad had fallen in the park pond just down the way and couldn’t get out. The pastor, so intent on his “busyness,” told them to get someone else. The next knock on his door was a policeman telling him his own son had just drowned in the pond. You see, in his zeal for his “busyness” he had lost his own son! He could say with the prophet, “As I was busy here and there, my son got away.”
May we never equate busyness with the real productivity of life! I’ve never been regretful for the times I spent with my children growing up! Memories of fishing, hunting, camping, ball games, band concerts, vacations, or just sitting around playing a game or munching popcorn with my kids still bring a warmly nostalgic smile to my face! I never regret now the times I say “no” to others and other “busy” issues of life to spend simple but hugely gratifying time with my sweet wife Nora!
I never regret the quiet times I spend in communing with my Creator and enjoying His presence in the “cool of the day.” I never regret just relaxing on the back patio and being enthralled by the frisky squirrels, birds, occasional deer, and even the old cows that sometimes graze along the fence line. Those times refresh my spirit and soul, and revitalize my mind!
John Bradshaw reminds us that we are created “Human Beings,” not “Human Doings.” May we all be reminded of that again today and just take time to “Be,” for our family, for our God, for ourselves!! Life will be richer, and oh yeah, there’ll be no regrets!!!
I experienced a rather significant event yesterday that started me pondering on the things that get away from us in life, and why that happens:
As I left my office one of our counselors that I had hired several months back was walking my way. I stopped, gave her a big smile, friendly greeting, and a simple word of appreciation. By that time she had reached my door and we walked down the hallway together toward the exit. She paused and then reflected, “You know Mr. Ward that is what I like about you. You are always friendly, up, and have an encouraging word. You even find time to go from office to office and cubicle to cubicle to greet us and encourage us with appreciation.”
Quietly my mind quickly drifted back to a moment years before when a personal little revelation had come to me from an Old Testament story. It seems in I Kings 20 that King Ahab had been disobedient and the prophet, waiting for him alongside the path, chose a rather unique analogy or personally illustrated parable to show the king his guilt. He asked a friend nearby to hit him, give him a good old, as we say, “jack slap!” The friend refused so he enlisted another who was more willing. Perhaps he gave him a good haymaker and landed the prophet in the dust of the road rather mussing him up. The prophet then pulling his headband over his eyes was spied by the king as he came by. When asked what had happened the prophet explained he was in charge of a prisoner but that, “as thy servant was busy here and there he was gone.” (Verse 40) One translation simply says, “…He got away.” I explained to my counselor how that through this I was shown that we often in being “busy” allow the important things to get away! I just do not want to ever be so “busy” that I allow my staff to go unnoticed, unappreciated and “get away.”
Now if the prophet’s analogy had been true, he had allowed his busyness to interfere with his responsibility of the safe keeping of his prisoner. I personalized this to many things we allow to get away due to our being busy.
Have you ever had your child, or your spouse to ask something of you and you replied thoughtlessly, “I can’t, I’m too busy now.” Oops, say that often enough and at some point they will be gone emotionally, if not physically.
I remember many years ago hearing the great pulpiteer and missionary Harold Davis, tell of a pastor who had gone to his office on Saturday evening to finalize his message for the next day…he needed to cross the “T’s” and dot the “I’s” making sure all was in place. There came a frantic knock on the door, and a hysterical voice called for his help. A lad had fallen in the park pond just down the way and couldn’t get out. The pastor, so intent on his “busyness,” told them to get someone else. The next knock on his door was a policeman telling him his own son had just drowned in the pond. You see, in his zeal for his “busyness” he had lost his own son! He could say with the prophet, “As I was busy here and there, my son got away.”
May we never equate busyness with the real productivity of life! I’ve never been regretful for the times I spent with my children growing up! Memories of fishing, hunting, camping, ball games, band concerts, vacations, or just sitting around playing a game or munching popcorn with my kids still bring a warmly nostalgic smile to my face! I never regret now the times I say “no” to others and other “busy” issues of life to spend simple but hugely gratifying time with my sweet wife Nora!
I never regret the quiet times I spend in communing with my Creator and enjoying His presence in the “cool of the day.” I never regret just relaxing on the back patio and being enthralled by the frisky squirrels, birds, occasional deer, and even the old cows that sometimes graze along the fence line. Those times refresh my spirit and soul, and revitalize my mind!
John Bradshaw reminds us that we are created “Human Beings,” not “Human Doings.” May we all be reminded of that again today and just take time to “Be,” for our family, for our God, for ourselves!! Life will be richer, and oh yeah, there’ll be no regrets!!!
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Thots From Ruth
In today's religion page of the Longview News-Journal there was an AP article concerning Ruth Graham, daughter of evangelist Billy Graham. Ms. Graham shared her struggles through the years with various family and personal issues and spoke of the feeling of not being able to share her feelings and needs. She made a statement from which I cannot get away : "Once we're in the church, we pretend all the sinners are on the outside. We want to keep the rules, and when we can't, we become shameful and pretend we have it all together. The world is tired of plastic Christians, I was tired of being a plastic Christian. I told everybody I had it all together, and I was falling apart. And I was scared to death to tell somebody."
What a terribly sad indictment of the very fellowship that it's founder based on love, forgiveness, compassion, and understanding. He believed in these basic principles of relationship so much that He gave His life so that everyone might have forgiveness and share His love, compassion, and understanding!
How many more Ruth Grahams are there that sit on pews each Sunday and "pretend," when inside they are hurting, depressed, disappointed, and disillusioned? They are indeed plastic Christians. The article told of a book written by Ms. Graham entitled, "In Every Pew Sits a Broken Heart." I can't wait to purchase and read it!
More times than I care to remember I have had individuals in my office who were struggling with alcoholism or drug addiction (mostly opiates) who would nervously look around and through tears say, "No one can know I'm here. I'm a Sunday School teacher, Deacon, etc. and if my church ever found out they would never have anything more to do with me." I cannot fathom the callousness of hearts that would treat a fellow, "Brother or Sister" in such a way!
Hurting and broken hearts come from many areas of life. Everything from family hurts, divorce, finances, addiction, depression, loneliness, pornography, and the list goes on. For these Christ died! His love and compassion should enable and empower the church to allow them to share their hurts and frustrations, and accept them in His name!
Another thought crossed my mind as I noted the title of Ms. Graham's book, "not only in every pew sits a broken heart, but often in the pulpit stands a broken heart." Too many times over the past few years ministers have told me how fortunate I was to have an education in another career. Far too many have said, "Len, if there were anything else I could do, I would." They feel barricaded behind the sacred desk, no one to confide in and feeling trapped in spirit and soul. Sunday after Sunday the plastic comes out and the amens and hallelujahs resound, and yet there is still a hollow aching and no one to tell.
There must be healing in both the pew and pulpit! It can only come when the facade of "plastic Christianity," is dropped and we are allowed to feel our feelings and open our hearts to each other for the healing balm of Christ to flow and bring peace and joy in the place of our desperation and personal griefs.
Larry Crabb wrote a book a number of years ago entitled, "The Safest Place on Earth." The church, the living body of Christ, must be the "Safe House," "The City of Refuge;" and open itself unconditionally so that truly, "whosoever will may come!!!!"
Whatever hurt or pain you are now suffering the true body of Christ is open to you. A very small, infinitesimal part of it resides in Kilgore, Tx. and if you ever need someone to talk with and just share in the love and compassion of Christ, feel free to drop me an email or give me a call. I will listen, I will pray, and I will love you unconditionally! The plastic can be broken away and the healing balm applied! There is life, joy, and happiness after the plastic is broken!!!
What a terribly sad indictment of the very fellowship that it's founder based on love, forgiveness, compassion, and understanding. He believed in these basic principles of relationship so much that He gave His life so that everyone might have forgiveness and share His love, compassion, and understanding!
How many more Ruth Grahams are there that sit on pews each Sunday and "pretend," when inside they are hurting, depressed, disappointed, and disillusioned? They are indeed plastic Christians. The article told of a book written by Ms. Graham entitled, "In Every Pew Sits a Broken Heart." I can't wait to purchase and read it!
More times than I care to remember I have had individuals in my office who were struggling with alcoholism or drug addiction (mostly opiates) who would nervously look around and through tears say, "No one can know I'm here. I'm a Sunday School teacher, Deacon, etc. and if my church ever found out they would never have anything more to do with me." I cannot fathom the callousness of hearts that would treat a fellow, "Brother or Sister" in such a way!
Hurting and broken hearts come from many areas of life. Everything from family hurts, divorce, finances, addiction, depression, loneliness, pornography, and the list goes on. For these Christ died! His love and compassion should enable and empower the church to allow them to share their hurts and frustrations, and accept them in His name!
Another thought crossed my mind as I noted the title of Ms. Graham's book, "not only in every pew sits a broken heart, but often in the pulpit stands a broken heart." Too many times over the past few years ministers have told me how fortunate I was to have an education in another career. Far too many have said, "Len, if there were anything else I could do, I would." They feel barricaded behind the sacred desk, no one to confide in and feeling trapped in spirit and soul. Sunday after Sunday the plastic comes out and the amens and hallelujahs resound, and yet there is still a hollow aching and no one to tell.
There must be healing in both the pew and pulpit! It can only come when the facade of "plastic Christianity," is dropped and we are allowed to feel our feelings and open our hearts to each other for the healing balm of Christ to flow and bring peace and joy in the place of our desperation and personal griefs.
Larry Crabb wrote a book a number of years ago entitled, "The Safest Place on Earth." The church, the living body of Christ, must be the "Safe House," "The City of Refuge;" and open itself unconditionally so that truly, "whosoever will may come!!!!"
Whatever hurt or pain you are now suffering the true body of Christ is open to you. A very small, infinitesimal part of it resides in Kilgore, Tx. and if you ever need someone to talk with and just share in the love and compassion of Christ, feel free to drop me an email or give me a call. I will listen, I will pray, and I will love you unconditionally! The plastic can be broken away and the healing balm applied! There is life, joy, and happiness after the plastic is broken!!!
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Now I Know!!!!!!!!!!
A huge question nowadays is, “What is wrong with our government?” Until yesterday I wasn’t quite sure. I had listened to what Obama said and to what McCain has said and their dire prognoses of doom if the other were elected, but I still wasn’t sure.
But now I know!!!! Back in April I had filed the automatic extension for filing our taxes as some of our medical payments in the past year were unavailable. Last weekend I pulled out all the records and filled out our tax return...Whew, we only owed them $99 more!! That was a relief. However in the midst of all the paperwork, figuring on the calculator, etc. it dawned on me, “Hey, we moved last year and we can write off moving expenses.” Rush to the cancelled checks and receipts again, and ahh, there it is...records of $1,545 to the movers!!! Now I see it says that in order to claim this deduction I must file a Form 3903. No problemo!! A quick trip to the internet will fix that. Sure enough right there at irs.gov is the form. I hit the print icon expecting this single page to spit out from the printer. Was I ever wrong!!! Before the printer was finished it had submitted to me 19 pages of instructions for filling out my name, social security number, and a whopping total of 8 lines of simple numbers!!!!!!
Apparently our government either thinks we are all morons, or they have too many people on payroll up there that need something to do!!!!! I don’t need 19 pages of instructions to fill in 8 lines on one page, thank you!!
So what is wrong with our government?? At this point I would say it is both: They think we are all morons, and there are way too many people on payroll in Washington!!!!!
Now I take a bow to your applause, and step down off my soapbox!!!!!
But now I know!!!! Back in April I had filed the automatic extension for filing our taxes as some of our medical payments in the past year were unavailable. Last weekend I pulled out all the records and filled out our tax return...Whew, we only owed them $99 more!! That was a relief. However in the midst of all the paperwork, figuring on the calculator, etc. it dawned on me, “Hey, we moved last year and we can write off moving expenses.” Rush to the cancelled checks and receipts again, and ahh, there it is...records of $1,545 to the movers!!! Now I see it says that in order to claim this deduction I must file a Form 3903. No problemo!! A quick trip to the internet will fix that. Sure enough right there at irs.gov is the form. I hit the print icon expecting this single page to spit out from the printer. Was I ever wrong!!! Before the printer was finished it had submitted to me 19 pages of instructions for filling out my name, social security number, and a whopping total of 8 lines of simple numbers!!!!!!
Apparently our government either thinks we are all morons, or they have too many people on payroll up there that need something to do!!!!! I don’t need 19 pages of instructions to fill in 8 lines on one page, thank you!!
So what is wrong with our government?? At this point I would say it is both: They think we are all morons, and there are way too many people on payroll in Washington!!!!!
Now I take a bow to your applause, and step down off my soapbox!!!!!
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
To Retrieve or To Retreat
The following Journaling was originally written on January 27, 2007. For some reason I felt like pulling it out of the archieves, dusting it off, and posting it today.
A couple of evenings ago my stepson Chris, who is an avid outdoorsman, shared a story with me that has given me some great “food for thought.”
Chris shared that a friend of his raises and trains Labrador Retrievers. Of course the name, Retriever, tells what these beautiful animals are bred, born, and trained to do: Retrieve. They make the duck hunter’s life easy. The hunter sits in the blind, shoots the ducks, and the retriever goes out and brings them back to the hunter. On one occasion the friend had a young lab who he had trained in the artificial setting, then decided it was time to take him to the blind for the real thing. He also took an older mature dog with him to show the “young sprite” the ropes of retrieving. After the first shoot, the mature dog was released to “retrieve,” which he did in fine fashion. Then after the next shoot the young dog was released for the retrieve. He also did so in the well-bred, trained manner of the older dog.
Then the hunter noticed that the younger dog was sitting in the blind chewing on one of the ducks. He corrected him a couple of times, and when the pup continued chewing on what was to be the duck hunter’s supper, he popped the dog across the nose with the barrel of his shotgun. That did the trick and the duck was safe for the stewpot!
Some time later another duck flew over, the well-placed shot pattern brought him down, and again the young Lab was released. He swam to the duck, smelled of him, and then swam away. He refused to retrieve! Why would such a well-bred animal that had just a few moments earlier shown such positive response suddenly refuse to do the simple thing that was so natural to him? The hunter knew the answer. The last time that he had a duck in his mouth, he felt the hurt and sting of a gun barrel across his nose! One pop of the barrel and that was all of that kind of pain he wanted. In fact he feared the dog would never hunt again. However, with patience, continued training, and reinforcement he did indeed retrieve again. I’m sure the hunter never used the barrel of the shotgun again on the dog’s nose!
How often have I seen individuals that no longer would do that which had once come so easily for them, which was so naturally innate, and that which spoke to destiny of life? “I don’t attend church anymore…too many hypocrites, someone there hurt me, the pastor or board treated me wrong.” The list goes on. Isn’t it amazing how one, or maybe two or three hurts can drive us from that which our Creator intended? For sure it is normal for us to recoil from inflicted pain, and to not want to expose our selves to it again. It’s much easier to just swim away, as the dog did, rather than chance the pop of the barrel, not against our nose but against our esteem, ego, spirit, and feelings; our very soul! No one chooses pain! It is simpler to just get out of the hunt.
It is all too common in religious circles for the more “mature” Christians and leaders to use the gun barrel tactic against others with whom they disagree. The heart and soul of the person is hurt and wounded. No wonder so many today just finally and in frustration “swim away,” and search for meaning of life elsewhere. “If that is what it’s about, I want nothing to do with it. If that is the way God’s people act, they are hypocrites and I won’t be a part of that.”
It is an all too common fact that without a constant emphasis on our own frailty and humanity, we can become intolerant, judgmental, and harshly critical and corrective in our relationships with others. I remember hearing Pastor Michael Johnson of Springfield, Illinois tell of hearing General Superintendent Wesley Steelberg share his own shortcomings in this area shortly before his death. He related that the only thing in his life that he feared to face God with was the harsh and judgmental way that he had treated other ministers who were either taken in sin or otherwise had made mistakes in their ministries. Many, he said, were no longer in the ministry and were lost to the Kingdom. This loss to the church and the Kingdom haunted him as he was facing his own mortality. He realized he had popped the gun barrel across too many noses!
Perhaps, you as I, have felt the sting of the barrel once too often and have said, “That’s it, no more, never again.” Where do we go from here?
Is the answer in “retreating,” rather than “retrieving”? In searching for my answer I am reminded of three verses that I memorized from the book of Romans as a youth. Since I committed them to memory in the King James, that’s the way I’ll share them: (really messes up the mind of my spell check)
“Therefore thou art inexcusable, o man, whosoever thou art that judgest: for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou that judgest doest the same things.”—Romans 2:1
“Who art thou that judgest another man’s servant? To his own master he standeth or falleth. Yea, he shall be held up: for God is able to make him stand.”---Romans 14: 4
And finally, “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit." ---Romans 8:1
From these words I learn some spiritual and life lessons. First of all I realize that ultimately no other person has the prerogative to pass judgment on me. Yes, there are lines of accountability, and as I have often remarked no one can truly be in authority, unless they have learned to be under authority. However authority does not automatically assume criticism, judgment, or condemnation. It carries with it the responsibility of understanding and support.
Secondly I see that no man is my master. “To his own master he standeth or falleth…” which is followed by, “God is able to make him stand,” which is more than a suggestion that God is our Master!!! It is to our Master that we answer and by Him we will be judged.
And finally if I am in Christ Jesus, and walk after the Spirit, I am under no condemnation! These realities free me from the bondage of man to the freedom of God!!!
I don’t know what you’ve experienced, my friend, or if it any of this has application to your life. But for me, I know that in the midst of my mistakes and
failures, God is not going to pop my nose with a gun barrel but He, “…is able to make ME stand!”
As for me, I’m back in the hunt, swimming the water, and ready to follow my Master’s command!! COME ON IN, THE WATER’S FINE!!!!
“To the praise of the glory of His grace, wherein He hath made us accepted in the beloved.”---Ephesians 1:6 WE ARE ACCEPTED IN THE BELOVED!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A couple of evenings ago my stepson Chris, who is an avid outdoorsman, shared a story with me that has given me some great “food for thought.”
Chris shared that a friend of his raises and trains Labrador Retrievers. Of course the name, Retriever, tells what these beautiful animals are bred, born, and trained to do: Retrieve. They make the duck hunter’s life easy. The hunter sits in the blind, shoots the ducks, and the retriever goes out and brings them back to the hunter. On one occasion the friend had a young lab who he had trained in the artificial setting, then decided it was time to take him to the blind for the real thing. He also took an older mature dog with him to show the “young sprite” the ropes of retrieving. After the first shoot, the mature dog was released to “retrieve,” which he did in fine fashion. Then after the next shoot the young dog was released for the retrieve. He also did so in the well-bred, trained manner of the older dog.
Then the hunter noticed that the younger dog was sitting in the blind chewing on one of the ducks. He corrected him a couple of times, and when the pup continued chewing on what was to be the duck hunter’s supper, he popped the dog across the nose with the barrel of his shotgun. That did the trick and the duck was safe for the stewpot!
Some time later another duck flew over, the well-placed shot pattern brought him down, and again the young Lab was released. He swam to the duck, smelled of him, and then swam away. He refused to retrieve! Why would such a well-bred animal that had just a few moments earlier shown such positive response suddenly refuse to do the simple thing that was so natural to him? The hunter knew the answer. The last time that he had a duck in his mouth, he felt the hurt and sting of a gun barrel across his nose! One pop of the barrel and that was all of that kind of pain he wanted. In fact he feared the dog would never hunt again. However, with patience, continued training, and reinforcement he did indeed retrieve again. I’m sure the hunter never used the barrel of the shotgun again on the dog’s nose!
How often have I seen individuals that no longer would do that which had once come so easily for them, which was so naturally innate, and that which spoke to destiny of life? “I don’t attend church anymore…too many hypocrites, someone there hurt me, the pastor or board treated me wrong.” The list goes on. Isn’t it amazing how one, or maybe two or three hurts can drive us from that which our Creator intended? For sure it is normal for us to recoil from inflicted pain, and to not want to expose our selves to it again. It’s much easier to just swim away, as the dog did, rather than chance the pop of the barrel, not against our nose but against our esteem, ego, spirit, and feelings; our very soul! No one chooses pain! It is simpler to just get out of the hunt.
It is all too common in religious circles for the more “mature” Christians and leaders to use the gun barrel tactic against others with whom they disagree. The heart and soul of the person is hurt and wounded. No wonder so many today just finally and in frustration “swim away,” and search for meaning of life elsewhere. “If that is what it’s about, I want nothing to do with it. If that is the way God’s people act, they are hypocrites and I won’t be a part of that.”
It is an all too common fact that without a constant emphasis on our own frailty and humanity, we can become intolerant, judgmental, and harshly critical and corrective in our relationships with others. I remember hearing Pastor Michael Johnson of Springfield, Illinois tell of hearing General Superintendent Wesley Steelberg share his own shortcomings in this area shortly before his death. He related that the only thing in his life that he feared to face God with was the harsh and judgmental way that he had treated other ministers who were either taken in sin or otherwise had made mistakes in their ministries. Many, he said, were no longer in the ministry and were lost to the Kingdom. This loss to the church and the Kingdom haunted him as he was facing his own mortality. He realized he had popped the gun barrel across too many noses!
Perhaps, you as I, have felt the sting of the barrel once too often and have said, “That’s it, no more, never again.” Where do we go from here?
Is the answer in “retreating,” rather than “retrieving”? In searching for my answer I am reminded of three verses that I memorized from the book of Romans as a youth. Since I committed them to memory in the King James, that’s the way I’ll share them: (really messes up the mind of my spell check)
“Therefore thou art inexcusable, o man, whosoever thou art that judgest: for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou that judgest doest the same things.”—Romans 2:1
“Who art thou that judgest another man’s servant? To his own master he standeth or falleth. Yea, he shall be held up: for God is able to make him stand.”---Romans 14: 4
And finally, “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit." ---Romans 8:1
From these words I learn some spiritual and life lessons. First of all I realize that ultimately no other person has the prerogative to pass judgment on me. Yes, there are lines of accountability, and as I have often remarked no one can truly be in authority, unless they have learned to be under authority. However authority does not automatically assume criticism, judgment, or condemnation. It carries with it the responsibility of understanding and support.
Secondly I see that no man is my master. “To his own master he standeth or falleth…” which is followed by, “God is able to make him stand,” which is more than a suggestion that God is our Master!!! It is to our Master that we answer and by Him we will be judged.
And finally if I am in Christ Jesus, and walk after the Spirit, I am under no condemnation! These realities free me from the bondage of man to the freedom of God!!!
I don’t know what you’ve experienced, my friend, or if it any of this has application to your life. But for me, I know that in the midst of my mistakes and
failures, God is not going to pop my nose with a gun barrel but He, “…is able to make ME stand!”
As for me, I’m back in the hunt, swimming the water, and ready to follow my Master’s command!! COME ON IN, THE WATER’S FINE!!!!
“To the praise of the glory of His grace, wherein He hath made us accepted in the beloved.”---Ephesians 1:6 WE ARE ACCEPTED IN THE BELOVED!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Plagiarism Smagiarism
Recently Christianity Today reported that a minister had been disciplined and requested to leave his church because he had been preaching sermons that had been written by someone else. Poor soul!! He had the audacity to use someone else’s thoughts! I suppose no one else has ever done such a dastardly deed. In 63 years of attending church, I just wonder how many sermons I have heard that were originally preached by someone other than the current speaker?? Oops, and I wonder how many I have preached?
Plagiarism is an age old dilemma. It seems I remember an often quote wise King as saying, “The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.” (Ecc. 1:9) We are in a religious stupor today which seems to require the pulpitier to have stimulating, contemporary, “catchy” titles and contents, the which have never before been heard. Believe me; I’ve heard a few doozies! More than that, I’ve preached a few of those myself, and now look back “in awe of myself” and wonder where in the world I came up with that!!!
Probably more than 30 years ago now, my father shared with me a message he had preached the Sunday before. He was excitedly sharing with me his “new” message. You could hear the adrenalin rush in his voice as he begins telling me of this “brand new, never heard before” sermon that he had developed. I quietly reached over to my library and pulled out a book of messages preached over a hundred years ago by one of the great preachers of that day. I opened it and handed it to him, and there was his message, point by point, scripture by scripture, and thought by thought. He laughed, used his favorite bywords, “Oh good night,” and said, “Well, at least it was new to me.” I hated to burst his bubble, but truly there is nothing new under the sun.
The Word of God is ageless, timeless, and complete. It’s the same pie and there are only so many ways to cut a pie! Yes, perhaps the pastor could have or should have prefaced his remarks with, “as so and so said in his sermon, or, “I was reading so and so’s message on this subject and he said…” That possibly would have passed protocol. He didn’t, and I haven’t always either, and probably neither have 99% of all other preachers. Sometimes I wonder what really might be accomplished if no one cared who got the credit. Just because someone uses something that someone else has used, doesn’t necessarily mean he is dishonest, maybe he’s just honest enough to believe someone else has a better word or way of saying it than he.
As one radio personality in our area says, “You know what just burns me up??” I’m grateful for most of the contemporary music that we hear today, some of it though is of the stomach turning variety. I hear songwriters and musicians who have been made wealthy by their “ministries” say all teary eyed, “God gave me this song.” Okay God gave it; He should have the copyright, not them! However, if you use their song without their permission and paying them a fee, they will sue you for infringement. Now that’s just downright holy!! When I was growing up there were still hymnals in the racks at church that are now reserved for other things such as gum wrappers. I remember as a kid reading through them, I guess it was when the preacher was using someone else’s material to preach, and seeing the copyright notices. I recall one that stood out to me, as in the place of the copyright notice, it simply said, “Not copyrighted, and may this song never be. It is to the glory of God.” Now that writer has a reward in heaven. Perhaps others have their rewards now, in their bank account.
Through the years I have depended on the inspiration of the Almighty, and still do. However, I just wonder what I would have done without Pulpit Commentary, William Barclay, Vance Havner, Clovis Chappell, and the long list I have “plagiarized”. I thank God for them; they are my heroes and got me through many a Sunday morning!!
Incidentally, in the outside event anyone wants to quote anything here, it is not copyrighted and please don’t give me credit!!
As they say, “Use all of my ingredients you wish, just make your own chili!”
Plagiarism is an age old dilemma. It seems I remember an often quote wise King as saying, “The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.” (Ecc. 1:9) We are in a religious stupor today which seems to require the pulpitier to have stimulating, contemporary, “catchy” titles and contents, the which have never before been heard. Believe me; I’ve heard a few doozies! More than that, I’ve preached a few of those myself, and now look back “in awe of myself” and wonder where in the world I came up with that!!!
Probably more than 30 years ago now, my father shared with me a message he had preached the Sunday before. He was excitedly sharing with me his “new” message. You could hear the adrenalin rush in his voice as he begins telling me of this “brand new, never heard before” sermon that he had developed. I quietly reached over to my library and pulled out a book of messages preached over a hundred years ago by one of the great preachers of that day. I opened it and handed it to him, and there was his message, point by point, scripture by scripture, and thought by thought. He laughed, used his favorite bywords, “Oh good night,” and said, “Well, at least it was new to me.” I hated to burst his bubble, but truly there is nothing new under the sun.
The Word of God is ageless, timeless, and complete. It’s the same pie and there are only so many ways to cut a pie! Yes, perhaps the pastor could have or should have prefaced his remarks with, “as so and so said in his sermon, or, “I was reading so and so’s message on this subject and he said…” That possibly would have passed protocol. He didn’t, and I haven’t always either, and probably neither have 99% of all other preachers. Sometimes I wonder what really might be accomplished if no one cared who got the credit. Just because someone uses something that someone else has used, doesn’t necessarily mean he is dishonest, maybe he’s just honest enough to believe someone else has a better word or way of saying it than he.
As one radio personality in our area says, “You know what just burns me up??” I’m grateful for most of the contemporary music that we hear today, some of it though is of the stomach turning variety. I hear songwriters and musicians who have been made wealthy by their “ministries” say all teary eyed, “God gave me this song.” Okay God gave it; He should have the copyright, not them! However, if you use their song without their permission and paying them a fee, they will sue you for infringement. Now that’s just downright holy!! When I was growing up there were still hymnals in the racks at church that are now reserved for other things such as gum wrappers. I remember as a kid reading through them, I guess it was when the preacher was using someone else’s material to preach, and seeing the copyright notices. I recall one that stood out to me, as in the place of the copyright notice, it simply said, “Not copyrighted, and may this song never be. It is to the glory of God.” Now that writer has a reward in heaven. Perhaps others have their rewards now, in their bank account.
Through the years I have depended on the inspiration of the Almighty, and still do. However, I just wonder what I would have done without Pulpit Commentary, William Barclay, Vance Havner, Clovis Chappell, and the long list I have “plagiarized”. I thank God for them; they are my heroes and got me through many a Sunday morning!!
Incidentally, in the outside event anyone wants to quote anything here, it is not copyrighted and please don’t give me credit!!
As they say, “Use all of my ingredients you wish, just make your own chili!”
Friday, September 26, 2008
There's Always a Light in the House
Today I am intrigued with an Old Testament story with which most are familar. Jacob and his family had been relocated to Egypt due a great famine. As the story goes Jacob died, Joseph died, Pharoah died, and we are told that there arose another Pharoah. This Pharoah saw the Israelites as a way to cheap, no slave, labor. You know the story, over time there was extreme hard times for these people and they cried out to their God for deliverance...and along came Moses, after his visit with the burning bush.
Moses and his brother Aaron visited Pharoah, and this resulted in a series of plagues on the land. There were 10 of these plagues in all, intended to get Pharoah's attention, and cause him to release the children of Israel. It is the ninth plague that catches my attention today. It was the plague of darkness. For 3 days darkness enveloped the land of Egypt, it was so dark that it was a darkness that could "be felt." Can you imagine it being so dark that striking a match, flipping the light switch, or nothing else could penetrate it?? The Egyptians lived in this incredible darkness...yet there is a note in the story that I can't overlook. Exodus 11:23 says, "No one could see anyone else or leave his place for three days. YET ALL THE ISRAELITES HAD LIGHT IN THE PLACES WHERE THEY LIVED." Incredible, but while all their known world was shrouded in complete, devastating darkness, they had light in their homes!!!
There is darkness about us today, not literal of course, but darkness just the same. There is a darkness of war, depression (how many commericals do you see daily for anti-depressant medications?), distrust, disease, malady, and evil in the streets. In many ways it appears to be a darkness that prevades all areas of life and can cause us to wonder if there is any hope. That is the position that these people were in...yet we are told that IN THEIR HOMES, the places where they lived, there was light!!! It was a Divine provision and it sustained them. It does not appear that this light was a lamp, but an absence of the darkness on the outside.
In the midst of darkness, there is is light where I live!!! It is a light of faith, confidence, calmness, and assurance. It is a light of love, compassion, caring, and belief there is nothing that can come our way that can extinguish the beautiful light of God's day!
Is the light on where you live? No matter if you are sick with disease, aching in pain, depressed with family situations, worried over the economy, or whatever; there is a provision! The real light switch is just an humble prayer away!!!! The way you say it is up to you.
Moses and his brother Aaron visited Pharoah, and this resulted in a series of plagues on the land. There were 10 of these plagues in all, intended to get Pharoah's attention, and cause him to release the children of Israel. It is the ninth plague that catches my attention today. It was the plague of darkness. For 3 days darkness enveloped the land of Egypt, it was so dark that it was a darkness that could "be felt." Can you imagine it being so dark that striking a match, flipping the light switch, or nothing else could penetrate it?? The Egyptians lived in this incredible darkness...yet there is a note in the story that I can't overlook. Exodus 11:23 says, "No one could see anyone else or leave his place for three days. YET ALL THE ISRAELITES HAD LIGHT IN THE PLACES WHERE THEY LIVED." Incredible, but while all their known world was shrouded in complete, devastating darkness, they had light in their homes!!!
There is darkness about us today, not literal of course, but darkness just the same. There is a darkness of war, depression (how many commericals do you see daily for anti-depressant medications?), distrust, disease, malady, and evil in the streets. In many ways it appears to be a darkness that prevades all areas of life and can cause us to wonder if there is any hope. That is the position that these people were in...yet we are told that IN THEIR HOMES, the places where they lived, there was light!!! It was a Divine provision and it sustained them. It does not appear that this light was a lamp, but an absence of the darkness on the outside.
In the midst of darkness, there is is light where I live!!! It is a light of faith, confidence, calmness, and assurance. It is a light of love, compassion, caring, and belief there is nothing that can come our way that can extinguish the beautiful light of God's day!
Is the light on where you live? No matter if you are sick with disease, aching in pain, depressed with family situations, worried over the economy, or whatever; there is a provision! The real light switch is just an humble prayer away!!!! The way you say it is up to you.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Hoover Hogs
It's been many years since the term "Hoover Hog," has crossed my mind. Many would not have a clue what I'm speaking about, "Hoover Hog, what the heck is that??" Well, I will tell you about the Hoover Hog, but just let me preface by saying that hearing the President speak last night, listening to all the prognostications of financial gloom, as well as checking my 401K all brought up the old Hoover Hog image.
In 1952 Dwight D. Eisenhower was running for president as the Republican candidate and Adlai Stevenson was running for the Democrats. At the ripe old age of 7 I was introduced to political scare tactics. One day on the school bus one of the kids asked me, "who are you for, for president?" I had no clue but I did know the names of the guys running so I said, "Eisenhower." My response was met with immediate howls and squeals of my classmates. "Don't you know if he's elected we'll be eating Hoover Hogs?" they chided. I didn't dare ask what a Hoover Hog was because I didn't want to sound stupid, but I did ask them who told them that. They said that's what their parents were saying.
I couldn't wait to get home and run to my Dad and ask him what in the world was a Hoover Hog. The first words out of my breathless little mouth as I rushed into the house was, "Daddy, what is a Hoover Hog?" With a big smile and a robust laugh he responded, "Son that's an armadillo." I immediately burst into tears and through sobs cried, "But I don't want to eat armadillo!" "Who said you were going to eat armadillo," he asked, and appeared still not taking my dilemma too seriously. My continued sobs did get his attention though when I told him my schoolmates said if Eisenhower was elected that's what we would be eating. He called me to his side and explained that back in 1929 when he was a boy just older than me there had been a great depression, nobody had any money, and people had to get by the best they could. He told me a man named Herbert Hoover was president and everybody blamed the depression on him and called armadillos Hoover Hogs because they said that was all they had to eat. He then gave me a big hug, told me that things would never be that bad and that he would make sure I didn't ever have to eat a Hoover Hog. There was something about the hug and reassurance that dried my tears, and I was off outside to play.
Today I tell you after more than 56 years since I was introduced to the term, I've never had to eat a Hoover Hog!! Yep, plenty of peanut butter sandwiches, but never a HH! It's not that there have not been trying times in life, but always my family and I have been sustained!
One might think that with the financial/political prognostications as they are we might be eating Hoover Hogs, the new name is "Roadkill," soon. Well, I dunno about that but I take comfort in the old King David who reminisced, "I was young and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken or their children begging bread." I'm not exactly sure what David meant when he said, "the righteous," but I do know that entails having a healthy fear of God, faith, and always trying to do the right thing.
Therefore, I won't do much worrying today, or tomorrow, or any day over eating Hoover Hogs! But Pshaw, who knows they might not taste so bad in some Sweet Baby Ray's Barbecue Sauce!!!!
In 1952 Dwight D. Eisenhower was running for president as the Republican candidate and Adlai Stevenson was running for the Democrats. At the ripe old age of 7 I was introduced to political scare tactics. One day on the school bus one of the kids asked me, "who are you for, for president?" I had no clue but I did know the names of the guys running so I said, "Eisenhower." My response was met with immediate howls and squeals of my classmates. "Don't you know if he's elected we'll be eating Hoover Hogs?" they chided. I didn't dare ask what a Hoover Hog was because I didn't want to sound stupid, but I did ask them who told them that. They said that's what their parents were saying.
I couldn't wait to get home and run to my Dad and ask him what in the world was a Hoover Hog. The first words out of my breathless little mouth as I rushed into the house was, "Daddy, what is a Hoover Hog?" With a big smile and a robust laugh he responded, "Son that's an armadillo." I immediately burst into tears and through sobs cried, "But I don't want to eat armadillo!" "Who said you were going to eat armadillo," he asked, and appeared still not taking my dilemma too seriously. My continued sobs did get his attention though when I told him my schoolmates said if Eisenhower was elected that's what we would be eating. He called me to his side and explained that back in 1929 when he was a boy just older than me there had been a great depression, nobody had any money, and people had to get by the best they could. He told me a man named Herbert Hoover was president and everybody blamed the depression on him and called armadillos Hoover Hogs because they said that was all they had to eat. He then gave me a big hug, told me that things would never be that bad and that he would make sure I didn't ever have to eat a Hoover Hog. There was something about the hug and reassurance that dried my tears, and I was off outside to play.
Today I tell you after more than 56 years since I was introduced to the term, I've never had to eat a Hoover Hog!! Yep, plenty of peanut butter sandwiches, but never a HH! It's not that there have not been trying times in life, but always my family and I have been sustained!
One might think that with the financial/political prognostications as they are we might be eating Hoover Hogs, the new name is "Roadkill," soon. Well, I dunno about that but I take comfort in the old King David who reminisced, "I was young and now I am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken or their children begging bread." I'm not exactly sure what David meant when he said, "the righteous," but I do know that entails having a healthy fear of God, faith, and always trying to do the right thing.
Therefore, I won't do much worrying today, or tomorrow, or any day over eating Hoover Hogs! But Pshaw, who knows they might not taste so bad in some Sweet Baby Ray's Barbecue Sauce!!!!
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
The Simple Life
As of today I have lived 63 years, 7 months, and 10 days. Those are the days of my life, although not ALL the days of my life. Well, at least that's my plan! None of those days can be recalled or relived. One can only reminisce the past, and relish the pleasant memories not allowing the unpleasant memories cloud the present. The future, well that's just what it is: uncertain, unknown, yet at least loosely planned for.
As I write I hear the news channel in the living room speaking of economic despair as the stock market plummets again. They speak of the venomous words of world leaders, and tell of man's injustice to man. The funeral of a young American/Pakistani soldier killed in action is flashed on the screen. He came to America at the age of 8, and enlisted in the military to serve the country that had become his own. He served loyally, yet his father spoke of the paranoid questioning that he endured because his name was Arabic. Just yesterday a teen was arrested here in our home town high school for carrying a loaded hand gun on the campus. Despair would come easily if one is not rooted in something "far from the madding crowd." I call it the simple life.
Life has become complicated, frustrating, and to a great degree fatalistic. I remember my Dad, who lived through the great depression, speaking of those days as the son of a black land farmer. Life was simple. Grandfather had cows, pigs, and chickens which provided the family table with meat. Grandmother grew an acre garden for not only fresh veggies, but to can and jar for the winter. Dad walked to the little wooden country school for his education. I still here him say, "People were jumping out of skyscrapers because they had lost everything. No one was jumping off barns where we lived in the country, because we hadn't lost anything!"
I suppose it is true that we do not miss what we have never had. If we see life as a series of accomplishments, a list of gains and accolades, and money out the kazoo, there will always be anxiety and fear. Why? Because without those things we lose the meaning of life as we know and understand it.
However, if we practice contentment in whatever state we are in, learn that the really good things in life can't be purchased or earned, and express gratitude daily, then we approach the simple life!
My son Michael, and I traveled to Beavers Bend, OK. last weekend to get away and try our hand at a little trout fishing. (By the way, the trout weren't too impressed with our spinners and rooster tail lures.) Along the way we both pondered life and shared our thoughts. Michael spoke of readings that he had been perusing of an ancient philospher. He spoke of man striving and trying to make good and prosperous things happen for himself. Yet the philosopher saw life as a moving stream or river and declared that one should stand in the stream as it moved past and allow the things of life to come to him. Whew, standing still doesn't come so natural to us, does it? Yet, most of the good and blessed things of life come to us at that moment, still quietly in the stream as we allow ourselves the simple life. It reminds me of the great leader who declared thousands of years ago to a panicky people, "Stand still and see the salvation of the Lord." A great proverb simply says, "In quietness and confidence is our strength."
I looked across the stream and there was Michael, fishing rod high and waist deep in the rapids, with a huge grin on his face! He was in the stream waiting for that which was to come, yet totally content in the moment! Ah yes, the simple life!
As I write I hear the news channel in the living room speaking of economic despair as the stock market plummets again. They speak of the venomous words of world leaders, and tell of man's injustice to man. The funeral of a young American/Pakistani soldier killed in action is flashed on the screen. He came to America at the age of 8, and enlisted in the military to serve the country that had become his own. He served loyally, yet his father spoke of the paranoid questioning that he endured because his name was Arabic. Just yesterday a teen was arrested here in our home town high school for carrying a loaded hand gun on the campus. Despair would come easily if one is not rooted in something "far from the madding crowd." I call it the simple life.
Life has become complicated, frustrating, and to a great degree fatalistic. I remember my Dad, who lived through the great depression, speaking of those days as the son of a black land farmer. Life was simple. Grandfather had cows, pigs, and chickens which provided the family table with meat. Grandmother grew an acre garden for not only fresh veggies, but to can and jar for the winter. Dad walked to the little wooden country school for his education. I still here him say, "People were jumping out of skyscrapers because they had lost everything. No one was jumping off barns where we lived in the country, because we hadn't lost anything!"
I suppose it is true that we do not miss what we have never had. If we see life as a series of accomplishments, a list of gains and accolades, and money out the kazoo, there will always be anxiety and fear. Why? Because without those things we lose the meaning of life as we know and understand it.
However, if we practice contentment in whatever state we are in, learn that the really good things in life can't be purchased or earned, and express gratitude daily, then we approach the simple life!
My son Michael, and I traveled to Beavers Bend, OK. last weekend to get away and try our hand at a little trout fishing. (By the way, the trout weren't too impressed with our spinners and rooster tail lures.) Along the way we both pondered life and shared our thoughts. Michael spoke of readings that he had been perusing of an ancient philospher. He spoke of man striving and trying to make good and prosperous things happen for himself. Yet the philosopher saw life as a moving stream or river and declared that one should stand in the stream as it moved past and allow the things of life to come to him. Whew, standing still doesn't come so natural to us, does it? Yet, most of the good and blessed things of life come to us at that moment, still quietly in the stream as we allow ourselves the simple life. It reminds me of the great leader who declared thousands of years ago to a panicky people, "Stand still and see the salvation of the Lord." A great proverb simply says, "In quietness and confidence is our strength."
I looked across the stream and there was Michael, fishing rod high and waist deep in the rapids, with a huge grin on his face! He was in the stream waiting for that which was to come, yet totally content in the moment! Ah yes, the simple life!
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