"Thinking of MLK's Influence"
As I was working on a recent blog post I was also watched several programs on WOSU about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the preparations for today's celebration of the 50th Anniversary of the March on Washington, D. C. in 1963 and King's "I Have a Dream" speech. I was just getting ready to enter high school. While I remember the event I was only beginning to be exposed to the issues of poverty and race and my faith.
Anyway, sometime during the watching of the WOSU programs I began to sense that this would be a good day to share what effect King had on me. You see, by the time I was a freshman at ONU I was beginning to understand that being a Christian involved more than/something different than making a personal decision to be a follower of Jesus, being born again. On January 11, 1968 Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke on ONU's campus. He had been a classmate of ONU's chaplain at the time, Dr. James Udy, while at Boston. King's visit to campus was controversial for some both in the area and and the campus at the time. King was murdered in Memphis on April 5, 1968 just four months after his visit/speech at ONU. A record was made of his speech. I still have the record. It is one of my most prized possessions.
Well, as the years passed the day King was on ONU's campus changed from controversial to a matter of pride - one of the most notable events to have ever taken place on the ONU campus. It was decided to erect a memorial on the south side of the Taft building, Taft Gymnasium when he spoke there. I had shared over the years how King had impacted/influenced my life and ministry over the years and was asked to speak at the dedication - which I gladly agreed to do. The rest of this post are the words I shared that day. (I'm still looking for some of the other things I wrote over the years and may post those later.)
"I suppose the day Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke at ONU will forever have a place in my mind and heart. For a young freshman who was raised in an insulated, safe, small rural community, religion was something one did on Sunday morning and social issues were things politicians dealt with somewhere else. That perspective on the relationship between religion and the issues of society had already begun to become blurry by January of 1968. Dr. James Udy, then chaplain of ONU, and several older students were certainly instrumental in the early disturbing of my simple way of departmentalizing life.
"I was sitting in the auxiliary gym in Taft here – far enough away from the main platform where King spoke that I don’t remember whether I could actually see him or not. I don’t remember who I sat with that day – what I was doing before or what I did after his speech – I don’t remember if anything else went on before or after he spoke. What I do remember is what he said and the difference it has made on my life.
"While it certainly was one of the epiphanies that revealed to me that it was indeed the ordained ministry God was calling me into, it even more importantly helped shape the way and the why of my ministry and my life.
"There’s no question that what King said that day and how he said it, I really would have to say changed my life – changed my theology – what I believed about God and the role of religion in the world. King’s coming to ONU and his speech awakened in me an awareness that following Christ involved a whole lot more than the personal decision to be more conscientious about my personal relationship with God – it involved a whole lot more than simply being concerned about eternal life – it means also walking the talk – taking the side of the disadvantaged – the disenfranchised – the powerless – the poor.
"King’s speech – while he was talking – even though unable to be seen – it just seemed like we were a part of something that was larger than life – larger than the moment. It was, to be sure, inspirational. But, there was this sense that we were in the presence of someone real – someone who lived the talk – someone who was larger than life. I shall never forget the experience.
"Thank you for the opportunity to share at this special ceremony marking one of the most historic visits to this campus and area on this significant anniversary of his assassination. Amen."
Peace, brothers and sisters!
(Now I think I'll go to the ONU library website and listen to his speech that day again before the D.C. event begins!)
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Sermon: "Dinner Party Etiquette"
"Dinner Party Etiquette"
Luke 14:1, 7-14
This passage is another one of those mealtimes the author of Luke and Acts used to broaden the understanding about what following Jesus Christ means. Some dinner party etiquette gets overhauled big time.
The very first verse has the makings of at least four sermons. The author of Luke notes that Jesus was a guest at a dinner party. So, we could spend some time reflecting on the important things that happen when people gather for dinner – catching up on events in the lives of one another – passing on table manners to our children – hearing the stories that bind us together – the learning of family secrets. (1)
We could also reflect on the significance of Jesus eating the meal in the home of a Pharisee. Or, we could talk about the fact that the author made mention that the meal happened on the Sabbath and how keeping this day for rest and worship was central to how the Jewish people differentiated themselves from the rest of the culture in that day. Or, we could talk about some of the 270 different regulations that governed every detail of what was permitted and not permitted from sunset Friday to sunset Saturday. Or, we could spend time considering the comment that the Pharisees were keeping their eye on Jesus. (2)
While all of them could be interesting, I suspect they would all be attempts to avoid the real intent of the story. You see, the account is really about the attempt on the part of the Pharisees to discredit Jesus. Only Jesus again successfully turned the tables on them. He used the occasion to suggest that following him was going to involve a very different way of dealing with those different from ourselves. The Pharisees wanted to expose Jesus as a dangerous and irreligious lawbreaker, thus discrediting him because everyone knows religious leaders don’t break laws, right?
In the verses between the first verse and the rest of the story read this morning, a man with dropsy just happened by. Yeah, right. Jesus wasn’t dumb – he knew what the score was. He knew what was going on; and so, he began his patented counterattack of asking a question of his detractors: “Uh, boys, tell me, with this suffering one right here among us, what do you think about healing on the Sabbath?”
If those Pharisees did intentionally set up the scenario of the man with dropsy stopping by the dinner, they didn’t think things through very well. One question from Jesus was all it took for them to get real quiet. They knew with his question that he had already turned the table on them with one of his seemingly easy questions. So, Jesus healed the man and sent him on his way.
Then he turned to his host and the other guests and challenged them using their own understanding of the law and the way they practiced it in their own lives. “If one of your animals falls into an open pit, a well, on the Sabbath, don’t you rescue it?” They knew full well they were allowed to rescue their animals on the Sabbath and that he had them. So they again kept quiet. He didn’t even have to follow-up his question with the obvious in-your-face-I-gotcha logical argument: “If it’s alright to help an animal on the Sabbath, surely it can’t be wrong to help a fellow human being.”
Jesus was on a roll and he wasn’t about to relinquish the pulpit now that he had it. As an invited guest he was expected to make a presentation on some topic as a part of the after-dinner entertainment. My guess is that the topic Jesus chose wasn’t exactly one the dinner guests welcomed. Banquet etiquette following a banquet hardly seems appropriate, especially banquet etiquette so contrary from what was accepted as proper in that day.
Now, I’m going to skip over one piece of dinner etiquette the author of Luke has Jesus note in this passage - that we should avoid thinking too highly of our position in life when we choose where to sit at dinner parties. While it’s a significant change in thinking and worthy in and of itself consideration, I want to spend time on the last piece of etiquette Jesus notes because it's pretty challenging stuff.
Talk about radical teaching! “When you have a special event in your life – a luncheon or dinner party – don’t invite your friends or family members who are able to repay you, but invite instead the poor, the lame, the blind – those who can’t repay you.” The point he was trying to make is revealed in the final verse: “Although they can’t repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” Or, “When it’s time to read the results in heaven, it won’t be on the basis of our educational achievements or financial accumulation or our won/lost record or our knowledge of the bible or how often we got spiritual or how deeply spiritual we have been. We are made ready for heaven on the basis of whether we have identified ourselves with – stood with – the down and out in the world.”
Humble service – standing alongside those who have difficulty standing at all – serving those who make us uncomfortable, not just by giving them food or clothes, but by socializing with them, spending time with them, inviting them into our homes for a meal, into our neighborhoods for a picnic or a swim, into our church for a meal or to worship – that is the path to salvation which will be rewarded at the resurrection of the righteous. This is a challenging story from the lips of Jesus – both to us as the church and to us as individuals. If we're going to follow Jesus than he expects us to get out of our comfort zones – to make our prayer something like this: “Lord, send us the people no one else wants.”
Now, Jesus isn’t saying there is anything wrong with us wanting to entertain our family and our friends. It’s natural for us to want to spend time with people we like and who know us well. This idea of Jesus’ is really more than just a thought about how we should make out a guest list for dinner. One writer suggests that Jesus is encouraging us to engage in “disinterested charity.” “We are being asked to give of ourselves, our time, energy, talents and treasure, and not look for any reward. This passage encourages us to make a special place in our hearts for the disenfranchised, for those on the margins of society, for the broken, weak, and poor.” (3)
"Imagine, if you would, one of the angels returning from a hard day’s work, doing whatever angels do in heaven. Imagine that angel coming back to see Jesus, Heaven’s Delight, God’s only beloved Son, working hard to prepare a feast. It’s a spiritual banquet, an offering of every good thing God can give: joy and peace and satisfaction and grace and forgiveness of sins.
“Imagine Jesus looking up at the angel and smiling and saying, ‘Guess who’s coming to dinner!’ And, when the angel shakes his head and says, ‘I don’t know, Lord, who?, Jesus continuing with: ‘I’ve invited sinners. I’ve invited anyone who’s ever broken God’s laws. I’ve invited husbands and wives who have betrayed each other. I’ve invited children who have let their parents down. I’ve invited parents who feel like they have failed their children. I’ve invited people who have subjected their bodies to all kinds of abuse. I’ve invited those who are twisted up inside, crippled by all kinds of painful memories. I’ve invited those whose eyes are blind to other people’s pain. I’ve invited people who say they love me, but whose actions deny me. I’ve invited all the people who, in any way, have ever failed me. I’ve invited anyone who has ever done anything that sent me to the cross.’
“And then that angel asks, ‘Why, Lord? Why? Why would you invite those people? How could they possible deserve you? How could they pay you back?’
“And Jesus responds with, ‘They can’t. But still, I love them. And I understand their hunger. And I hope that once they have been fed, they might just be moved to feed somebody else. You see, there’s a world down there full of people who are poor and crippled and lame and blind and lonely and hungry. In fact, they’re all poor or crippled or lame or blind in some way. It’s a world that needs to be loved with my kind of love. The kind of love that keeps on giving and doesn’t count the cost.’” (4)
Friends, the Kingdom of God includes banquets, dinner parties, luncheons, Pepsi and coffee breaks but they are different than any we think about throwing. When God throws the party – is the host – you never know who is going to be there or who you’re going to sit next to. “The financier will be seated next to the panhandler he always passed on his way to work. The store owner will be next to the person he just fired, and the doctor will be put next to the woman who just sued him for malpractice. Rush Limbaugh may be beside the single mother on welfare. Jerry Falwell may have to strike up a conversation with a gay rights activist.
“And you know what, everyone will get along famously at God’s Banquet Feast. You and I may well find ourselves seated next to, and engaging in conversation with, people we presently can’t stand (or who can’t stand us). But the old anger, hurt, and grudges will be gone, and reconciliation will come. At God’s Table, the barriers that keep people apart – rich/poor, upperclass/lowerclass, black/white, Republican/Democrat, gay/straight, friend/foe, the dividing walls of hostility will come smashing down. The crash will be greater than the fall of the Berlin Wall. God’s Banquet Feast will be the greatest party ever!” (4)
Every once in awhile we’re privileged to get a glimpse of this Kingdom of God banquet. I used to see it once a month on Sunday mornings when a breakfast ministry team at Lima Trinity started to have persons from an obviously different social class than those who normally attended church there drop in for the breakfast. It was awesome to see church members and homeless people and people from public housing just sitting around talking and eating together. I understand it's still happening coupled with some other life-changing ministries.
I get a glimpse of it every year at New Life’s Tailgate party. I hear stories about what it looks like on Sunday mornings at the CRC breakfast. I get a glimpse of it every year at Maple Grove's community Thanksgiving meal.
I'd be curious to hear of other images/glimpses others of you have been a part of or seen.
Peace and God's blessings on you all!
Fred Craddock, Interpretation: Luke (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1990), p. 175.
R. Robert Cueni, “Divine Dinner Party Decorum,” Sermons on the Gospel Readings, Series I, Cycle C (Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Company, 2004), 0-7880-1968-6e.
Alex Gondola, Jr., “Entertaining Tips for Christians,” Come As You Are (Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Company, 2000), 0-7880-1562-1.
Ibid.
Luke 14:1, 7-14
This passage is another one of those mealtimes the author of Luke and Acts used to broaden the understanding about what following Jesus Christ means. Some dinner party etiquette gets overhauled big time.
The very first verse has the makings of at least four sermons. The author of Luke notes that Jesus was a guest at a dinner party. So, we could spend some time reflecting on the important things that happen when people gather for dinner – catching up on events in the lives of one another – passing on table manners to our children – hearing the stories that bind us together – the learning of family secrets. (1)
We could also reflect on the significance of Jesus eating the meal in the home of a Pharisee. Or, we could talk about the fact that the author made mention that the meal happened on the Sabbath and how keeping this day for rest and worship was central to how the Jewish people differentiated themselves from the rest of the culture in that day. Or, we could talk about some of the 270 different regulations that governed every detail of what was permitted and not permitted from sunset Friday to sunset Saturday. Or, we could spend time considering the comment that the Pharisees were keeping their eye on Jesus. (2)
While all of them could be interesting, I suspect they would all be attempts to avoid the real intent of the story. You see, the account is really about the attempt on the part of the Pharisees to discredit Jesus. Only Jesus again successfully turned the tables on them. He used the occasion to suggest that following him was going to involve a very different way of dealing with those different from ourselves. The Pharisees wanted to expose Jesus as a dangerous and irreligious lawbreaker, thus discrediting him because everyone knows religious leaders don’t break laws, right?
In the verses between the first verse and the rest of the story read this morning, a man with dropsy just happened by. Yeah, right. Jesus wasn’t dumb – he knew what the score was. He knew what was going on; and so, he began his patented counterattack of asking a question of his detractors: “Uh, boys, tell me, with this suffering one right here among us, what do you think about healing on the Sabbath?”
If those Pharisees did intentionally set up the scenario of the man with dropsy stopping by the dinner, they didn’t think things through very well. One question from Jesus was all it took for them to get real quiet. They knew with his question that he had already turned the table on them with one of his seemingly easy questions. So, Jesus healed the man and sent him on his way.
Then he turned to his host and the other guests and challenged them using their own understanding of the law and the way they practiced it in their own lives. “If one of your animals falls into an open pit, a well, on the Sabbath, don’t you rescue it?” They knew full well they were allowed to rescue their animals on the Sabbath and that he had them. So they again kept quiet. He didn’t even have to follow-up his question with the obvious in-your-face-I-gotcha logical argument: “If it’s alright to help an animal on the Sabbath, surely it can’t be wrong to help a fellow human being.”
Jesus was on a roll and he wasn’t about to relinquish the pulpit now that he had it. As an invited guest he was expected to make a presentation on some topic as a part of the after-dinner entertainment. My guess is that the topic Jesus chose wasn’t exactly one the dinner guests welcomed. Banquet etiquette following a banquet hardly seems appropriate, especially banquet etiquette so contrary from what was accepted as proper in that day.
Now, I’m going to skip over one piece of dinner etiquette the author of Luke has Jesus note in this passage - that we should avoid thinking too highly of our position in life when we choose where to sit at dinner parties. While it’s a significant change in thinking and worthy in and of itself consideration, I want to spend time on the last piece of etiquette Jesus notes because it's pretty challenging stuff.
Talk about radical teaching! “When you have a special event in your life – a luncheon or dinner party – don’t invite your friends or family members who are able to repay you, but invite instead the poor, the lame, the blind – those who can’t repay you.” The point he was trying to make is revealed in the final verse: “Although they can’t repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” Or, “When it’s time to read the results in heaven, it won’t be on the basis of our educational achievements or financial accumulation or our won/lost record or our knowledge of the bible or how often we got spiritual or how deeply spiritual we have been. We are made ready for heaven on the basis of whether we have identified ourselves with – stood with – the down and out in the world.”
Humble service – standing alongside those who have difficulty standing at all – serving those who make us uncomfortable, not just by giving them food or clothes, but by socializing with them, spending time with them, inviting them into our homes for a meal, into our neighborhoods for a picnic or a swim, into our church for a meal or to worship – that is the path to salvation which will be rewarded at the resurrection of the righteous. This is a challenging story from the lips of Jesus – both to us as the church and to us as individuals. If we're going to follow Jesus than he expects us to get out of our comfort zones – to make our prayer something like this: “Lord, send us the people no one else wants.”
Now, Jesus isn’t saying there is anything wrong with us wanting to entertain our family and our friends. It’s natural for us to want to spend time with people we like and who know us well. This idea of Jesus’ is really more than just a thought about how we should make out a guest list for dinner. One writer suggests that Jesus is encouraging us to engage in “disinterested charity.” “We are being asked to give of ourselves, our time, energy, talents and treasure, and not look for any reward. This passage encourages us to make a special place in our hearts for the disenfranchised, for those on the margins of society, for the broken, weak, and poor.” (3)
"Imagine, if you would, one of the angels returning from a hard day’s work, doing whatever angels do in heaven. Imagine that angel coming back to see Jesus, Heaven’s Delight, God’s only beloved Son, working hard to prepare a feast. It’s a spiritual banquet, an offering of every good thing God can give: joy and peace and satisfaction and grace and forgiveness of sins.
“Imagine Jesus looking up at the angel and smiling and saying, ‘Guess who’s coming to dinner!’ And, when the angel shakes his head and says, ‘I don’t know, Lord, who?, Jesus continuing with: ‘I’ve invited sinners. I’ve invited anyone who’s ever broken God’s laws. I’ve invited husbands and wives who have betrayed each other. I’ve invited children who have let their parents down. I’ve invited parents who feel like they have failed their children. I’ve invited people who have subjected their bodies to all kinds of abuse. I’ve invited those who are twisted up inside, crippled by all kinds of painful memories. I’ve invited those whose eyes are blind to other people’s pain. I’ve invited people who say they love me, but whose actions deny me. I’ve invited all the people who, in any way, have ever failed me. I’ve invited anyone who has ever done anything that sent me to the cross.’
“And then that angel asks, ‘Why, Lord? Why? Why would you invite those people? How could they possible deserve you? How could they pay you back?’
“And Jesus responds with, ‘They can’t. But still, I love them. And I understand their hunger. And I hope that once they have been fed, they might just be moved to feed somebody else. You see, there’s a world down there full of people who are poor and crippled and lame and blind and lonely and hungry. In fact, they’re all poor or crippled or lame or blind in some way. It’s a world that needs to be loved with my kind of love. The kind of love that keeps on giving and doesn’t count the cost.’” (4)
Friends, the Kingdom of God includes banquets, dinner parties, luncheons, Pepsi and coffee breaks but they are different than any we think about throwing. When God throws the party – is the host – you never know who is going to be there or who you’re going to sit next to. “The financier will be seated next to the panhandler he always passed on his way to work. The store owner will be next to the person he just fired, and the doctor will be put next to the woman who just sued him for malpractice. Rush Limbaugh may be beside the single mother on welfare. Jerry Falwell may have to strike up a conversation with a gay rights activist.
“And you know what, everyone will get along famously at God’s Banquet Feast. You and I may well find ourselves seated next to, and engaging in conversation with, people we presently can’t stand (or who can’t stand us). But the old anger, hurt, and grudges will be gone, and reconciliation will come. At God’s Table, the barriers that keep people apart – rich/poor, upperclass/lowerclass, black/white, Republican/Democrat, gay/straight, friend/foe, the dividing walls of hostility will come smashing down. The crash will be greater than the fall of the Berlin Wall. God’s Banquet Feast will be the greatest party ever!” (4)
Every once in awhile we’re privileged to get a glimpse of this Kingdom of God banquet. I used to see it once a month on Sunday mornings when a breakfast ministry team at Lima Trinity started to have persons from an obviously different social class than those who normally attended church there drop in for the breakfast. It was awesome to see church members and homeless people and people from public housing just sitting around talking and eating together. I understand it's still happening coupled with some other life-changing ministries.
I get a glimpse of it every year at New Life’s Tailgate party. I hear stories about what it looks like on Sunday mornings at the CRC breakfast. I get a glimpse of it every year at Maple Grove's community Thanksgiving meal.
I'd be curious to hear of other images/glimpses others of you have been a part of or seen.
Peace and God's blessings on you all!
Fred Craddock, Interpretation: Luke (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1990), p. 175.
R. Robert Cueni, “Divine Dinner Party Decorum,” Sermons on the Gospel Readings, Series I, Cycle C (Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Company, 2004), 0-7880-1968-6e.
Alex Gondola, Jr., “Entertaining Tips for Christians,” Come As You Are (Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Company, 2000), 0-7880-1562-1.
Ibid.
Monday, August 26, 2013
"Our Team is Growing!"
"Our Team is Growing!"
If you've been following the Walk to Defeat ALS results, you might think this post is going to be about the growth of the Bill's Backers Walk Team and the mercurial monetary support we're gleaning for the work of the ALS Association. But you'd be wrong. I'm referencing here the expanding number of folks involved in the care and support of Dorothy and me on this ALS journey. I guess we might call them the Bill's Backers Care Team.
Since the beginning of our journey we've benefitted from the expertise of those who knew more about this journey than we did or cared to know - neurologists at both the Cleveland Clinic and the OSU University ALS and MDA/ALS clinics - physical therapists, pulmonary doctors, respiratory therapists, occupational therapists, speech therapists, dietitians, social workers, nurses, even sales people of helpful equipment - the staff of the ALS Association of Central & Southern Chapter - members of our ALS support group, the Living With ALS, For PALS Only Facebook page, the ALS Forums and related sites. (Notice how big even this part of the team is/has been!)
Then there have been those family members (children, parents, brothers and sisters, in-laws, cousins, nieces and nephews, grandchildren), friends (OG, ONU, United Seminary and those from many other places and settings), former teammates and coaches, church members, members of youth groups I had the privilege to work with, new and former neighbors, hair stylist (not much to work with but she nurtures my vanity by doing it anyway), nail specialist, newspaper reporters, the community of brother and sister clergy and members of church staffs I had the privilege of working with over the years, members of the ONU trustees and ONU community - all of whom have offered us either words of encouragement, stopped to visit, gone on trips with us, assured us of our being in your prayers, called to talk to Dorothy, gone out to eat with me/us, brought food in, stayed in touch with me via Facebook and email, provided me/us tickets to OSU football and basketball games, sat with us in our home, organized and/or sponsored benefits with us (Putnam County ALS Benefit and Golf Outing, Jersey Mikes, City BBQ in particular and still coming up this fall again - September 10 is this year's City BBQ event, September 19 & 20 at Jersey Mikes, and the Putnam event is September 28), helped us move a couple of times, cried and/or laughed with us. (Do you want to estimate how many people are on this team so far?! I will assure you it's over 1000 and I'm not about to try to figure it out exactly!)
(Yes, I know, two paragraphs with only one sentence in each one! Please don't share this with my former english teachers!)
Well, as is the reality of this disease - known for its random and dissimilar journey through each of our ALS bodies and lives - things change, new physical realities strike with little to no warning. And with these new challenges come the addition of new team members - ours being the members of the new Ohio Health ALS clinic and the therapists we've met and spent time with as we've dealt with my falling, aides to help me shower, PALS' families and others who've shared equipment with us, home visits by therapists to provide us other ideas of what we can further or still do, Maple Grove staff and members who offer to help us in ways they and we are still unsure what that might look like, and now the hospice staff with their advice, promptness in responding, a different sort of lifeline support, and their assurance of being with us no matter how long the journey yet to be experienced/enjoyed/lamented/coped with/or endured.
It's quite a team that has rallied and gathered around us, as is the case for so many who have to deal with life-challenging illnesses! We feel quite blessed, supported, loved, and very thankful! Yes, it does take a community to deal with life's challenges! Actually, our experience notes that it takes more than one community - it takes a team of communities and we are so appreciative of the way ours has grown! Sure we wish it didn't have to be, but it sure is nice to know that we have so many teammates to help with the fight/battle/game!!!!!
Peace, Bill's Backers teammates!!!
If you've been following the Walk to Defeat ALS results, you might think this post is going to be about the growth of the Bill's Backers Walk Team and the mercurial monetary support we're gleaning for the work of the ALS Association. But you'd be wrong. I'm referencing here the expanding number of folks involved in the care and support of Dorothy and me on this ALS journey. I guess we might call them the Bill's Backers Care Team.
Since the beginning of our journey we've benefitted from the expertise of those who knew more about this journey than we did or cared to know - neurologists at both the Cleveland Clinic and the OSU University ALS and MDA/ALS clinics - physical therapists, pulmonary doctors, respiratory therapists, occupational therapists, speech therapists, dietitians, social workers, nurses, even sales people of helpful equipment - the staff of the ALS Association of Central & Southern Chapter - members of our ALS support group, the Living With ALS, For PALS Only Facebook page, the ALS Forums and related sites. (Notice how big even this part of the team is/has been!)
Then there have been those family members (children, parents, brothers and sisters, in-laws, cousins, nieces and nephews, grandchildren), friends (OG, ONU, United Seminary and those from many other places and settings), former teammates and coaches, church members, members of youth groups I had the privilege to work with, new and former neighbors, hair stylist (not much to work with but she nurtures my vanity by doing it anyway), nail specialist, newspaper reporters, the community of brother and sister clergy and members of church staffs I had the privilege of working with over the years, members of the ONU trustees and ONU community - all of whom have offered us either words of encouragement, stopped to visit, gone on trips with us, assured us of our being in your prayers, called to talk to Dorothy, gone out to eat with me/us, brought food in, stayed in touch with me via Facebook and email, provided me/us tickets to OSU football and basketball games, sat with us in our home, organized and/or sponsored benefits with us (Putnam County ALS Benefit and Golf Outing, Jersey Mikes, City BBQ in particular and still coming up this fall again - September 10 is this year's City BBQ event, September 19 & 20 at Jersey Mikes, and the Putnam event is September 28), helped us move a couple of times, cried and/or laughed with us. (Do you want to estimate how many people are on this team so far?! I will assure you it's over 1000 and I'm not about to try to figure it out exactly!)
(Yes, I know, two paragraphs with only one sentence in each one! Please don't share this with my former english teachers!)
Well, as is the reality of this disease - known for its random and dissimilar journey through each of our ALS bodies and lives - things change, new physical realities strike with little to no warning. And with these new challenges come the addition of new team members - ours being the members of the new Ohio Health ALS clinic and the therapists we've met and spent time with as we've dealt with my falling, aides to help me shower, PALS' families and others who've shared equipment with us, home visits by therapists to provide us other ideas of what we can further or still do, Maple Grove staff and members who offer to help us in ways they and we are still unsure what that might look like, and now the hospice staff with their advice, promptness in responding, a different sort of lifeline support, and their assurance of being with us no matter how long the journey yet to be experienced/enjoyed/lamented/coped with/or endured.
It's quite a team that has rallied and gathered around us, as is the case for so many who have to deal with life-challenging illnesses! We feel quite blessed, supported, loved, and very thankful! Yes, it does take a community to deal with life's challenges! Actually, our experience notes that it takes more than one community - it takes a team of communities and we are so appreciative of the way ours has grown! Sure we wish it didn't have to be, but it sure is nice to know that we have so many teammates to help with the fight/battle/game!!!!!
Peace, Bill's Backers teammates!!!
Friday, August 23, 2013
Sermon: "God's Cure of an Inferiority Complex"
"GOD’S CURE OF AN INFERIORITY COMPLEX"
JEREMIAH 1:4-10
"Jeremiah."
"Yes, Lord."
"I've decided that you are to be a prophet."
Jeremiah couldn't believe the thoughts that were mulling around inside his head and heart and gut about what God had in mind for him. So, he began to argue within himself with the nudging he sensed from God, described as the voice of God. He presented his case in hopes of quieting the voice within him.
Perhaps one of the best ways I've ever heard this conversation inside Jeremiah between himself and God appeared in a little book written a number of years ago. I've always enjoyed the way the author of Are You Joking, Jeremiah? paraphrased Jeremiah's argument in poetic form.
"God, there must be some mistake.
I can't do work like that.
After all,
I'm only in my teens
sporting jeans
and lounging on the rooftops.
I've had no training
in diplomacy or politics,
in how to speak,
or how to pray in public.
You'll soon be sorry, God,
if you pick someone like me.
Well, God? Well, can't you see?" (1)
I can relate to Jeremiah - he's my kind of guy. I sense in him a kindred spirit. He was a man after my own heart. His struggle with God's call on his life was my struggle. I understand Jeremiah because his reaction to the voice of God inside him was like mine was.
I know some will find this claim a little hard to believe, but I really am basically a shy, quiet, self-conscious, reserved, insecure person. I used to say that's who I was when I was young, but I've come to the place where I understand that's also who I am in my core.
Feelings of inferiority influenced how I lived my life - how I related and responded to others. Some have made the observation that perhaps my feelings of inferiority and inadequacy were early formed or influenced by my athletic interest and vice versa. They have reasoned that because I felt I wasn't as physically gifted as others, except my ability to run fast, that I worked harder - that I played with more intensity to make up for what I felt I lacked.
Others have been so bold as to suggest that I have lived my life and worked in the church and community with the same intensity or drivenness as a result of that same sort of sense in myself that the abilities or gifts for the situations I often felt called upon to be involved were lacking. The thought of being a pastor, a preacher - the thought of standing in front of a group of people week after week and talking - the thought of visiting people in hospitals when I can't even watch a nurse give me a shot or a lab technician draw blood from me - well, those were not situations I ever felt I could handle.
I have to admit to you that throughout my career there were times when I was amazed and uncomfortable at some of the things I was called upon to do simply because I was a pastor. As I've mentioned before, I went to college to be a high school basketball coach and math teacher. I felt those were things I could best do with the gifts/strengths/skills/interests I believed and sensed about myself. And although I have had the opportunity to use those interests, etc. at times in my life, they weren't the ones that fueled the fire that God ultimately stoked in my heart, head, and gut.
In the introduction to Elizabeth O'Connor's book Cry Pain, Cry Hope Gordon Cosby, minister of the Church of the Savior in Washington, D.C. and inspirational leader behind the Servant Leadership movement, wrote: "For a growing person, call must continue forever to be the central concern. At each evolving level of our being we are asking: 'What am I going to do with my life now?' 'How do I find the vocation that is related to my deepest self, and will help that self to unfold?'" (2)
In one of the chapters of O'Connor's book she observes: "(Call) implies a summoning voice which comes from above one, and at the same time sounds deep within one's being." (3) Call is God, "The summoning voice from above" and the "sounds deep within one's being" - Call is God making us aware - Call is God announcing to us and in us - Call is God stoking the fire in our guts through the things that happen around us and the conversations we have with others and the conversations that take place within our hearts and minds, what it is for which God wants us to give our lives. Call involves sensing a passion within one's self that will not be extinguished by the making of excuses about one's lack of gifts or the assuming that the gifts we have are the ones God wants to use. Call is God's making us aware of how God wants to use us.
In that same chapter, Elizabeth O'Connor further observes: "Time was when I thought that the all-important subject was gifts, and that, if only we could identify our gifts, and begin using them, our lives would burst with creativity and the world would be restored. Now I am not so sure. A talent may be so great that it propels a person forever down one path, as is the case with some artists. But even for these extraordinary folk, call determines whether and how they use their gifts. A writer can produce copy, history, propaganda, poetry, contracts and proposals, political speeches, or sermons." (4)
"To be deeply nurturing and to carry one's life into the future, the use of a gift must be related to what one is called to do. An authentic call is hard to discern in today's world, a fact that makes difficult the naming and using of our gifts. (And here's the sentence I most want to share:) Gifts evolve in response to call, and we may not yet have heard a call." (5)
Listen to God's response to Jeremiah's feelings of inferiority and inadequacy, again according to the author of Are You Joking, Jeremiah?:
"Keep quiet son,
don't answer me like that.
Don't say you're only in your teens,
sporting jeans,
for you will go wherever I decide,
and you will say the words which I supply.
Don't be afraid of anyone at all,
for they are just as scared as you
if you could see inside their hardening hearts
and hardening arteries.
And more than that,
don't be afraid to fail,
as most seem to be,
for I am with you even when you do.
Yes, I am, I am." (6)
And so, despite his continuing to object and argue with God about being used in this way, Jeremiah became a prophet and he prophesied with the words God supplied. Jeremiah had good reason to argue - to lament what God had him do and say - because he really suffered for some of those things. His friends and even some of his relatives beat him up for sharing the words God inspired him to say. How could he do it? Why did he continue to do it? How could this guy who would rather switch than fight, this man with the inferiority complex, put up with the public ridicule he endured and continue to speak the unpopular word of God?
The answer? His knowledge, his confidence, that God was with him - that he wasn't in the brawl alone. With God's summons - God's call - comes God's assurance, God's strength, God's encouragement, God's rescuing presence.
Yes, there were times when I sensed God wanted me to do something or say something that I hoped I was hearing wrong. There were times when I tried to argue with God about something I sensed God wanted me to do or say. But, when God plants a call inside us - when God surrounds us with signs of what needs to be done by us - when God sets the fire aflame in us - God accompanies the call. "For I am with you," God says. When God wants to use us, God promises to come alongside us - to be with us - to go with us - to furnish us with that which we need to carry out the call. Call is about passion and trusting God will be with us and that God will equip us for the fulfilling of the call.
The cure of an inferiority complex is ongoing - it's not once and done. It involves believing God is able - that God wants - that God will use us no matter who we are or what gifts we have. It involves believing God is with us as we do or say that which God provides us. And when we forget and give in to our insecurities, God stays with us - offers us forgives us - and gives us other opportunities to overcome our sense of inadequacy and be what God needs us to be.
Being used by God - the call of God - is a tough call at times. It's tough at times to discern. It's tough at times because we don't feel adequate. It's tough at times because it means we may not be understood by those we love. But God promises to be with us and to provide what we need to fulfill the ministry to which we are called. God's promised presence births within us hope for the days and weeks and months and years ahead. Being used by God is a part of what it means to be a Christian.
LET'S PRAY: GRACIOUS GOD, WHO COMMISSIONED JEREMIAH OF OLD TO BE A PROPHET TO THE NATIONS AND WHO SENT YOUR SON, JESUS, TO BE IN MINISTRY TO THE WORLD, ENABLE US BY YOUR SPIRIT TO BE FAITHFUL TO THE MINISTRIES YOU CALL US TO. ENABLE US TO HEAR YOUR WORD IN SCRIPTURE, SENDING US FORTH INTO THE WORLD TO WORK FOR JUSTICE, TO DO ACTS OF MERCY, AND TO LIVE BY THE LAW OF LOVE. FORGIVE US, O LORD, WHEN WE HEAR THE CALL WITHIN US AND FAIL TO RESPOND. FILL US WITH YOUR GRACE AND STRENGTHEN OUR RESOLVE TO DO WHAT YOU WOULD HAVE US DO AND SAY WHAT YOU WOULD HAVE US SAY. IN CHRIST OUR SAVIOR’S NAME WE PRAY. AMEN.
Are You Joking, Jeremiah?
ELIZABETH O’CONNOR, CRY PAIN, CRY HOPE, (Washington, D.C., The Servant Leadership School, 1987), Introduction.
Ibid., p. 80.
Ibid., p. 79.
Ibid., p. 79-80.
Are You Joking, Jeremiah?
JEREMIAH 1:4-10
"Jeremiah."
"Yes, Lord."
"I've decided that you are to be a prophet."
Jeremiah couldn't believe the thoughts that were mulling around inside his head and heart and gut about what God had in mind for him. So, he began to argue within himself with the nudging he sensed from God, described as the voice of God. He presented his case in hopes of quieting the voice within him.
Perhaps one of the best ways I've ever heard this conversation inside Jeremiah between himself and God appeared in a little book written a number of years ago. I've always enjoyed the way the author of Are You Joking, Jeremiah? paraphrased Jeremiah's argument in poetic form.
"God, there must be some mistake.
I can't do work like that.
After all,
I'm only in my teens
sporting jeans
and lounging on the rooftops.
I've had no training
in diplomacy or politics,
in how to speak,
or how to pray in public.
You'll soon be sorry, God,
if you pick someone like me.
Well, God? Well, can't you see?" (1)
I can relate to Jeremiah - he's my kind of guy. I sense in him a kindred spirit. He was a man after my own heart. His struggle with God's call on his life was my struggle. I understand Jeremiah because his reaction to the voice of God inside him was like mine was.
I know some will find this claim a little hard to believe, but I really am basically a shy, quiet, self-conscious, reserved, insecure person. I used to say that's who I was when I was young, but I've come to the place where I understand that's also who I am in my core.
Feelings of inferiority influenced how I lived my life - how I related and responded to others. Some have made the observation that perhaps my feelings of inferiority and inadequacy were early formed or influenced by my athletic interest and vice versa. They have reasoned that because I felt I wasn't as physically gifted as others, except my ability to run fast, that I worked harder - that I played with more intensity to make up for what I felt I lacked.
Others have been so bold as to suggest that I have lived my life and worked in the church and community with the same intensity or drivenness as a result of that same sort of sense in myself that the abilities or gifts for the situations I often felt called upon to be involved were lacking. The thought of being a pastor, a preacher - the thought of standing in front of a group of people week after week and talking - the thought of visiting people in hospitals when I can't even watch a nurse give me a shot or a lab technician draw blood from me - well, those were not situations I ever felt I could handle.
I have to admit to you that throughout my career there were times when I was amazed and uncomfortable at some of the things I was called upon to do simply because I was a pastor. As I've mentioned before, I went to college to be a high school basketball coach and math teacher. I felt those were things I could best do with the gifts/strengths/skills/interests I believed and sensed about myself. And although I have had the opportunity to use those interests, etc. at times in my life, they weren't the ones that fueled the fire that God ultimately stoked in my heart, head, and gut.
In the introduction to Elizabeth O'Connor's book Cry Pain, Cry Hope Gordon Cosby, minister of the Church of the Savior in Washington, D.C. and inspirational leader behind the Servant Leadership movement, wrote: "For a growing person, call must continue forever to be the central concern. At each evolving level of our being we are asking: 'What am I going to do with my life now?' 'How do I find the vocation that is related to my deepest self, and will help that self to unfold?'" (2)
In one of the chapters of O'Connor's book she observes: "(Call) implies a summoning voice which comes from above one, and at the same time sounds deep within one's being." (3) Call is God, "The summoning voice from above" and the "sounds deep within one's being" - Call is God making us aware - Call is God announcing to us and in us - Call is God stoking the fire in our guts through the things that happen around us and the conversations we have with others and the conversations that take place within our hearts and minds, what it is for which God wants us to give our lives. Call involves sensing a passion within one's self that will not be extinguished by the making of excuses about one's lack of gifts or the assuming that the gifts we have are the ones God wants to use. Call is God's making us aware of how God wants to use us.
In that same chapter, Elizabeth O'Connor further observes: "Time was when I thought that the all-important subject was gifts, and that, if only we could identify our gifts, and begin using them, our lives would burst with creativity and the world would be restored. Now I am not so sure. A talent may be so great that it propels a person forever down one path, as is the case with some artists. But even for these extraordinary folk, call determines whether and how they use their gifts. A writer can produce copy, history, propaganda, poetry, contracts and proposals, political speeches, or sermons." (4)
"To be deeply nurturing and to carry one's life into the future, the use of a gift must be related to what one is called to do. An authentic call is hard to discern in today's world, a fact that makes difficult the naming and using of our gifts. (And here's the sentence I most want to share:) Gifts evolve in response to call, and we may not yet have heard a call." (5)
Listen to God's response to Jeremiah's feelings of inferiority and inadequacy, again according to the author of Are You Joking, Jeremiah?:
"Keep quiet son,
don't answer me like that.
Don't say you're only in your teens,
sporting jeans,
for you will go wherever I decide,
and you will say the words which I supply.
Don't be afraid of anyone at all,
for they are just as scared as you
if you could see inside their hardening hearts
and hardening arteries.
And more than that,
don't be afraid to fail,
as most seem to be,
for I am with you even when you do.
Yes, I am, I am." (6)
And so, despite his continuing to object and argue with God about being used in this way, Jeremiah became a prophet and he prophesied with the words God supplied. Jeremiah had good reason to argue - to lament what God had him do and say - because he really suffered for some of those things. His friends and even some of his relatives beat him up for sharing the words God inspired him to say. How could he do it? Why did he continue to do it? How could this guy who would rather switch than fight, this man with the inferiority complex, put up with the public ridicule he endured and continue to speak the unpopular word of God?
The answer? His knowledge, his confidence, that God was with him - that he wasn't in the brawl alone. With God's summons - God's call - comes God's assurance, God's strength, God's encouragement, God's rescuing presence.
Yes, there were times when I sensed God wanted me to do something or say something that I hoped I was hearing wrong. There were times when I tried to argue with God about something I sensed God wanted me to do or say. But, when God plants a call inside us - when God surrounds us with signs of what needs to be done by us - when God sets the fire aflame in us - God accompanies the call. "For I am with you," God says. When God wants to use us, God promises to come alongside us - to be with us - to go with us - to furnish us with that which we need to carry out the call. Call is about passion and trusting God will be with us and that God will equip us for the fulfilling of the call.
The cure of an inferiority complex is ongoing - it's not once and done. It involves believing God is able - that God wants - that God will use us no matter who we are or what gifts we have. It involves believing God is with us as we do or say that which God provides us. And when we forget and give in to our insecurities, God stays with us - offers us forgives us - and gives us other opportunities to overcome our sense of inadequacy and be what God needs us to be.
Being used by God - the call of God - is a tough call at times. It's tough at times to discern. It's tough at times because we don't feel adequate. It's tough at times because it means we may not be understood by those we love. But God promises to be with us and to provide what we need to fulfill the ministry to which we are called. God's promised presence births within us hope for the days and weeks and months and years ahead. Being used by God is a part of what it means to be a Christian.
LET'S PRAY: GRACIOUS GOD, WHO COMMISSIONED JEREMIAH OF OLD TO BE A PROPHET TO THE NATIONS AND WHO SENT YOUR SON, JESUS, TO BE IN MINISTRY TO THE WORLD, ENABLE US BY YOUR SPIRIT TO BE FAITHFUL TO THE MINISTRIES YOU CALL US TO. ENABLE US TO HEAR YOUR WORD IN SCRIPTURE, SENDING US FORTH INTO THE WORLD TO WORK FOR JUSTICE, TO DO ACTS OF MERCY, AND TO LIVE BY THE LAW OF LOVE. FORGIVE US, O LORD, WHEN WE HEAR THE CALL WITHIN US AND FAIL TO RESPOND. FILL US WITH YOUR GRACE AND STRENGTHEN OUR RESOLVE TO DO WHAT YOU WOULD HAVE US DO AND SAY WHAT YOU WOULD HAVE US SAY. IN CHRIST OUR SAVIOR’S NAME WE PRAY. AMEN.
Are You Joking, Jeremiah?
ELIZABETH O’CONNOR, CRY PAIN, CRY HOPE, (Washington, D.C., The Servant Leadership School, 1987), Introduction.
Ibid., p. 80.
Ibid., p. 79.
Ibid., p. 79-80.
Are You Joking, Jeremiah?
Thursday, August 22, 2013
"It's Our Anniversary!"
"It's Our Anniversary!"
We've been married 43 years as of today (August 22, 2013)! Seems like an appropriate time to reflect a bit on those years of marriage and the wonderful woman I was fortunate to meet on the ONU campus 46 years ago.
I really don't remember the first time I noticed Dorothy Machunas on ONU's campus - my suspicion is it was in Ron Evan's math classroom. But we also began to travel in the same circle of friends and it might have been an occasion prior to the first class. What I do know is at some point I discovered she was from Continental, a community about 9 miles from my hometown of Ottawa, Ohio, and she was a math major. She was one of three popular and good looking ladies from that small community who decided ONU was a good place for them to continue their education.
The first "setting the scene side-note" I would share builds on one of those I shared in my recent post about the relationship between Ron Evans and me/us. Mr. Evans was also Dorothy's adviser because she was a math education major. We were in the same first math class and Mr. Evans was the professor. While I don't remember this happening, I've heard her tell the story so many times over the years I feel fairly competent to repeat it. As our first day of class was closing, Mr. Evans announced that he would like Dorothy Machunas to stay after class.
She was shocked, scared, confused, etc. She couldn't imagine what he wanted to see her about. When everyone else had left he asked her if Janet Meyers had been her high school math teacher. She softly answered, "Yes." He then said: "Well, she was my high school math teacher as well, so I know what I can expect out of you!" (Mrs. Meyers had taught at Vaughnsville High School before taking a position in Continental and Ron Evans had graduated from Vaughnsville. Yes, it is a small world!)
The second "setting the scene side-note" I would offer happened as my long-time high school girlfriend was breaking up with me. I think I wrote or called her everyday for several weeks lamenting her decision and trying to convince her we could/should make it work. I believe it was in one of her letters to me that she wisely/desperately/innocently stated: "Surely there are girls at ONU that are attractive and nice that you could date."
I'm not terribly proud of all of my response but it's what I wrote back: "Well, there's one, maybe, but she's from Continental!" (My apologies to all my many wonderful relatives and friends I have today from Continental! Please forgive me! I was trying to be humorous and honest at the same time.) The one girl I had in mind was Dorothy. But we were friends. And she began to date pretty seriously a fellow ONU football teammate of mine. Still, we spent a lot of time together that year because of the classes and friends we shared.
I managed to start dating three girls during the rest of that freshmen year. I'm not really sure how much time overlapped in those relationships but I'm pretty sure that there were months when I was dating more than one at a time. It was pretty easy to pull off since only one was on campus and the other two were in Dayton and Defiance. To be honest, I'm a little embarrassed by this confession because they were all three very nice and I had a wonderful relationship with each one of them.
Well, the summer after our freshmen year a friend of mine, Bill Horstman, and I decided we were going to impart our new attitudes and ideas about race, war, etc. to our hometowns of Ottawa and Glandorf. Our way of doing so was to open a coffee house, The Serenity House (I'll save most of the stories about that for another blog post). Once in awhile that summer Dorothy would bring a friend or two over to the coffee house. On one of those nights it was her roommate and close friend, Nini.
After some time at the coffee house we decided to head to "My Place" for some dancing and further socializing. My Place was a local bar with live bands and a dance floor one block from my home. Late in the evening we decided to go outside to cool off. Then we decided to walk the 1/2 mile or so to the West Main Street bridge over the Blanchard River. I don't remember who all was with us but I know it was Dorothy, Nini, Horse, Big Dave and myself. This was a common route for me when I needed a break from studying when I was in high school. On our way to the bridge lights went on simultaneously in my head and heart, I was in love with Dorothy! Oh, she wasn't aware yet. We were still just friends.
We made plans to go hear my roommate, Carl (Larry) Martin, preach in an area UM church. When I dropped her off, I leaned over and kissed her - she wasn't expecting it. The rest of the summer we saw each other almost every day, even if it meant me taking a detour through Rice when delivering or picking up eggs between our eggplant in Ottawa to the eggplant in Delphos. She worked at a restaurant in Rice run by Charlie Bill. Only people from that area of Ohio get the humor and act of love this slight detour signifies. I took a lot of teasing that summer and still do even to this day!
Then came the fall and a two year courtship with my proposing to her on Christmas Eve, 1969, during the Machunas family gift exchange - her engagement ring was tied to
a rocking chair which was my other gift to her. This was rather bold since we knew her dad was not crazy about us marrying because I was considering being a United Methodist pastor and they were a devout Roman Catholic family. Her sister and mother ran interference for us. (Oh, another side note: I actually took her sister, Susie, out on a date before Dorothy and I went out. We went to see "The Graduate" - a really appropriate first date movie!)
We were married August 22, 1970 at St. John's Catholic Church in Continental. What a wonderfully beautiful bride she was (still is) and what an awesome day we enjoyed! The rest - first night at Riverview Inn in Tiffin, honeymoon at Lake Hope, moving into the dorm after two weeks of marriage for two-a-days, getting sick on the honeymoon, rice in her suitcase and her clothes tied in knots (thanks Nini!), family gatherings, etc. will have to be another post, another day.
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, DOROTHY! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN THE WORDS CAN EVER MEAN!!!
We've been married 43 years as of today (August 22, 2013)! Seems like an appropriate time to reflect a bit on those years of marriage and the wonderful woman I was fortunate to meet on the ONU campus 46 years ago.
I really don't remember the first time I noticed Dorothy Machunas on ONU's campus - my suspicion is it was in Ron Evan's math classroom. But we also began to travel in the same circle of friends and it might have been an occasion prior to the first class. What I do know is at some point I discovered she was from Continental, a community about 9 miles from my hometown of Ottawa, Ohio, and she was a math major. She was one of three popular and good looking ladies from that small community who decided ONU was a good place for them to continue their education.
The first "setting the scene side-note" I would share builds on one of those I shared in my recent post about the relationship between Ron Evans and me/us. Mr. Evans was also Dorothy's adviser because she was a math education major. We were in the same first math class and Mr. Evans was the professor. While I don't remember this happening, I've heard her tell the story so many times over the years I feel fairly competent to repeat it. As our first day of class was closing, Mr. Evans announced that he would like Dorothy Machunas to stay after class.
She was shocked, scared, confused, etc. She couldn't imagine what he wanted to see her about. When everyone else had left he asked her if Janet Meyers had been her high school math teacher. She softly answered, "Yes." He then said: "Well, she was my high school math teacher as well, so I know what I can expect out of you!" (Mrs. Meyers had taught at Vaughnsville High School before taking a position in Continental and Ron Evans had graduated from Vaughnsville. Yes, it is a small world!)
The second "setting the scene side-note" I would offer happened as my long-time high school girlfriend was breaking up with me. I think I wrote or called her everyday for several weeks lamenting her decision and trying to convince her we could/should make it work. I believe it was in one of her letters to me that she wisely/desperately/innocently stated: "Surely there are girls at ONU that are attractive and nice that you could date."
I'm not terribly proud of all of my response but it's what I wrote back: "Well, there's one, maybe, but she's from Continental!" (My apologies to all my many wonderful relatives and friends I have today from Continental! Please forgive me! I was trying to be humorous and honest at the same time.) The one girl I had in mind was Dorothy. But we were friends. And she began to date pretty seriously a fellow ONU football teammate of mine. Still, we spent a lot of time together that year because of the classes and friends we shared.
I managed to start dating three girls during the rest of that freshmen year. I'm not really sure how much time overlapped in those relationships but I'm pretty sure that there were months when I was dating more than one at a time. It was pretty easy to pull off since only one was on campus and the other two were in Dayton and Defiance. To be honest, I'm a little embarrassed by this confession because they were all three very nice and I had a wonderful relationship with each one of them.
Well, the summer after our freshmen year a friend of mine, Bill Horstman, and I decided we were going to impart our new attitudes and ideas about race, war, etc. to our hometowns of Ottawa and Glandorf. Our way of doing so was to open a coffee house, The Serenity House (I'll save most of the stories about that for another blog post). Once in awhile that summer Dorothy would bring a friend or two over to the coffee house. On one of those nights it was her roommate and close friend, Nini.
After some time at the coffee house we decided to head to "My Place" for some dancing and further socializing. My Place was a local bar with live bands and a dance floor one block from my home. Late in the evening we decided to go outside to cool off. Then we decided to walk the 1/2 mile or so to the West Main Street bridge over the Blanchard River. I don't remember who all was with us but I know it was Dorothy, Nini, Horse, Big Dave and myself. This was a common route for me when I needed a break from studying when I was in high school. On our way to the bridge lights went on simultaneously in my head and heart, I was in love with Dorothy! Oh, she wasn't aware yet. We were still just friends.
We made plans to go hear my roommate, Carl (Larry) Martin, preach in an area UM church. When I dropped her off, I leaned over and kissed her - she wasn't expecting it. The rest of the summer we saw each other almost every day, even if it meant me taking a detour through Rice when delivering or picking up eggs between our eggplant in Ottawa to the eggplant in Delphos. She worked at a restaurant in Rice run by Charlie Bill. Only people from that area of Ohio get the humor and act of love this slight detour signifies. I took a lot of teasing that summer and still do even to this day!
Then came the fall and a two year courtship with my proposing to her on Christmas Eve, 1969, during the Machunas family gift exchange - her engagement ring was tied to
a rocking chair which was my other gift to her. This was rather bold since we knew her dad was not crazy about us marrying because I was considering being a United Methodist pastor and they were a devout Roman Catholic family. Her sister and mother ran interference for us. (Oh, another side note: I actually took her sister, Susie, out on a date before Dorothy and I went out. We went to see "The Graduate" - a really appropriate first date movie!)
We were married August 22, 1970 at St. John's Catholic Church in Continental. What a wonderfully beautiful bride she was (still is) and what an awesome day we enjoyed! The rest - first night at Riverview Inn in Tiffin, honeymoon at Lake Hope, moving into the dorm after two weeks of marriage for two-a-days, getting sick on the honeymoon, rice in her suitcase and her clothes tied in knots (thanks Nini!), family gatherings, etc. will have to be another post, another day.
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, DOROTHY! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN THE WORDS CAN EVER MEAN!!!
Monday, August 19, 2013
Forgiven Anyone Lately?
Luke 7:36-8:3
Ever heard this one? “I eat peas with honey, / Been doin’ it all my life; / It tastes kind of funny, / But it keeps the peas on my knife.”
Have you ever eaten peas with a knife? I vaguely remember my dad eating some of his food that way. My wife is thankful that it’s one of the odd things my dad did that I chose not to make a part of my life.
Cori Connors told the story of how it came to be a custom in her family in a story she wrote for Guideposts a few years ago. Her mother was often teased for eating her peas with a knife, but it’s the reason she did it that has left a deep impression on Cori and the rest of the family.
Her mom grew up during the Depression and like so many didn’t have very much. The family did have a vegetable garden though and strangers passing through town were often at their dinner table for the evening meal.
Cori’s grandfather, her mother's father, brought home a man named Henry one day. Henry didn’t know much English but he left no doubt of his appreciation. When they sat down for the evening meal the family politely waited for Henry to take the first bite. To their amazement he began to eat his peas with his knife! The children could hardly contain their giggles. A look from their dad that told them to keep it under control helped. But, it’s what he did next that would stick with Cori’s mom. He picked up his own knife and began to eat his peas with it as well. He wasn’t as good as Henry but he stayed at it until he captured every pea.
Cori’s mom ate peas with a knife the rest of her life because it reminded her of her dad’s commitment to treating people with dignity in spite of our differences. She saw what her dad did as a concrete example of what it means to truly accept others. Her children and grandchildren continue the custom to remind them of the importance of accepting others.”1
Paderewski, the great pianist, was invited to attend a piano recital of a friend’s daughter. When the little girl saw the famous pianist in the audience, she froze and was unable to perform her piece. She broke down in tears.
After the recital, Paderewski walked up to her and without saying a word, bent down and tenderly kissed her on the forehead and left.2
A Pharisee once threw a dinner party. Jesus was invited. Now, houses of well-to-do folks in that day were built around an open courtyard. Meals were often eaten out there when the weather was warm. (The courtyards were sort of the decks or patios of our day.) One of the customs of that day was that when a rabbi was present anyone could come in and stand around listening for the pearls of wisdom that were sure to be spoken.3 Some Bible scholars believe that’s why the woman was there.
Despite the New Testament’s portrayal of Pharisees as these sort of bad guys, they were really regarded as good people – devoutly religious folks. They were committed to living according to the ways of God.
Some have wondered why the Pharisee invited Jesus to his party. Some have suggested that he might actually have been an admirer of Jesus – that he sympathized with him. The fact that the Pharisee was discourteous to him – not offering him the kiss of peace or washing his feet when he entered as was the custom of a host in that day – probably is cause to rule this idea out though.
Others have suggested that he might have invited him in hopes of enticing him into making a comment or performing an unlawful act that would give his enemies the ammunition they needed to bring charges against him. This seems unlikely as well since the Pharisee called him “Rabbi.”
Most Bible scholars believe what was going on was that the Pharisee, whose name was Simon, liked being seen with important people. Thus, they believe he was trying to capitalize on the fame of Jesus.4
Now, Jesus was known for enjoying a good party. Religious people accused him of being a winebibber and glutton. But, the real charge against him was because of the kind of people he often partied with – those known to be sinners.
Take the woman who showed up at Simon’s party. She was one bad girl, folks. Everyone else at the party apparently knew it and Simon was embarrassed by Jesus’ apparent lack of recognition of her unworthiness. Everyone knew she was a woman of the city – a prostitute. She probably wasn’t dressed appropriately for a party at a Pharisee’s house. Her make up was probably a bit excessive compared to the other women present. And then, there were the rules of etiquette she broke – a woman letting down her hair in public was a no-no. Her behavior had to be embarrassing to most who were there: emptying perfume on someone’s feet – blubbering enough tears to use them to wash another’s feet – kissing his feet. The people at the party had to have been more than a bit repulsed.
One bible scholar offers his take on the scene with these words: “Luke goes to great lengths to show the scandalousness of Jesus’ defiling contact with this sinner. Luke paints her actions toward Jesus in the most sensitive, sensual colors. And Jesus has allowed this woman to touch him. The Greek word for ‘touch’ here … can mean, and may mean here, ‘to caress, to light a fire, to fondle.’ Obviously, a kind of scandalous eroticism permeates this encounter, which adds to the general scandalousness of the episode.”5
I think it took a lot of courage for that woman to go to that party. I mean, to go uninvited into the home of a known religious man like Simon; to go when she was neither a member of the family or an invited guest; to go in and know that people were going to point at her, whisper about her and that her actions were going to be met with disapproval, condemnation. It took a lot of courage to do that.
I wonder if she’d have enough courage to attend a gathering of some of Jesus’ followers in our day – you know, a church. In Philip Yancey’s book What’s So Amazing About Grace he tells this really tough story that a friend who works among the down and out in Chicago told him.
His friend told him of a visit from a prostitute who was homeless, sick, and unable to buy food for her two-year-old daughter. While crying she told Yancey’s friend that she rented out her two-year-old daughter to men. She said that she made more renting her daughter for an hour than she could earn in a night. She told of doing it to support her daughter and her drug habit. (I know, pretty sick, right!?) Yancey’s friend shared how he could hardly bear hearing her story because he was legally liable to report it as child abuse. He said he was desperate for something to say to this woman. And so, he finally asked her if she had ever thought of going to a church for help. It’s what she said next that is why Yancey thought the terrible story important to include in his challenging book: “’Church!’ she cried, ‘Why would I ever go there? I was already feeling terrible about myself. They’d just make me feel worse.’”
“’What struck me about my friend’s story,’ says Philip Yancey, “is that women much like this prostitute fled toward Jesus, not away from him. The worse a person felt about herself, the more likely she saw Jesus as a refuge. Has the church lost that gift?” Yancey asks. “Evidently the down-and-out, who flocked to Jesus when he lived on earth, no longer feel welcome among his followers. What has happened?”6
Friends, if persons who are feeling guilty, ashamed, in need of the grace of God are afraid to enter a church to experience it because they sense all of us who are already in are too good for them – too religious – can’t relate to what they are going through – will judge them – look funny at them – be able to tell they don’t belong – where do they turn? Is there anything we can do to turn it around – to make the church more like Jesus – accepting of the unacceptable – rather than an inconvenient place to find Jesus?7
There’s no question about it, Jesus sided with sinners whenever the opportunity arose – no matter what the cost might be to his reputation. No matter how uncomfortable it makes us, we have to accept that these stories about a prostitute washing his feet and the Good Samaritan and the Prodigal Son and the woman caught in adultery and … Jesus opted for a ministry of acceptance. Sometimes it’s just more than we decent people can swallow. But, it’s what motivates a good sound bite like our United Methodist media campaign: "Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors." It’s not just “a nice advertising gimmick”, as one woman smirkingly whispered during a session of the Annual Conference a few years ago to those of us around her when it was used on the floor during a debate of why membership in the United Methodist Church should be open to all. We need these stories to keep us forever aware that Jesus is on the side of sinners and the church is not the church unless our ministry reflects that.8
That last comment wasn’t spoken first by me despite how passionately I agree with it. The preacher who stated it in a sermon went on to describe an experience he had at his annual conference a few years ago. He had written all the ministers of his conference urging them to support a petition taking what he considers the moral high ground on sexuality issues which was going to go to that year’s General Conference of the United Methodist Church. He went on in this sermon to share an experience he had that I think is one of the dangerous byproducts of our trying to carve out who is in and who is not – who is acceptable and who is not.
Here’s the rest of his account: “A retired preacher was expressing his appreciation for my strong stand, but then he threw me a curve. He started talking about a preacher who had baptized a baby born outside of marriage. There was anger in his voice, condemnation. He used the word ‘bastard’ as a label for this child. And there was venom in his voice as he talked about the father of the baby being present at the baptism. How could the preacher do it? Baptize this baby born out of wedlock and the father allowed to be present.
“I thought I was talking to Simon the Pharisee, and I thanked God he was a retired, not an active preacher. I wondered. Had he missed that throughout his ministry? Open door to whom and to what? Christ is on the side of sinners!”9 All of us sinners, not just those who go to church with us or hold the same moral attitudes or can pass the litmus test of acceptable doctrinal and/or denominational beliefs.
The greatest need we have is to be accepted. Acceptance is so powerful it’s been known to change people. “A child psychologist told about a boy who was brought to him who was labeled ‘incorrigible.’ The child was supposed to be ‘uncontrollable.’ He was moody, and at first wouldn’t even talk to the psychologist. There simply seemed to be no ‘handle’ with which to take hold of him. The boy’s own father, said, ‘This is the only child I’ve ever seen who doesn’t have a single likeable trait, not a single one.’ The psychologist realized this was his starting point. He started looking for some one thing he could approve. He found several. The boy liked to carve and he did it well. At home he had carved up the furniture and been punished for it. The psychologist bought him a carving set, a set of carving knives, and some soft wood. He also gave him some suggestions about how to use them, and didn’t hold back his approval. ‘You know, Jimmy,’ he said, ‘You can carve out things better than any boy I ever knew.’ To make a long story short, the psychologist soon found other things he could approve, and one day Jimmy surprised everyone by cleaning up his own room without being asked. When the psychologist asked him why he did it, Jimmy answered, ‘I thought you would like that.’10
This past weekend we went to see Smurff's 2. I've already admitted on Facebook that I like animated movies - can't wait to go see "Planes" - the grandkids give me excuses to go see them. There were many wonderful one-liners in Smurff's 2, but one is especially relevant to what we're dealing with now. Papa Smurff comments at one point that they didn't accept Smurfette because she changed, but that she changed because they believed in her. That will preach, folks!
Aceptance changes lives. We’ve all seen it happen. When people feel accepted, they find the power to change. I think it’s one of the secrets of Jesus’ ministry. He accepted people just as they were and he changed their lives.
We, the church, are called to be an accepting community in order that people’s lives might be changed. We are not an exclusive club, membership in which is reserved for the already good. The purpose of our getting together is not so we can congratulate one another on how good and righteous we all are. We are those who have been accepted and are committed to passing on that acceptance to others.
Robert Falconer was once witnessing among the destitute people in a certain city. He read to them the story of the woman who wiped Jesus’ feet with her tears. While he was reading he heard a loud sob and looked up at a young, thin girl whose face was disfigured by small pox. After he spoke a few words of encouragement to her, she said ‘Will he ever come again, the one who forgave the woman? I have heard that he will come again. Will it be soon?”
Falconer replied that it would be soon.
After sobbing again uncontrollably, she said, “Sir, can’t he wait a little while? My hair ain’t long enough yet to wipe his feet.”11
I don’t know about you but I crave to be part of a community of faith, or a community of any kind, where people might know they are welcome and able to receive not only the grace of God theoretically but experientially.
1 Cori Connors, Guideposts, “On the Cutting Edge,” March 1997, p. 36.
2 John R. Brokhoff, Lent: A Time of Tears, CSS Publishing Company.
3 William Barclay, The Daily Study Bible: The Gospel of Luke (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1956), p. 92-93.
4 Ibid., p. 93-94.
5 William Willimon, “Jesus: Eating and Drinking with Sinners!,” Pulpit Resource, April, May, June, 2007, p. 54.
6 Philip Yancey, What’s So Amazing About Grace? (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan Publishing House, 1997), p. 11.
7 David Kalas, Emphasis, May/June 2007, p. 55.
8 Maxie Dunnam, “Who Loves More?,” 2006, 0-000-000-400.
9 Ibid.
10 King Duncan, “On Eating Peas with a Knife,” Collected Sermons, Dynamic Preaching, 2005, 0-000-0000-20.
11 Stephen Brown, When Being Good Isn’t Good Enough (Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1990), p. .
Luke 7:36-8:3
Ever heard this one? “I eat peas with honey, / Been doin’ it all my life; / It tastes kind of funny, / But it keeps the peas on my knife.”
Have you ever eaten peas with a knife? I vaguely remember my dad eating some of his food that way. My wife is thankful that it’s one of the odd things my dad did that I chose not to make a part of my life.
Cori Connors told the story of how it came to be a custom in her family in a story she wrote for Guideposts a few years ago. Her mother was often teased for eating her peas with a knife, but it’s the reason she did it that has left a deep impression on Cori and the rest of the family.
Her mom grew up during the Depression and like so many didn’t have very much. The family did have a vegetable garden though and strangers passing through town were often at their dinner table for the evening meal.
Cori’s grandfather, her mother's father, brought home a man named Henry one day. Henry didn’t know much English but he left no doubt of his appreciation. When they sat down for the evening meal the family politely waited for Henry to take the first bite. To their amazement he began to eat his peas with his knife! The children could hardly contain their giggles. A look from their dad that told them to keep it under control helped. But, it’s what he did next that would stick with Cori’s mom. He picked up his own knife and began to eat his peas with it as well. He wasn’t as good as Henry but he stayed at it until he captured every pea.
Cori’s mom ate peas with a knife the rest of her life because it reminded her of her dad’s commitment to treating people with dignity in spite of our differences. She saw what her dad did as a concrete example of what it means to truly accept others. Her children and grandchildren continue the custom to remind them of the importance of accepting others.”1
Paderewski, the great pianist, was invited to attend a piano recital of a friend’s daughter. When the little girl saw the famous pianist in the audience, she froze and was unable to perform her piece. She broke down in tears.
After the recital, Paderewski walked up to her and without saying a word, bent down and tenderly kissed her on the forehead and left.2
A Pharisee once threw a dinner party. Jesus was invited. Now, houses of well-to-do folks in that day were built around an open courtyard. Meals were often eaten out there when the weather was warm. (The courtyards were sort of the decks or patios of our day.) One of the customs of that day was that when a rabbi was present anyone could come in and stand around listening for the pearls of wisdom that were sure to be spoken.3 Some Bible scholars believe that’s why the woman was there.
Despite the New Testament’s portrayal of Pharisees as these sort of bad guys, they were really regarded as good people – devoutly religious folks. They were committed to living according to the ways of God.
Some have wondered why the Pharisee invited Jesus to his party. Some have suggested that he might actually have been an admirer of Jesus – that he sympathized with him. The fact that the Pharisee was discourteous to him – not offering him the kiss of peace or washing his feet when he entered as was the custom of a host in that day – probably is cause to rule this idea out though.
Others have suggested that he might have invited him in hopes of enticing him into making a comment or performing an unlawful act that would give his enemies the ammunition they needed to bring charges against him. This seems unlikely as well since the Pharisee called him “Rabbi.”
Most Bible scholars believe what was going on was that the Pharisee, whose name was Simon, liked being seen with important people. Thus, they believe he was trying to capitalize on the fame of Jesus.4
Now, Jesus was known for enjoying a good party. Religious people accused him of being a winebibber and glutton. But, the real charge against him was because of the kind of people he often partied with – those known to be sinners.
Take the woman who showed up at Simon’s party. She was one bad girl, folks. Everyone else at the party apparently knew it and Simon was embarrassed by Jesus’ apparent lack of recognition of her unworthiness. Everyone knew she was a woman of the city – a prostitute. She probably wasn’t dressed appropriately for a party at a Pharisee’s house. Her make up was probably a bit excessive compared to the other women present. And then, there were the rules of etiquette she broke – a woman letting down her hair in public was a no-no. Her behavior had to be embarrassing to most who were there: emptying perfume on someone’s feet – blubbering enough tears to use them to wash another’s feet – kissing his feet. The people at the party had to have been more than a bit repulsed.
One bible scholar offers his take on the scene with these words: “Luke goes to great lengths to show the scandalousness of Jesus’ defiling contact with this sinner. Luke paints her actions toward Jesus in the most sensitive, sensual colors. And Jesus has allowed this woman to touch him. The Greek word for ‘touch’ here … can mean, and may mean here, ‘to caress, to light a fire, to fondle.’ Obviously, a kind of scandalous eroticism permeates this encounter, which adds to the general scandalousness of the episode.”5
I think it took a lot of courage for that woman to go to that party. I mean, to go uninvited into the home of a known religious man like Simon; to go when she was neither a member of the family or an invited guest; to go in and know that people were going to point at her, whisper about her and that her actions were going to be met with disapproval, condemnation. It took a lot of courage to do that.
I wonder if she’d have enough courage to attend a gathering of some of Jesus’ followers in our day – you know, a church. In Philip Yancey’s book What’s So Amazing About Grace he tells this really tough story that a friend who works among the down and out in Chicago told him.
His friend told him of a visit from a prostitute who was homeless, sick, and unable to buy food for her two-year-old daughter. While crying she told Yancey’s friend that she rented out her two-year-old daughter to men. She said that she made more renting her daughter for an hour than she could earn in a night. She told of doing it to support her daughter and her drug habit. (I know, pretty sick, right!?) Yancey’s friend shared how he could hardly bear hearing her story because he was legally liable to report it as child abuse. He said he was desperate for something to say to this woman. And so, he finally asked her if she had ever thought of going to a church for help. It’s what she said next that is why Yancey thought the terrible story important to include in his challenging book: “’Church!’ she cried, ‘Why would I ever go there? I was already feeling terrible about myself. They’d just make me feel worse.’”
“’What struck me about my friend’s story,’ says Philip Yancey, “is that women much like this prostitute fled toward Jesus, not away from him. The worse a person felt about herself, the more likely she saw Jesus as a refuge. Has the church lost that gift?” Yancey asks. “Evidently the down-and-out, who flocked to Jesus when he lived on earth, no longer feel welcome among his followers. What has happened?”6
Friends, if persons who are feeling guilty, ashamed, in need of the grace of God are afraid to enter a church to experience it because they sense all of us who are already in are too good for them – too religious – can’t relate to what they are going through – will judge them – look funny at them – be able to tell they don’t belong – where do they turn? Is there anything we can do to turn it around – to make the church more like Jesus – accepting of the unacceptable – rather than an inconvenient place to find Jesus?7
There’s no question about it, Jesus sided with sinners whenever the opportunity arose – no matter what the cost might be to his reputation. No matter how uncomfortable it makes us, we have to accept that these stories about a prostitute washing his feet and the Good Samaritan and the Prodigal Son and the woman caught in adultery and … Jesus opted for a ministry of acceptance. Sometimes it’s just more than we decent people can swallow. But, it’s what motivates a good sound bite like our United Methodist media campaign: "Open Hearts, Open Minds, Open Doors." It’s not just “a nice advertising gimmick”, as one woman smirkingly whispered during a session of the Annual Conference a few years ago to those of us around her when it was used on the floor during a debate of why membership in the United Methodist Church should be open to all. We need these stories to keep us forever aware that Jesus is on the side of sinners and the church is not the church unless our ministry reflects that.8
That last comment wasn’t spoken first by me despite how passionately I agree with it. The preacher who stated it in a sermon went on to describe an experience he had at his annual conference a few years ago. He had written all the ministers of his conference urging them to support a petition taking what he considers the moral high ground on sexuality issues which was going to go to that year’s General Conference of the United Methodist Church. He went on in this sermon to share an experience he had that I think is one of the dangerous byproducts of our trying to carve out who is in and who is not – who is acceptable and who is not.
Here’s the rest of his account: “A retired preacher was expressing his appreciation for my strong stand, but then he threw me a curve. He started talking about a preacher who had baptized a baby born outside of marriage. There was anger in his voice, condemnation. He used the word ‘bastard’ as a label for this child. And there was venom in his voice as he talked about the father of the baby being present at the baptism. How could the preacher do it? Baptize this baby born out of wedlock and the father allowed to be present.
“I thought I was talking to Simon the Pharisee, and I thanked God he was a retired, not an active preacher. I wondered. Had he missed that throughout his ministry? Open door to whom and to what? Christ is on the side of sinners!”9 All of us sinners, not just those who go to church with us or hold the same moral attitudes or can pass the litmus test of acceptable doctrinal and/or denominational beliefs.
The greatest need we have is to be accepted. Acceptance is so powerful it’s been known to change people. “A child psychologist told about a boy who was brought to him who was labeled ‘incorrigible.’ The child was supposed to be ‘uncontrollable.’ He was moody, and at first wouldn’t even talk to the psychologist. There simply seemed to be no ‘handle’ with which to take hold of him. The boy’s own father, said, ‘This is the only child I’ve ever seen who doesn’t have a single likeable trait, not a single one.’ The psychologist realized this was his starting point. He started looking for some one thing he could approve. He found several. The boy liked to carve and he did it well. At home he had carved up the furniture and been punished for it. The psychologist bought him a carving set, a set of carving knives, and some soft wood. He also gave him some suggestions about how to use them, and didn’t hold back his approval. ‘You know, Jimmy,’ he said, ‘You can carve out things better than any boy I ever knew.’ To make a long story short, the psychologist soon found other things he could approve, and one day Jimmy surprised everyone by cleaning up his own room without being asked. When the psychologist asked him why he did it, Jimmy answered, ‘I thought you would like that.’10
This past weekend we went to see Smurff's 2. I've already admitted on Facebook that I like animated movies - can't wait to go see "Planes" - the grandkids give me excuses to go see them. There were many wonderful one-liners in Smurff's 2, but one is especially relevant to what we're dealing with now. Papa Smurff comments at one point that they didn't accept Smurfette because she changed, but that she changed because they believed in her. That will preach, folks!
Aceptance changes lives. We’ve all seen it happen. When people feel accepted, they find the power to change. I think it’s one of the secrets of Jesus’ ministry. He accepted people just as they were and he changed their lives.
We, the church, are called to be an accepting community in order that people’s lives might be changed. We are not an exclusive club, membership in which is reserved for the already good. The purpose of our getting together is not so we can congratulate one another on how good and righteous we all are. We are those who have been accepted and are committed to passing on that acceptance to others.
Robert Falconer was once witnessing among the destitute people in a certain city. He read to them the story of the woman who wiped Jesus’ feet with her tears. While he was reading he heard a loud sob and looked up at a young, thin girl whose face was disfigured by small pox. After he spoke a few words of encouragement to her, she said ‘Will he ever come again, the one who forgave the woman? I have heard that he will come again. Will it be soon?”
Falconer replied that it would be soon.
After sobbing again uncontrollably, she said, “Sir, can’t he wait a little while? My hair ain’t long enough yet to wipe his feet.”11
I don’t know about you but I crave to be part of a community of faith, or a community of any kind, where people might know they are welcome and able to receive not only the grace of God theoretically but experientially.
1 Cori Connors, Guideposts, “On the Cutting Edge,” March 1997, p. 36.
2 John R. Brokhoff, Lent: A Time of Tears, CSS Publishing Company.
3 William Barclay, The Daily Study Bible: The Gospel of Luke (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1956), p. 92-93.
4 Ibid., p. 93-94.
5 William Willimon, “Jesus: Eating and Drinking with Sinners!,” Pulpit Resource, April, May, June, 2007, p. 54.
6 Philip Yancey, What’s So Amazing About Grace? (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan Publishing House, 1997), p. 11.
7 David Kalas, Emphasis, May/June 2007, p. 55.
8 Maxie Dunnam, “Who Loves More?,” 2006, 0-000-000-400.
9 Ibid.
10 King Duncan, “On Eating Peas with a Knife,” Collected Sermons, Dynamic Preaching, 2005, 0-000-0000-20.
11 Stephen Brown, When Being Good Isn’t Good Enough (Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1990), p. .
Friday, August 16, 2013
Sermon: "By Faith"
By Faith
Hebrews 11:29-12:2
If I was to make a list of my favorite scripture passages, this would be one of them. I often used it at funerals when celebrating the life of particularly faithful and active church members. The 11th chapter of Hebrews is a masterful chapter noting the Hall of Fame of the faithful. The Roll Call of Faith includes such persons as: Abel & Enoch & Noah & Abraham & Sarah & Isaac & Jacob & Joseph & Moses & Moses’ parents & the prostitute Rahab & Gideon & Barak & Samson & David & Samuel & the prophets – “Name after name is given of those faithful heroes who: ‘by faith conquered kingdoms, by faith enforced justice, by faith received promises, by faith stopped the mouths of lions, by faith quenched raging fire, by faith escaped the edge of the sword, by faith won strength out of weakness, by faith became mighty in war, by faith put foreign armies to flight’ (Hebrews 11:33-34).”1 For those who know their old testament, it really is an impressive litany!
Let me see if I can recreate the emotion – the feeling – this writer of Hebrews awakened in those who read his letter. A few weeks ago the annual Pro Football Hall of Fame game was played in Canton, Ohio, where the Pro Football Hall of Fame is housed. How many of you have ever been to the Hall?
Well, imagine if you will when the game is played the stands being filled with former inductees into the Hall of Fame as well as the ones being elected this particular year – imagine the players on the two teams playing knowing that in the stands are the greats of the sport. Imagine looking up into the stands and seeing Johnny Unitas, Jim Thorpe, Walter Peyton, Raymond Berry, Dick Butkus, Ray Nitchkie, George Halas, Tom Landry, Bill Walsh, Vince Lombardi – and then, if you’ll beg a little partisanship: Jimmy Brown, Paul Brown, Lou Groza, Gene Hickerson, Ozzie Newsome, Paul Warfield.
“These are the men to whom the game belonged before (the current players) took the field. These are the players and coaches who set records and won championships. Trophies and awards are named after these guys – and now they’re watching (the current players) play their game.”2 Can you imagine what it would mean to know that those were the guys in the stands cheering you on? Wouldn’t you think it would cause a player to step up their game a little if they knew those guys were in the stands watching? Don’t you think they’d want to try and do their best in memory – in honor – of what the heroes of the game did?
At the start of chapter 12, the author of the letter to the Hebrews wrote what I think is one of the most memorable, inspiring, motivating phrases in all of religious history: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses,” and then he continues with, “let’s throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:1-2)
“Carlyle Marney called these witnesses our balcony people. He said that we all have people who sit in our balcony and cheer us on. People of all ages who enable us to run the race with perseverance and grace. We can’t run the race alone. We find our way because there was (all those named by the author of Hebrews) and a multitude of others. But we run the race faithfully because of all those other nameless champions. It might be a mother, an aunt, a father, a cousin, or a scout leader. It might be a teacher or pastor or youth leader or neighbor or author of some book we have read. (The questions we might want to ask ourselves include) “Who sits in our balcony? Who cheers us on? Who is it that made it possible for us to keep on keeping on? (Or, we might want to reverse the order.) Whose balcony do we sit in? Whom do we cheer on? Who is it that counts on us and our faith and fidelity?”3
I absolutely enjoy the Olympics. I’ve been to two – Montreal in 1976 and Atlanta in 1996. I watch as much of the games as possible. I'm especially attentive to the track and field events. In the ancient games, it was primarily what was contested and it’s that image that the author of the letter to the Hebrews was drawing upon in this portion of his letter.
Several years ago I came across a description of the scene that those in the early church probably visualized when they read these words from the author of the letter to them. I long ago lost the source of this description, but I hope it helps recreate the scene in your mind: “The nearby sea is like sapphire, the sky cloudless and of the deepest blue. The air is soft and the sunshine warm. In the distance are the graceful brown columns of a Greek temple. Along the highway running from the temple in the stadium are busts and tablets on which are inscribed the names of the winners in the Olympian Games in past years. Along the race course rise, tier upon tier, the marble seats of the stadium, crowded today with visitors from all parts of the Greek world who have come for the annual celebration of the games.
“Presently, there is the sharp, clear, commanding note of the herald’s trumpet calling the runners to their marks. A hush comes over the expectant crowd. From out of their training booths the racers come, trained to the moment, not an ounce of superfluous flesh sagging from their splendidly molded bodies, bronzed by the sunlight. At another blast from the trumpet announcing that the runners should get set, they take their place on the starting line, every muscle tense and set. Among the thousands who line the course not a word, not even a whisper, is heard. Suddenly there rings out the third blast on the trumpet, and the racers are off like an arrow, straining for the distant goal. Save for a loin cloth, they are naked. For months they have trained for this race, abstaining from strong drink and rich foods and the pleasure of the world. The ambition of each racer’s life is to have his name inscribed on one of those memorial tablets and to have the laurel crown of victory placed on his brow. As they flash down the course, their friends on the marble seats, who happen to be from that part of Greece from which a particular runner comes, shout their encouragement to them.”4
With that image in our minds let us again hear the words those struggling to stay faithful read in this letter from one concerned about the possibility of their giving up the faith: “Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.” I love the way Eugene Peterson puts it in his contemporary translation The Message: “Do you see what this means – all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running – and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed – that exhilarating finish in and with God – he could put up with anything along the way: cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!”5
The last time I preached on this text was the Sunday after Dorothy and I were informed by the neurologist at the Cleveland Clinic that unless something showed up in the spinal tap, which she didn't believe was going to happen, her diagnosis was "probable ALS." It was Friday, August 13, 2010. While it wasn't official enough for us to share yet, it was apparently enough on my mind that next Sunday morning to disrupt my reading of the above illustration about racing; trained, bronzed, and molded bodies; tense muscles; ambition. With no warning, I lost it. One of the members of the church began to make his way to the chancel area, but somehow I regained enough composure to finish the sermon. Flooding my mind and interrupting my presentation were images of my athletic and active body not being able to do what I had done before - thoughts of my being among the crowd of witnesses in the stands cheering others on - thoughts of those who had already cheered me on in my life - thoughts of those I was going to have to rely on in the future - already that morning I was thinking that I wasn't going to be standing in that pulpit very much longer - thoughts of how long - thoughts about not being able to have very many more years with Dorothy and the kids and grandkids and the rest of our families and friends. Yeah, it truly was a flood of thoughts and emotions!
We are indeed surrounded on every side by a crowd of great people we cannot see – a cloud of witnesses – who have run the race by faith before us. Just as the spectators on the crowded benches of the amphitheaters watched and cheered on their friends who ran in the races, so do those of the faith, and others, do so for us today. Believe me when I say, it is that crowd of witnesses, the living and the dead, who help us keep going in the midst of the challenges we face daily. It is in the presence of all the heroes of the faith – of all those who lived by faith throughout history that we live our lives as Christians – that we run this race of life.
Think about it! Along the way as we try to run the life set before us – watching, observing – are those who lived by faith – the heroes of faith – those who occupy the hall of fame. In one section our fans include that ancient litany we heard in the letter to the Hebrews: Abraham & Sarah & Isaac & Jacob & Moses & Elijah & Samuel & Jeremiah; & then there is that section of those we know about from the New Testament: Peter & James & John & Paul & Mary & Martha & Priscilla. And in still another section are the martyrs – and closer to our time we hear the cheers coming from the reformers – and then we pass before the great preachers and teachers and missionaries and musicians – and then, even closer to our day, we visualize that section of relatives: grandparents, and parents and aunts and uncles, maybe brothers and sisters – and then there’s a section of people in the churches we’ve been a part of: the YF leaders, the camp counselors, the Sunday School teachers – all there in the stands waiting for us to join them but encouraging us on the way in this life.
Yes, running the good race can sometimes hurt – we can indeed have faith pains as we try to run the race of faith – live by faith. Faithfulness does sometimes call us to love those others choose not to. Faithfulness does sometimes call us to take stands – to speak out – on issues within our country, within our community, within our church, and yes, even within our families at times, which might cause others to make fun of us – to stay away from us or reject us or disown us. We might even endure suffering for no apparent reason - not God's doing or wish even, please. Sometimes suffering just is our reality. Let me say it again: God is the comforter, companion on the journey, not the mean ogre playing games with his/her creatures for simple amusement to prove how unknowing, all-powerful, he/she is.
If we are going to be faithful in the midst of the pain that surely will come our way, then we must keep reminding ourselves of those who are on our side and we must - most importantly - keep our eyes on our Savior, Jesus Christ – “the author and perfector of our faith.”
Peace!
David Kalas, Emphasis, July/August, 2007, p. 57.
Ibid., p. 52.
Ibid., p. 57.
Unknown.
Eugene Peterson, The Message (Colorado Springs, Colorado: Navpress, 1993), p. 474.
Hebrews 11:29-12:2
If I was to make a list of my favorite scripture passages, this would be one of them. I often used it at funerals when celebrating the life of particularly faithful and active church members. The 11th chapter of Hebrews is a masterful chapter noting the Hall of Fame of the faithful. The Roll Call of Faith includes such persons as: Abel & Enoch & Noah & Abraham & Sarah & Isaac & Jacob & Joseph & Moses & Moses’ parents & the prostitute Rahab & Gideon & Barak & Samson & David & Samuel & the prophets – “Name after name is given of those faithful heroes who: ‘by faith conquered kingdoms, by faith enforced justice, by faith received promises, by faith stopped the mouths of lions, by faith quenched raging fire, by faith escaped the edge of the sword, by faith won strength out of weakness, by faith became mighty in war, by faith put foreign armies to flight’ (Hebrews 11:33-34).”1 For those who know their old testament, it really is an impressive litany!
Let me see if I can recreate the emotion – the feeling – this writer of Hebrews awakened in those who read his letter. A few weeks ago the annual Pro Football Hall of Fame game was played in Canton, Ohio, where the Pro Football Hall of Fame is housed. How many of you have ever been to the Hall?
Well, imagine if you will when the game is played the stands being filled with former inductees into the Hall of Fame as well as the ones being elected this particular year – imagine the players on the two teams playing knowing that in the stands are the greats of the sport. Imagine looking up into the stands and seeing Johnny Unitas, Jim Thorpe, Walter Peyton, Raymond Berry, Dick Butkus, Ray Nitchkie, George Halas, Tom Landry, Bill Walsh, Vince Lombardi – and then, if you’ll beg a little partisanship: Jimmy Brown, Paul Brown, Lou Groza, Gene Hickerson, Ozzie Newsome, Paul Warfield.
“These are the men to whom the game belonged before (the current players) took the field. These are the players and coaches who set records and won championships. Trophies and awards are named after these guys – and now they’re watching (the current players) play their game.”2 Can you imagine what it would mean to know that those were the guys in the stands cheering you on? Wouldn’t you think it would cause a player to step up their game a little if they knew those guys were in the stands watching? Don’t you think they’d want to try and do their best in memory – in honor – of what the heroes of the game did?
At the start of chapter 12, the author of the letter to the Hebrews wrote what I think is one of the most memorable, inspiring, motivating phrases in all of religious history: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses,” and then he continues with, “let’s throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:1-2)
“Carlyle Marney called these witnesses our balcony people. He said that we all have people who sit in our balcony and cheer us on. People of all ages who enable us to run the race with perseverance and grace. We can’t run the race alone. We find our way because there was (all those named by the author of Hebrews) and a multitude of others. But we run the race faithfully because of all those other nameless champions. It might be a mother, an aunt, a father, a cousin, or a scout leader. It might be a teacher or pastor or youth leader or neighbor or author of some book we have read. (The questions we might want to ask ourselves include) “Who sits in our balcony? Who cheers us on? Who is it that made it possible for us to keep on keeping on? (Or, we might want to reverse the order.) Whose balcony do we sit in? Whom do we cheer on? Who is it that counts on us and our faith and fidelity?”3
I absolutely enjoy the Olympics. I’ve been to two – Montreal in 1976 and Atlanta in 1996. I watch as much of the games as possible. I'm especially attentive to the track and field events. In the ancient games, it was primarily what was contested and it’s that image that the author of the letter to the Hebrews was drawing upon in this portion of his letter.
Several years ago I came across a description of the scene that those in the early church probably visualized when they read these words from the author of the letter to them. I long ago lost the source of this description, but I hope it helps recreate the scene in your mind: “The nearby sea is like sapphire, the sky cloudless and of the deepest blue. The air is soft and the sunshine warm. In the distance are the graceful brown columns of a Greek temple. Along the highway running from the temple in the stadium are busts and tablets on which are inscribed the names of the winners in the Olympian Games in past years. Along the race course rise, tier upon tier, the marble seats of the stadium, crowded today with visitors from all parts of the Greek world who have come for the annual celebration of the games.
“Presently, there is the sharp, clear, commanding note of the herald’s trumpet calling the runners to their marks. A hush comes over the expectant crowd. From out of their training booths the racers come, trained to the moment, not an ounce of superfluous flesh sagging from their splendidly molded bodies, bronzed by the sunlight. At another blast from the trumpet announcing that the runners should get set, they take their place on the starting line, every muscle tense and set. Among the thousands who line the course not a word, not even a whisper, is heard. Suddenly there rings out the third blast on the trumpet, and the racers are off like an arrow, straining for the distant goal. Save for a loin cloth, they are naked. For months they have trained for this race, abstaining from strong drink and rich foods and the pleasure of the world. The ambition of each racer’s life is to have his name inscribed on one of those memorial tablets and to have the laurel crown of victory placed on his brow. As they flash down the course, their friends on the marble seats, who happen to be from that part of Greece from which a particular runner comes, shout their encouragement to them.”4
With that image in our minds let us again hear the words those struggling to stay faithful read in this letter from one concerned about the possibility of their giving up the faith: “Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.” I love the way Eugene Peterson puts it in his contemporary translation The Message: “Do you see what this means – all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running – and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed – that exhilarating finish in and with God – he could put up with anything along the way: cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!”5
The last time I preached on this text was the Sunday after Dorothy and I were informed by the neurologist at the Cleveland Clinic that unless something showed up in the spinal tap, which she didn't believe was going to happen, her diagnosis was "probable ALS." It was Friday, August 13, 2010. While it wasn't official enough for us to share yet, it was apparently enough on my mind that next Sunday morning to disrupt my reading of the above illustration about racing; trained, bronzed, and molded bodies; tense muscles; ambition. With no warning, I lost it. One of the members of the church began to make his way to the chancel area, but somehow I regained enough composure to finish the sermon. Flooding my mind and interrupting my presentation were images of my athletic and active body not being able to do what I had done before - thoughts of my being among the crowd of witnesses in the stands cheering others on - thoughts of those who had already cheered me on in my life - thoughts of those I was going to have to rely on in the future - already that morning I was thinking that I wasn't going to be standing in that pulpit very much longer - thoughts of how long - thoughts about not being able to have very many more years with Dorothy and the kids and grandkids and the rest of our families and friends. Yeah, it truly was a flood of thoughts and emotions!
We are indeed surrounded on every side by a crowd of great people we cannot see – a cloud of witnesses – who have run the race by faith before us. Just as the spectators on the crowded benches of the amphitheaters watched and cheered on their friends who ran in the races, so do those of the faith, and others, do so for us today. Believe me when I say, it is that crowd of witnesses, the living and the dead, who help us keep going in the midst of the challenges we face daily. It is in the presence of all the heroes of the faith – of all those who lived by faith throughout history that we live our lives as Christians – that we run this race of life.
Think about it! Along the way as we try to run the life set before us – watching, observing – are those who lived by faith – the heroes of faith – those who occupy the hall of fame. In one section our fans include that ancient litany we heard in the letter to the Hebrews: Abraham & Sarah & Isaac & Jacob & Moses & Elijah & Samuel & Jeremiah; & then there is that section of those we know about from the New Testament: Peter & James & John & Paul & Mary & Martha & Priscilla. And in still another section are the martyrs – and closer to our time we hear the cheers coming from the reformers – and then we pass before the great preachers and teachers and missionaries and musicians – and then, even closer to our day, we visualize that section of relatives: grandparents, and parents and aunts and uncles, maybe brothers and sisters – and then there’s a section of people in the churches we’ve been a part of: the YF leaders, the camp counselors, the Sunday School teachers – all there in the stands waiting for us to join them but encouraging us on the way in this life.
Yes, running the good race can sometimes hurt – we can indeed have faith pains as we try to run the race of faith – live by faith. Faithfulness does sometimes call us to love those others choose not to. Faithfulness does sometimes call us to take stands – to speak out – on issues within our country, within our community, within our church, and yes, even within our families at times, which might cause others to make fun of us – to stay away from us or reject us or disown us. We might even endure suffering for no apparent reason - not God's doing or wish even, please. Sometimes suffering just is our reality. Let me say it again: God is the comforter, companion on the journey, not the mean ogre playing games with his/her creatures for simple amusement to prove how unknowing, all-powerful, he/she is.
If we are going to be faithful in the midst of the pain that surely will come our way, then we must keep reminding ourselves of those who are on our side and we must - most importantly - keep our eyes on our Savior, Jesus Christ – “the author and perfector of our faith.”
Peace!
David Kalas, Emphasis, July/August, 2007, p. 57.
Ibid., p. 52.
Ibid., p. 57.
Unknown.
Eugene Peterson, The Message (Colorado Springs, Colorado: Navpress, 1993), p. 474.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
"Memorable Math Moments and Mentors"
"Memorable Math Moments and Mentors"
Sorry for the amount of time that has passed since my last post, but getting the word out about the upcoming Walk to Defeat ALS (Sunday, September 29 at the Fred Beekman Park on the OSU campus) and the correspondence related to it has kept me fairly busy (not to mention a plethora of in the home appointments with nurses and therapists)! So many of you have become members of our Bill's Backers Walk team by signing up to walk and/or by your generous gifts that you've succeeded in adding to my daily routine the joy of composing and emailing heartfelt thank you notes. In case I've missed anyone, thank you all very much for your support and encouragement!
This is another post about some of the teachers that I have fond memories of and who influenced some of the choices I made in life. When I graduated from Ottawa-Glandorf High School in 1967 I had three personally assumed life/career goals that would surprise very few who knew me:
To be a math major at ONU so I could teach math in a high school.
To coach basketball.
To work with the youth in a local church.
While I ended up doing all three to some degree, the order/priority changed a bit by the middle of my sophomore year of college. In this post I want to reflect a bit about the interest in being a math major.
There's no question that my interest was first stimulated by my dad. He absolutely loved to work with numbers! Sometimes I thought he was in business by himself so that he could do his own books - be his own bookkeeper. I remember observing him in his office at the eggplant or at his desk in our home poring over slips of paper that represented notes about the number of dozens of eggs picked up from the chicken coops of area farmers; deliveries made to restaurants, grocery stores, and bakeries; hand-written time sheets of employees; and probably a few other things I'm forgetting right now.
And then he'd start computing - mostly in his head, but often rechecked with an early model adding machine. And if there was a discrepancy, he checked the work of the adding machine first assuming that he'd entered something wrong, rather than he made a math mistake in his head! But, it was his little shortcuts for adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing that most intrigued me! He knew so many interesting and intriguing things to do with numbers that I had to be interested in what he did and how he did it. I still use some of the things he taught me but I do so without thinking about it and sometimes I have difficulty explaining the how and the why.
That would never have worked in the classrooms of two of the most outstanding teachers I ever had! Yes, they were math teachers. (Don't get me wrong, I had other outstanding teachers, but these two ignited my interest in majoring in math and teaching math.) Their names were Dave Laudick and Ron Evans. In Mr. Laudick's classroom, math was fun because he was in love with what he was doing! You knew it the moment you walked into his classroom. The way he enthusiastically explained things at/on the chalkboard - the way he could correct/tease you when you made a mistake so that you still felt good about yourself, about being in his class, and about taking algebra - his laughter and smile while sharing concepts in class or wherever he was and whenever you encountered him - his personableness as he walked around class helping us while we were doing our homework - the way he made assignments to hear us groan - but most of all because of his obvious concern for us as students and people. I still absolutely enjoy doing algebra problems or utilizing its concepts in life and its because of the knowledge and love of algebra that Mr. Laudick affectionately and enthusiastically (yes, I know I already said that and the emphasis is intentional!) imparted in his classroom. Thank you, Dave! (There, I finally called him by his first name instead of Mr. or coach - I guess I didn't mention that he was also my reserve basketball coach.)
Finally, there was Mr. Evans - actually not just was, but also is. Ron Evans not only taught math courses at OG but also at ONU and as a result he has been one of the constants in my life as I have stayed connected to ONU as a trustee and a member of the Athletic Hall of Fame. We've often ended up at the same table at banquets and talked of our connections with OG and ONU. Oh, and his wife, Patsy, was one of my elementary school teachers, so we go way back as well. He was also my baseball coach my freshman year in high school and helped me see the light that my future was in track! (He mostly used me to steal bases!)
The thing is, while algebra was easy for me, geometry was not! Ron Evans was my high school geometry teacher. Again though, I encountered a teacher who enjoyed and knew his subject matter, was an athlete, and who made me want to learn. He taught me that there were worse things in life than not being challenged; giving up was not an option; and struggling to complete homework assignments was worth it - had its rewards which contributed to self-worth and self-confidence developing.
Before our junior or senior year in high school Ron Evans was hired by ONU to teach math courses and coach baseball. He was one of the reasons I went to ONU as a math major. He taught my first few math classes. He was my math advisor as well as my wife, Dorothy's. Did I mention that Dorothy and I were both math majors, met in Mr. Evans class, and became friends our freshman year? Well, we were and did. Oh, and as I was struggling through Calculus 3, it was Mr. Evans who helped me get through it and discussed with me my changing dreams/goals from a math major to a religion major and beginning to think about entering the ministry. Math and teaching math were important to Mr. Evans, but not as important as me and that has made all the difference in the world! He helped me choose one more math class so I could still do my student teaching and have enough courses to obtain my certification as a math teacher. You know, in case youth ministry really wasn't my cup of tea. Thank you, Ron!
So, who moved you enough in life to motivate you to choose the life paths you've tried?
Peace, friends!
Sorry for the amount of time that has passed since my last post, but getting the word out about the upcoming Walk to Defeat ALS (Sunday, September 29 at the Fred Beekman Park on the OSU campus) and the correspondence related to it has kept me fairly busy (not to mention a plethora of in the home appointments with nurses and therapists)! So many of you have become members of our Bill's Backers Walk team by signing up to walk and/or by your generous gifts that you've succeeded in adding to my daily routine the joy of composing and emailing heartfelt thank you notes. In case I've missed anyone, thank you all very much for your support and encouragement!
This is another post about some of the teachers that I have fond memories of and who influenced some of the choices I made in life. When I graduated from Ottawa-Glandorf High School in 1967 I had three personally assumed life/career goals that would surprise very few who knew me:
To be a math major at ONU so I could teach math in a high school.
To coach basketball.
To work with the youth in a local church.
While I ended up doing all three to some degree, the order/priority changed a bit by the middle of my sophomore year of college. In this post I want to reflect a bit about the interest in being a math major.
There's no question that my interest was first stimulated by my dad. He absolutely loved to work with numbers! Sometimes I thought he was in business by himself so that he could do his own books - be his own bookkeeper. I remember observing him in his office at the eggplant or at his desk in our home poring over slips of paper that represented notes about the number of dozens of eggs picked up from the chicken coops of area farmers; deliveries made to restaurants, grocery stores, and bakeries; hand-written time sheets of employees; and probably a few other things I'm forgetting right now.
And then he'd start computing - mostly in his head, but often rechecked with an early model adding machine. And if there was a discrepancy, he checked the work of the adding machine first assuming that he'd entered something wrong, rather than he made a math mistake in his head! But, it was his little shortcuts for adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing that most intrigued me! He knew so many interesting and intriguing things to do with numbers that I had to be interested in what he did and how he did it. I still use some of the things he taught me but I do so without thinking about it and sometimes I have difficulty explaining the how and the why.
That would never have worked in the classrooms of two of the most outstanding teachers I ever had! Yes, they were math teachers. (Don't get me wrong, I had other outstanding teachers, but these two ignited my interest in majoring in math and teaching math.) Their names were Dave Laudick and Ron Evans. In Mr. Laudick's classroom, math was fun because he was in love with what he was doing! You knew it the moment you walked into his classroom. The way he enthusiastically explained things at/on the chalkboard - the way he could correct/tease you when you made a mistake so that you still felt good about yourself, about being in his class, and about taking algebra - his laughter and smile while sharing concepts in class or wherever he was and whenever you encountered him - his personableness as he walked around class helping us while we were doing our homework - the way he made assignments to hear us groan - but most of all because of his obvious concern for us as students and people. I still absolutely enjoy doing algebra problems or utilizing its concepts in life and its because of the knowledge and love of algebra that Mr. Laudick affectionately and enthusiastically (yes, I know I already said that and the emphasis is intentional!) imparted in his classroom. Thank you, Dave! (There, I finally called him by his first name instead of Mr. or coach - I guess I didn't mention that he was also my reserve basketball coach.)
Finally, there was Mr. Evans - actually not just was, but also is. Ron Evans not only taught math courses at OG but also at ONU and as a result he has been one of the constants in my life as I have stayed connected to ONU as a trustee and a member of the Athletic Hall of Fame. We've often ended up at the same table at banquets and talked of our connections with OG and ONU. Oh, and his wife, Patsy, was one of my elementary school teachers, so we go way back as well. He was also my baseball coach my freshman year in high school and helped me see the light that my future was in track! (He mostly used me to steal bases!)
The thing is, while algebra was easy for me, geometry was not! Ron Evans was my high school geometry teacher. Again though, I encountered a teacher who enjoyed and knew his subject matter, was an athlete, and who made me want to learn. He taught me that there were worse things in life than not being challenged; giving up was not an option; and struggling to complete homework assignments was worth it - had its rewards which contributed to self-worth and self-confidence developing.
Before our junior or senior year in high school Ron Evans was hired by ONU to teach math courses and coach baseball. He was one of the reasons I went to ONU as a math major. He taught my first few math classes. He was my math advisor as well as my wife, Dorothy's. Did I mention that Dorothy and I were both math majors, met in Mr. Evans class, and became friends our freshman year? Well, we were and did. Oh, and as I was struggling through Calculus 3, it was Mr. Evans who helped me get through it and discussed with me my changing dreams/goals from a math major to a religion major and beginning to think about entering the ministry. Math and teaching math were important to Mr. Evans, but not as important as me and that has made all the difference in the world! He helped me choose one more math class so I could still do my student teaching and have enough courses to obtain my certification as a math teacher. You know, in case youth ministry really wasn't my cup of tea. Thank you, Ron!
So, who moved you enough in life to motivate you to choose the life paths you've tried?
Peace, friends!
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Sermon: "Some Thoughts"
"Some Thoughts"
II Timothy 1:1-14
"3 I thank God, whom I serve, as my ancestors did, with a clear conscience, as night and day I constantly remember you in my prayers. 4 Recalling your tears, I long to see you, so that I may be filled with joy. 5 I am reminded of your sincere faith."
(A sermon by this title was preached as my last sermon at Maple Grove before going on "incapacity leave" beginning October 1, 2010. In that sermon I shared some of my unfulfilled hopes and dreams for our ministry together. I'm going to delete those thoughts and share in this blog the comments I made regarding my diagnosis, God's role, and heaven and hell.)
Let me share a little humor to start, like I often did in sermons, albeit poorly at times according to some. There’s a section in one of my favorite newsletters, The Joyful Noiseletter, titled “Signs and Wonders.”
A sign outside the Presbyterian Church in Struthers, Ohio announced: “Honk if you love Jesus – Text while driving if you’d like to meet Him!” (1)
A Huxley, Iowa veterinary clinic had one in front of their establishment that read: “1000’s of years ago cats were worshipped as gods. Cats will never forget.” (2)
Freedom Baptist Church in St. Augustine, Florida included this phrase on their sign one week: “Now Open between Easter and Christmas.” (3)
An elderly woman went to a clinic to see her doctor. The old doctor was training a young doctor and referred the woman to the young doctor to see how he worked.
Within ten minutes the woman came out of the young doctor’s office screaming.
“What did you do? What did you say to her?” the old doctor asked.
“I told her she was pregnant,” the young doctor replied.
“You’re crazy!” the old doctor said. “She’s 68 years old, has five children, and 15 grandchildren.”
The young doctor replied with a satisfied grin, “Cured her hiccups.” (4)
One more? A pastor was playing golf with a parishioner. On the first hole, the pastor sliced the ball into the rough, and under his breath muttered “Hoover!”
On the second hole, the pastor’s ball went straight into a pond. “Hoover!” he again said, a bit louder this time.
On the third hole, the pastor’s drive landed on the green only a few inches from the hole. “Praise God!” he exclaimed. But his short putt missed the hole, and he exclaimed loudly again, “Hoover!”
Finally, his curious opponent asked the pastor why he said, “Hoover.”
The pastor replied, “It’s the biggest dam I know.” (5)
OK, enough. I'd like to share with you some attitudes/beliefs/concepts about the church – at least the churches where the Croys have been blessed to serve – Lima Grace: for just nine months at the end of our senior year at ONU - Miamisburg Parkview: for the final two years of seminary, Urbana for four years, Lima Trinity for seven years the first time, Linden Heights for four years, Worthington for four years, Lima Trinity again for another ten years, and finally here at Maple Grove for these last eight years. I loved every place I served. The church has been for me the biblical image of the Body of Christ in each of those settings. I leave the ministry of serving the local church as a paid minister without regret – without anger – without disappointment in the people of God. In every one of those places, people were Christ to me and in the communities. I have been privileged to serve among some really special folks!
The church is the physical body of Christ – the world only knows Christ when the church is the church – when we get together and worship with music and words and symbols, when we offer up food and clothing and stand up for the poor and disadvantaged in our communities and the world, when we cry with those who hurt and rejoice with those who know the joy of new life. In order for us to be all we can be - in order for the church to be all it can be - it's important, dare I say absolutely essential and necessary, that we spend time together. We need to share with one another our hopes and dreams and disappointments – our pasts, the realities of daily living, and our hopes and dreams for the future.
Now, I'm going to go a totally different direction with the rest of this blog. I want to say a few things regarding death and dying – about heaven and hell. First, my funeral or memorial service has not happened yet. I am not dead – only dying – and all of you are as well.
To be sure, I am not happy about my diagnosis. I don’t want to die. I’m not looking forward to death. I don’t want to disappoint anyone here this morning, but I am not one of those persons who can’t wait to die to go and be with God – to see my dad or my brother or my grandparents or to walk some gold covered streets. Oh, I know there may be a time closer to the end when I may want to die to end my pain or the discomfort of the process of dying, just as there have been those times when I’ve prayed for the release from this life for those who’ve been at that point on their journey. But, that's not where I am right now. I plan on continuing to get out of life what I can and continue to give of myself as much as possible.
Now, please understand, my not wanting to die has nothing to do with a concern about the afterlife - what happens to me after I die - nothing to do with what I believe about heaven and hell. It has everything to do with loving this life – having absolutely wonderful memories of times with my lovely wife of 40 years (in a few days, 43 years!), Dorothy, and wanting to enjoy more days with her – being so proud of my two children, Jeremy and Megan, not just because they are both doing what they enjoy in life vocationally – being a coach and being a minister – but because of the really wonderful people they are – because of wanting to spend more time with Jeremy’s wife, Meladie, and our three grandchildren, Evan, Corinne, and William – because of not wanting my mom to have to experience the pain of the loss of another adult child – because of the love of so many other members of my family and the churches we have served and the communities in which we’ve lived. We’ve been overwhelmed by the emails, the cards, the Facebook messages, the phone calls from childhood friends, high school teammates, college friends, high school teachers and college professors, and church people from every church we’ve served.
You see, I’m not worried about the afterlife because as far as I am concerned I’m already experiencing heaven. Heaven and hell are here and now realities, not places we go to when we die. Let me be as blunt as I can be, I don’t believe in a future hell. I don’t believe people go to a hell after they die. Hell is a here and now reality.
Now, I've held this view for a long time, but recently I came across a book by Keith Wright entitled The Hell Jesus Never Intended that helped me bring a little more focus to some of my ideas/thinking. In the forward of the book, David Jensen notes: "At the center of (Wright's) work is a rejection of hell as eternal punishment that awaits the unrighteous and a reclamation of Hell as a reality that we create for ourselves and others in the present. The Good News is not that we are saved from fires that loom in the future, but that God frees us for abundant life with each other, with creation, and with God's very self for all time. Jesus Christ doesn't save us from Hell, but saves us for God and each other." (6)
Hell exists all around us - I don't need to go into detail - you know the reality I am talking about. But, heaven exists all around us as well. And life involves this journey of wrestling with the realities of hell around us at the same time we're trying to create heaven for folks and ourselves wherever possible while dealing with all life throws our way. Friends, I am painfully aware of the reality of hell in this world of ours - around us all the time - but, I am also abundantly aware that I am living in heaven at the same time - that is, that I am already on the journey of eternal life - that God is with me.
Let me tell you why I chose to deal with this subject. I want you all to know that I do not believe that God chose for me to have ALS - some hells we don't choose and they aren't the result of us doing anything wrong - they just happen. ALS being a reality in my body is not the result of God punishing me for anything in my life - it's not a wake-up call telling me I should slow down or that there's something wrong with my spiritual life. Bad things happen to people - many people - for no good reason! I believe God is crying with me and with my family and with you and that is what comforts me. God is my comforter - the one who is walking with me through this.
And do you know how I will and am already experiencing God's comfort and why I am so confident in this belief that God is the comforter? It's because of you - because of the church - the resurrected Body of Christ - because of your witness throughout my life - the way I've observed you caring for others in pain - because of the way you've comforted those in pain - those who've wept - those in need - and the way you've included me in your prayers, emailed me messages, sent cards to me, hugged me, cried with me already. Thanks and may God continue to bless and comfort every one of you in the midst of the hells of your lives so that you may know heaven, abundant and eternal life, in this life!
1. The Joyful Noiseletter, August-September, 2010, p. 5.
2. Ibid.
3. The Joyful Noiseletter, October, 2009, p. 4.
4. Ibid., p. 2.
5. The Joyful Noiseletter, November, 2010, p. 2.
6. Keith Wright, The Hell Jesus Never Intended (Kelowna, BC, Canada, Northstone Publishing, 2004), p. 10.
II Timothy 1:1-14
"3 I thank God, whom I serve, as my ancestors did, with a clear conscience, as night and day I constantly remember you in my prayers. 4 Recalling your tears, I long to see you, so that I may be filled with joy. 5 I am reminded of your sincere faith."
(A sermon by this title was preached as my last sermon at Maple Grove before going on "incapacity leave" beginning October 1, 2010. In that sermon I shared some of my unfulfilled hopes and dreams for our ministry together. I'm going to delete those thoughts and share in this blog the comments I made regarding my diagnosis, God's role, and heaven and hell.)
Let me share a little humor to start, like I often did in sermons, albeit poorly at times according to some. There’s a section in one of my favorite newsletters, The Joyful Noiseletter, titled “Signs and Wonders.”
A sign outside the Presbyterian Church in Struthers, Ohio announced: “Honk if you love Jesus – Text while driving if you’d like to meet Him!” (1)
A Huxley, Iowa veterinary clinic had one in front of their establishment that read: “1000’s of years ago cats were worshipped as gods. Cats will never forget.” (2)
Freedom Baptist Church in St. Augustine, Florida included this phrase on their sign one week: “Now Open between Easter and Christmas.” (3)
An elderly woman went to a clinic to see her doctor. The old doctor was training a young doctor and referred the woman to the young doctor to see how he worked.
Within ten minutes the woman came out of the young doctor’s office screaming.
“What did you do? What did you say to her?” the old doctor asked.
“I told her she was pregnant,” the young doctor replied.
“You’re crazy!” the old doctor said. “She’s 68 years old, has five children, and 15 grandchildren.”
The young doctor replied with a satisfied grin, “Cured her hiccups.” (4)
One more? A pastor was playing golf with a parishioner. On the first hole, the pastor sliced the ball into the rough, and under his breath muttered “Hoover!”
On the second hole, the pastor’s ball went straight into a pond. “Hoover!” he again said, a bit louder this time.
On the third hole, the pastor’s drive landed on the green only a few inches from the hole. “Praise God!” he exclaimed. But his short putt missed the hole, and he exclaimed loudly again, “Hoover!”
Finally, his curious opponent asked the pastor why he said, “Hoover.”
The pastor replied, “It’s the biggest dam I know.” (5)
OK, enough. I'd like to share with you some attitudes/beliefs/concepts about the church – at least the churches where the Croys have been blessed to serve – Lima Grace: for just nine months at the end of our senior year at ONU - Miamisburg Parkview: for the final two years of seminary, Urbana for four years, Lima Trinity for seven years the first time, Linden Heights for four years, Worthington for four years, Lima Trinity again for another ten years, and finally here at Maple Grove for these last eight years. I loved every place I served. The church has been for me the biblical image of the Body of Christ in each of those settings. I leave the ministry of serving the local church as a paid minister without regret – without anger – without disappointment in the people of God. In every one of those places, people were Christ to me and in the communities. I have been privileged to serve among some really special folks!
The church is the physical body of Christ – the world only knows Christ when the church is the church – when we get together and worship with music and words and symbols, when we offer up food and clothing and stand up for the poor and disadvantaged in our communities and the world, when we cry with those who hurt and rejoice with those who know the joy of new life. In order for us to be all we can be - in order for the church to be all it can be - it's important, dare I say absolutely essential and necessary, that we spend time together. We need to share with one another our hopes and dreams and disappointments – our pasts, the realities of daily living, and our hopes and dreams for the future.
Now, I'm going to go a totally different direction with the rest of this blog. I want to say a few things regarding death and dying – about heaven and hell. First, my funeral or memorial service has not happened yet. I am not dead – only dying – and all of you are as well.
To be sure, I am not happy about my diagnosis. I don’t want to die. I’m not looking forward to death. I don’t want to disappoint anyone here this morning, but I am not one of those persons who can’t wait to die to go and be with God – to see my dad or my brother or my grandparents or to walk some gold covered streets. Oh, I know there may be a time closer to the end when I may want to die to end my pain or the discomfort of the process of dying, just as there have been those times when I’ve prayed for the release from this life for those who’ve been at that point on their journey. But, that's not where I am right now. I plan on continuing to get out of life what I can and continue to give of myself as much as possible.
Now, please understand, my not wanting to die has nothing to do with a concern about the afterlife - what happens to me after I die - nothing to do with what I believe about heaven and hell. It has everything to do with loving this life – having absolutely wonderful memories of times with my lovely wife of 40 years (in a few days, 43 years!), Dorothy, and wanting to enjoy more days with her – being so proud of my two children, Jeremy and Megan, not just because they are both doing what they enjoy in life vocationally – being a coach and being a minister – but because of the really wonderful people they are – because of wanting to spend more time with Jeremy’s wife, Meladie, and our three grandchildren, Evan, Corinne, and William – because of not wanting my mom to have to experience the pain of the loss of another adult child – because of the love of so many other members of my family and the churches we have served and the communities in which we’ve lived. We’ve been overwhelmed by the emails, the cards, the Facebook messages, the phone calls from childhood friends, high school teammates, college friends, high school teachers and college professors, and church people from every church we’ve served.
You see, I’m not worried about the afterlife because as far as I am concerned I’m already experiencing heaven. Heaven and hell are here and now realities, not places we go to when we die. Let me be as blunt as I can be, I don’t believe in a future hell. I don’t believe people go to a hell after they die. Hell is a here and now reality.
Now, I've held this view for a long time, but recently I came across a book by Keith Wright entitled The Hell Jesus Never Intended that helped me bring a little more focus to some of my ideas/thinking. In the forward of the book, David Jensen notes: "At the center of (Wright's) work is a rejection of hell as eternal punishment that awaits the unrighteous and a reclamation of Hell as a reality that we create for ourselves and others in the present. The Good News is not that we are saved from fires that loom in the future, but that God frees us for abundant life with each other, with creation, and with God's very self for all time. Jesus Christ doesn't save us from Hell, but saves us for God and each other." (6)
Hell exists all around us - I don't need to go into detail - you know the reality I am talking about. But, heaven exists all around us as well. And life involves this journey of wrestling with the realities of hell around us at the same time we're trying to create heaven for folks and ourselves wherever possible while dealing with all life throws our way. Friends, I am painfully aware of the reality of hell in this world of ours - around us all the time - but, I am also abundantly aware that I am living in heaven at the same time - that is, that I am already on the journey of eternal life - that God is with me.
Let me tell you why I chose to deal with this subject. I want you all to know that I do not believe that God chose for me to have ALS - some hells we don't choose and they aren't the result of us doing anything wrong - they just happen. ALS being a reality in my body is not the result of God punishing me for anything in my life - it's not a wake-up call telling me I should slow down or that there's something wrong with my spiritual life. Bad things happen to people - many people - for no good reason! I believe God is crying with me and with my family and with you and that is what comforts me. God is my comforter - the one who is walking with me through this.
And do you know how I will and am already experiencing God's comfort and why I am so confident in this belief that God is the comforter? It's because of you - because of the church - the resurrected Body of Christ - because of your witness throughout my life - the way I've observed you caring for others in pain - because of the way you've comforted those in pain - those who've wept - those in need - and the way you've included me in your prayers, emailed me messages, sent cards to me, hugged me, cried with me already. Thanks and may God continue to bless and comfort every one of you in the midst of the hells of your lives so that you may know heaven, abundant and eternal life, in this life!
1. The Joyful Noiseletter, August-September, 2010, p. 5.
2. Ibid.
3. The Joyful Noiseletter, October, 2009, p. 4.
4. Ibid., p. 2.
5. The Joyful Noiseletter, November, 2010, p. 2.
6. Keith Wright, The Hell Jesus Never Intended (Kelowna, BC, Canada, Northstone Publishing, 2004), p. 10.
Saturday, August 3, 2013
"Backyard Blacktop Basketball"
"Backyard Blacktop Basketball"
I don't remember how old I was when we moved into the West Main Street house closer to town. (We'd lived further to the west on the other side of the 224 bridge across the Blanchard river for several years before that.) It was sometime early in my elementary school years, I'm guessing. (I'm sure one of my sisters, Nancy or Phyllis, will fill in the necessary information when they read this.)
The house and building behind it were formerly occupied by the Jerry Ruhe family and business. For our first few years there a large, gangly willow tree occupied the majority of the backyard. It was a great tree in which to climb around. There were many choices of where you could go in it to settle for awhile. It was a comfortable tree in which to spread out your body. I spent many hours reading in the outstretched arms of that tree; but, I spent a great deal more time sitting or laying in its lounge chair-like comfort just thinking about athletics, family, religion, friends, school, girlfriends, community, and life in general (not necessarily in this order!). Oh, I tried to hide in it a time or two as well!
Well, sometime near the time I entered junior high school it was decided that the willow tree should come down and the area blacktopped for a basketball court. It may have had something to do with the black bugs that also enjoyed the tree; the risky and adventurous spirit that was my brother, Gary, and his breaking an arm in a fall from it; the death of our beloved dog, Cyndi, whose doghouse was sheltered by the big willow but who had worn the area around the tree into a mud-pit with her constant walking; or, it might have been because I really liked to play basketball and dad wanted me to hone my skills where he could, uh, er, shout words of encouragement or correction my way. (Now, let's not talk to the sisters about what their memories of the reason might be, OK?)
Anyway, basketball on our backyard blacktop basketball court became a popular activity. The guys who worked for dad often played a little HORSE during their breaks and lunch hours. But, it was also where many of us on the west-end hung-out. We played baseball - Home Run Derby - in Dan Ruhe's backyard and we played basketball in our backyard - HORSE, 3 on 3 - it was really too small for 5 on 5. That's just the way it was and what we did. First, it was mostly the neighborhood guys: Larry Rosenberger, Dan Ruhe, Bill Plummer, Tom Maidlow, Frank Warren, Charlie Hoepf, Larry Cox, and once in awhile we'd let the young guys, Jeff Huggins and my brother, Gary, play. And over time, Larry's brothers and cousins (Tommy, Willie, Charlie, David, Jack, John, Bruce, and Wayne Patrick), Gary Clossen, Jerry Agner, Mike Ellerbrock, Paul Quint, Jim Van Housen, Sam Stowe, "Big Dave", and "Horse", and on and on I could go (feel free to note your name if you choose to respond to this post if you were among those who frequented this blacktop space). (As we got older I remember going to play in a barn at Tom German's.) Notice the absence of the big guys - Dan Sager, Dave & Butch Ruhe - the court wasn't big enough to handle them. Dan could cross the whole thing with two steps!
While I was known to often go out to the court and shoot around by myself at night, there was this one night when Jerry Agner, Tom Maidlow and I met there after a high school dance. It was fairly late - late enough that we probably shouldn't have been bouncing a basketball on a blacktop in a residential neighborhood. But we were teens and we were just shooting a basketball and shooting the breeze talking about things that were bothering or concerning us - mostly laughing. (Yes, we had spotlights that lit up the court! They were mounted on the roof of the house.)
Who knows why my parents didn't stop us - maybe they were already asleep and they were so used to the sound of basketballs bouncing against blacktop that they didn't notice it - or, maybe they had told us that it was time to stop but we hadn't listened yet. At any rate, up drives this police car and out of the car comes the police officer - I wished I could remember who it was. As he approached the court, with a grin on his face, we stopped bouncing and shooting the ball and waited. By this time, we knew we should have stopped. I don't remember his exact words but they were something like: "Hi, boys! I know what you're doing is pretty innocent, but it is after midnight and some neighbors are having trouble sleeping. I think it's time to stop."
He left and we did stop. Bouncing basketballs on a backyard blacktop basketball court provided some good times and kept us out of trouble most of the time.
I don't remember how old I was when we moved into the West Main Street house closer to town. (We'd lived further to the west on the other side of the 224 bridge across the Blanchard river for several years before that.) It was sometime early in my elementary school years, I'm guessing. (I'm sure one of my sisters, Nancy or Phyllis, will fill in the necessary information when they read this.)
The house and building behind it were formerly occupied by the Jerry Ruhe family and business. For our first few years there a large, gangly willow tree occupied the majority of the backyard. It was a great tree in which to climb around. There were many choices of where you could go in it to settle for awhile. It was a comfortable tree in which to spread out your body. I spent many hours reading in the outstretched arms of that tree; but, I spent a great deal more time sitting or laying in its lounge chair-like comfort just thinking about athletics, family, religion, friends, school, girlfriends, community, and life in general (not necessarily in this order!). Oh, I tried to hide in it a time or two as well!
Well, sometime near the time I entered junior high school it was decided that the willow tree should come down and the area blacktopped for a basketball court. It may have had something to do with the black bugs that also enjoyed the tree; the risky and adventurous spirit that was my brother, Gary, and his breaking an arm in a fall from it; the death of our beloved dog, Cyndi, whose doghouse was sheltered by the big willow but who had worn the area around the tree into a mud-pit with her constant walking; or, it might have been because I really liked to play basketball and dad wanted me to hone my skills where he could, uh, er, shout words of encouragement or correction my way. (Now, let's not talk to the sisters about what their memories of the reason might be, OK?)
Anyway, basketball on our backyard blacktop basketball court became a popular activity. The guys who worked for dad often played a little HORSE during their breaks and lunch hours. But, it was also where many of us on the west-end hung-out. We played baseball - Home Run Derby - in Dan Ruhe's backyard and we played basketball in our backyard - HORSE, 3 on 3 - it was really too small for 5 on 5. That's just the way it was and what we did. First, it was mostly the neighborhood guys: Larry Rosenberger, Dan Ruhe, Bill Plummer, Tom Maidlow, Frank Warren, Charlie Hoepf, Larry Cox, and once in awhile we'd let the young guys, Jeff Huggins and my brother, Gary, play. And over time, Larry's brothers and cousins (Tommy, Willie, Charlie, David, Jack, John, Bruce, and Wayne Patrick), Gary Clossen, Jerry Agner, Mike Ellerbrock, Paul Quint, Jim Van Housen, Sam Stowe, "Big Dave", and "Horse", and on and on I could go (feel free to note your name if you choose to respond to this post if you were among those who frequented this blacktop space). (As we got older I remember going to play in a barn at Tom German's.) Notice the absence of the big guys - Dan Sager, Dave & Butch Ruhe - the court wasn't big enough to handle them. Dan could cross the whole thing with two steps!
While I was known to often go out to the court and shoot around by myself at night, there was this one night when Jerry Agner, Tom Maidlow and I met there after a high school dance. It was fairly late - late enough that we probably shouldn't have been bouncing a basketball on a blacktop in a residential neighborhood. But we were teens and we were just shooting a basketball and shooting the breeze talking about things that were bothering or concerning us - mostly laughing. (Yes, we had spotlights that lit up the court! They were mounted on the roof of the house.)
Who knows why my parents didn't stop us - maybe they were already asleep and they were so used to the sound of basketballs bouncing against blacktop that they didn't notice it - or, maybe they had told us that it was time to stop but we hadn't listened yet. At any rate, up drives this police car and out of the car comes the police officer - I wished I could remember who it was. As he approached the court, with a grin on his face, we stopped bouncing and shooting the ball and waited. By this time, we knew we should have stopped. I don't remember his exact words but they were something like: "Hi, boys! I know what you're doing is pretty innocent, but it is after midnight and some neighbors are having trouble sleeping. I think it's time to stop."
He left and we did stop. Bouncing basketballs on a backyard blacktop basketball court provided some good times and kept us out of trouble most of the time.
Friday, August 2, 2013
Sermon: "When Is Enough, Enough?"
"When Is Enough, Enough?"
Luke 12:13-21
I really used to like some of the bits George Carlin performed. Some people might have an issue with a pastor admitting that, but ... except for his reflections laced with words one wouldn't expect a preacher to use in a sermon, I found his humor insightful. he is one of my favorite comedians. One of my favorites was one he did on our possessions. In his book Brain Droppings he put it this way: “Stuff is important. You gotta take care of your stuff. You gotta have a place for your stuff. Everybody’s gotta have a place for their stuff. That’s what life is all about, tryin’ to find a place for your stuff! That’s all your house is: a place to keep your stuff. If you didn’t have so much stuff, you wouldn’t need a house. You could just walk around all the time. A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it. You can see that when you’re taking off in an airplane. You look down and see all the little piles of stuff. Everybody’s got his own little pile of stuff. And they lock it up! That’s right! When you leave your house, you gotta lock it up. Wouldn’t want somebody to come by and take some of your stuff. ‘Cause they always take … the good stuff; the shiny stuff; the electronic stuff. So when you get right down to it, your house is nothing more than a place to keep your stuff .. while you go out and get … more stuff. ‘Cause that’s what this country is all about. Trying to get more stuff. Stuff you don’t want, stuff you don’t need, stuff that’s poorly made, stuff that’s overpriced. Even stuff you can’t afford! Gotta keep on getting’ more stuff. Otherwise someone else might wind up with more stuff. Can’t let that happen. Gotta have the most stuff …1 (Of course, this is the cleaned up version and it's much funnier and longer when Carlin presents it. If you're interested, you can see his routine on YouTube - but don't tell anyone this preacher told you to do it!)
I'm guessing most of you are familiar with the restaurant chain Dave and Buster's - sort of an adult version of Chuck E. Cheese's - you know, a place where one plays a bunch of games to win some coupons to redeem for some "stuff" you don't really need or want. A few years ago we babysat our oldest grandson, Evan. Guess where he wanted to go? It wasn't Dave and Buster's! I played skeeball and I Evan chose some stickers with the coupons I won. I chose a couple of little noisemakers. Sometimes grandpas don't think. Do you know what it was like with Evan in the backseat with those noisemakers!
Today’s text challenges us to consider the relationship between our money, our stuff, and our living. It’s one of those tough passages because it pertains to our own reality. Of course, we don't understand that right away. Jesus starts out talking about a rich man and we of course rationalize that he's not talking about us. We're pretty good at making a case for us not being as rich as the man in Jesus’ story - a feeling of self-righteousness utilizes the space in our minds. Very few of us consider ourselves among “the rich” Jesus is speaking about in his story.
Something I've noticed over the years listening to and reading sermons is: preachers have a tendency to meddle - they thrive on hooking our guilt buttons with such passages. It doesn't take long for this text to make us squirm - at least. it makes me do so when I read it.
Let’s begin with a little background. Jesus was teaching a fairly large crowd when this young man called out: “Hey, Jesus! Tell my bro’ to divide the inheritance with me!” Now, Jewish law was pretty clear that the elder son received 2/3 of the inheritance upon the death of the dad while the young son received 1/3. Is there any question which son is asking for a reconsideration of the formula? Some of the saddest scenarios I have seen over the years have been the squabbling that often takes place between siblings when it comes time to divide up the estate after the death of parents. Jesus refused to weigh in on the matter.
However, he did seize the opportunity to offer a warning that goes deeper than the question of the proper way to distribute an inheritance. “Watch out,” he offered, “Be on your guard against greed – against the spirit which always wants more.” “Beware of all covetousness; for a person’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.”
Now, when Jesus said that, an audible gasp was assuredly heard. Like he so often did, Jesus then challenged one of the fundamental assumptions of that society – that a person’s life was measured by what they did or did not have. Many possessions was a sign that a person had pleased God. Few possessions was a sign that things weren’t right between a person and God.
This attitude developed because of the way many in that society chose to interpret a certain passage in Deuteronomy. It’s the one where the author proclaimed that God said: “I will make a covenant with you. If you obey my laws and live righteous lives, then I will give you this good land, and you will live in it and your descendants will live in it, and you will prosper. But if you disobey my law, and do not live righteous lives, and chase after other gods, then you will be punished, and your days in this land will be few.”
All the Old Testament prophets over and over again challenged this narrow and literal reading of the text by saying “that righteousness does not result in personal wealth; righteousness results in social justice. If a society is righteous, if the citizens of a society are righteous, the result of that will be a moral society, not necessarily personal wealth.”2
You see, this is not a passage for the rich alone. There is a message here for all of us – rich, poor, and those of us who like to put ourselves somewhere between the two. (Yeah, I know, bummer. I'm sorry.) Many of us have made the mistake of the younger brother – believing that having something else in our life would make a difference. “Oh, if only I had that car … if only I owned that house … if only, I had invested in that stock … if only we had those curtains … if only I had that suit, or that dress, or that jacket, or that pair of shoes, or …” If only, than I would be “freer to … more able to …” We need to hear Jesus’ counsel: it is our desire for the “stuff” that blocks us, kills us, strangles us, takes over our lives and thus causes us not to live the lives God intends for us.
Luke has Jesus make his position clearer with another one of his stories. This one is about a rich man who had it all, and more. He didn’t need to worry about being comfortable. It was obvious to all those gathered around Jesus that day that the leading character in the story was a righteous man – he had what he had because he was blessed by God – he was kindly regarded by God. He had to be righteous because even though he didn’t need, still more came his way.
But, he had a problem – all his barns were already full. Even his wagons were overflowing. He had nowhere else to put his grain. So, he thought to himself: “I think I’ll build some bigger or more barns – a bigger warehouse.”
One sermon I once read suggested that perhaps you and I might have a difficult time relating to the building bigger barns concept. He suggested that perhaps we might want to recall those times when we have lamented that the closets in our houses weren’t big enough. Think about the times you have simply desired more space to store more. Consider this – while the economy has not been the greatest the last few years, guess what investment area has done very well? Yep, mini-warehouses – storage facilities. “We have so much we have to rent somewhere to keep it! Many of us are drowning in a sea of stuff.”3
Now, this is not a passage against wealth. This is not a passage that is meant to say that it is not appropriate to save. The issue here is: our attitude toward what we have or don’t have. There is a fine line between saving and being controlled by the desire to save. John Wesley often counseled that we should save all we can while giving all we can. When he was a student at Oxford, he had an income of 30 pounds per year. He lived on 28 pounds and gave 2 pounds away. When his income increased to 60 pounds, 90 pounds, 120 pounds, he still lived on 28 pounds and gave the balance away. Any of the rest of you want to say “Ouch” with me?
Jesus wasn’t saying, “Don’t save.” Rather, “Don’t save to the neglect of the needs of those around you.” “Don’t be like the rich man, hoarding all that God gives to you, ignoring the needs of others and going about partying it away.” “Don’t build larger buildings when the surplus could help alleviate human suffering.”
Writing in about 400 A. D., St. Jerome mentioned in a letter a woman who “Preferred to store her money in the stomachs of the needy than in her purse.”
Tolstoy once wrote a story about a successful peasant farmer who was not satisfied. He wanted more of everything. Here’s how Tolstoy's story went: “One day a farmer received a novel offer. For 1000 rubles, he could buy all the land he could walk around in a day. The only catch in the deal was that he had to be back at his starting point by sundown. Early the next morning he started out walking at a fast pace. By midday he was very tired, but he kept going, covering more and more ground. Well into the afternoon he realized that his greed had taken him far from the starting point. He quickened his pace and as the sun began to sink low in the sky, he began to run, knowing that if he did not make it back by sundown the opportunity to become an even bigger landholder would be lost. As the sun began to sink below the horizon he came within sight of the finish line. Gasping for breath, his heart pounding, he called upon every bit of strength left in his body and staggered across the line just before the sun disappeared. He immediately collapsed, blood streaming from his mouth. In a few minutes he was dead. Afterwards, his servants dug a grave. It was not much over six feet long and three feet wide.”4
Tolstoy went on to suggest that all the man really owned – all any of us really own – is a 6 by 3 piece of earth, so we are better off putting our confidence elsewhere. Jesus' warning is similar – we need to be careful not to put our trust in the promise of materialism because we will be sadly disappointed in the end.
Let me close with a story about a father and his five-year-old son, Tyler, shopping in a large department store. “The father’s tone was harsh when he said, 'Not now, Tyler.' He was looking for something in the electronic aisle. The father was intent on finding whatever he was looking for. Tyler kept asking questions that a five-year-olds ask, ‘What are you looking for?’ ‘Can I help?’ His father kept dismissing him. It was obvious that the father was irritated and lacked patience. Back and forth the conversation went. Surprisingly, Tyler did not seem discouraged with his father’s curt responses.
“After the father paid and was about to leave the store, Tyler could be heard asking another question. Tyler wanted to do something with his father. To those observing this interchange it was not a revelation that the father once again dismissed this son, telling him that he didn’t have time to play a game. Tyler looked sad. Those standing in line at the cash register felt badly for the young boy. When they returned home, the five-year-old asked, ‘Can we play Clue?’”5
A few years ago, that’s when I stopped working on my sermon at McDonalds and went home to my wife, daughter, and grandson.
How many different electronic devises and gadgets do we need? What really is important? How up with the latest technology to keep in touch do we need? When is enough, enough?
Christ is calling us to develop a different set of priorities. He is calling us to remember that there is more to life than things, consumption, greed. He told of a first-century consumer who had so much stuff that he needed to build a larger barn, but who would not live to enjoy it. “And the things you have prepared,” Jesus asked, “whose will they be?” The wealthy person missed out on what was important. May we not make the same mistake.
Let me close with a prayer: O God, it’s so hard to hear that all that we have is really yours and we are really your caretakers. We’d like to think all that we have is ours because we performed the work that brought it to us. Help us, Lord, to hear your voice, to see the needs of those around us and to put our resources to work that your kingdom might come on earth and your name be praised. In Christ’s name, amen.
From George Carlin, Brain Droppings (Hyperion, 1997), pp. 36-37 as included in Emphasis, July/August, 2007, p. 45.
Mark Trotter, “A Fool and His Money,” Collected Sermons (ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., 2007), 0-000-000-350.
King Duncan, “Drowning In a Sea of Stuff,” Collected Sermons (Dynamic Preaching, 2005), 0-000-0000-20.
Leo Tolstoy, “How Much Land Does a Man Need?” (Adapted from Bits & Pieces, November, 1991), as used in Brett Blair and Staff’s sermon “Building Barns, Postponing Life,” Collected Sermons (ChristianGlobe Network, 2004), 0-0000-0000-1.
Emphasis, July/August, 2007, p. 45.
Luke 12:13-21
I really used to like some of the bits George Carlin performed. Some people might have an issue with a pastor admitting that, but ... except for his reflections laced with words one wouldn't expect a preacher to use in a sermon, I found his humor insightful. he is one of my favorite comedians. One of my favorites was one he did on our possessions. In his book Brain Droppings he put it this way: “Stuff is important. You gotta take care of your stuff. You gotta have a place for your stuff. Everybody’s gotta have a place for their stuff. That’s what life is all about, tryin’ to find a place for your stuff! That’s all your house is: a place to keep your stuff. If you didn’t have so much stuff, you wouldn’t need a house. You could just walk around all the time. A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it. You can see that when you’re taking off in an airplane. You look down and see all the little piles of stuff. Everybody’s got his own little pile of stuff. And they lock it up! That’s right! When you leave your house, you gotta lock it up. Wouldn’t want somebody to come by and take some of your stuff. ‘Cause they always take … the good stuff; the shiny stuff; the electronic stuff. So when you get right down to it, your house is nothing more than a place to keep your stuff .. while you go out and get … more stuff. ‘Cause that’s what this country is all about. Trying to get more stuff. Stuff you don’t want, stuff you don’t need, stuff that’s poorly made, stuff that’s overpriced. Even stuff you can’t afford! Gotta keep on getting’ more stuff. Otherwise someone else might wind up with more stuff. Can’t let that happen. Gotta have the most stuff …1 (Of course, this is the cleaned up version and it's much funnier and longer when Carlin presents it. If you're interested, you can see his routine on YouTube - but don't tell anyone this preacher told you to do it!)
I'm guessing most of you are familiar with the restaurant chain Dave and Buster's - sort of an adult version of Chuck E. Cheese's - you know, a place where one plays a bunch of games to win some coupons to redeem for some "stuff" you don't really need or want. A few years ago we babysat our oldest grandson, Evan. Guess where he wanted to go? It wasn't Dave and Buster's! I played skeeball and I Evan chose some stickers with the coupons I won. I chose a couple of little noisemakers. Sometimes grandpas don't think. Do you know what it was like with Evan in the backseat with those noisemakers!
Today’s text challenges us to consider the relationship between our money, our stuff, and our living. It’s one of those tough passages because it pertains to our own reality. Of course, we don't understand that right away. Jesus starts out talking about a rich man and we of course rationalize that he's not talking about us. We're pretty good at making a case for us not being as rich as the man in Jesus’ story - a feeling of self-righteousness utilizes the space in our minds. Very few of us consider ourselves among “the rich” Jesus is speaking about in his story.
Something I've noticed over the years listening to and reading sermons is: preachers have a tendency to meddle - they thrive on hooking our guilt buttons with such passages. It doesn't take long for this text to make us squirm - at least. it makes me do so when I read it.
Let’s begin with a little background. Jesus was teaching a fairly large crowd when this young man called out: “Hey, Jesus! Tell my bro’ to divide the inheritance with me!” Now, Jewish law was pretty clear that the elder son received 2/3 of the inheritance upon the death of the dad while the young son received 1/3. Is there any question which son is asking for a reconsideration of the formula? Some of the saddest scenarios I have seen over the years have been the squabbling that often takes place between siblings when it comes time to divide up the estate after the death of parents. Jesus refused to weigh in on the matter.
However, he did seize the opportunity to offer a warning that goes deeper than the question of the proper way to distribute an inheritance. “Watch out,” he offered, “Be on your guard against greed – against the spirit which always wants more.” “Beware of all covetousness; for a person’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.”
Now, when Jesus said that, an audible gasp was assuredly heard. Like he so often did, Jesus then challenged one of the fundamental assumptions of that society – that a person’s life was measured by what they did or did not have. Many possessions was a sign that a person had pleased God. Few possessions was a sign that things weren’t right between a person and God.
This attitude developed because of the way many in that society chose to interpret a certain passage in Deuteronomy. It’s the one where the author proclaimed that God said: “I will make a covenant with you. If you obey my laws and live righteous lives, then I will give you this good land, and you will live in it and your descendants will live in it, and you will prosper. But if you disobey my law, and do not live righteous lives, and chase after other gods, then you will be punished, and your days in this land will be few.”
All the Old Testament prophets over and over again challenged this narrow and literal reading of the text by saying “that righteousness does not result in personal wealth; righteousness results in social justice. If a society is righteous, if the citizens of a society are righteous, the result of that will be a moral society, not necessarily personal wealth.”2
You see, this is not a passage for the rich alone. There is a message here for all of us – rich, poor, and those of us who like to put ourselves somewhere between the two. (Yeah, I know, bummer. I'm sorry.) Many of us have made the mistake of the younger brother – believing that having something else in our life would make a difference. “Oh, if only I had that car … if only I owned that house … if only, I had invested in that stock … if only we had those curtains … if only I had that suit, or that dress, or that jacket, or that pair of shoes, or …” If only, than I would be “freer to … more able to …” We need to hear Jesus’ counsel: it is our desire for the “stuff” that blocks us, kills us, strangles us, takes over our lives and thus causes us not to live the lives God intends for us.
Luke has Jesus make his position clearer with another one of his stories. This one is about a rich man who had it all, and more. He didn’t need to worry about being comfortable. It was obvious to all those gathered around Jesus that day that the leading character in the story was a righteous man – he had what he had because he was blessed by God – he was kindly regarded by God. He had to be righteous because even though he didn’t need, still more came his way.
But, he had a problem – all his barns were already full. Even his wagons were overflowing. He had nowhere else to put his grain. So, he thought to himself: “I think I’ll build some bigger or more barns – a bigger warehouse.”
One sermon I once read suggested that perhaps you and I might have a difficult time relating to the building bigger barns concept. He suggested that perhaps we might want to recall those times when we have lamented that the closets in our houses weren’t big enough. Think about the times you have simply desired more space to store more. Consider this – while the economy has not been the greatest the last few years, guess what investment area has done very well? Yep, mini-warehouses – storage facilities. “We have so much we have to rent somewhere to keep it! Many of us are drowning in a sea of stuff.”3
Now, this is not a passage against wealth. This is not a passage that is meant to say that it is not appropriate to save. The issue here is: our attitude toward what we have or don’t have. There is a fine line between saving and being controlled by the desire to save. John Wesley often counseled that we should save all we can while giving all we can. When he was a student at Oxford, he had an income of 30 pounds per year. He lived on 28 pounds and gave 2 pounds away. When his income increased to 60 pounds, 90 pounds, 120 pounds, he still lived on 28 pounds and gave the balance away. Any of the rest of you want to say “Ouch” with me?
Jesus wasn’t saying, “Don’t save.” Rather, “Don’t save to the neglect of the needs of those around you.” “Don’t be like the rich man, hoarding all that God gives to you, ignoring the needs of others and going about partying it away.” “Don’t build larger buildings when the surplus could help alleviate human suffering.”
Writing in about 400 A. D., St. Jerome mentioned in a letter a woman who “Preferred to store her money in the stomachs of the needy than in her purse.”
Tolstoy once wrote a story about a successful peasant farmer who was not satisfied. He wanted more of everything. Here’s how Tolstoy's story went: “One day a farmer received a novel offer. For 1000 rubles, he could buy all the land he could walk around in a day. The only catch in the deal was that he had to be back at his starting point by sundown. Early the next morning he started out walking at a fast pace. By midday he was very tired, but he kept going, covering more and more ground. Well into the afternoon he realized that his greed had taken him far from the starting point. He quickened his pace and as the sun began to sink low in the sky, he began to run, knowing that if he did not make it back by sundown the opportunity to become an even bigger landholder would be lost. As the sun began to sink below the horizon he came within sight of the finish line. Gasping for breath, his heart pounding, he called upon every bit of strength left in his body and staggered across the line just before the sun disappeared. He immediately collapsed, blood streaming from his mouth. In a few minutes he was dead. Afterwards, his servants dug a grave. It was not much over six feet long and three feet wide.”4
Tolstoy went on to suggest that all the man really owned – all any of us really own – is a 6 by 3 piece of earth, so we are better off putting our confidence elsewhere. Jesus' warning is similar – we need to be careful not to put our trust in the promise of materialism because we will be sadly disappointed in the end.
Let me close with a story about a father and his five-year-old son, Tyler, shopping in a large department store. “The father’s tone was harsh when he said, 'Not now, Tyler.' He was looking for something in the electronic aisle. The father was intent on finding whatever he was looking for. Tyler kept asking questions that a five-year-olds ask, ‘What are you looking for?’ ‘Can I help?’ His father kept dismissing him. It was obvious that the father was irritated and lacked patience. Back and forth the conversation went. Surprisingly, Tyler did not seem discouraged with his father’s curt responses.
“After the father paid and was about to leave the store, Tyler could be heard asking another question. Tyler wanted to do something with his father. To those observing this interchange it was not a revelation that the father once again dismissed this son, telling him that he didn’t have time to play a game. Tyler looked sad. Those standing in line at the cash register felt badly for the young boy. When they returned home, the five-year-old asked, ‘Can we play Clue?’”5
A few years ago, that’s when I stopped working on my sermon at McDonalds and went home to my wife, daughter, and grandson.
How many different electronic devises and gadgets do we need? What really is important? How up with the latest technology to keep in touch do we need? When is enough, enough?
Christ is calling us to develop a different set of priorities. He is calling us to remember that there is more to life than things, consumption, greed. He told of a first-century consumer who had so much stuff that he needed to build a larger barn, but who would not live to enjoy it. “And the things you have prepared,” Jesus asked, “whose will they be?” The wealthy person missed out on what was important. May we not make the same mistake.
Let me close with a prayer: O God, it’s so hard to hear that all that we have is really yours and we are really your caretakers. We’d like to think all that we have is ours because we performed the work that brought it to us. Help us, Lord, to hear your voice, to see the needs of those around us and to put our resources to work that your kingdom might come on earth and your name be praised. In Christ’s name, amen.
From George Carlin, Brain Droppings (Hyperion, 1997), pp. 36-37 as included in Emphasis, July/August, 2007, p. 45.
Mark Trotter, “A Fool and His Money,” Collected Sermons (ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., 2007), 0-000-000-350.
King Duncan, “Drowning In a Sea of Stuff,” Collected Sermons (Dynamic Preaching, 2005), 0-000-0000-20.
Leo Tolstoy, “How Much Land Does a Man Need?” (Adapted from Bits & Pieces, November, 1991), as used in Brett Blair and Staff’s sermon “Building Barns, Postponing Life,” Collected Sermons (ChristianGlobe Network, 2004), 0-0000-0000-1.
Emphasis, July/August, 2007, p. 45.
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