Forecast or Report

In a neighboring town, I recently saw this message posted on a church sign:

Weather forecast:

God reigns

and the Son shines.

Immediately upon seeing it, I felt there was something wrong the message.  Do you see anything amiss?  At first, I couldn't figure out what bothered me about the message.  After all, the intent of the message seemed clear enough, but something about it didn't feel right.

Later that same day, I figured it out.  The message heading is wrong.  The message is not a weather "forecast."  It's a weather report.  God does reign and the Son does shine.  If Jesus is to be believed, the kingdom of God, the reign of God, is not something for which we have to wait.  Check out the following references from the Gospels: Matthew 12:28, Luke 6:20, 9:27, 17:21.  They each speak of the kingdom as something present.  Yes, there are other verses that speak of the kingdom as being in the future or as being near.  Yet, whatever else we may make of Jesus' presence in this world, surely we see in it the arrival of the kingdom. 

The fullness of the kingdom, like the completion of our salvation, is in the future; but our hope in Jesus is not a future hope only. It is a sure and present hope.  I am saved.  Am I fully redeemed?  No, God is continually about the work of redeeming me, for which I give deep thanksgiving; but I am redeemed even as I am being redeemed more fully day by day.  So it is with the kingdom.  It has arrived even as it is yet to come in fulness.

As we live our lives in a world marked by sin (our own and that of others), our hope rests in a kingdom already ushered into existence.  Depending on one's perspective, Jesus is the sign of the kingdom's presence or he is the bold reminder that from the beginning the kingdom has existed.

God reigns and the Son is the Shining Light who daily reminds us of the truth.

Baptism and Grace

Worship this past Sunday included the baptism of three young people ranging in age from nine to eighteen.  Although they shared having been at a church-sponsored retreat this summer, their paths to faith were as individual as they are.  I never cease to marvel at how God' grace reaches out to us.

The baptism of these three led to my thinking about baptism.  Over the years of my ministry, there have been some particularly moving baptisms but none more moving than my baptism of Sarah, an eight year-old who I was sure had no knowledge of what was happening.

Sarah, who was born with severe physical and mental handicaps, was mentally no older than a two year-old.  She cried most of her waking hours.  Her grandparents, who had taken over her care, lived in our community.  They called this Baptist preacher to baptize their granddaughter “because doctors tell us she only has a few weeks to live and we don’t want her dying without being baptized.”  I thought of all the reasons why I couldn’t and why it wasn’t necessary; and then I agreed to do it.  In fact, I was ready to do it right then; but the grandparents asked me to come back two days later. 

On the day of Sarah’s baptism, I arrived at the family’s home and found Sarah wearing a lovely new white dress.  Her grandfather was sitting in a chair, holding her as she squirmed and cried.  Beside them on a side table was a small silver bowl that her grandmother had filled with water.  We read the story of Jesus’ baptism and the story of the disciples trying to keep children from bothering Jesus.  Then I dipped my fingers in the bowl and made the sign of the cross on Sarah’s forehead.  “In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, I baptize you Sarah.  You are a beloved daughter of God.” As I finished, Sarah’s crying stopped.  She lay quietly against her grandfather’s shoulder and smiled. 

Sarah died about two months later.  At her funeral, her grandparents told me, “Sarah was so much calmer, hardly crying at all, after you baptized her.” 

And to think, I had thought she had no knowledge of what was happening! 

Baptism is not about water or who baptizes or how they do it.  It's about grace--God's grace--flowing to us.

Computer Grace

When it comes to computers, I am not illiterate; neither am I an expert.  Like many of you, I've had more than my share of frustration with computers. For the past week, as if three funerals from our church and community were not enough extra, I have also been having some major computer issues.

Two experts and seven days later, nearing midnight, I'm back in business.  A virus got past my security program.  By late afternoon I had a virus-free computer back in my possession.  Of course, there were programs to reinstall.  I manged it--all of them.  Even managed to keep my email contacts from Windows Live; however, I lost all the saved emails . . . some of which were waiting for responses from me.  Oh, well, at least I have the contacts.

The amazing thing is that I've managed all of this and maintained my cool.  Okay, there were some moments of frustration, but there was no losing of cool.  Maybe having 14 church-related deaths since July 1 has put a few things in perspective.  What's a few lost files and emails compared to the loss of a mother, father, son, daughter, brother, sister, wife, husband, grandparent, grandchild, or best friend?  Nothing at all!

So I'm smiling tonight and working from a computer that is almost back to where it was and realizing how fortunate I am to be alive.

Oh, and its raining . . . water is dropping from the sky . . . we have a flood warning out.  It's the first sustained rain we've had in over a month.

750 Miles for a Peach

How for would you go to get the best peach available? 

As best as I can remember, I was in college before I heard about Georgia peaches.  The word was that if you wanted to taste a really good peach, you needed fresh peaches from Georgia.  I was determined to have a Georgia peach.  When some years later, I finally got the opportunity, I was disappointed.  It wasn't a bad peach; it just wasn't a great peach.  Why, I thought, I had tasted better peaches back home.

I just got back from a 750-mile round trip to secure the best peaches to be found anywhere!  I did not go to Georgia.  I drove to the southeast corner of Missouri (The Bootheel) to an orchard near Campbell, Missouri--about 17 miles from where I grew up.  Was it worth 13 hours on the road and a hundred dollars in gasoline?  Let me answer in this way.  I will be doing it again next summer.

I thought back to those years long ago when I heard about the peaches down in Georgia.  I couldn't wait to get some; yet, all along, the best peaches were right there in my backyard--well, almost.  How often have we yearned for what was just beyond the horizon or just over the hill when the best was all around us?

Biting into that first peach of the season, having my tastebuds come awake, and feeling the juice run from the corners of my mouth into my beard . . . Ah, it is a call to thanksgiving.  What would the world be like had God not created peaches?

By the way, there was once a peach in Tennessee.  I married her and that, too, is a call to thanksgiving.

In threes?

Around where I live, and most likely around where you live, they say that it comes in threes.  It does, you know.  Trust me.  When the first one comes, count one . . . when the second comes, count two . . . and when the third one comes, count three.  Above all else, once you've counted three, START OVER.

They say it about a lot of things, but most of the time they mean deaths and funerals.  They were right this week.  Monday brought news of two deaths related to our church and Tuesday brought news of the third.  In spite of having heard them for a long time and having officiated at more funerals than I can recall, I'm not so sure about the cycle of three . . . well, not unless one follows the rule above.

What I am sure of is what a church member told me a few weeks ago, "I won't get out of this alive."  He was talking about his long struggle with cancer.  Three deaths this week, plus a visit to my 88 year-old mother-in-law, and a long afternoon at the hospital with another church member and friend who is losing her battle with cancer has led me to think about life.

We put too much stock in the big stuff--successful careers, big paychecks, the awards for outstanding whatever, the expensive vacations, the designer clothes, the right school . . . you get the picture.  These things are not all bad, and some are good.  I like having a successful career; and I like having made enough money to supply all my needs, more of my wants than warranted, and to have been able to share with others.  It's nice having these things.

It's nicer knowing that my wife of almost 42 years is downstairs where I will join her in a few minutes.  It's nicer knowing that my friend and church member whose hand I held this afternoon drew comfort from my presence, not my words.  It's nicer knowing that on a very hot day and night, the overhead fan is creating a gentle breeze that is cooling my sweating body.  It's nicer knowing that when it's my turn to be counted among the three, there will be a few who will weep momentarily and rejoice that we've shared the journey.

I do like stuff; but most of all I like being part of a community, particularly my community of faith, where the important stuff is as near eternal as it can get this side of the divide.

Looking Inward

It is sometimes so easy to forget that long before we were there were others--others who found the Other and spent a lifetime seeking to become One with the Other they found.  I was reminded of that this evening as I read a selection from Scott Cairns' Love's Immensity: Mystics on the Endless Life.

I invite you to do as I have been doing for the past hour . . . pray . . . meditate . . . move toward the Other.

O Lord and Master of my life,

remove from me this languid spirit,

this grim demeanor, this petty

lust for power, and all this empty talk.

Endow thy servant, instead,

with a chaste spirit, humble

heart, longsuffering gentleness,

and genuine, unselfish love.

Yes, O Lord and King, grant

that I may confront my own offenses,

and remember not to judge my brother.

For You are--always and forever--blessed.

The NASCAR Bible Lesson

Just a few miles up I-71 from where I live is the Kentucky Speedway, where last weekend there were big happenings--three races, including a cup race on Saturday night.  As one might expect, there was a lot of hype and publicity.  The owner of the track bragged that the cup race would outpace the Kentucky Derby.  If he was thinking in terms of chaos and traffic jam, he was 100% correct.

On Saturday prior to race time, traffic was backed up for miles north and south on I-71.  The problem?  Well, one problem was that the race track has only two gates by which fans can enter.  When many of the 107,000 fans tried to arrive mid-afternoon, the gates were too narrow.  Some fans never got inside; some turned away after sitting in traffic for two or more hours; and some got inside the gate but couldn't find a place to park. 

The fans caught in the jam were not happy, and they spread the blame around.  Some blamed the track; others the Kentucky Department of Transportation; and some the Kentucky State Police who were somehow expected to solve the traffic flow problem.  The radio talk shows and the TV news provided lots of coverage and plenty of fodder for the unrest.  Not everyone was unhappy.  One fan who called in to a local radio call-in show expressed an interesting idea.  He blamed the fans.  "They all waited until the last minute to try to get into the track."  He then told that he and his family had left around 8:00 a.m., arrived at the track and enjoyed a picnic lunch, and then found their seats in the arena.  "No problem," he stated, "if you plan ahead."

Plan ahead?  Jesus had something to say about that.  Remember the wedding that included ten bridesmaids, five wise and five foolish (Matthew 25:1-13).  The wise took oil and lamps, while the foolish took only their lamps.  Although the arrival of the bridegroom was delayed, the foolish did not use wisely their time.  When news came announcing the bridegroom’s arrival, five maids were ready.  The other five scurried about, begging oil from the wise.  The wise were, and they protected their supply.  At the midnight hour, the foolish rushed out to buy oil, which they found; but when they returned the door to the wedding feast was shut. 

The NASCAR Bible lesson: Plan ahead.