Troubling Thoughts

I’ve been thinking about Jesus lately.  Not a bad thing for a preacher to be thinking about, right?  I’ve also been thinking about what it means for a person of our time to be a follower of Jesus.  Also, not a bad thing for a preacher to be thinking about, right?

Well, I’m not real pleased with where my thoughts have led me.  Thinking about Jesus and what it means to be his follower, at the same time, has not left me feeling so kindly toward Jesus or myself.  Jesus wants us to love our enemies, bless those who curse us, share our stuff and ourselves with others, forgive others, be a blessing to others, turn the other cheek, and . . . well, he just never quits. 

Were Jesus and his chroniclers around today, his teachings and expectations would surely be different—different as in more fitting to our time.  Surely, the things he said to a poor people in ancient Palestine have nothing really to say to us.  He would understand that without the things we have today, we just can’t make it . . . and not even Jesus could love some of the people with whom we have to deal.

Surely those extremely liberal scholars are right and not all this stuff in the Gospels really comes from Jesus.  Jesus, who loves me and saves me and wants the best for me, really wouldn’t expect me to sacrifice.  After all, he has already paid the price, made the ultimate sacrifice.  I’ve been bought with a price and the rest of life is free.  Hallelujah and Amen!

Listen up.  Do not read Matthew 5-7.  It will mess with your mind.  There is just no way that Jesus could or would have said all that is written in those chapters.  Matthew must have been writing an April Fool’s gospel.

On the other hand, if Jesus really said what Matthew said he said, we “got trouble, my friends, right here, I say trouble, right here in river city.”  When there is trouble, there are a couple of options.  One can take actions to end the trouble, or one can get rid of the troublemaker. The latter is easier. 

Oh, I’m not ready to get rid of Jesus.  I need a savior.  Let’s just do some helpful editing of Matthew’s Gospel—cut out and burn chapters 5-7.  It’s the only sane thing to do.

Final Exam . . . Oh No!

It happened again this past Saturday night. I thought I was past this. It had been a long, long time since it had happened.  I dreamed I was in school and suddenly faced with a final exam in a class I had forgotten that I had.

There were three essay questions.  From the questions, it was obvious this was an American history class.  In my college days, that was the course that was used to weed out those who “didn’t belong in college.”  I can still remember my horror when we covered the entire War Between the States and Reconstruction in the last five minutes of the last class period before the final exam.  The professor, smiled as he said, “This material will be on the final.”  All of this took place in the fall of 1967.

In real life, I was saved by another history class and teacher.  Mr. Deweese, my high school American history teacher, thought he had a responsibility to cover all the course material in the time allotted.  So, we had actually studied the War Between the States, and I had written a paper on the “Reconstruction of the South.”  I passed that college history class because someone else had provided the means for doing so.

In my dream last night, I finally woke up.  It was too early, and I thought about going back to sleep. I can do that.  I chose not to do so because I can also reenter dreams from which I have momentarily awaken.  This was not a dream I wanted to revisit.  So, I got up, had my morning coffee, and said a silent, “Thank you, Mr. Deweese.”

Many of us come to look at life, particularly our lives in relationship to God, in the same manner we look at school.  We see God as the exam-giver, and we keep hoping that by some means we will score high enough to squeeze by with a passing grade.  Perhaps life is a bit like school; but if it is, it is school with a teacher like Mr. Deweese but more so.  Mr. Deweese was not a dynamic teacher, but he was a good teacher.  He was with us each day, and he cared about us, actually wanting us to get what he was teaching us. While he took pride in those students who excelled, he never shied from walking alongside those who were struggling, whose life situations made learning hard.

It dawned on me this morning, that the “Christmas story,” as told in the Gospel of John, is the story of the Teacher who has come to make sure we pass the final exam.  In Christ, we have all we need: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory. . . .  It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.”

This Teacher who has come from God is our hope.  “But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God.”

Should I dream of having to take God's final, I will not fear.  The Teacher, who has come to dwell among us, and I are mastering the course of Life.

Go Gentle into the Night

During my early school years, there were a couple of famous speeches that stuck with me.  In fact, in reading those speeches, I could imagine that I was the speechmaker.  With courage beyond my years, I could exclaim:

Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery?  Forbid it, Almighty God!  I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

 Patrick Henry’s words, spoken on March 23, 1775, were bold words.  As a child, I thrilled to say them and to imagine that I possessed such courage.  As an adult, I came to realize that to say such words was to risk death.  Such a realization causes one to pause and ponder.

 As a young teen, committed to following Jesus wherever He led, I could imagine myself at the end of a long, successful life saying:

 

As for me, I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come.  I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have longed for his appearing.  (Paul – II Timothy 4:6-8 NRSV)

 
I am now about the age Paul was when he wrote those words to Timothy; and I am not ready to depart.  My fight has not always been the best . . . the race is not over . . . and I still have faith to keep.  I’m not ready to die.

I am not ready to die, but I am aware that death will come.  Because of such awareness, I want to live so that when death comes I may die well.  By dying well, I’m not talking about the so-called “good death.”  I’m talking about being at peace with my life at its ending and at peace with the God who has accompanied me for the whole of the journey.

If I can come to that point at peace with myself and my God, I can defy Dylan Thomas and go gentle into that good night.

Bullying Begins at Home

Parents and other concerned adults worry a lot about the things, ideas, and behaviors to which children are exposed.  Parents worry about what their children are hearing and seeing when they are not around to protect and monitor them.

Our children learn to be who they are becoming from a variety of sources—people with whom they associate, places they go, movies they see, sites they visit on the internet, teachers and coaches who guide them, etc.  All of this can’t be controlled 24/7.  What’s a parent to do? 

While not a parent, I am an adult who is concerned about our children.  I see children with good parents from good homes end up in a world of trouble, and I’ve seen children raised in the worst of situations evolve into wonderful, responsible adults.  I know that good parents can have a child that goes in the wrong direction.  What can we do?

If we want our children, our biological ones and those for whom we share responsibility, to grow up to be wonderful, responsible adults, we need to watch what we say and do.  In other words, we need to practice what we what them to learn and copy.  We talk a lot about peer influence. It is not unimportant, but parental influence tops peer influence more often than not.

In recent years, we’ve become much more aware of the problem of bullying in our schools.  Schools and parents across the country are searching for better ways of preventing, identifying, and addressing the problem.  While this is appropriate and necessary, I wonder if we’ve failed to explore where our children learn to bully each other.  I fear it is in our homes.

Young children catch on quickly.  They observe one parent bullying the other.  They watch the same TV programs their parents watch.  They hear their parents talk about other people—too often in demeaning ways, which is a first step toward bullying.  I suppose what I’m trying to say is that adult bullying becomes the pattern for the bullying that goes on among our children.

Here is something else I’ve observed.  Children who grow up in homes where respect for others is practiced and preached are more likely to grow up respecting others.  The problem with practicing what we preach is that we must be consistent.  Children are quick to catch on.  Daddy is nice to Mommy and the neighbor to the right, but he talks really bad about the neighbor who lives on the left.  Mommy is so sweet when she meets Mrs. Smith at the store, but you ought to hear her on the telephone talking to her best friend about “old Mrs. Smith.”

Politics is one area of our lives that may be a real breeding ground for bullying and other inappropriate behavior.  Adults often say things about the mayor, the governor, and/or the president that they would never say about others.  Search for political cartoons about presidents and you will discover some of the most vindictive and bullying statements around.  What are we teaching our children when we publicly degrade our elected officials?  What might our actions say to our children if we were to follow the guidelines in I Timothy 2?  That is the focus of the sermon—how we are to respond to leaders and everyone else.  If we want our children to respect authority, perhaps we should invite them to join us in praying for the mayor, the governor, and the president—and perhaps for the pastor. 

Dad's Prophecy

Faithful Readers,

Many years ago, my dad said something to me that sounded preposterous.  “It won’t happen in my lifetime,” he said, “but in yours the kind of violence we’re seeing in poor countries will be happening here.”  He said he believed this because we were a country in which the rich were getting richer and the poor were getting poorer.  “The day will come when those who have been disenfranchised will take to the streets,” he added.

While none of us are rich by the standards of the truly rich, most of us are rich when compared to the very poor; and we are very rich compared to the poor of the world.  We have more than adequate food and shelter, and we have access to the medical care we need.  Comfortable in our sufficiency, it is easy to see the poor around us and declare them to be poor because they are lazy.  “Why,” we declare, “if they would get off their backsides and get jobs they could have a decent living.”

We’re still buying the “American dream”—that any poor person can rise to riches if he/she is just willing to work.  The “dream” is still believable because occasionally there is a poor person who does rise to riches.  Most sink into deeper poverty.

I recently sat in a neatly kept home of a very poor person. The person is disabled. Oh, this person could do some types of work, but because of the disability, he can’t do anything that requires him to stand or be mobile.  If work were available, he would be unable to take it.  He has no means of transportation.  If he could qualify for a job, it would be a minimum wage job with no benefits.  While he only draws $710.00 a month plus $200 in food stamps, he does have a medical card.  Of course, he seldom uses the card because he has no ready means of getting to and from his doctor’s office; and if medicines are prescribed, he never has enough money to cover the full costs.

Our government spends billions on wars in other places, depleting our national resources while increasing our national debt. In the process, we create more enemies than friends.  What if war-money were spent on health and human needs for people of the poorer nations of the world?

Here in Kentucky, we spend millions of dollars to purchase and maintain pristine forest lands while destroying other lands and displacing people to obtain fuel.  I not a simpleton.  I know there are no easy answers as to how to meet the needs of society and protect both people and environment; but there is still something wrong about this.

I raise these issues only because they contribute to the growing distance between the rich and the poor in our own society.  I raise these issues because I fear that we’ve forgotten that God loves all people and that God expects all people to work for the good of each other and to care for creation.  I raise these issues because God has never looked with favor on the rich who exploit the poor or on those who neglect God’s expectations.

God’s judgments never come falling upon us from above.  They arise from the chaos we create.  It was so in Jeremiah’s, and it is so in our day.

I pray my dad’s prophecy will be proven to have been wrong; but I fear that unless we hear the call of God as spoken by Jeremiah (4:1-2), it may be dead right.

Communion

Sunday was Communion Day for us.  I must not be a good Baptist.  I would enjoy Communion each Sunday.  Since we only celebrate Communion six times per year in our church, we try to make those services special. 

It occurs to me that through the gift of our minds and imagination, Communion can be a daily experience.  Close your eyes and come to the Table through your imagination and memory.
 

See the Table before you.

            Smell the Bread and the Juice/Wine.
                        See the hands that serve you.
                                    Feel the texture of the Bread you hold.
                                                Feel the temperature of the glass you hold.
                                    Take and eat the Bread . . . His body.
                      Take and drink the Cup . . . His blood.
            See the people around you . . . sisters and brothers all.

Do all this In Remembrance

            In remembrance of what He did.
                        Of who He was and is.
            Of who you are in Him.
In Remembrance, that we may live today toward tomorrow.

At His Table and from the bounty of His Grace, we leave the Table and move into our world to be, amazingly, His Body.

What other miracle do we need than the one of us becoming His Body?

 

 

The Price of Peace

Sometimes we make too much of the peace that comes from following Jesus.  At the very least, too many promises of easy peace have been made from pulpits. 

Too many troubled souls have walked down the church aisle or the old sawdust trail of the tent revivalist declaring their faith and reaching out to claim the Prince of Peace, only to discover that trouble still abounded. 

Like many of you, I regularly pray for peace—peace in my own heart and mind, peace in my family, peace in my church, and peace in our world.  I pray because Jesus taught us to do so. I pray because I know that making peace is beyond my limited ability.  While I can live in such a manner that my living makes peace more possible, I cannot bring peace to others, and often not to my own life.  I pray because I believe that apart from God peace is impossible.

Yet it seems that even with God peace remains beyond our grasp.  While we proclaim the end of wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, war rages on—there and many other places.  Daily we hear the news of another troubled soul who has taken his/her life.  Families quarrel and fall apart.  Peace officers are ambushed and killed, as was the case in nearby Bardstown early Saturday morning when a young officer was gunned down on his way home from work.

Into this trouble, peace-free world, the word of the Apostle Paul enters.  In Romans 8:1-11, Paul contrasts the law of the spirit with the law of sin and death.  The one promises life.  The other death.  One leads to a peace that cannot be found in the other.  But Romans 8:1-11 can’t be understood apart from what Paul wrote earlier and what Paul lived.  In Romans 5, he stated that “we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.”  From Paul’s writings and his life and from our own experience, we begin to understand that “peace” is something other than the absence of conflict and trouble.  “Peace with God” speaks not of a trouble-free world but of being peaceable in the midst of a troubled world.

We should pray and work for peace in our communities and wider world, but doing so first requires that we be at peace.  How can we be at peace with ourselves if we are not at peace with God?  How does peace with God come?  On the one hand, it is a gift through Jesus Christ our Lord.  On the other hand, it is the result of living in the spirit—living in relationship with Jesus.

Thus a text about law and grace becomes a key source for understanding how to be at peace—at peace with God, with ourselves, and with our times.  “If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you” (Romans 8:11, NRSV).

There is a peace that sustains us even in troubled times, but it comes at the price of a relationship with God through Jesus Christ.  The more we live and walk that relationship the more peace will abound even in the midst of turmoil and struggle.