The Mystery of Communion

We were as silent as mice as we hid behind the trees on the west side of the church parking lot.  The early dark of the evening aided us in hiding.  We four boys were on a mission of discovery.  Any minute we knew we would see them.  One of our number had seen them go over.  It was only a matter of time before they came back.  They never stayed all that long, and they always came back.

Moments later we heard the sound of a screen door opening and then the muffled sound of the men’s voices.  “Wait!  Don’t forget this.”  Was that a woman’s voice we heard?  Walking slowly, the men made their way across the backyard of the house before disappearing behind the church.  Thanks to an early and full moon, we did catch just a glimpse of the silver. 

The house we watched was the pastor’s home, which was “conveniently” located right next to the church.  (People who think that is convenient have never been a pastor who lived next door to the church.)  The men who moved furtively through the dark were two of the church’s deacons and the pastor.  The woman’s voice was that of Mrs. Johnson, our pastor’s wife.  Apparently, she was the only woman allowed near the secret. 

Until that night, we had thought that the “elements” of the Lord’s Supper just showed up on the table in front of the pulpit, covered by a white tablecloth.  That night the secret was partially uncovered.  The “elements” came from the parsonage; and in spite of women not being able to serve the elements, it appeared to us that Mrs. Johnson had been allowed to help prepare them. Interesting, isn’t it?  Women could bake the bread, pour the juice, press the tablecloth, and, I suspect, wash up afterwards, but they could not serve the congregation. 

This morning at our church a man and woman will be preparing the bread and the juice, and men and women will serve.  There will be little secrecy around the Table, though there will be much mystery.  All who are present will be invited to eat and drink.  Some of those will experience the mystery of bread and juice becoming more . . . so much more.  Some who are not yet believers will eat and drink with us; and in doing so, they will hear and see lessons of God’s love and of Jesus’ promise that he is the Bread of Life.  Some who hear and see the lesson will believe, and the next time they eat and drink they may well experience the mystery.

The Table is the Lord’s.  I pray somewhere you are finding one of His Tables that is open to you.

Seeing But Not Seeing

Seeing but not seeing . . . hearing but not hearing!  It’s right out of the Bible . . . and right out of life—my life and, I suspect, your life.

How can it be?  How can a person see something or someone and not see?  How can you hear something or someone and not hear?  Well, the latter is easy to understand.  I shut out noises all the time.  I can sit in a noisy restaurant and read without ever hearing the conversation going at the table beside me.  I can watch the Reds beat the Rockies and never hear Donna who is sitting across the room from me.

“Did you see that?” my friend asked.

“What?” I ask in return.  Well, maybe seeing without seeing is as easy to understand as hearing without hearing.

We are becoming a society of folks who don’t pay attention.  Part of the problem is that we are bombarded by massive amounts of things to see and hear, and our senses overload and fail.  Even those of us who live in the “peaceful rural” parts of the country have trouble finding places and times when our senses can rest and rejuvenate.

Part of the problem is that we see and hear through our preconceptions of what there is to see and hear.  A couple of years ago, I was riding with a Kentucky State Trooper when a bulletin was aired over the radio to be on the lookout for a 2006 maroon F-150 Ford truck, license number ______ being driven by a man who had assaulted his ex-wife and had threatened to kill the first police officer who tried to stop him.  Suddenly 2006 maroon F-150 Ford trucks were everywhere.  Even days later, I was amazed at how many of them I spotted.  Before, I had never noticed.

Perception was the problem encountered by the disciples and the crowds who were drawn to Jesus.  Many of them saw Jesus as the Messiah—the messiah they perceived him to be.  They followed him for what he could do for them and what he would do to their enemies.  They were so sure of their perception of Jesus that when they finally understood the Messiah he was, they became his enemies.

What are we to do lest we become, perhaps remain, enemies of Jesus?  There is a young adult man in our congregation who sees Jesus for who he is . . . and it bothers him.  Speaking of Jesus, he said, “I hear him say, ‘If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me,’ and it scares me.  I’m not sure I’m doing that.”

 
Actually, having seen what he’s seen, the young man—husband and father—may well be closer than he thinks.  He’s certainly closer than those who see Jesus merely as the fixer of problems, the filler of bellies, and the way to heaven.

Stormy Weather

There are people who chase storms.  I am not one of those people, nor do I have any desire to become such a person.  For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a healthy respect for and fear of storms.  After living through the tornado that ripped through Louisville, Kentucky, on April 3, 1974, my feelings about storms has only intensified.

Storms cannot always be avoided, and they often come with little warning.  Even with today’s much more sophisticated weather computers, they can still “pop up.”  April 3, 1974, was a calm and rainy day.  Late in the afternoon, I sat in the library at Southern Seminary.  Donna was working in the administration building as Dr. Morgan Patterson’s secretary.  It was about 4:30 p.m. when I noticed the rain had stopped.  I decided it was a good time to head to the car.  I figured I could read there until Donna got off at 5:00 p.m.  Half way across the quadrangle, I heard, and then saw, the storm.  I never made it to the car.  A few minutes later, Donna and I found each other in the darkened basement of the main classroom wing of Norton Hall.

When storm clouds form, I watch.  When tornado warnings are issued or blizzard-like conditions are forecast, I pay attention.  On all occasions, I seek to do what is necessary either to avoid the storm or to alleviate the risk of injury and/or damage. 

The story of Jesus stilling wind and the waves has always been one of my favorites.  To be honest, it became my favorite before I understood storms.  What I liked was the image of that strong Jesus calmly sleeping through what others feared.  When their fears awoke him, I liked the image of that strong Jesus standing up, pointing his finger at the wind and the sea, and shouting, “Peace! Be still!”  Thinking back, I’ve wondered if perhaps I had an image of my being that kind of strong man.

There certainly are those who expect their pastors to be such men and women.  In the throes of crisis, they long for us to rush in and make all things well.  I’ve tried to be that pastor.  After decades of facing crises, mine and others, I have learned a couple of things.  I cannot still storms.  There are times when, through God’s grace, I am able to bring some calm in the midst of a crisis.  I have also learned that not even Jesus can still all the storms.  Some storms, once begun, must run their course.

Oh, I’ve learned something else: Peace does not require the absence of storms/crises.  Often the peace that passes understanding comes in the midst of the storm—comes because Jesus is there, holding fast to the sides of the boat, reminding us that together we will ride this out.

I long for others to know this Jesus who can still storms and who can still us in the midst of storms.  Alas, I cannot by words or even actions convince them that he is the stiller of storms; but were they to come alongside him, they might discover as I have that he is.

Happy Father's Day

I’ve already taken a glance at Facebook this morning.  Folks are posting Father’s Day greetings and remembrances.  Some are expressing their sorrow for fathers who are no longer living.

It doesn’t take a special holiday to make me remember my dad or to know that I miss him.  Dad died December 14, 2006.  Remembering him on this day does not bring sadness.  Oh, it brings a lump to my throat, but it is more a lump of joy than of sorrow. 

Dad was not perfect, but he was my dad.  At his funeral, I used the words spoken of King David—“he was a man after God’s own heart.”  Dad’s heart was tender, sometimes too tender.  It led him to great heights and to great depths.  Yet, somehow through the heights and depths, he maintained a love for those of us who were at the core of his being; and he maintained a love of God.  It was, I think, the combination of those two that, toward the end of his life made, him even more attentive to us and receptive of us than he sometimes had been.

On this Father’s Day, I have a many memories, a few of which I will share. I recall:

·    Fun times playing monopoly at the kitchen table on a rainy day.

·    His helping me refinish a desk my grandmother gave me and his helping me to build a bookcase I would take to college and which I still use.

·    Sitting on a tractor with him before I was old enough to operate it alone.

·    Seeing him climb on the John Deere combine I was operating and hearing him say, “I’m sure you’ve got a date tonight.  I’ll take over.  You go home and get cleaned up.”

·    Feeling his big arms across my shoulders as he lay across my bed, comforting me as my heart ached from a broken teenage love relationship.

·    Watching him repair a broken bicycle chain.

·    Hearing him tell me that I could replace the universal joint on my 1955 Pontiac.

·    Watching him (and Mom) watch me driving off to college.

·    Seeing him weep with joy as he listened to his son preach.

·    Having our last, long conversation—one about things that mattered.

Above all else, I will remember one of the most important lessons he taught me—the power of forgiveness. 

Dad was the victim of shooting in 1998 that left him partially paralyzed for the remainder of his life.  Terrell Patterson, man who shot him, is serving a life sentence.  On the day of Terrell’s final appeal, Dad decided he wanted to speak to Terrell.  This was arranged at the Dunklin County Sheriff’s Office, where Terrell was being temporarily held.  The sheriff ushered Terrell into his office where he had a few moments earlier left us.  As Terrell entered the office, Dad pushed himself up from the chair in which he was seated.  To steady himself, he placed his left hand on the desktop.  With his right hand, he reached out to Terrell, who after a moment’s hesitation took it in his right hand.  Dad, gripping the hand that had held the gun that fired the bullet that left him paralyzed, said to Terrell, “Terrell, I hate what you have done to me, but I don’t hate you.  I forgive you and wish for you only the best.”

Like King David, my dad made some serious mistakes which altered his life and our family’s life; but he was also like King David in that he was a man after God’s own heart.  He understood the need for forgiveness—both received and given. 

Thinking of Dad this morning, I give thanks for who he was and for all he gave me. 

Haiti Mission Team Commissioning

HAITI MISSION TEAM DEDICATION

June 10, 2012

Team Members: Lynn Wilson, Emily Coomes, Travis Bell, Crystal Ernst, Eddie Higdon, Megan Lucas, and Jo Brewer (Franklinton Baptist Church)

We look at you and cannot help experiencing a mixture of emotions--best expressed by the questions we ask ourselves and sometimes ask each other.

•  Will they be safe?

•  Should our sons and daughters, particularly our younger son and daughters, be heading off on this kind of trip?

•  Are they really prepared for the kind of experience that awaits them?

•  How will this effect them?

Are there good answers to these questions?  If we seek to answer the questions as anxious family members and concerned church members, there are no good answers; but we do not look for answers based on our own fears and thoughts.  We seek answers as a people of God who believe that God has, from the beginning of human history, called out people to become his presence--his hands, feet, eyes, ears, and heart--to others.

•  Will they be safe?  There is no place of safety.  To live is to incur risk.  The question is not safety, but obedience.  In this sense, "safety" is redefined as being in the place where one understands God calling him/her to be. 

•  Should our sons and daughters be heading off to Haiti?  That question has already been answered.  Each one of these is committed to going for one reason and one reason only--they understand it to be a call from God.

•  Are they prepared for the kind of experience that awaits them?  As much as one can be. When one follows the call of God, there are always surprises.  Some of these will be cultural . . . some will be the result of the work of the Holy Spirit in each of their lives.  Faithfulness to God's call is the bedrock of preparation.

•  How will this effect them?  This they will discover in part as they live out the mission.  The full extent of the mission's impact on their lives will not be known until later.  It will alter their lives . . . and ours.

Team members, as the Body of Christ gathered in this place, we commission you to go in his name, remembering that you are first and last his ambassadors.  We commission you to go as members of Eminence Baptist Church/Franklinton Baptist Church, knowing that through our love of you, our prayers for you, and our financial support we will be with you. 

Whatever lies before you, remember always Who walks beside you.  Listen for and depend upon the guidance of the Holy Spirit.  Do what you can, but be less concerned about what you do and more concerned about Whose you are.  Be Christ's presence in Haiti, and he will accomplish his purpose whether you ever see or know that purpose.

Our Prayer

Almighty God, from your instruction to Adam and Eve to your call of Abraham to leave his home and follow you to Moses to the prophets to the apostles to calls to those of our own day, you have been calling your people to leave their comfort zones and follow you into new lands and new experiences.  Today that call comes to our own.  Lynn, Emily, Travis, Crystal, Eddie, Megan, and Jo have heard your call.  We have heard their response and have linked our hearts and dollars too support them in their obedience to your call.

In spite of acknowledged anxiety, we release these our brothers and sisters to your call and to your grace and care.  Grant them soft hearts, strong and healthy bodies, and faithful spirits that they may be from this moment forward your people reaching out to others of your children in Haiti.  Give to them strength to work hard and patience to allow you to work even when they see their own efforts as too small to meet the needs of the Haitian people.

We plead that you will prepare the way for them--giving those who will help transport them and guide them wisdom to do so wisely.  Prepare their hearts and the hearts of those with whom they will share the mission so that they may all be one in Christ.  Prepare those who will receive benefit of their mission that the time spent together will be fruitful for the kingdom.

Above all, O God, may your will be done in each of their lives, among them as a group, and in the lives of those to whom they render service.

In the name of Jesus who gave all that we may live, we pray.  Amen.

The Crusade that out-Crusades the Church

It is Crusade Weekend in Kentuckiana.  For those of you who live outside our immediate area, “Crusade” is a fundraiser more properly known as the WHAS Crusade for Children.  It is an effort of literally thousands of people, with local fire departments serving as the local collection centers.  The money raised is distributed throughout our area to benefit children in a variety of settings and who live with a variety of challenges.  Because of the money raised, thousands of children receive the chance for life, and wholeness of life. 

This year is the 59^th Crusade.  Over the years, the Crusade has raised 143 million dollars for children with special needs.  Last year’s total was 5.3 million dollars!  As of 7:00 p.m. Saturday night, the Eminence Fire and Rescue Department had already raised $26,000.00 from our small community.  By noon tomorrow when the collections cease, the total will near $30,000.00.

For the past few days, strangers passing through the towns and cities of Kentuckiana must have found it strange to see fire trucks, with lights flashing, sitting at most major intersections.  Behind or in front of the trucks, they saw firefighters and volunteers holding out firefighter’s boots to collect donations from passing motorists.  By late Sunday night or early Monday morning, those boots will have yielded up to 5 million dollars or more.

All that money is not collected in one week of concerted effort.  All through the year, fire departments, local clubs and businesses, and individuals and small groups work to raise funds.  Crusade Weekend is merely the collection time for a year’s work.  Many hands and many hours lead to life and wholeness for children in all 120 counties of Kentucky and in 50 counties in Southern Indiana.

As we gathered at Eminence Baptist on Crusade Sunday for a service focused on Communion, this pastor was praying that we who have received so much because of the One whose Body was broken and whose Blood was shed will grow to be a people most thankful—a people who are willing daily to take up our crosses and to so live that children and adults who have too little may have enough, that children and adults may come to know and experience a salvation that is both Whole and Holy.

Five to six million dollars will be raised for the Crusade and most of it will have been given without sacrifice on the part of the donors.  Most of us will have given from our abundance.  What might be the outcome were the people called Christian to give sacrificially of both their resources and their lives?

What indeed!

Baccalaureate Address to the 2012 Eminence High School Graduates

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

Scripture Lessons:
I Samuel 17:38-40, 48-50

Matthew 5:2-11

            According to the dictionary, the word baccalaureate refers to a “farewell sermon delivered to a graduating class.”  For those of us assigned the task, it is often seen as our last chance to tell you something really important so that you can be sent off well.

            Some ministers use the occasion to preach their best evangelical sermon, urging those who do believe to remain vigilant and urging those who do not believe to do so.  I will not do that.

            Other ministers will use the occasion to tell you what an important role you have ahead of you and to assure you that you have all you need to meet the challenge.  I will not do that.

            Even others will tell you that the folks who make the biggest contributions to life are those who are selfless, who always put others first.  I will not do that.

            I’m here tonight to urge you to be selfish.  I urge you to use this evening and, perhaps, the next few days before graduation to turn your thoughts inward.  I urge you to figure out who you are and to be that person and no one else.  Fail to get that right, and you will get little else right.

            Did you read William Shakespeare’s Hamlet?  Do you recall Polonius’s last piece of advice to his son Laertes?

This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell, my blessing season this in thee!

It’s sound advice.  The only problem is that it is impossible to be true to one’s own self unless one first knows one’s own self.  The best education is not one that leaves you with lots of facts, figures, and theories.  The best education opens the door of your mind and heart to self-exploration that leads to the discovery of who you are.

            . . . who you are apart from school

                        . . . who you are apart from your parents

            . . . who you are!

            Did you pay attention as Ms. Dees read the familiar account of David and Goliath?  King Saul is so impressed that David is willing to face Goliath, that he offers the young man his own armor.  It was quite an honor . . . a sign that David had arrived.  I suspect the armor was too large and too heavy, but that is not given as the reason for what happened.  David did not face down Goliath wearing the king’s armor.  Scripture states that David “tried in vain to go, for he had not tested them.”  David couldn’t fight this battle with another man’s armor, with another man’s courage, or in another man’s name.  He faced Goliath as David, the David he knew, and with the weapons he had tested and, therefore, knew.

            Be true to yourself.  Engage the world with the resources you have and know.  To be successful, you do not need to be anyone other than who you are; but you must be who you are, not who you pretend to be.

            Knowing who you are and being willing to be that person . . . fully to be that person is one of the surest ways to reach a goal that eludes many: to be happy.

Candide wanted above all else to be happy.  He sought happiness in places, in people, and in things.  It seemed to elude him.  Do you know Candide?  He’s the main character in Candide by Francois Voltaire.  Along with companions, Candide suffers many calamities.   Toward the end of the book as these calamities are recounted, Candide asks his companion Martin which member of the group he thinks is the most miserable.  Martin responds, "I cannot tell.  I would have to be inside your heads to know."  So it is. 

One’s happiness is not found in the circumstances of his/her life, but in his/her heart, soul, and mind.  Neither circumstances, fortunes, people, nor places can determine one’s state of happiness.  Happiness is determined by our response to those things.  Our responses are determined by who we have become.  Who we have become is determined by that to which we have given ultimate allegiance.  We will not find happiness in:

•  Companions, including spouses.

•  Jobs no matter how much they pay or how much prestige they bring to us.

•  Fraternities to which we belong.

•  Causes we undertake.

•  Material possession.

It is found in us, or it is not found.

As the book concludes, Candide and all his companions are reunited, living in peace and security.  Yet, they bicker . . . because they are bored.  An old woman among them asks:  "I'd like to know which is worse to be raped a hundred times by . . . pirates, to have one buttock cut off, to run the gauntlet in the Bulgar army, to be whipped and hanged . . . to be dissected, to be a galley slave, in short to suffer all the miseries we've all gone through, or to stay here doing nothing."  Candide replies, "That's a hard question."

It is a hard question indeed; but to do nothing is the surest way to boredom and to a living death.  As human beings, we were not created to be idle.  But to do something is not enough.  The divine destiny waiting for each of us is to do what we are called to do.  To do it, we need to be true to ourselves, to trust, as did David, in the "armor" we have been given and have tested, and it is to be guided by a principle and a higher power than ourselves.

A wise older man, who owns but 20 acres of land from which he provides a living for himself and his four children, tells Candide that it is “our work that keeps us free of three great evils—boredom, vice, and poverty.”  The old man had found that for which Candide had searched—happiness; and it came from knowing who he was, what he needed, and what he had to give, and being satisfied.

Perhaps coming to know one’s own self in order to be true to one’s own self . . . perhaps finding the secret to happiness is possible outside of a relationship with God.  Perhaps . . . but it has not been my experience.  For me, self-knowledge came both from looking inside myself and from looking outside myself to God.

            There may be some here who do not believe the Christian faith to be true.  I would still commend to you the teachings of Jesus, particularly the Beatitudes as read by Ms. Emily.  They reverse almost every modern-day teaching about what it takes to be successful; but I invite you to let the beatitudes become the focus of your meditation and the guide for your living. 

            I will go further.  I will commend Jesus to you.  I do so not because the Bible says he is Son of God, Savior, and King.  I do so because I've tried him and found him worthy of my life.  In him, I’ve found the courage to know myself and to be true to who I am.  Having done so, I discovered that I belonged in this community, among people like you, your parents, and grandparents, pastoring a small-town church.  I found the courage to be the preacher I am, rather than trying to be like some other preacher.  I found the freedom to declare what I believe to be true and to acknowledge what I do not know and what quite frankly baffles me about life and faith. 

            In short by being true to myself, I have found the happiness that comes from being at home with one’s own self.  May it be so for you.