Monday, May 23, 2016

Protective Fathers

I should save this for Father’s Day but these feelings are with me now, so I thought I’d share them even if it’s a little early. 

They entered the restaurant exhilarated: an older man carrying a small boy, a grandchild probably, his hand cradling the back of the child’s neck, their heads close enough to touch.  I surmised this was the first time ever that these two had ventured out just by themselves. Somewhere, I imagined, there was a houseful of relatives from which they had escaped. 

photo by David Mercer

They discussed their order at length, which was a complicated affair: Burgers or chicken nuggets? Fries?  Milk or soda? A chocolate shake instead? And which small toy to choose?  That task completed, they reached their table, where the man began to set out their meal. 

Then the boy darted away, I think in search for a restroom.  The man did a double take as he processed that his charge had vacated the vicinity.  I had been enjoying watching them, and when the boy took off, I kept my eyes on him until the man could catch up.  The boy turned a corner, and I saw another man come to attention to keep watch over him.  The old man scurried past, muttering about how fast the little guy could move. I pointed him in the right direction.  The second man also pointed. 

The old man caught up with him and they continued their outing. The other man and I relaxed our vigil and resumed our respective meals.

There was something significant about that moment when all three of us men, strangers to each other, shared guardianship over the child.  I have no doubt that each of us was a father, in the older man’s case a grandfather, because we each automatically slipped into the role of protector. It’s what we do for our children. And when necessary, we watch over each other’s children, too. 

Photo by David Mercer

My sons are grown and preparing to pursue their destinies.  Like that child, they will be darting away outside the range of my protection. I think they’re ready but I hope there are some dads out there who will lend a hand if I can’t be there. I’ll do the same for the young ones around here.

Presumably, one day my sons will become fathers, and the moment it happens they will understand me a little better. We will look into each other’s eyes and recognize the protective quality we share for the children. 

Thursday, April 21, 2016

World Changers

I was thinking about how capable the people of our church are. We have lawyers, judges, teachers, doctors, nurses, dentists, businessmen, counselors, vocational professionals, and retired professionals, etc. Additionally, all of our people have abilities too unique to be categorized. Every civic and service group in town has United Methodists participating, offering their leadership and service. In every major community fundraiser, I see United Methodists participating.  Additionally, wherever there is major damage from natural or manmade disaster, you’ll see United Methodists among those who are helping.  Our motto for disaster cleanup is, “We’re the first ones in and the last ones out.” 

Our mission statement is, “to make disciples for the transformation of the world.” Our church is full of people who do that every day, who go out to serve, teach, heal, and render aid.  We make things better and we don’t stop at religious ritualism—we put our beliefs into practice.

A vibrant church equips its members to go out and do their best work. I think we forget that goal when we become overly concerned with self maintenance, if not self preservation.  I say all churches need to quit thinking of themselves and focus back on their mission, which is to make the world better and to make the kingdom of heaven remains accessible.

We come together to worship God and fortify each other with encouragement and healing. We study to know more about Christ and how to grow as disciples. We train the children to take on Christian values and help them to fully know their God.  And all these things equip us to serve Jesus’ purpose, which is to help and heal all people

United Methodists. We are world changers. 

Monday, April 11, 2016

I Am the Nerdy Healer!

When Jesus hung out with the drunks, prostitutes, and tax collectors, it doesn’t appear that he actively worked to change them.  In other words, I don’t think any preaching or teaching went on while they ate, drank, and danced--he just had a good time with them.

Was he criticized for being with them? Of course he was, but his answer to the criticism was that they needed him, so he was there for them. It wasn’t just his teaching or miracles or good example that affected them. They needed him because it is the presence of Jesus that is healing and restorative. For them, the eating, drinking, and dancing became the church activities that facilitated their being with Jesus.   

I wonder sometimes... was Jesus the life of every party.  You know, the fun guy toward whom everyone gravitated? I figure he was, considering his entertaining stories and personal popularity.  Yeah, he was probably cool. 

Not so with me.  I usually end up sitting on the periphery of these gatherings, watching, listening, and smiling, because I enjoy people. However, I never quite know how to participate in these settings, and sadly, people become a little uncomfortable about turning it loose in front of the pastor.  Occasionally a kind person will come over and speak to me for a moment, then wander back to the crowd.   

I’d like to be cooler, but wine gives me a headache and as I get older I become more and more the absent minded professor who isn’t well versed in pop references. I can’t dance and I listen to music that’s a little out of the mainstream, which is to say dull.  I don’t even follow sports.  No matter how hard I try, there’s just no changing the fact that I’m kind of a nerd. 

And that’s okay because in addition to the drunks, prostitutes, and tax collectors, Jesus loves nerds like me.  He sees the worth in all of us, and when I look through his eyes, I see more deeply the worth of each person, including myself. 

I don’t have to be exactly like Jesus, which is good because my personality is somewhat different. But I can be happy being me, and I can enjoy being with others, appreciating them just as they are.  And that makes me a kind of healer too, even if I am a nerd.

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

It Really Is Good News

Gospel, which means Good News, is a term found often in the synoptic gospels and the book of Acts. 

When I was growing up, I had a narrow understanding of the term which consisted of the story of Jesus’ arrest, crucifixion, and resurrection.  It also included the process of claiming the assurance of salvation. While I do not discount those things, I’ve come to realize there was more to Jesus’ good news. 

The good news is that God is not the vengeful, warlike entity that we might understand from earlier writings, but rather more like the doting, overindulgent father of the tale of “The Prodigal Son.”  Or he’s the shepherd who loses all perspective and leaves everything to find the one lost sheep. 

The good news is that God is the Great Physician who looks at sinfulness and sees it as sickness which he can cure.  He repairs, restores, and revives us rather than rejecting us if we don’t measure up. 

The good news is that the kingdom of God has different values than other kingdoms. In God’s kingdom the first are last and the last are first, the poor are more important than the rich, the weak are honored over the strong, and the children get more attention than the adults. Furthermore, though it may honor the weak, the kingdom of God is stronger than any earthly kingdom.  It continues to advance, cannot be destroyed, and will last forever. 

The story of the cross is about atonement, but it is also about triumph where evil is overcome with good, darkness is overcome by light, and death is defeated by life. 

As we celebrate Holy Week, let’s remember the full blessing of the Good News.  

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Tone Deaf

A lot of people tell me that they are tone deaf and can’t sing.

Now wait… don’t tell me you’re one of those people. Just keep reading. 

Virtually no one is tone deaf. Argue if you want, but it’s true. When you discern when to shift the gear in your car, it’s because you can hear a difference in sound. If you’re a mother and can tell whether you’re baby’s cry is from fatigue or pain, you can discern pitch. 

If you were tone deaf, you wouldn’t have music preferences. One station on the radio would be the same as the other, and you wouldn’t sing along with the radio in your car, but you do because you enjoy what you’re hearing. And that proves you’re not tone deaf. It also proves that you can sing.  Most of us just need some training so we can identify what we are hearing. 

About my supposedly nonmusical friends, I’ve observed that at some point in their early lives, someone criticized their singing, usually a parent or a teacher. So they just quit.  I often challenge them: Do you mean to tell me that when you were a child, you made a decision for life based on what one person said? 

They did indeed. And it bothers me because singing is not so much about performance—sure there are those who perform and perhaps they have some special ability and training. But for most of us, singing is about expression. How much of one’s soul is diminished because they’re too scared to sing? And how much have we missed because we didn’t hear the song of another’s heart?

I like to hear the children sing before they’ve been told they can’t. I like hearing the babies sing before they can even form words. I like to hear the toddlers who make up their songs on the spot.  I think of the children who sang about Jesus in the temple before the adults could make them be quiet.

What wonders would we hear if people were just a little less afraid to express themselves?

The thought makes me remember to be very careful about criticizing another’s expression. 

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Thoughts on Matthew 4:1-11, When Jesus Was Tempted

"Command these stones to turn to bread.”

It seems like a pretty good idea, plus it would be a good marketing strategy. Jesus could tell the crowds, “I’m hungry, you’re hungry… let’s have dinner and have a nice chat about your souls.”

In fact, Jesus did feed crowds of people miraculously with loaves and fishes, and it made him popular, as did his power to heal the sick.  And it was all good—it just wasn’t good enough, and the crowds faded when food was gone, which Jesus knew would happen.

Jesus' reply to Satan was actually a statement to us:  “One does not live by bread alone but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”

Filling the stomach does not necessarily feed the soul. Oh, it’s pretty crucial when you don’t have any, but many of us have more than enough; to the point where we have to struggle to keep the weight down. Yet even when there’s plenty of food, we can feel lonely, empty, and unhappy.

For that matter, wealth doesn’t spare us from misery, and neither does excitement and entertainment (although I would like to have seen Jesus jump off a cliff and fly around). 

Jesus wanted to put us in touch with God, so we could find true satisfaction.

When I think of the word of God, I don’t think of a written page. Instead, I imagine the Father sitting close beside me, speaking into my ear, the words pouring directly into my heart, filling me up in a way that makes me calm and whole.

Perhaps the purpose of fasting is to remove distraction so we can focus fully on that word from God. 

Thursday, December 26, 2013

The True Nativity Scene

The following was one of the readings I wrote for the Christmas Eve Service

The Prince of Peace was not born in a palace. He had no soft blankets against his skin. There were no relatives cooing and demanding that they be the next one to hold him. 

We understand that he was born to a poor family, but perhaps we don’t realize how poor. Most of us imagine the nativity scene like this:  

Look again at Luke’s account of Christ’s birth and you’ll see there is no mention of a barn or a stable. There were no cute animals lying sedately in sweet smelling straw.  There’s not even mention of the donkey for Mary to ride.

Mary and Joseph were far from home, away from any family or friends. When it says there was no room in the inn, it means they were outside in the cold night. There was no emergency shelter, no public housing, no hospital constrained by law to accept her, even if she had no money. 

They simply found a vacant place on the ground for her to deliver her baby. And because she would have been too weak to hold him, they put him in the nearest container—one of those feed troughs to which we have assigned the quaint name, manger.  And they found some old rags to wrap around the child to protect him from exposure.  


It’s a miracle anyone survives such conditions, but some do. On this night, they did. 

This was the scene that made the angels sing. This was what the shepherds found when they searched for him.  This is the baby who grew up to heal the sick, feed the hungry, and speak powerful words that still move our hearts.    

This is the birth we celebrate.