Posted in faith

A deeper trust in God

Photo by Bobbi Wu on Unsplash

A few weeks ago at a men’s bible study, the guys around my table were sharing prayer requests. One of the guys at my table, I’ll call him Tom, said, “I just want to be in deeper communion with Christ.” He had been paying attention to Sunday morning preaching, in which the pastor had encouraged everyone, no matter where we were in our walk with Christ, to take a step deeper. Tom has been a believer for a long time, teaches our men’s group, and has a daily devotional discipline.

So I asked, “What do you mean by that?” (BTW, that’s always a good first response. Get them to tell more of the story.)

Tom replied, “I want a deeper connection. I want a conscious connection with the Lord all day long. I read and pray in the morning, and then I get to work, not really thinking much about him. I want to do better.”

That’s a noble goal. But is it possible? Is it possible to consciously have God on the front burner of your heart, mind and soul twenty-four seven? Isn’t what monks attempted to do? Didn’t they removed themselves from all worldly distractions so that they could pray throughout their waking hours?

Well, I’ll tell you right now, I can’t do it. And neither can you. And that’s okay. Really it is. Let me explain why.

Let’s use the model of sheep and a shepherd. The sheep know the voice of the shepherd and follow him. They follow him to pasture, to water, and back to the sheep pen before evening. In the meantime, they eat. They bleat. They wander around the pasture. They make lambs. And through it all, I’ll bet they don’t think much about the shepherd.

But the shepherd thinks about them. The shepherd leads them, watches them, and protects them. He’s the shepherd. That’s his job. And if he’s doing his job, then the sheep can be…sheep.

Get it? If God is on duty twenty-four seven, if God never slumbers nor sleeps, if the Lord is our shepherd, then we can be his sheep. We can trust him so deeply that we can eat, drink, and enjoy our work without a care in the world. (Ecclesiastes 5:18).

You know what? That’s deep.

Posted in faith, Life, prayer

Have a little faith

A few things went through my mind when I pulled up to this car.

First, it’s a Saturn. Saturn stopped making cars in 2010. So I’ll bet this car was about fifteen years old. I think it takes faith to keep taking it out on the road. Although, on the plus side, if the student is still a beginner, a few dents and dings won’t bother anyone.

Second, there is probably a student driver at the wheel. It definitely takes faith to ride alongside first-time drivers day after day. If you don’t have gray hair yet, you will very soon.

Finally, I flashed back to my own driver’s ed experience in high school. I turned sixteen in 1973 and took the class that fall. All I remember from the class was a slide show with gruesome pictures of cars wrapped around telephone poles and the mangled bodies inside of them. The main message: wear your seat belt.

But to complete the class and get a discount on insurance, you had to drive with an instructor in a car equipped with a brake on the passenger side. If things got hairy, the teacher could hit the brake and avoid whatever was in front of the car.

I didn’t get to be in the car until the following summer. By then, I had driven the family car and thought I knew what I was doing. I think I went out three times with an instructor. At the end of the last session, I was winding through some suburban Philadelphia neighborhoods when the teacher slammed on the brake from his side and brought the car to a stop.

I asked, “What did I do wrong?”

He replied, “Oh, nothing. My mom lives here and I just wanted to stop in and say hello.” Thanks for the heads up. By the time he came back out, my heart had stopped pounding and we drove back to the school.

A few weeks later, I asked my mom if I could take my license test. She wasn’t optimistic but took me to the state police station where you took your test on a closed course with a smokey bear hat-wearing state trooper. Intimidating? Absolutely. I thought I blew it when I had to back up our big Ford Falcon station wagon a second time to complete the three point turn. Much to my mom’s surprise, I passed and got my license that day.

Thirty years later taught my own children to drive. Yes, it takes a lot of faith. On the plus side, you also learn a lot about prayer!

Posted in death

A shrine in the woods

I (and Samson) have probably walked past this little shrine a hundred times. It’s about fifty feet off the road in an undeveloped lot next to a drainage ditch around the block from my house. I always knew there was something there on the tree, but couldn’t quite see what. Today we decided to take a closer look.

It’s there in memory of Justin, a twenty-three year old young man. A couple of American flags suggest he may have died in military service of our country. A rosary lets me know someone still prays for him. A solar-powered angel-light stands vigil at night. A small valentine sits right next to a small stone reminding us of the presence of angels. A small sign reminds us to count our blessings.

I’ve seen plenty of little shrines at intersections and curves in the road where crashes have taken the lives of loved ones. When words fail us, small crosses, stuffed animals, pictures, flowers and flags announce to the world, “We miss this person a lot.” These carefully erected shrines express a grief in ways that words can’t.

There is almost always a cross at the center of those shrines. A cross that reminds us of Jesus’ horrible death. A cross that reminds us of Jesus’ victory over death on the third day. The church may not be filled with all those who believe, trust or grasp for hope in Christ. But they are out there. They say it with a memorial that speaks volumes about their loved one, their faith and their Lord.

Posted in faith

You do not want to miss this offer!

My stewardship chairman is going to kill me when these coupons start showing up in the offering plate!

Once again, fake coupons for Costco are being shared around the internet. It’s not a new scam. People were printing and clipping them last year, too. And you can be certain someone will be sharing them again next year.

So here is my question: why does anyone even give these things the time of day? Why would anyone think this was legit? I feel badly for all those who believe and propagate these fake coupons, which as you can plainly see, are pretty easy to generate.

How many of those who recirculate fake coupons will openly question the truths of the gospel, will challenge what Jesus said, and even doubt his existence? Way too many.

Posted in aging, death, Ministry

One last visit

Sunset_2007-1Today would probably be my last visit. The last time I saw J. he didn’t look too bad. He had lost some weight, had lost some strength and had to use a walker. The cancer was there, but he didn’t purse treatment. He’d had ninety-one good years, fifty-five of them with an amazing wife. A life well-lived.

Today when I went to visit, I didn’t know what to expect. When I got to the door, his wife said, “He won’t know you’re here.” But when I got to his bed, he looked at me and whispered, “Hello, pastor.” A couple of weeks into hospice care, he had stopped eating and drinking, and slept most of the time. Death crept closer with each moment. But he was home, in his own bed, without pain and with his wife, continuing to live a good life.

Our conversation was brief as I prepared the sacrament, a foretaste of the feast to come. A little bread dipped in wine would be his portion. His wife would receive the rest as she sat on the other side of the bed. I silently thanked God for this moment, probably the last, to give him communion. To give them communion together. I’m no expert, but I knew he didn’t have many more conversations left in him. I knew this would be his last meal on this side of the heavenly banquet.

This family is one of the few who have been at our church longer than me. They joined about a year before I arrived, so I have known them for a long time. I thanked him for his faithfulness, and reminded him, as I had for the last twenty-one years, of God’s faithfulness. I reminded him of Jesus’ sacrifice, God’s forgiveness, and that place prepared for him by his Savior. After a prayer and the Lord’s prayer, I made the sign of the cross on his head as I spoke the benediction. A reminder of the sign of the cross made on his head and heart at his baptism ninety-one years before, in anticipation of this very moment.

I don’t quickly forget these moments. As a pastor, I get to be a part of many families’ final moments with loved ones. I get to be there in those moments when the temporal and the eternal touch, when heaven meets earth, and when loved ones leave this life for the next. I could tell that God had blessed this family with love, acceptance, hope, and strength. Rather than falling apart as death drew near, they fell into the arms of their Savior a familiar place they had been many times before,

Before I left, I saw and talked with D., his wife. I made sure she was getting the help she needed, got her to promise she would call when anything happened, and talked about J.’s memorial service. For someone as frail as she was, she had strength and composure that I can only attribute to the Holy Spirit. I guess that’s why He’s known as the Comforter and the Helper!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in dying, Life, Ministry

You need to hear it again.

silvestri-matteo-176500The call came pretty late last night, about 10:45. I was driving, and felt my phone buzz in my pocked, but didn’t listen to the message until after I got home. “She said she thinks he’s dying.” I only live about a mile away and I didn’t want them to be alone, so I headed over to the apartment.

When I arrived, it was and it wasn’t what I expected. I’ve been with many people in hospice care for the last days and hours of their lives. I’m familiar with the shallow, irregular, rattling breathing. I just didn’t think it would happen this soon. Just hours earlier, he had been awake, conversant, signing his own documents and deciding to come home from the hospital. Hospice hadn’t even been to the house yet, and it looked like he’d be gone before they even arrived. He wasn’t conscious, but he also didn’t seem uncomfortable, which was a blessing.

A few more people arrived. All we could do was wait. Wait for a call back from hospice. Wait and wonder whether it was a wise choice to come home. Wait and pray, commending him to the Lord’s care.

With her encouragement, we left about 12:30 pm. She knew who to call if anything got out of hand. When I called back this morning, I learned he had died about an hour after we all left. Her words to me on the phone were, “I know he’s with the Lord. I just hope God accepts him.”

Without hesitation, I replied, “I have no doubt! He had faith in Christ. We just talked about that the other day when I brought him communion, He was forgiven. You don’t have to worry about that at all.”

“Thank you so much. That’s just what I needed to hear.”

If you know me at all, you know I talk about that all the time. Maybe when you’re sitting there on a Sunday and life is pretty good and you don’t have too many worries, it doesn’t register. But when the breathing stops, you feel all alone, and reality kicks in, it suddenly becomes an issue. So, you need to hear it again. If I can, I’ll be there to make sure you do.

Lately it seems like I’ve been spending a lot of time with people who get hit with stuff over and over again. What do you do for someone when the cancer keeps coming back? Or the headaches? Or the strokes? Or the flooding? I’m humbled knowing I don’t have a whole lot of answers. But I get to bring Christ, and he gives more than we ask or imagine.

Posted in Grace, Life

Back to class

This morning I was reading John 16, and towards the end of the chapter, Jesus’ disciples basically say to him, “Now we understand what you’re talking about. We believe. We trust you.” Jesus replies (my paraphrase), “Oh yeah? We haven’t even gotten to the hard part yet, when you all run away and leave me alone.” In other words, we haven’t even gotten to the main event, the cross and all that would mean. Jesus was teaching them about His departure and the arrival of the Spirit because they would need it later. “In this world, you will have tribulation,” Jesus said, “But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

What I’ve noticed is just when you think you’ve got it all figured out, just when you think you might be able to do this, to be faithful, to follow Christ, something happens and you need to learn to trust him all over again. Illness happens, financial uncertainty happens, conflict happens, disaster happens, and just about anything you can think of. What we learn is good for about a day. Tomorrow there will be another lesson. I once heard someone say that life is like algebra class: there’s always another problem.