Pastor’s Point

Welcome to each and every one of you who have joined us this fall! I hope you have had a refreshing break and are raring to go. To you veterans, you have been missed! To you rookies, we are glad you are here and hope you still feel the same in a few months!! As we start another choir season, we are following the theme “Shine Like Stars” throughout this year, taken from Philippians 2:  “Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life.”  

Each week, we want to look at a specific way we can achieve stardom, not as celebrities but as bright lights that make a difference. As a worship community, we will be studying a set of 16 core values (Sweet Sixteen) we hold up as a way of doing life together biblically. We begin that journey this Sunday as we look at the value of knowing the Word. In addition, this space in our newsletter will be devoted to sharing practical ways we can become brighter in our ministry toward one another and those we serve. While it is called the Pastor’s Point, I’d like to open it up to any of you who would like to contribute an article on this very topic.

As we start a new season, I am aware that each of us, here for the first time or “old-timers” wants to belong, to feel a part of, not apart from the group. And we want to be welcomed and accepted as we are, “warts and all.” Ken Medema, a blind, contemporary Christian songwriter, once wrote these words, referring to the church:

If this is not a place where tears are understood, where can I go to cry?

And if this is not a place where my spirit can take wing, where can I go to fly?

His chorus was equally compelling:

I don’t need another place for trying to impress you with just how good and

virtuous I am.

I don’t need another place for always being on top of things,

everybody knows

 that it’s a sham.

In truth, no matter where we spend the hours of each day, we can be surrounded by people and still feel alone. Maybe it’s because we are in a certain life situation, have a certain color of skin, or have arrived at a certain age that we don’t feel fully accepted. Put another way, we’ve been moved to the margins. We’ve all heard the term marginalized. It refers to those people or persuasions which are out of the mainstream, less influential, or even completely devalued. The dictionary lists, among it’s meanings, “the edge of something, especially the outer edge or the area close to it; the part farthest from the center- that part of anything, e.g., a society or organization, that is least integrated with the center. Least often considered, least typical or most vulnerable.”

Have you ever felt out of the mainstream, devalued, without influence where you want it most…in your job, in your marriage or family, in this church? Or maybe you are one of those who easily flows with the idea that in this dog-eat-dog world of ours, there will always be those who are “losers”, undesirables, or just inconveniences? In such a Darwinian approach to the masses, what’s the big deal when someone less educated, less attractive, perhaps less spiritual than the mainstream goes under for the third time?

But if we take our cues as shining stars from the Light of the World himself, it is a big deal. As our Good Shepherd, he relentlessly pursues those very kinds of people. Those people like you and me. I think of the line from the familiar hymn, “Come Thou Fount”– Jesus sought me when a stranger, wand’ring from the fold of God. Talk about your margins! While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. We weren’t just a little off-center…we were nearly over the cliff!

May it never be an acceptable notion to any of us at Hope that we are outside the margins of God’s love and redemption plan…ever! And may it be equally intolerable that we would view even one person we encounter as less than us or unworthy of the touch of God. As God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, let’s use margins for writing papers, not classifying people.

So, again, welcome to this choir season! Welcome to what I believe will be an exciting year of service, outreach and fun. But also welcome to the grand lab experiment we call Christian community, where we learn how to worship with a lot more than words.

                                                                                                                                                     tad



Pastor’s Point: I wouldn’t be caught dead…

You’ve certainly heard the phrase before. Perhaps you’ve even used it in conversation. I wouldn’t be caught dead… In reality, unless the Lord comes first, everyone of us will be caught dead doing something. I had a college buddy who got a letter from his mom informing him that their church organist had literally died in the middle of the service that Sunday. Needless to say, it was not a joyful noise.

As a retired pastor, my own grandfather, William Frederick Dommer, died instantly of a heart attack administering communion to a woman in a hospital. That’s the thing about death—no matter when it happens, there is always a where.

But this phrase, I wouldn’t be caught dead is usually heard in the context of some despicable job or life situation in which we could never imagine ourselves. Years ago, I served a church in the Chicago area as a minister of music and full time teacher in their Christian school. Once, while taking my eighth grade students on a field trip to a factory in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, I actually made the unfortunate and arrogant statement that “I wouldn’t be caught dead” working on an assembly line doing something menial and boring like that. Almost a year to the day later, I was standing in a paper mill, counting notebooks and packaging them for shipment…eight hours a day, six days a week.

It followed a fateful decision to leave that church position in Chicago and embark on a consulting ministry with a pastor friend of mine. Long story short, the free-lance ministry never gained traction, and I found myself jobless with a wife and three young kids in Appleton, Wisconsin. The factory job was my last resort. In fact, I wasn’t found dead in that paper mill, but for close to nine months I found myself slowly dying inside.

How could I have so misheard God? How could I have been so presumptuous as to leave one job without securing another? How could I take such a risk with my wife and family involved? And what good was I now to God, when all my education and training was for “ministry?” I’m making no music. I’m not teaching young minds the things of God. I’m not leading people in worship. And to add insult to injury, any attempt at rational Christian thought was drowned out by the noise of high-speed machinery and worse, the loud blaring rock music over the factory PA system.

Among the many decadent and depressing lyrics to which I was subjected was a song repeated several times daily by the rock band Pink Floyd. Into my already dwindling self esteem rang out this mantra…

We don't need no education

We don't need no thought control

No dark sarcasm in the classroom

Teachers leave those kids alone

Hey! teachers! leave those kids alone!

All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

Well I was no longer a teacher, but that is exactly how I began to feel. In the kingdom of God, I had become just another brick in the wall. So I cried out to God, admitting my sense of worthlessness, repenting of squandered opportunities and wasting His time in this God-forsaken place.

It was then that God spoke to me in a way I had not heard before and have treasured ever since. It went something like this: Tim, your value to me is not in what you do…in how much ministry you accomplish. Your value to me is simply that you are my son. I pictured, for a moment, those words ringing over Jesus after His baptism…this is My Son, in whom I am well pleased. At the beginning of…not the end of…His public ministry. God’s pleasure in Jesus was rooted in relationship, not behavior. If that were not the case, God could not be pleased with any of us. As the Psalmist says in Psalm 130: If you should [keep track of] iniquity, who could stand? God’s introduction of Jesus to the world was not “TA DA! Meet the Savior of the world!” but rather, “Here’s my Boy, in whom I am well pleased.” The Father delighted in His Son simply because He was His Son.

We have been bought with a price, not with silver or gold, but with Jesus’ very own blood, to secure that relationship. It was, after all, while we were yet sinners that Christ died for us. That’s how much we matter to Him. Do you believe that on a deep level? I know for me personally, it took me ending up in a place “I wouldn’t be caught dead” to really discover my true value to God.

                                                                                                                                                      tad

Memories of Mom 

Her children stand and bless her. Proverbs 31:28 

As I was driving to work today I passed by several flags displayed throughout my neighborhood. What’s the deal?—I thought. July 4th is three weeks away, and we just celebrated Memorial Day. Then it occurred to me—it’s flag day—June 14th, and immediately a smile came to my face. It was also my late mother’s birthday, and the running joke in our house was how the whole country honored her birthday by flying their flags. In the decades since she left this earth, I have come to understand how worthy of honor she really was, whether anyone else in the country knew it or not.

Her name betrayed the period of time and culture she came from…Edna Mae. As names go, I never really cared for it while she was alive, but since her passing, it has taken on a sweetness like few others. Born in 1925, she crammed a lot of life into her 53 years. Married at 18, a mother at 19, a grandmother at 46, her life seems to have been characterized by how much she did simply because she had to do it.

Though she loved her southern roots, she left her family and friends at age 20 and followed my dad to the bustling metropolis of Yale, South Dakota, population 150. Its tallest structure was the water tower. One of my earliest memories of my mom’s life was the piles of laundry that stalked her day after day. Since she lived in the day prior to wrinkle-free anything, every shirt, pair of pants, heck—every handkerchief(!) that my dad needed in his profession had to be washed in a washtub, rung out and hung out to dry, then starched and pressed for every day of the week. Add to that the clothing needs of six kids and her own clothes, and you have just written a full-time job description right there.

And where did this stay-at-home mom perform these duties? In various matchbox-sized parsonages, the largest one totaling 1500 sq. ft. (It was only after most of her children had “left the nest” that she and Dad were rewarded with a much larger, modern home. Go figure that one.) The first of these homes did not have indoor plumbing. For the first 17 years of mom’s married life, air circulation was created by the cross breeze of open windows, or perhaps a ceiling fan; air-conditioning was inconceivable, as were dishwashers, garbage disposals, washers and driers, much less first floor laundries, master bathrooms, carpeting, frost-free refrigerators, and Wal-Marts. (You’re thinking, “What was this, the Cro-Magnon period?”) For the rest of her life you can add to that list things like online banking, cell phones, computers, or a myriad of other conveniences the modern-day mother has available to her.

She didn’t have a lot of formal education, but was she full of wisdom. She was a tomboy as a child, but as a young woman her womb became the safe and tender incubator for five boys and one girl, all before her 28th birthday. In her seventh month of pregnancy with me, she required an emergency appendectomy. From that moment on, I gave up expecting to be her favorite. But she did know me. In a clan of six, I was still on her radar. She started every one of her children on a musical instrument. I was the only one she never allowed to quit. She taught me my first song, “Whispering Hope”, when I was five. She observed that though, like my siblings, I hated to practice, I seemed to gravitate to the piano to express my soul.

She was not a perfect woman, but I never heard profanity fall from her lips even once. (In retrospect, I wonder where all of those frustrating thoughts got processed.) Regardless, any slips of the tongue on my part were rewarded with a mouth washing—with soap. That practice did little to cleanse the heart, but it did raise a value and leave an impression.

One thing I have come to believe is that mothers are handpicked for us. In many ways, my mom could have been more nurturing, more emotionally connected. But she sought to toughen me up and round me out. She helped me to become more socially involved, pressed me into activities, sports, etc. which not only helped me to break free from the typical artist stereotype, but also brought me a lot of fun and a sense of accomplishment.

I remember her helping me transition from Christian elementary school to public junior high. When I came home from a football game with neighborhood kids at age 12, I was stressing over all the profanity I had heard. I went straight to my room and burst into tears. “I’m not going to school with those sinners,” I said. She would have none of it, and basically told me to wake up and smell the decaf. I can’t remember her exact words, but they went something like this: “This is the real world, son, and you better get used to it. No one ever died from hearing curse words, so learn to deal with it.” While she would never win any touchy-feely awards, it was, “like a word fitly spoken, an apple of gold.” (Proverbs 25:11) And you know what? She was right. I’m still alive.

As a child, I never went without a meal, lacked for clothing, attended church with unpolished shoes (or missed church for that matter, unless sick at home with a fever), felt unsafe or uncared for. Was I ever misunderstood?—sure. Did she ever hurt my feelings or wound my spirit?—of course. But she also taught me much about Jesus, encouraged me to sing in the church choir, even made a lame attempt at sex ed. I remember distinctly her showing me pictures in a doctor’s book of where babies come from, after I embarrassed her and her very pregnant sister by asking, “Why are you just fat in the stomach?”

After the discovery of colon cancer at age 52 and months of failed chemo treatments, she began preparing to die. In anticipation of her death, she wrote her own funeral service, beginning with “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” and ending with “How Great Thou Art.” Thirty three years later, I still miss her, admire her, and look forward to our reunion. 

Today I look back with gratitude for God’s personal selection of my mother. What about you? Good or bad, treasure or trial, they are the vessel our Creator God used to start us on the journey of a life with Him. To the degree that they reflected His image and kindness to us, we can count ourselves extremely blessed. And at whatever level they failed to demonstrate that and took from us more than they gave, perhaps God even used that to draw us more desperately to Him. The fact is that when He chose to reveal Himself to us in history, He selected the safety and security of a mother’s womb for His very own Son. Accepting His handpicked choice for our mother is the very first step toward learning to trust His judgment. When it comes to mothers, I have come to the conclusion that Father knows best.

Evidence that Demands a Verdict

O Happy Day is upon us. And here we are, some 2000 years after the first Easter, still preaching the resurrection of Christ as the unique and central core of our Christian faith. His coming back from the dead established once and for all that “He is” who He said He is—both God and Lord. C.S. Lewis said it best in Mere Christianity:

“I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about [Jesus]: “I’m ready to accept [Him] as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept His claim to be God.” That is the one thing we must not say. A man who said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic--on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg--or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or som thing worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.”


Need some evidence that Jesus is the risen Lord?

Resurrection Proof #1: The Empty Tomb of Jesus—The empty tomb may be the strongestproof Jesus Christ rose from the dead. Two major theories have been advanced by unbelievers: someone stole Jesus’ body or the women and disciples went to the wrong tomb. The Jews and Romans had no motive to steal the body. Christ’s apostles were too cowardly and would have had to overcome the Roman guards. The women who found the tomb empty had earlier watched Jesus being laid away; they knew where the correct tomb was. Even if they had gone to the wrong tomb, the Sanhedrin could have produced the body from the right tomb to stop the resurrection stories. Jesus’ burial cloths were left neatly folded inside, hardly the act of hurrying grave robbers. Angels said Jesus had risen from the dead.

Resurrection Proof #2: The Women Eyewitnesses—The women eyewitnesses are further proof that the Gospels are accurate historical records. If the accounts had been made up, no ancient author would have used women for witnesses to Christ’s resurrection. Women were second class citizens in Bible times; their testimony was not even allowed in court. Yet the Bible says the risen Christ first appeared to Mary Magdalene and other holy women. Even the apostles did not believe Mary when she told them the tomb was empty. Jesus, who always had special respect for these women, honored them as the first eyewitnesses to his resurrection. The male Gospel writers had no choice but to report this embarrassing act of God’s favor, because that was how it happened.

Resurrection Proof #3: Jesus’ Apostles’ New-Found Courage—After the crucifixion, Jesus’ apostles hid behind locked doors, terrified they would be executed next. But something changed them from cowards to bold preachers. Anyone who understands human character knows people do not change that much without some major influence. That influence was seeing their Master, bodily risen from the dead. Christ appeared to them in the locked room, on the shore of the Sea ofGalilee, and on the Mount of Olives. After seeing Jesus alive, Peter and the others left the locked room and preached the risen Christ, unafraid of what would happen to them. They quit hiding because they knew the truth. They finally understood that Jesus is God incarnate, who saves people from sin.

Resurrection Proof #4: The Changed Lives of James and Others—Changed lives are yet another proof of the resurrection. James, the brother of Jesus, was openly skeptical that Jesus was the Messiah. Later James became a courageous leader of the Jerusalem church, even being stoned to death for his faith. Why? The Bible says the risen Christ appeared to him. What a shock to see your own brother, alive again, after you knew he was dead. James and the apostles were effective
missionaries because people could tell these men had touched and seen the risen Christ. With such zealous eyewitnesses, the early church exploded in growth, spreading west from Jerusalem to Rome and beyond. For 2,000 years, encounters with the resurrected Jesus have changed lives.

Resurrection Proof #5: The Large Crowd of Eyewitnesses—A large crowd of more than 500 eyewitnesses saw the risen Jesus Christ at the same time. The Apostle Paul records this event in 1 Corinthians 15:6. He states that most of these men and women were still alive when he wrote this letter, about 55 A.D. Undoubtedly they told others about this miracle. Today,
psychologists say it would be impossible for a large crowd of people to have had the same hallucination at once. Smaller groups also saw the risen Christ, such as the apostles, and Cleopas and his companion. They all saw the same thing, and in the case of the apostles, they touched Jesus and watched him eat food. The hallucination theory is further debunked because after the ascension of Jesus into heaven, sightings of him stopped.

Resurrection Proof #6: The Conversion of Paul—The conversion of Paul records the most drastically changed life in the Bible. As Saul of Tarsus, he was an aggressive persecutor of the early church. When the risen Christ appeared to Paul on the Damascus Road, Paul became Christianity’s most determined missionary. He endured five floggings, three beatings, three shipwrecks, a stoning, poverty, and years of ridicule. Finally the Roman emperor Nero had Paul beheaded because the apostle refused to deny his faith in Jesus. What could make a person willingly accept—even welcome—such hardships? Christians believe the conversion of Paul came about because he encountered Jesus Christ who had risen from the dead.

of Christ is an historical fact. Tradition says ten of the original apostles died as martyrs for Christ, as did the Apostle Paul. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of early Christians died in the Roman arena and in prisons for their faith. Down through the centuries, thousands more have died for Jesus because they believed the resurrection is true. Even today, people suffer
persecution because they have faith that Christ rose from the dead. An isolated group may give up their lives for a cult leader who was later revealed to be a fraud, but no one willingly dies (much less violently) for someone they know to be a liar. For 2,000 years Christians have died in many lands, believing Jesus conquered death to give them eternal life.

Is the resurrection critical to our faith? Perhaps the apostle Paul said it best in 1 Corinthians 15: “…if Christ has not been raised, then your faith is useless and you are still guilty of your sins. In that case, all who have died believing in Christ are lost! And if our hope in Christ is only for this life, we are more to be pitied than anyone in the world. But in fact, Christ has been raised from the dead. He is the first of a great harvest of all who have died.” Now that’s something to celebrate! Let’s have a glorious Easter in anticipation of that even greater Resurrection Morn to come! O Happy Day!

Resurrection Proof #7: They Died for Jesus—Countless people have died for Jesus, absolutely certain that the resurrection of Christ is an historical fact. Tradition says ten of the original apostles died as martyrs for Christ, as did the Apostle Paul. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of early Christians died in the Roman arena and in prisons for their faith. Down through the centuries, thousands more have died for Jesus because they believed the resurrection is true. Even today, people suffer persecution because they have faith that Christ rose from the dead. An isolated group may give up their lives for a cult leader who was later revealed to be a fraud, but no one willingly dies (much less violently) for someone they know to be a liar. For 2,000 years Christians have died in many lands, believing Jesus conquered death to give them eternal life.

Is the resurrection critical to our faith? Perhaps the apostle Paul said it best in 1 Corinthians 15: “…if Christ has not been raised, then your faith is useless and you are still guilty of your sins. In that case, all who have died believing in Christ are lost! And if our hope in Christ is only for this life, we are more to be pitied than anyone in the world. But in fact, Christ has been raised from the dead. He is the first of a great harvest of all who have died.” Now that’s something to celebrate! Let’s have a glorious Easter in anticipation of that even greater Resurrection Morn to come! O Happy Day!

-tad

(Portions of this article excerpted from Jack Zavada’s Seven Proofs of the Resurrection)

Grace That Fits 'Just Right'

(Author’s Note: This article is a reprint, but one which might address our recent discussion and upcoming presentation of ‘Unredeemed.’ A key to looking for God’s activity in even the hard places of life is in knowing that his custom-fitted grace is always available to us…just for the asking.)

One of my favorite stories from childhood was about Goldilocks and the three bears. You remember…the one where the little blonde girl happens upon a house in the woods and ends up sitting in someone else’s chair, sampling someone else’s soup, and sleeping in someone else’s bed. If memory serves (and lately, I confess, it seems a tad overworked), the catch phrase in each of those situations was something like “this one is JUST RIGHT.” There was always something very satisfying about that statement, since to me it validated that little people, like big people, are individuals with different needs and different tastes. Never mind that blondie was breaking and entering. I identified with her curiosity, and, as a high J on the Meyers-Briggs personality inventory, I understood her need for closure before moving on to the next task.

As a child I was labeled a worrier, particularly by my mom. She often commented in my grade school years that I would have an ulcer at 15. What did I have to worry about? Well, for one thing, I was going to be getting this ulcer in a few years according to my mother. And then there were the monthly checkups to see if I had bitten my finger nails. If I was guilty (and, obviously, there was no hiding the evidence), I promptly received a spanking. (Not sure which was the cause and which was the effect in that case!)

But part of my anxiety was produced by witnessing sad, tragic or frightful things which happened to others and then projecting myself into their circumstances. Once, I got physically sick following a trip to the junk yard, where my father took me to view the wrecked remains of a car driven by a member of our church. Just seeing the steering wheel imbedded in the driver’s seat traumatized me, so vivid was my imagination.

And then there was the time, while in the back seat of my parents’ car, we happened past the local hospital, and I saw a poor man who had no arms or legs sitting upright in a wheelchair. At first horrified, my shock quickly moved to fear that someday I would be so handicapped…then to worry that I would be utterly helpless and totally dependent on others…and finally to despair that I would not be able to handle it and probably die.

The mental and emotional progression which seems almost humorous to me now was very real then, and I will never forget the comfort my mom brought me at that moment. She quietly reminded me that the man I saw in the wheel chair had just the grace he needed for that situation. The reason I couldn’t imagine handling the challenges he faced was because God wasn’t asking me to. And, I concluded that day, that whatever God allowed into my life would be accompanied by a custom-made grace that fit my particular circumstances “just right.”

One of Webster’s definitions of grace is simply “help given man by God.” Since I have concluded, like Goldilocks, that I am unique and that my life circumstances are similar to and yet unlike anyone else’s at any given moment, a “one size fits all” grace simply will not do. Rather, my loving Father tailor-makes the particular assistance, the comfort, the faith, and the ability I need to endure with joy whatever comes my way.

Have you ever found yourself looking at someone in grief or misery and saying to yourself, “I could never handle that,” “I would never survive that much pain,” or worse yet, “I would lose my faith.” In the Old Testament, Job’s wife tried to go there, and her conclusion was “curse God and die.” In the HISTORY’S WORST ADVICE category, we have a winner! I believe that reaction might come from an assumption that God is not very discriminating or particular in the type of care we need for life’s challenges. We might see this type of grace as just some nebulous, theological truism or the fatalistic reminder that this world is just ‘a vale of tears.’ But would any thinking, feeling person ever offer the same counsel and comfort to a person who had just become paralyzed as one would to a child who had just lost a fish? Both involve sensitivity, wisdom, and a grace that “just fits.”

So it is with our heavenly Father, who offers us precisely what we need when we need it to handle everything that life throws at us. Unlike His grace (undeserved love) that is universal and non-discriminating, offering forgiveness and new life to all who call upon Him, the grace that supports and tends to us in our daily struggles is always a custom-fit.

Until God redeems the life experiences which we wish had never happened, we have two choices: push Him away, clench our fists, and feel sorry for ourselves OR draw near to Him, open our hands, and receive His amazing, personalized grace for every situation. Sing with conviction this weekend! Many need to hear your message. For them, it will feel ‘just right.’

-tad

Let My People Laugh: The Sequel

Maybe it’s just me, but lately it seems we’re hearing a lot of prayer requests for health issues, everything from navigating safely through pregnancy all the way to the replacement of body parts. One conclusion that is irrefutable is that these bodies of ours do not carry an unlimited warranty. They do, eventually, break down and wear out. There is an expiration date on every one of them, so the delaying of that inevitability seems to occupy much of our time, even those of us who know that neither this earth nor our human frame is, ultimately, our eternal home.

So in the meantime, we exercise and we try to eat right, we take supplements, we try to get sufficient rest, and we try to follow our doctor’s advice, and we surf the internet to explain what ails us, even if, as Mark Twain once wrote: “Be careful about reading health books. You may die of a misprint.” Looked at another way, though, maybe getting older is not all that bad. After all, consider these perks:

Reporters interviewing a 104-year-old woman: “And what do you think is the best thing about being 104?” the reporter asked. She simply replied, “No peer pressure.”

Once the memory goes, you get to hide your own Easter eggs.

One senior mused: I sure have gotten old! I’ve had two bypass surgeries, a hip replacement, new knees. Fought prostate cancer and diabetes. I’m half blind, can’t hear anything quieter than a jet engine, take 40 different medications that make me dizzy, winded, and subject to blackouts. Have bouts with dementia. Have poor circulation; hardly feel my hands and feet anymore. Can’t remember if I’m 85 or 92 Have lost all my friends. But, thank goodness, I still have my driver’s license.

Another recalled: My memory’s not as sharp as it used to be. Also, my memory’s not as sharp as it used to be.

Maybe you’re not sure if any of this applies to you. But then that nagging little voice inside of you says, ‘you’re not getting any younger.’ Want a little test to help you know if you’re older than you think? Ponder these little irritations:

Everything hurts…and what doesn’t hurt doesn’t work.

You sit down in a rocking chair and can’t get it started.

Your back goes out more often than you do.

You’re really getting into swing dancing. Not on purpose.
Some parts of your body are just prone to swinging.

You finally get it all together, and then you can’t remember where you put it.

You notice you are starting to make the same noises as your coffeemaker.

Resisting temptation is not as hard as recognizing it.

Anything under a quarter isn’t worth bending over to pick up.

And the true litmus test for when you are really getting up in years: You no longer buy green bananas. Ultimately, we can relax in the truth that, as the psalmist says: [God] knows how weak we are; he remembers we are only dust. Our days on earth are like grass; like wildflowers, we bloom and die. (Psalm 103:14,15) We are all living in temporary housing…None of us, not even the healthiest of us, is guaranteed our next breath—that we will wake up tomorrow. James 4 says: “How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone. What you ought to say is, ‘If the Lord wants us to, we will live and do this or that.’ Otherwise you are boasting about your own plans, and all such boasting is evil.”

So in the meantime, beloved, let’s enjoy the ride, encourage each other, and keep a sense of humor about it all. Remember: You don’t stop laughing because you grow old, You grow old because you stop laughing. Have a great week and don’t forget to come out to support our drama team next Friday. You’ll be glad you did.

-tad

Let My People Laugh

As we prepare to enjoy an evening of laughter and fun put on by our drama department in two weeks, I have been musing (reflecting) on that whole concept in the life of a Christian. One of the first psalms I learned as a child was actually in the form of a song, a hymn actually. It was Psalm 100, and it began, “All people that on earth do dwell.” Most of it made sense to my 3 ½ lbs of brain until I got to the line, “Him serve with mirth, His praise forthtell.” Not exactly elementary age street slang! I had not a clue what mirth was...thought it might be a derivative of ‘mercy’, but requiring a lisp. When I found out it actually means great joy, it made more sense, even if the preponderance of German Lutherans around me seemed a bit lacking in it! From my trusty Thesaurus, I learned that synonyms for ‘mirth’ are even more intriguing: everything from cheerfulness, hilarity, hysteria, kicks, revelry—all the way to my personal favorite—whoopee!

Think of it—Him serve with whoopee! When was the last time you were asked to serve in some capacity and your response was whoopee!??? But that is exactly the goal of the Christian life…not only to follow Christ and serve one another, but to get to the point where it is our joy!!! It becomes a “get to”, rather than a “have to.”

Here are some scattered thoughts about joy and laughter from the Bible…

1. Timing is everything:

To everything there is a season: A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance. Ecclesiastes 3:4

2. God Himself enjoys a good laugh:

He who sits in the heavens laughs; the Lord holds them in derision. Psalm 2:4 (Remember that famous one-liner: “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.”)

The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. Zephaniah 3:17

3. God is the joy-giver:

He will yet fill your mouth with laughter, and your lips with shouting. Job 8:21

Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; then they said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.” Psalm 126:2

You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there
is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore. Psalm 16:11

You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound. Psalm 4:7
4. God prescribes laughter for our well-being:

A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones. Proverbs 17:22

A glad heart makes a cheerful face, but by sorrow of heart the spirit is crushed. Proverbs 15:13

5. Sarcasm has its place, but not all laughter is helpful to the human spirit:

And at noon Elijah mocked them, saying, “Cry aloud, for he is a god. Either he is musing, or he is relieving himself, or he is on a journey, or perhaps he is asleep and must be awakened.” 1 Kings 18:27

Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving. Ephesians 5:4

6. True joy is a choice:

Yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. Habakkuk 3:18

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Philippians 4:4

As a worship community, we have gone on record to say we want to be a place of safety, pursuing excellence, growing deeper in the things of God. Let’s resolve to also be known as a people of infectious joy, who love what they do and who love to laugh. Let’s serve our Savior with a little more Whoopee!!!

-tad

Worship Can Be Hazardous to Your Health

One of my favorite teachers on the subject of worship is Pastor Jack Hayford from Church on the Way in Van Nuys, CA. This week I am excerpting a portion from “A Man’s Worship and Witness” where Jack gives his own unique spin on one of the very first worshiping communities—Cain & Abel (see Genesis 4).

Soiled hands placed vegetables in a tidy arrangement on the rock altar. Cain felt proud of his display. His brother, Abel, had begun assembling his own offering hours ago and still wasn’t done. Cain was. All Cain did was walk into his garden and pull up the fine specimens out of the ground. They had grown all by themselves. And the garden was close by. It all seemed so easy. A smug smile curled Cain’s lips. His brother- still searching out in the fields for an offering- was laboring for nothing, Cain mused. He looked again upon the grand, colorful altar. There it was. Vegetables. On the altar. Easy.

This being one of his first offerings, Cain wondered what exactly was to happen next. Pondering this, he sat on a nearby stone and waited. He looked over at this brother’s altar just as Abel came through the bushes carrying several ewe lambs. It wasn’t long before the lambs were mounted on Abel’s altar and slain. Cain noticed that Abel’s altar was smaller than his. Good. Having sacrificed the animals on the altar, Abel walked several paces back and knelt in prayer. Cain felt uneasy. He hadn’t done that. But he comforted himself by observing that Abel’s altar was blood-stained and dirty, while his was neat, tidy and colorful: orange and red and yellow and green and – just then: Whoosh! Brilliant flames from out of nowhere- from another realm- licked up all of Abel’s sacrifice! All of it! Cain jumped to his feet. A few ashes drifted in the breeze. The colorful harvest on Cain’s altar remained defiantly the same- unchanged. Nothing happened to his. Cain stormed off, angered and pouting. And it was later, as his tormented mind seethed with hatred and jealousy, that the Lord met him near a tall palm tree: “Why are you angry? And why has your countenance fallen? If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if do not do well, sin lies at the door. And its desire is for you, but you should rule over it” (Genesis 4:6,7). Shortly, Cain’s competitive jealousy grew to such intolerable levels that he rose in fury to kill his brother, Abel. And thus, the record teaches us: the first murder was born in the heart of a man who resisted God’s ways of worship. The first victim of violence was a man who worshiped God physically, openly, and freely.

Personally I am challenged by this story…not only from the original text, but also by the way Hayford has drawn applications for us as a worshiping community. From this, I have come up with my own Top Ten List of takeaways:

1. As we bring an offering to God (ourselves), He wants all of us, not just what is comfortable or convenient.

2. Nothing less than our very best is really worthy of God.

3. He doesn’t require what He does not provide.

4. Man looks at the outside—God looks at the heart.

5. No true act of worship can be separated from the need for the shedding of blood. Either we return to the old animal sacrificial system- or we adopt God’s new covenant offer of the life of His son. (Without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness. - Hebrews 9:22)

6. Uncontested spiritual warfare can be deadly. For the time being, Cain, an enemy of true worship, succeeded in quelling the sacrifice of praise offered by his brother. But unlike Abel, we are not left alone to be victimized by the Enemy in his effort to silence our praise. This is why we often pray that God would “bind the enemy” (Mark 3:27) prior to our worship experiences. We believe the One who is in us is greater than the one who is “in the world.”)

7. If we allow our worship to go public, it will impact others. Some might be blessed and encouraged. Others will begin to pull away from us or, worse, try to discredit us.

8. As Abel learned, worshiping freely with abandon in public places can be hazardous to your health! At the very least it can result in you being judged, ridiculed, less popular. Kind of like Jesus.

9. In the end, warring over whose worship is more Christian or appropriate or godly still misses the mark. As wrong as Cain was, he still was not beyond redemption. The writer to the Hebrews reminds us, “You have come to Jesus, the one who mediates the new covenant between God and people, and to the sprinkled blood, which speaks of forgiveness instead of crying out for vengeance like the blood of Abel.”

10. Sincere and God-focused worship touches His very heart! (“The Lord looked with favor on Abel and his offering...” 4:4)

Bottom line? May our ultimate goal be to bring pleasure to the One who alone is worthy, no matter what the cost. Can I get an Amen?!?

-tad

Learning Through Listening

(As an addendum to this article, I would encourage you to reread Blending the Generations (Value 9) from Sweet Sixteen: A study of the core values of the Worship and Arts Ministry of Hope Church, available upon request.)
Since my youth, God, you have taught me, and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds. Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, my God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your mighty acts to all who are to come. {Psalm 71:16-18}

Years ago, I sat in my father’s living room, watching him as he faced the final days of his life. I remember struggling for words to comfort him as he dealt with loss of health, two wives, his ministry, his self- reliance, and worst of all—the vitality of his faith. After listening to him for several hours, I chose to read a portion of Psalm 71 to him and noted the irony. Here I was, the “next generation”, declaring to the previous generation (my dad) the mighty acts of God. And in my mind, turnabout was fair play. I can’t count the times in my life he had instructed me in the faith, encouraged me to trust God, and to trust Him fully with the uncertainty of my future. It only seemed fitting in his last days that I remind him of what he had taught me.

At Hope, we are entering a season of listening to and learning from each other across generations. The pastoral lead team, along with elders, have been studying One Church, Four Generations by Gary L McIntosh together to better understand not only how to communicate with one another, but also how to work together more effectively as the body of Christ. I am praying that each one of you will be a part of this dialogue, attending as many of the scheduled forums as you can. (A reminder that this week’s Builders meeting has been moved to February 26th because of last Sunday’s canceled services).

The way of the world is to isolate or group according to affinity, interest or demographics. Many churches have basically given up trying to do anything intergenerational, especially worship, but we at Hope are asking if this is not another example of letting the world squeeze us into its own mold (Rom 12:1,2).

Let’s be clear. There is nothing wrong with individuality and organizing activities around common interests…until it begins to contradict your basic message of love and unity. Jesus told us exactly how the world would know that He had come—that we have (genuine) love for one another. How does that love happen? Not without dialogue. Not without understanding or empathy. And not, on occasion, without compromise.

We in the worship community have a unique opportunity to lead the charge on this vision. Each week we are entrusted with the privilege and chance to help lead God’s people in the most unifying (potentially, at least) event of their week. We don’t all dress alike, listen to the same music, have the same amount of education or income, attend the same movies or prefer the same political candidates. But worship is that one experience which is supposed to center us on the One in whose very image each of us has been made and for whose very glory we have been created. Think about that: each of us— young and old alike, Republicans and Democrats, rich and poor, black and white, sick and well, technical wizards and technical illiterates, has been made to reflect God. Jesus called us the very salt of the earth, the light of the world. Can you think of a better way to be reminded of that than to engage in a regular activity which celebrates what we share in common, not what distinguishes us?

Want a big dream? Then imagine Hope church being known as a place where all generations worship together, demonstrate a growing love for each other and an increasing respect for one another’s life view. It’s part of the vision of Hope’s staff and elders for all of us to begin living out a more common life together as a witness to others. It’s definitely not the way of the world. But it is, we truly believe, the way of the Word. Hope each of you will join us on this adventure.

The Power of A Moment

Three weeks ago, I spoke about the new movie, In Time, a futuristic thriller which imagines a society where time is the currency and life becomes a never-ending quest to acquire more of
it. Two weeks ago, Deb and I saw the movie. One observation: there’s a lot of running in this movie. And why not? It’s about time, and time is always running out. Then Sunday, Pastor Stephen referred to it in his message (no, we are not getting residuals), so once again I reflected
on the implications. I thought of a song Chris Rice wrote years ago, entitled “The Power of a
Moment.” The chorus went like this:

You know the number of my days So come paint Your pictures on the canvas in my head And come write Your wisdom on my heart Teach me the power of a moment.

These words suggest that we don’t naturally default to placing a high value on time. The One who has ordained the number of our days has to teach us to live in the moment. Left to ourselves, we tend to live as if time will never run out. Much like the makeup opportunities we
have for everything from missed piano lessons to college entrance exams, we assume that we can always do just about anything later.

The prophet Isaiah warned: “Seek the Lord while He may found; call on Him while He is near.”
The apostle Paul reiterates this in 2 Corinthians 6:2 “In the time of my favor, I heard you, and
in the day of salvation I helped you.” I tell you, now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day
of salvation.” If none of us can really control how much time we have left, then what we can
choose to do is make the most of what we have—namely, this moment! Honestly, we don’t
even have the rest of today, tomorrow, or next week guaranteed to us. I think about a friend
I had, back in my College Hill days, who was picnicking with his wife and two young children,
suffered an aneurism, and died before he hit the grass under the table. My point is not to be
maudlin or to scare you into action. It’s to encourage you to maximize each moment God gives
you.

Think back to your childhood. For a moment, don’t reflect on periods of time (my first summer
camp experience, my favorite Christmas, the year my parents split up, etc.). Instead, let your
mind lock in to certain specific moments that have really had an impact on you. For many, if
not all, of you, it might be the day you received Christ as your Savior and Lord. Maybe it was
the birth of your first child, or the day you left home. For others, it could be a historic event,
such as the day JFK or Martin Luther King were assassinated, or the day the space shuttle
Challenger exploded before our very eyes.

But what about those moments which seemingly came out of nowhere which not only impacted
you but also really shaped who you are today or how you look at life? I still remember my Aunt
Millie cupping my face in her hands and telling me I had “smiling eyes.” I think I was nine. I still
remember it like it was yesterday. And yet there was an even more powerful moment in my
childhood which left an indelible print on my mind and heart. It involved my mother and me. It
was not planned. It was not pretty. But it was profound.

Our family of eight lived in a small parsonage (preacher’s home owned by the church) in
Aberdeen, South Dakota. The smallest room in the house, other than the one bathroom,
was the kitchen. It was separated from the dining room by a swinging door. On one special
occasion when we were preparing to have company for dinner, I was helping set the table
(don’t think too highly of this action—I’m sure it was conscripted service). I remember being
in a bit of a hurry, and as I rushed into the kitchen for more tableware, I swung the door into
my mother, who was standing on the other side holding a bowl of beans. Like I said, it was not
pretty. Nor was her reaction. She screamed at me, and I, being the young stud that I was, ran
screaming up the stairs to my bedroom. Soon after, I was summoned back to the kitchen to
my mom’s waiting arms for a big hug and an apology for her tirade. She admitted that it was
obvious I was only trying to help.

In truth, I believe that moment was so powerful mainly because her physical gesture of
approval was so rare. She had a very difficult time expressing those kinds of tender emotions,
having grown up in the home of an abusive, alcoholic father. And yet in a moment, she
decided to swallow her pride and dial into my pain. In a moment, she modeled the need for
even big people to admit their faults to little people. And she chose to kneel down, make a
physical connection, and reassure me of her love, even when time was running out before our
guests arrived.

Are moments powerful? Chris concludes his song with these words:

I get so distracted by my bigger schemes Show me the importance of the simple things Like a word, a seed, a thorn, a nail And a cup of cold water.

Who in your sphere of influence needs an encouraging word from you today? Who needs a cup
of cold water? Who needs to hear that thorns and nails were endured on their behalf by a
loving Savior? Look around. Don’t miss…better yet, take full advantage of the power of a
moment.

-tad

Something Smells To High Heaven

When I first heard this quaint little idiom, I think my mom was referring to 1) the room I shared with three other brothers, 2) my sock drawer, or 3) a carry out order I had forgotten about in the trunk of my dad’s ’58 Pontiac. Regardless, I sensed immediately it was not a compliment! That’s the thing about odors and fragrances…they don’t keep a secret very well. They tend to make whatever causes them to go public very quickly.

Throughout God’s word, fragrance is used to signify an offering or outpouring of worship to God, either through a sacrificial act of obedience or an expression of deep devotion. King David knew this when he wrote, “Let my prayer be set before You as incense, the lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice.” (Psalm 141:2). Here the image of prayer as a fragrance is used metaphorically to describe something sweet that rises to God from our hearts when we draw near to Him.

A more literal example of the aroma of worship is found in the New Testament in the gospel of John. It is the familiar story of Mary anointing Jesus as a PDA, one which elicited responses of praise and disgust from those in attendance.

Six days before the Passover celebration began, Jesus arrived in Bethany, the home of Lazarus—the man he had raised from the dead. A dinner was prepared in Jesus’ honor. Martha served, and Lazarus was among those who ate with him. Then Mary took a twelve-ounce jar of expensive perfume made from essence of nard, and she anointed Jesus’ feet with it, wiping his feet with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance.

But Judas Iscariot, the disciple who would soon betray him, said, “That perfume was worth a year’s wages. It should have been sold and the money given to the poor.” Not that he cared for the poor—he was a thief, and since he was in charge of the disciples’ money, he often stole some
for himself.

Jesus replied, “Leave her alone. She did this in preparation for my burial. You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.”
{ John 12:1-8 NLT }

To the object of her affection, Mary’s gift was a sweet smelling aroma which filled the room and publically announced that this Man’s life and love were worthy of costly adoration. To the hypocritical onlookers, it was a stench which reeked of wastefulness and self-indulgence. Surely there were more worthy beneficiaries (the poor, perhaps their own coffers) than this commoner from Nazareth. Isn’t it interesting how quickly we move to judgment of others’ expressions of devotion when they seem to surpass or even call into question our own? (I recall Pastor Bill’s comments on Sunday about the maniacs and idiots we encounter on the highway.)

Then there are the application passages which speak of our very lives being a fragrance to God, much like the life of Jesus himself, whose obedience was received by His father as a kind of incense. Paul writes to the Ephesian Christians: “Live a life filled with love, following the example of Christ. He loved us and offered himself as a sacrifice for us, a pleasing aroma to God. “ (Ephesians 5:2 NLT)

And like most fragrances, we can expect different reactions from different recipients. To the church at Corinth, Paul wrote: “But thank God! He has made us his captives and continues to lead us along in Christ’s triumphal procession. Now he uses us to spread the knowledge of Christ everywhere, like a sweet perfume. Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those who are being saved and by those who are perishing. To those who are perishing, we are a dreadful smell of death and doom. But to those who are being saved, we are a life-giving perfume.” (2 Corinthians 2:14-16 NLT)

As we enter our third week of the Advent Conspiracy, we have been challenged to worship fully, spend less, and to give lavishly during this prep time for Christmas. I pray that we could free each other to follow God’s leading in how that looks for each of us. Let’s not, as the Pharisees did, second guess the motives or amounts of anyone’s offering to God. What we choose to give to others must always spill out of us as an overflow of the amazing gift poured into us by God, through His very own Son. What comes from that can only smell to high heaven. Sweet!!!

-tad

What Not To Wear

You may recognize the phrase “What Not to Wear” as the name of a popular cable TV show which finds seemingly ugly ducklings with frumpy dressing habits and transforms them into chic swans. The premise is simple: take one ‘lucky’ candidate (selected, by the way, by close friends and/or family members), put ‘em through fashion boot camp, give them a $5,000 credit card and turn them loose on a shopping spree, and voila! —they are transformed into a more acceptable, less embarrassing part of mainstream society.

One of the criticisms leveled at this “helpful” show is that it spends the first 10 minutes dismantling the self esteem of its chosen “project” before attempting to reconstruct her. They mock their clothes, shoes, hairstyle, etc., even while trying to affirm the inner or essential beauty of these fashion failures. But what do they really know of these persons’ inner lives—their character, struggles, and values? And why should they? Our fashion experts are merely ‘qualified’ to assess the “outside of the cup.” (Matt. 23:25) By connecting one’s wardrobe to their personal worth or value (even the approval of their friends and family), the viewer is left with the conclusion that it really is important to know what not to wear.

So does what we wear really matter all that much in the grand scheme of things? Throughout history, greater minds than mine have landed on both sides of the fence on this one. One ancient proverb states: “A pretty face and fine clothes do not make character.” On the other hand, a very quotable ancient Latin proverbcontends: “clothes make the man.” The great humorist Mark Twain later modified that statement a bit, writing: “Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.”

Sadly, this is not how God intended it to be. He made His creation to live unashamed, wearing nothing at all but their ‘birthday suit’. Still, ever since our first parents lost their innocence through the fall, we have been trying to find just the right clothes to cover our bodies. I say right clothes, because what Adam quickly learned was that clothes may make the man, but not just any clothes will do. He discovered all too soon what not to wear—namely, leaves—even big fig ones. They have a habit of drying up, shriveling up and eventually giving up any secrets they initially might hide. (The prophet Isaiah, writing to God’s prideful people, observed that “we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away.” Isaiah 64:6b) It wasn’t until God himself fashioned skins for our first family that mankind began to understand that not all clothes are created equal. Those first ‘outfits’ were anything but cheap either, having been acquired at the price of some poor animal’s life, by the shedding of blood.

But those first skins were but a foretaste of a much more miraculous makeover that God had in store for us. He knew in advance that our wardrobe required something more permanent than physical clothes, our sin and shame something more holistic than mere window dressing. The prophet Isaiah discovered this hundreds of
years before the birth of Christ when he wrote:

I will greatly rejoice in the LORD, My soul shall be joyful in my God; For He has clothed me with the garments of salvation, He has covered me with the robe of righteousness, As a bridegroom decks himself with ornaments, And as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.
{Isaiah 61:10 - NKJV}

This passage is, as Pastor Mike Tabor explained last Sunday, a legal statement for the Christian, for those who throw themselves completely on the mercy of Jesus for their salvation. The garment of salvation is put on us by God himself, not something we design, that we sew, or put on ourselves. So it is with the robe of righteousness. We are declared righteous because God has punished all our sin when Jesus became sin for us. It, too, is custom designed, purchased, and put on us by our loving Heavenly Father when we trust Christ. We are declared saved...righteous.

Pastor Mike went on to say that we don’t just live in the legal…we also wrestle with the practical side of this life every day, every moment. And for that, we are also provided a wonderful wardrobe, which we ourselves get to choose. It’s like having that $5,000 credit card to buy that which we could never afford or supply ourselves. Ponder this makeover:

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.” {Colossians 3:12-14}

Are you and I compassionate, kind, humble, gentle and patient by nature? No, but through the Spirit we can put on these divine qualities. Can you and I produce agape (unconditional) love on our own? We don’t have to. Put it on.

So, at the end of the day, knowing what not to wear is actually pretty important. For instance, don’t wear leaves (self-made attempts to hide your sin and shame). Don’t wear your own self-determined value system (all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment—Isaiah 64:6a-ESV). But from this point on, determine to enjoy the garment bought for you with the very blood of Christ (yours legally) and the clothes made possible for you through the work of the Holy Spirit (yours practically). It may not get you on a cable TV show, but you can sleep well at night knowing God’s got you covered.

-tad

It's About Time

I saw an interesting movie trailer the other night for In Time, a thriller starring Justin Timberlake. What intrigued me was the premise: a future society where the ultimate currency is not money, not land, but time. According to early reviews, “in the not-too-distant future, scientists have discovered a way to turn off the aging gene. As the threat of overpopulation looms over society, money becomes a thing of the past. Now, assets are measured in time; those with the most time also possess the most power. Meanwhile, the lower classes are forced to barter with the new elite if they want to live forever.”

Don’t know that I’ll ever see the movie, but the concept is compelling. And it rings true. What we all wish we had more of is time. Time to get stuff done. Time to go here and there. Time to stay busy. And certainly, more time to relax. What appears to be most elusive in this frenzied, not enough time, society is rest. Not a yoga, hmmmmmm-type relaxation, but what the Word refers to as stillness, the ceasing of striving. Rest. And there is much in the Word to establish the importance of resting, of finding rest…of actually pursuing rest.

Psalm 46:10 reminds us to “Be still and know that I am God.”

Psalm 62 says “My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken. Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. “

Luke 10:38-42 illustrates the restful posture of Mary, as compared to the busy, but un-peaceful, attitudeof sister Martha.

Hebrews 4: 9-11 cautions: “There remains, then a Sabbath-rest for the people of God. For anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from His. Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest, so that no one will fall by following their examples of disobedience.”

These are but a few of the references that are the basis for this week’s choir special.

‘Til They Rest in You

Comes an honest moment when each heart looks inside
Finding nothing here on earth truly satisfies
Some choose to ignore the ache, some confess it’s true
God, our hearts will have no peace ‘til they rest in You

Ev’ry pleasure, ev’ry thrill never is enough
Every trophy, even gold, simply turns to dust
Most still search to find real joy yet they never do
God, our hearts will have no peace ‘til they rest in You

We yearn, we thirst, we stumble in the dark
Discontent, for You’ve set eternity within each heart.

Thank You for my desperate days, feeling incomplete
Thank You for Your loving ways, leading me to see
Jesus You are all I need, nothing else will do
God, our hearts will have no peace ‘til they rest in You

Lord help me to live to reach others with this truth:
God, our hearts will have no peace ‘til they rest in You.

Resting in God is less about relaxing and more about relinquishing. The writer to the Hebrews tells us that “anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from His.” Tired of striving? Tired of working for fulfillment, acceptance, significance? How about waving the white flag of surrender?

Take time. Make time. Put intentional space into your day or week to meet with God and consciously give Him your stress and weariness. And then take Jesus at his word in this busy season: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11: 28)

-tad

It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

What’s that, you say? Isn’t that a Christmas song? In September??? Well, for several of us on the worship and arts staff, Christmas actually started the day after Easter! And in anticipation
of another December outreach project, we’ve been on the lookout and the listen-out for what unique way God might bring this timeless message to our community through the arts. Last year, our program, “The Wonder of Christmas,” was actually conceived by the song that brought it all together—Love Divine, All Loves Excelling. It was our starting point and it became the climactic exclamation point to the entire presentation.

This year’s program, entitled Unwrapping Christmas, was hatched in two ways, through the lyrics of a composer, Bob Kauflin, and the special insights of pastor and author, Jack Hayford. Twenty years ago, Kauflin penned these provocative phrases in a song entitled In the First Light:

In the first light of a new day no one knew He had arrived
Things continued as they had been while a new born softly cried.
But the heavens wrapped in wonder
knew the meaning of His birth
In the weakness of a baby they knew God had come to earth.
As His mother held him closely, it was hard to understand
That her baby not yet speaking was the Word of God to man.
He would tell them of His kingdom,
but their hearts would not believe
They would hate Him and in anger they would nail Him to a tree.
But the sadness would be broken as the song of life arose
And the First born of creation would ascend and take his throne.
He has left it to redeem us, but before His life began
He knew He´d come back not as a baby
but as The Lord of every man.
Hear the angels as they´re singing on the morning of His birth
But how much greater will our song be when He comes again
But how much greater will our song be
when He comes again to Earth
When He comes to rule the Earth!

And quoting from pastor and author Jack Hayford (from Moments with Majesty):

Christmas month begins. And again I find myself wanting to reach out to help people who can’t, by themselves, ‘unwrap’ Christmas. It is, you know, “wrapped” for many…

…wrapped in the bandages of bygone hurts and disappointments,
…wrapped in the plastic of sophistication which prohibits childlike wonder,
…wrapped in the tinsel of materialistic binge,
…wrapped in the confetti and streamers of empty partying,
…wrapped in the busy-getting-ready preparations,
..wrapped in the artistically designed whisky box of bombed-out,so-called “celebrations.”

The “wrappings” listed are not necessarily reflective of one’s current hindrance, but rather, the cluttered residue of a person’s private history. They are the wadded packagings of Christmases
ruined in other times, at other places. Sadly, the impact carries on, souring year after year. I’m speaking of people…

- who had heartbreak one Yuletide, and now always associate the season with that tearful memory,
- who have been burned out over family stresses surrounding
the holidays, so that
now these days are dreaded instead of anticipated with joy,
- who became wearied with the carnality of superficial gift giving when love seldom attended the presents, and now wince at the idea of Christmas shopping

Confronting those ghouls of past pain, I pray with you: “Father, forgive us our Christmases, as we forgive those who ‘Christmased’ against us.” And I say, “Be free, dear one!”

Through Jesus – the Babe become King, the Son become Lord, the Child become Christ – in His mighty Name, lay hold of this festal day with rejoicings. Refuse to let the Prince of Darkness
smother the Season of Light. The one who sought to murder the Baby of Bethlehem now seeks to ruin your celebration of His coming. Resist him with all the strength your Lord provides.
Be untied. Be unfettered. Be unwrapped. Take my hands, and together…let’s dance toward Christmas!

In just two weeks, we get to begin the dance toward Christmas again—together. New faces and voices will join us; new songs and scripts await us. But the awesome treasure of good news is
the same as last year and every year since the very first Christmas. And though it is the same, it seems to get sweeter and more desperately needed each year as darkness increases all around.
Musicians and technicians, let’s begin now to anticipate God’s special visitation this season, long before others even know it’s here, as we prepare and pray and ponder.

'Til We Meet Again, Bob.

This week we lost a beloved brother in Christ, Bob Worth, a devoted man of faith who reflected joy and love to all who knew him. His smile could light up a room, even in his last, often pain-filled days. His desire was to go home to his Lord and his wife Carol, who preceded him in death. Still he patiently waited for that release. Still he encouraged those who came to visit him, and listened attentively to words from scripture and lyrics to familiar hymns and praise songs. He was sincere to the end. He was the real deal. And while he will be missed terribly, all that knew and loved him longed for his homecoming.

How mysterious is this paradox we as Christians encounter, when, with the apostle Paul, we come to that point in life when we say “for me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. I am torn between the two:I desire to be with Christ which is better by far, but it is necessary for you that I remain in the body.” (Phil. 1:21ff). Bob understood his life was not his own. He had been bought with a price. His days had been ordained and number by his Creator. And it was his Heavenly Father’s decision as to when that homecoming would take place.

I know that I never left a visit with him without feeling personally challenged and strengthened because of his great faith. The fruit of the Spirit oozed from him. Even in his discomfort, I often had to remind him, “It’s OK to close your eyes and sleep, Bob. I will just sit here quietly with you.” Even in those moments he sought to be attentive to his company, to be a good listener.

Now that he is “gone,” I—we, too, experience an emotional paradox. Sadness and joy. I used to think Juliet said it best in Shakespeare’s classic Romeo and Juliet: “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” She was merely anticipating a momentary absence from her beloved Romeo. She fully expected to see him again, and soon. But then I read the words of John the apostle in Revelations 14, and concluded that his description wins the prize.

“And I heard a voice from heaven saying to me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from now on: Yes, said the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors; and their works do follow them.”

Though perhaps no reality associated with the human race frightens us more or is more mysterious than death, John calls those who die in the Lord blessed. And for obvious reasons. In death, we are finally at rest. We cease our striving. Our struggles are over. And we are fully in God’s presence—we are with the Lord. He no longer is experienced where we are (condescension) but rather where He is (ascension).

The reference to our works following us reminds us of (at least) two realities: 1) only those things which were born of the Spirit, that had eternal significance, will accompany us into the next life and 2) those seeds sown by us in the Spirit to others will continue to grow and bear fruit in them for generations—our legacy. The phrase “you can’t take it with you” is not entirely true. 1 Corinthians 3:10-15 says otherwise.

But facing our last hours on this earth does have a way of focusing us on what parts of life have lasting value. It is not “the one who dies with the most toys wins.” After all, toys or not, 100% of the human race ends up dead, sooner or later.

This week, we were reminded that, for one who faithfully served among us, and for all believers, suffering, pain, and loss are only temporary—only a part of this life. What endures forever is peace with God, joy in His presence, and sweet reunion with those who loved Him and have gone before us. As we celebrate the life and homecoming of Bob Worth, may each of us pray with the Psalmist: Teach us to number our days that we might apply our hearts to wisdom. (Psalm 90)

-tad