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] iniquities, 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

Pastor's Point: The Power of a Moment

Have you ever wondered what you’re going to be when you grow up?  Whether you’re an adult or not, many of us struggle with this question throughout our life.  Part of it is this: as fallen creatures, made in the image of God, we intuitively know we are in process.  But also contributing to our restlessness is an awareness that even while time is marching on, we are prone to devalue or even waste it.  Christian songwriter Chris Rice expressed it this way:

What am I gonna be when I grow up?
How am I gonna make my mark in history?
And what are they gonna write about me when I’m gone?
These are the questions that shape the way I think about what matters

               

But I have no guarantee of my next heartbeat
And my world’s too big to make a name for myself
And what if no one wants to read about me when I’m gone?
Seems to me that right now’s the only moment that

matters

The chorus of this song, “The Power of a Moment,” 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 be 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, in the earlier days of my ministry, who was picnicking with his wife and two young children, suffered an aneurysm, 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 (your first summer camp experience, your favorite Christmas, the year your 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