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

Pastor's Point: Who Moved My Cheese?

SHIFT HAPPENS.  It’s been said that the most dependable aspect of life in these times is that things change.  Somebody “moves our cheese.”  Shift happens.  Just when we think we’ve got all our life neatly organized (right!), something changes.  Sometimes, it’s really big.  A boss says the company needs you in another city.  Or another department.  Or not at all.  A child leaves the “nest” for school or a life on their own.  A spouse walks away.  A doctor gives a not-so-welcome prognosis.  Worse, someone we love dies.  This shifting happens even in the church.  Worship styles change.  New staff come and go.  Different kinds of people start showing up.  We are asked to share the role we once thought was uniquely ours. 

For me, as a creative person, I usually greet change with excitement, enthusiasm.  But not too long ago, I experienced a change in my life that rocked me more than I care to admit.  The little 5½  dog that shared life with Deb and me for 15 years, needed to be put down.  And “Sammie” was no ordinary dog (I know we all say that).  She was like a furry angel God placed in our life for the very reason of providing stability and unconditional love through the many changes we would navigate during her lifetime.  Her death left a bigger hole in my heart than I imagined was possible from a non-human.  Occasionally, she still shows up in my dreams.  Our house feels different.  It’s a noticeable shift, and one which will never return to the way it was.

As a person living in an increasingly unstable and changing world, I am beginning to weary of it a bit, seeing more and more of change as not so much for the better, but just because we can change.  Technology is shrinking our world and enabling us to get places faster, do things cheaper, and do whatever we can dream.  In fact, human kind appears to be growing more and more restless.  So I find myself simultaneously excited and uneasy.  Stimulated, but suspicious.  Eager, and yet a bit dreadful. 

Where do we turn, when, as the ancient hymn writer once wrote, “every earthly prop gives way?”  Lately, I’ve been finding comfort in Psalm 34, penned by another artistic type, King David himself. 

I will extol the Lord at ALL times. His praise will always be on my lips.  My soul will boast in the Lord: let the afflicted hear and rejoice.  Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt His name together.  I sought the Lord, and He answered me; He delivered me from all my fears.  Those who look to Him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.”

From these five little verses, my 3½ lbs of brain conclude:  I need encouragement, I need a community, I need faith.  Or better said, WE need encouragement.  WE need community.  WE need faith.  If I am to be delivered from all my fears, I need to be urged forward, to keep joining myself with others, and to keep trusting the One who is the same Yesterday, Today, and Forever.  And so do you.

Who are the ones in your life that God consistently uses to do just that in your life through their encouragement, their friendship, their faith?  Take a moment to thank God for their part in your life. Better yet, drop them a note, an email, a text message and let them know how God is using them to help ground you, when so many things in life are shifting.  It may come in handy the next time someone moves your cheese.                                                                                                                                                              tad       

Pastor’s Point: Food for thought

The wisest of kings once wrote: “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver.” Solomon recorded his thoughts in the Old Testament book of Proverbs, and even a cursory reading of its contents gives evidence of their timeless value. What we say matters, and as those who sing a lot of words over the course of time, we would do well to weigh their importance in our song selection for corporate worship.

Here’s a question: Generally speaking, what draws you to a piece of vocal music first—the lyrics or the musical content? For some, it is a provocative melody or a funky or driving beat. For others, it is the turn of a phrase, an expressed thought that seems to resonate with one’s reality at the moment. I remember years ago hearing a tune by Billy Joel called Honesty. It contained a cryptic chorus:

“Honesty is such a lonely word.

Everyone is so untrue.

Honesty is hardly ever heard.

And mostly what I need from you.”

I recall the song really “grabbing” me at the time, because it was part of my experience at that moment.

By contrast, I can remember songs that I used to love to listen to or even dance to (yes, they danced during the Cro-Magnon age!) because of their beat, only to be surprised later to realize I was moving to some pretty raunchy or dubious lyrics.

What’s the point? Music has the power to engage us on a very visceral and emotional level, sometimes because of the message it communicates and other times simply by how it makes us feel. Put in the wrong hands, it can be a very manipulative and even destructive influence. But used judiciously and for a higher purpose, it can lift us, inspire us, comfort us. Look at the lyrics to this simple praise song:

This is the Day

Father, I am weary; I am pleading for your mercy

I am waiting for Your answer,

And I’m struggling with surrender.

But I’m trusting through the darkness that surrounds:

This is the day the Lord has made

I will rejoice I will give thanks

And live my life to bring you praise

This is the day the Lord has made.

Father, through the shadows, I will seek you, I will follow for your glory, for Your Kingdom;

For redemption, and for freedom,

In my weakness, through the power of the cross:

This is the day…

I will carry my cross, carry my cross,

And You will carry me

I will carry my cross, carry my cross,

And You will carry me. This is the day…

What initially drew me to this song was the fact that the worshiper appears to be “singing through” his circumstances, bleak though they might be. He confesses to being “weary, needing mercy, looking for answers…through the darkness.” The words to Psalms 42 and 40 come quickly to mind:

As a deer gets thirsty for streams of water, I truly am thirsty for you, my God. In my heart, I am thirsty for you, the living God. When will I see your face?

Why am I discouraged? Why am I restless? I trust you! And I will praise you again because you help me, and you are my God.

Every day, you are kind, and at night you give me a song as my prayer to you, the living LORD God. You are my mighty rock. Why am I discouraged? Why am I restless? I trust you! And I will praise you again because you help me, and you are my God.

I waited patiently for the LORD; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the LORD.

For those in the worship ministry to stand before the Church week after week and sing truth through our pain, doubts or fear, it is a powerful way of reaching out to God and encouraging the saints. The psalmist says that through the public proclamation of praise, “many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord.”

In conclusion, love your favorite kinds of music for personal recreation—it’s what makes you unique! But when it comes to music ministry, give me a powerful, truth-filled lyric any day, one which nourishes my soul and “drives the dark of doubt away.” Long after the initial feeling created by the music itself, the words will refresh like ‘apples of gold.’

                                                                                                                             tad

Trees Talk

Pastor’s Point:  Trees Talk

Usually when someone suggests to you that they are having conversations with inanimate objects, you begin to wonder if the porch light is on but nobody’s home. What’s that you say? The trees talk to you? I suppose the flowers whisper your name, too, right?

Actually the notion is not all that far-fetched. Throughout scripture it is suggested that God has intended all along to reveal Himself—to speak to us—through His handiwork. Consider just a few passages:

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge.

They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them.

Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world. Psalm 19

The seas have lifted up, LORD, the seas have lifted up their voice;

the seas have lifted up their pounding waves.

Mightier than the thunder of the great waters, mightier than the breakers of the sea—

the LORD on high is mighty. Ps. 93

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities— his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse. Romans 1

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace;

the mountains and hills will burst into song before you,

and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. Isaiah 55

As the summer months allow for us to interact more freely with our natural surroundings, it’s a good time to be a little more intentional about what nature can “say” to us. Consider with me the connection between the tree and the four seasons: summer, autumn, winter, and spring. Here in this one beautiful symbol of life we have all the stages, the actual rhythm of the human experience. And ultimately, we have the reminder that through the use of a tree, God’s redemptive plan for his fallen creation was accomplished, and we are restored. We are made right with Him.

I am reminded of the lyrics to one of my favorite Nicole Nordeman songs, Every Season.* Read along and see if you don’t agree that God’s creative handiwork has a language all its own.

Every evening sky, an invitation to trace the patterned stars.

And early in July, a celebration for freedom is ours.

And I notice You in children’s games, in those who watch them from the shade.

Every drop of sun is full of fun and wonder. You are summer.

I think of the summer of our days as the best of the best. And it’s not necessarily a confined season or stage of our life. It’s just when life is good, when we’re hitting on all cylinders, and all seems right with the world. This experience comes and goes, but when we’re in the middle of it, we don’t want it to end. It’s also a time filled with discovery and awe.

And even when the trees have just surrendered to the harvest time.

Forfeiting their leaves in late September and sending us inside,

Still I notice You. When change begins and I am braced for colder winds,

I will offer thanks for what has been and what’s to come. You are autumn.

Personally, autumn is my favorite season of the year. The colors, the smells, the cooler temperatures, the activities unique to fall: they all remind me that just because something changes does not mean it can’t be beautiful or purposeful. And I have learned the longer I live, that something wondrous happens even in the process of dying—if I look for it.

And everything in time and under heaven finally falls asleep.

Wrapped in blankets white, all creation shivers underneath.

And still I notice You when branches crack and in my breath on frosted glass.

Even now in death, You open doors for life to enter. You are winter.

I can honestly say this is probably my least favorite season of the year and of life in general. It is often used to describe that stage which precedes our own death, when we fall asleep and are no more. We hear the phrase the winter of our years. Actually, I usually greet the start of winter with enthusiasm. Certain elements, the snow, the warmth of a fireplace, even the beauty of dead trees and vegetation against a white backdrop intrigue me…initially. But then comes the waiting, the frustration of life slowed down, the lack of freedom, the lack of life, the sameness of it all. At times the bitter winds and uncertain conditions seem actually to oppose me in my journey, blocking my forward momentum. But then, it happens:

And everything that’s new has bravely surfaced, teaching us to breathe.

And what was frozen through is newly purposed, turning all things green.

So it is with You and how You make me new with every season’s change.

And so it will be as You are recreating me, summer, autumn, winter, spring.

You and I, along with all of God’s creation, are reborn, given a fresh start, awakened to life as it was always intended. Solomon once wrote: “Lo, the winter is past, the rains are over and gone; flowers appear on the earth, and the time for singing has come.” It reminds us that even the bleakest of periods in our lives have an ending point. God is always at work moving us forward. He has made seasons to illustrate the spectrum of our human experiences. And He has made trees, including the one that was used for His own son’s death, to remind us, that in whatever stage we find ourselves, He is at work for our good.

[Jesus] Himself bore our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, having died to sins,

might live for righteousness—by whose stripes you were healed. 1 Peter 2:24 NKJV

Let the seasons speak to you. Listen to the trees. And be reminded, God is not finished with you yet.

                                                                                                                                       tad

*“Every Season” © 2000 Ariose Music, Admin. by EMI Christian Music Publishing

Pastor’s Point:          (Corner) Stone Soup

As “Papa” to eight grandkids, I’ve rediscovered the joy of a great story. I am well aware that these little rugrats’ efforts to get Debby and me to read them not one, but several, stories before their bedtime is more of a devious ploy to stay up longer than to be enthralled with our skills in oral interpretation. Still, I find it one of my current challenges to be on the lookout for new material, hoping that someday soon they’ll discover the profound lessons to be learned in a good ‘yarn.’

As I sat out in the congregation Sunday, not as a leader but as a participant, one of my favorite childhood stories came to mind: “Stone Soup.” And I quickly thought of two things: 1) I need to add this to the little “nose-miners” bedtime repertoire, and 2) it actually has something to say about corporate worship. For those of you unfamiliar with this little gem, here it is:

There once was a traveler who came to a small village, tired and weary from his long journey. The traveler did not have anything to eat and hoped that a friendly villager would be able to feed him. He came to the first house and knocked on the door. He asked the woman who answered if she could spare just a small bit of food as he had traveled a long journey and was very hungry. The woman replied, “I’m sorry I have nothing to give you. I can barely feed my own family.”

So the traveler went to another door and asked again. The answer was the same: “I have nothing to give you.” He went from door to door and each time was turned away. Undaunted, the traveler went to the village square, took a large tin cooking pot, filled it with water, started a fire and dropped a stone in the pot. As he boiled the water, a passing villager stopped and asked him what he was doing. The traveler replied, “I’m making stone soup. Would you like to join me?” The villager said yes, and he asked if carrots were good in stone soup. “Sure,” said the traveler. The villager went home and returned with carrots from his garden to add to the boiling water. Soon, another curious villager came by and was invited to join them. She went home and returned with some potatoes. A young boy passed by and soon joined the group, bringing his mother and dinner plates from their home.

In time, a crowd gathered with everyone offering their own favorite ingredient: mushrooms, onions, salt, black pepper, acorn, squash. Everyone wanted to be part of the creation. Finally, the traveler removed the stone and declared, “The stone soup is ready!” And the whole community joined in a feast where there was none before.

To point one, I thought the kids would enjoy the kind of “magic” that takes place when plain water “turns into” soup! And kids like stories about cooperation. And if they’re anything like me, they also like to hear about food. If you don’t believe that, talk to the creators of VeggieTales. Finally, there is a great before and after quality to this illustration: Apart from each other—living in isolation, so to speak, everyone struggled with a sense of poverty and want. But when they decided to work together and pool their collective resources, a banquet awaited them. 

                                                                                                                                                 As to my second point about public worship, here’s what I observed. As I looked down on the congregation last Sunday (not condescendingly-I took in the service from the tech balcony), I was struck by how many of the “worshipers” seemed disconnected from each other. You get the sense in Scriptures that God intends for His people to accomplish something collectively and connected-ly (not a word) in corporate worship that is impossible anywhere else. There should be a sense of synergy in our corporate praise, and that the whole should be greater than the sum of its parts. By observation at least, many in attendance were not engaged at all—not singing, looking around, easily distracted, appearing to be alone in a crowded room, so to speak. I realized how challenging it is for us up-fronters to help engage such a diverse and potentially disconnected lot.

But like the “magic” that took place in Stone Soup, I believe we in the local church, can begin to “taste and see that the Lord is good” when we come to worship seeking to contribute what we have to the mix. What is that, you ask? Our life experience, our faith, our spiritual gifts, our honesty, our sense of need. But we must acknowledge that at its core, worship is a giving. In the process, we get many things, but only in proportion to our desire to contribute to God and one another. David says in Psalm 116:

What shall I return to the LORD for all his goodness to me?

I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the LORD.

I will fulfill my vows to the LORD in the presence of all his people.

The One we come to worship, who calls us to enjoy the collective “soup” of His goodness, is no mere stone. The apostle Peter reminds us:

As you come to him, the living Stone—rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him—you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.  For in Scripture it says: “See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame.”

Stone soup, anyone? 

                                                                                                                                         tad

Pastor’s Point: 1 Corinthians 12 Reimagined (submitted by Chris Schliesman)

Dear Choir Members,

I want to write to you about the special abilities that the Holy Spirit gives to each of you, for I don't want any misunderstanding about them.

You will remember that before you became choir members, you stayed at home during choir practice (watching TV). Not one of you was singing a single note. But now you are a meeting people who claim to sing messages from the Spirit of God. How can you know whether they are singing for God or whether they are fakes? Here is the test: no one singing by the power of the Spirit of God can curse Jesus, and no one can sing, "Jesus is Lord," and really mean it, unless the Holy Spirit is helping him.

Now God gives us many kinds of special abilities, but it is the same Holy Spirit who is the source of them all. There are different kinds of service to God, but it is the same Lord we are serving. There are many ways in which God works in our lives, but it is the same God who does the work in and through all of us who are His. The Holy Spirit displays God's power through each of us as a means of helping the entire choir.

To some the Spirit gives the ability to sing soprano; others may be especially good at second or alto, and this is His gift from the same Spirit. To some He gives a special solo talent, and to others the power to harmonize. He gives powers for singing tenor, and to others the power to sing bass. He gives someone else the power to select and direct our music - that it is really the Spirit of God who is singing. Still another person is able to operate our sound system, while others are given the gift of playing musical instruments. It is the same and only Holy Spirit who gives us all these gifts and powers, deciding which each one of us should have.

The choir has many parts, but the many parts make up only one choir when they are all put together. So it is with the "choir" of Christ. Each of us is part of the one choir of Christ. Some of us are sopranos or seconds, some are altos, some are tenors and some are bass. But the Holy Spirit has fitted us all together into one choir. We have been chosen into Christ's choir by the one Spirit, and have all been given the same Holy Spirit.

Yes, the choir has many parts, not just one part. If the alto says, "I am not a part of the choir because I am not a soloist," that does not make her any less a part of the choir. And what would you think if you heard a youth say, "I am not a part of the choir because the choir loft is running out of room?" Would that make him any less a part of the choir? Suppose the whole choir was a director, then who would sing? Or if the whole choir just sang, who would play the instruments?

But that isn't the way God made us. He has many parts for the choir and has put each part just where He wants it. What a strange thing it would be if it only had one part! So He has made many parts, but still there is one choir.

The alto can never say to the soprano, "I don't need you." The choir can never say to the director, "I don't need you." And some of the parts that seem weakest and least important are really the most necessary. If one part suffers, all parts suffer with it, and if one part is honored, all the parts are glad. Now here is what I'm trying to say: all of you together are one choir of Christ and each one of you is a separate and necessary part of it.

Sincerely,

Paul