When I got to the church this past Monday I found a message on the answering machine from a woman from Chatfield. She was calling to see if we’d be willing to come and do a Cowboy Church service for that cities Western Days Celebration in August. As we spoke she mentioned that she had actually wanted to come to our Cowboy Church service the previous night, (probably to check us out and see if we were any good) but just wasn’t able to figure out how to get to Cherry Grove. She doesn’t know her way around this area, and when she “googled” Cherry Grove she couldn’t find any directions. Unfortunately, because Cherry Grove is unincorporated it doesn’t show up on some maps. Even that obstacle could have been overcome if we had our own web page (where we could include a map and directions), but at this time we don’t.
Now it just so happens that we’re using Bishop Robert Schnase’s book the Five Practices of Fruitful Congregations as the theme for our Lenten services this year, and the very first practice is something he calls “Radical Hospitality“. Here’s how Bishop Schnase defines this practice.
“Christian hospitality refers to the active desire to invite, welcome, receive, and care for those who are strangers so that they find a spiritual home and discover for themselves the unending richness of life in Christ. It describes a genuine love for others who are not yet a part of the faith community, an outward focus, a reaching out to those not yet known, a love that motivates church members to openness and adaptability, a willingness to change behaviors in order to accommodate the needs and receive the talents of newcomers. Beyond intention, hospitality practices the gracious love of Christ, respects the dignity of others, and expresses God’s invitation to others, not our own. Hospitality is a mark of Christian discipleship, a quality of Christian community, a concrete expression of commitment to grow in Christ-likeness by seeing ourselves as part of the community of faith, ‘not to be served but to serve.’” (MT 20:28)
According to the Bishop Radical Hospitality involves not just the way we respond to people after they arrive at our church, but also the things we do to make them feel desired and wanted before they ever step through the door. Think about it. How welcome would you feel if someone invited you to dinner at their home, but than made no significant attempt to provide you with clear directions to their residence?
For many folks not having our own church web page probably seems like a small thing, especially for a rural congregation. In fact, a couple of decades ago we couldn’t have had one - but today we can - and we don’t yet - and I can’t help but believe that in a very real way we missed an opportunity this past Sunday to practice radical hospitality!
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Where Are You Living?
We hadn’t been in Cherry Grove for very long - perhaps not much longer than a month even - when one afternoon a sweet, older gentleman from the church stopped by with some fresh-picked grapes for us. He wanted us to have them, he said, because he didn’t want them to go to waste and he couldn’t get his wife to do anything with them. It was a nice gesture, and we would have been perfectly delighted with the gift, except for one problem - and that was that his wife had died several months earlier, and he no longer realized that. He was in the “not so early” stages of dementia (Alzheimer’s I suppose) and like some of the folks I’ll see in the nursing home, he had already begun his retreat into the past, talking about family members who were long gone, and farm chores he hadn’t done for decades.
But you don’t have to have Alzheimer’s Disease to live in the past - truth is there are a lot us who are so nostalgic for days gone by that we just seem to obsess over them. It’s sort of like the two older men you might find in a small-town restaurant, with one of them sharing a tale from their youth. When the stories finished there’ll be a pause, and then one of them will say “Those were the good ol’ days,” and the other will reply, “Yep. Sure were!” It doesn’t matter that at the time those “good old days” might not have seemed all that good, we remember them as if they were. We do that sometimes - live in the past at the expense of the present!
But other folks tend to live in the future. I used to do this every spring as school would be winding to a close. On a beautiful spring day - especially in the afternoon after lunch - I would sit and stare out the window dreaming about the baseball games that we would soon be playing in the field behind my house, or of summer afternoons we’d spend at the pool, or of our annual trip to the lake in Michigan. Likewise someone working out of a windowless cubicle in the middle of January might get lost dreaming of an upcoming trip to some tropical area, and folks whose retirement is fast approaching may find themselves fantasizing about afternoons on the golf course, puttering around a workshop, or traveling the world! We do that sometimes - live in the future at the expense of the present!
There are even certain personality types that are known to do this! If you‘ve ever taken the Meyers/Briggs or Keirsey Temperament Sorter you might be aware that these inventories place people into four major personality types. One group, called Guardians, tend to live in the past (they prefer yesterday) and be terribly pessimistic about the future. A second group are known as Idealists, and these folks tend to live for tomorrow. For them the next move, the next job, the next pull of the handle on a “one armed bandit” will always be the one that makes it for them, and they’re excited about what lies ahead.
But horses aren’t like that - they always live in the present, in the here and now!
It’s not that they don’t remember - they remember perfectly well. If they didn‘t we wouldn‘t be able to train them, or we‘d have to re-train them every time we wanted to use them. They remember perfectly well, and will respond to what they‘ve learned and experienced in the past. Several years ago my oldest son and I were taking off on a ride, and the dogs where we were boarding were accompanying us. We didn‘t generally mind that because we figured that it‘s good to expose the horses to the dogs darting in and out of the brush, but on this day one of the dogs decided to enter a culvert on one side of the driveway and dart out just as the horse my son was riding was alongside the other end. The horse must have thought he was going to be eaten alive. He surely wasn‘t expecting it, and my son wasn’t long for the saddle that day! The next time we rode out we tied the dogs up in the barn, but as we reached that culvert that horse kept his eye glued to that culvert, so that the farther he got past it the more his head was bent around. I’ve never seen a horse walk that straight while his head was bent around to his flank. Horses remember what has happened in the past! If they didn’t we couldn’t train them - but they don’t live there! And they can anticipate things like their feeding times. For that matter whenever my horses hear the door on our trailer opening or closing they get all excited - but they don’t live in the future either!
They live in the here and now! They’re thinking about their companions, or that patch of green grass under their nose, or about what might be in your pocket, or how they can get you to scratch that itchy place just behind their elbow, or around the dock of their tail. They’re living in the present, in the here & now! And I can’t help but think that we can learn something from our horses. You see the problem with living in the past is that God isn’t there! And the problem with living in the future is that God can’t meet us there either because we’re not there yet! God can only meet us - we can only experience God’s love - today, right now, right here, in this moment. You see, this day, & this moment, are God’s gifts to us too, and if we waste them longing for the past or dreaming about the future then we’ve lost that gift!
The Psalmist puts it this way. “This is the day that the Lord has made; Let us rejoice and be glad in it”
But where are you living?
Patty Hobson writes that “We convince ourselves that life will be better after we get married, have a baby, then another. Then we are frustrated that the kids aren't old enough and think we'll be more content when they are. After that we're frustrated that we have teenagers to deal with. We will certainly be happy when they are out of that stage. We tell ourselves that our life will be complete when our spouse gets his or her act together, when we get a nicer car, are able to go on a nice vacation, or when we retire. The truth is, there's no better time to be happy than right now. If not now, when? Your life will always be filled with challenges. It's best to admit this to yourself and decide to be happy anyway. For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin—real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin.
At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life!. This perspective has helped me to see that there is no "way to happiness." Happiness is "the way." So, treasure every moment that you have. And treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time… and remember that time waits for no one...
So stop waiting until you finish school, until you go back to school, until you lose ten pounds, until you gain ten pounds, until you have kids, until your kids leave the house, until you start work, until you retire, until you get married, until you get divorced, until Friday night, until Sunday morning, until you get a new car or home, until your car or home is paid off, until spring, until summer, until fall, until winter, until you are off welfare, until the first or fifteenth, until your song comes on, until you've had a drink, until you've sobered up, until you die, until you are born again to decide that there is no better time than right now to be happy...
Happiness is a journey, not a destination.”
“This is the day that the Lord has made; Let us rejoice and be glad in it”
But where are you living?
(Excerpted from a March 1st Cowboy Church message)
But you don’t have to have Alzheimer’s Disease to live in the past - truth is there are a lot us who are so nostalgic for days gone by that we just seem to obsess over them. It’s sort of like the two older men you might find in a small-town restaurant, with one of them sharing a tale from their youth. When the stories finished there’ll be a pause, and then one of them will say “Those were the good ol’ days,” and the other will reply, “Yep. Sure were!” It doesn’t matter that at the time those “good old days” might not have seemed all that good, we remember them as if they were. We do that sometimes - live in the past at the expense of the present!
But other folks tend to live in the future. I used to do this every spring as school would be winding to a close. On a beautiful spring day - especially in the afternoon after lunch - I would sit and stare out the window dreaming about the baseball games that we would soon be playing in the field behind my house, or of summer afternoons we’d spend at the pool, or of our annual trip to the lake in Michigan. Likewise someone working out of a windowless cubicle in the middle of January might get lost dreaming of an upcoming trip to some tropical area, and folks whose retirement is fast approaching may find themselves fantasizing about afternoons on the golf course, puttering around a workshop, or traveling the world! We do that sometimes - live in the future at the expense of the present!
There are even certain personality types that are known to do this! If you‘ve ever taken the Meyers/Briggs or Keirsey Temperament Sorter you might be aware that these inventories place people into four major personality types. One group, called Guardians, tend to live in the past (they prefer yesterday) and be terribly pessimistic about the future. A second group are known as Idealists, and these folks tend to live for tomorrow. For them the next move, the next job, the next pull of the handle on a “one armed bandit” will always be the one that makes it for them, and they’re excited about what lies ahead.
But horses aren’t like that - they always live in the present, in the here and now!
It’s not that they don’t remember - they remember perfectly well. If they didn‘t we wouldn‘t be able to train them, or we‘d have to re-train them every time we wanted to use them. They remember perfectly well, and will respond to what they‘ve learned and experienced in the past. Several years ago my oldest son and I were taking off on a ride, and the dogs where we were boarding were accompanying us. We didn‘t generally mind that because we figured that it‘s good to expose the horses to the dogs darting in and out of the brush, but on this day one of the dogs decided to enter a culvert on one side of the driveway and dart out just as the horse my son was riding was alongside the other end. The horse must have thought he was going to be eaten alive. He surely wasn‘t expecting it, and my son wasn’t long for the saddle that day! The next time we rode out we tied the dogs up in the barn, but as we reached that culvert that horse kept his eye glued to that culvert, so that the farther he got past it the more his head was bent around. I’ve never seen a horse walk that straight while his head was bent around to his flank. Horses remember what has happened in the past! If they didn’t we couldn’t train them - but they don’t live there! And they can anticipate things like their feeding times. For that matter whenever my horses hear the door on our trailer opening or closing they get all excited - but they don’t live in the future either!
They live in the here and now! They’re thinking about their companions, or that patch of green grass under their nose, or about what might be in your pocket, or how they can get you to scratch that itchy place just behind their elbow, or around the dock of their tail. They’re living in the present, in the here & now! And I can’t help but think that we can learn something from our horses. You see the problem with living in the past is that God isn’t there! And the problem with living in the future is that God can’t meet us there either because we’re not there yet! God can only meet us - we can only experience God’s love - today, right now, right here, in this moment. You see, this day, & this moment, are God’s gifts to us too, and if we waste them longing for the past or dreaming about the future then we’ve lost that gift!
The Psalmist puts it this way. “This is the day that the Lord has made; Let us rejoice and be glad in it”
But where are you living?
Patty Hobson writes that “We convince ourselves that life will be better after we get married, have a baby, then another. Then we are frustrated that the kids aren't old enough and think we'll be more content when they are. After that we're frustrated that we have teenagers to deal with. We will certainly be happy when they are out of that stage. We tell ourselves that our life will be complete when our spouse gets his or her act together, when we get a nicer car, are able to go on a nice vacation, or when we retire. The truth is, there's no better time to be happy than right now. If not now, when? Your life will always be filled with challenges. It's best to admit this to yourself and decide to be happy anyway. For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin—real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin.
At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life!. This perspective has helped me to see that there is no "way to happiness." Happiness is "the way." So, treasure every moment that you have. And treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time… and remember that time waits for no one...
So stop waiting until you finish school, until you go back to school, until you lose ten pounds, until you gain ten pounds, until you have kids, until your kids leave the house, until you start work, until you retire, until you get married, until you get divorced, until Friday night, until Sunday morning, until you get a new car or home, until your car or home is paid off, until spring, until summer, until fall, until winter, until you are off welfare, until the first or fifteenth, until your song comes on, until you've had a drink, until you've sobered up, until you die, until you are born again to decide that there is no better time than right now to be happy...
Happiness is a journey, not a destination.”
“This is the day that the Lord has made; Let us rejoice and be glad in it”
But where are you living?
(Excerpted from a March 1st Cowboy Church message)
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
“Living Water”
For the past couple of years my wife and I have traveled out to Sheridan, Wyoming, for the Leather Crafters & Saddlers Tradeshow, and then spent some time visiting places of interest in Wyoming and Montana. So far we’ve been to Cody and Jackson Hole, walked out among the Pryor Mustangs north of Lovell, seen the wildlife, mud bogs, and Old Faithful at Yellowstone, visited Glacier National Park, gone horseback riding in the Bighorn Mountains, and even seen Hulk Hogan & family filming their reality show at a waterfall in Wyoming (we later saw that episode on TV - the only time we‘ve ever watched the show). It’s breathtakingly beautiful out there, and we really enjoy these trips.
Of course, you can’t head out west through South Dakota without stopping at Wall Drug along the way, and we generally find ourselves pulling in around noon or so to have a meal (there really isn’t anyplace else to stop anyway). Now, I’ve been to Wall Drug before these trips began, once when I was growing up and again six or seven years ago when we went out to the Black Hills (another beautiful area to visit), but I had never known the history of Wall Drug until two years ago when I read one of their pamphlets over lunch. Though Wall Drug is little more than an expensive tourist trap today, the story behind their success has become one of my favorites.
In 1929 Ted Hustead graduated from pharmacy school, and after two years of working for other druggists, he and his wife Dorothy were itching to find their own store. Ted’s father had just died, and he'd left Ted a $3,000 legacy that he could put towards their own business. As they searched together for the right opportunity they had two requirements; they wanted to live in a small town, and they wanted the town to have a Catholic church where they could attend daily mass. In Wall, South Dakota, where a drugstore was for sale, they found both. The priest, the doctor and the banker in town all insisted that Wall was a good place to live, with good people, and they encouraged the couple to come and set up shop.
While Ted and Dorothy were excited about the opportunity, their extended family was decidedly less so. A cousin warned them that the town was in the middle of nowhere, and that everyone there was broke. Even Ted’s father-in-law noted that Wall was “about as Godforsaken as you can get.” But together the family prayed about it, and in the end they all agreed that God seemed to leading Ted and Dorothy to Wall.
The first few years did little or nothing to confirm that decision. As Dorothy wondered whether they could use their talents to the fullest, Ted promised that they would give it five years, and if things didn’t pan out by then they would leave.
Those five years were nearing an end when the breakthrough came. Dorothy had gone upstairs for a nap while Ted minded the empty store, swatting at flies with a rolled up newspaper just to pass the time. An hour later Dorothy was back down. The conversation that followed her return appeared in 1982 in Guideposts Magazine.
Ted: "Too hot to sleep?"
Dorothy: "No, it wasn't the heat that kept me awake. It was all the cars going by on Route 16A. The jalopies just about shook the house to pieces."
Ted: "That's too bad,"
Dorothy: "No, because you know what, Ted? I think I finally saw how we can get all those travelers to come to our store."
Ted: "And how's that?"
Dorothy: "Well, now what is it that those travelers really want after driving across that hot prairie? They're thirsty. They want water. Ice cold water! Now we've got plenty of ice and water. Why don't we put up signs on the highway telling people to come here for free ice water? Listen, I even made up a few lines for the sign:
"Get a soda . . . Get a root beer . . . turn next corner . . . Just as near . . . To Highway 16 & 14. . . Free Ice Water. . . Wall Drug."
Over the next few days Ted and a high school boy put some signs together, modeling them after the old Burma Shave pattern of using staggered signs, placed a distance apart, to convey their message, and the next weekend they went out and put them up. By the time Ted got back to the store people were already lining up for their free ice water, and Dorothy was bustling around trying to keep up. A few bought sandwiches, ice cream and other items. The next summer they had to hire eight girls to help run the business, and the rest, as they say, is history. The place is famous today. I’ve actually seen signs for Wall Drug at the intersection of dirt roads in Africa, pointing towards Wall and informing travelers of how many miles they’ll have to travel to get there. Imagine that trip with your kids asking “Are we there yet?” It’s a fascinating story. Free ice water, and some creative advertising, saved a families business and launched an icon.
But I’ve been thinking (that’s the curl of smoke you see rising over SE Minnesota). Don’t we (the Church) have Living Water to offer? In John 4 Jesus, pausing by a well outside of Sychar in Samaria, asked a Samaritan woman for a drink of water. Now, if you understand the culture and religious practices of the day, this request is extraordinary on so many levels, but for our purposes I’m more interested in the conversation that follows. When the woman expressed surprise the he, a Jew, would ask her, a Samaritan and a woman, for a drink, Jesus replied that "If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water." A few verses later Jesus explained himself this way. "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."
On a dusty, hot summer day, not much beats a glass of cold ice water. Dorothy Hustead recognized this back in the 1930’s. But all around us are folks who are thirsting for the water that Jesus is offering, the Living Water that quenches an even deeper thirst. Travelers were driving by Ted & Dorothy’s shop every day even before the signs went up, they just weren’t stopping. I wonder how many people drive by our worship centers every day who are dying of thirst? And what will we do to reach them?
Of course, you can’t head out west through South Dakota without stopping at Wall Drug along the way, and we generally find ourselves pulling in around noon or so to have a meal (there really isn’t anyplace else to stop anyway). Now, I’ve been to Wall Drug before these trips began, once when I was growing up and again six or seven years ago when we went out to the Black Hills (another beautiful area to visit), but I had never known the history of Wall Drug until two years ago when I read one of their pamphlets over lunch. Though Wall Drug is little more than an expensive tourist trap today, the story behind their success has become one of my favorites.
In 1929 Ted Hustead graduated from pharmacy school, and after two years of working for other druggists, he and his wife Dorothy were itching to find their own store. Ted’s father had just died, and he'd left Ted a $3,000 legacy that he could put towards their own business. As they searched together for the right opportunity they had two requirements; they wanted to live in a small town, and they wanted the town to have a Catholic church where they could attend daily mass. In Wall, South Dakota, where a drugstore was for sale, they found both. The priest, the doctor and the banker in town all insisted that Wall was a good place to live, with good people, and they encouraged the couple to come and set up shop.
While Ted and Dorothy were excited about the opportunity, their extended family was decidedly less so. A cousin warned them that the town was in the middle of nowhere, and that everyone there was broke. Even Ted’s father-in-law noted that Wall was “about as Godforsaken as you can get.” But together the family prayed about it, and in the end they all agreed that God seemed to leading Ted and Dorothy to Wall.
The first few years did little or nothing to confirm that decision. As Dorothy wondered whether they could use their talents to the fullest, Ted promised that they would give it five years, and if things didn’t pan out by then they would leave.
Those five years were nearing an end when the breakthrough came. Dorothy had gone upstairs for a nap while Ted minded the empty store, swatting at flies with a rolled up newspaper just to pass the time. An hour later Dorothy was back down. The conversation that followed her return appeared in 1982 in Guideposts Magazine.
Ted: "Too hot to sleep?"
Dorothy: "No, it wasn't the heat that kept me awake. It was all the cars going by on Route 16A. The jalopies just about shook the house to pieces."
Ted: "That's too bad,"
Dorothy: "No, because you know what, Ted? I think I finally saw how we can get all those travelers to come to our store."
Ted: "And how's that?"
Dorothy: "Well, now what is it that those travelers really want after driving across that hot prairie? They're thirsty. They want water. Ice cold water! Now we've got plenty of ice and water. Why don't we put up signs on the highway telling people to come here for free ice water? Listen, I even made up a few lines for the sign:
"Get a soda . . . Get a root beer . . . turn next corner . . . Just as near . . . To Highway 16 & 14. . . Free Ice Water. . . Wall Drug."
Over the next few days Ted and a high school boy put some signs together, modeling them after the old Burma Shave pattern of using staggered signs, placed a distance apart, to convey their message, and the next weekend they went out and put them up. By the time Ted got back to the store people were already lining up for their free ice water, and Dorothy was bustling around trying to keep up. A few bought sandwiches, ice cream and other items. The next summer they had to hire eight girls to help run the business, and the rest, as they say, is history. The place is famous today. I’ve actually seen signs for Wall Drug at the intersection of dirt roads in Africa, pointing towards Wall and informing travelers of how many miles they’ll have to travel to get there. Imagine that trip with your kids asking “Are we there yet?” It’s a fascinating story. Free ice water, and some creative advertising, saved a families business and launched an icon.
But I’ve been thinking (that’s the curl of smoke you see rising over SE Minnesota). Don’t we (the Church) have Living Water to offer? In John 4 Jesus, pausing by a well outside of Sychar in Samaria, asked a Samaritan woman for a drink of water. Now, if you understand the culture and religious practices of the day, this request is extraordinary on so many levels, but for our purposes I’m more interested in the conversation that follows. When the woman expressed surprise the he, a Jew, would ask her, a Samaritan and a woman, for a drink, Jesus replied that "If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water." A few verses later Jesus explained himself this way. "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."
On a dusty, hot summer day, not much beats a glass of cold ice water. Dorothy Hustead recognized this back in the 1930’s. But all around us are folks who are thirsting for the water that Jesus is offering, the Living Water that quenches an even deeper thirst. Travelers were driving by Ted & Dorothy’s shop every day even before the signs went up, they just weren’t stopping. I wonder how many people drive by our worship centers every day who are dying of thirst? And what will we do to reach them?
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
“As One With Authority”
The gospel lesson a few Sundays back was from Mark 1:21-28. On the surface what Mark records is a common enough occurrence in the gospels. Jesus teaches in a Synagogue in Capernaum on the Sabbath, and a man who is possessed by a demon is healed. Pretty common fare for Jesus. But look deeper and you’ll find that Mark is still setting the parameters for Jesus’ ministry. It wasn’t uncommon for Synagogues to host visitors on the Sabbath, or for them to invite those visitors to read the scriptures and expound upon what they have read. But Mark tells us that the gathered congregation senses something different about this guest, for He spoke to them “as one with authority,” and not like the scribes. And it seems to me that in a world that is unraveling around us, and where folks are increasingly searching for a voice of truth, that it might behoove those of us who are seeking to offer truth to ask where Jesus’ authority came from, and what made His words so different!
In most cultures authority is granted to us for a variety of reasons. For instance, it can accompany a position. Visit a courtroom and you’ll find that when the Judge enters and departs the Bailiff will say “all rise.” There’s a certain authority that is invested in a Judge’s position, and his or her authority in that courtroom is nearly absolute. We find that type of authority in the military too, as well as in the workplace. You may have heard about the boss who hung a sign in the office that read:
Rule #1: The Boss is always right.
Rule #2: When the Boss is wrong, refer to rule #1.
Mark’s gospel doesn’t really make it clear whether or not Jesus was invited to speak as an itinerant Rabbi or as a laymen, but neither situation would have made Him particularly unique - in other words there was nothing unusual about His position that would have explained the aura of authority that accompanied His words!
Authority can accompany our expertise in, and our grasp of, a subject! A group can be gathered around the open hood of a car broken down along the highway, speculating on the problem, but when the mechanic arrives the group will defer to his expertise. And it’s the friend who is a computer science major, or who builds her own computers, who is called upon when our own machines are not working properly.
But there were other experts in the law who had spoken to the people of Capernaum in the past, without this response, so this must not be our answer either!
It some places authority can accompany our age. Asian cultures in particular operate under the assumption that wisdom is acquired with many years of experience, and so the elderly have traditionally been greatly respected. But here again Jesus really doesn’t qualify. He’s a relatively young man still, only around thirty years of age, so His authority can’t come from the wisdom that (sometimes) is gained over many years!
In some cases authority can be given to us by another. In ancient times a King could give his Signet Ring to a trusted aid, and that ring would authorize that aid to carry out whatever the King wished. Today when law enforcement agencies want to conduct a search of private property, they first acquire a search warrant from a Judge. If the property owner refuses to grant access law enforcement can then conduct the search under the Judge's authority. That doesn't always work so well. You may have heard about the government surveyor who brought his equipment to a farm, called on the farmer, and asked permission to go into one of the fields and take some readings. The farmer objected, fearing that the survey would ultimately result in some highway being built through his land. "I will not give you permission to go into my fields," said the farmer.
Whereupon the surveyor produced an official government document which authorized him to do the survey. "I’ve been given the AUTHORITY," he declared, " to enter any field in the entire country to take the necessary readings."
With that the farmer shrugged, open the gate, and allowed the surveyor to enter the field - and then he promptly marched to the far end of the field, and opened another gate-- which allowed his fiercest bull to charge forward into the field!
Seeing the bull, the surveyor dropped his equipment and began to run for his life. As he did he could hear the farmer shouting after him, "SHOW HIM YOUR PAPERS! SHOW HIM YOUR PAPERS!"
In the gospels Jesus does state that "all authority" has been given to Him, and he fully vested his disciples with that authority. But I’m convinced that the “authority” that Jesus spoke with in Capernaum came not from His position, or His knowledge of the Law, or His age, or even because God gave it to Him - but for another reason - because of His personal intimacy with the One of whom He was speaking.
Scott Hoezee recalls a charming anecdote involving the Pope John XXIII. One day the pontiff was having an audience with a group of people, one of whom was the mother of several children. At one point the pope said to this woman, "Would you please tell me the names of your children. I realize that anyone in this room could tell me their names, but something very special happens when a mother speaks the names of her own children."
The Pope was right. There is something different about the way we speak of another, or even utter their name, when we have an intimate connection with that person!
I think that's what made Jesus' teaching so different from that of the scribes. They knew something about God - but Jesus knew His Father intimately!
So it is with us. Our words will carry far greater weight when they are backed by lives that demonstrate Christ’s presence in them!
In the end I’m convinced that others will listen to us not because we know about our subject - because they think we know something about God - but because they sense that we know God!
In most cultures authority is granted to us for a variety of reasons. For instance, it can accompany a position. Visit a courtroom and you’ll find that when the Judge enters and departs the Bailiff will say “all rise.” There’s a certain authority that is invested in a Judge’s position, and his or her authority in that courtroom is nearly absolute. We find that type of authority in the military too, as well as in the workplace. You may have heard about the boss who hung a sign in the office that read:
Rule #1: The Boss is always right.
Rule #2: When the Boss is wrong, refer to rule #1.
Mark’s gospel doesn’t really make it clear whether or not Jesus was invited to speak as an itinerant Rabbi or as a laymen, but neither situation would have made Him particularly unique - in other words there was nothing unusual about His position that would have explained the aura of authority that accompanied His words!
Authority can accompany our expertise in, and our grasp of, a subject! A group can be gathered around the open hood of a car broken down along the highway, speculating on the problem, but when the mechanic arrives the group will defer to his expertise. And it’s the friend who is a computer science major, or who builds her own computers, who is called upon when our own machines are not working properly.
But there were other experts in the law who had spoken to the people of Capernaum in the past, without this response, so this must not be our answer either!
It some places authority can accompany our age. Asian cultures in particular operate under the assumption that wisdom is acquired with many years of experience, and so the elderly have traditionally been greatly respected. But here again Jesus really doesn’t qualify. He’s a relatively young man still, only around thirty years of age, so His authority can’t come from the wisdom that (sometimes) is gained over many years!
In some cases authority can be given to us by another. In ancient times a King could give his Signet Ring to a trusted aid, and that ring would authorize that aid to carry out whatever the King wished. Today when law enforcement agencies want to conduct a search of private property, they first acquire a search warrant from a Judge. If the property owner refuses to grant access law enforcement can then conduct the search under the Judge's authority. That doesn't always work so well. You may have heard about the government surveyor who brought his equipment to a farm, called on the farmer, and asked permission to go into one of the fields and take some readings. The farmer objected, fearing that the survey would ultimately result in some highway being built through his land. "I will not give you permission to go into my fields," said the farmer.
Whereupon the surveyor produced an official government document which authorized him to do the survey. "I’ve been given the AUTHORITY," he declared, " to enter any field in the entire country to take the necessary readings."
With that the farmer shrugged, open the gate, and allowed the surveyor to enter the field - and then he promptly marched to the far end of the field, and opened another gate-- which allowed his fiercest bull to charge forward into the field!
Seeing the bull, the surveyor dropped his equipment and began to run for his life. As he did he could hear the farmer shouting after him, "SHOW HIM YOUR PAPERS! SHOW HIM YOUR PAPERS!"
In the gospels Jesus does state that "all authority" has been given to Him, and he fully vested his disciples with that authority. But I’m convinced that the “authority” that Jesus spoke with in Capernaum came not from His position, or His knowledge of the Law, or His age, or even because God gave it to Him - but for another reason - because of His personal intimacy with the One of whom He was speaking.
Scott Hoezee recalls a charming anecdote involving the Pope John XXIII. One day the pontiff was having an audience with a group of people, one of whom was the mother of several children. At one point the pope said to this woman, "Would you please tell me the names of your children. I realize that anyone in this room could tell me their names, but something very special happens when a mother speaks the names of her own children."
The Pope was right. There is something different about the way we speak of another, or even utter their name, when we have an intimate connection with that person!
I think that's what made Jesus' teaching so different from that of the scribes. They knew something about God - but Jesus knew His Father intimately!
So it is with us. Our words will carry far greater weight when they are backed by lives that demonstrate Christ’s presence in them!
In the end I’m convinced that others will listen to us not because we know about our subject - because they think we know something about God - but because they sense that we know God!
Monday, February 2, 2009
“Created for Community!”
We have a spring fed spring stream that runs through our pastures – and it’s kind of interesting to see the different ways our horses react to it. A couple of our mares are just plain “mudders” – it seems like they’re always in the water. We’ll hear them splashing in it, but even if we didn’t we could tell how much they like the water by the mud that comes almost up to their knees in the summertime. My wife’s mare, on the other hand, wouldn’t dream of splashing across it. She’s got to tip the scales at over 1100 lbs but she’s afraid to get her feet wet! When we got her we weren’t sure if she’d ever even crossed water, so we had to spend some time working on that with her.
Now, there are actually a couple of different ways to get a horse to cross water. If your horse is trained to seek the release you can actually take your horse out alone to a park with water crossings, line your horse up and reward every small movement forward, and eventually (it might take a l-o-o-o-n-g time) your horse will plunge in and cross. It might literally leap in and race across the first time, but with each subsequent trip across your horse will become calmer and quieter about it.
But I didn’t really want to have to spend that much time waiting for my wife’s horse to finally cross, because she’s pretty stubborn and so I opted for an easier method. I called a friend who was working up at Ironwood Springs Christian Ranch, hauled our mare up there and went out on the trails with just one other horse – one that was both familiar with and completely confident with all of the water crossings along their trails. We started out with the shallowest and easiest crossings, and once my friend’s horse crossed mine – not wanting to be left alone – did likewise! You see, horses are “herd” animals, and they will seek out and prefer the safety and security of other horses. That’s why one of the safest ways to introduce a young horse to something new is to take out an older horse with them. The older horse supports, strengthens, and offers confidence to the younger one.
And I can’t help but wonder whether or not that might be why, when Jesus sent His disciples out here in Luke 10 to “practice” the ministry skills they were learning, that He sent them out in twos! Because the one could strengthen, encourage, and support the other. You see, I’m convinced that we were created to be in community with one another. From the creation account in Genesis when God can find no suitable companion for Adam and so creates Eve to fill that void, the Bible reminds us again and again how much we need one another. Solomon in Ecclesiastes makes this point when he writes that “two are better than one… for if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion, but woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up.” And the book of Acts tells us of the radical community that is formed in Jerusalem by the new believers, where homes are opened up to one another, property and possessions are sold and the proceeds given away to those in need, and folks care for one another sacrificially! You see, we were created for community, and we’re most vulnerable when we isolate ourselves from others! Oh, we’ll read every so often of some hermit, off living alone in the mountains or in a cave somewhere, and seemingly the happier for it, but the very fact that such a person makes the news proves my point. We were created for community!
Increasingly today we’ll hear from folks – usually younger people – who have forsaken the Church all the while arguing that they can practice their faith – or more often their spirituality – on their own. And you can encounter God in the privacy of your own home. But real growth requires the presence of another, of someone who can encourage us, support us, spar with us, and even help us learn patience and forgiveness. Someone once said that “(You) can acquire everything in solitude except character,” and they're right. You need others for that.
Stu Weber tells of being drafted in 1967, while the country was at war in Vietnam. Stu soon found himself at the U.S. Army Ranger School at Fort Benning, Georgia. It was brutal. He writes:
"I can still hear the raspy voice of the sergeant: 'We are here to save your lives. We're going to see to it that you overcome all your natural fears. We're going to show you just how much incredible stress the human mind and body can endure. And when we're finished with you, you will be the U.S. Army's best!'
"Then, before he dismissed the formation, he announced our first assignment. We'd steeled ourselves for something really tough—like running 10 miles in full battle gear or rappelling down a sheer cliff.
"Instead, he told us to … find a buddy!"
"'Find yourself a Ranger buddy,' he growled. 'You will stick together. You will never leave each other. You will encourage each other, and, as necessary, you will carry each other.' It was the army's way of saying, 'Difficult assignments require a friend. Together is better.'"
It’s like that for us too. God never intended for us to isolate ourselves. We need one another if we’re going to navigate our way safely through the trials and temptations of this world. We were created for community!
(From February 1st Cowboy Church)
Now, there are actually a couple of different ways to get a horse to cross water. If your horse is trained to seek the release you can actually take your horse out alone to a park with water crossings, line your horse up and reward every small movement forward, and eventually (it might take a l-o-o-o-n-g time) your horse will plunge in and cross. It might literally leap in and race across the first time, but with each subsequent trip across your horse will become calmer and quieter about it.
But I didn’t really want to have to spend that much time waiting for my wife’s horse to finally cross, because she’s pretty stubborn and so I opted for an easier method. I called a friend who was working up at Ironwood Springs Christian Ranch, hauled our mare up there and went out on the trails with just one other horse – one that was both familiar with and completely confident with all of the water crossings along their trails. We started out with the shallowest and easiest crossings, and once my friend’s horse crossed mine – not wanting to be left alone – did likewise! You see, horses are “herd” animals, and they will seek out and prefer the safety and security of other horses. That’s why one of the safest ways to introduce a young horse to something new is to take out an older horse with them. The older horse supports, strengthens, and offers confidence to the younger one.
And I can’t help but wonder whether or not that might be why, when Jesus sent His disciples out here in Luke 10 to “practice” the ministry skills they were learning, that He sent them out in twos! Because the one could strengthen, encourage, and support the other. You see, I’m convinced that we were created to be in community with one another. From the creation account in Genesis when God can find no suitable companion for Adam and so creates Eve to fill that void, the Bible reminds us again and again how much we need one another. Solomon in Ecclesiastes makes this point when he writes that “two are better than one… for if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion, but woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up.” And the book of Acts tells us of the radical community that is formed in Jerusalem by the new believers, where homes are opened up to one another, property and possessions are sold and the proceeds given away to those in need, and folks care for one another sacrificially! You see, we were created for community, and we’re most vulnerable when we isolate ourselves from others! Oh, we’ll read every so often of some hermit, off living alone in the mountains or in a cave somewhere, and seemingly the happier for it, but the very fact that such a person makes the news proves my point. We were created for community!
Increasingly today we’ll hear from folks – usually younger people – who have forsaken the Church all the while arguing that they can practice their faith – or more often their spirituality – on their own. And you can encounter God in the privacy of your own home. But real growth requires the presence of another, of someone who can encourage us, support us, spar with us, and even help us learn patience and forgiveness. Someone once said that “(You) can acquire everything in solitude except character,” and they're right. You need others for that.
Stu Weber tells of being drafted in 1967, while the country was at war in Vietnam. Stu soon found himself at the U.S. Army Ranger School at Fort Benning, Georgia. It was brutal. He writes:
"I can still hear the raspy voice of the sergeant: 'We are here to save your lives. We're going to see to it that you overcome all your natural fears. We're going to show you just how much incredible stress the human mind and body can endure. And when we're finished with you, you will be the U.S. Army's best!'
"Then, before he dismissed the formation, he announced our first assignment. We'd steeled ourselves for something really tough—like running 10 miles in full battle gear or rappelling down a sheer cliff.
"Instead, he told us to … find a buddy!"
"'Find yourself a Ranger buddy,' he growled. 'You will stick together. You will never leave each other. You will encourage each other, and, as necessary, you will carry each other.' It was the army's way of saying, 'Difficult assignments require a friend. Together is better.'"
It’s like that for us too. God never intended for us to isolate ourselves. We need one another if we’re going to navigate our way safely through the trials and temptations of this world. We were created for community!
(From February 1st Cowboy Church)
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
"Popeye"
My first appointment was in central Illinois, where I served three smaller churches who had each seen their best days long ago (see “Requiem for a Church” elsewhere in this Blog). Their populations were simultaneously declining and aging, what with the majority of their young people heading off to college and not coming back, and so I had quite a few funerals during my three years there. I’d have to go back and count to be sure, but I believe the number was around fifty. They started during my second full month there with back to back to back funerals, three weeks in a row. One of those was Henrietta. If my memory serves me correctly, she was right around 100 years old.
By all accounts Henrietta was pretty deaf by the time I arrived, and our sound system didn’t work particularly well, so I doubt she heard much of what I said during worship. But she was from a time and generation when folks went to church, and so she was with us every Sunday, including the Sunday before she died. When she went it was sudden, despite her age. Her son found her, at home in bed. It appeared that she’d gone to sleep and just not woken up. And so we gathered for her funeral, and the ladies of the church prepared a fine meal for her friends and family, the latter of which included a bachelor son who was seventy years old. Everyone called him Popeye, because, well, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the cartoon character of the same name. Popeye had never really done too much with his life. If I recall correctly, he may have had a slight learning disability. He spent most of his time downtown at the bar where he earned a few dollars sweeping the floor. And unlike his elderly mother, he didn’t come to church. But during the lunch that followed the funeral one of the older ladies of the congregation suggested to him that with his mother gone now it was time for him to claim her pew.
Now, this was a town where the older church ladies commanded respect, and this friend of his mothers may have even been his Sunday School teacher sometime in the past. Whatever the reason, Popeye was in worship the next Sunday, sitting right there in his mother’s pew. Unfortunately, over the years Popeye’s clothing had become somewhat worn, and you didn’t really need to dress particularly well for the town bars, and so Popeye wore what he had available. This set a few tongues wagging, and Popeye, unlike his mother, was able to hear every word. That was his last Sunday in worship with us. He never came back, unwilling to subject himself to the judgment of the ladies of the church.
We do that sometimes in the Church - drive away the very people that Jesus would send us out to find and bring back home. Oh, we’ve relaxed our dress code substantially since this happened, but we can still be mighty quick to judge and reject the folks who’s lives bear silent witness to a lifetime of poor choices, or those who really don’t fit well within our social circles. Jesus once reminded the Pharisees that it was the sick who required a Physician, and not those who were well, but we too often forget that, expecting folks to have their lives all in order when they first come to the church, as if somehow that could be possible.
I’ve often thought about Popeye over the years, even though he died in 1992, five years and a few months after we had moved on to Minnesota. The obituary stated that he was survived by a nephew. I still grieve that it couldn’t add the words “and a loving church family.”
By all accounts Henrietta was pretty deaf by the time I arrived, and our sound system didn’t work particularly well, so I doubt she heard much of what I said during worship. But she was from a time and generation when folks went to church, and so she was with us every Sunday, including the Sunday before she died. When she went it was sudden, despite her age. Her son found her, at home in bed. It appeared that she’d gone to sleep and just not woken up. And so we gathered for her funeral, and the ladies of the church prepared a fine meal for her friends and family, the latter of which included a bachelor son who was seventy years old. Everyone called him Popeye, because, well, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the cartoon character of the same name. Popeye had never really done too much with his life. If I recall correctly, he may have had a slight learning disability. He spent most of his time downtown at the bar where he earned a few dollars sweeping the floor. And unlike his elderly mother, he didn’t come to church. But during the lunch that followed the funeral one of the older ladies of the congregation suggested to him that with his mother gone now it was time for him to claim her pew.
Now, this was a town where the older church ladies commanded respect, and this friend of his mothers may have even been his Sunday School teacher sometime in the past. Whatever the reason, Popeye was in worship the next Sunday, sitting right there in his mother’s pew. Unfortunately, over the years Popeye’s clothing had become somewhat worn, and you didn’t really need to dress particularly well for the town bars, and so Popeye wore what he had available. This set a few tongues wagging, and Popeye, unlike his mother, was able to hear every word. That was his last Sunday in worship with us. He never came back, unwilling to subject himself to the judgment of the ladies of the church.
We do that sometimes in the Church - drive away the very people that Jesus would send us out to find and bring back home. Oh, we’ve relaxed our dress code substantially since this happened, but we can still be mighty quick to judge and reject the folks who’s lives bear silent witness to a lifetime of poor choices, or those who really don’t fit well within our social circles. Jesus once reminded the Pharisees that it was the sick who required a Physician, and not those who were well, but we too often forget that, expecting folks to have their lives all in order when they first come to the church, as if somehow that could be possible.
I’ve often thought about Popeye over the years, even though he died in 1992, five years and a few months after we had moved on to Minnesota. The obituary stated that he was survived by a nephew. I still grieve that it couldn’t add the words “and a loving church family.”
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
“Trusting the Hand on the Reins”
If you ride much – or if perhaps you used to ride a good bit in the past – than you already know that one the greatest risks in riding a young horse is over the way they tend to shy at things that frighten them. It might be a mailbox, or a piece of paper blowing by, or any number of things that spook them and cause them to behave in an unpredictable fashion.
A number of years ago, back when we were boarding our horses down the road, Susan and I had gone out for a ride on a nice fall afternoon. We had a pretty good ride that day - and by that I mean that we had lived through it - and were most of the way back down the ditch alongside the driveway leading into the yard, when my horse stepped on a cattle fence that someone had left in the high grass. Now that might not have been a problem, except that my horse had shoes on, and the back edge caught a corner of the fence so that as he raised his foot the fence both pulled on him and came up out of the grass - and I’m sure he thought it was going to eat him. He just “broke in two”, bucking up out of the ditch, across the driveway, and into the ditch on the other side. Frankly, I didn’t know he had it in him. Anyway, about that time I decided to get off - or at least that’s my story! Fear responses can simply be dangerous.
There are a couple approaches that you can take to try to overcome this sort of response. The first thing that you can do is de-sensitize your horse to as much as possible. By that I mean you expose your horse to as many different frightening things as you can - starting slowly with things that aren't too scary - and only reward your horse by removing the scary object when he finally stops moving and relaxes. By and large when you see someone advertise a horse as bomb-proof the seller means that this horse has been exposed to – and become accustomed to – pretty much everything you might encounter on a ride (cars, trucks, tractors, 4-wheelers, mailboxes, dogs, plastic bags, gun shots, etc.).
But there’s a second approach that you’ll often find some of the very best clinicians advocating – and I mean the people who seem to be able to look deeper inside a horse and recognize exactly where it is at and what it needs in that moment. These folks suggest that rather than working on the horse (de-sensitizing it) we should be working on the rider. What they mean is that if the horse trusts the rider – if the horse has come to understand that the rider knows what he or she is doing – if the horse believes that the rider cares for it and is it’s leader and protector, the horse will do pretty much anything the rider asks without fear because it knows it is in good hands!
And I can’t help but wonder, as we stand only a few days into a new year, whether or not our own response to God’s leading might not also depend upon how much we are willing to trust the One whose hands are on the reins in our lives?
Robert Sutton recalls a television program that preceded the Winter Olympics some years ago that featured blind skiers being trained for slalom skiing, as impossible as that may sound. Paired with sighted skiers, the blind skiers were taught on the flats how to make right and left turns. When that was mastered, they were taken to the slalom slope, where their sighted partners skied beside them shouting, "Left!" and "Right!" As they obeyed the commands, they were able to negotiate the course and cross the finish line, depending solely on the sighted skiers' word. It was either complete trust or catastrophe.
Sutton suggests that this is a vivid picture of the Christian life - except that we are the ones who are in reality blind and can only make our way to safety as we listen to, and heed, God’s guidance.
As you make your way through 2009, you really have two choices. You can buck & shy, fighting for your head as you plunge blindly in the darkness of the unknown. Or you can trust the hand on the reins of the One who loves you and who can see what you cannot.
(Excerpted from a Cowboy Church message on January 4th)
A number of years ago, back when we were boarding our horses down the road, Susan and I had gone out for a ride on a nice fall afternoon. We had a pretty good ride that day - and by that I mean that we had lived through it - and were most of the way back down the ditch alongside the driveway leading into the yard, when my horse stepped on a cattle fence that someone had left in the high grass. Now that might not have been a problem, except that my horse had shoes on, and the back edge caught a corner of the fence so that as he raised his foot the fence both pulled on him and came up out of the grass - and I’m sure he thought it was going to eat him. He just “broke in two”, bucking up out of the ditch, across the driveway, and into the ditch on the other side. Frankly, I didn’t know he had it in him. Anyway, about that time I decided to get off - or at least that’s my story! Fear responses can simply be dangerous.
There are a couple approaches that you can take to try to overcome this sort of response. The first thing that you can do is de-sensitize your horse to as much as possible. By that I mean you expose your horse to as many different frightening things as you can - starting slowly with things that aren't too scary - and only reward your horse by removing the scary object when he finally stops moving and relaxes. By and large when you see someone advertise a horse as bomb-proof the seller means that this horse has been exposed to – and become accustomed to – pretty much everything you might encounter on a ride (cars, trucks, tractors, 4-wheelers, mailboxes, dogs, plastic bags, gun shots, etc.).
But there’s a second approach that you’ll often find some of the very best clinicians advocating – and I mean the people who seem to be able to look deeper inside a horse and recognize exactly where it is at and what it needs in that moment. These folks suggest that rather than working on the horse (de-sensitizing it) we should be working on the rider. What they mean is that if the horse trusts the rider – if the horse has come to understand that the rider knows what he or she is doing – if the horse believes that the rider cares for it and is it’s leader and protector, the horse will do pretty much anything the rider asks without fear because it knows it is in good hands!
And I can’t help but wonder, as we stand only a few days into a new year, whether or not our own response to God’s leading might not also depend upon how much we are willing to trust the One whose hands are on the reins in our lives?
Robert Sutton recalls a television program that preceded the Winter Olympics some years ago that featured blind skiers being trained for slalom skiing, as impossible as that may sound. Paired with sighted skiers, the blind skiers were taught on the flats how to make right and left turns. When that was mastered, they were taken to the slalom slope, where their sighted partners skied beside them shouting, "Left!" and "Right!" As they obeyed the commands, they were able to negotiate the course and cross the finish line, depending solely on the sighted skiers' word. It was either complete trust or catastrophe.
Sutton suggests that this is a vivid picture of the Christian life - except that we are the ones who are in reality blind and can only make our way to safety as we listen to, and heed, God’s guidance.
As you make your way through 2009, you really have two choices. You can buck & shy, fighting for your head as you plunge blindly in the darkness of the unknown. Or you can trust the hand on the reins of the One who loves you and who can see what you cannot.
(Excerpted from a Cowboy Church message on January 4th)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
