SOMETHING IS WRONG AND WE SEEM UNABLE OR UNWILLING TO FIX IT

Melinda Gates once said, “All lives have equal value.”

Nepal. As of this writing, more than 7,500 people dead, twice that number injured, 2.8 million displaced.

People are helping. Lutheran World Relief, the agency I know best, has responded with more than $1 million and continues to raise funds for additional help. LWR is also shipping 9,240 Quilts and 1,000 Personal Care Kits and 100 water filtration units so safe water is available.

Nations are helping: Switzerland, $18.6 million. Norway, $17.3 million. United Kingdom, $23 million. USA, $10 million. The list goes on.

But then along come Floyd Mayweather Jr. and Manny Pacquiao, and “the fight of the century.” All of a sudden the world begins to seem silly, stupid even. A $300 million payday. $180 million ($4.9 million per minute) to the winner. $120 million ($3.3 million per minute) to the guy who came in second. Three to four million people buying “pay-per-view” to watch two grown men hit each other. $10,000 to reserve a seat on the main floor of the hotel. $1,500 to sit in the worst seat in the house. $1,600 to stay for one night in the hotel where the fight took place.

Something is wrong with us.

In February of 2014, Tom Brokaw, well respected national news reporter and a South Dakota boy, was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a cancer affecting blood cells in the bone marrow. In December he announced that the cancer was in remission. He wrote these words: “My last year was a challenge, but I was meeting it in world class hospitals with brilliant physicians.”

I like Tom Brokaw, and I am glad the cancer is in remission, glad he had “brilliant physicians” in “world class hospitals.”

But what if everyone diagnosed with cancer could say the same? What if “the greatest nation in the world” figured out a way to provide health care for all who live in this country?

That is not a political question. It is a faith question.

Jesus, our Good Shepherd, said, “I came that my sheep may have life and have it abundantly.” Another translation reads, “. . . that they have life, and have it to the full.” (John 10:10)

So he gave sight to a blind man, caused a deaf man to hear, enabled a leper to be able to go home once again. The task of the Church is not only to announce God's forgiveness and proclaim the promise of heaven, we also work and give and teach in the hope that all God's children have an abundant, full life here on earth.

As the Church, as disciples of Jesus, we will help the neighbor when troubles come, like the tornado in Delmont or the earthquake in Nepal. We will send a few bucks to feed the hungry and ship quilts to people we will never meet.

But we will also strive to figure out a way to pay people a decent wage and we will work toward the goal of available quality health care for everyone, regardless of income or status. We will work to stop domestic violence and we will demand that all people be treated with respect.

Will we succeed? Probably not. But shame on us if we don't give it our best shot.

Horace Mann (1796-1859) said, “Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity.”

Jesus came into this world because something is wrong with us. He came to open our eyes to see that truth, and to give us the courage to work to fix it. In the Bible, God is always telling us not to be afraid. I believe that word is not just about being afraid of what goes bump in the night, but also about not being afraid to do that which is right and good, even when it is hard, maybe impossible.

There is a story in the Bible about a man who runs up to Jesus and asks, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus asks him if he has kept the commandments of God. The man says, yes, since I was a child. Then, “Jesus, looking at him, loved and said, 'You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor . . .'” (Mark 10:17-21)

What must I do, asks the young man, what must I do to be as one with Jesus, to be a citizen in God's kingdom? What must I do to be whole, complete?

Give to the poor, Jesus says. Give to the poor.

Gary

When my father left the farm in North Dakota at the age of 37, and moved west to work in a paper mill, he was able to wash the dirt from under his fingernails but never from his soul. For the next 48 years he kept up with the price of oats and barley, and read the Rugby weekly newspaper. And when he settled in Washington state, he bought a house in the country, which sat on a hilly 2 ½ acres of land covered with trees, wild grass, blackberry bushes, and thistles. My father was at constant war with those thistles. It was land that would not be farmed, but one could keep a few sheep and a couple of goats for the sake of memory and loss.

I was, at times, the shepherd of those sheep. There was a creek which ran next to our land, at the bottom of the hill on the south side. It was never deep or wide, so if one wanted, it could be walked across. One day those sheep tried and got stuck in the middle of that muddy creek. I found them that way and knew I had to get them out. I was alone in the task, but with some effort and time, I finally succeeded to getting them back to dry land.

Later that sane day, I went to check on them, and found them in the middle of that same creek, stuck pretty much in the same spot.

I do not remember if it was that summer or another, but one day I went looking for those sheep and found their bodies in the corner of a fence line. That is where the wild dogs finally caught them and ripped their throats out.

It has been thought that sheep are not intelligent, and they do fall below the pig and are on par with the cow in IQ. But they have this: they stick together, and they recognize the faces of other sheep and remember those faces for years. And this too, they recognize the faces of human beings.

So Jesus says of his sheep, “I know my own and my own know me.”

his name is Jesus

and he is lamb

and he is shepherd

sent by God

for he is son

born among us

so God came

this gentle one

he is lamb

and he is shepherd

lamb of God

without spot

nor blemish

yet slaughtered

yet slain

yet dead

lamb of God

now shepherd

of the earth

now prince

of peace

now risen

from the dead

he is lamb

and he is shepherd

searching for the

lost and scattered ones

lost in hunger

lost in fear

lost in sadness

longing for

a shepherd's voice

to hear

he is lamb

and he is shepherd

leading us

with grace filled

words

words of peace

words of justice

words of welcome

he is lamb

and he is shepherd

see him now with

eyes of faith

for still he comforts

still he leads us

hold him close

this lamb of God

follow him still

this good shepherd

we are sheep

and we are shepherds

sometimes lost

and scattered too

yet we seek

to find

the missing

the wounded

the broken

to listen

to heal

to forgive

because we have been

found

and healed

and forgiven

his name is Jesus

and he is lamb

and he is shepherd

and he is good

Gary

Thomas

Thomas came to church

the Sunday after Easter

and Jesus was still there.

To his amazement

he discovered

he did not

need to touch him.

Presence

was sufficient.

Word

was grace.

And Thomas

believed.

Gary

Stupidity

Stupidity is a more dangerous enemy of the good than evil is. Against evil, one can protest; it can be exposed and, if necessary, stopped with force. Evil always carries the seed of its own self-destruction, because it at least leaves people with a feeling of uneasiness. But against stupidity, we are defenseless. Neither with protest nor with force can we do anything here; reasons have no effect. Facts that contradict one’s own prejudice need only to be disbelieved – in such cases stupid people even become critical, and when facts are unavoidable, they can simply be swept aside as meaningless isolated cases. Stupid people, in contrast to evil ones, are satisfied with themselves. Indeed, they become dangerous in that they may easily be stimulated to go on the attack. Therefore, more care must be taken in regard to stupidity than to evil…  

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Climate change is not a matter of faith.  It is a matter of science.  It is amazing and sad to listen to people elected to public office, who have a responsibility of making laws that benefit and protect not only the citizens of our country, but also the citizens not yet born, and the citizens of this world, claiming they are not scientists and therefore cannot even comment on this real issue that does and will continue to have an adverse affect upon the earth we share.

Gary

MY GOOD FRIEND, WHO IS BOTH AFRAID AND BRAVE AT THE SAME TIME

My good friend, a kind and gentle woman of faith and compassion, with a great sense of humor, has been diagnosed with ALS.

I write these words for two reasons. One, I want her to know how much she is loved. And two, I believe she can teach us.

Some say that faith in God will fix life. Believe in Jesus and all will be well. Put your trust in God and God will deliver security and wealth.

By the late 1930's, Adolf Hitler had taken control of the Christian Church in Germany. Many leaders in the Church were silent. But one young pastor by the name of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a pacifist, joined a conspiracy to “rid the world of a madman.” In a Christmas greeting in 1940, Bonhoeffer wrote that in the Church, “Germans . . . want a 'vacation from life,' 'a wisp of magic asking nothing and promising everything.'” (“Strange Glory” by Charles Marsh, p. 302) Bonhoeffer was imprisoned and hanged just before the war ended.

The Apostle Paul, in prison awaiting trial, writes a letter to a congregation in the city of Philippi, which includes these words, “. . . for I have learned to be content with whatever I have.” (Philippians 4:11) It is a remarkable testimony of faith in the worst of times, but faith did not get Paul out of jail. He will remain in prison until he is executed.

In many Christian Churches, the Sunday before Lent is called Transfiguration Sunday and the gospel reading is the story of Jesus and three members of his congregation walking to the top of a mountain, where Jesus' appearance is changed (transfigured); “his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white.” The disciples hear a voice declaring, “This is my son, the beloved; with him I am well pleased . . .” (Matthew 17)

That beloved son is eventually betrayed, beaten, and nailed to a cross, where he is heard to cry with a loud voice, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27)

We live on this side of Easter, so we believe Jesus was not forsaken, but was raised up from death to life, that he lives. But at the time of his great suffering, he too asked “why.” Why is this happening to me? What have I done to deserve this? Why is God allowing this to happen? Has God abandoned me?

There is fairly good evidence that two of the disciples with Jesus on that mountain died for their faith in him. Faith in God did not guarantee comfort or wealth, or freedom from troubles.

The blessings that flow from faith may have a greater impact upon the neighbor than upon the one who is faithful.

I am not sure if I know how to say this, but I believe that my friend's faith, her grace and compassion, her kindness and gentleness, are no guarantee she will be saved from troubles, but it does guarantee she will be a blessing to others. Her faith in Jesus is not a promise that her troubles will be over and her life full of joy. But her faith in Jesus is a promise that she will strive to help others in their troubles and she will bring joy to this world.

So my dear friend, if you read this, I hope you know how much you are loved, by me and by so many others, and I dare trust and say you are loved by God, even though it may be difficult to believe that now. But know this, you are a blessing in this broken world. You make a difference.

I do not understand why this world is filled with so much injustice and suffering. Some, for sure, caused by us. Caused by our greed and selfishness. We are sinners and therefore we sin. We do wrong to one another in many ways. We bring hurt to those we love and even to ourselves.

So perhaps we can explain, even though it seems impossible to comprehend, the imprisonment and execution of people like Paul and Bonhoeffer. We only get to chapter four in Genesis before Cain kills his own brother. Much of the pain and suffering we witness is on us.

But that does not answer all our questions. How can God, who we confess to be all good and, at the same time, all powerful, allow illness and calamity to come down upon God's children?

It does not take long on this earth to discover that some things do not make any sense, no matter how we may try to explain them.

Maybe there is a plan, as some say. In truth, I do not know. I am pretty sure no one else on this earth knows either. But it is hard to see God's purpose when you are diagnosed with ALS or cancer, or when you lose a child, or when a flood comes raging through your community, or when you have a heart attack at age 50, or your spouse begins to show signs of dementia.

When those things happen, somehow you still believe. You still pray. You still strive, as best you can, to follow Jesus and do what you can to help others in their need, but there are times, many times when you want to raise your voice loudly and cry . . .

My God, my God, why?

Gary

Belonging

Jesus answered, “I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep.”

– John 10:25-26

We are used to hearing, even saying, “If you will believe as we believe, then you can belong with us; you can be a part of us, be a part of our community.”

In other words, believing comes first. Believe and then you can belong.

Which also means that if you do not believe, you cannot belong.

Jesus seems to be saying something else. Tag along with me, and let’s see what happens. Be a part of my community. Maybe faith will come.

In other words, belonging comes first. Belonging may lead to believing.

It works for children.

Gary  

WHY?

The community met in community

to talk about building a building

for the community.

A community building.

For swimming

and basketball.

For walking machines

and exercise.

For basketball

and pickle ball.

For walking

and for running.

A building for play.

One gentleman stood up

and asked, why?

Why are we building a place

just to have fun?

He was serious.

Gary

A thing of beauty is a joy forever

I am in Stillwater, Minnesota on a warm day in May, inside a theological bookstore located in a building that was once a church. I am searching through row upon row of books, when I hear the sound of someone coming in through the door just off to my left. I glance up. She looks to be about thirty years old, dressed from the top of her head to the top of her shoes in white. I am sure she is a Catholic sister and I am sure she is beautiful. She greets me with a smile and a nod of her head, and as I return the greeting, she moves past me further into the store. A short time later I sense movement to my right, and look up to see her again as she is leaving. As she passes, she once again greets me with a smile and a nod of her head. Again I return the greeting. Then, as she is about to go out the door, I say to her back, “By the way, you look quite beautiful, you know.” She turns, blushes, smiles, and says, “Thank you.” Then as she goes out the door, she adds, perhaps to herself, perhaps to God, “I love wearing this habit.”

I have no lesson here. I simply like that young Catholic sister in her white habit. I like her smile, the blush on her cheeks, the fact that she likes wearing her habit and likes looking beautiful in it. I cherish those few moments in her presence and doubt I will ever forget them.

Often beauty will come, unexpected and undeserved, like a gentle rain in the midst of a dry summer. Our only work is to take notice and give thanks. Still again, we make choices in life. We can choose to look for beauty, goodness, and grace, or we can close our eyes, stop our ears, and howl like some wounded creature caught in a trap, damning all, refusing all, and loving nothing. We can be so inward turned as to find no joy in another’s joy, no compassion for another’s plight, and no desire to reach out and lift up someone who has fallen. Or we can recognize our own need to be loved and figure out that perhaps such is also true for everyone else in this world. We can search out beauty, and when it is found, we can cherish the finding, give thanks to God for such a blessing as this, and hold it in our heart for all time. As John Keats (1795-1821) tells us in his epic poem Endymion, “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.”

Gary

QUESTIONS

Why do we look up

to find God?

Is God in the sky?

Why do we imagine

heaven to be above

and hell below?

Do we not catch a

glimpse of heaven

on this earth?

Seeing a baby's

smile,

hearing the sound of

joy,

being held by someone you

love?

For sure it is a broken

world,

yet God is present

and God's deeds are done.

And even here on earth,

as in heaven,

tears are wiped away.

Gary

They Say

They say I am too small to play

They say I am not pretty or bright

They say I am different because I am gay

They say my thinking is not right

They say, they say, they say

But Jesus says I am a child of God

They say my skin is too black

They say my religion all wrong

They say why don't you go back

go back to where you belong

They say, they say, they say

But Jesus says I am a child of God

They say I don't talk like they do

They say be like the rest of us

They say can't you see it from our view

don't fight it, don't make such a fuss

They say, they say, they say

But Jesus say I am a child of God

But I am a child of God

Created in the very image

I am a child of God

A masterpiece God did finish

No matter what anyone else says

Jesus says I am a child of God

Gary

Mowing with our plastic mowers

Though indeed God is not far from each one of us. For “in him we live and move and have our being.”

– Acts 17:27-28

Lucas, two years old, is out mowing the yard, following behind his father with a plastic mower. Now you might think that Lucas is pretending to mow the lawn, that he is simply playing a game. But I think not. If I were to ask him what he is doing, he would most certainly answer, “I am mowing the lawn.” When dad and Lucas are done, the lawn will look quite beautiful, and Lucas will be proud of the job he has done.

We follow after Jesus with our plastic mowers. The grass gets cut. We are proud of our mowing.

Gary

PRAISE GOD FOR BROKEN COOKIES

Vivian baked some wonderful cookies a few days ago. I am not sure that “wonderful” is a way to describe something you eat, but they are wonderful, full of good stuff like raisins and oatmeal, thin and tasty. It happened that a few stuck to the baking sheet, and therefore broke while being moved from sheet to rack.

I asked if I could eat a couple. She said yes, but eat the broken ones. Then added, you can have as many of those as you want.

I thought, praise God for broken cookies.

The truth is they may not win any prize at the fair, but those broken cookies taste just as good as the “perfect” ones.

There are these words in the Old Testament that Christians believe describe Jesus: “. . . he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.” (Isaiah 53:2)

But on the inside . . . as Psalm 34 sings, “O taste and see that the Lord is good.” (Ps. 34:8)

What is so appealing to me about Jesus is not the miracles and the healings. What attracts me to him is his humanity, his compassion, his kindness, his desire to lift others up and to show them forgiveness.

The miracles and the healing are like that “perfect” cookie that is brought to the state fair and gets the purple ribbon. But the compassion and the kindness is like the broken cookie. For such can be found in any of us. We who know we are broken, who fail often and who get so afraid at times, we too can truly be like Christ in this world, in our compassion and our kindness, in our desire to lift others up and in our courage to forgive.

When someone would come to me and ask for help because he or she had a problem with alcohol, I would ask if I could contact a friend who belonged to AA, someone who understood what it is like to “have a problem with alcohol.” One broken child of God helping another broken child of God. Or as D. T. Niles said: “Christianity is one beggar telling another beggar where he found a loaf of bread.”

Blessed Christmas, dear reader, blessed Christmas. As you celebrate the birth of Jesus, as you gather with family and friends, as you exchange gifts and sing the old carols, please remember that for some this is a season of tears. A loved one is not present this Christmas. There is not enough money to buy presents this Christmas. He or she will sit at table alone this Christmas.

You and I will not fix it. But we can help. We can figure it out and we can do something . . . a hug, a word, an unexpected gift, some money, your presence.

Praise God for broken cookies. Praise God for one broken child of God helping another broken child of God.

Gary

A Question

If scripture
and faith 
and Church
do not
touch us
where we live,
then
why bother?


Gary

Anxious for Christmas

It was November 15. I was driving in town, slowed down to make a right turn and saw a pickup truck parked in a driveway. In the bed of the truck there was a Christmas tree. My first thought was, here is a family anxious for Christmas.

I know some people grumble about stores selling ornaments and cards too early, lights on houses and trees decorated in November. To some it seems wrong. They say, we used to wait until after Thanksgiving, but no more. We can’t wait.

The children can’t wait because they know there will be presents. I remember how anxious I was. Even though there would not be many gifts, I knew there would be something special for me under the tree. I still have the cap gun with the white belt and holster and the bow with the quiver for the arrows. I remember the extended family gatherings in our small home for the traditional Norwegian meal of lutefisk and boiled potatoes with lots of melted butter. I certainly remember the women saying, “We will not open any presents until we eat our dinner and the dishes are all put away.” For sure we children were anxious, saying, “Hurry up! Hurry up!”

But it is more than receiving gifts. We are anxious for Christmas because we like what it does to us. We give to others, write letters, gather with family and friends. We put money in a kettle to help people we don’t know. We greet each other and we make sure that those who are struggling to make ends meet have food on the table and toys for the kids. We even go to church in the middle of the week. We visit people in nursing homes. We who can’t sing, sing anyway. All because it is Christmas.

No, it’s never too early for Christmas.

Once again we reach out our arms to hold this baby near our hearts. We smile and relax just a bit, filled with the wonder of this life, so pure, so gentle. This child cannot help but change us for the better.

On that first Christmas night, the angel said to the shepherds, “Do not be afraid” (Luke 2:10). What is there to fear from a baby? A baby is powerless, with no guile, no anger, and no judgment, only needing from us without fearing we will not provide: simply trusting and content to be resting in our arms. This is how God came. This is Christmas. This one child. And for a time, perhaps too brief, our fears are taken over by our love for this child and he is able to change our hearts.

“This will be a sign for you,” the angel said to the shepherds, “you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger” (v. 12). At each Christmas we too find our way to this baby and are glad. The apostle Paul wrote to the congregation in the town of Colossae, “Jesus is the image of the invisible God . . . For in him the fullness of God was pleased to dwell” (Colossians 1:15, 19).

We will light the lights, decorate the tree, buy the gifts, send the cards, gather with family, and greet one another. All good, but we know deep within ourselves that all of it is only the wrapping. We know that the gift is the baby, this one particular child named Jesus. “You are to name him Jesus,” said the angel to Joseph, for he will save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21).

In Jesus, we are free to live life as fully and as joyfully as we will allow ourselves. For it is only we who hold ourselves back. God does not. For God has forgiven us in this baby and will not restrain us from living with sheer abandon, trusting in this gentle and gracious God, who keeps telling us, “Do not be afraid.”

When Christmas comes each year, we catch a glimpse of who we are meant to be in our giving, in our joy, and in our care for those with little power in this world.

We are better people at Christmas.

Of course we are anxious for Christmas.

Gary

Thanksgiving

It is the least selfish of days.

The most basic.

We gather to eat,

and to be with

those we love

and those who love us.

We celebrate life.

We say thanks for family

and all good things.

There is no expectation of

gift or card or decoration.

It is not Jewish or

Christian or Muslim or

atheist or agnostic,

or it is all of the above.

It is as plain as plain can be.

A table, chairs all around,

the smell of hot food and

the laughter of family

and friends.

Of course we are

thankful,

and do we not wish

that all of our days

could be as ordinary

as this.

Gary

It is of faith, but I am glad to have such faith, glad to have such hope

Brittany was terminally ill with brain cancer. The cancer brought terrible pain, and sometimes prevented her from speaking or recognizing her own family. There was no hope of a cure. Doctors had removed as much of the tumor as they could, but two months later it grew back. There was only the promise that it would get worse and she would eventually die. She and her husband moved to Portland, Oregon. On November 1, she took a drug that enabled her, in her words, to die on her own terms. Brittany was 29.

She said, “My glioblastoma is going to kill me and that's out of my control. I've discussed with many experts how I would die from it and it's a terrible, terrible way to die. So being able to choose to go with dignity is less terrifying."

Then this, "For people to argue against this choice for sick people really seems evil to me. They try to mix it up with suicide and that's really unfair, because there's not a single part of me that wants to die. But I am dying."

I have sat at the bedside of lovely people who embraced life, but who had come to a place where death looked to be a friend. My father came to that place. In my last conversation with him, he said, all I want to do is go to sleep and not wake up. I believe Brittany came to that place.

The article relating Brittany's story includes comments from a Wyoming woman who serves on a legislative committee that handles health issues in her state. “My sense is Wyoming would reject it (doctor-assisted suicide), . . . it would just be a flat 'no,' . . . That's my personal values as well: we don't get to pick. The big guy upstairs chooses when we go and when we stay.”

I am not a big fan of addressing God as the “big guy upstairs,” but more than that, I would argue that if one has never been in that place where living offers no hope, no joy, no pleasure, but only pain and loss and eventual death, then one should speak slowly or perhaps not at all.

This too. Does God go about choosing “when we go and when we stay,” as the woman from Wyoming states? Does God choose death for us?

When someone dies, especially someone young, we hear words like, “God must have needed another little angel.” Or, “God chooses only the very best.” Or, “God decided it was her time.”

I suggest to you, dear reader, another way of faith.

The Apostle Paul, in a letter to the congregation at Corinth, writes “The last enemy to be destroyed is death.” I Corinthians 15:26

Is it possible there is a battle going on? A battle between God and the enemy?

When his good friend, Lazarus, died, Jesus did not comment, “Well, it was his time to go. God's will. Because we all know, the big guy upstairs chooses when we go and when we stay.”

No. When his good friend died, Jesus wept. God cried. And we do too.

But more. God and God's people do battle against the forces of death: poverty, racism, prejudice, injustice, hunger, cancer, heart disease, diabetes . . . . all that strive to take life away.

Death is the enemy.

A decisive battle took place a long time ago, on a day we now call Good Friday. A young Jewish Rabbi, named Jesus, was put to death. His body was taken down from a cross and laid in a tomb. It seemed once again that the enemy had won.

But when some women come to the tomb early Sunday morning, he is not to be found.

Some, who had been his students, his followers, later said they saw him, talked with him, ate with him, were both surprised and glad at his appearing. They told others. The news has traveled down through the centuries, so we too have heard the tale and are free to tell it.

That long ago Sunday morning changed everything. That Sunday morning is a promise that the enemy will not have the final word. That Sunday morning is a glimpse into our future.

The raising up of Lazarus was a prelude to that Sunday morning. In the resurrection of Jesus from death to life, we are promised that we too will be raised up. We will be set back on our feet again in another part of God's kingdom, no less beautiful than this place called earth.

God's promise. Our hope.

Brittany wanted to live, but what she woke up to each morning was not life. The enemy had already won. She just surrendered early. I will not judge her. Neither should anyone else.

And what about God? God weeps.

One day I will die. As will you. I don't much care for the idea. But it will not be God who takes my life. Death is the enemy.

In the end, God will have the final word. Life. The last enemy will be defeated.

It is of faith for sure.

But I am glad to have such faith, glad to have such hope.

Gary

The light is better

A man is seen late at night, walking in slow circles below a street light, looking down. Another gentleman comes by and asks if he needs help. The first man answers that he is looking for his billfold. The second man asks, “Did you lose it close to this lamp post?” The first man responds, “No, I lost my billfold over there.” He points down the block into the darkness. “Then why are you looking over here?” “Well,” says the first man, “the light is better over here.”

I am angry at a friend, but I do not wish to hurt his feelings, so I say nothing. Then one day I say something to my wife in a joking way, but it is also a criticism and there is anger under the humor. The moment I say the words I know I wanted to say those words to the friend, but it is easier to say them to my wife. The light is better.

We do this. We yell at our children when we want to yell at our boss. We take it out on a co-worker when we are having trouble at home. We express frustration with a friend when we are really frustrated with ourselves. Because the light is better. It is easier. But the truth is never found.

Gary

Belonging

Jesus answered, “I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep.”

– John 10:25-26

We are used to hearing, even saying, “If you will believe as we believe, then you can belong with us; you can be a part of us, be a part of our community.”

In other words, believing comes first. Believe and then you can belong.

Which also means that if you do not believe, you cannot belong.

Jesus seems to be saying something else. Tag along with me, and let’s see what happens. Be a part of my community. Maybe faith will come.

In other words, belonging comes first. Belonging may lead to believing.

It works for children.

Gary  

Listening to Elvis or Usher

Vivian and I were preparing lunch. She took a pear, cut it in half, then moaned. “Look, it's black inside. I waited too long. I should have eaten it sooner, when it was fresh. We should buy food daily and eat it when it is fresh. I like my food fresh. I don't like old food. I don't like anything old.”

I thought about that for a moment, then responded, “You don't like anything old? Well that certainly does not bode well for me.”

Recently we traveled to Mt. Carmel, a retreat center near Alexandria, Minnesota, for a reunion of classmates from Luther Seminary. We graduated in 1969, so 45 years have passed.

Someone did the math. About 20 percent of our class is no longer with us on this earth. One couple, with plans to attend, had to stay home; the wife was diagnosed with cancer. Some of my old friends wear hearing aids, one has Parkinson's disease, a spouse told of her hip surgery, and most confess to various aches and problems with memory.

Besides the plain fact that we are all pretty old and get reminded of our mortality on a fairly regular basis, we also deal with retirement in different ways. Some got used to the idea in a couple of minutes. Others are having a more difficult time.

I don't know this for sure, but my best guess is that for some there is the real sense that they no longer have anything to contribute, they no longer have value. Maybe some of you reading these words understand that.

There is a prayer in the Old Testament entitled Psalm 71. It is the prayer of an older person, asking that God not forget. “Do not cast me off in the time of old age; do not forsake me when my strength is spent.” Then these words: “So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me.”

What I say now has been said by others with greater knowledge and insight, but hear it again. If you can identify with me and my seminary classmates, if you are of the same vintage, know that you do have value, that you do have much to contribute. We have what the young do not have yet. We have lived. We have experience. Oh, we may have trouble with technology, but we know something about humanity, about sadness and joy, loss and death. We have some understanding about what counts finally, what is important in life and what can be tossed aside.

May I say we have gained a bit of wisdom, which will not count for much when it comes to how to work the remote, but is a wonderful contribution when it comes to relationships. Is there perfection in us? Certainly not. We too are mighty sinners. But I noticed something at our four day gathering at Mt. Carmel. We laughed. We laughed a lot. We laughed at ourselves and with one another. This too, I heard no unkind word spoken, no complaint about another's presentation or question. We were kind to each other. We no longer had to prove anything or ask for approval. Not a bad lesson to learn early in life.

When we first enter this world, there is no expectation that we do anything in order to receive attention and affection. We are loved and cared for by just being. We are receivers, nothing more. I suggest that some of us will leave this world in the same way. Our bodies and our minds worn out, so we have nothing left to give. But we still are, and by just being we still have value.

You came into this world a child of God, created in the very image of God. That image does not fade with the passing of years. There may be lines on your face reflecting years of hard work and hard learning, but you are still God's little one, precious and loved.

If you, dear reader, are not yet at this place in life, then may these words encourage you to take note of those in your family or neighborhood who are, who would rather listen to Glenn Miller or Elvis (who, by the way, were he still living, would be celebrating his 80^th birthday next January) than Taylor Swift (a mere 25 in December) or Usher. Take note of these older folk and allow them to bring to the table of life what they have to offer: experience, wisdom, laughter, and some spare time.

You may not want to ask us old people to fix your computer or program your smart phone, but we could help you with some insights into how to raise kids, get along with your brother-in-law, live on a tight budget, or not take oneself too seriously.

For we will tell you that life really is short. So pay attention to what counts. Pay attention to things like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

You don't need an “app” for any of the above. They are bestowed upon us from above, from the God who created all things to be good. They are gifts, not to be stored away for a later day, but best opened now and used on a daily basis.

Recently, while visiting our son in Silver Spring, we took the metro to the Washington Mall. On the way home I got separated from Vivian and our daughter, so I was riding the train alone. I asked a woman sitting near about the station where I would exit the train. She told me which stop my station would follow. Then a man sitting next to her said, “I will tell you when we get to the station you need.” He did. I knew I would never see this good gentleman again, who had helped me on this brief journey, so as I got up to leave, I touched his shoulder and said, “Have a good life.”

It is what I say to you today, wherever you are on this journey. Have a good life.

Gary

Then the little children were being brought to him

in order that he might lay his hands on them and pray.

The disciples spoke sternly to those who brought

them; but Jesus said, “Let the little children come

to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as

these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.”

Matthew 19:13-15

RIGHT OUTSIDE MY DOOR

I am sitting in my favorite chair

reading the afternoon paper

when I hear the sound of the

kingdom of heaven.

I go to the window

and there,

right there,

on the sidewalk

in front of my house,

the kingdom of heaven,

riding their bikes,

running,

giggling,

telling secrets,

having a great time,

right outside my door.

Gary