24601: That is the number the prison gives to identify the man known as Jean Valjean, the protagonist in the book and musical, LES MISERABLES. 24601.  The number is not only given for identification, but also is thrown in the face of a man who carries a name, a family, a history…so that the penal system can remind him that he is “less than a man”…he is only a number.

That is what is what “the world” does best…it reduces humanity.  The world takes the fullness of life and reminds all of us that we are only a statistic, just a number in a vast sea of like numbers.

Depending on which circle one walks in, they are either one voice-type in a choir, a checking account number, an address, a blonde, a catholic, a poor person, a wacko.  The world will constantly reduce us to the least common denominator.  The world will do what is easiest, most efficient…and most degrading.

I remember the day I flew to Washington State with a medium-sized wooden box containing the ashes of my father.  Those ashes were all that was left of his body, after the world had its way…that, and a series of forms, two bags of odds and ends, and a few clothes.  This is what the world thought of him.  That is what the world thinks of you and me.  We may bask in greatness and popularity, or sulk in our inability to gain what we think we are worth…but either way, the world doesn’t care.  Don’t kid yourself, the world, as God Himself has said, is a prostitute who may flatter and tempt…but in the end you’re nothing more to her than a loaf of bread…if even that.

That’s what the world, with its popularity contests, worship of youthful beauty, and elevation of wealth and power above all things does to us.  However, the world does not define what LIFE is.  God defines LIFE.  And HE does the opposite of what the world does; instead of reducing humanity, God elevates, enhances, and fills humanity.

The scripture reminds us that God has elevated us, crowned us, claims us as children, and pronounces us heirs to the universe.  “Life” is not defined by the things that are left when our breath takes flight.  “Life” IS that breath, the very breath that was given us the day we first cried.  “Life” as God sees it, is something that not only lives forever, but is MORE real after we rid ourselves of these bodies and this world.  God does not see my father or mother as “ashes in a box”, but as individual, golden, perennial diamonds.  He knows them as Marge & Tom, the children for whom He would do anything, reach any depth, and fly across the universe to rescue.

We who Believe & Follow The Way are the bearers of THIS torch: that the world will flatter us, tempt us, beat us and try to kill us…but God is “not of this world” and this Age will be cleaned to make way for the next; an Age with homes for each of His children.  An Age ruled by the King who put on our skin so that we might trust Him, believe Him and follow Him…from the manger to the cross and through the tomb back to the Garden.

The only things from this Age that we will see in the next are each other.  Don’t let the world reduce you and define you…and more importantly, don’t be a part of the world’s conspiracy by reducing another person to something less than they are – our relationship to one another is the only true currency we take with us to The-Age-To-Come.  How we love them here and now, in this age, defines our love for God. So, let’s do for each other what God does for us: ELEVATE each other with words of praise, ENHANCE each other by sharing their gifts and giving them of ours, and FILL each other with acts of love that are unconditional.

“To love another person is to see the face of God.”
VICTOR HUGO, author of LES MISERABLES

“Dear friends, let us love one another, because love is from God,
and everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.”
I JOHN 4:7

I was in my car, on my way to Indianapolis.  I was in the right-hand lane (going the speed limit…really!) and a car drove past me, pulled in front of me and slowed down.  It was obvious, from my vantage point, that the driver of the car ahead of me was busy on his smartphone, texting.  I wasn’t really in a hurry, but did at least want to go the speed limit, so eventually I signaled and moved to the left lane.  This action apparently jarred the driver from his text conversation and made him upset as, to my amusement, he sped up the minute I was beside him so that I could not get around him.  I didn’t care, as I didn’t need to be in the right lane for a while.  After a few minutes he slowed down, abruptly passed behind me to the turn lane coming up on my left, honked and gave me a “sign” (and it wasn’t the sign of the cross).  I was a bit confused as to his anger with ME, but not enough to care.  I was more humored than anything else.

Oh, did I mention that he had a Greek “ichtus” (sign of the fish, the “secret” symbol Christians used to identify each other in the First Century) on his bumper?

I assumed the car was purchased by the current driver at a used car lot.

And once again the words of a friend came to me, “If your car has a bumper sticker about heaven, you probably shouldn’t drive like hell.”

 That quote is far-reaching implications for any of us who identify as Believers & Followers of Jesus.  If we are going to put our identity out there, we should probably BE what we advertise.  After all, I don’t expect to find SKITTLES in an M&M bag.  If M&Ms are advertised on the packaging, they had better be M&Ms inside.

Now we all do some things, as Believers & Followers, that some other Believers & Followers would call “unchristian.”  Example: as an actor I have been called upon to play characters that are NOT Believers & Followers.  One of those times, I had to carry (not smoke) a fake cigarette through most of the production.  A dear saint wrote a kind note to me, making her case that she thought it was inappropriate for a minister to carry a cigarette.  I, of course, disagreed…on several levels (1. a minister WASN’T carrying the cigarette, the character was, 2. I know several spirit-filled ministers who smoke, and 3. if you’re offended by THAT, then I could tell you a few other things about me that might make your hair curl…etc.) but what I actually said was that I was sorry she was offended and hoped that my carrying a fake cigarette around, as an actor, didn’t shatter her faith.  And I realized that in this large community we call the Kingdom of God, social norms, geographic boundaries, and tradition often define what some might think is “Christians behaving badly” while another group doesn’t see an issue.

At the core of the community should be the unity of the FRUIT OF THE SPIRIT, no matter what we wear, how we cut (or don’t cut) our hair, how we worship, when we worship…etc.  A person identifying as a Believer & Follower, either by carrying around a Bible, wearing a big cross, or even putting a bumper fish on their car need to at least PRACTICE (if not perFECT) love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control (GALATIANS 5:22-23).  These things, and not anything else, are the mark of those who believe Jesus is the Son of God and follow Him as sheep follow a shepherd.  If one is not willing to at least attempt, and practice these things, then they shouldn’t advertise they are something they are not.

I say “attempt, and practice” because many of us are not there yet.  However, the practice and attempt are obvious in people who DO practice and attempt to be who they claim.

Those who are obviously (by their lack of “fruit”) not who they profess to be give a bad name to those who ARE, because the world tends to paint all Believers & Followers with the same broad brush, and God gets a bad reputation.  The FRUIT OF THE SPIRIT; the evidence of a Believer & Follower’s roots, plays out in large and small ways, sometimes those ways are how we DRIVE, how we treat people we don’t HAVE to be nice to, how we tip, how we serve.

Jesus called this sort of false advertising “whitewashed tombs” (MATTHEW 23:27), a far more colorful description even than “If your car has a bumper sticker about heaven, you probably shouldn’t drive like hell.”

Even better is to make sure that one’s fruit of the Spirit is so self-evident that a bumper fish isn’t necessary.

Drive safely.  Advertise accurately.  Produce fruit.

It was a good time for me. I was in college, almost graduating, singing and performing, and enjoying life. I was also the “single male” among a few young couples, friends with little kids. For some reason, little kids loved me. The times I would go over to a friend’s house or apartment, and their kids were there, they would run to me like puppies. We would, inevitably, spend some time building a fort or I would sit as they showed me various things I needed to see: toys, projects, art, rocks they had found…etc. 

A memory of that golden time was triggered by something I saw on the street last week – the plastic arm of a baby doll, lying on the sidewalk.

One evening, as I sat in the apartment of some friends before we went out to dinner, their girl toddler (the youngest of two, the other being one year older and a boy) wheeled in her pink plastic stroller with what I assumed was her “baby”. She came over to me and I looked inside the stroller.

“Is that your baby?” I asked

“Ummhmm. Her name is Neenee.”

I looked in and was a little surprised to see a dismembered doll. Every bit of her in pieces; torso, arms, legs, and head…as if little Neenee was the victim of some plastic shark. Each of her delicate parts were carefully placed in the stroller, right where it they would, by nature, be. They just weren’t connected to each other. I wasn’t quite sure how to word my question.

“Umm…what…uh…why are her arms and legs (and smiling head!) not on her body?”

“Because Nathan (her brother, currently hitting something with a plastic hammer at this point) keeps hurting her. He breaks her when I’m not looking.”

“Oh,” I said. Then I whispered to her, hoping to once again prove myself to be their favorite non-related uncle, “Would you like me to put her back together?”

She whispered back to me conspiratorially, “No. I broke her all up myself this time.”

Confused, I said, “YOU did?”

“Uh-huh. That way he can’t hurt her any more…he can’t break her, she’s already broken.” 

The Philosophy minor in my head let her words settle in. The young theologian still forming in me said to catalogue this moment. Then I simply said, “She’s already broken.”

“Uh-huh. And also, I keep her in here now, with me…and he knows he can’t get past me…and I can beat him up, and I bite.” 

Violence aside, this moment, long forgotten, came back to me in a complete picture when I saw the baby doll arm on the sidewalk last week. I applied the moment, and the lesson, to a few people I know…and to me.

“You can’t break me now. I’m already broken…” 

…reminds me that I am weakest when I hold on to anything that people or circumstance can break. Any time I try to hold myself together, or worse, create false armor, I have only created something else for circumstance and people to break. Better I should let go of the rope before I get to the end of it. 

“You can’t break me now. I’m already broken…” 

…carries strength in the statement, resting in the knowledge that being broken isn’t always a weakness, and Jesus’ healing is almost never about putting things back the way they were. Restoration is always about placing someone in a better place than even before the “hurt”.

“You can’t break me now. I’m already broken…”

…isn’t the entire phrase, nor is it the entire truth. I can only speak for myself but knowing that no one can “break” me is only a piece of the armor. Being broken already might be a “so there!” moment to enemies. But the “mic drop” is that Jesus hasn’t left me there, He stays with me, knowing from the moment I was broken, that He would pick up the pieces and hold on to me. 

 He will stay with me. If any circumstance, any moment, or any person, plans to break me again…they will have to go through Him.

 PHILIPPIANS 1:21• COLOSSIANS 3:3 • ROMANS 8:35-39

As a child, I was first fascinated by theatrical productions not because of the performances, but because of the sets.  Now, more than ever, and after several years in professional and community theatre, I am fascinated by the craft of theatrical scenic design and execution.

To sit in an audience and KNOW, in your mind, that the space you are looking at is simply a box open to the audience, but what you see is a lavish, marble-paneled palace interior, or a forest, or a village green…that kind of “suspension of belief” is a skill and somewhat mysterious gift given to designers who often need to be engineers of sorts as well.

The process of making one thing look like another and putting the audience in a frame of mind, sucking them into the story, is still a wonderful experience for me.

When one takes a trip backstage to see the “magic” revealed, the experience can be, as it is for me and some others, an even more fascinating time.  However, for others, the magic is gone once they realize that what they see is not the truth: that brick wall is a façade of a quarter-inch plastic…that tree is made of papier-mâché, as are the solid-looking-weather-worn stones.  The sky?  Material with blue light on it…and the stars, merely electronics.

The  papier-mâché tree wouldn’t stand a light rain, much less a storm.  The house has only 3 sides and is made of cardboard, some would, some paint…no one in their right mind would actually want to LIVE there.  The stones wouldn’t support a small animal, much less be shelter or foundation for more building.  The set is only a reproduction and real only to the audience…and much of that is in their own minds.

INTEGRITY.  The word describes what is incorruptible, sound and complete.  Integrity is something that truly is, on the inside, what it appears to be on the outside.  If it looks like a tree or a stone, or a brick wall, on the outside…INTEGRITY demands that it BE a tree, or stone, or brick wall on the inside.

A related word, “sincere”, suggests completeness, wholeness…trueness.  It’s root from a practice, in Roman days, of filling in the cracks of poorly-made, or not so fine, marble columns with wax so that they would appear more perfect (more “integral”).  Of course, later on the hot sun would melt the wax and the buyer would realize that the “good deal on columns” was a bad deal for his house. So sellers began to advertise that their marble was “sine cera” (without wax)…where we get our English word, “sincere”.

Are you what you appear to be?  Do all of us present an “audience side” to those we want to please or “perform for”?  Sometimes we do.  Being “nice” is not what being a Believer & Follower is all about…being “good” is.  Nice is “façade”, put on for some, but not for others. “Good” implies that at our core we have the Spirit of God burning as a furnace and warming from the inside out.  The scripture warns us that a façade will not stand the test of life…eventually what is TRULY in our hearts will come through.  The papier-mâché of our own stage set will wear quickly away…and if there is nothing but chicken wire and cardboard behind it, our friends will know…worse, we will not have the strength to merely walk through life.

Let’s build from the inside out…start with a good designer, our Heavenly Father.

I am remembering a moment, a Christmas Eve in the living room, putting a massive toy of some sort together, as quietly as possible.  It’s something I wanted to get done quickly, it was late and I knew the boys would be up before dawn, wanting to get into the presents.  I was tempted to simply look at the picture on the package and build from that, except that this clever manufacturer had printed instructions that began with: “Please follow the instructions carefully, the designers and manufacturers of this product wish to do everything in their power to ensure your enjoyment and safety.” 

“…to ensure your enjoyment and safety.”

And I had another epiphany.  It was about something that had been in the news during that Christmas Season: The Ten Commandments.  Some city somewhere what’s going through some sort of thing about a stone in front of the courthouse and a manger scene and a menorah, or something.  Anyway I had either forgotten or suddenly realized the Ten Commandments (the Decalogue) are a prime example of “the Designer/Manufacturer’s…wish to do everything in His power to ensure our enjoyment and safety.”

The “Big Ten”, and even more so, “The Sermon on the Mount” are patterns for life in this time & place, written and “illustrated/acted out” by the One who created this time and place…and holds it together, with our help.  Said another way, “If you want enjoyment and safety here on earth…do this”.

Following rules and guidelines set by God aren’t exactly how we transition into the age-to-come. Jesus makes that clear.  Jesus says it is by our faith that we are restored by the grace of His Father.  It is a gift from His Father and our Father that we can be restored to the ideal created in Eden, and remain close to God, in THIS age and into the age-to-come.

We don’t stand next to the Father and walk with Him through eternity because of who WE are, but because of who HE is.

Jesus spent His time as a Teacher on earth trying to re-explain, clear up misconceptions and help us see His Father in a new light.  He was clear in what was, and is, expected of those who BELIEVE & FOLLOW, but His emphasis was on active love between each other…in response to the great gift given to us by His Father, NOT as some sort of test to see if we should “get into heaven.”

The TEN COMMANDMENTS and THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT make practical sense in this created world.  These are the “directions” for living well, with our Creator and with each other.  I’d go so far as to say, even the most spiritually-insensitive could benefit from living in this world according to these words and guidelines.

But again, these words are about LIFE, in the here-and-now. These words aren’t the “magic potion” that “gets us to the age-to-come. The Apostle Paul was also clear that we all fail.  We fail on purpose and innocently.  And when we do, Jesus stands to defend us as someone who has worn our skin, seen with our eyes, and walked our path.  The fear of disappointing and offending God, which many of us grew up with, is something that doesn’t necessarily (or always) come from God. However, we should appropriately fear and respect a Being with the power to obliterate even our very souls with a blink of His eye…and yet chooses not to.

Does God sit in heaven, yearly “going over the books” and writing or erasing each of our names according to our deeds, good and bad?  I honestly am not there to witness that or see it.  I can only tell you what the scripture, the Spirit, and my own experience with God tells me: He would race across the universe to merely give us a hug.  He is completely and totally wrapped up in us…for us, it’s all about God, and for God life is completely about us.

His concern is not only that we are with Him and He is with us, forever…but also that we LIVE that “full life” starting now, in the HERE-and-now…so that we can continue to enjoy that life in the age-to-come.

Our Father, the Creator (Manufacturer), has designed the world we live in. He has given us instructions in both the Old and New Testaments…and has given us the Spirit to continually teach, guide, and empower us to live, to really LIVE, now…and “across the Jordan”. 

And we can LIVE, a embarrassingly extravagant life…by following the Designer & Manufacturer’s instructions to ensure our enjoyment and safety…in a better world.

Warner Elias Sallman, a first-generation American (his parents were immigrants from Finland and Sweden), sang in his local church choir in Chicago.  It was there he met his wife, Ruth in 1916.  He was an artist who apprenticed with some of the best local illustrators and painters during the day, while attending the Chicago Art Institute at night.  In 1924 he was commissioned by a denominational magazine for a charcoal sketch of the head of Jesus.

Using a physical description of Jesus, supposedly written by a Publius Lentulus (Roman Consul during the reign of Augustus, and Governor of Judea prior to Pontius Pilate), Warner followed the description set out by the letter and sketched a head.  Here is an excerpt from the letter (there are several questions about its authenticity, however, it is the only physical description available):

“…He is a man of medium size, he has a venerable aspect, and his beholders can both fear and love him. His hair is of the color of the ripe hazel-nut, straight down to the ears, but below the ears wavy and curled, with a bluish and bright reflection, flowing over his shoulders. It is parted in two on the top of the head, after the pattern of the Nazarenes. His brow is smooth and very cheerful with a face without wrinkle or spot, embellished by a slightly reddish complexion. His nose and mouth are faultless. His beard is abundant, of the color of his hair, not long, but divided at the chin…”

A few years later he turned his several sketches into an oil painting, he was asked to replicate that painting for another group, and executives from The Warner Press Company (publishing arm of The Church of God) first saw it then.  Warner Press created an arm of their company, which would own the copyrights and distribute copies of the painting.  For the next 30 years Sallman’s HEAD OF CHRIST was distributed throughout the world.  Churches, clubs, service organizations all used this remarkable portrait.  The USO printed small copies to be given to every soldier, sailor and airman who enlisted.  Eventually it become the most recognized and popular picture of Jesus known.  Warner Press eventually acquired total rights to this and some 100 other well-known, and not-so-well-known paintings, sketches and illustrations by Warner Sallman…and all of them, including the HEAD OF CHRIST, are right her in Anderson, Indiana where Anderson University regularly displays them in their galleries.

For many, this is the picture that comes to mind when someone says the name, “Jesus”.  It is the product of a questionable description and a gifted Christian artist…but it is not Jesus.

This beautiful painting should serve as a reminder, to all who believe and follow, that God is not to be so narrowly defined that we would refuse to get to know Him.  The scripture, specifically the Gospels in the books of the New Covenant, remind us that Jesus-in-the-flesh stepped into a church that had SO NARROWLY defined God that they not only didn’t recognize Him when He stepped into their church, THEY CONSIDERED HIM THEIR ENEMY.  The church spends a lot of time defining God, refining His mind, His preferences, His “rules”…so much so, that any time God does something out-of-the-ordinary (“para physin”, as Paul would say) or blesses/calls/sends/anoints someone whom other “Christians” would consider inappropriate…then they/the church once again has created God in ITS image, and not visa versa.

The vastness of greatness and personality, the unfathomable mercy, love and grace that comes from our Heavenly Father is, to our minds, limitless…surprising…uncomfortable.  And that is as it should be.  We who “Believe & Follow: need to be reminded that is our calling: to BELIEVE and FOLLOW, but not to define and lead-by-proxy.  God will love and bless whom He loves and blesses.  He will call into His Kingdom anyone of His choosing.  He is not defined by our limited understanding of love, mercy or justice.  He is not to be framed into the narrowness of an “image” or painting, but He IS to be sought after as a friend who surprises us daily with new facets of His personality.

Creative and visual learners will continually look to define, visually,  concepts and people, to define our thought and philosophy.  But when it comes to assuming what God does and does not think, we should tread very, very carefully, trust the Spirit, and measure against the Scripture… 

…because we don’t want to be a congregation that has Warner Sallman’s HEAD OF CHRIST hanging in the narthex but wouldn’t recognize Jesus if he stood among us during our post-worship Coffee Hour.

Our calling is to BELIEVE Jesus is who He says He is,
and to FOLLOW Him, wherever He chooses to lead us.
Let JESUS be JESUS and trust Him to define Himself.

…that is how we become & identify as BELIEVERS & FOLLOWERS.

“I don’t believe in God anymore,” I overheard her say to a friend on the phone, while we were both in line at KROGER, “I just know too many hypocrites.” 

I was so happy to have a theme for my BLOG that I didn’t turn around and say, “So if you saw a man walking on the streets of Anderson with bad hair, would you stop believing in barbers, too?” 

Seriously, when John Hinckley tried to assassinate President Reagan, in an effort to appease the actress Jodi Foster, did anyone blame JODI FOSTER?  I know it’s difficult, because for many people Christians are the only reflection of God they see – but please, let’s not blame God for some (not all) of His followers.

This overheard conversation was on the heels of another that I was a part of, just days before, where an acquaintance stated that they had stopped going to their church, after 2019/2020, because they don’t like the new Pastor.  That all may be true, and his Pastor may indeed be a moron…but is worship/faith/congregational life about the Pastor…or the sanctuary…or hypocrites…or the worship style?

On the other hand, is WORSHIP/CHURCH-GOING and BELIEF something we sigh and shoulder, like medicine, or in-laws, or spin class?  Absolutely not.  Belief/ Worship should unlock doors, unclip wings, open windows…and, in short, set us free!

Unfortunately, Belief and Worship are so strongly tied to individual paradigms, preferences, history and deep-seated emotion that it is difficult to separate all of that from what Worship actually requires.

You and I have songs which suddenly stir up memories and cause us to feel secure, safe, loved…and we want to hear that song in worship (for some it’s AMAZING GRACE and others, LORD, I LIFT YOUR NAME ON HIGH)…it’s what makes worship wonderful for us.  However, does my pew-mate, who doesn’t have MY history or sentiment, feel the same way?  Of course not.  My world does not necessarily define THEIR world.

One congregation, where I ministered, had an extraordinarily-great Sacred Dance team; professional and beautiful.  Sitting on the same pew, experiencing the same worship moment of dance, one parishioner said that she had a problem with dance in the sanctuary because dance was “of the devil”, as she had been taught.  In the same pew was a deaf worshipper who said that she was always thrilled when we had dance because it was the ONE part of worship that didn’t need to be “interpreted” for her.  

The woman who didn’t enjoy the dance realized the truth that dance isn’t “of the devil”, but her paradigm and history with dance colored her perception of it in worship, it was generational and based on childhood experience and teaching.  The non-hearing worshiper, who had no other experience in church, had no such preconceptions.  The first lady wasn’t going to leave the church or stop worshiping because she didn’t enjoy the dance, and the second wasn’t defining ALL of worship by her emotional tie to dance, and limited personal experience of worship…I think BOTH were wise in their decisions. 

I like hamburgers (I get that from my Dad), and I mourn that red meat no longer likes me.  But, in the day, I preferred BURGER KING over McDONALDS, when it came to burger prep.  On the other hand, McDONALDS had BURGER KING beat when it came to milk shakes and fries (in MY opinion).  BOTH franchises sell burgers but the rest is up to personal preference, or what “speaks to me” (shakes and fries DO speak to me).

I prefer worship like ours at Central, with scripture, prayer, hymns from the hymnal, communion, pipe organ and some good tradition.  Somewhere in town, however, is a church that doesn’t own any hymnals, the Pastor might read one scripture and the songs go on, one after another, for 30-45 minutes…after that the Pastor preaches for an hour…and the congregation LOVES it.  Both congregations worship (that’s the burger), but one congregation prefers their worship (burger) with ketchup and the other with mayo.  Is one correct and the other wrong?  No.  If one is unhappy with their worship should they cease believing?  No.  Should they find a worship pattern that speaks to them?  Yes.  As long as they’re serving burgers¸ then it’s just a matter of finding the way one likes it prepared.

When a worshiper sits in worship unhappy and tense because they don’t like the songs, the pastor, the “style”…should they stop believing in worship?  Of course not…what they don’t like isn’t “worship”, it’s the peripherals.

When a person labeling themselves as “Christian” treats another human being in a manner that would make Jesus wanna slap ‘em upside the head…should we stop believing in God?  Of course not, the problem isn’t God, it’s the Follower.

At the heart of “Belief” AND “Worship” are the same elements: Spirit & Truth / Heart & Mind.  Everything else is flexible.  Everything else is commentary.  Everything else is a “condiment.”

JOHN 4:7-26
A woman of Samaria came to draw water.
“Give Me a drink,” Jesus said to her, for His disciples had gone into town to buy food.
“How is it that You, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a Samaritan woman? ” she asked Him.
For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.
Jesus answered, “If you knew the gift of God, and who is saying to you, ‘Give Me a drink,’ you would ask Him,
and He would give you living water.”
“Sir,” said the woman, “You don’t even have a bucket, and the well is deep. So where do You get this ‘living water’?
You aren’t greater than our father Jacob, are You? He gave us the well and drank from it himself,
as did his sons and livestock.”
Jesus said, “Everyone who drinks from this water will get thirsty again.
But whoever drinks from the water that I will give him will never get thirsty again — ever!
In fact, the water I will give him will become a well , of water springing up within him for eternal life.”
“Sir,” the woman said to Him, “give me this water so I won’t get thirsty and come here to draw water.”
“Go call your husband,” He told her, “and come back here.”
“I don’t have a husband,” she answered.
“You have correctly said, ‘I don’t have a husband,’” Jesus said.
“For you’ve had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have said is true.”
“Sir,” the woman replied, “I see that You are a prophet.
Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, yet you Jews say that the place to worship is in Jerusalem.”
Jesus told her, “Believe Me, woman, an hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You Samaritans worship what you do not know. We worship what we do know, because salvation is from the Jews. But an hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth. Yes, the Father wants such people to worship Him. God is spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth.”
The woman said to Him, “I know that Messiah, is coming” (who is called Christ).
“When He comes, He will explain everything to us.”

“I am He,” Jesus told her, “the One speaking to you.”

It’s possible that many have never heard of Herb & Dorothy Vogel.  Herb was a Postal Worker in Manhatten (he passed away fourteen years ago), and Dorothy (who passed away only last year) a reference librarian in Brooklyn.  They were a quiet, cute couple (as described by friends) she was “bookish” and he “cuddly”.  They lived for 50 years in a 450-square-foot apartment in NYC, Herb never made any more than $23k-a-year.  And they never used any of his income to live off of…just hers, which was less…minimal.  They lived simply, ate TV Dinners, didn’t indulge in much except for some pets and one other hobby, which they were passionate about…art.

Herb had some training in Art History/Appreciation, as a young man, and introduced Dorothy to the art world (she was a theatre-music gal) on their honeymoon in Washington, DC (1962).  Through the years they slowly, carefully bought art they loved.  They were not investors nor art dealers, they simply found pieces they both enjoyed and made sure that they purchased them at a “good price”.  Along the way they made friends with several of the artists from whom they purchased: twentieth century painters in need of money…for the most part…thus, the “good deals”.  They only purchased things that they would want up on their walls, and could transport on the subway.  They also went about their hobby with a plan, they educated themselves along the way, they enjoyed their friendships with the artists…and continued to live quiet, frugal, unassuming lives.

It was in the ‘80’s that they realized their lifelong passion of collecting could not be housed in their apartment…so they decided to donate.  Herb had already retired, and when Dorothy retired in 1990 they gave their collection to the National Gallery (strikingly, where Herb had first introduced Dorothy to art appreciation) because the gallery was free to the public and has a policy against “deaccessioning”, meaning their art would never be sold.

Workers from the National Gallery came to NYC and unloaded an unbelievable 2400 works from the Vogel apartment in 5 40-foot trucks.  When the gallery realized that the Vogels had not invested, they paid the Vogels an annuity as a “thank you” for their donation…which the Vogels promptly used to purchase more art…they couldn’t help it, it was their passion.

“If we wanted to make money, we would have invested in the stock market.” said Dorothy. 

Their collection is now considered to be the most important collection of 20-century art in the United States…and what the curator of the National Gallery calls, irreplaceable and priceless.

“Ars Gratia Artis” a Latin phrase translated from a French philosophic idea (art pour l’art) and translated into English as “Art for Art’s Sake” sums up their belief that art speaks for itself and beauty is worth investing in, simply for the sake of preserving beauty. You’ve probably seen this Latin phrase often, if you’ve ever watched a film produced by MGM…it’s on their logo, in the ribbon that surrounds their famous lion.

I found this story incredible on many levels, as an artist and a Believer.

The VOGELS followed their God-given passion.  Although I know nothing of their spiritual lives except that they were/are by ethnicity, Jewish.  Their story shows that God gave them a passion that they followed…against the odds.  They were not the “type” of people others in the world might view as “art collectors”…they didn’t care.  They did what they believed in and let others think what they would.

The VOGELS made a plan and worked the plan.  They didn’t just jump in “willy-nilly”. They educated themselves in their passion.  They methodically, economically and prudently enjoyed the fruit of their love of art.  So many Believers/Followers seem to think that God does NOT work hand-in-hand with our minds and heart…that once a passion (a sermon idea, a song, a project) is planted by Him in our hearts that we then just sit back and listen to His instructions and become robots to His suggestions…which is not evident in ANY place in the scripture or ANY life illustration we see today.  God implants a vision/passion and asks us to partner with Him, to hone our skills, to learn and use our brains to polish and construct what He has given us.

The VOGELS left a legacy of beauty…even though THAT was not necessarily a part of THEIR plan.  In the end were they shocked to hear that their small apartment housed the greatest gift of 20^th-Century art anywhere in the United States…that will be enjoyed by millions for years to come?  Did they understand that their belief in artists who were NOT getting the attention of critics at the time, inspired those artists to more greatness?  Did they write that down as part of their methodical plan…no.  But God-given passion* (*and love of things beautiful, good and true ALWAYS comes from God, to the Believer and the Non-Believer alike…God does NOT discriminate)is like all energy, power that does not dissipate.

The Kingdom Principle of a seed becoming a tree is evident in this story as well.

What does this mean for me?  It reminds me to: Follow my God-Given passion, use my God-given mind to carve and polish, and know that love of what is good, beautiful and true is never wasted once I’m gone. 

Then I heard a voice from heaven saying,
“Write: The dead who die in the Lord from now on are blessed.”

“Yes,” says the Spirit, “let them rest from their labors, for their works follow them!”
REVELATION 14:13

Miss LaClaire, Miss Just, Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Van Dyke, Mrs. Goranson, Mrs. Stankman, Mr. McNamara.  When Graduation comes around I go through these names and memories again.  I may not remember everything they ever taught but I remember every name and face of the teachers I had through Grade School (6th Grade).  And when I read the paper and see the names and faces of those Graduating I find it difficult to put my trust in these young kids…if it wasn’t the trust I had in their educators. 

If I can remember each name of each teacher I had in those “formative” years AND the names of most, if not all of my Middle School, High School and University teachers…they must have had SOME impact.  I thank God for those who teach.  It is sometimes a thankless but glorious job to stand at the gate and train those who must pass through to the next leadership time.  At times I have an epiphany and think that my parents weren’t so crazy after all when they mourned about MY generation and I think of this great quote:

“I’m trying very hard to understand this generation. They have adjusted the timetable for childbearing so that menopause and teaching a sixteen-year-old how to drive a car will occur in the same week.”- Erma Bombeck (U.S. humorist, 1927-1996)

But as much as I remember (or don’t) about those that taught me to read, write, add and subtract…it’s these names that I remember more, and hold even closer to my heart…Pearl Mohler, Delpha Reiboldt, Della Nunez, June Clinebell, Violet Van Hoose, Jean Martin, Eloise Woods…These were my Sunday School teachers from the time I was in the Nursery through my High School years, at HIGHLANDS CHURCH OF GOD in Kennewich, Washington.  These women not only taught me the stories of Scripture (using everything from flannel graphs to play dough and puppets) but they LOVED me and when I was at my home church, I was as much at home as I was with my parents in our home.  To those remarkable people, all gone except for one now, I give thanks to God.

As the years run by and each new “class” walks through the pages of the Herald Bulletin and through the halls of Central Christian Church, let’s thank God for the people He has placed in our children’s path, to teach, train and lead.  Let us always pray for our children’s safety and wisdom for teachers.

As much as we may shake our heads at some of the things we see with each generation, it is good to know that some things haven’t changed in a millennium, and through those years, teachers were always held as precious:

“What nobler employment, or more valuable to the state, than that of the man who instructs the rising generation?” Marcus Tullius Cicero (Ancient Roman Lawyer, Writer, Scholar, Orator and Statesman, 106 BC-43 BC)

“Thank you.”  To all at Central who teach, who have taught, who will teach.  I also thank those who teach our own Church small groups, as well as those who have taught and are teaching in the public school system…God smiles on you.

“Teach the youth about the way they should go;
even when they are old they will not depart from it.”
PROVERBS 22:6

On a recent trip there was a moment we were surrounded, on all sides, by families with children.  As I age, I have a “love/hate” relationship with crowds.  I like to watch people, especially from other cultures, all together, vacationing: multiple languages, ages…I find that entertaining.  On the other hand, especially the older I get, I am not a fan of crowds.  I still like to be around people, but more and more I like to be on the outside looking in, rather than the middle.

My favorite pastime is observing and learning from human nature, and so, as in any vacation, I found a spot where I could sit and observe.  I love watching people interact, I love multiple cultures together in one place (family and friend dynamics don’t seem to change with the culture or language) and I ALWAYS find: if you’re searching for God to speak to you, He will. 

I sat and watched, on a crowded boulevard, as literally hundreds of families, couples, singles passed by shops and cafes.  Some were families, some couples, some singles, some groups of teens or groups of men, groups of women.  I could hear English, Spanish, Italian, Japanese, some Russian, and some German (or Dutch?)…in any case it was a beautiful sight…from a distance.

The children are especially fun to watch, and parenting, even within one ethnic group and/or age, is always a source of conversation. In this case, there were lots of kids.  I began watching one small boy in particular.  He was small, maybe 4 or 5 years old.  He was Italian (I recognized, though could not translate, the language).  He was seemingly alone…that’s why I kept an eye on him – to see if any parent or sibling was nearby.  He had been distracted by a very colorful car, and was looking in to see if he could get inside.

Suddenly, as if realizing he was in a sea of strangers, some 6 people deep, he stopped and looked around – turning quickly one way and then the other – as his face turned from joy to panic.  I could see from his face he was about to cry, feeling what HE wouldn’t have been able to label, but I could – abandonment.

He shouted at the top of his little lungs, “Papa!”  Again and again, turning, looking, eyes wide with a little fear.  It all happened in an instant, but probably seemed like ages to him.

Then, the tall young father, who had been standing some 2 feet away, his back turned, turned around and their eyes locked.  The little boy stepped to him, and the man easily lifted him up, kissed him and said one of the few Italian words I could translate: “Sono qui.” (“I am here.”).

In a flash, and with yet another thankful prayer to the Spirit, I saw a “life picture” of mine, which has played over and over:

I pull away.

I am surrounded by the crowd of strangers.

I feel danger.

I feel abandoned.

I cry out…

…only to find that God has never left my side.

He lifts me up, kisses me and says, “I am here.”

This season of life, both mine and ours (in this time and place) I need to remember that I may pull away, but HE never does.  As close as a hand, a hug…and a kiss…is my Jesus.