I began playing the piano regularly, around 64 years ago this year. Not only is that number astounding to me, as is looking in the mirror these days, but I’m thinking about how the piano (and music in general) became such a natural part of my personality – and how that all began. I’m starting to take some memories from the back of the “filing cabinet” of my mind…and I thought today about my first “RECITAL”.

Probably one of the most colorful figures to enter my world (and this is saying a lot) was my first piano teacher. She was larger than life, a chronic smoker with the voice and cough to prove it, fingers crippled with arthritis (though she could still play amazingly well) and everything in her house was pink. At Christmas she had an aluminum tree with pink ornaments, and a rotating color wheel on the floor…going to my piano lessons during Christmas was like a trip to Vegas.

After about a year of lessons, or a little less, she introduced me to a new word, “recital”. She explained what it was and chose a piece for me to play. I still have the sheet music. It is framed and sitting beside my piano, to this day. The piece was prophetically titled, “IN CHURCH” (by June Weybright), and it was published the year I was born.

We worked hard on it, she coached me on every “nuance” and reminded me that simply playing every note correctly was not enough – I needed to convey feeling and emotion that my little brain had yet to experience.

Then one day, knowing this was my first recital (and I was undoubtedly her favorite student), she packed me in her Eisenhower-era car and took me to the venue where the recital would take place; appropriately, a church.

It didn’t look like the church I went to, it was a bit fancier, as I remember, and larger. Maybe a little intimidating. There were dark open beams in the ceiling, there where stained-glass windows with pictures of Bible stories. There was brass and there were candles everywhere…I had never actually been in a place like it before. She showed me where I would sit, prior to playing. She led me along the path to the piano and told me to take my time getting comfortable on the bench, then take a deep, slow, breath, and place my fingers to begin. She taught me how to bow, one hand on the piano, facing the audience. Then she stood there and asked me to play the piece. I did.

Then she said, “I’m going to ask you to play it again. But this time I’m going to the back of the room to make sure I can hear you.”

She moved to the back of the sanctuary and asked me to play it again. She clapped when I was finished and reminded me to stand and bow.

Then she asked me to play it again. This time, she warned, she was going to try to distract me, but no matter what she did, or what sounds I heard, I was to continue to play – “Imagine it’s just you and the piano alone in the church”, she said. I sat down, took my deep breath, placed my fingers on the keys, and started playing.

Suddenly, a cacophony of hideous sounds came out of her mouth. Having a smoker’s voice, and a loud one, the sounds were almost inhuman. Had the movie been made at that point (and had I been allowed to see it) I would’ve compared the sounds to the voice of the demon in little Regan’s body – in the film “THE EXORIST”. I concentrated as she screamed, I closed my eyes and played as she pounded on the back of the pews in back and stomped her feet. I endured, shutting it all out. And in the end, she applauded (and whistled) and I bowed…and then we both burst out laughing.

I had never seen an adult of her variety behave like that, in all my short years of life to that point. It was incredible. But she reiterated, “There will be many people here. Some will be here to hear you specifically; some won’t want to be here. Some people may be here for THEIR first recital. You will hear all sorts of sounds: people coughing, shuffling, children, babies crying, people whispering…you just listen for the music and play like you’re the only one in the room.”

It’s a lesson I’ve held on to through a lifetime of recitals, concerts, performances, and public speaking events. And it is a lesson I’ve applied to life.

Some people will always be present to cheer you on.
Some will be there to hope you fail.
Some don’t want to be there.
Some have no idea where they are.
But you: set your course. Look to the goal.
Take it all in, but don’t let it distract you from your purpose.

The Bible says it this way: “Therefore, since we also have such a large cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that so easily ensnares us. Let us run with endurance the race that lies before us, keeping our eyes on Jesus, the source and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that lay before Him endured a cross and despised the shame and has sat down at the right hand of God’s throne. HEBREWS 12:1-2

What is “your recital” piece? What is your purpose and goal? This is the perfect time of year to figure out who you are and why. Once you do, once you know who you are and what your purpose is in this time and place. And once God puts His hand on your shoulder, smiles, and “leads you to the piano”, get comfortable, take a deep breath, put your fingers on the keys…

…and play your song.

Detectives and investigators “dig deep” in search for factual information. Medical laboratory scientists “dig deep” in search for causes of diseases AND for medications that may manage, if not eliminate, any illness or its symptoms. Inventors “dig deep” in their efforts to bring into reality their imaginative ideas, but unfortunately, some ideas lead to destructive weaponry as well as beneficial creations that may better the life of us all. Ministers “dig deep” in search for insightful, educational, and redemptive sermons. Farmers “dig deep” in an effort to obtain excellent yields in crops and livestock; over the long years farming methods have changed dramatically.

In my own lifetime, companies improve their product, and the telephone is an excellent example as I recall the old four party crank phones at my grandparents’ home which stand in stark contrast to the wonders of today’s smartphone.

When I was preaching from the pulpit every Sunday during my career as a congregational pastor, the biggest compliment that anyone could say to me as they left the service was “I have never heard it that way before!” In college I earned a teacher’s certificate in history for secondary schools, and my love for teaching shaped every sermon over forty years! Thus, “digging deep” was an apt description of sermon preparation…a trait I appreciate in Pastor Rick.

As citizens of a nation in which our freedoms rest in the hands of the judiciary branch, the question arises, “what is justice?” Obviously, justice rests upon rightly interpreting laws under which we all live and work. It is important to remember that laws not only define what is criminal, but it also defines the process by which guilt or innocence may be imputed, that is, a process of justification beyond reasonable doubt. The judicial process is one of “digging deep”.

Justice, then, is basically defined as fairly determining guilt or innocence and administering appropriate consequences when fault is found. Not everyone agrees, of course, but justice is bound by law.

But, biblically speaking, justice is NOT defined by law but by grace. God declares the faithful sinner “justified”…WHEW! Now we all have to “dig deep” to grasp justice as grace. By grace through faith in Jesus Christ, Son of God, we are justified, that is, declared as “without sin.” Here’s the problem: We who live in Christ…still sin.

So, let’s “dig deep.” When God declared the believer to be justified, it means that God has removed the penalty of spiritual death, and by grace, God grants us eternal life (zoe) which God only can grant through the “shed blood” of Christ. We cannot declare ourselves as “just” nor can the Church declare us to be “just.” Only God. Even though the faithful still sin, and God does NOT excuse or ignore our sin, in Christ the sinner is restored to God’s favor. Freely given favor!

That’s not all. ‘Gotta keep “digging deep!” The faithful are justified by Christ’s “shed blood” (Rom. 3:21-26) Here is what we often fail to understand: The Apostle Paul declared, “it is not I who lives, but Christ within me!” Christ’s shed blood covers us all, and therefore, we take on ourselves the life of Christ. This is the meaning of resurrection” From the familiar Easter Hymn, “He Lives! He Lives! How do I know He Lives? He lives within my heart!’

That’s not the whole story. Now, in Christ, we are commissioned to bring justice into the world. If a person is hungry, we feed him/her. If anyone is naked, we clothe them. If anyone is oppressed (treated unfairly), we free them. We forgive others as well as ourselves. We are not only “saved by grace through faith in Jesus, but we also live by grace! In Christ justice is not about demanding the consequences of law, rather, it is about covering with OUR BLOOD (time, income, resources, etc.) the deepest human need. Now, that’s digging deep!

Whew! You would think that, at my age (mid 70s), I could put my shovel in the shed and quit digging! Far from it! I feel as if I have just begun the journey of faith. 

Please! Keep bringing me a glass of cold water while I keep digging!

My favorite Broadway musical of all time is “THE MUSIC MAN”.  There is something about the combination of the setting: America at the turn of the century, the story-unique boy-meets-girl, the music-ballads, dances, barbershop quartets, bands.  But I also know that I’ve been influenced by both the movie AND the fact that it was the first musical I ever performed in, as a sophomore in High School.

Robert Preston, as Professor Harold Hill (even though Jack Warner asked both Frank Sinatra and Cary Grant to do the role before it was given to Preston) is definitive as the con man who changes his life through the love of a good woman.  In the story, however, he must “sell” the Iowa town folk on the idea of a Boys Band (not the Backstreet Boys, something completely different).  He isn’t a musician, can’t read a note, but he sells them instruments and uniforms and “cons” them into believing.

The technique he uses?  He reveals a serious “issue” in the town that they’re not even aware they have, and who can save them from this seed of degradation that has infiltrated their little prairie town? Prof. Harold Hill, of course!  And so we have the song, TROUBLE; “O, ya got trouble…right here in River City, with a capital-T, that rhymes with P and that stands for POOL”  – not a swimming pool, mind you, but a pool table.

Here Professor Hill has actually CREATED trouble, this pool table could’ve gone unnoticed except for the Professor’s sermon. He needed to CREATE trouble so that he could be the “hero”, and make out, literally, “like a bandit”!

It’s an old, old technique, a technique that Advertising Gurus have been using for years: to create a situation that can only be solved through their product.  Who has heard of “ring around the collar”, or “cellulite”?  Before advertising, these things were just called “dirt” and “fat”!

TROUBLE comes in all forms, and TROUBLE comes to all people.  Churches experience all kinds of trouble: economic trouble, growth trouble, a leaking roof here, not enough teachers there, sickness in the winter, simple-minded preachers, etc.  The Church doesn’t NEED any help, when it comes to trouble, in other words, the Church doesn’t need any Harold Hills; someone to CREATE a problem so that they can solve it.  The Church doesn’t need a hero to save them from trouble, the Church needs a pilot to steer them through trouble.

Being a Believer & Follower of Jesus has its own advantages and disadvantages. Let’s be honest, in some ways, being a disciple is not an easy choice OR an easy thing to do. There are troubles from within and without, many of which cannot be avoided.

But what every Believer & Follower has, and what the Church has, is not a “Harold Hill”, but a “Captain Von Trapp”!  A Captain/Pilot who can lead us through the dangers, who knows where the rocks are, who knows when the wind will be foul, who knows the currents and tides like the back of his hand, who knows what we will face and promises to guide us through it (“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me…”).  We have someone with us always, who has been there before.

As I’m writing, I can’t help but hear the voices of my home congregation sing one of my father’s favorite hymns:

Jesus, Savior, pilot me
Over life’s tempestuous sea
Unknown waves before me roll
Hiding rock and treacherous shoal
Chart and compass come from Thee
Jesus, Savior, pilot me 

When the darkling heavens frown
And the wrathful winds come down
And the fierce waves, tossed on high
Lash themselves against the sky
Jesus, Savior, pilot me
Over life’s tempestuous sea
(words by Edward Hopper) 

No one needs “Christians” to create trouble so that others will believe they are being “persecuted”.

We don’t need anyone to create trouble so that their own egos are inflated by making others look bad.

And we certainly don’t need anyone to create trouble so they can appear to be our “hero”…

…we HAVE a Hero. 

He doesn’t take away the trouble, He goes AHEAD of it.
He stands with us in the MIDDLE of it.
He marches with us THROUGH it… 

…and He covers the scars left by it.

After my recent trip to the old homestead – I am still missing Marge and Tom. The grieving doesn’t lessen, it just changes. Marge and Tom are known to me as mom and dad…and I think of them every day.  There is always some event, or something I’ve read or seen, that prompts me to get my phone and call…only remembering, a little after my automatic response, that they are not there.

When I used to visit with mom and dad, in Washington State, I ate well, enjoyed midnight conversations…and we picked up where we left off at the last visit. And Washington…ah, Washington.  When people think of Washington State, (especially those NOT from Washington, like the Hoosiers I live with now) more than likely the iconic image of tall evergreen trees, mountains, the Puget Sound and the bustle of Seattle are the first things that come to mind.

However, I grew up on the other side of the state, the east side, east of the cascade mountain range that traps clouds and separates the lush green coastal forest from the fertile high plateau that covers the rest of the state. The town where I was raised is dry, filled with sage brush and low-lying, wind-blown bluffs (or what Hoosiers call, “mountains”). So, you see, to define Washington as Seattle is silly, and inaccurate. Seattle is a small part of a state that is twice the size of Indiana.

Since I didn’t get to see Mom & Dad too often, it always took a little time to adjust to the inevitable fact that we all had aged. One time I arrived at the small airport, my dad was standing at the gate as I walked right up to him, he didn’t recognize me until I spoke. As for them, I had (and have) a certain picture in my mind as to who my parents are and what they look like.  It hasn’t changed. So, there was a period of adjustment for me, at each visit, to realize that they were the same people…and yet, more. To have only known them in their 40’s or 50’s would be somewhat the same as meeting them in their 80’s; they were more than they were in middle-age, and (as they would admit) a little less.  In the same way, even though I am their son, I didn’t really know them wholly, as I found out at their individual memorial services. I didn’t know them like their congregation knew them, or their friends, or the young couple of neighbors who came over every-once-in-a-while to fix, visit, and keep in touch.

States and people are SIMPLE concepts, compared to God.  States are finite entities compared to the infinite; they are “local” compared to “omnipresent”. So why do any of us arrogantly claim to have EXCLUSIVE knowledge of Him? 

Is the majestic Mt. Rainier the definition of Washington State, or the life of a retired mail man the definition of Tom Vale? Of course not, but those definitions are sometimes the limit of a person’s perception and knowledge. You may see the Space Needle as Washington and I see the Columbia River. We are BOTH wrong if we think those things totally define the great state. You may know my mother as a good cook, and I know her as my mom. We are BOTH right, yet neither of those things really and truly define her.

God is beyond description, and to complicate matters even more, He deals with each of us individually, specifically, and without prejudice. To the blind who came to Jesus, He is the Healer, although He healed one through touch alone and another by spitting in the dirt and putting mud in his eye. They both saw a different part of Jesus, but to divide the believers by claiming that Jesus ONLY heals through mud or ONLY heals through touch is to make God smaller than He is and to deny His greatness.

The Church is sometimes infamous for doing exactly THAT sort of discrimination: one congregation claiming that the God who does “this or that” is the only God, and any other definition, or “angle”, is heresy. If people and places are complex enough that one-hundred people might describe them one-hundred ways, then isn’t it just possible all of us only have a glimpse of what we try so desperately to define?  Sometimes we strive to “be right” about God, as opposed to our prime objective of KNOWING GOD…just so that we can rail against the “rights” of those who are not like us.  When we do that, as individuals, or congregations, we offend our Father, which is the ultimate definition of “sin”.

But the GOOD NEWS is this: When we open minds and hearts to the possibility that someone might have discovered a part of God that we have not seen, the hunger and thirst to know Him, and be known by Him, grows; we are satisfied and stretched at the same time. To narrow the personality of God is to narrow life to only the possible. To judge another according to their perception of how God works is to dismember the ONE Body of Christ.

There is one body and one Spirit – just as you were called to one hope when you were called – one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.  EPHESIANS 4:4-6

His Hebrew name was Saul, and his Greek name was Paul.  I’ve been reading his letters in the scripture for as long as I can remember.  My relationship with him is complicated.  I can’t really blame him.  Part of the frustration I have with Saul/Paul is that every letter of his is partial, and fragmented.  We have his answers to questions we don’t have a record of.  He also didn’t write his letters with the intent of writing scripture.  He spoke to specific people at specific times and places, and although the principles behind and through everything he wrote can have application to us…the times are different and so are the problems.  In the end, though, people haven’t changed all that much.

The other day I was reading about the beginning of Paul’s life and his miraculous encounter with Jesus and subsequent change of heart.  I saw something I hadn’t paid attention to before.  His work; seeking out the “People of the Way” within the synagogues, and brutally overseeing their banishment, torture, and even deaths, was all because of his radical beliefs.  He was doing it in the name of God and the Church.

On this day, as I read the story of Paul (at this point called, “Saul”) on the road to Damascus, doing the work of the Church (the heads of the Church commissioned him specifically) when he is blinded by a light, falls to the ground and hears the voice of Jesus,

“Saul, why are you persecuting ME?”

For all the times I have read this story it really never sunk in that Saul/Paul was persecuting those called Christians, according to HIS (Saul’s) reading of the scripture, the belief of HIS (Saul’s) heart AND with the full teaching and authority of the Church, which was persecuting their very reason for existence: JESUS.

So, even today, can the Church and Jesus be at odds? 

Many people in this place and time have left the organized Church.  Ask them why.  The polls clearly show that many leave because they are tired of the dogma, the judgmental attitudes, the outdated liturgy, the over-produced “Broadway-style” presentation called “worship”, OR overly symbolic, outdated, tradition that has no relevance to them.

However, many of those who have left the Church still feel as though they have become hyper-spiritually sensitive.  It’s not God they’ve left, it’s the Church, because the Church doesn’t seem to represent the God they understand speaking to them.  There is the other camp, those who say they grow weary of “Church-bashing” because after all the Church is the “Body of Christ” and you can’t have Jesus without the Church (the Groom without the Bride).

Personally, and those of you who worship with me know this, I am somewhere in the middle. My “passion” (to use an over-used term) is for the restoration of the Church.  I grieve for the “lost” also but, as Paul himself states, there is NO EXCUSE for not recognizing God where He is.  Most of the “lost” are looking for a Home, a place where they find people who love them, and accept them and their belief. Home should be the Community of Faith, where Jesus sits in the big chair.  There, people who are seeking a home find unconditional love from the community.  When they question why people love them, they are introduced to the Head of the community.  But if the Church doesn’t have it together to begin with, then “the lost” are up a creek called “you-know-what”, without a paddle.

So, once again, can the Church and Jesus be at odds?

Of course it can!  I picture tonsils (yes, tonsils).  Tonsils are placed by God at the gateway to our physical bodies to protect against the onset of viruses and germs.  Sometimes they get so overrun with poison that they not only can’t protect the body, and they turn against, and poison, the body – and then have to be removed. So it is with any group of people who organize themselves according to their like beliefs and preferences and call themselves a “church”.  They, and we, run the risk of turning from the very thing that should guard and protect the way to Restoration, and become “poison” itself.

Yes, the Church has always been built of human stones, humanity is imperfect, and the scriptures continue to tell us that the Church won’t be perfect until the Day of the Lord and the Age-to-Come. But is THAT an excuse to just let it go?  Far from it!  The world is filled with Believers & Followers doing the wrong thing because they are listening to themselves rather than to Jesus.  They follow their own logic based on a limited idea of God’s plan and behave according to what they believe the right thing is, thus creating God in their image: the big mistake of the Church leaders during the time Jesus walked in our flesh.

As soon as we individually (or the Church, corporately) rely on our own self-will, stubborn reliance on dogma, or reluctance to open our minds to the “living and active” scripture-beyond-the-page, we will fail as the Body of Jesus the King.  It is faithful, sincere, humbling, and desperate, adherence to the heartbeat, voice, and hand of Jesus that brings us to the purity that is His own community of faith.

The Church’s own Road to Damascus will happen when a congregation treats the scripture like a book of charms, treats tradition like Truth, and behaves as if Jesus was their own “metaphysical Santa Claus”.

It will happen when a congregation seeks out the “thing” THEY label as “sin” while overlooking their own transgression against God and miss the very Light of God in EVERY breathing soul.

It will happen when a community of faith believes they are the ONLY community of faith and behave accordingly.

There will be a day, and already has been for many a congregation, when the Light will blind, and the voice will say, “Church, Church, why do you persecute Me?”

Can the Church and Jesus be at odds? 

Yes.

Can the Church be restored?

Yes, and the Church will be, either by the choice of true Believers & Followers, or by a crisis. When the Church blindly puts Jesus behind the human construct of religion a crisis is sure to come.

The Good News is, we have the power to make the choice, with the Spirit (who leads us into ALL TRUTH)…and so, we can avoid being blinded… 

…ironically, by simply opening our eyes to The Light.

A Blog by Rev. Ken Rickett

“I understand.” No matter how these two words are expressed, their power is unique and empowering when shared with sincerity and compassion. “I understand.” No two words are more resented than when uttered by a knucklehead who has no inkling of the depths of one’s hurt and pain or when callously said as if to say, “let’s change the subject.”

“I understand.” Sometimes these words are said to say, “I get it.” In Geometry class, more than once I asked a second time for an explanation before I could say, “I understand.”

“I understand.” Sometimes these words are not said aloud, but they reflect the ability of an intuitive person to “just know” what is going on without having to be told. For example, a husband and wife are friends with another couple, and they get together several times a year, but one day the news comes that their married friends have separated. The wife is shocked and in disbelief, but the husband,

an intuitive person, says, “Honey, where have you been? I knew this split was coming several months ago!”

“I understand.” “Or I don’t understand!” Hard-of-hearing folks grasp a few words (but not all words) but their minds process those words in a way that they make sense and they say to themselves, “I understand” and respond after that nanosecond pause while they process what they heard. Or they tell themselves, “I don’t understand” and respond by saying “I didn’t catch that!” As a person who lives in this hard of hearing world, we often evaluate in our minds, not whether we actually heard what was said, but whether we UNDERSTOOD what was said. Only then can we respond without embarrassment.

“I understand.” When it comes to very recent history, there is no such thing as having a full understanding of all the dynamics and forces that are driving our culture, our society and our government. My great uncle, Dr. J. Winston Pearce, several years ago after his retirement as a seminary professor, wrote the history of Campbell University, located in Buies Creek, NC where he decided to live after

retirement. When he was writing the book back in the 1970s, I visited him over a weekend. He was telling me about composing that book, and he said, “In my contract with the University to write this book, I insisted that a clause be included that stated that I could not be held accountable for any interpretation or summary of the recent history of the University.” When I asked, “Why?” His response was one that I should have known since I held a degree in history, namely, “recent history is too fluid, and too many factors that are influencing the decisions of the university or its student body may not be identified for some time.” Sometimes, it is wise to recognize limits to our ability to fully understand modern dynamics!

Sometimes we yearn to declare “I understand” but we are bewildered! Case in point: the decline of membership and activity in congregations across most denominations or Christian groups. All the data and possibilities that could give us some insight is the subject for another time. It is one thing to identify various factors at play in this decline, but more importantly, the question “how do we reverse this pattern?” still begs for an answer. Understanding all the dynamics

that has driven this decline in church membership and activity does not imply that immediate solutions are viable and relevant. To understand does not always point to the means by which obstacles are overcome. But the Church of Jesus Christ is a Spiritual Body, and the Spirit moves and acts in mysterious ways.

“I understand.” Have you ever heard these words. “God’s salvation is so simple that even a child can understand it?” Is it true? A child may understand the simple acceptance of Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior as a profession of faith, but there is no way a child understands the struggles and difficulties that lie ahead.

When it comes to matters of faith, we are “overstating it” when we say, “I understand…my faith!” AH! Our God is constantly revealing Self, and in spiritual growth, we sometimes get to the point where we say, “I used to think, (this or that) but I have come to a deeper understanding!” I served four different churches as a summer Youth Director working with teenagers while I was in college and

the seminary. Some of these teens were struggling…not with school…they were struggling because some of them were coping with parental divorce, or the death of a grandparent, or the impact of a careless few seconds while driving a car, or the news of a terminal illness to some family member or another church member.

For the first time in their lives, they were asking questions about the “Goodness of God” or “How come God allows bad things to happen to someone who tries to do the right thing?” or “What happens after death?” Like many parents, the Church was “overprotective” of its youth, and at times, as a summer Youth

Director, I was told that “teens need to be taught right from wrong, but also they must enjoy life.” Being naive, I mostly agreed, which I regret. Now, I know better. Children need to sing “Jesus Loves Me” but teenagers know all too well that life’s experiences require a much, much, much, broader and deeper grasp of God’s Love. Either they get a more solid theology as teenagers (namely, the

understanding of the Person and Nature of God as revealed in Jesus Christ through the Holy Spirit) or we will experience a Church much like today’s…in which our God is too small to deal with the vast range of human experiences in their earthly life.

“I understand” When it comes to GOD, it is not so much WHAT we now understand about GOD, it is whether we understand that GOD wants us to learn much, much more about GOD’S presence and activity in this ol’ world!

I dropped into the bed, like the aging, achy man I am becoming. It was a little worse a few nights ago. Recent events made my body as heavy as my mind and heart. The tragedy was bad enough, but equally tragic were the unexpected responses from those I thought I knew well.

I closed my eyes to the anger, the confusion, in shock, and my despondency.

The many pillows, ceiling fan, and covers did their work and I was soon transported.

The first thing I heard was a sea of human voices. They were talking quietly, loudly, laughing, whispering, carrying on a million conversations. I was rooted, literally it seemed, outside in a wide-open space of hills and valleys. I sensed more than saw that it was twilight. Familiar and friendly faces were close beside me, chatting to each other and me. We were shoulder to shoulder. I stretched up and looked around as far as I could. There were rolling hills and shallow valleys with nothing but shoulder-to-shoulder humanity standing on every inch, close enough that their bodies touched. We were all standing as a casual multitude, chatting happily (or not so) with each other. I heard those who were close directing conversations to me, but I was somehow having an “out-of-body” …it was, after all, a dream.

Then, a sudden crack, a bat hitting a ball, or a bullet tearing through the field, and two things happened. First, the conversation stopped for a millisecond and then picked up with more fervor, unfamiliar, feral. Second, I had an eye-opening realization that many around me, those who had looked so familiar, suddenly did not seem familiar at all…and some…antagonistic.

As the sun continued to set, quiet and soft rain began to fall. A breeze came up, causing us all to bend as it blew across the hills to where my little valley stood. Heads moved and danced slightly, like waves on the sea. It was suddenly where I was and I bent as well, my feet firmly planted. I said, 

“What happened? Suddenly I’m not sure of my footing. I’m not sure of my surroundings or those that stand around me…it used to be familiar and good. Now I feel our differences and not our similarities…it seems like everything has shifted.” 

And then The Breeze spoke, “You are right, but there are also some of these who harbor more than differences. Some stand in complete opposition to your moral belief and condition. They are not like you, nor you like them, in important ways.” 

“So, I think I should do something.” I said to the Breeze.

“You should do what I’ve always told you to do.” 

“You’ve been speaking to me?” 

“I’ve been speaking to all, to you and to these. Those who have ears will hear.” 

“Ah, ears…hahaha…I see what you did there. Ears. Corn. Field.” 

The Breeze seemed to “look” at me with the conscious patience of a teacher, with some not-unkind patronizing, and smiled.

“This is what I say to you, and to all.
 Speak the Truth thoughtfully.
Live the Truth generously.
Embrace all, kindly.
Wait for the harvest.” 

“What about love, isn’t that what it’s all about?” I said, with just a hint of sarcasm. “I am now aware my feelings may have changed about some of these millions on millions…finding a way to love is difficult, suddenly.

“I said nothing about ‘feeling’. What do you think ‘love-by-choice’ is but acting kindly, and being thoughtful about the Truth, and generously giving that Truth (which is life and love) to all, equally?” 

“Should I turn away from them…at the least, or help remove them from the field…at the most?” 

“No.” The Breeze grew stronger. “Do you think that all of creation is simply ‘here’? Do you think that all creation is ‘static’? No, these, like every part of creation are living, growing, changing beings. What they think now is not as they have thought before. What they speak now, is not the way they spoke before. Neither will they think and speak like this in the future. 

You neither have the knowledge nor the authority to hinder any of these before The Harvest. You don’t have the knowledge to judge YOURSELF, so how could you judge THEM? A lot can happen between planting and harvest…and only The Farmer knows the field from beginning to end.” 

It was silent for a while. Only the reflected light of the moon shown on the rain and the heads of millions over the rolling hills and valleys of humanity. We didn’t seem to be bothered by the wet…it was, after all, simply a dream.

It was all quiet and blue, but I spoke to The Breeze, in the type of voice that comes out of knowing things now that I wished I didn’t know.

“I can see now what I couldn’t see before. Some of these don’t really want ME here, and some in fact HATE my very presence. They may be ‘nice’ to my face, but would be happier if I were gone. 

The Breeze came again. 

“What others think of you is none of your business.
What you think of them is ALL of your business. 

‘Nice’ is not the same as ‘Kind’. ‘Kind’ is what I ask…it comes from a deeper place and is not a mask slipped on simply to cover inner cruelty. 

When the Sun rises on the field, His light will help The Farmer see and know what to harvest…based on Truth, generosity, and kindness…which is the ‘act’ of love-by-choice.” 

“I still think that I could help. I could point out those that aren’t speaking or behaving correctly…they shouldn’t be…” 

The Breeze interrupted me. 

“You would do more harm than good.
You have neither the knowledge nor the authority.
Speak the Truth thoughtfully.
Live the Truth generously.
Embrace all, kindly…and wait for The Harvest.” 

The sun started to rise. The Breeze started to move on. The voices were like the sound of the ocean to me. The faces close were still familiar. The faces farther off were less so. But they all crowded around me as The Breeze passed through us again. I bent, and I could feel my feet becoming more “rooted” to the ground with every bend of The Breeze…as if growing roots.

The close bodies transformed into my pillows and covers once again. There were the familiar shadows of my bedroom. It was still dark. It was still night. I was still despondent. I could not fall back to sleep.

Maybe nothing had changed…maybe something had…

…after all, a lot can happen between planting and harvest. I’m not fully grown yet, and I am not simply ‘here’ or simply ‘static’. I am a living, growing, changing…and learning, being. I am responsible only for myself, but my love for The Farmer, the Sun, and The Breeze is dependent on my generosity to all those around me. My dealings with those others in the field will determine how The Farmer harvests…and what He harvests.

And so, I will speak the Truth thoughtfully.
I will live the Truth generously.
I will embrace all, kindly…and…

…I will wait for The Harvest.

MATTHEW 13:34-30

It was a good time of life 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) 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 inside me let me know that I should 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

So, one of my Birthday gifts, some years ago, was the complete set of an “old-time” television show.  Now BEFORE I tell you what the show is, you need to know that even as a small child I was watching RE-RUNS of this show and NOT the originals.  It’s PERRY MASON, the show that sparked my interest in courtroom and crime dramas and mysteries (thus feeding my longtime obsession with LAW & ORDER…any of the franchises!).

Perry was always so calm and cool, his deductive and reasoning gifts were almost supernatural, his suits were “cool”, his hair was “cool”…his Secretary (Della) was “cool” and his detective (Paul) was very “cool”.  The guilty fell apart under his gaze, Judges bowed to his wisdom, and even his longtime adversary “Hamilton Burger” (Ham Burger…really?) had to accept that Perry was a worthy opponent.

Back then, in the black and white mid-century, it seemed that raising one’s right hand and swearing on a Bible (“I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth…”) was all that was needed (aside from Perry’s glare) to turn even the most practiced liar into a truth-telling paragon.  If only that really and truly worked. 

What if, every day before any one of us left the house, we placed our hands on the family Bible and said, “Today…I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”?  We, as Believers & Followers, shouldn’t need to do that.

“Now above all, my brothers, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or with any other oath.  Your ‘yes’ must be ‘yes’, and your ‘no’ must be ‘no’, so that you won’t fall under judgment.” JAMES 5:12

Unfortunately even in (and sometimes, especially in) the Church the truth (outside of the scripture) gets used infrequently when members chat amongst themselves in and out of the sanctuary.  The Church is a community of people, and as such people will talk about people…it almost can’t be helped.  But in doing so, God has clear guidelines that sometimes get ignored.

GENEROSITY INSTEAD OF GOSSIP…JAMES, Chapter 3 has much to say about “taming the tongue”, including the difficulty of doing just that.  However, as Christians and “People of the Word”, our “words” must be right, just and true…especially when thinking and talking about others who are not present.

If you have ever played the game, “Gossip, Gossip” you know how easily the “truth” of the original language can get mangled in simple translation and communication between just a few people.  In PRAYER CHAINS alone, a person’s request for the healing of a “hang-nail” can end up being a brain tumor by the time the request is through.  And what about information that one hears outside the Church about a church member?  Should what one hears at the “Hair Salon” be taken as the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?  Everyone likes a “juicy” story…but leave the passing on of that kind of information to the “world”…here, in the Kingdom of God, we don’t do that.

Be GENEROUS with your words, and kind.  Sometimes one has to be creative to counter bad gossip (which is usually only partially true, if true at all) with a positive statement…but our JOB as Believes & Followers of Jesus is that we BUILD ONE ANOTHER UP and not TEAR DOWN…whether we are speaking directly TO or ABOUT our brothers and sisters…fellow citizens of the Kingdom.

“Speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” EPHESIANS 5:19 

“Since you are eager to have spiritual gifts, try to excel in gifts that build up the church.”  I CORINTHIANS 14:12 

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”  JOHN 13:34

It’s not just enough to keep one’s mouth shut when it comes to speaking about others…no, God demands that we SPEAK, and that we speak “love”.

EDITED LANGUAGE or “And Nothing But The Truth”…sometimes it’s difficult to edit what comes out of our mouths before it comes out, it takes practice, but once we “elaborate” we have created a false moment.  Once we take a bit of the truth (or hear it and pass it on) but “shade” and “color” it…we become no better than Satan himself, who doesn’t lie “outright” as much as he twists the truth for his convenience.

The lost in the world will not be saved if the Church is lost as well.  Church, when it comes to your fellow “family” tell the truth, the whole truth, AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH.

When you hear a story that can’t be confirmed, SHUT IT DOWN AND DON’T PASS IT ON.

When you hear negative things said about someone you know in the church (true or not), counter with positive and SHUT IT DOWN, AND DON’T PASS IT ON.

Take EVERY opportunity to believe the best in people, assume their graciousness and goodness and not their bad sides (especially when airing your thoughts out loud to someone else).  And, as always here at Central, if you have a question or an issue with someone; before you talk about it BEHIND their back, talk to their face or don’t talk at all.  Let’s make sure that people around us know we who Believe & Follow will behave differently than the rest of the world.

I’m talking to myself here, as much as anyone else, since I have often been at the other end of misinformed talkers.  But if you think this message is specifically directed at you…it may be.

For the sake of those outside of the Kingdom of God, and for the sake of the building up of His strong Kingdom…speak “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth…so help us, God.”

Our home is like a beautiful “storage room”, we have a lot of stuff.  But I can point to each item of mine and tell you the story behind it, and why I hang on to it.  I suppose that’s how hoarding starts.

There is one piece of “knick-knackery” that reminds me of a time in my life I would like to forget, but also need to celebrate.

We all have periods, I suppose, where circumstances have broken us.  I’m not going to get into that specific period in my life except to say it was years ago and during that time I received a gift from a good, older, wiser, friend from my theatre world.  Knowing that life (through my own choices, other people’s choices and some other circumstances) was handing me a platter of pain and garbage,  she asked to meet for coffee.  We met, we hugged, and she handed me a silk-wrapped gift.  I opened it and found a beautiful Asian-crafted bowl (see photo).  Not a bowl to fill things with, but a beautiful blue-glazed bowl to sit on a shelf…perhaps someday in Anderson, Indiana…to serve as a remembrance for me.

“I’m not going to tell you why I’m giving this, or why it is designed the way it is.  Part of your journey should be to search its meaning out…and it has one” she said.

“I will tell you this.  The form of this bowl is also a form of Japanese philosophy…it’s called ‘kintsugi’.” And with that, she changed the subject, sipped her chai latte, and spoke no more of it.  We chattered about other things.

I took the beautiful blue bowl with gold veins home and looked the word up.

The art (and philosophy) of “kintsugi” is to take cracked and broken pottery…even if it is pottery which had been used in a practical way (in fact, that’s even better) and instead of throwing away the pieces, they are glued back together with a lacquer mixed with powdered gold.

Why?  So that when seen or used again one would be reminded that breakage in our most vulnerable times leads to repairs that ARE not, and SHOULD not be, disguised as something ugly but signify something that is fully healed and stronger.  Kintsugi is a philosophy which has been around for over 600 years, and…

…this TRUTH in Japanese philosophy is TRUTH from God.

The Spirit reminds us that God does not cause disaster or difficulties.  And although one could argue that God may test us, even Jesus urges us to pray that His Father doesn’t test us.  Yet, difficult times come…to everyone (the BELIEVER & FOLLOWER and to the non-Believer) sometimes it’s a test, sometimes it’s just “life”.

What God DOES with those moments and seasons is “kintsugi”.

I’ve almost always referred to God as “the metaphysical Rumpelstiltskin” : He turns “straw” into “gold”, in partnership WITH us and FOR us (see ROMANS 8:28).

When I see that bowl my mind travels back to the time when both the bowl, and I, were broken.  Then I saw and touched the strength (and beauty) of the gold veining today.  I would not wish much of my own journey on anyone, but I would hope that everyone could end up where I am now.

My beautiful scars are now as much a part of me as anything and everything else, in fact they have come to define me.

The irony is not lost on me that in the Age-to-Come my new body will probably be without scars.  And the only person we meet in that New Heaven and New Earth bearing scars…

…will be Jesus.  His scars healed ours.