The older I get (and I mark one more journey around the sun this week) the more I notice (irritatingly) how many mirrors we have in our home.  In my “travels” around the condo, I am horrified to realize how many mirrors we have…in every room!

Mirrors aren’t my friend, at the best of times, and now it seems they are everywhere…lying to me.

Why do I say the mirror is “lying”?  

I look in the mirror expecting to “see” and I can’t…I now have to “lean in” to shave!  The GOOD SIDE of that is, just like a filter on a camera, some things look better, prettier, at a distance, or they are “blurred up” a bit.  YOU all look FANTASTIC!  Christmas lights are a wonder, etc.  But on the flip side, the mirror is telling me that I’m losing my eyesight to glaucoma…well, to be honest, the Eye Doctor is telling me that as well.  But no matter WHAT the mirror says, I see perfectly…I KNOW that in my mind, and always will…even when they drag me, screaming obscenities, from the BMV.

I look in the mirror, expecting to see ME and instead I see my Dad.  The GOOD SIDE of that is I think about my great Dad, I hear his voice, I remember some great times, and I miss him, and mourn him, in a healthy way…on the flip side, I know that I’m NOT as old as my Dad, nor will  I ever be.  No matter WHAT the mirror says, I AM 27 years old, and always will be.  I’m not my Dad, I’m his son.

I look in the mirror and expect to see someone I know, someone who lives inside my head…but I often see a stranger.  The mirror lies…that’s not me.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and see an awkward kid who wasn’t good at sports, only moderately doing well in school, unpopular and introverted…the mirror lies, that is no longer “me”.

Sometimes I look and see a failure…the mirror lies.

Sometimes I see a broken man…the mirror lies.

Unfortunately, what I’ve learned through a life of performing and recording is this: in this world, unedited mirrors, cameras, and recordings don’t lie, when it comes to what the world sees.  They are brutal, they are raw, they are ruthless. They are also flat and shallow reflections, looking only on the outside of a person.  They only see a shell.  They also have the ability to trigger lies that we tell ourselves, and lies that the rest of the world has told us.

What I’ve learned as a Believer & Follower is: it’s important that one uses the CORRECT mirror, held by the RIGHT person.

There is one “mirror” that matters in my life, and it’s not one of the 3.5 million that are in my condo…it is my reflection in Jesus’ eyes.  What is seen in this world, on this “physical plane”, is not who I really am…it’s not what is “real” in His eyes…the mirrors here really DO lie about who I truly am.

I am who my God says I am.

And He says:
– I’m whole, not broken
– successful, not a failure
– confident, not awkward
– not a stranger, but HIS child: known, understood, accepted, & loved.

What HE sees, matters.  He sees is my “forever self”, my “real self”, the “diamond hidden within the stone”.   However, in a way, one of the “lies” I mentioned above is actually a TRUTH:  If I choose to let let it be so, if I choose to let Him love me and lead me…

…I can be, am, and always will be, a reflection of my “Father.”

“For now we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but then face to face.
Now I know in part, but then I will know fully, as I am fully known.”
I CORINTHIANS 13:12

One lunchtime, during my college days, I was seated in my favorite corner of my favorite neighborhood café, around the corner from the school, when a friend of mine walked in.  She came over to my table, leading another girl I didn’t recognize.  My friend introduced Sali and I asked them to sit down.  Thus began a “school-year-long” friendship with Sali and our small group of friends. This was a circle of promising singers, actors, dancers, etc. and Sali was a pianist.  My kind-hearted female friend had introduced our little group to Sali because she saw Sali sitting alone those first couple weeks of September and thought she could use a friend.

Sali was quiet, but funny, humble but a piano virtuoso.  No one would describe her as a “classic” beauty, but behind her large glasses were large, dark eyes.  In her somewhat dull and baggy clothes she had a very gracious way about her.  When she wasn’t with us, we guessed she “came from money”.  As awkward, socially, as she might have been, she obviously had some good breeding…better breeding than most of us.

 The school year went through the seasons.  After each recital, or performance, we had the obligatory party and Sali was always a part of it.  We liked her, and she liked us.  She didn’t speak much, perhaps thinking her English wasn’t great…although it was.  We couldn’t tell from her accent where this dark-skinned, dark-haired, girl, was from and any question about her family or background was always met with a tactful change-of-subject.

Then there were the little “gifts”.  Each of us experienced, from her, a quiet moment when she would present us with a little token; a scarf for one of the girls, a poetry book, a flower for a teacher…always something thoughtful and unexpected.  We were, in that little circle of friends, happy to be around her although, many times, it was difficult to tell she was even there; always quiet, always in the background.

At the end of the year she was, surprisingly, leaving.  She had been there only that year, and her family was coming to take her back home, she told us.  Then she handed each of us a small invitation, hand-written on simple card-stock, an invitation to a dinner party her parents were having for her before they took her back home with them…they wanted her to invite her “school friends” and she considered us to be her ONLY friends.  She informed us that it was formal.  We must’ve looked a little shocked.  The two of us guys especially.  The girls, of course, were thrilled.  The other male and I “borrowed” school tuxes.

The address for the party was downtown at a large hotel.  We arrived and were, shockingly, ushered to a large banquet hall on one of the upper floors.  The doors opened and we walked in, looking very much like we were there for the prom….while everyone else we saw looked like they dressed this way every day.

The place was filled with well-groomed, obviously important, adults.  There was a champagne fountain, lots of food, and a string quartet.  As we stood there, an elegant woman with a thick accent, and dressed in purple velvet, smiled as she approached us.  She asked if we were the school friends she’d heard of.  We were, we said.  Then she said words I will never forget and still hear ringing in my ears as I write down this story:

“The Shahzadi is over there, she’ll be so happy to see you.”

Yup, that’s what she said: “The Shahzadi…”

With mouths open, we all turned to see where she indicated, and there was Sali, dressed in shimmering blue, her glasses gone, her hair up…and fixed with a small-but-extremely sparkly Eastern-style tiara. 

In a flash we all understood, and we were all befuddled.  Our friend, Sali, the girl who was reluctant to share about her family or background – just happened to be the “inheriting” daughter of some Sultan (we soon discovered).  We met her Dad (the Sultan) and her Mom (Mrs. Sultan), and some of her parents’ friends/dignitaries.

It seems Sali had been given a year of freedom; a year to do what she would like to do, before returning home to marry.  She decided to take one school year, studying the piano (an instrument she had played since early childhood) within the context of a “college”…something she wouldn’t have experienced otherwise.  She wanted to make some “normal” friends, (‘Couldn’t get more NORMAL than us), and she wanted to experience America.  Her aunt lived in Washington State and hosted her there.  I know, it sounds like the plot of a Disney film, but there it was.

One of our circle said it best, as we all sat in the corner table with Sali at the end of the evening – like so many nights at our café: “All this time, you were wearing a hidden crown…and we never knew.”

She was a “Princess among us”.  Yes, ours was a school of the very wealthy and the very not wealthy, of Americans and International students.  But a “Sultana”?  Really?  We were shocked AND started thinking back on our friendship over the year – wondering if any of us had committed some slight that would end up with us losing our heads.  But Sali, with tears and hugs all around thanked us for being her friends, for allowing her to experience “American” college life, and for drawing her into our little circle. Would we have treated her differently had we known? 

I started looking at everyone I knew differently after that:  “Alright, who else?  Are any of the rest of you sultans, or queens, or…?”  If Sali, this quiet, shy, funny, warm, giving, awkward, girl was a “Shahzadi” or “Sultana”…then anyone could be anything!

And isn’t that the TRUTH?  In the Kingdom we are asked to look upon everyone as if they were wearing “hidden crowns”, to treat all strangers with hospitality in case they are “angels”. (HEBREWS 13:2) We are to look at others as if they were “better” than us.  (PHILIPPIANS 2:3-4) I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that many people tend to look at others, and treat them, in just the opposite way.  Often we are taught by the WORLD to make sure WE have good self-esteem, that WE know our own self-worth, that WE are to be cared for first.

But God didn’t create the world to work that way.  He honors us when WE see the hidden crowns everyone else (the good, the bad, AND the ugly) is wearing; when we treat OTHERS (no matter who) as if THEY, and not we, were royalty deserving of respect and love.

Imagine how different these last few years would’ve been if we had seen everyone’s hidden crowns.  But let’s not look back, let’s look forward and start seeing those crowns now…that alone, quite possibly, could change the world.

A BLOG by Pastor Ken Rickett

John 5: 1-9
Some time later came one of the Jewish feast days and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. There is in Jerusalem, near the Sheep-Gate, a pool surrounded by five arches, which has the Hebrew name of Bethzatha. Under these arches a great many sick people were in the habit of lying; some of them were blind, some lame, and some had withered limbs. (They used to wait there for the “moving of water”, for at certain times an angel used to come down into the pool and disturb the water, and then the first person who stepped into the water after the disturbance would be healed of whatever he was

suffering from.) One particular had been there ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there on his back–knowing he had been like that for a long time–he said to him,
“Do you want to get well again?”

“Sir,” replied the sick man, “I just haven’t got anybody to put me into the pool when the water is all stirred up. While I am trying to get there somebody else gets down into it first.”

“Get up,” said Jesus, “pick up your bed and walk!”

At once the man recovered, picked up his bed and walked.

—J B Phillips The New Testament in Modern English

In 1982 Dennis Jones and I co-authored a 212-page history of First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), Richlands, NC, as a part of the congregation’s centennial celebration. It was not an easy undertaking. You see, 47 years of board and congregational minutes were missing! How in the world did we fill in this huge gap? Writing this book was every bit as difficult as we feared and yet far easier than we could have ever hoped. Difficult because we struggled at first to get written, documented data. Difficult because only a few older members were still living who were active in the church in the early years of the missing minutes. Difficult because a few families

had left the congregation in the late 1960s and formed an independent congregation; thus, a loving, generous spirit in telling that story was absolutely essential. And easy because we discovered that a resource or two turned out to be a gold mine of considerable information.

How DID we fill this gap? First of all, Charles Crossfield Ware (1886-1974) was General Secretary (now called Regional Minister) of the North Carolina congregations in the Christian Church (D.O.C.) from 1915-1952. A historian and prolific writer and gatherer of data from congregations, Ware wrote books about Disciples  congregations and articles (such as editing the NC Christian, a monthly newsletter, very similar to the Indiana Christian), filing letters and notes of historical interest, etc., proved to be invaluable. Ware had included in the newsletter such items as dates of baptism and the names of those baptized, significant events in the life of various congregations including Richlands congregation, the installation and resignations/retirements of ministers across the Region, and ordinations of new ministers, some of whom were from the Richlands church. After Charles C. Ware retired in 1952, he spent the next two decades building up a Discipliana collection of NC congregations that is now housed at Barton College at Wilson, NC.

Secondly, members within the church (or their parents) had saved newspaper articles about church events with the dates written on them, or they had an old bulletin or two, or they had old pictures of a Sunday School class or a CWF or CMF meeting or event. Since the church building had been built several decades earlier, older pictures showed some of the decor of the fellowship hall or sanctuary or classrooms. In short, the missing 47 years were filled by resources from people! AND filled with an incredible number of stories about the mission and activities of the church during those years of missing minutes. From Charles Ware to the Regional Minister Charles Dietze who was serving at the time of the writing of this book, the present and former members, even some of the townspeople shared their stories, and their emotions, and their joy.

How are the missing gaps filled in our lives? Every one of us has surely “missed out” on something! Having lost my parents when I was young, I was reared by maternal grandparents and deeply loved, filling the gap. The wider families of my mother and father filled the gap. And when I was grown, they were able to “let me go” and fulfill my own dreams and hopes through college, seminary, career, and certainly my own family. The people in my home church filled the gap. They recognized my gifts and abilities. They offered tons of encouragement. They gave me some leadership roles such as a committee membership and teaching a Sunday School class. Thus people filled the gap! They always do. And I benefited from their ministry of care and nurture. And I was encouraged to minister by helping others to fill in the gaps!

The Gospel is Good News because the power of God fills missing gaps! A man waited for 38 years beside the pool of Bethsaida to be healed of his crippled legs. It was said that the first person in the pool after it bubbled up (which was occasional) would be healed; but because the crippled man could not move quickly, someone else beat him into the pool. He persisted in hope. Then one day Jesus came and that which was missing was restored. Jesus ministered to the man with a deep need.

In a real sense the ministry of Jesus was spent “filling the missing gaps” in the lives of people. From the days in which Jesus called the twelve to “follow me,” Jesus seemed to be driven to fill in the missing gaps in people’s lives, and for his three year ministry, the 12 disciples were trained for the mission of filling “missing gaps.” Such, however, was a mission that would not be grasped until after the resurrection and ascension of Jesus. And then, wow, did the disciples preach, teach, heal, and guide as they filled the missing gaps!

In the Book of Acts, telling of the beginning and early years of the Church, Phillip meets an Ethiopian eunuch who has not heard the story of God’s salvation in Jesus Christ, crucified and resurrected and present through the Holy Spirit. There was a missing gap here and Phillip told the story. In fact, in many places in scripture, this story of Jesus was told and people became followers because there was a missing gap in their lives. Crowds followed Jesus because they sensed that Jesus could fill an emptiness, a gap in life. This “gap” can be best described as having “a yearning for the Holy and Merciful God.” In his condemnation of the religious elites of his day, Jesus was saying to them, “You say you know God and His way, but you are missing something. . .you are missing the deepest part of God. . .and that deepest part is God’s mercy and love.” 

Run that thinking out. Christianity grows because people have chosen to follow Jesus, and in so doing, they fill the missing gaps in their lives with the presence of the Living Christ as revealed through the Holy Spirit. AND we minister to each other as Christians in an effort to fill missing gaps—gaps not due to unbelief, but gaps due to the pain and anguish and imperfections of life. . . or gaps that yearn to be filled with more teachings that enable us to see the magnificence and majesty of a faithful life.. . or gaps the need to be filled with the sheer, raw joy of “being there” for a person in pain, whether it be emotional or physical pain.

Of course, the 47 years of history at that church in which I co-authored its history was NOT missing. It was there. Dennis Jones and I realized that there were thousands of other stories that we did not hear about or read about- – -stories of how the faithful people of that congregation filled the gaps of each other and the community and world. You see, missing minutes of board meetings is not the same as the mission of the congregation—which was never missing. If the truth be told, we live our lives with a sense of “something missing.” And it is amazing how our faith and our oneness as a people of God continually fill the missing gaps as we seek, learn, fellowship and worship together. And yes, we live our lives unaware that something may be missing, and this is when a brother or sister shares something with us in love. As a minister for 43 years, there were a few situations and circumstances in which I was unaware of something missing, but no one dared to share it with me. (Most of the time, I heard my mistakes shouted from the rooftops). Boy, do I ever wish that people would have told me, “Ken, so-and-so took what you said/did or didn’t say/didn’t do in a wrong way” OR “I don’t think the Bible Study class got your intended point” or “I don’t think the board grasped the significance of what you were explaining.” Jesus did not talk about “wholeness” aimlessly; but rather Jesus lifted up “wholeness” as a spiritual blessing that comes to those whose “missing gaps” are filled. Ministry is “filling the gaps.”

Maybe the Church of the 21st Century can best understand its calling, its role, its ministry as “filling in the gaps.” Sounds like an empowering image to me!

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.

So, I grew up in church.  We went to Highland Church of God in Kennewick, Washington – every time the door was open.  Dad sang in , and directed the choir. Mom was the Church Secretary and  sometimes the Chair of the Women’s Missionary Society.  We had worship on Sunday Mornings, Sunday Evenings, and Wednesday evenings (followed by choir practice).  It was, as they say, “formative in my construct”. 

Yes, I enjoyed the Bible Study, the good preaching, and the incredible (what we say in “Christianese”) “fellowship”.   But at the top of my list of “things I love about church and worship” and what kept me going even when I didn’t want to, was…music.  I loved the music, and I grew up in a VERY musical church.  We sang, at least 500 hymns each Sunday (so it seemed), each Sunday night, and each Wednesday evening.  The personnel of our choir, our Junior Choir, our Youth Band, and instrumentalists made up almost 60% of the entire congregation.

Music was, for me at least, the language of God.

However, as a young child, I sometimes found the “theology-filled” lyrical phrases nonsensical – in my small mind – and so I would adapt them to what I thought they said, – and what would fit with my personal rudimentary theology.

Case in point: “With our jellied toast proclaim, Christ is born in Bethlehem!”

You know that familiar phrase from “HARK! THE HERALD ANGELS (“Harold’s Angels” as opposed to “Michael’s Angels”, I suppose) SING!”  Now, ask anyone who knows me well and they will say that one of my favorite, and almost daily, foods (other than God’s most perfect creation: bacon) is toast.  I’ve loved toast since before I could speak.  I can’t imagine a more perfect food for angels than toast with jelly!  And when would they be most likely to celebrate with toast and jelly?  CHRISTMAS!  It all made sense to me.

Another case in point: “Bringing in the cheese”.

It was YEARS before I knew what a “sheave” was (even though I lived in farming country), and still wasn’t sure what that had to do with the song.  But “cheese”?! Well, yeah!  It’s another favorite food…and I find it TOTALLY understandable why someone would “come rejoicing, bringing in the cheese”…who wouldn’t?!

The mistaken lyric that made my mother laugh so hard she choked on her coffee, however, was “Up from the gravy, a rose” which I recall fondly each Easter.  Now think about this doctrinal picture: out of a gooey mess, something beautiful.  That’s what Easter is all about isn’t it?  Never mind WHY there would be a rose in a bowl of gravy, just go with it.  So, that’s what I thought I heard, and definitely what I sang.  And in my six-year-old theology it made perfect sense… 

 …until I knew better.

Aside from the obvious “food allusions” in each of these mistaken lyrics (my counselor is helping me through that obvious Freudian debacle) there is a lesson here about God growing as we grow.

People, and sometimes especially those who identify as “Christians”, don’t ever want to admit that sometimes they learned and believed something that was wrong.  They, and we, find it difficult to admit to ourselves and others, that we have learned something new, grown, and our minds have changed.  There are simply too many folks who stop learning and cling to what they first understood…even when it doesn’t make sense with everything else God says.

Were those hymn lyrics EVER “with our jellied toast proclaim”?  No, they never were – the lyrics never changed.  Did I, as a small child, misunderstand the “intent” of the lyric?  No, I understood completely that the angels were happy and proclaiming the birth of Jesus…but as I grew, my understanding grew, and in my eyes and mind the lyrics grew as well.

God, our Father, started with a group of slaves from Egypt who knew, vaguely, of Yahweh – but not in a mature way.  He proposed a covenant with them (“I will be your God.  You will be My people), containing ten precepts.  They are simple, they are rudimentary, and they are the type of rules one would give a small child.  (Example: “Don’t cross the busy street without holding my hand.”) But as generations grew, failed, grew, failed, and grew again – up to this very generation – the understanding of God/Yahweh and ourselves has become more precise, more detailed, deeper, and more subtle.  As the Apostle Paul would say, “we are going from MILK to MEAT”.  Did God change?  Does God change? No.  But WE did. And we will.

When an individual makes the choice to BELIEVE that God indeed exists, that Jesus is His Son, and that He is present to love, protect, and preserve (“sozo” = “preserve/restore”, sometimes translated at “save”) us….and then chooses to FOLLOW that Good Shepherd and King, relinquishing all personal rights in allegiance to Him…then that person starts to grow (hopefully).  As that person grows, they will begin to see God differently, more fully.  They will, inevitably, discover their preconceived ideas of who HE is and who THEY are may be wrong.

And now they have another choice: Do I let my PRIDE rule, or do I let my KING rule?

Unfortunately, too many denominations, theologies, and people have let their pride rule – using the excuse: “God doesn’t change.”  And they are correct, HE doesn’t, but WE do.  His words are constant, though He will sometimes speak to us as a child, and sometimes not try to explain things that are beyond our understanding. Other times He will bring us close and reveal His quietest thoughts…and THOSE conversations are different than the conversations with a child…because of OUR understanding, not HIS. 

I have realized that I need to learn something new every day, to grow my mind and to temper my ego.  When those lessons come into conflict with what I BELIEVED was true, then I should change, and I should admit that my understanding THEN was faulty.

Maya Anjelou’s words echo the scripture, because ALL truth comes from God, and HE chooses who will speak it…and THIS is truth: “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

“Up from the gravy, a rose.” might be a very picturesque way of describing the core of Easter Life Lessons – but it is inaccurate, next to the actual lyric.  Once I discovered that, leaving my misinterpreted lyric behind was bittersweet.  But as a child of the King, I have a responsibility to “do better” when I “know better” – and I also have the responsibility to carry the flashlight of all Truth (“alethea”) in all places, at all times.

My personal prayer is: To always admit when I have learned better, and to apologize if I have stated or taught something contrary to the more accurate Truth.

We are not the Hebrew slaves of thousands of years ago, just being introduced to Yahweh.  We have the benefit of years, scripture, and the Holy Spirit.  Let’s not “stay in the grave” but continue to move forward, to learn, to change, and to humbly grow along the journey from lowland to highland, as we follow the Good Shepherd.

When I was a child, I spoke like a child,
I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child.
When I became a man, I put aside childish things.
For now we see indistinctly, as in a mirror,
but then face to face.
Now I know in part, but then I will know fully,
as I am fully known.

PAUL, to the Church in Corinth – and to us.
I CORINTHIANS 13:11-12

I am missing Marge and Tom in different ways and at different times, each passing year. 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

A BLOG by Pastor Ken Rickett

“Behold I make all things new. . . “ 

I find myself intrigued, awed, and appreciative of Rick’s series on a “Hokey Pokey Lent”: so simple, yet so profound! Rick has utilized an imaginative but apt application to Christian life and thought. And after all these 40 plus years as a minister, it never once occurred to me that there were Lenten truths hidden in an old song and dance which several folks enjoyed at wedding receptions that I attended!

During the sermon on “Shake It All About” (March 27th), one became immediately aware that moving deeper into discipleship and following Jesus Christ requires an almost constant “shaking it out, shaking it off, and shaking it up.” And what is “it” that we shake out, shake off, shake up? “It” is our topsy-curvy world, the subtle and not so subtle “oughts” of church life, our changing society, our pundits (who can be both wise and not-so-wise), shifting trends and fads, etc. which so easily control our thoughts and actions every second of every day. Indeed, there is a need to shake it out, shake it off, and shake it up in order to keep trudging toward discipleship under the Lordship of Christ. I couldn’t help but think of the times I have had to “shake it out, shake it off, and shake it up.”

Among my earliest experiences of having this kind of traumatic “shaking” was the day I started school. My community had no kindergarten, so I started the first grade as my first “school” experience. No wonder Moms and grandmas get teary-eyed, and kids cling, scream, and sometimes pitch tantrums. A BIG shaking is taking place. For me, gone were my favorite toys, the comforts of home in the daytime or (for some, daycare routines), the afternoon snack made by Granny, and the myriad of options for both morning and afternoon playtime (ie, backyard swings, playing with the dog, climbing trees, etc.) For my grandmother who reared me, gone were the days of having to keep a watchful eye on me during school days!

Entering school calls for a new kind of discipline, a new kind of awareness, a new role. In order to BECOME a student, this little ol’ first grader (me) on the first days of school has a lot of shaking to do: shaking out old routines, shaking off fears, and separation from family, and shaking up my way of thinking about life over the next 12 or more years. Instead of knowing how a child’s day is going, Moms and Dads have to ASK, “how was your day?” For my grandmother, it was a time of seeing the teacher as an “alma mater”, the other mother. A shake-up indeed!

I graduated from college and went immediately that fall into the seminary. Technically, nothing new. I was still a student, and I was still preparing for a career. With a year to a year and a half left to finish the seminary, Della and I married on a cool but sunny November day, soon to be 50 years ago! What a huge shake-up! Not that there were “problems” but there had to be a profound change in how I saw myself and in how Della saw herself. We both were becoming something new. We were leaving behind the life of a single person and becoming a couple who had to learn to consider each other’s personality, needs, and hopes. O, so easy to become one—except when it wasn’t so easy!

All throughout marriage, we have had to shake it out, shake it off, and shake it up; and that “shaking” does not mean lots of anger and turmoil. Of course, at times, those emotions surface. But we had to–and still do–shake it out by sharing our different perceptions, shake it off by letting some things go for the sake of both of us, and shake it up by trying new behaviors and new habits (sometimes with success cause preacher’s families are the only dysfunctional units around).

To be truthful, in regard to any marriage, growing together as a couple as well as maturing as a couple is a product of “shaking it all about.” Even amid the “settlement and sameness” of a long marriage, the new is always emerging. Grandchildren come along. Sometimes great grandchildren. Sometimes downsizing happens. And always, there comes those times when one loses family members and friends by death or by moving out of town. Medical issues arise, often requiring great adjustments. Finances can shift without warning. The most stable of marriages is never constant but always being shaken all about. The “new” constantly emerges.

When I graduated from the seminary, and took my first pastorate, WOW! What a learning curve! I had moved quickly and suddenly from a student into a new being–that of a career or professional person who answered a call to serve. It was, in a way, being a pastor was a mantle that I was pleased to wear and yet, a mantle that I wore with “fear and trembling.” Talk about being “shaken all about”, that describes my experience as a minister. With skin “as tough as an elephant’s hide”, I had to learn to shake out a lot of my feelings when I heard something as criticism, to shake off the human-ness of people whose words and actions were. . .well, just being people with all the frailties and limitations of human life, and to shake up my self-image when I learned something new about myself from others. Leadership entails “shaking all about” as pastor and congregation shake out new proposals (with both support and concerns), shake off “we’ve never done it this way before”, and shake up visions of ministry and life together as a people of God.

Nothing moves a congregation forward like being “all shaken up” and nothing hinders a congregation like being “all shaken up.” After serving six Disciples of Christ congregations in 40 years, I have gotten used to shaking it all about, never knowing what new thing is coming through the next open door or through the next person I may see. And for any of us, in any career, trade, or job, being “shaken all about” is characteristic of any work experience. When I hear folks at work say, “I’ve been around the block a few times” they are saying, “I have had to shake out, shake off, and shake up more times than I can count.”

Amid the sameness of everyday work, the new is just across the next aisle or with the incoming employee, or the exiting long-term staff, or new policies, or a merger. . . the experience that truly left me all shaken up was retirement. As I reflect on my career, many things that happened were people just being people and family being family. When one’s life has been connected with the church as my life has been, congregations will ebb and flow as they are shaken all about. That’s normal. But I must confess, there are a couple of things that happened in which I would give anything if I could just go back and take a different approach or say something that conveyed the same basic message but worded very differently. Why do I say this? Because there are few other careers than a minister in which the expectations are so varied and the risks of being misunderstood are so high. BUT, by far, the warmth of relationships that I still share with people across all congregations I have served, the many memories of special events and community involvement in each congregation and town in which I have lived, and the joy of seeing faith in Jesus Christ accepted and multiplied are often dancing through my mind. But upon retirement, I had to “shake it about.” I had to shake out my goals for retirement years, shake off the roles (pastoral, etc.) that I once held, and shake up my daily routines! I had to shake out my vision of being a church member rather than a minister, I had to shake off a few health limitations and accept what is, and I had to shake up my world of being “on call” 24/7 and learn to sleep late!

It was in retirement that the “new” came rushing in like a mighty flood. After living a lifetime in parsonages, there was the purchase of my own home, and there was the learning of a new community and a new church at Central. WHEW! Granted, most people will not move to a new community nor buy a new home in retirement. Most people will not have to make new friends in strange places after retirement. Most people will not have to change medical personnel or familiarize themselves with new grocery and drug stores. And yet, for those people, the “new” still comes rushing like a mighty wind–and the streets of town won’t be quite like they used to be, and the hills and fields we once ran and played will not hold the same fascination for us, and the words “I used to…” will be said with the smile of a marvelous memory and not the regret of change. In retirement, the “new” does not always come with loss and regret, but with the joy of seeing a glimpse of the future as we watch the grandchildren play and see the flow of life moving ahead in spite of the changes. Retirement leaves us “shaking it all about!” And with the deepening awareness that “time is short” yet we all delight in the emerging newness of life that will continue as long as time shall last..

Didn’t God say, “Behold, I make all things new.” That should not surprise nor amaze us. Why? Because all our lives we have been “shaking it all about” because that is how the “new” has emerged in our daily lives. God created life with the expectation that a person can grow and mature–not just once in a lifetime, but throughout one’s entire lifetime. And when the golden bells ring and the trumpets blare as we take our place among God’s faithful for all eternity, in a twinkling of an eye, we shall all be made new…into an eternal body. And a God who makes all things new will not allow eternity to become a complacent place. . .but rather, God will continually be leading us into the most profound riches of God’s own Being and Presence.

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 they turn against and poison the body, and thus have to be removed.  And so it can be 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 the 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”, forgetting that He and He alone is the WORD OF GOD.  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 by the “Groom”?

Yes, and She will be, either by the choice of true Believers & Followers, or by a crisis. And when the Church blindly puts Jesus behind their own human construct (their religion) a crisis will surely come.  The Good News is, we have the power to make the choice, with the help of the Spirit who leads us into ALL Truth…and, we can avoid being blinded, by simply opening our eyes to the Light.

I was a small boy who could barely read when my mother began instilling in my little brain the idea of memorizing things: phone numbers, addresses, scripture, poems.  She was an advocate of memorizing long passages of prose; speeches and monologues, a passion she got from her mother, the teacher.

Also, my grandmother (who passed before I was born) was, as someone who lived through the wars, convinced the scripture would someday be taken out of the hands of the faithful and should be memorized as much as possible.  She herself could recite at least 4 books of the Bible, in scorching King James English (so mom said.) 

As was often the case, being the child of the “Church script writer”, I was “cast” as the child with the longest (and I’m sure, the most dramatic) monologues and Bible verses to recite.  I was at my hometown church one day when mom and dad were there doing something else, and I decided to go to the sanctuary and see how scary it was to stand up on the platform and deliver to the rows of empty, blonde wood, pews.  I started the walk up to the front from the back when someone popped their head up from below one of the pews.  It was Mr. R., the father of some of my friends at church, he was fixing something in one of the pews…he smiled and said “Hi”.  He then asked what I was doing and I told him I was going to practice my “monologue”.  He then asked me a question that confused me because I had NEVER heard the term before. 

“Do you know it by heart?” 

It’s funny how some things stick with you.  I couldn’t have been more than 6 or 7 years old and yet, I can see the pews, see his 40-year-old face, hear his voice and see the surprise on his face when learning I had never heard that term before.  He explained that having something memorized was often referred to as, “knowing it by heart.” That could refer to things like what I was learning and delivering…but also to things, truths, that need to be “kept in our heart.” 

“Do you know that your mom and dad love you?”

“Yes.”

“THAT is something you know by heart.”

“Do you know that we all love you?”

“Yes.”

“Keep that in your heart.”

“Do you know that God loves you?”

“Yes.”

“Then, there are the most important things you can know…by heart.” 

Again, if an angel had broken through the walls, stood beside Mr. R. with a flaming sword held high I couldn’t have been more impressed (for more than 50 years or so) with that moment in time…it has stayed with me.

The term comes from the Greeks, who had no separation, in their culture and philosophy, between logic and emotion, considering the organ of the heart to be the seat of knowledge.  To “know something by heart” was to remember in the deepest part of you and COMMIT to remember it.

I recently concluded a performance of a Shakespeare script.  I didn’t have a large role, but it was significant: as a storyteller.  The words and phrases, even in this comic play, were sometimes stunningly beautiful and crafted as only a brilliant writer can do it: using language as a painter uses brushes and oil, and as a sculptor uses chisels, hammers, and polishing cloths.  Although these words are difficult for a 63-year-old mind to remember…I was, and am, DRIVEN to remember them because they contain “truth”…and I want to commit them “to heart.”

What do YOU commit to heart?  

Jesus is constantly reminding us that there are some things we have “memorized by heart” that perhaps we should forget: worry, or past indiscretions He has forgiven, and the times someone else hurt us, as some examples.

We may not WANT to commit those things to our hearts, but we do, and we memorize every hurt and say it, play it, over and over again.  Jesus reminds us that the things we keep in our hearts tell everyone (including Himself) what we truly “treasure”.  (MATTHEW 6:21) 

YET, as humans we are prone to forget the GOOD things, the beautiful things, the true things…and the writer, Paul, reminds us to actually to commit those things to heart (PHILIPPIANS 4:8).  God asks that we remember what He has done for us, so our faith can be strengthened by those things.  Psychologists teach that training the mind to remember good events, strong events, actually will change the way our mind works .People who know by heart all the bad things in their lives, and “play them” over and over again (as a recording) will change…you and I have seen it happen, and we experience those kind of people every day.  But those who remember when God delivered, when God loved, when God provided, also have change in their minds…you and I see a few of them every day as well.

What do YOU commit to heart?

Choose carefully what you learn, what you memorize, and what you know by heart.  It will change you…change isn’t bad, change is life.  But HOW you change is up to you.

“Go to your bosom; knock there and ask your heart what it doth know.” SHAKESPEARE

“Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may discern what is the good, pleasing, and perfect will of God.”  ROMANS 12:2

MATTHEW18: 22- 35 (about forgiveness)
Jesus said, “I say not unto thee, until seven times; but until seventy times seven, therefore, the kingdom of heaven is likened unto a certain king who would take account of his servants. And when he had begun to reckon, one servant was brought to him who owed him 10,000 talents. But he could not pay, and his lord recommended him to be sold, and his wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made.
The servant therefore fell down and worshiped him, saying, ‘Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay you all.’ Then the Lord of that servant was moved with compassion, and released him, and forgave the debt.
But that same servant went out, and found one of his fellow servants, which owed him a hundred pence, and he laid hands on him, and took him by the throat, saying, ‘pay me what you owe me.’
And his fellow servant fell down at his feet, and begged him, saying, ‘have patience with me, and I will pay you all.’ And he would not; but went and cast him into prison until the debt was paid. So when his fellow servants saw what was done, they were very sorry and told their lord all that was done.
Then his lord, after that he had called him, said unto him, ‘O, you wicked servant, I forgave you all that debt, because you desired me (to do so), Shouldn’t you also have had compassion on your fellow servant, even as I had pity on you?’
And his lord was wroth (angry), and delivered him to the tormentors until he should pay all that was due unto him. So likewise, shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if you from your hearts forgive not every one of his brothers their trespasses.

It is the time of the year for separating out a huge pile (or stacks upon stacks?) of receipts and filing taxes by using accounting practices that match the requirements of both federal and state laws. Then all the forms must be filled out, or, if you are like me, a CPA really saves a few headaches and worries.

Financial accounting practices are called upon, not only at tax time, but in budgeting and spending income so that both groceries and the mortgage gets paid, not to mention insurances and medical bills. Such accounting is a huge part of life. To be sure, sometimes the IRS forgives a huge debt to those who have fallen upon hard times. To forgive a debt is to erase it as if it never existed.

The New Testament has several parables and stories about financial accounting practices. In one story, a king forgives a man of a debt that he could never repay “if he lived to be 100 years old.” This same man, forgiven of such a great debt, throws another man in jail who only owed a debt easily payable if given enough time. Upon hearing of this travesty, the king ordered the man whom he had forgiven to prison. Yes, this is a financial story, but it is far more: it is a story about good accounting practices. In other words, those who have been forgiven of a great financial debt should be gracious to those who can’t pay a piddling debt on time. Truth be told; the implication of this biblical story goes far beyond the financial transactions or lack thereof; it reaches deep into the human heart with a message about forgiveness that cannot be ignored, namely, each one of us has received a gracious forgiveness that stands in sharp contrast to our stinginess in overlooking the faults of another person.

Good accounting practices go far beyond mere finances. A judge may grant leniency toward a person who has the fortunate letters of recommendation that describe compassionate and generous behavior in the defendant’s past. A judge hears the particulars of the misdemeanor or crime in court, with such commendatory letters from

reputable people a judge can see an accounting of a person’s motivations and influence within a community.

Good accounting practices go far beyond mere finances. The difference between factual data and hearsay/assumptions is based on giving a full accounting of all pertinent information. As a member of a genealogical society, I needed to prove that one of my ancestors lived in that county between 1792 (the county’s establishment) and the 31^st of December, 1800. My ancestor, William Kyle, moved there in 1792 and was named a juror and an overseer of building a road in that county by 1795. I descend from his son Charles Kyle who also had several records in that county. But I had to prove that Charles was the son of William. I could NOT use DNA tests, family genealogy charts, a biographical sketch, etc. I had to have a legal or an acceptable document that actually stated or gave evidence “beyond reasonable doubt” that Charles was the son of William. I had no Bible record, nor a deed in which the son purchased land from the father or the son inherited land from the father, I had no will of William Kyle that mentioned any of his children. That genealogical society certainly demanded good accounting practices. 

What was I to do? I found online the history of Tabernacle Methodist Church established in 1837; the church was located near the old Kyle property. So I read it. Lo and behold, it stated that Charles Kyle had donated three acres of land for the church at the cost of a dollar. It named Charles as one of the nine sons (no daughters) of William Kyle, so I sent that page. I was surprised to find that my application proving that I descended from a first family (William Kyle) was accepted, so I emailed the society, asking them what document made the difference. I was told that I had this church record on the very bottom of all my documentation, and they were about to reject it, when this church history record was finally viewed. Church records are considered primary records! It turns out that several descendants of the Kyles were members of the church and they used data that had been passed down to them. Facts have to be established by good accounting.

Good accounting practices go far beyond mere finances. Rarely in our lifetimes have we witnessed the challenge to factual data because of information and misinformation about covid, vaccinations, prior elections, etc.

What is fact? What is assumed or alleged? Or whether it be local gossip, court trials, family lore, or mind-boggling mysteries, there is always a desire and a need for good accounting practices to establish truth. As for our own day and age, at some point in the future, good accounting practices will allow us to sort out, decipher and interpret what we hear and read so that truth may become the center of life in our community, nation, and world. 

Good accounting practices go far beyond mere finances. In fact, the Bible speaks of each person making a final accounting before God of our life on earth. AH! If the truth be told, none of us could “pass muster” and none of us shall be called “good.”

But a Righteous and Holy God has placed in the hands of the Son, Jesus Christ, the power to be gracious and merciful to those who proclaim faith in Him, the Son of God. Thus, in Him and through Him, we will be forgiven of a debt that we can never repay.

Back to the story of a king who forgave a great debt, but the one forgiven could not forgive a minor debt. What is the real message here? Is it saying something about the nature of forgiveness? Certainly. But perhaps the real point of this parable is this:
In Christ, we have received a GIFT.
Does that GIFT obligate us to Jesus? Certainly.
But more so, that GIFT obligates us to our neighbors. 

But more than anything, that GIFT obligates us to the people to whom we have the power to make their lives miserable or blessed. It takes good accounting practices to handle this power! No matter what role a person finds himself or herself (parent, profession, family life, etc.), there is this power to make life miserable or blessed. Such power belongs to all of us, and each of us probably hold some deep regrets about those times we have made life miserable for someone, whether intentionally or inadvertently, even if it was only a short period of time. It is difficult to keep in mind the times that we have benefited from the graciousness of others and “pay it forward.” You see, good accounting practices demand that, upon reading this parable, that we discover that we think of the ways that we identify with the man who didn’t erase a small debt of a fellow servant. To ignore the power of that man to make life miserable or blessed for his fellow servant is to ignore the power that we ourselves hold.

It is easy to demand financial accountability; not so easy to demand accountability of our powers to make life miserable or blessed.