In 2013 my parents passed away within months of each other.  Being an only child (which was wonderful, by the way) I had the task of going through things when my mom passed, and I moved my Dad back here with me to Indiana for the few months prior to his passing.

I had the singular joy (sarcasm emoji here) of going through photos, documents, memories, and deciding what to take with me and what to sell in the “Estate Sale” (a pretentious word for items contained in a rented range house).  Most things were items I had grown up with, things that brought back some good memories, things I had forgotten about, things I hadn’t realized my folks had saved, things that carried good and true memories of the wonderful life I had with my parents.

When I finally got to Mom & Dad’s personal things; wallets, stuff they kept in the top drawer of their bedroom dresser, etc. I discovered things I didn’t know about.  There were the wedding rings and wallet photos, etc. but there were other surprising things.

In context: both of my parents worked for the U.S. Government, in a town that was owned and run by the government until 1960 when it became the independent town of Richland, Washington.  Dad was an Army MP at Camp Hanford, the guardians of “Area 300” which held the secret “Button Factory” (that’s what the public was told) which made plutonium buttons for “the bomb”.  My mother, after graduating from business school, was hired as a secretary for the government-sub-contracted, General Electric Company, and then the Atomic Energy Commission (eventually re-named the D.O.E.).  I tell you all of this because I knew they began their lives together working for secret things, in a secret town.

So, I wasn’t surprised to find my dad’s army dog tags among the personal items, but I was surprised to find that Mom had dog tags also…issued to her, not because she was married to Dad, but because she worked for the government, sometimes in secret, to ensure the safety of the U.S. during the cold war.

Dog tags’ purpose is to identify the “wearer” when they become a casualty of war.  To wear a dog tag means that you have committed to “give over your life” and you wear that commitment around your neck.

Also, in my mom’s wallet, was the ragged card she had carried around since 1950.  It is the government-issue directive to any agents of the government, post-war and during the cold war.  It is printed bullet point directions for surviving an atomic attack, an artillery attack, and a chemical attack.  One was to carry it with them all the time…just in case.  In each scenario the last bullet point said, “Continue with your mission.”

I recently ran across these dog tags again.  I thought about the commitment my mom & dad made – which they really never spoke about to me – to live out to the point of death for service to their country.  Would I be willing to do the same, to “put on the dog tags” making a commitment to not only live, but die, for something?

And yet…

That is exactly how Jesus describes the type of LIFE and LOVE offered to us, and expected from us, when we agree to live in the Kingdom. 

“No one has greater love (agape) than this, that someone would lay down (tithemi) his life (psyche) for his friends.” John 15:13

This too-familiar verse speaks exactly to this concept.  I say “too familiar” because we sometimes misinterpret, or assume, its meaning from having heard it so often.   AGAPE is the “love that is given despite feeling”.  It is, in effect, “love by choice” to those who cannot or will not love back.  TITHEMI is translated to “lay down”, but also means “to present” or “to commit”.  But the key word here is PSYCHE, which is simply translated to the English, “life”.  This isn’t the “full life in Jesus”. That word is ZOE.  It isn’t our “physical” life/body, that word is BIOS.  No, this word could be translated as “life force/mind/heart/soul”; OR everything that a person truly is.

In other words, the verse may be more accurately translated to: “No one chooses a greater love toward others than this, that they live out their entire lives, even to the point of pouring it out completely in death, for their friends, neighbors, circles of influence.”

It’s about choosing to “put on the dog tags”; committing to not ONLY die physically, but to SERVE while living.  To “put on the dog tags” is to say good-bye to one’s physical life even before death.  It is a commitment to serve the “country” of THE KINGDOM OF GOD.

There is no half-way.  To BELIEVE Jesus is the Son of God, who died, rose, and is coming back…but not FOLLOW Him, is not much of a commitment.  To FOLLOW Him, ignorant of the price, or unwilling to “put on the dog tags” is something that Jesus Himself teaches against many times – “count the cost” He says again and again.  And so we must BOTH BELIEVE AND FOLLOW if we are to have any life at all.

Mom & Dad’s dog tags contain their identities, their birthdates…and their “religion” (so they could be buried appropriately, when their bodies were found…after they “completed their missions”). 

MY prayer is that my “friends” will know…without having to SEE my dog tags…that I am committed to “live out my very life-force, to the point of physical death” for them.  If I must advertise it, I’m not doing it very well.

What about you?  Are you willing to put on the dog tags?

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.

If I attended a wedding and, sitting in the pew listening to the minister, heard and watched him turn to the couple and say, “The most important thing is communication, through the good and the bad, communication with your spouse is the most important thing.”

I would say a silent “Amen”.

But if I then heard and saw the minister continue by handing them a book and saying, “Here is a biography of your spouse.  Whenever you wish to find out what they’re thinking or how they are going to react, simply read this and you’ll know.  Everything you need to know about your spouse is right here.” I would…along with most everyone in the ceremony, wonder at the mental health of said minister.  And perhaps THEN someone wouldn’t be so silent.  Someone (probably NOT me) might stand and say, “Why don’t they just talk to each other…isn’t THAT a better way to get to know someone; a better way to communicate?”  Then, of course, there would be a general hubbub and the wedding would end in shambles with at least one member of the wedding party, along with the minister, crying and running off. 

But seriously, how ridiculous would it be if anyone told me or you that the best way to get to know someone we love, or communicate with someone, is to read about them?  Especially when they are there and can be DIRECTLY communicated with.  And yet, many Believers & Followers of Jesus do that exact thing.

I just heard someone (a faith-filled Believer & Follower) say they had so many questions and found themselves lost…so they searched the scripture for answers to their very specific questions.  Now hear me, this person is by all observances a very wonderful and strong person-of-faith…but part of me wanted to step in and say, “Why don’t you just ASK Him?”

Also hear me when I say, the Scripture is a Holy Book, it is sacred because of its place in our lives as Believers & Followers, it is a great place to find precedent for questions and answers about life. HOWEVER, Jesus says in the scripture (and Paul underscores what Jesus says) that we now have direct access to THE PERSON in this great BIOGRAPHY: God Himself.  All questions, all love, all thanks, could be directed PRIMARILY and DIRECTLY to Him.

The argument many Christians give, AGAINST this idea, is that you can’t trust that the voice you’re hearing is God’s – when your “filter” is “human” and “sinful”.  In other words, how would you know it’s God speaking and not just your own voice or imagination?

How do I know I’m not justifying my own agenda and giving God the credit?

The answer? Faith.

The theological argument that says I can’t trust that I’m hearing God speak is one I’d like to try on Moses, Elijah, King David, Joseph, Daniel, Paul…etc.  In other words, I’d like to hear from the WRITERS of the scripture about their process in hearing God.  Surely these guys were hearing through a human and sinful filter as well...how did they know, or did they, that God was speaking, and they weren’t just their own voices?

We, as Believers & Followers, don’t always make use of The Spirit like we should.  It is The Spirit, not the Scripture (according to Jesus) who leads us into all Truth.  It is through Jesus, not the Scripture, that we have access to the Great Throne.

The Scripture has purpose, it is Holy and Sacred, it is our primary text, as Believers & Followers, regarding who we are and who He is.  I also realize that the Spirit of Jesus the King will speak in any way we will listen, and for some that is through the scripture.  But that should not be our ONLY way to know God, and it should NEVER be an excuse for unexercised faith.  It should NEVER be an excuse for NOT Praying/speaking directly to the One who leads, teaches, provides, protects and loves us.  I know far too many people who would far rather use the scripture as a rule book and a “thrown brick” than actually have a real conversation with God, who is far more merciful and gracious than they are comfortable with. 

I know far too many people who use the scripture as a “Magic 8-Ball” because it’s easier than trusting their spiritual ears and eyes...because getting to know God in THAT way show them, they are (and have been) wrong…or worse yet, they may be compelled to CHANGE!

Personally, I don’t want to get to that final WEDDING FEAST myself (not sitting in the pew but standing beside the King) and find that I don’t even recognize His voice, as He holds my hand.  As for me, will put the Spirit’s voice first.  I choose to hear Jesus sing, and I want to know His Father…personally.

THE BLOG • by Pastor Ken Rickett

For years and years I lived in a parsonage that was located beside the church facility or across the street from it. When my boys were small, autumn outdoor decorations at our house meant several hay bales with a pile of gourds and a few pumpkins in front of hay. We usually had a shock of corn stalks provided by a farmer in the church…not really Halloween decor! Granted, we got lots of compliments on the autumn displays! For Halloween night we always made jack-o-lanterns lit by candles inside of them. We were very aware of the general public’s ambivalence (and a few church members, not always in my congregation) toward ministers who went “all out” for Halloween. We were quite “low key” with Halloween! As for skeletons…no hint of bones. 

But the years have rolled by. Now that I am retired, my yard is full of skeletons (nine of them), a “cemetery”, and a “Great Pumpkin” up in a tree serving as our sentry. Two of our skeletons are sword-fighting, two are witches kneeling over a black washpot with a cat skeleton lurking nearby, two are sitting in our swings (one is petting a dog skeleton), one tall skeleton holding a scythe stands by the mailbox, one “human” skeleton is walking a dog skeleton, and a child skeleton is riding a tricycle. Our front porch is wrapped in spider webs with several plastic spiders. Mind you, much of this display is lit with eerie lighting at night. All of this is a courtesy of one of our sons. The bones are on full display!

Let me be clear. Several of the congregations I served held “Trunk or Treat” events in which Halloween candies were distributed from the trunks of vehicles in the parking lot and children in the church and community would stroll by, holding out their bags for treats. Halloween was not ignored. Occasionally a car trunk would be decorated with a skeleton, bones of the dead.

Real skeletons have a tendency to last years, if not centuries, after death, but they eventually “go back to the earth.” I have taken the Big Y 700 DNA test, and not only does those results enable a person to identify the more recent ancestors, but sometimes, if a portion of an ancient skeleton survives and is discovered in an archeological dig, a specific gene may show up that you also share with this ancient skeleton.. This doesn’t mean that you are a direct descendant, rather it shows that somehow you share a common ancestor who could have lived thousands of years earlier. One surprising result of my DNA test revealed that I share a genetic marker with some ancient bones found by archaeologists. For example, I share a genetic marker identified in the DNA of skeletal remains found in Skara, Sweden, who lived in the Viking Age sometime between 900-1200 AD. I do not descend from this person, but we do share a common ancestor who lived centuries before 900 AD. Not only that, of persons worldwide who have taken the BIG Y DNA, as of this week I am one of only 109.persons who share this genetic marker with this Swedish Viking!

Another example, I share a genetic marker with the DNA taken from the skeletal remains dug in Pericel, Romania who lived around 1500 in the medieval age and it is likely that we both descend from a common ancestor who lived about 2050 BC (before Christ)! Bones do “talk” through DNA!

Nevertheless, it is not my intent to write a “Halloween” article (although it may be apt for the season), but rather to share some thoughts…. about skeletons. 

Family secrets, especially when something is awry, are described as “skeletons in the closet.” Yeah, bones that we don’t often hear about! In genealogy, I ran across a few skeletons! As a child and teenager, every spring my family went to a small cemetery of a few graves that was literally out in the forest. One person buried there was one of my great, great grandfathers who fought briefly for the Confederacy, deserted and came to Pendleton, Madison County, Indiana, where he lived briefly before joining the 8th Indiana. After the war, he married in Knox County, Indiana in 1868 and they settled in Evansville, Indiana. In 1879, he felt that it was safe to move back to the mountains of Western North Carolina. He died in 1900 and was buried in this small cemetery in the middle of nowhere. I have been to that grave at least 12-15 times. THEN while researching this family recently, I ran across a newspaper interview written a few decades ago in Kansas (ca. 1940s). The person interviewed was one of the sons of this great-great-grandfather, and this son had moved to Kansas as a young man.. My eyes popped out of my head! Here was a story I had never been told! My great-great-grandfather had been killed by a southern sympathizer in 1900, 35 years after the Civil War was over! But that wasn’t the real shock! That interview also stated that the sons and a few select family of this great-great-grandfather had “taken care of” the assailant! Now, there’s a “skeleton in the closet!”

In college, writing book reviews became a chore in some classes. I sometimes struggled with such assignments…. until I spoke privately with my English professor. When she said to me. “I just want the skeleton, not the flesh!”, the light came on! If a designated book was fiction, the professor wanted the plot. If the book was non-fiction such as an essay, then I needed to lay bare the basic argument, but if history, then the impact of the actual events became primary. I learned to write about bones. 

An entrepreneur opens a new business with a “skeleton crew”, meaning that the smaller number of employees will have to assume a variety of duties. Until the business strives, it is also on a “bare bones” budget. But the only bones that matter are the bones which God gives life (ZOE), Yeah, one of the most colorful stories in the Old Testament is Ezekiel’s vision of the Valley of Dry Bones (Ezek. 37). The Lord led Ezekiel to this valley in which Ezekiel walked “around and around”, awed by the immensity of bones that were “very, very dry.” These were very ancient bones scattered all over the valley. Just imagine! Human bodies have over 200 bones. When the Lord commanded Ezekiel to preach to the bones, each bone came together with its bones, and a mighty army of complete, but lifeless, skeletons filled the Valley. The poet James Weldon Johnson captured this image with the catchy song “Dem bones, dem bones, dem dry bones, dem bones gonna rise again!” 

The Lord commanded Ezekiel to preach a second sermon and each skeleton suddenly became covered in muscle and skin…but still lifeless. The Lord commanded Ezekiel to preach a third sermon, and the breath of life entered every skeleton, and they were living beings. What an army filled with new life! “Dem Bones” had arisen! Ezekiel was “preaching” to the Israelites in Babylonian exile. They lost hope and had become very dry. The belief in those days was that God was attached to the land, and once the Israelites were taken captive by the invading Babylonian army, they thought that God no longer favored them. Ezekiel’s vision about bones gave hope precisely because it pictured a God who was indeed with them…even in captivity! Even in an unknown and uncertain future! Even in eternity!

Frankly, Ezekiel’s vision was not a vision of individual persons rising to new life, rather Ezekiel spoke of the whole people of God, a mighty army, Israel, rising to new hope, to new awareness of their relationship with God, to new and deeper fulfillment as God’s people, and yes, to eternal life (ZOE) with God. This vision comes to complete fulfillment in the life, death, and resurrection of God’s Son, Jesus Christ. Our bones, as believers, will not dry out in a parched and isolated land, but shall be raised to new and everlasting life.

“Dem bones, dem bones, dem dry bones – dem bones gonna rise again!”

You know how sometimes you just need to have the right tool? When I was growing up, I remember my dad always seeking out specific tools, power and otherwise, to do specific work.  He loved woodworking, even later in life when he took up wood carving.  He was, for the most part, self-taught, and frustrated that he couldn’t do what he imagined – if he didn’t have the right tool.  When Christmas came around, he was easy to buy for – to say the least. 

Mom cooked and baked and was always seeking just the right utensil or mechanized kitchen wonder. Now I know it’s considered poor taste to buy mom something like a vacuum cleaner, or a blender, for Mothers’ Day or Christmas…as if we males thought of mom as exclusively a homemaker…but I have to say that MY mom (who worked for the government, outside the home as well) was hardly happier than when dad and I would find her that one specific “thing” she dearly wanted for the kitchen…admittedly, it was a two-way street, as dad and I thoroughly enjoyed whatever that “thing” helped mom create in our mid-century-modern kitchen.

The other day I needed something very specific to, solidly but carefully, fix some loosened trim inside the house.  I knew just the thing: a hammer I’d had for years.

This hammer is nicked, worn, it used to have bright red with gold paint on its handle.  It is hefty, feels strong but has a perfectly balanced weight in the hand.  The head of the hammer is still solid, but somewhat rounded over the years.  It is, for me, the perfect hammer…and for this job, it was the perfect thing.

I purchased a new hammer once, thinking that I should.  The handle was not wood, it was some man-made material.  It was smaller and didn’t feel as solid or comfortable.  I still have it, but it’s not the same.

I remember one Christmas dad and I were so pleased with ourselves about getting mom a new, “Avocado Green” blender to replace the large stainless steel one she had been using since the Truman Administration.  It was perfect: shiny, a little smaller, and that new trendy color so popular in the 70’s.  Mom was pleased…at first.  Then, she discovered it wasn’t so “perfect” as it seemed…and it broke down, not able to handle the greatness of mom’s cooking.  She went back to the old one…the one that did the work…the one that wasn’t “perfect” but “perfect” for her.

Like the hammer I have, newer didn’t necessarily mean better, or “perfect”. 

When I think of my hammer, and the story of the blender…I think of the word, “perfect”.  I think of the somewhat troublesome scripture from Matthew, one that has tripped up greater minds than mine: “Be perfect, therefore, as your Heavenly Father is perfect.” (Matt. 5:48). 

Again, there are subtleties in the ancient languages that sometimes translate into less-sophisticated words in English.  In English, in this time and place, “perfect” often means, “without flaw”.  When stewing over Matthew 5:48 I knew the only time I would ever be “without flaw” was after I passed from this Age into The-Age-To-Come.  So why does the scripture insist that I be “perfect” now?

Then I looked up the Greek word translated into our English, “perfect”.  The word is “teleios”, and it certainly does not mean, “without flaw”.   This glorious epiphany opened my mind and heart to the realization that God designed me for something, and when I do that something, I am “perfect”.

“Teleios” is defined as something that reaches “full maturity”, something that is “complete” – and the best definition I found was, “something or someone that behaves and works exactly as it was designed to do and be.”

Being what it is designed to be. Doing what it is designed to do. 

My mom’s “perfect” and new blender actually DIDN’T do what it was designed to do – therefore it wasn’t really “perfect”.  My hammer is far from “without flaw”, with its faded paint, and nicked head…but it is perfect for the job, it is perfectly balanced for my hand, it works well with me.

“Be exactly who you are created to be, just as your Heavenly Father is exactly who He is supposed to be.” – Perfectly suited, flaws and all.

‘The best thing about my hammer, aside from its “perfectness” for me?  It was my father’s.

What my Father GAVE TO me is “perfect” FOR me.

The middle of my week always involves a little “mind focusing”; getting out of the home office and clearing my head.  So, I eventually ventured out in “Latifah” (my Buick) and headed for the office. So, the other day, I backed out of the driveway and started driving around doing some errands, dropping off, picking up, etc.  Once out on the road I realized that my “tunes” weren’t playing…and my mind adjusted accordingly.

I turned onto the “main drag”, avoiding a suicidal squirrel, in the middle of the road, staring at mearing me to hit him (her?)…I almost felt like aiming.  Then I started the search through my music lists.

I have an old iPhone in my car, it contains MOST of my listening playlists; everything from Bach to Billy Joel.  It is magically connected to “Latifah”.  I searched until I came to my playlist titled: “SOUNDTRACKS”.

Now, some of you know this, because (unfortunately for you) you’ve sat through a film with me, in the theatre.  But I am a “movie-soundtrack junkie”.  I love film soundtracks, have my favorite composers, and have collected soundtracks in a playlist.  I thought, THAT’S what I want to listen to today.  I selected and pressed play.  (I DID manage to miss hitting Mr. Squirrel, I believe).  Music from GLADIATOR (Hans Zimmer, composer) began.  For those of you unfamiliar with the soundtrack, it is glorious and epic.  An unrealistically large symphonic orchestra with what must be 20-ton kettle drums and a thousand horns.  It is massive, majestic, soaring…and it reaches into my soul.

Suddenly, I was no longer a middle-aged, out-of-shape man driving to work.  I was a tall and strong, impervious, red-blooded male – guiding my gold-metal carriage of terror along streets that were suddenly beautiful and regal.  Any stray squirrels that happened in my path would be quickly dealt with.  If I had a broadsword in the passenger seat (and I HAVE before, I’m an actor) I would have put it in my left hand and held it high in the open window…all the way to the church office!

The music changed me that much.

In a way, I’m not surprised.  Film scores are the “sub-text” in every film.  Where there is action, music accelerates it.  Where there is deep emotion, music amplifies it.  Where there is deception, music names it.  And where there is completion, music crowns it.  And so, it is with me. 

And so it is with the Spirit.

I thought then, as I think now, much of the Spirit’s work is like music.  This Spirit; Comforter, Teacher, Counselor and Empowerer, “underscores” my life.  You notice, in the pathetic scenario above, no reality changed.  I WAS still driving past the normal scenery of Anderson.  What had changed was my vision, my foresight, and my confidence.  Because of my personal soundtrack, my outlook on present conditions changed.  In all that ride I was transformed from sad, depressed, and blue…to joyful, energized and bold!

For me, music is the main language Jesus uses when He wants to speak to me – it may not be so for you.  But I know the Spirit is looking to “underscore” your life and change your perspective in whatever way you choose to listen.

Maybe it IS music.  If so, I highly recommend the soundtrack to GLADIATOR – just keep an eye on the speedometer, and don’t keep your broad-swords in the car.

A BLOG by Pastor Ken Rickett

Some sentences are just loaded with insight…which has the capacity to jolt us and make us ponder its depths. Just sayin’. These very words can change one’s mood and sometimes the direction of life itself. You know, just sayin’. And such insight can speak poignantly to both life’s fullness and life’s fragility.

Just sayin’.

When I was a young teenager, I was with my grandmother when she visited a sister-in-law. Unexpectedly, when we arrived, there were three or four other up-in-years ladies visiting there, all septuagenarians or octogenarians, and one of them was a school classmate of my grandmother’s whom she had not seen in over 50 years. Eventually, these elderly folks began discussing the tendency of older folks to lose their mental capabilities. This newly found classmate said nothing during the discussion, and when it got quiet for a few seconds, she said, “Well, there is nothing but a fence between me and a fool and the gate’s wide open!”

After the laughter subsided, the conversation turned to other things. But on the way home, my grandmother re-told the conversation, and then added, “there’s a lot of truth in those words!”

The sober news is that people of any age live with an open-gated fence between them and a fool! On the other hand, a lousy memory creates a clear conscience. In other words, when the gate is wide open and it is so easy to make a fool of ourselves, the chances of a clear conscience might be more elusive than we think! Just sayin…!

“After a fellow makes his mark in the world, a lot of people show up with erasers!”

Surely those words were first uttered by a politician in a close campaign! But if the truth be told, most of us are probably born with big erasers in our hands rather than a silver spoon in our mouths! Sounds characteristic of humanity. Just sayin’…!

“One rule for friendship is to keep your heart a little softer than your head!” Heads are too prone to pick at one’s shortcomings and humanity, but the heart recognizes that friendship is sailing in the same boat and being rocked by the same waves. Just sayin’…!

“You can only go as far as your mind lets you.” True enough, but I think you can go much further…. when guided by the Spirit of God. Just sayin…!

“Courage is not the absence of fear, but the ongoing mastery of it.” That sounds like something that would be said by someone who has discovered that the perfect Love of God casts out fear. Just sayin’…!

“The next time you are feeling extra perfect, it’s time to try a few walks on water.” Just sayin’…!

“If a person tells you that nothing is impossible, then ask him to dribble a football!” With God nothing is impossible, but I have learned again and again that I am not God. Just sayin’…!

“Kindness is loving people more than they deserve.” Just sayin’…!

“It isn’t enough to talk about peace, one must believe in it. And it isn’t enough to believe in peace, one must work at it.” Just sayin’…!

“English is a strange language. A fat chance and a slim chance mean the same thing,” Strange. A little white lie and a whopper are still a fib! Just sayin’…!

“The first proof that man has reached the planet Mars will come when he is notified that his suitcases went to Venus.” AH! We can’t stand to be separated from our possessions…. Just sayin’…!

‘Many promising reconciliations have broken down because, while both parties came prepared to forgive, neither came prepared to be forgiven.” Just sayin’…!

My source for the above quotes did not include the author or book. Nevertheless, with all your understanding, get wisdom (and live by it). That’s biblical. Just sayin’….!

One of my very first memories is my dad lifting me up so I could see over the balcony of our American apartment in Frankfurt, Germany, and hear the carolers in the courtyard below, singing German carols.  (It’s still not Christmas until I hear some German carols reminding me of my earliest Christmas memories.) 

I grew up with singing parents, and in a singing church. Singing in a group has been a part of my life, continually, since I was born.

Several years ago, some “musical friends” had a large “music” party filled with all sorts of food and drink that had no nutritional value in the least and friends, old and young, just getting together to sing some hymns. At the door we were handed a customized bound book of hymns and psalms (and “spiritual songs”).  The guests were, for the most part, singers by profession.  All night we ate, drank, laughed, chattered, and sang…it was a taste of my own personal heaven.  As I sat and looked at and listened to the variety of singles, couples, and groups, all ages, all types, I smiled and listened as everyone sang along.  Some songs were familiar, others were not…and no one cared.  It was a great evening!

I was especially taken with the thought that we all were singing the same song, but not all were singing the same notes, some were singing the same words, but maybe not at the same time as everyone else…on purpose, or not.  Some were singing the melody, and at one point we sang a duet, and the treble voices sang one part, and the lower voices the other.  It was beautiful and the differences in voice, range, dynamic and polyphony (singing various moving lines of music simultaneously) still created a unified thought and the sense that ALL of us were “journeying” together to the same conclusion, along the same theme, but at different paths.

The phrase, “many paths to God” is one that Christians have avoided because it seemingly conflicts with Jesus own words, “I am THE way, THE Truth and THE life…no one comes to the Father except through Me.”  I don’t think the “many paths” idea conflicts with Jesus at all…I may be “splitting hairs”, but I believe that Jesus is stating there is ONE DOOR…but it is also obvious to me, in the scripture and in life, that each of us comes to that door through a variety of ways.  It also seems evident, by virtue of the scripture, that each of us feels, sees, hears, and experiences things in a different way.  Our journeys of faith have different beginnings, but the same end, have different twists and turns, but the same arrival point, have different tempos of transport, but the same destination.

I don’t believe that God wants us all to sing in unison, because we couldn’t…we are all as different as Soprano is from Alto, and Tenor is from Bass.  Jesus has a song written specifically for each of us.  Also, the scripture reminds us, there are “a variety of gifts, but One Spirit”.  We also have differences built into us, and we begin our journeys at different times.  Our perspectives of God are different depending on what He has done for and to each of us, and where we are in our maturity as Spiritual beings.  We couldn’t and shouldn’t sing in unison.  It is not the church’s job to make its congregation “toe the party line”, but to know the breadth and depth of the love of the Father…nurturing the Spirit in each person to “lead into all Truth.”

We are made to sing the song together…but without the beauty of our individual voices and parts the song would not be so rich, so full, so moving…it is the combination of ALL our “journeys to Jesus” that makes the voyage so wonderful…and the destination cadence so breath-taking.

We were created to sing in HARMONY.

A couple of weeks ago I experienced the joy of a body slowly falling apart.  While on vacation I had the audacity to sit in a chair, you heard me correctly, I SAT in a CHAIR.  I didn’t twist, I didn’t turn, I did nothing out of the ordinary.  And yet, my right knee (the right side of my body, where nothing works well) suddenly was injured in some way.  It has ached ever since, although a little better every day with some walking and stretching…good grief (as my sainted mother would say).

In the scheme of life this is a minor, very minor, thing to experience.  And many of my friends suffer much more than this.  For me, it is, after all, not my hands.  I use my hands every day to do all sorts of work.  And although I have arthritis in my right hand (again with the right side of my body) I can deal with that.  The knee is not my voice.  In the scope of my physical body, the place that hurts and cripples me is a small area, not even as large as my fist.

However, I am stunned at the realization that even that small place, when “out of place” affects absolutely EVERY part of my body and EVERY part of my life.  I find myself “re-thinking” about walking down the hall, or getting in and out of chairs, or going up and down stairs.  How long will I have to sit?  Will I be able to stretch out my right leg? Will I be able to get up?  How much sleep will I lose because I can’t find a comfortable position?  If I lose that much sleep, will I be able to do everything I need to do tomorrow?  How much ibuprofen can I take without jeopardizing my kidneys or what-not, should I just go ahead and switch to morphine (kidding)?  I’ll bet that many of us have had ALL and more of these kinds of thoughts. 

And have you noticed how even the smallest discomfort, pain, or brokenness affects the rest of the body?

And here is the lesson: In our collective “body”, this community of faith, there are many people with many different gifts to offer.  There are many ways that each of us fit into the “brickwork” of this Body of Christ…some are obvious, and some are not…and no one is unimportant or less connected than another.  AND, like our physical bodies, if the “toe hurts”, the arm may not feel the pain, but the arm will be affected by what the toe cannot do.  When one of us hurts, we all are affected, whether we feel it or not. 

Once again, one cannot be a believer and follower of Jesus in the abstract.  Faith is a COMMUNITY event…our BELIEF is nothing without ACTION.  ACTION is played out as we love each other as Jesus loves us:  totally, sacrificially, and sometimes unrequitedly.

Why do we take the time and trouble to ask for and publish prayer requests?  First, because prayer works.  Secondly, because we care.  Thirdly, and most selfishly…because YOUR pain affects ME.  YOUR pain, and MY pain, affects all of us.

John Donne, another one of my favorite writers; the poet-priest who lived in a time when the church bell tolled three times at the death of a villager, wrote this God-inspired and familiar collection of lines:

 No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend’s were.
Each man’s death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

And, the Apostle Paul (another one of my favorite writers) said:

Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ.  For we were all baptized by one Spirit to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink.  Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many. Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body.  And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body.  If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be?  But in fact, God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be.  If they were all one part, where would the body be?  As it is, there are many parts, but one body.
I CORINTHIANS 12: 12-20

Let’s continue to be “connected”, especially when there is no pain, where there is no imminent reason, but just because we need to be connected.  Then, when there IS pain to share or pain requiring comfort, we have already been practicing the action of love required by us if we are to call ourselves a community of faith, a congregation. 

One day, when I was out for a neighborhood walk, I noticed two boys and an adult walking along the street.  One of the young boys had a bike which he was “walking” behind the other young boy, who was slightly ahead.  The boy with the bike accidently (as it looked to me) ran into the boy who was walking, just a bump, nothing major.  Immediately the boy in front turned around and without so much as a word hit the other boy in the shoulder.  The boy with the bike threw it down and started to pound on the other boy…the adult immediately jumped in and broke up what had started.  Now I don’t know the “back story” I only know what I saw…but these boys were young, very young, and I wondered at what age we all learn to hit back when we are hurt.  Because it IS a “learned” behavior…and not the way we were created…and not the way of the Kingdom we “Followers” call Home.

At whatever age we’ve learned to hit back harder, or repay an equal amount of pain, we also learn to apply that principle to every part of our lives.  We learn the subtle ways of “getting back” or “getting even” and call it “fairness”.  We learn it, and we practice it.  It becomes a part of our politics: whatever happened to simply stating your platform and being polite, without attacking your opponent?  It becomes war: how long have countries fought, simply stating that they are paying back for the attack on them?  It all seems so natural…after all, I have the right to defend myself, don’t I?  I have the right to say that if you hurt me, you deserve pain also…isn’t that the case?

Some people who identify as “Christian” do the same thing, without a second thought, even though “fighting back”, “getting even”, “causing pain”, “an eye-for-an-eye” is completely, irrevocably, and undeniably against ALL that Jesus, the King, teaches in that black book they hold up while screaming curses at those who are different than them.

When our soldiers across the sea are killed, mutilated, their bodies dragged through the streets…I am not surprised, I am horrified that any human could do that to another, but am not surprised.  That is the kind of behavior I expect from the ignorant and ungodly.  I would hope that is never the kind of behavior any American citizen would engage in…but I know that I’m wishing for something that is probably not to be.

However, we who follow Jesus (and if you’re going to call yourself a “follower of Jesus” you actually DO need to “follow Jesus”…otherwise, you’re just a “fan”) should be behaving in a manner that HE teaches us.  No matter what country we live in, no matter if our bodies live in the USA or somewhere else, we are citizens of the KINGDOM OF GOD, and we simply don’t behave that way.

Not because we haven’t been hurt, we have.
Not because we haven’t been slandered, we have.
Not because we haven’t been humiliated, we have.
But because we simply don’t behave that way…no matter what they do to us.  The minute we hit them back, we become them, we ignore our citizenship in the Kingdom, and we cause God grief.  

If we are going to “follow” Jesus, then we have no other choice but to do as He commands: walk the extra mile, turn the other cheek, love (LOVE) our enemies and pray for them…and be IN the world…but, unlike “them”, not OF the world. 

My prayer is that there will come a time, soon, when others will know we are Christians by our love, and not just because our Facebook status says so.