A BLOG written by Pastor Ken Rickett

Romans 8: 34-35, 37-39
Who is he that condemns? It is Christ who died, yea, rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who makes intercession for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? No! In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loves us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels , nor principalities, nor powers, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

 Think of your parents, or your children or grandchildren. Think of your siblings and cousins and close friends. Choose any of them (or all of them) and ask yourself, “what are (his/her name) favorite things?” Write them down. Now ask each one of them, “what are your favorite things?” After you hear the answers, did you know them as well as you thought you did?

What are MY favorite things? I am fairly new in town, so most of you may not be able to name many of my favorite things. Yet, knowing my favorite things allows you to know more about me. Here’s a list:

My favorite holiday: Thanksgiving

My favorite hobbies: Genealogy & yard/gardening

My favorite flower: Poinsettia

My favorite pie: Peach Cobbler

My favorite cake: Red Velvet (made from scratch with beets)

My favorite vegetable(s): Sweet Corn, Okra, white sweet potato

My favorite poets: Joyce Kilmer and Robert Frost

My favorite TV programs: College football

My favorite professional football team: The Indianapolis Colts

My favorite season: Winter

My favorite treat: Ice Cream

My favorite snack: Chocolate!

My favorite wintertime activity: jigsaw puzzles of 1000 or more pieces

My favorite season of life: retirement!

My favorite wife: Della, certainly, 49 years!

My favorite hymn lyrics: In the Bulb There Is A Flower

     (p 638 in Chalice Hymnal)

My favorite book: The Bible, of course!

Some items are missing from the list above. My favorite movie, for example, is difficult to name because I do not understand voices in movies without closed captioning; hence, I do not go see them. My favorite memory from childhood, or during college/seminary days, or when my children were growing up is just too difficult to limit to one or two of them! I did not name my favorite author for a couple of reasons: one, several of them are theologians whose writings shaped my thinking and my preaching; and two, I enjoy biographies and genealogies and history which are written by many different people.

And there are some favorite things that I will never separate by name: favorite child or grandchild because the nature of love is indiscriminate. Of course, there are different traits that I admire about each of them. Yes, I see their strengths and weaknesses and they see mine. Should any of them personally say that I have a “favorite” child or grandchild, I can only acknowledge that perception in spite of my efforts to show no partiality. The truth is that our offspring (and grandchildren, etc.) may be quite different in temperament, personality, giftedness, and whimsy. But when all is said and done, there is a huge difference between “my favorite things” and “love for each member of one’s own family.”

I have just one more favorite, and I will call it my favorite marvel. What is it that amazes me and fascinates me and surrounds me and causes me to marvel? I marvel at God’s Love revealed in Jesus Christ. William Barclay reminds us that one of the earliest creeds of Christianity says “He (Jesus) was crucified, dead and buried; the third day he arose from the dead, and sitteth at the right hand of God, from which he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.” While the Apostle Paul would certainly acknowledge that Jesus “shall judge the quick and the dead” and Jesus would undoubtedly have that right and power, that is not what Paul says. The Apostle Paul declares that “Christ is at the right hand of God to “intercede for us.” Instead of being at God’s right hand to judge, Jesus is there to intercede for us, to be our Advocate and to help us. He is there to state the case for us.

What a magnificent view of the love of God revealed to us in Jesus Christ! For us the Risen Christ steps in to turn away the judgment! What a triumphant view of the Christian’s present and future condition! Dr. J. Winston Pearce (my great-uncle, pastor, seminary professor of Preaching, author) reminds us that Paul talks about separation!

“Who,” he asks, “shall be able to separate us from the love of Christ (meaning himself)?” Then he gives a long list of things that often cause separation, namely, trouble, pain, persecution, lack of clothes, danger and peril, the threat of deadly weapons, etc. Paul is convinced beyond a doubt; no principalities nor powers that be, things that may come as well as things present, no height nor depth nor any other living creature can come between us and the love of Christ for us. None of these things shall separate us from the love of Christ! Paul doesn’t stop there; rather, he issues another stunning statement about those who are in Christ, “we are more than conquerors!” And so it is! For Christ shall be at the right hand of God to intercede for us! And we shall, by the love of Christ that intercedes for us, claim an overwhelming victory-eternal life.

I have on my bookshelf a novel by Margaret Craven entitled “I Heard the Owl Call My Name” (New York: Doubleday, 1973) in which she tells the story of a young seminary graduate named Mark, just ordained, who is ready for his first assignment. The day before he was to meet with the Bishop, the Bishop had received word that, unknown to the young minister, a disease would likely take his life within three years. The Bishop decided he would not tell Mark just yet, but rather he would send him to one of his toughest parishes–that of a remote Indian tribe deep into the forests of Canada. Mark, full of energy, but also full of love, quickly endeared himself to the people. He listened to their stories, he respected their customs and traditions which were vital to them in the midst of their growing Christian faith. Mark learned to hunt and to fish with the best of them. He became a trusted friend, a confidante. One tribal tradition was simply that before one died, he or she would hear the owl call their name, sometimes several days or weeks ahead. Then one day Mark himself heard the owl call his name.

He spoke to Marta, an older beloved Indian lady, who was preparing him a meal. He told her, “A strange thing happened tonight. On the banks of the river a while ago I heard the owl call my name.” She did not try to convince him otherwise. She lifted her sweet, kind face, with its wrinkles, and said, “Yes, my son.” Words of endearment. Mark did not know how to tell the village that he had heard the owl call his name and must leave soon. But Marta had passed the word around. Keetah, the female leader of the tribe saw Mark alone the next day, and she came to him and said, “I have come to speak for our people,” she said, “and there is something we wish you to do for us.” Mark replied, “Of course, anything I am able to do, I will.” She said, “Stay with us. We have written to the Bishop and asked that you remain among us because this is your village and we are your family…” And so it was. He lived among them, loved as one of them. And after his burial in the little churchyard Marta lifted some words of advice to Mark’s Spirit: “Walk straight on, my son. Do not look back. Do not turn your head. You are going to the land of our Lord.” Just as Keetah interceded on behalf of the village and asked Mark to spend his days with them, there was no doubt with Marta, Mark’s dear friend, that . . . Christ would intercede for Mark who would walk straight on…!

My favorite marvel: Christ’s love for us! Years ago when I was in middle school, the youth choir at my home church learned and sang a song entitled “Love of God” (Warner Chappell Music, Inc.) I have written a few verses because it catches my deep sense of marvel!

The Love of God is greater far

Than tongue or pen can ever tell

It goes beyond the highest star

And reaches to the lowest hell

Could we with ink the ocean fill

And were the skies of parchment made

Were every stalk on earth a quill

And every man a scribe by trade

To write the Love of God above

Would drain the ocean dry

Nor could the scroll contain the whole

Though stretched from sky to sky

O Love of God, how rich and pure!

How measureless and strong!

It shall forevermore endure

The saints and angels song

Well, we’re coming up to one of my favorite Sundays of the Church Year…THANKSGIVING SUNDAY!

I don’t know why this has always been one of my favorites…it could be because Autumn is my favorite time of year, or that I always got to be with my cousins, etc. on Thanksgiving, or that Christmas is right around the corner.  Whatever the reason, there’s something about Thanksgiving that speaks to MY heart and soul in a way that no other holiday does.

I’ve never really had an unbroken “tradition” related to Thanksgiving, each year has been a little different, some here in Anderson, some in Seattle, some in Chicago…followed by a little Christmas shopping the next day.  A few years ago we celebrated in Havana (Cuba).  I’ve had turkey, ham, lobster and even German food on Thanksgiving…who knows what it will be this year.  So it’s not the “tradition” that I love so much.

When asked about their favorite holidays, recently on THE TODAY SHOW (NBC)…almost all the personalities working on the show said that theirs was also THANKSGIVING.  When asked “why?” they almost unanimously replied that it was non-commercialized, a time with family and friends, and little else on the agenda.

Although I’m not a sentimentalist, that is probably what I love also; the time to just enjoy family and friends and reflect on how blessed I am to be surrounded by those whom I love.

“Thanks” is a word, according to the scripture, that needs to be said often, and out loud, to God and to our friends.  Thanks in and during all times and in all situations.  THANKS, at the beginning of the day, THANKS at the end of the day.  THANKS for the small things and thanks for the larger things.

Why is an expression of gratitude so important to God?  I’m not a super-theologian, but I know that when I say, “thank you” to God it reminds me that ALL good gifts come from Him; that I am not responsible for my own provision, really.  I am reminded that my mere presence on earth is subject to His whim, and anything that is good in my life is because of Him.  When I realize that I love Him more.

When we say, “thanks” to each other, we realize that we are not separate lives, each going about our own business on courses of our own, disconnected from the rest of the world…but in reality are “owing” one another…we are “in debt” to the ones we love, and even the ones who serve us that we don’t know…we are, in short, connected to each other and will not win the game of life without their help.

The one who receives the “thank you” is empowered because they are recognized.  A “thank you” is like a little more fuel that cause one to go further, strive longer, jump higher and when we say “thank you” we are using the power of the Holy Spirit to fill and fuel another person for good.

That’s why the words, “thanks” and “giving” go so well together.

 “Give THANKS to the Lord, for He is good.” PSALM 136

“Give THANKS to each other, for that IS God.” (RV)

I have tried, this month, to intentionally speak aloud one person, thing or concept I am thankful for…every day.  I have to say, when I first decided to do it I wondered if I could keep it going through the entire month…I mean, could I find something to be thankful for each day without repeating myself?

Now, in the middle of the month and heading toward THANKSGIVING DAY I am astounded at what this “practice” has done to to me.

I use the word “practice” because I’m an actor and a musician, for me that word has a significant meaning.  Practice, like exercise, strengthens certain parts of body, plants (through repitition) a habit that becomes natural…and changes who you are.  That’s what GRATITUDE does.

When analyzing exactly what GRATITUDE and saying “thank you” is, I find that it isn’t a weakness…it’s a strength.  It is power.  Being thankful:

1) releases us from the false need of having to take care of everything ourselves

2) it acknowledges our ignorance of what will happen next

3) it acknowledges the fact that every moment is an undeserved gift

4) it connects us to each other (as we are dependent on each other)

Sometimes, to define or teach a concept, I need to find the opposite concept and define it…and so, believing that the opposite of GRATITUDE is INGRATITUDE I suddenly realized that really isn’t accurate.  If GRATITUDE acknowledges our dependence on God and others for everything in our lives, then the opposite isn’t INGRATITUDE, it’s ENTITLEMENT.

Where GRATITUDE releases us from the false need of having to take care of everything ourselves, ENTITLEMENT creates the illusion that we are responsible for everything.  Where GRATITUDE acknowledges our ignorance of future events, ENTITLEMENT tells us that we are in control, or should be.  If GRATITUDE tells us each moment is a gift, undeserved, then ENTITLEMENT tells us that the world and God owe us.  Where GRATITUDE connects us to each other, by showing our need to give and receive…ENTITLEMENT separates us from each other.

I’ve found that for myself, and what I observe in others: people who “practice” GRATITUDE are generally happy, satisfied, content and joyful.  Whereas, when one sees unhappy, dissatisfied, discontent and angry people (or when we see those qualities in ourselves) it isn’t surprising to find they (or we) are not practicing GRATITUDE.

The older I get, the more I realize I can only control so much.  The more years I live, the more I realize that I am only as strong as those around me…I owe a debt to those people, and my God, who have given me so much.

Today I am thankful.  And I leave you with my own original creed…one that I believe Jesus sings to me each day:

Every moment has its time.

Every person has their place.

Do not brush aside either.

In doing so, you may also brush aside

God’s wish for you to either

ENJOY or BE the miracle needed

In that moment, or for that person.

Happy Wednesday, Everyone!

This is Delores, Pastor Rick’s cat.  Mr. Blu (Cito’s cat) and I successfully “hacked” into the human’s laptop and are typing this email to you today, primarily to show that we are more than just cute, adorable, cuddly, and exceedingly bright animals.

As humans go, the ones that lives here in our condo aren’t bad sorts, a bit old, not as quick-witted as they would lead others to believe (especially mine), but still good souls.

I allow my human to pet me and play every-once-in-a-while. That seems to keep him occupied enough to not notice when I take part in my regular surveillance of the countertops and tables (when he is asleep).  It also distracts him so that I may step onto his midsection and test it for internal-organ weaknesses to be exploited when needed (a precautionary measure that most cats exercise – we cleverly call it a “cat scan”). 

I’m sure that the human is wise in the ways of other humans and God, and serves a purpose at Central Christian Church, but there are some simple, deeper, truths that often go unsaid because our Father has given this knowledge to the “least”…and some of the “least” are four-footed.  Yes, I’ve heard the argument that we four-footed creatures don’t have souls, but I believe (as a devout (MEOW-thodist) that all who breathe, be they human or beast, carry the breath of God…and the breath of God IS the soul.  Mr. Blu (a PURRS-betyrian) agrees: just because our souls don’t require redemption doesn’t mean that we don’t have souls, and it doesn’t mean we won’t step into the age-to-come with you.  After all, isn’t it a little presumptuous of humans to believe they are the only beings that will step into the age-to-come, especially when your scripture specifically states in the age-to-come the LION (a member of my family, by the way) will lie down with the LAMB?

In any case, God is the final answer and it won’t do any good to argue the point now, whether you agree with me or not. 

But Mr. Blu and I do have a few thoughts to share from a “little closer to the floor”, as it were:

1-Clean the litter box regularly.  It may seem like a small thing, but I’ve watched my human become bogged down by the “waste” of things that need to be cleaned out.  There are simply things that need to be thrown out every day…and you all know what those things are, you don’t need them in this world OR the next…clean it out, nobody likes smelly things in your home.

2-You can love someone even when they don’t love you.  I don’t know how many times I’ve had to let my human know that I really don’t like to be picked up!  He will do it time and time again…I can’t blame him, after all I AM Delores, but really…when I want you to hold me I’LL crawl up in YOUR lap.  He’s learning.  He now will smile at me or chatter his inane sounds lovingly in my direction as I’m enjoying the sun on the back of his sofa. I’ll acknowledge him, but if he is late and not home where he is supposed to be, at the appointed hour, I have to admit that I really don’t want anything to do with him.  The human has, at least in my observation, learned to love me in spite of myself…true love is not necessarily reciprocal…isn’t that what Jesus said? .  Finally, keeping the caveat above in mind,

3-Always take the time to share love.  It may be a word, a touch, a smile…simply reaching out and rubbing a belly (although I enjoy that, I’m not sure that’s something you want to do between human strangers) We don’t know when we will step from this world to the next and it is always better to “take care of business” when one thinks of it…especially in the ways of love and God.

There, we’ve said what we wanted to say…for now.  And I must stop, I’m not sure you realize what a trial this is to type on a human keyboard, without the luxury of opposable thumbs.  I hope you thank God for yours, I’m sure they make things much easier to accomplish!

Until we speak again (and we will),

Delores and Mr. Blu

By Pastor Ken Rickett 

MATTHEW 13: 24-30:
Then he put forth another parable to them, “The Kingdom ofHeaven”, he said, “is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while his menwere asleep his enemy came and sowed tares (weeds) among the wheat and wentaway. When the crop came up, and ripened, the weeds appeared as well.
Then the owner’s servants came up to him and said,
‘Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field?

Where did these tares (weeds) come from?’
‘Some blackguard has done this to spite me,’ he replied.
‘Do you want us then to go out and pull them all up?’
 said his servants.

‘No,’ he returned, ‘if you pull up the weeds now, you would pull up the wheat with them. Let them both grow together till the harvest. And at harvest-time I shall tell the reapers,

‘Collect all the weeds first and tie them up in bundles ready to burn, but collect the wheat and store it in my barn.’” 

Have you ever engaged in an “exercise in futility?” I have.

Just last week I swept the hardwood floor in the living room while the sun’s rays were brightly shining through the window and bathing much of the floor in sunlight. It seemed as if there was far more dirt in the air than in my dustpan! Then, after working on the computer for a while, I went back into the living room and behold, the end tables which I had dusted before sweeping were covered again. I thought, “why did I even bother to sweep the floor? Or dust the end tables?” What an exercise in futility! I have concluded that the best time to sweep the floor is at midnight with only a dim night light allowing me to avoid tripping over furniture as I sweep!

Dust is an imperfection in which we learn to cope…even if we have to dust and sweep every day or every week. I still remember my Grandmother taking her quilts off the bed on a warm sunny morning, hang them up over a clothesline, and beat them with a broom handle. Little poofs of dust would explode with each strike and then less and less dust with subsequent blows. Then she would leave the quilts out all day to “sun.”

Then eventually it was a task to do all over again.

Was this an exercise in futulity. . .or a means of coping and accepting an imperfection that exists? 

Some people like to eat tender dandelion greens and others see these plants as a weed and a nuisance. For me, I just want my front yard, in particular, to be free of them. In the spring I use fertilizer that only allows grass to flourish. Yet, all through the summer I use my dandelion weeder often. As far as my yard goes, I have succeeded in keeping them from blooming and scattering their airborne seeds throughout my yard, but I must stay vigilant by using that dandelion weeder weekly! But I can’t control the dandelions in other yards and fields around me. So it is a constant battle to weed them out of my yard before they reproduce. Yes, sometimes I wonder why I even attempt such an exercise in futility! But each week that I stroll through my yard with my dandelion picker, the truth finally takes hold. . .my yard will always be prone to this imperfection.

Like dust, dandelions will never be “controlled”; these imperfections have dwelt and will dwell on and on forever. The parable about pulling up the tares found in the wheat fields is a clear example of an exercise in futility.

Tares, weeds that resemble wheat in the early growing stages, are an imperfection that no one wants to see in a wheat field. The wise farmer tells his helpers (who discovered the tares) to leave the tares alone and wait until harvest to separate the tares and wheat. Why? The roots of the tares and the wheat entangle, thus, to pull up the tares is to also pull up the roots of the good wheat and thereby destroy a good harvest. Yes, it is aggravating to see a wheat field invaded by tares, and the natural instinct is to want to pull them. Far better to wait until harvest when the farm workers can separate the wheat from the tares!

Run that thinking out. We human beings often have little patience with imperfections that we might see; our first instinct is to rip them out or remove them. How futile to think that we can eliminate imperfections in ourselves or in others. Imperfections are ingrained in human life like dust or dandelion weeds or tares. We ministers strive to remind dreamy-eyed couples who are planning a marriage ceremony that when the honeymoon is over, there is an awareness of a zillion imperfections. . .and that a person has to work “with and around” as constantly as sweeping and dusting. Leaving the tares alone until harvest is a clear message: leave the imperfections alone when the greater good (harvest) will be adversely affected! O, to be sure, some imperfections (criminal behavior) are such that punitive action must be taken. However, my point is that too many relationships (not only marriage, but friendship, co-workers, family, etc.) may be harmed when we decide that some imperfections we see in others must be ripped out.

For example, years ago my wife and I had gotten to the point that we were short with some of the other’s shortcomings. Then we learned that we differed in how we picked up on the world around us. I (Ken) tend to be intuitive which means, among other things, that I often instinctively know what may be going on without having to ask or be told. Della, on the other hand is “sensing” person who must rely upon the five senses (touch, taste, sight, hearing, and smell) which means, among other things, that she usually has to ask or see for herself, etc. But once we learned that we pick up on the world around us differently, many of the things that irritated us melted away almost overnight. What we saw as imperfections in each other that we wanted to “rip out” was transformed into a new way for us to understand each other. 

Leave the imperfections alone. Any of us can enjoy long term relationships simply when we wisely realize that we are not in this world to rip out any and all imperfections that we see in each other. If we did so, we would be lonely and alone for sure!

Fred Craddock, well-known Disciples of Christ preacher and author, uses this parable to say to the churches, “leave the tares alone; don’t pull ‘em up!” The old practice of “churching” meant that a person was removed from membership for a “sin” committed, usually with an expectation that such persons would see the error of their ways and ask to be restored. Written histories of a few congregations tell stories about young people who were “dismissed” for dancing, or a man “churched” for chewing tobacco, or a woman “removed” for flirting. Usually the aftermath of these actions is turmoil. Families and kin quit attending. People take sides. Offerings suffer. Why? Because roots are all tangled up: pulling a “tare” also pulls out the good wheat. Leave the tares alone.

Craddock also says, “don’t clean up the membership rolls.” I (Ken) once began a pastorate with a new congregation, and within days I was confronted by an older man who came up to me on a street of that town. I was informed that he would not be back to church, nor his family, nor would his folks support the church in any way. I said, “do you mind telling me why?” To which the response was, “I got the new church directory and my family, including my grown children and their families, were not in it anymore. We may not have attended, but we did support financially when we could. But somebody decided to clean the rolls. . .” So, I did some checking into the man’s story. The new directory was created and printed while the church had an interim minister, and the person assigned to update the membership list with home addresses “removed” people using the criteria of attendance alone. I have learned that the most precious asset of any congregation is the good will of the membership and the good will of the community. Leave the tares alone! God did not call the Church into being in order for the Church to remove tares; that is God’s job. Rather, the Church is called into being to put to share redemptive love and grace as revealed in Jesus Christ, to lift up those who have been overtaken in a fault, to exist in true fellowship with fellow Christians who can admit to being a part of imperfect humanity who are united in a common goal to become the new humanity of God’s people by the increase of love for God and neighbor.

“Leave the tares alone.” Some people place this parable in terms of God’s judgment. That may well be. BUT this parable is about withholding our judgment. Oddly, for those who follow Jesus, to leave the tares alone is a clarion call to love redemptively, to live faithfully, and to become as gracious to one another as we would want God to be gracious (and forgiving) to us!

Every-once-in-a-morning I wake up to face a “Bathroom Monster” that may or may not have crawled up from the depths of my home to scare me in the shower.  This morning a big, brown centipede! 

For some reason, probably the time of year, these “monsters” only invade my bathroom.  The term “Bathroom Monsters” is one that one of my tenants in my Brown-Delaware house (which, as an 1890 Victorian, has its share of creepy-crawlies), used to describe them.

In the morning, especially since the eyes aren’t what they used to be, I’m not at my best and my brain is still asleep.  My muscles and bones are just warming up.  So I like the first place I go to, from my bed, to be a place of comfort, warmth and security.  But I carefully open the shower door and look.  Today it was the centipede.  It seemed, at first, to be about 4 feet in length but as I looked closely I realized it was just about 3 inches long.  Of course, once I started swatting at it with the toilet brush it put all those feet to use and tried to escape fast enough to make me jump.  Then I was really after it…because the only thing worse than the Bathroom Monsters you can see are the ones that you CAN’T see.  Once the beast was totally, and completely, annihilated and spread in pieces from my zeal of destruction, I said to myself: this has GOT to be some kind of lesson for my BLOG.

And here it is. 

FEARS: many of our fears (or maybe I should just speak for myself) are either: blown out of proportion by our own active imaginations, things that haven’t happened, OR things out of our control.

God’s words and actions are very clear to us: “worry” is a killer, and there are many, many things that we need not waste our time worrying about.  “Worry” seems to be “imagination out of control.”  We will play over scenarios that haven’t happened yet, and may never happen.  We “imagine” the worst, in every scenario.

We also worry about events out of our control.  There are things that others have control over, AND EVERTHING is in God’s control.  Even the worst that could happen to us is temporary at best, and many of the fears we have are unfounded.

Thinking on today – here is an event that is well within my control.  After all, this is MY bathroom, and I’m more scary to the largest spider and creepiest-looking earwig than they are to me.  (Yes I have cats that SHOULD be taking care of these issues, but they are actually more gifted at laying in the sun and curling up on the couch…They observe, but do not catch insects.)

Today’s metaphor is a bit ridiculous, but still, how much time do we all spend “fearing” or “worrying” about things that I have power over; or even things that we DO have power over?  I’m convinced that one of the first things we will say to each other, as we stroll through one of the many beautiful parks in the Age-To-Come, is “Can you believe how much time we spent worrying?”

It is said there are 365 “Fear Nots” in the Bible.  That’s a nice thought, there are actually more “Fear Nots” than that from Genesis to Revelation – in many contexts.  God does not want us to fear anything but Him…and THAT fear is the “healthy fear” of knowing we are dealing with a destructive-but-good power way beyond ourselves.  And our God has the power to stand with us and help us conquer any REAL obstacles we fear.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom then shall I fear?” PSALM 27

“Even though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death,
I will fear no evil…”
PSALM 23 

 “With humans it is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
MATTHEW 19 

“I am the Lord your God, who takes ahold of your right hand and says to you, ‘Do not fear, I will help you’.”
ISAIAH 41

 “For I am convinced that NOTHING can separate me
from the love of God which is in Jesus Christ our Lord.”
ROMANS 8

…and another quote, not from the Bible, but from one of my favorite Presidents: because of God’s love and care for us…”we have nothing to fear, but fear itself.”

So go forth and CONQUER your own “Bathroom Monsters” – or REAL fear and worry, for that matter, through the strength and peace that comes from your Heavenly Father! 

For me, working in the theatre is almost the same as being involved with a church congregation: it’s a bunch of diverse people getting together with a variety of talents and gifts, and one single purpose.  Through the process of designing, planning, rehearsing, building, sewing, and creating, actors “bond” with one another and a new community is formed.  That’s one of the main reasons I love it, and have for most of my adult life.

Theatre also feeds the process of teaching, through observing human nature.  Like I always say, God will speak to you in whatever way you’ll listen.  The theatre, and people involved, have (knowingly and unknowingly) taught me a lot about God, about life, and about love.

I’m currently rehearsing a show.  I am assisting as a Stage Manager for our director (Kevin Weston) and am reminded of situations I’ve had before.  One example, one “epiphany”, presented itself to me.

Often, in theatre where volunteers are involved (people with lives outside of the theatre) someone will need to miss a rehearsal and someone else will need to fill in that night.  In one rehearsal I attended, the striking, tall, blonde leading lady with the golden voice was absent and the Assistant Director to the show was obliged to step in, script-in-hand, and sub for her.  The leading lady had a few love scenes, a couple of beautiful songs, and a dance – and the script consistently spoke of her character’s beauty, especially with the line, “She’s an elegant strain of music in the moonlight…with blonde hair”.  Now, the Assistant Director was a round, 55-ish man, balding with a huge mustache and beard…his “uniform” was sweatshirt and jeans.  And no one would want to hear him sing.

During one moment in the rehearsal, one of the actors, in character and speaking with his impeccable British accent, turned to him and said, “You’re the ugliest strain of music in the moonlight with blonde hair I’ve ever seen!”  EVERYONE, including the Assistant Director, laughed.  No one was hurt or offended.

I catalogued the moment.

Everyone laughed.  HE laughed.  Why?  Because it was obvious to everyone, including the Assistant Director in question, that he was neither a woman, tall, blonde, or exactly “beautiful”.  He wasn’t hurt.  Far from it – HE thought it was hilarious.  Everyone enjoyed the joke.  The Assistant Director thought it was funny because he KNEW he wasn’t an “elegant strain of music in the moonlight, with blonde hair.”

Instead, he KNEW who he was.

WORDS are power, and sometimes WORDS do hurt.  In my lifetime I’ve been hit with some ugly and ignorant words.  We’ve all heard the “sticks and stones” phrase, even though experience tells us words are powerful, with a power to be used for good or bad.  So how do we protect ourselves against words that hurt, opinions about us that are untrue?  Do we fight back? Well, we don’t need to.

But we do need to know who we are.  If someone told me I was an ugly tall blonde woman I’m not sure I would be angry, because the accusation is so ridiculous.  I know I’m not tall, blonde, or female.  They couldn’t hurt me with that “instult” because it is so far from who I actually am that it’s silly.

So, why are we hurt when someone says something unkind to us or about us that is clearly not true?  I believe there are a couple of reasons:
1. We are too concerned about what other people think about us, and
2. We are insecure in ourselves about who we really are and think we need validation from others, to be spectacular. 

When a person decides God is who He says He is, and they realize that Jesus is His Son, and God-in-the-Flesh – and decide to follow Him, they become who HE says they are.  And God calls us His children.  This is the same God who spoke the word “light” and there was light.  When He speaks it…it is so.  He thinks you’re the most spectacular bit of stardust He has breathed life into – that it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.  Others don’t have the final say about your life, and neither do they sit on the throne of the universe.

But what about the loudest voice of all, your own?  The scripture assumes that we all love ourselves, sometimes. “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Assumes you love yourself.  We all know that isn’t always the case.  We are our own worst enemies when it comes to believing in our own significance. What is the answer?

Go back to point one; God decides your worth…but He also inhabits your very soul, because it is worthy of Him.  Or at least HE believes so. And, because we belong to Him, we assure that hurtful words never come out of OUR mouths.

When I know who I am and where my “significance” comes from, there isn’t a word anyone can say to penetrate that armor of love and truth, I cannot be permanently be harmed.  Of course, we need to be honest about our abilities and inabilities, not think TOO highly of ourselves, and not compare ourselves with others.  We have to be able to accept unconditional (which actually means, “unconditional”) love.  And we need to continually, continually, practice life within those parameters – it TAKES practice, it won’t happen all at once.

I thank both the theatre and the church for helping me grow my imagination, share my talents, and for speaking God’s Truth to me…in the language(s) I hear.  With that God-given imagination, and in a very “theatrical” way, I see Jesus at the bottom of that hill in Israel called “Mount of the Beatitudes”. In a moment He looks up at me; one lost man in the sea of thousands on the hill that day, and says, “You are the salt of the earth.  You are the light of the world.”…

…and I realize, sometimes God has more faith in me than I do in Him.

Be well, go shine, remember who you are.

He was a professional clown. If you had asked me, at the time, who in the congregation was the LEAST likely to be a clown, I would have said, “that guy.” Don’t get me wrong, he was a wonderful guy; a man of solid faith, warm, and good & kind to me and my family. But I consider one of the primary functions of a good clown is that they are funny. He wasn’t. In fact, sometimes, he was downright depressing. 

Throughout time that I knew him, however, clowning was something he took very seriously (I see the irony). He also saw it as a ministry, and that’s what made him so endearing. He used his not-so-great jokes, tricks, props, and “clown personality” to open a door to God, hoping that others would see God there (when they couldn’t see Jesus anywhere else).

The other thing about this guy was that he was, in all the years I knew him, constantly dying. I mean, he wasn’t REALLY dying but he thought he was, and prepared us all for it. He had his final wishes, written in detail, decades before his exit from this age. He made sure that the staff at church knew his plans. They were elaborate, and many of the personal touches he planned required him to create and construct some things himself. 

He wanted balloons, not flowers. He wanted to be dressed and made up as his clown persona. He wanted his photos and props displayed.  He wanted happy music played (a calliope if we could find one). He wanted jokes told. He wanted tears left behind. He had his portrait painted, as his clown persona, on silk and sewn into the panel of the coffin lid, which he had already purchased.  The best idea (in my mind at least) was a device he drew up and started but didn’t complete:  it was a lapel flower for him to wear in the casket. It was rigged with a hose, a bag of water, and a small foot-operated floor pump. The idea was someone standing near the head of the casket, during “The Calling”, would have their foot near the pump. When a grieving friend or family member approached the casket, bending to kiss or whisper or merely take a closer look at the clown makeup, the flower would squirt water on them.

Nice.

When he did finally pass, we were somewhat shocked. It was an event we had all heard about (from him) for years but never really expected.  Thankfully, all the plans were set.

Or were they? 

His family loved him, to a point, but that love was mixed with the feeling that he was an old fool. When confronted with the detailed plans he had made for the service, they were horrified, humiliated, and flatly refused to fulfill his wishes. (This is where the minister earns his money by acting as referee and arbitrator.)  He tried his best to convince the family of their father’s wishes (I was NOT the Pastor in charge of the memorial, thank Heaven!). They, in turn, gave the reasonable argument that this was a service for his family and friends, not him, since he wasn’t there. Eventually a compromise was reached. 

I don’t know what the best result would’ve been, and I was not a part of the service, just a mourner. But this is what I saw: a funeral constructed compromise and committee. A life, boiled down to compromise and not exactly a good representation of that life, to say the least.  His wishes, not quite observed. 

I walked into the service just before it began. I signed my name in the registry, which was in the entrance alcove of the chapel. I walked a few feet, turned left, and stood at the back of the filled chapel. Looking down the aisle, I saw an open casket surrounded by multicolored, hydrogen-filled balloons. A portrait of the deceased, in full clown face, was smiling and facing me from the lid of the casket. And, from the back of the chapel I could see, barely poking over the top edge of the open casket, a red nose.

I wish that I could say what followed was laughter, inappropriate jokes, and stories and the warmth of a well-lived and remembered life. But that’s not what happened.  What followed was none of what this kind and generous man wanted, it was (based on his family’s wishes) a morose, traditional, and dull affair. A very strange mix, with a clown in the casket…surrounded by balloons.

And I mourned that clown in the casket: a man who saw himself and his destiny as something his loved ones could not, or chose not to, see. And in a way I saw something of all of us. 

Sometimes following our passion, against the odds (or the expectation of others) is very difficult.

Was he a success as the clown he wanted to be? Was he a minister to those who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, see God any other way? I don’t know, but I’d like to think that he was.

But one thing I DO know: On that day that he gave ME a message and he ministered to ME: Use God-given discernment to know through whom The Spirit is speaking.  Follow Jesus.  Follow the path the Father has started in your heart. Don’t let anyone, including those closest to you, distract you from your God-given dream.

Cherokee Legends

GENESIS 1:1-2 In the beginning, God was creating the heavens and the earth, and the earth was without form, and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep, and the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. . .

GALATIANS 5:22-23 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.

Having grown up near the Great Smoky Mountains in a town located about an half hour’s drive from the Cherokee Indian Reservation, I learned a few of the Cherokee legends as I heard them several times. I will share two of them from memory, with apologies to those authors who have written these same stories with many variations.

HOW THE MILKY WAY CAME TO BE
From the beginning of time, every Cherokee family understood the importance of preserving the harvest so that they may have bread and food for the winter. In the autumn, as the corn stalks yield their dried ears of corn, it was gathering time. With ample corn stored, then every few days a few ears of corn were taken and the corn kernels were shelled off of the cob and placed into a hollow bowl. With a wooden pestle, the corn was ground into cornmeal, a tedious task before the days of grist mills. Once the cornmeal was made, it was stored in a basket- enough to make cornbread daily for several days before more corn had to be ground into meal.

One day an old Indian couple had worked hard to prepare their corn into cornmeal, and they carefully stored their basket of fresh cornmeal. Alas! The next morning much of the cornmeal was gone. Looking around they sought clues as to who the thief was. Outside, the ground was covered with scattered cornmeal, revealing the tracks of a giant dog. The old couple said nothing, hoping that it would not happen again. But the next morning, even more cornmeal was taken, and again, the tracks of a giant dog were seen. So the whole village was alerted. Together the villagers held a council and made a plan, namely, they would hide during the night and every one of them would have a rattle or some kind of noise-maker. When the thief came again and entered the area where the cornmeal was stored, the people would make a loud noise that would roll up the mountainside like a roar of thunder. So at dusk, the villagers took their places, careful not to make a sound as the darkness of the night deepened.

Then suddenly, swooping down from the western sky, the giant dog came into the village, landed near the old couple’s tepee, and quietly sneaked into the area where the basket of fresh cornmeal was kept. Just as the dog bit into the cornmeal, loud noise shook the place. Startled, the dog ran outside and the villagers chased it. Suddenly the huge dog arose and streaked across the sky, bits of cornmeal flying from its mouth, forming stars. Immediately the sky was filled with stars of all kinds, far too numerous to be counted. And it dawned on the villagers: this was the Great Spirit in the form of a dog. And the Milky Way, the brighter band of stars, was the promise of the Great Spirit.

Granted, this story has many variations. And yet, I marvel at how different cultures have stories of a “Great Spirit” who brought the heavens and/or the earth into being. The Cherokee, whose ancient ancestors had never heard of the familiar biblical stories that we know, have their own story of the Great Spirit who creates the starry sky. And yes, in the Cherokee language, the word for “milky way” literally means “where the dog ran.”

THE TWO WOLVES
A grandson sat near his grandfather, an old Cherokee elder, and listened to the stories that the grandfather hoped to pass down to the new generations of children. In order to make sure that his grandson was listening, the grandfather said, “Have you heard the story of the two wolves that fight inside people?” “No,” was the quick response, “tell me the story”, replied the grandson.

The grandfather began, “Every person has two wolves that live inside, and they fight all the time. One wolf is evil, and he tries to convince the person to be mean, resentful, argumentative, selfish, revengeful, disruptive, dishonest, disrespectful, envious, and even heretical. The other wolf is good, and he tries to convince the people to be loving, kind, patient, joyful, gentle, peaceful, meek, forgiving, and faithful.”

Responding quickly, the grandson asked, “Who won?”

“Whichever wolf the person feeds” came the answer.

Few legends are as loaded with truth and insight as this Cherokee tale. Who hasn’t known the fierceness of the battle within us? Who hasn’t regretted those moments when the “evil wolf” gets the upper hand of our emotions and our actions. In a day and age when “love” is often perceived as softness that has “no guts and no power”, let me remind you that the love of which Jesus spoke is a “love that is born of the will.” Turning the other cheek is not simply a gesture to defuse an explosive issue for the moment, rather, it is a will to treat that person kindly forever. When Jesus asks us to “lay aside all malice and all revenge”, he meant that agape or Christian love rested upon a will within us that will not allow us to do evil unto others. Yet, Jesus knew the power of human emotions and honored that aspect of life. “Be angry, and sin not” is clearly an admonition to express anger but refrain from acting out toward others in anger. Even Jesus in his anger toward the moneychangers in the Temple, did not smite the moneychangers, but overturned their tables! One element of agape (Christian) love is this: forgiveness! Whether one “forgives and forgets” is NOT the point; rather, the point is that forgiveness as an act of love is also an act of incredible will power. In the New Testament there are a couple of words for forgiveness, but when Jesus said from the cross, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do. . .”, Jesus used a word that meant “do not hold back from total and full forgiveness.” Talk about will power! For Jesus to speak this prayer of forgiveness was to wipe out all feelings of revenge toward those who crucified and/or condemned and/or mocked him. Had we been in Jesus’ place, which wolf would have won the battle within us?

Until we preachers of the Gospel can find the words, meager and weak as they may be, to help us all grasp that agape (Christian) love requires a strong will, the Church may not have the fortitude to face a society in which the bad wolf howls and nips at our heels. Can we, the Church Universal, feed the good wolf enough so that our will (love) is adequate to heal division all across this world? Mind you, I am NOT talking about agreement, I am talking about having the will (love) to honor the sacredness of all life. No, we can’t and won’t be perfect, but when we fall short, shall we feed a little more to the good wolf?

For the first time in my life (since my graduation from college) I’m planning for the rest of my life, which means I’m looking at my retirement years.  And by “retirement years” I mean the years during which most people would retire, but I will be working & BEHAVING like I’m retired.

The boys, MY boys, are now grown and in their twenties/thirties.  They live close by, but in separate homes, creating new lives.  Just when and how did all that happen?

As I look at my boys, at their maturity, and as I listen to them speak, I realize that they have become strong, able, somewhat wise, and grown quickly beyond anything I would be able to teach them or show them…how did that happen? 

How does ANYONE “grow”?  My boys grew.  But they didn’t grow because their mother and I stood over them every day and COMMANDED them to grow.  They grew and matured because we focused on their NURTURE.  We fed them, made sure that they got enough rest.  We educated them and made sure that they were surrounded and protected by educators who reflected and taught what we believed to be the truth.  We gave them extra protection and help when they were weak.  We gave them space to walk and run when they were strong. As a result, they grew.

Their growth was, and is, a result of being nurtured.

Church growth is a subject of thousands of books and even more theories.  In my congregation, we face the question that many other churches ask: how can we survive without growth?  Some churches and pastors believe that focusing on growth itself is the answer, with an effort to push and pull people into the pews.  Unfortunately, some congregations focus so much energy on reaching outside the congregation that they neglect, or forget, the people that are currently in the pews, and neglect their true purpose: Worship.  It’s true in commerce and it’s true in church:  all of the best, cleverest, and most expensive, advertising available to a restaurant won’t do anything but get customers in the door…ONCE…but if the “food” is lousy, no advertising available will get them to return.  Good food is its best advertisement.

My philosophy, which is probably flawed and lacking because I just don’t know everything, is that NURTURE causes growth, even in congregations.  People will be naturally and supernaturally drawn to a place where there is love, where they are fed, where they in turn have an opportunity to feed, and where they are accepted and have a place.  When God’s presence is sincerely felt, no one can help but advertise.

“By this all people will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” JOHN 13:35