This is yet another true story/”epiphany” from my catalog of memories.  I was in my late teens or early twenties, attending a wedding where I knew no one.  Being what I called a “self-contained” musician (keyboard player/singer).  I was often hired play and sing at wedding ceremonies for friends-of-friends-of-friends…because they could get a “twofer” (two-for-one) from me: I could play the Processional AND sing “THE LORD’S PRAYER”!

In any case, aside from getting paid, the other perk was the reception, and there I was drinking green foamy punch and eating a handful of butter mints (and never wavering from my “athletic” 140lbs…ahhh, youth) when I observed a couple of older women walk in.  They were carrying wrapped gifts and cards, dressed for a wedding but obviously had missed it, arriving at the beginning of the reception.  I saw them apologize for their lateness to one of the family at the door, then sign the guest book, deposit their gifts, and grab some punch.  They sat down close enough that I could hear them and speak.  They looked over at the table containing the wedding party.  It was obvious that they, also, didn’t know the wedding party but were acquainted (related?) to the family.  Then I heard one of these sweet, old, ladies say,

“That bride is stunning – but what is she so angry about, I wonder?”

Confused, I turned my head and looked at the Bride and started to chuckle just enough that I had to step out.

OK, there’s more to the story (isn’t there always?) and here it is…and the reason why this comment was both “funny” and an “epiphany.”

Let’s back up to the ceremony, prior to this moment at the reception.  First, the Bride WAS stunning, both in herself and personality.  In dealing with her prior to the ceremony, when we met to talk about the music, she was fun, charming, warm, kind…and altogether out of the league of the Groom (smile).  She also, for the ceremony, wore her mother’s wedding gown, complete with netted veil.  During the rehearsal, the Groom was counseled on everything he was to do, including how to hold his arm so she could take, it, where to stand, how to take her hand from her father who had walked her down the aisle.

He was also counseled about lifting her veil and placing it over her head and in back of her; a nice, but not-seen-too-often-any-more tradition.  Note here that he, in the course of the ceremony, FORGOT to do that.

We move to the UNITY CANDLE lighting.  This is a time (for any of you who have never attended a wedding) when the Bride and Groom each take a candle that has been previously lit by their corresponding parents and together light ONE candle – signifying the creating of one home from two.  This is a brief moment, usually combined with communion or prayer, but usually has a “musical underscore” (which I was providing at the piano) so that it’s not done in silence.

They went to the candles, I began to play.  I was looking down at my hands and not at them when I heard an almost inaudible “whoosh”, and then a slight gasp from members of the wedding party.  I looked up.

Remember, the circa 1940’s veil had not been moved by the Groom.  You guessed it, the Bride bent a little too close to the candle and, “whoosh” the veil went up quickly without even a flame.  All I saw when I looked over was a stunned Bride, a puff of smoke, no veil…and no eyelashes or eyebrows.

She would’ve looked surprised enough…but without eyebrows (and she was fair and blonde) she looked even more stunned.  She began to giggle.  The Groom was horrified and checking her hair, face, fingers, to make sure nothing else was scorched.

The entire moment was a millisecond, and most of the congregation was none the wiser except that after the minister introduced them as husband and wife, had them kiss, and blessed them.  He announced (wisely and kindly) that they would join him in his office vestibule behind where they were standing for the signing of the documents while the rest of the wedding party recessed down the aisle.  The congregation could meet them in the Fellowship Hall.  This was a little lie, as they had already signed the documents, but he saw the need for a little “cosmetic” (literally) work needing to be done prior to the reception.

And so the Bride’s loving, ever-so-sorry, groom then tried to draw on eyebrows – which he insisted on doing.  His Bride, perceiving they would not look great, didn’t want to hurt HIS feelings any more and allowed it.

Jump to the reception and my elderly companions at the next table.  From 20 feet away this sweet, kind, compassionate, new bride had the eyebrows of The Wicked Witch of the West…thus my exit from the reception…

…and my epiphany.

The “back story”, hilarious as it was (and it could’ve been awful) led to an impression of this beautiful Bride that could not have been further from the truth.  She appeared to be one thing and was quite another.  Yet if these ladies had known the story (which was not MINE to tell them) they would’ve known the Bride more fully and seen beyond the wicked, arched, angry, fake eyebrows…painted lovingly on by her less-than-artistic new husband.

A simple lesson from an elaborate story.  How many people do I judge in a moment, based on clothes, behavior, or place?  How many of these people are completely the opposite, in character, than how they are first perceived by me?

Most of us are not very good at knowing how WE are perceived – so how much better could we possibly be at making judgements about OTHERS?  We are very quick to “judge the book by its cover”.

This is the very reason we breath in the “oxygen” of the Spirit – so that we can see like Jesus sees. Remember, part of what oxygen does for our bodies is help us see, as our corneas actually take in oxygen…so it is with the Spirit and our spiritual bodies.  Jesus, again and again, views others with an insight not gained by a quick evaluation based on one glance.

Often that quick evaluation, done by us, plays out in a judgement about the observed person which is difficult to get beyond.  Open eyes, open hearts, and open minds are what Jesus asks from all of us – as we look at each other; friends & strangers. 

We may never know the “back stories” of everyone we see, but we CAN choose to think the best of all, and let Jesus do the judging – which even HE is loath to do.

I SAMUEL 16:7 – Man does not see what the LORD sees, for man sees what is visible, but the LORD sees the heart.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anyone who knows me understands that I have what is the opposite of a green thumb (the opposite color to GREEN on the color-wheel is RED, but saying I have a RED THUMB sounds less disastrous than it actually is) I say that when it comes to plants I have the “thumb-of-death”.  Which is problematic for one who loves to be surrounded by greenery.  In my home the answer is simple, it is filled with silk (AKA: fake) plants and trees.  Outside, in the spring and summer, however, I like to live on my “outdoor parlor” (AKA: “lanai”, “porch”) as much as possible, surrounded by REAL plants.  If I only need to water them, GREAT…I can do that!  So I have a few “greens”.

Once I also purchased a GARDENIA tree.  Gardenias were one of my Mom’s favorites, along with roses (which I am too frightened to try growing) and I equate the fragrance with her, and home.  So my gardenia sat next to my chair on the porch and the full and shiny, deep-green leaves look beautiful…along with the buds, promises of beautiful blooms.

Except that’s the problem…it’s didn’t bloom.

The buds were there, I followed the directions on water (let the soil get a little dry and then give her a good drink…so my gardener-friend says…and she’ll bloom.)  I tried it…didn’t work.  So I went back to my gardener-friend, and without really knowing that she was doing it, she taught me a spiritual lesson that I will pass on.

“Where is the gardenia sitting, on your porch?”

“It…er, SHE…is sitting back against the wall.”

“Do you water her regularly but just enough to keep the soil moist?”

“Yes.”

“Do you pull the yellow leaves off?”

“Yes.”

“Have you used a little plant food or fertilizer, once-a-month?”

“Yes, just once so far.”

“Then it sounds like there’s enough care…just not enough sun.”

Enough care, just not enough sun.

 And there is the SPIRITUAL TRUTH wrapped in a PHYSICAL METAPHOR: “Enough care, just not enough Son.”

The “seeds” planted in us, or the seeds we plant in others (given to US by Jesus) like those in your immediate circles (friends, family, acquaintances and enemies) are indeed the food/care that is required for learning and growth – but even that is not enough for any person to realize their full potential and “flower”.  In fact all that care and food will only take anyone so far, unless they are introduced to the Son.

A gardenia is defined by her blossoms, her fragrance.  She is complete, she is happy.  As the complete happiness of an apple tree (or fig tree) realizes it’s full potential and happiness when it produces what it was made to produce.  We humans are complete and happy when we become who we are meant/designed to be, but we will only get so far with the right food and care – when we are introduced to the Son, we bloom.

The Greek word for “perfect” (teleios) would be understood, by those who spoke the language in Jesus’ day, as “coming to fullness – maturity – doing exactly what it is meant to do”.  We make the error of reading that passage and saying to ourselves, “I will never be without flaw.” Which is how WE read “perfect“…but that’s not what the writer of Matthew, or Jesus meant (Matthew 5:48).  They meant…“be who you are supposed to be, in fullness, in maturity…as God is also”

I am happy to do all that I can in my limited way, to bring good food and good care – but the greatest thing any Pastor, or any BELIEVER & FOLLOWER, can do is introduce someone to the Son.