THE BLOG by Rev. 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

I began playing the piano regularly, around 62 years ago this year.  Not only is that number astounding to me, as is looking in the mirror these days, but I’m thinking about how the piano (and music in general) became such a natural part of my personality – and how that all began.  I’m starting to take some memories from the back of the “filing cabinet” of my mind…and I thought today about my first “RECITAL”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some people will always be present to cheer you on. 

Some will be there to hope you fail. 

Some don’t want to be there.

Some have no idea where they are. 

But you: set your course.  Look to the goal.
Take it all in, but don’t let it distract you from your purpose. 

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

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

…and play your song.

I am, as I do every Christmas season, reading my favorite Christmas book, Charles Dickens’ “A CHRISTMAS CAROL”.  Through the years I’ve had several copies of this story, one is in a collection of Dickens’ classics, one is in a collection of other Christmas stories, one is on my iPad (backlit with big letters…yeah!), and one (the one I’m reading THIS year) is a beautiful limited-edition leatherbound volume with the 1915 illustrations from English illustrator Arthur Rackham.

No matter what the setting or context, this story continues to amaze and inspire me.  And next December (2025) THE ALLEY THEATRE will present the production of my script and music once more!

Now, unfortunately, I’m feeling a bit more like Scrooge this season, than I am Cratchit.  The grinding busy-ness of the season, being kind in the face of a few downright mean, or foolish, people, the aging of my body (which does NOT enjoy the cold), and who knows what kind of weather will be threatening our beautiful week of CHRISTMAS EVE and CHRISTMAS DAY at Central…bah! Humbug! And yet, no matter what kind of season I’m having, Dickens uses his words to reach into my heart and soul to communicate the best of all messages to the “child still hiding inside” this old shell of mine.

The great question of the story for me is how can Scrooge, with all the resources his world can offer, completely miss the SPIRIT of Christmas (while literally being surrounded by “the Spirits” of Christmas – while Tim Cratchit, sick, poor and facing a certain and early death, seems to not only understand, but “embodies” the “Spirit” – the “JOY”?   

And what is that “JOY of Christmas”?

In the story, maybe it’s easier to see what the “JOY of Christmas” is NOT.  When watching Scrooge, one realizes JOY does not come from wealth, or power.  Scrooge has an abundance of both and neither has given him JOY.  You can also see that “memories of Christmas”, though fond and perhaps filled with warmth, love and kindness, are more often a reminder that Christmastime now does not fulfill the memories of what it used to be.  For Scrooge, his past memories of Christmas only filled him with despair at all he had lost or cast aside.

So, what is “The JOY of Christmas”?  At its core, it is the knowledge that our Great God cared enough to love us, and connect to us, through such elaborate and sacrificial means as placing His own Son in this “God-forsaken” world. His Son then “put on our skin”, felt our pain, walked our path – so that we would see God for who He truly is, and trust Him, and follow Him.  We no longer need to fear the grave, we no longer are victims of our circumstance, we are no longer prisoners of our past, our present, or our future.

Tim Cratchit “embodies” that idea: Despite our circumstances, Christmas and its JOY transcends everything.  “Life” is not totally defined by this time and place but lives beyond this time and place. “Life” is not defined solely by heartbeat and breath.  And JOY is greater than the sum of our surroundings, our memories, and our hopes.  

What finally makes Scrooge happy, what fills him with a JOY that sets him dancing?  GIVING, not just his money, but his time, his presence, his heart.  Because Christmas JOY is “outside” of ourselves, we find the physical manifestation of that JOY is also outside of ourselves.

Isn’t that just like God?  We must GIVE to GAIN.  The percentages will always remain the same, in the Kingdom of God; the more JOY you give, the more JOY you receive, whether it’s smiles, time, talent, cash or love.

“I have come that you might have life…and have it more abundantly”! JOHN 10:10 

“God bless us, everyone.” TINY TIM

Ahhh, Christmas Parties; one of the best things about the season, and after a “year of drought” they are somewhat back!  Any excuse to get together with friends simply to…” get together”.  Alright, there’s the food and drink, and that’s nice too, but really, how often do we take the time simply to BE with our friends?  Not often enough, it seems.

I always look forward to a few get-togethers during the season; various hosts and various types of parties and dinners, and various “gigs”.  In each case, through the years, I was invited and accepted the invitation.  It was simple.  I didn’t have to fill out a form, join a club, recite an incantation, it was simply an invitation from a friend.  Some parties I’ve attended have been popular and sometimes people have worked hard at getting invitations.  Some parties have been quiet, improvised, and spontaneous, some elaborate and well-planned months in advance.  But in all cases the people who attended were asked by the host and accepted the invitation.  They were invited because the host wanted them there.  They were invited because they were family. They attended because they accepted the invitation.

The chaos and tension between denominations and between believers is often about the discussion as to who is a part of the Kingdom of God, and who, exactly, will “go to heaven”.  It is often a contentious debate which requires PERSON A to do what they are commanded NOT to do (according to the scripture), and that is to pronounce judgment about PERSON B’s heart and behavior.  It is, for some, the bottom-line discussion which separates the sacred from the profane.  If PERSON A feels that PERSON B doesn’t fulfill the requirements (as PERSON A sees it) it doesn’t matter how good and fine PERSON B is, they are obviously NOT “going to Heaven” so do not deserve the love of other self-identified Christians.

Now, I’m not talking about harmful and destructive behavior, I’m talking about theological differences, or people “seeing God from a different angle”.  I’m talking about people who read the same Bible but come to different conclusions than another.  To pass judgment on those types of things requires a knowledge that no human has: the ability to read hearts.  All of this requires an authority that is not given to humans: the authority to judge, which is God’s place alone.

And yet it is so simple.  Who is a part of the Kingdom?  Who will be allowed to walk on the streets of gold?  God’s friends, who are given the invitation and accept.  It requires one to be a friend of God, not necessarily a friend of yours or mine.  It requires one to accept the invitation, given by God, not necessarily given by you or me.

It does NOT require one to decide about attending, based on who else will be there.

There IS going to be a party.  WHO will be there?  Those who are friends of God, those who have been invited by God…those who have accepted the invitation.  This season, let us assume that ALL have been invited; sinners, seekers, and saints…and treat them accordingly.  

After all, there are probably some guests at “the party” who may be surprised to see that YOU are attending as well. 

My parents always said they knew I’d eventually work in the theatre.  They knew from the moment they got in the car with me after my first “theatre experience”, because I wouldn’t stop talking about it, and talking about it, and talking about it.

My Dad had been discharged from the Army and we were returning to Washington State, from Frankfurt Germany.  We had flown (via military plane) to New York, where we picked up our VW Beetle to drive across the country back to our home in Richland, Washington.  On the way, we stopped and saw family and friends. One family, Army friends who had also been recently discharged from Frankfurt, had moved back to Kansas City, where they were from and where we visited.  One magical night they took us to STARLIGHT THEATRE, a musical Amphitheatre, still active (since 1950).  It was there I saw my first ever theatre performance, it was a live presentation of THE CAROL BURNETT SHOW.  I was hooked.

That moment sealed my fate.  It was everything: lights, set, costumes, music, dancing, laughter.  And I talked and talked about it.  Dad built me a small theatre stage where I could design sets and set my “action figures” in various roles…he thought that would shut me up, it didn’t.  Any time I heard about a theatre event, anywhere, any time, I forced my parents to take me.  And I never stopped telling everyone about it.

I couldn’t help it.  That experience was life-changing, formative.  No one had to ask me about it, I would gladly start the conversation.  It drove my parents insane.

The tables were turned however, when I made my professional opera debut.  Opera was, to my parents, the ultimate art form, we listened and watched opera on TV all my life.  When I made my debut with Seattle Opera it was, for my folks, the same as if some other parent were to see their child pitch for the majors the first time.  And my parents couldn’t stop talking about it – it drove me insane.

When I think about that moment in Kansas City, it reminds me of the Bethlehem hills shepherds.  First, they saw the greatest show on earth: an angel choir and soloist – prepared and performing solely for THEM. Then they saw the “star” of the show, the Baby Himself.  The scripture says they couldn’t help but tell everyone about the event.  It was life-changing, it was formative.  No one had to ask them about it, they willingly volunteered the information because the experience filled them so much that the words poured out.

I’m a believer that one can’t “go and tell” unless they have “come and seen”.

I believe if God has truly changed you, if you have witnessed a miracle, if you have suddenly turned around and started going in the direction of life – you can’t help but talk about it.  Likewise, if you’re not talking about it, you’ve either never really experienced it, or have forgotten.

Experiences, like meeting Jesus for oneself and suddenly experiencing things through HIS eyes, ears, heart, and mind, are life-changing, formative and so fulfilling that one cannot help to pour out the words.  One cannot help but live gratefully because of the miracle that touches anyone who “comes and sees, goes and tells”.

LUKE 2:15-20
When the angels had left them and returned to heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go straight to Bethlehem and see what has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.”

They hurried off and found both Mary and Joseph, and the baby who was lying in the feeding trough.   After seeing them, they reported the message they were told about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.   But Mary was treasuring up all these things in her heart and meditating on them.   The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had seen and heard, just as they had been told.

MATTHEW 28:5-7 5
The angel told the women, “Don’t be afraid, because I know you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here. For he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples. ‘He has risen from the dead and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; you will see him there.’ Listen, I have told you.”

I have tried, this November, to intentionally state 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 we are almost to the end of the month, and I am astounded at what this “practice” has done 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 repetition) 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 isn’t true.  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 practicing ENTITLEMENT.

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 creed…one that I believe Jesus sings to me each day:

Every moment has its time.
Every person has their place.
Don’t brush aside either,
Or you may also brush aside
God’s wish for you to either ENJOY or BE a miracle.

Today, as I attempt to GIVE THANKS (as a child I always wondered why it wasn’t called, “GIVE THANKS-ING”) I realize how much of it can I really be thankful for.

“Give thanks in everything, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” I THESSALONIANS 5:13

I hear this quote often, from BELIEVERS & FOLLOWERS, and others.  It’s used when facing adversity and sadness, sometimes, mistakenly.   NOT because it isn’t right to thank God in all situations, but many people misinterpret what this scripture is saying and carry it beyond its meaning.

It’s almost the same as saying, “there’s a reason for everything”, which is also a little misleading.  Saying that “there’s a reason for everything” makes one think that there must be a “master plan” behind every horrible thing that happens to people…which is not quite accurate.  What is more accurate is, “God makes REASON out of chaos”, so “despite everything, God can turn the bad to good.” GOOD can come from BAD SITUATIONS, as we have all experienced.  When that happens, THAT is God working. 

Secondly, “giving thanks IN everything” is not the same as “giving thanks FOR everything.”  What Paul is saying here, in his letter back to the church at Thessalonica, is that DESPITE all the turmoil, poverty and evil that happens around us, and happens to us, we still have reason to give our thanks in all situations.  We have reason to “sit in the seat of GRATITUDE and not ENTITLEMENT “.  In other words, we live as if we know the end of the story…because we do. (“Everything will be alright in the end, if it’s not alright, it’s not the end.”)

The ”upcoming” Thanksgiving Week is always the week I pop in the “WHITE CHRISTMAS” movie, while decorating.  There’s a great Irving Berlin song in the film (he wrote all the music for the film) called, “Count Your Blessings”.  It has the line, “…when I can’t sleep, I count my blessings instead of sheep, and I fall asleep counting my blessings…”  What a great message.

For many, this holiday is joyous and a favorite of mine.  For many, the holidays bring the sad reminder that they don’t have family or friends, like they used to, to share the holidays with…some will not have a “feast”.  The best thing we can do is “give thanks” in and during all times, and all seasons, the good and the bad…because WE KNOW THE END OF THE STORY, when all things are set right.  And if times are bad, remember that God takes bad times and turns them to gold…” for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose.”  He makes “reason” out of the “unreasonable” and turns hunger to feasting.  He takes the orphan and adopts them into His own family.

These weeks, among many other things, I am thankful for your presence, your kind words, your friendship and your love.

…and so, the Republic of these United States of America is transitioning once again.  Whenever (and I should say wherever) I vote I always remember the first election that I took part in; the polls being located across the street from my dorm on campus.  It was a monumental moment for me, like driving by myself for the first time, or graduating…etc.

I thank God that I live in a country where I HAVE THE RIGHT to cast my ballot freely, where I can complain about the leaders…AND where I can write a letter to King Charles, apologizing for that “tea incident” and asking him to take us back (this is usually toward the end of a campaign year, when I can’t stand yet another political ad).

I know that some of you are elated, and some disappointed in the results of this year’s elections…and some are surprised.  But personalities, methods and political belief, aside, our responsibility as BELIEVERS & FOLLOWERS is primarily to THE KINGDOM OF GOD (where our first allegiance lies).  This country and “THIS PRESENT AGE” are both temporary – our Citizenship in the Kingdom is eternal.

I’m easy-going to a certain point, I don’t have much trouble with anything and tend to like everyone and see all sides of a situation…sometimes that’s not a good thing, but most of the time it’s a good trait to have.  I’m thankful my father (Tom Vale, who knew no stranger) left that trait to me.  In that light, maybe it’s easier for me to say, whoever sits in the Mayor’s Office, the Senate or House Chairs, or the Oval Office…I will always respect the office and wish them the best (after all, it’s only to MY benefit if they make wise and worthwhile choices).

Paul, in his letter to the Roman Church, says, “Everyone must submit to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except from God, and those that exist are instituted by God.” (13:1) …in fact, ROMANS 13:1-7 is a good bunch of verses to read whenever you think of our leaders and the church.

I’ve been in the Ministry/Leadership for over 40 years and I know how difficult “leadership” is…and how fickle it is.  Maybe for that reason there is something that I have done for every President and Mayor, newly-elected, since I’ve been involved in ministry…I write them a personal letter and promise to pray for them, and their families, regularly.  I don’t agree or disagree with their reasoning or political beliefs, for me, that’s beside the point…and, ultimately, doesn’t matter to me since this isn’t really my “home”.  I only promise to lift them up in prayer on a regular basis.  Just a note; for all those letters, there are only a handful of leaders (representing both parties) who have written me back…I’m not politically minded, but I’ve NEVER forgotten which leaders took the time to respond.

As BELIEVERS & FOLLOWERS we have the responsibility to “honor those to whom honor is due” and to “respect those to whom we owe respect” …AND as free Americans we have the duty to let our leaders know what we think, how else can they lead?

And here are some points to consider, for all of us this post-election day.

FOR THOSE WHO VOTED FOR THE WINNING CANDIDATE:
The scripture is clear; pray, pray, pray for your leaders.  (I TIMOTHY 2:1-4) If you pray that God’s voice will be heard in their hearts, that they will be surrounded by wise counsel, that they will ALWAYS act according to what they believe is in the best interest of this land and not by selfish motive, and pray that their families will be safe and secure…that is the best gift that you can give.  When a leader makes a choice that you wouldn’t necessarily choose, trust God to be great enough to listen to YOUR prayer and answer YOUR prayer for the Leader-in-question and know that God holds this country, as all countries, in His hand and will answer if called upon. 

FOR THOSE WHO DIDN’T VOTE FOR THE WINNING CANDIDATE:
The scripture is clear; pray, pray, pray for your leaders.  (I TIMOTHY 2:1-4) If you pray that God’s voice will be heard in their hearts, that they will be surrounded by wise counsel, that they will ALWAYS act according to what they believe is in the best interest of this land and not by selfish motive, and pray that their families will be safe and secure…that is the best gift that you can give.  When a leader makes a choice that you wouldn’t necessarily choose, trust God to be great enough to listen to YOUR prayer and answer YOUR prayer for the Leader-in-question and know that God holds this country, as all countries, in His hand and will answer if called upon. 

FOR THOSE WHO WEREN’T SOLD ON EITHER CANDIDATE:
The scripture is clear; pray, pray, pray for your leaders.  (I TIMOTHY 2:1-4) If you pray that God’s voice will be heard in their hearts, that they will be surrounded by wise counsel, that they will ALWAYS act according to what they believe is in the best interest of this land and not by selfish motive, and pray that their families will be safe and secure…that is the best gift that you can give.  When a leader makes a choice that you wouldn’t necessarily choose, trust God to be great enough to listen to YOUR prayer and answer YOUR prayer for the Leader-in-question and know that God holds this country, as all countries, in His hand and will answer if called upon.

Again, I thank God for a place where we can choose our leaders…and come January, I’ll be sending a letter out to our new leaders…and a short while later, I may be sending another letter to King Charles.

God bless you all; citizens of the Kingdom of God, temporarily sojourning in this place and time.

Among my many experiences were four summers during my college and seminary years in which I served as a summer youth minister. Each summer was spent in a different congregation, three summers in North Carolina and one summer in West Virginia. It was a good thing that I had four short, ten-week summers as youth minister to deal with my naiveness about the nature of ministry and the humanity of church people! Whew! What a learning curve!

Picture this! The H is a brand-new fellowship building with a modern kitchen. The — is the church cemetery, and the C is the Church building with the sanctuary and Sunday School rooms.

H —- C

The girls, perhaps 25 or 30 of them, were having an all-night party at H, the new fellowship Hall. Twas a warm June night…

About midnight several boys—under my guidance—and very quietly…went into the cemetery with several candles. Using a lit candle, we “boys” softened the bottom of several unlit candles and put them on top of several tombstones. The softened candles quickly stuck and stayed upright on the cold marble gravestones. A couple of the boys stayed in the cemetery while me and several others quietly opened the sanctuary windows in the church (C) . Then I turned on the church PA system on full volume. One boy sneaked out to the cemetery to tell the two guys there to light the candles. My partners in crime…some of the boys…made ghost sounds in the microphone at the pulpit, and those loud, screeching sounds floated out the open sanctuary windows and over the cemetery….and through the few open windows in the fellowship House (H), the girls heard the creepy sounds and looked out the windows…and saw a number of candles burning atop of several graves.

O, my! The blood-curling screams that emerged from the clueless girls….!

My only saving grace in this whole experience is that I had the foresight to tip off one of the female chaperones who was with the girls that ghostly evening. But I did not expect that it would take her several minutes to get the girls’ attention and calm them down.

As you might expect, eventually several of the girls came out and walked through the cemetery. One girl, both laughing and yet crying, pointed to a gravestone with a burning candle and exclaimed, “That’s my grandparents’ graves!” And she remembered them! Right then and there I knew that I should have paid attention to the dates on the tombstones and used only those gravestones of persons whom those girls would not have actually known and remembered.

Believe me! The next Sunday the news of the “ghostly night” was well circulated, and many adults seemed to enjoy the boldness of the prank. Very, very nervously I apologized to the family of the girl whose grandparents’ graves were “lit up.” I was lucky…they laughed and said that those grandparents had a sense of humor…but I was under no illusion….it could have been a quick end to any hopes that I had of becoming a minister someday!

This being the time of the year in which the Church recognizes ALL SAINTS DAY (November 1st) or ALL SAINTS SUNDAY (the Sunday closest to Nov. 1st), I thought of the prank that I described above, and once again I felt the relief that this girl’s family was so gracious and remembered the sense of humor of their loved ones. Or perhaps they meant that their loved ones were looking down from above with humor at the seriousness we attach to death when the life yet to be (zoe) is far beyond whatever we can imagine.

And I recall the story of Jesus who raised Lazarus from the dead. And Lazarus’

reaction as he arose from the dead? I have to believe that Lazarus laughed. He did not laugh at the absurdity of death. No Way! Lazarus laughed because he had been to the “other side” and as laughing because he once feared death, but had no reason to do so!

God’s gift of life (zoe) is incredible! All Saints Day? Well, it is not a day about our loss of a dear one, it is a day of celebrating God’s gift of life (zoe) to our loved ones! Amen!

Some time ago I stood at the grave of a friend at Anderson Memorial Park, close to I-69.  It was a brisk, early fall, day; clear, sunny, a bit chilly and beautiful.  At the end of my prayer for the family, I looked over the heads of those there to the tops of the trees in the park.  They were already starting to change color.  Just the tops, as if a giant paint brush had just barely swept over the trees in that area.  I remembered then I was told, for some reason, the trees in Memorial Park often turn first.  No one is sure why.  Maybe it’s the cool breeze that seems to be present there, maybe it’s the type of trees that grow there.  For whatever reason, there it was: an orange-topped tree reminding me, as I listened to the bugle and stood in a cemetery, that it is often through stress, cold, “change of season”, and yes – death, that our true colors are revealed.

In winter, it takes a lot of energy for a tree to keep leaves green (making chlorophyll) AND on the tree.  Lack of sunshine and water during the cold months prods the tree to “make some choices” about what to keep and what to let go.  As the green pigment dissipates, other colors are suddenly revealed, before the leaf drops of completely…some say these are the tree’s TRUE COLORS. 

I’ll speak only for myself now.  I believe that we, like trees, are going to show our “true colors” when our seasons change, when stress/winter comes, when the things that have supported our life are suddenly, or little-by-little, gone – we become who we truly are.

There, in Memorial Park, it was easy to compare a life that had been housed in a fragile body to that of a tree that had been green all summer – but now, with the passing of body that LIFE was its real self because the body had died. 

I’m thinking about what I learn and teach as an Advocate for God.  The Spirit, the words of Jesus, and the example of those wise men and women who have taught and written over the centuries are all saying, “to gain your life, you must lose it” and “to find yourself, you must die to self”.  These are difficult lessons to understand, much less practice – but I think they are necessary.  I believe there is so much of us that has been put on us since birth in this world, and so much struggle to maintain the shell of our bodies which surround our souls, that it is difficult for us to see what our Father originally designed us to be; our “true colors”. 

Jesus talks a lot about “giving up” to “gain”.  But what a person “gives up” isn’t theirs to begin with, and when Jesus compares our lives (and His) to a seed that must die in the ground to become a tree – isn’t that the entire purpose of the seed?  Isn’t it our purpose to be the essence of who we are designed to be, and not all the insecurities, influences, self-motivated injuries, and world expectations we seem to collect and cover ourselves with?

What is MY “chlorophyll”?  It is my ego.  Ego isn’t always bad, it’s just not truly who I am…it is self-identity (which is false), a paradigm built up by what I’ve experienced (which is inaccurate) and a persona built by the voices of those around me and THEIR expectations of me (which is deceptive).  If I could get rid of all that, would my “true colors” – the colors I was painted when created – be revealed?

I think the answer is, “yes”.  We see it whenever a friend is at the “end of their rope”.  Suddenly some things just don’t matter anymore.  I see it on sick beds, I see it when someone has experienced a sudden and tragic loss.  I see it when everything is lost: house, home, finances, love…it seems that when stress (cold) and lack of vision (sunshine) are combined with a new chapter of life (season) a person’s TRUE COLORS are revealed.  Sometimes the colors aren’t so pretty.  Sometimes they are – it’s what we call “character”.

How then do I live?  I’ve found that each week and day I should assess what I cling to.  Is it a “thing” (souvenirs and knick-knacks that hold memories), a “belief” (a philosophy or teaching that may not be exactly true or healthy – OR WORSE, something that keeps me from re-examining what I believe is true), a “person” (I need all the friends I can get, and I want to be able to act-in-love to everyone – but to surround myself with, and listen to, certain people is like taking poison a little at a time – you know it’s true)?  Next, I remind myself that my worth is only defined by the fact that God loves me and calls me by name.

Yes, I have work to do.  Yes, I have things I probably need to hold on to – but these are the things, beliefs, and persons that help me let go; the outside influences that encourage me to be the original, immortal being God first imagined and designed

I don’t know exactly who that person is right now, but I’m learning.  The reason I assess and practice all this NOW is because I’d rather not wait until I come to the end of my rope to let go.  I’d rather not be hit with the cold wind and lack of sun that reveal my true colors.

As you can tell, I was a philosophy minor in college.  But I truly believe that most of what we do for Jesus is “peel back” and “uncover” and “let go”.  I believe our true selves, like the autumn colors in Anderson, start at the top, at the head and heart, and gradually reveal themselves throughout our entire beings – when we “die to self.” 

Maybe the trees in Memorial Park turn first because in that place God wants to remind us something.  My friend, whose grave I stood beside as I listened to “Taps”, is in that forever home now.  He is seeing what, I like to believe, is the New Earth as it was originally designed and created.  And maybe it’s just me, but I think the trees in there are gold, orange and red…I think he sees that place as Eternal Autumn…

…because I believe everything, and everyone shows their true colors there.