Behind the Scenes

 "But one thing I do:  Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead. I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 3:13b-14)

"May the Lord show mercy to the household of Onesiphorus, because he often refreshed me and was not ashamed of my chains. On the contrary, when he was in Rome, he searched hard for me until he found me...You know very well in how many ways he helped me in Ephesus." (2 Timothy 1:15)

I have been watching a little of the Olympics in Tokyo the last few days. I have been especially interested in the back stories of many of the athletes. Some from notable universities with major sport complexes. Others from unheard of cities who practiced in ponds, back roads, barns, and anywhere that would improve their skills. But they all had one thing in common: support. Mom's and dad's willing to sacrifice. Siblings willing to be second. Highschool gym teachers that pushed and college coaches that saw "something" in a person. Fellow athletes willing to share moments, struggles, advice, or simply, companionship on this short journey. These athletes did not get there on their own. 

I was reminded of a few things this week. First, I was reminded of the privilege that I had to pray for our youngest daughter's commencement service at Western Michigan University. I prayed and gave thanks for all the sacrifice that parents and siblings made so that that student could attend university and perhaps have a better life. Hopefully, paying it forward. They didn't do it alone. 

I thought of a phone call with a brother in Christ Sunday afternoon who reminded me that although a previous ministry that I was involved in was incredibly difficult most of the time, that God, in His grace and mercy, provided deep and abiding friendships to sustain us and get us through that time. So true. We didn't do it alone. 

I thought about this as the Olympic commentators were interviewing family members here back in the states at three o'clock in the morning. Very little sleep because of the time change. Wow. 

Still supporting. Still sacrificing. Still Covid restricted. Yet never alone. 

I was reminded of the words of the Apostle Paul to the Romans when he said, "None of us lives to himself alone and none of us dies to himself alone." (Romans 14:7) We need each other and we ultimately belong to the Lord. 

None of us find success alone. 

Mother Nature

 "Cursed is the ground because of you, through painful toil you will eat of it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you and you will eat the plants of the field." (Genesis 3:17b-18)

Deb was in Florida with the youngest daughter and grandkids this last week. Which meant I was getting some honey-do projects accomplished in her absence. 

When we first bought our house last November, I couldn't really tell if the siding was white, black, or green. Original color. Mold. Mildew. The neighbor's vinyl fence on the north that separated our property was the same mystery. 

We were blessed to have new windows put in last week so the time had arrived to give the house and driveway a nice pressurized bath - a 2000 psi washing. The unveiling. Just what is under all that grime?

As I washed I was thinking about how the curse affects me constantly. Every week I am mowing grass, trimming branches, killing ants, chasing destructive gofers, pulling down invasive vines, spraying weeds that are coming up in my new rock landscaping, killing ants (did I say that already),etc. I am on the look out for branches that have grown to the point of poking my eyes out and for whatever dead or poisonous plants have found a home on my property. 

My neighbor, Ron, who knows all things neighbory, was watching me do all things to battle the curse and he said, "Imagine if we just let things go for five or ten years. Mother Nature will always have her way." 

Mother Nature. Not sure where that term came from but it's not endearing. We hardly ever speak of her except when there is some sort of environmental calamity. Don't mess with Mother Nature. She represents the brokenness of our world, not the old lady with a plant growing out of her hat and all the wild animals cheerfully playing together and feeding in her backyard. 

Truth be told. Those critters have eaten all of her flowers, destroyed her garden, and are eating each other in a evolutionary feeding frenzy. 

I thought about this. My little house would be solid green or black. Trees would completely cover my roof and vines would creep into every crevice that could be found. Weeds would completely take over any rock surface, driveway, and even roads. 

All we have to do is look at societies that died out, where no human life pushed back against the tide of broken creation, to see how nature will take back what we have stolen from her. I would be living in an ancient Incan city where people from the future would come and discover the long lost city of Logansport. 

But then I reread Genesis 1-3. The curse was connected to the sweat and fight it would take to do what actually we were created to do. In reality, Adam was created with "Gardner," "Caretaker," as his job description - pre-Fall. Pruning and mowing the grass by moving goats around, transplanting flowers, cultivating the soil so nutrients could get down to the roots - all of this was a joy. 

Even today when you see a well-landscaped home or golf-course, when you see a well tended park or even cemetery, you see more than a person pushing back at the curse but an affirmation that man was created to care, to beautify, to appreciate, to create as well. 

All I know is that I have a internal satisfaction at the effort put into mowing the yard and pressure washing the house, and seeing my roses bloom in clean landscaping, and getting black soot off of my driveway. 

Doing what I've been created to do or at least until I get too old and have to pay the neighbor kids to do it. Until then, my fight against Mother Nature and black ants continues. 

Center of the Road

 "Let your eyes look straight ahead, fix your gaze directly before you. Make level paths for your feet, and take only ways that are firm. Do not swerve to the right or the left; keep your foot from evil." (Proverbs 4:25-27)

In reading the Gospels, I am reassured when I see Jesus saying "no" to what, on the outside, looks like a great ministry plan. 

"Jesus, there are a lot of people already showing up to see you today. It's going to be a great day." 

"No, we are leaving and going to another village."

"What?" 

"Disciples, we are going to head back home to Galilee. Let's go." 

"Ummm....aren't we going the wrong way? No Jew goes through Samaria."  

"No. We go through Samaria." 

"If we go to Jerusalem they will kill you. We can't go. Let's stay up here in our own stomping grounds." 

"No. We must go to Jerusalem." 

Paraphrasing of course, but true accounts of Jesus and his earthly journey. He always seemed to be focused on what was needed to accomplish his mission and what was not . He didn't turn to the right or to the left. Center of the road. No blurred vision. 

I recently said "yes" to being on a local community board. I was privileged to be asked, especially since I am so new to the community. And...it seemed to fall in line, at least on appearance, with what my mission is. 

Within a week -trouble. Employee trouble. But as I received further documents I began to see clearly that the organization itself was in trouble. Mission creep. That which it started out to be and for which it was named is no longer the focus of the organization. The tail is wagging the dog. The dog is tired of being wagged. Have you ever seen some of those dogs with stubby tails, tails that were cut off as pups? Inference. 

My initial thought was to immediately resign since it had only been a month since I was admitted. No harm. No foul. I didn't sign up for this. I am an unpaid volunteer who simply wanted to devote some time to make a difference in the community in which I live. What should I do? A feel like a ditch is in my future if the car doesn't correct itself. 

But...I am beginning to see a divine purpose in the tumult. A board member possibly returning to the church that I currently serve - a place he grew up but has since left. The ability to use my peace-making skills and conflict management skills. The opportunity to do something significant with other community leaders, to right something that has gone left, to renew a ministry that is still desperately needed. The privilege of carrying with me the presence of Jesus to employees who need the saving grace of God. 

I was reminded that we want life to be easy but its not - or shouldn't be. Our greatest strength in times of trial is recognizing our weakness - our inability to manage the circumstance, to change an organization, to change a person, to change oneself. Reflection. 

"But Jesus, its easier to go around." 

"No. Through Samaria we go."

Center of the road. 

A divine opportunity. Pray. 

My Badge

"At that time many will turn away from the faith and will betray and hate each other." (Mt. 24:10)

"Because of the increase in wickedness, the love of most will grow cold, but he who stands firm until the end will be saved." (Mt. 24:12-13)

Reinhard Heydrich. Who? Not a household name. But if you're Jewish, it might be. Reinhard Heydrich was Adolf Hitler's head of the Reich Main Security Office. With the SS (Hitler's security force), Reinhard and Heinrich Himmler were tasked with "taking care of" any enemies inside and outside of Germany's borders. 

Early on, Heydrich had proposed having a visible sign that identified threats to the Fatherland. It would entail an armband or perhaps a badge worn on the clothing. Hitler, at first, rejected the idea believing that it would cause an adverse reaction from other countries he was trying to coerce. But on September 1st, 1940, per the Nuremberg Race Laws of 1935, the Jewish Yellow Badge was implemented. A badge of ostracism. A badge of segregation. A badge of control. A badge of selected extermination. One month later the extermination camps were opened. The yellow sun fighting against the black spider. 

Spanish-American philosopher, George Santayana, wrote (30+ years earlier), "Those who cannot remember the past are destined to repeat it." I guess we have had a lapse of memory. 

In my 58 years of life, I have never felt like I was on the verge of being singled out by my government as an enemy of the state like I do now. You see - I am a non-vaccer. I am not only not vaccinated but I don't plan on being vaccinated. 

It doesn't matter that I have had Covid and am probably more protected than those who have taken the shots. It's not about my health. It's about forced conformity that goes against my convictions. I just read where the present administration is considering sending health department officials door to door to "persuade" me. I will be researched and ready for a convincing rebuttal. 

I don't care one way or the other if you get the shots. If it keeps people who are at high risk from dying - I say, "Amen. Thank you, Lord." If you are not at high risk and just feel more at peace through the vaccine I say, "Amen. Thank you, Lord." I just want the freedom to make that decision without guilt and coercion, especially from my government. It is unconstitutional. Simply said. 

But here is what concerns me more. I know of churches out West who are refusing to admit anyone into their worship who is not vaccinated. You have to show them your "card." Really. I say, "Good." Go find a church where Jesus is actually worshipped and where the Holy Spirit is moving. 

A Washington State Senator showed up for a vaccine mandate discussion wearing a yellow star on his left chest - the same place where the Nazis demanded the Jews wear their symbol. He was, of course, chastised and humiliated. 

How dare we compare the compulsory injection of chemicals into people who don't want it in their bodies to what the Nazi's did! This is about social safety. Sorry. That's how Joseph Goebbels (Hitler's Director of Propaganda) starting speaking about the Jews as well. They are the reason we are suffering. They are the reason we have nothing. They are the reason for our bad economy. They are the reason for the sickness and disease among us. They are the reason for all of the ills of the world. 

Within thirty days people - good neighbors at one time, beloved coworkers and fellow businessmen - were turning people over to the secret police to be arrested and murdered. This is still a very common anti-Semitic accusation and action today in many places around the world. 

I am afraid that a day is coming when neighbors will turn on neighbors, family on family, coworkers on coworkers, church members on church members. The love of most will grow cold. The worship of social issues will surpass the worship of Jesus. 

I am afraid we are already there. 

But perhaps there is still hope. As brothers and sisters, let love win out over the threat of sickness, over the threat of disagreement on government involvement. 

Many pastors and parishioners in Ireland and England did not run away or shy away from those who were dying of cholera and dysentery during the 1832 outbreak. They stayed. They prayed. They loved. They cooked. They buried the dead. They decided that nothing but the love of Jesus for each other will do. Even when they began to succumb themselves - they served. 

I think about that type of attitude at times like these. Something selfless. Something noble. Non-accusative. Navigating the haves and have nots, the sick and the well, the vaccinated and non-vaccinated. Not distracted. Not deterred. Loving as Jesus loves. Standing firm until the end. 

Let this be my badge. 

A Holy Kiss

 "Greet all the brothers with a holy kiss." (1st Thessalonians 5:26)

I often wonder about the origins of things. Take for example, kissing. In my cursory research, I found that some social anthropologists believe that kissing actually began between a mother and infant child. It was not about emotions but survival. The mother would chew up food and then push it to her lips, kiss the baby, and push some of the food into its mouth - much like a mother bird would do to its baby in the nest. 

Another theory was that ancient men and women would kiss and taste each others saliva to see if they would be compatible mates. I have slight autism [my daughters diagnosed me] so this is making me a little sick to my stomach just describing this stuff. 

In today's environment there are too many factors that would skew the data - Scope, Tick Tacs, Gum, coffee, bad dental care, etc... I would like to interject at this point that when two people kiss they pass, on average, 80 million micro levels of bacteria. 

It is also interesting to note that Living Science has demonstrated that men and women do unconsciously pick up on taste and smell of potential mates that, subsequently, have proven to strengthen the immune system of potential and subsequent generations produced by the other activities incited by that kiss. In other words, something about kissing helps keep the human race alive and literally, well. 

The earliest written texts about kissing are found in Sanskrit and in the Indus Valley in India. They are texts about a simple form of intimate passion between family members, friends, and lovers. Another interesting thing to note is that the vast amount of kissing being done is not linked to romance but greetings and friendship. It is presumed to have been taken up by the Greeks and Romans and by the West, in general, as a form of greeting but also in the more intimate contexts. 

Not to be outdone, the Church itself took up the practice. In Latin it is called osculum pacis - "the kiss of peace." The Roman Catholic Church changed the name at some point so that it is called, "the sign of peace." I find it interesting that we have adopted something that was the last act of betrayal by Judas Iscariot at the arrest of Jesus in the Garden. "Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?" (Luke 22:47) "Yes, yes I am." 

My first kiss on the lips was not memorable, well, it was...it was by my Aunt Norma at a wedding reception. She came in from a side attack and I couldn't do anything but tighten up and wait for the post arm sleeve wipe. Yuck! I quickly formulated a plan with frontal attack family members. Act like your coming in for the kill and at that last minute turn your head. I honed this skill while saying goodbye to Deb's grandma. I call it my "evasion kiss." Slightly to the side. No lips. All cheek. Still creepy but less offensive than almost throwing up or running away screaming, "I'd rather die!" 

Unfortunately, my like-minded granddaughter for some reason decided she needed to plant one on me. I laughed in panic as this insistent kindergartner tried to kill me. Head moving side to side like a grandpa bobble head on a bumpy road. Trying to avoid the torture of the moment, Gloria Gaynor's song kept running through my head, "I Will Survive." 

Not too many churches that I am affiliated with do the "kiss" greeting anymore. We shake hands. We hug. We tell each other, "You are loved." It is family after all. 

In all seriousness, I write today to remember a brother in Christ who died of Covid last week. He was a beloved friend and colaborer in worship. He loved children like no other and sought to bring them into the kingdom of God. He was an old rock-n-roller who was radically saved and spent his life trying to serve Jesus. Our loss is God's gain. 

I still miss every Sunday morning that I would see him at the front of the sanctuary. Without fail, His 6' 6'' tall frame always bending down a little and my 5' 11'' frame  always tippy-toeing up to him. A bear hug greeting from my brother, Rob. Our kiss of peace in a manly way. "Yous (not a type-o) are loved." Many a Sunday morning that was so desperately needed. Right back at you my, friend, my brother in Jesus. Finally home. Receiving the best kiss of all - the warm embrace of his Savior. I'll miss that on this side of heaven but look forward to it when I arrive. 

Sigh. 

Now back to those germs and years of therapy because of Norma...

Cherries

 "Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable then they?" (Matthew 6:25-26)

My neighbor, Ron, who knows all things neighborhoody, gave me the low down on my newly acquired house when I moved to Logansport. He told me when trash comes, when recycling comes, where to put my brush, where to buy the best compost bags. He told me about ants and bees and deer and rabbits. He gave me the history of almost every neighbor on the street and contractor who built their homes. Who has basements and who does not. 

He told me that the lady that owed the house prior to us was a lover of plants and trees. She just wasn't particular about where she planted them nor was she good at taking care of them. I'll cut her some slack. She was in her 90's. The place looks beautiful in the Spring. Sort of an eclectic menagerie of color in unexpected places but with re-rod stakes and steel hanging pot supports now firmly grown into the living décor. Irretractable. 

"Who in their right mind would plant cherry trees on both sides to the entrance of a driveway?" Ron said in utter arbor unbelief. "Now if I were you, I would cut some of those low hanging branches extending over the driveway and then lift up that canopy a bit. Remember that they come and pick up the brush every other week or so. And...well...don't worry about the cherries. We usually get a good freeze in the spring that kills the blossoms." 

Ron...you're a liar. The trees were filled with cherries this year. It looks like we go out in the night and butcher small animals in the front of our house. Red squished cherry juice all over the place. 

I was out front on the little porch we have one morning, enjoying the early sunshine and warmth, reading the Scriptures, glancing once in a while up toward the crime scene when I began to see the most beautiful cardinals, blue jays, robins, and other assorted fowl landing in my driveway and enjoying the free fruit. Before you know it one, two, then three, playful rabbits found their way out to the feast and enjoyed. I could have sworn that they were having a pit spitting contest but more of my imagination than truth. 

I smiled. I was still. I remembered. 

I remembered that my life is not to be full of worry or stress. I remembered that God loves the birds and the rabbits. He loves them so much that he had an elderly lady plant dirty, messy, cherry trees at the entrance to a driveway so that in spite of the red-stained concrete, His creation would have something to eat. 

I remembered that He loves and cares for me too. I wondered what mess He has provided for me. 

I smiled. I was still. The rabbit sure did taste good grilled.

The Mountain

 
"Peter said to Jesus, 'Rabbi, it is good for us to be here." Mark 9:5

I have been blog absent for the last couple of weeks because of some vacation time. Read a couple of good books in the quiet moments of the day when I wasn't conscripted to be the extra weight needed to go down the larger water slides with the grandkids. Ten flights of stairs with an innertube. Not sure how long I will be able to do that but thankful for the current ability (especially post-Covid lungs). 

Vacations are like little excursions. You head off to someplace different to "get away" and yet bring most of your stuff with you. Humorous. 

One of the things that cause me a bit of stress but at the same time brings me great joy is putting an address in the GPS (Global Positioning System) and taking off trusting that the thing is correct (which, on occasion, is not). So down a different Tennessee road we go. Nicely paved. Winding. Hmmm...who would have thought that Eastern Tennessee University would be out here. Mountains. Streams. And out in the middle of nowhere...shops. Artisans. Potters. Photo galleries. Jewelers. Woodworkers. Herbalists. Tanners. A pleasant day of adventure. Hoping to find some good fudge or hard dip ice cream. 

I am a homebody by nature. I like "stay vacations." I have to force myself to get out of "Dodge" as they say. But when I do, I am reminded of the beauty of  this country and for the most part, of its people. I can't help to think that each new location, each verbal connection with a stranger, is a foreshadowing of heaven in some way. 

As I read the account of the Transfiguration of Christ in the Gospel of Mark I was captured by the statement that Peter made: "It is good for us to be here." I think the text bears witness that it was a bit of nervous energy on his part. He had to say something. He had to acknowledge the unique adventure in some way. And what an adventure it was. 

Jesus took his elite triplets up the mountain: James, John, and Peter. And the Bible tells us that Jesus was transformed before their eyes. His clothes became whiter than any white known to man. His countenance - radiant. And if that was not enough, two other guests, who apparently did not need introduction, showed up for the party: Moses and Elijah. Divine knowledge of a couple of guys who had been dead for over a thousand years. 

I am getting old. My thoughts and values are changing. I long for the eternal, the whole, the next. Moses. Elijah. Not in a morbid way but rather, to see the divine now. To see it in the hills of Tennessee, but also in the traffic jam around Cincinnati. To see it in the stranger at the leather shop making me a handcrafted belt with a cross button affixed as well as in the laughter and screaming of my grandkids as we fly down an enclosed death tube of fast flowing water hoping not to drown. To see Jesus. 

It is good to be here.