Boo!

 "Amid disquieting dreams in the night when deep sleep falls on men, fear and trembling seized me and made all my bones shake. A spirit glided past my face, and the hair on my body stood on end. It stopped, but I could not tell what it was. A form stood before my eyes, and I heard a hushed voice:  'Can a mortal be more righteous than God? Can a man be more pure than his Maker? If God places not trust in his servants, if he charges his angels with error, how much more those who live in houses of clay, whose foundations are in the dust, who are crushed more readily than a moth!'" (Job 4:13-21)

Okay. I began reading this and expected, "Boo!" 

As a child I grew up reading "Ripley's Believe It or Not - Ghost Stories." (See June 3rd posting). I also grew up with the movies Halloween, Halloween II, Halloween III, the Exorcist, Rosemary's Baby, all kinds of B-horror movies at the Drive-in Theater that my older cousin snuck me into in the trunk of his car - I mean legitimately paid for (no worries - I ate my movie ticket price in over priced hot dogs and pop/soda). And then...the last movie of this genre watched...The Shining with Jack Nicholson. No blood and guts...just shear terror. As it would happen, I had a beautiful alpine luncheon at the top of Mount Hood in Oregon (Timberline Lodge) where they filmed some of this. Quite delightful. Except for those darn twins that kept showing up in the hallway. (Inside fright). 

I say this so that reader knows that I am well-versed and an expert in all things scary. Actually, I stopped watching this stuff when I entered into ministry. I found that the real stuff was much more frightening than any Hollywood director could come up with. 

As "All Hollows Eve" or "All Saints Eve" or "Allhallowtide" approaches I thought I would ejukate those of you who haven't researched this. Scholars are torn between two origins: Celtic or Christian. 

In the Celtic tradition, this day was thought to be the time when the space between this world and the nether world was at its thinnest - where the spirits of the departed could easily cross over for a brief time. The idea of wearing a costume was so that the spirits would not recognize you and take vengeance against you. And...so that you could get free food from your neighbor to appease the "spirits." Bobbing for apples, roasting nuts, etc...were part of the fun. Except that they were intended as divination objects. So sorry for ruining that for everyone. Drench those apples in some caramel and nuts and it will be sanctified as God-honoring. Just say a prayer over it first. 

In the Christian tradition, "All Saints Eve" can be traced to the 8th century under the rule of Pope Gregory III. Most scholars believe that it was a Christianization of pagan tradition (like several of our traditions, e.g. Christmas trees, Mistletoe, decorations, etc...) Instead of inviting the spirits of the dead, the tradition changed into a remembrance of the dead, especially those martyred for their faith. Light a candle. Say a prayer. Go eat some soul cakes with little crosses painted on them. 

Most Protestants reject those religious traditions as unbiblical. But there is no denying the spirit realm and the respect one needs to have for it. As I read through Job this week, I was reminded once again that the scariest thing in this world is not a spirit that might show up in my dreams or...in my bedroom, but to stand before a righteous God with my unworthy works. 

Boo!

Something in the middle

"I'm torn between two desires:  I long to go and be with Christ, which would be far better for me.  But for your sakes, it is better that I continue to live." (Philip. 1:23-24) 

Life is always full of choices. When you say, "yes" to something it often means having to say, "no" to another. When you say, "yes," to something if often means having to stop something else. But there is always something in the middle. There is that awkward or often stressful time of the in between. 

Trying to keep myself positive I began thinking of things in the middle. The white creamy part between an Oreo or a Whoopie Pie or a Twinkie. The marshmallow and chocolate between two graham crackers in a S'more. Two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun - a.k.a. - yes, I know your singing it now - the theme song for my favorite show - the Big Mac. I can't believe I still remembered that. I haven't had a Big Mac in years. 

If you think about it there are numerous opportunities to celebrate that which is in the middle. 

I don't know the future of my life but if I should live to 120, I'm just shy of the middle. My life is in transition. I'm still pastoring a church in Bernville but hired to pastor a church in Indiana. It's a bit taxing. Not to mention having to pack up the house at present. Longing to go but needing to stay focused for the  good of the flock. Longing to savor the deep relationships made here but longing to start something new. 

You can almost hear that same sentiment in the voice of the Apostle Paul. Tired of the prison cells, the beatings, the travel, the cold - how he longed to go home to be with Jesus. Yet, here he writes to his crown, his joy, his motivation for getting that stiff body around every morning to go out and do it again - to share the good news of Jesus, to see people saved from hell and to a vibrant life with God. Just one more, Lord. Just one more. Yet, I'm torn between the two. Perhaps Paul felt like he was a bit in the middle. 

At the time of this writing we have 5 baptisms coming up this Sunday and a potential to bring in 9 new members. It brings us such great joy to think that God would allow us to have some sort of eternal impact on the lives of the people that we serve. It brings us great joy to know that God is adding to the church not because we were there (perhaps that was the initial reason) but because God is doing something supernatural at St. Thomas. 

All I know is that sometimes it good to get to the middle. 

A Master Piece

"One thing I ask of the Lord, this only do I seek, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek Him in His temple." Psalm 27:4

This past weekend was our second twelve hour trip to Indiana within a month. Grueling - even for a young and vibrant man like myself. But it wasn't long before Deb and I were sighing a bit as we drove through the Pennsylvania scenery. We will miss the mountains -although our new home sits on a hill. Well...our backyard slopes. But we will really miss the Turnpike and State College views that we've grown to anticipate over the last few years of our travels. 

There is nothing more breathtaking than to view the fall colors of the mountain sides and the valleys. Stunning. I'm a fall color guy by natural palate so I enjoyed the burnt oranges, reds, fading greens, and umbers. If you aren't familiar with the color "umber," its similar to ochre and sienna. (I know your laughing right now in your color palate ignorance). Paint section. Home Depot. Widen your horizon. Plus they make really great book marks. 

I'm so glad that God is not boring. I'm so glad He loves diversity. I'm glad He loves color. 

I once asked one of my students in a "Studies in Genesis" class, "Why did God create color?" (Gen. 1:30, "every green plant). It's a speculative question at best but it was designed to help us understand that God is not simply pragmatic but an artist.(Yes, I do understand chlorophyll and sunlight and photosyth...photosin...photocopying).  

He could have created things like our old 1960's television set: black, white, and shades of grey. It functioned. We could use our imagination. But the thing is, our imagination can only be based on some sense of reality (Dr. Seuss excluded). I can imaging a blue suit and brown shoes because I have seen blue and brown. God has given me a color palate to work with. He could have also created with such beauty and yet made man blind or fully color-blind. But with healthy human eyes He graces us with the beauty of this world. It is nothing more than a gift to bring us joy. It has very little, if any, practical use. You might be saying, "Well, what about stop lights?" Answer: Stop signs. And it wouldn't matter if it was red, turquoise, mauve, or...umber. It's the word, "stop" that gives it away. We would just have to be patient as we go one at a time or thankfulness for the traffic officer. 

Now, if this fallen world is filled with such beauty, how much more will heaven be? It will be the perfect place of enjoyment reflecting the beauty of the Lord. Can you imagine? Only in similes. As the Apostle John tells us in Revelation, "It's like..." And the psalm tells us that we will "gaze." Isn't that a lovely word? God is so beautiful that we can't take our eyes off of Him. Wow!

Yes, we do have trees in Indiana but the view is from below. Still pretty amazing. But nothing compares to the sites from above. I can only imagine what God sees - a Masterpiece and a piece of the Master. 

 

The Von Trapp Family

 "My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word." 

I love "The Sound of Music." It's one of those seasonal films that I can watch every year and not get tired of it. Much like Charlie Brown and "The Great Pumpkin" or "A Charlie Brown Christmas," "Elf" or "The Grinch that Stole Christmas." 

"The Sound of Music" reminds me of family, of love, of dangerous times, of saying "goodbye." 

Many of you are aware that Deb and I will be taking another ministry position in Indiana. We are looking forward to building another group of deep friendships, seeing God work in yet another context, being a part of a new larger community, and...after twenty years of being gone, closer to our children and grandchildren. Family. Love. Dangerous times. Goodbyes. New beginnings. 

But our hearts are sorrowful because we are leaving deep friendships, God's great work, a community that we have integrated into, and so much more. 

We also leave at a time when there is so much uncertainty in the world. The enemy is at the gates and I am looking for Mother Superior to tell me that the Hills are Alive. "Go child. Run to the hills." Wrong direction. I'm heading to Indiana where its as flat as a board. But we can hide in the corn. 

It is not bed time yet. I have a few more hours to stay up and enjoy the party but like little Marta with my bandaged finger, a time will come when I will have to say "goodbye" and head over Mount Nittany. 

"There's a sad sort of clanging 

From the clock in the hall

And the bells in the steeple, too. 

And up in the nursery

An absurd little bird 

Is popping out to say, "coo-coo" (coo-coo)

Regretfully they tell us

But firmly they compel us 

To say, 'good-bye' to you."

Up to Bat

 "Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord." Ps. 31:24

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life."  Prov. 13:12

I watched the Franklin Graham 2020 Prayer March last Saturday. Boy, did I need that. Prayer. But more importantly, hope. It's amazing how prayer reorients you. All the negative news. All the negative speech. All the negative attitudes. All, I confess part of my life at present. It disparages. It overwhelms the good and pushes aside the positive. It's hard being positive all the time. And sometimes...just down right impossible. But hope is a very powerful antidote.

For some reason, I have been reading a lot of WWI and WWII era writings. I finished Ian Murray's biography on Archibald Brown, the successor of C. H. Spurgeon during the late 1800's up unto the beginning of WWI and then read through Banner of Truth and Trust's two volume compilation of his sermons. Wow! It was like hearing sermons written for today's struggles. I also read Ellie Wiesel's Night. My goodness...if there was ever a time to just give up and die. Some did. Many survived but were dead inside until the physical caught up with the spirit. I read it in one sitting. Captivating. Convicting. Contemplative. Man's inhumanity to man. Hope in times of absolute hopelessness. 

The great Catholic Theologian, G. K. Chesterton wrote, "Hope is hoping when  things are hopeless or it is no virtue at all. As long as matters are really hopeful, hope is mere flattery or platitude; it is only when everything is hopeless that hope begins to be a strength." 

I saw this first hand when I worked with Hospice as a guest pastor. Those who were terminal and had no hope died very quickly. Those who had hope lived and some even recovered to the amazement of the medical community. 

Theologically, I know this. When the spirit is willing but the body is weak, it will keep pressing forward. But when the spirit is weak and gives up hope, the body will quickly follow. 

There is a story of a little boy who was hospitalized with a very serious illness, each day getting worse, each day giving up. His school, along with his parents, asked his teacher if she would be willing to go up and make sure that he kept up on some of his school work. If nothing more, it was a distraction from the seriousness of his illness. The boy made an amazing recovery and the doctors asked him what changed. He said, "Well...I was about to give up hope of getting better but then they sent my teacher up to teach me about nouns and verbs. I thought, 'If I was dying, why would I need to learn about nouns and verbs.'" 

Hope is a powerful thing. 

A man approached a little league baseball dugout and asked one of the boys what the score was. He said with a smile, "We're losing eighteen to zero." The stranger said, "How can you be so happy about that?" The boy said, "Well, pretty soon we'll be up to bat!"

Hope is a pretty power thing. 

Don't be discouraged. We'll soon be up to bat. 

Taming the Beast

 "My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires."

I was reading the latest edition of the Pennsylvania Game News that brother Earl gives to me after he's finished perusing and came across an interesting article about raccoons - "masked bandits." 

Belonging to the family class named, "Procyonidaes" (don't you just love learning new words you can use at Thanksgiving!), they are nocturnal, have 3-5 offspring called "kits" (refer once again to the above parenthetical), have five fingers that they use much like a human, are Covid-ready in that they prefer to wash their hands and food before eating, and they have retractable claws that are much stronger than our finger nails. And...they are soooooo cute. You just want to cradle them like a little baby and give them a bottle of milk while gazing into those big brown eyes. 

Oh...one more thing...they are vicious and are the second most infectious carriers of rabies next to bats. They have been known to attack deer when pursuing food (legal bait sold that is illegal to use 😜 ), when cornered or when you get between it and her young. In other words, they're not pets. They're animals with attitudes. It is how they survive, especially down in Philly where they are having a raccoon population problem because of the amount of free food and housing.  

My animal attitude has been coming out of late and I'm not alone. I feel threatened by BLM, Antifa, irresponsible neighborhood dog owners, and politics in general but I won't even go there. I feel like I'm under attack as a white, male, conservative, Christian, non-dog owner in ways that I have never felt before. Seeing old people in Portland and in Seattle being blocked from crossing the street by thugs masquerading as social justice proponents. Threatening to burn down homes that display the American flag. Stupid Covid requirements that have nothing to do with public safety but with public control and politics. Deep breath. I feel the beast rising. And yes, dogs barking as soon as I step outside of my house. 

I don't have an answer to the BLM/Antifa/non-stop barking dogs problem...well, I do and they're both fully loaded. Whoops. There I go again. Let's start over. I don't have an answer to the BLM/Antifa/dog problem but God does. He very clearly tells me to listen...listen to the genuine concerns but listen more closely to the heart. They are unbelievers. They are in need of salvation. They need Jesus, not conjured up demonic spirits promoting a spirit of lawlessness. And...they're going to need that dog when I'm in heaven and they are stuck here on earth with the Antichrist. 

Be slow to speak. Amos 5:13 says, "Therefore the prudent keep quiet in such times, for the times are evil." 

Be slow to become angry because it doesn't produce the righteousness that God desires. I am reminded of the description that Peter gives me of Jesus - "When they hurled insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to the one who judges justly." 

I want to be like Jesus. I'll be in prayer. I'll repent of my sinful anger. I'll listen. I'll be slow to speak. I'll trust the Lord. I might even buy a box of dog treats...mmmmm...I don't think so. 

He's still working on me and the raccoons.  

 

Spotted Lantern Fly

 "Jesus replied, 'No one who puts hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom." (Luke 9:62)

Ah, the beauty of those little bugs. We thought we had escaped them this year. Grey spotted wings. Red underlying wings with a rich yellow body. Lighting everywhere. Laying eggs all over for another year of plague. Another gift from Asia to the world. The Spotted Lantern Fly. 

The Spotted Lantern Fly "is a planthopper that is indigenous to parts of northern China, Taiwan, and Vietnam. Although it has two sets of wings, it hops more than it flies." It goes after grapes and fruit trees laying its eggs in mass - between 30-50. It also produces a sugary sap that turns into a black type of mold that will eventually kill the tree or plant. 

What I find fascinating is that its hard to kill the darn things with your foot. We finally figured out that they must have eyes in the back of their heads and somewhat blind in the front. If you try to sneak up on them, they jump. If you face them...squish. My back patio is often littered with the carcasses of my insect dance. I'm assuming this is what the neighbors are observing as they see me moving my feet up and down in a strange, and unnatural motion, trying to get in front of them as they keep turning to keep their back toward me. Given a feathered head dress and an animal skinned drum, I could do a good imitation of a first nations dance routine or maybe a good start to some good ole Pennsylvania clogging. 

I find that too many Christians live like this. Always looking backward so as to not get hurt but losing out on life because they neglect to look forward. Yes, those who do not remember the past are destined to repeat it. I'm not suggesting that we do. But I had a dear friend who said to me, "There is a reason the windshield in your car is much larger than the rear view mirror." Live for what's ahead while once in a while checking to see if something is creeping up on you from the back or the side. 

Jesus was pretty straight forward to those seeking to follow after him. If you want to follow me, take up your cross daily. If you want to follow me, your family has to come second. If you want to follow me, know that the things of this world cannot be a passion for you. If you want to follow me, grab hold of the plow and make a straight line while holding on to your oxen. I don't want any farmers who look back while trying to plow, i.e. I don't want a person who is always looking to their past life while trying to live for me. It won't work. 

Isaiah tells us to forget the past and to look for what God is doing in the present for a blessed future. 

We haven't been designed to merely jump but to fly. 

Solution:  Stomp away.