Not Always the Most Wonderful Time of the Year?

Today I find myself staring down the barrel of the concluding Sunday of Advent.  And so far I’ve been witness to the lighting of three candles (hope, joy, and love) with one to go (peace) followed by the king of all candles, the Christ Candle on Christmas Eve.  It’s been a different kind of year for our family as we explore new and diverse spiritual and worship opportunities rather than being bound to one church.  Yet through it all I can see the consistency that pervades all Christian congregations during this season.  There truly is hope and expectation that transcends all the accompanying man-made commercial madness that threatens to take over the month of December.

The busyness of the holidays can be seen in a small microcosm of the events my family will experience in just the next four days: my wife’s school chorus concert, my three children’s week of college final exams, the unexpected demise (and unbudgeted replacement) of a laptop computer, a long and tiring work-related trip to the site of a proposed nuclear power plant, the shock of three college kids returning home for winter break, and carpal tunnel surgery.  Yes, nothing says the holidays like carpal tunnel surgery!  But in the midst of the madness, my Sunday morning Advent worship gatherings have reminded me there is indeed hope through all our trials.  And while my family’s week may sound jam-packed and stressful, it’s simply a blessing to know that we’ll all be together again soon for the most wonderful time of the year.

However, the holidays can also be a stark reminder of the brokenness of this world our Savior was birthed into some 2,000 years ago.  On Saturday I was saddened to learn that an old friend had been hospitalized unexpectedly with stroke symptoms.  On Sunday morning, my heart broke when I read a news story of a gunman on the opposite side of the country firing randomly at passing motorists as he tried in a suicidal cloud of deteriorating sanity to deal with the end of a romantic relationship.  The story struck home even moreso when I discovered the slain gunman was someone I once knew when he was just a precocious, wide-eyed, fun-loving child of 4 or 5.  My emotions were sorely tested as I cried for these families whose coming week of the unknown, of unanswered questions, of grief and shock and despair, would put my "busy" week into perspective. 

In this world of ours, tragedy knows no holiday.  Misfortune takes no breaks.  And there is no single season of sadness by which to mark your calendars.  Crises await us at every turn with no consideration of convenience.  All the more reason to be mindful and thankful for the gifts of Advent: hope, joy, love and peace.  Why?  Because, regardless of the depressing tenor of the evening newscast, these four gifts are abundantly evident throughout the year, particularly as we approach Christmas.  And through all the critical moments we face in life, these four intangible elements easily overpower the ills that dominate our darkest days.  Make no mistake about it.  Christ has come.  He is with us always.  And He is coming again.  In each instance, blessing us beyond our station with the spiritual gifts that put all others to shame, the gifts that give us the strength and resolve to continue living in faith and serving Him.  When life seems void of hope, Our Lord brings it.  Jesus.  The loving and humble king who promises healing and restoration and who bears all our sins with grace and mercy.  In your life’s rock bottom moments, may you find the hope He offers through His birth, His teaching, His passion, His resurrection, and His love for you.   Merry Christmas!

What Have You Surveyed Lately?

Here are two thought-provoking quotes from a new book called “Indescribable” by Louie Giglio and Matt Redman.

"The wonders of the starry host are not merely a masterpiece. They are a message." and "God makes worshippers out of wonderers.”

Think about them for a moment or two and then ask yourself this.

How often do we use the word “wonderful” in our daily lives?  I know for a fact that it’s a common part of my daily vocabulary.  And after soaking in the two quotes above, I’m easily convinced of its overuse.  Even the most basic greeting between mild acquaintances (Q: How are you? A: “Just wonderful.”) now seems disingenuous and dramatic.  I mean seriously.  Are you honestly full of wonder at this very moment?

There are times in our lives when we are awestruck at the wonder of it all.  But we’re more likely to be found caught up in the minutiae of our routine and our worries, our work and our earthly trappings, than to be genuinely doubled over by the full force of a blast of God’s wonder and grace.  An extended period of too many days without that true sense of wonder leaves us disconnected and out of touch with our fellow elements of Creation.  You will surely recognize a real dose of His wonder as it will require days of recovery and recuperation on the part of the receiver.

Creation can be a great conductor of this sense of wonder.  The grandeur of the mountains.  The vastness of the skies.  The boundless diversity of life.  The power of the oceans.  The intricacy of the weather.  The miracle of birth.  The excitement of a new discovery.  The helplessness of being so very small.  And the magnificence of being loved so much in the midst of our insignificance.

God’s world, the one he breathed and built for us, is overflowing with wonders in every direction.  And each of those wonders, big and small, obvious and hidden, cries out to us with a message that too often goes unheard.  And that’s our fault, not God’s, because we are the ones who are broken.  Drowning in our pride and independence, we complain and whine and fill ourselves with woe, failing to appreciate all He’s done for us.  He has given us a sacrifice like no other, beginning and ending with the cross of Jesus Christ, a wondrous shape that pervades our existence from the furthest galaxies to the depths of our very cell structure.  Thank God there is no escape from it.  But unfortunately there remains plenty of apathy toward it.

Ladies and Gentlemen, this life is short.  In order to enjoy it at maximum effect, use your child-like senses daily to be humbled by His love for all of us.  Wonder at His creativity.  Survey your surroundings.  Take the time to understand it in all its glory and then praise Him.  Rejoice in the knowledge that He offers rest for the weary, peace for the troubled, forgiveness for the sinner, and an eternal sanctuary for the faithful.  Wonder at His works often and aloud to those around you.  Then open yourself to an offering of worship that, like His love, was meant to be both filled with wonder and to be wonderful!

Anthem

Recently, I found myself engrossed in an episode of “That Metal Show,” a weekly talk show offering from the fine folks at VH1 Classic that focuses on one of my favorite musical genres: heavy metal and hard rock music.  One of the standard segments of the show is a discussion of the Top 5 of various categories.  Inevitably the debate gets good-naturedly heated as music can be a subjective topic and the three panelists argue over which song or which band truly belongs on their final list.  This particular episode asked the question “What are the top 5 anthems of all time?”  But this time the debate grew heated not about the particular songs, but rather how an “anthem” should be defined.  The host of the show, Eddie Trunk, grew increasingly more passionate about this and I found my own head-banging brain wrapped up in the argument.  I love it when people are intelligently passionate about the things they believe in and hold dear to their hearts.  I got to thinking about my own list and then the process took a strange turn as I began contemplating not only songs, but how my own life’s anthem would best be composed.

Over the past two months I’ve been visiting a variety of churches on a quest to determine what the local worship community has to offer me.  This has been an educational exercise as each one is evaluated in a variety of categories: friendliness, quality of the message, music, facility, lay participation, timing, elements of worship, openness to alternative elements, demographics, programming, and level of congregational enthusiasm among others.  In each case, the individual churches have all had something positive to offer while none have necessarily struck me as the complete package.  Like each of us I’m finding there is no perfect model of church.  But each of them shared a similar anthem in worship – praise and glorification of God as our creator and redeemer, and as a deity of love, peace, hope, joy, mercy, justice, compassion and forgiveness who will come again to follow through on His promises to repair this broken world we call home.  And, consequently, it’s a natural progression to establish a worship environment for those present to use that time to commune with God in such a way that certain principles are reinforced and openly and eagerly expressed.  In this way, He is properly honored and we are properly equipped to go out as messengers of His good news and stewards and servants to live out His gospel.  These are the best of intentions and are executed at various degrees of success from church to church, and from week to week.  Any gathering of believers that can honestly commit to this is victorious.

However, one church I visited recently was beyond disappointing.  It was the only one where I felt the absence of any true sense of worship.  And as a result, my emotions ran the gamut.  What started out as anticipation and excitement, quickly gave way to boredom and confusion.  As I looked around at the other worshippers I found similar expressions of disconnect and puzzlement.  As the service wore on from music to message, I hoped for improvement but found none.  I felt sadness and a touch of anger that this church had failed in every way to engage a crowd of hungry and thirsty seekers.  Knowing full well the effort it takes to coordinate a worship service, I was bitter that those in charge had allowed their time of worship to be decreased in every way that served God and that fed his faithful. Instead I found only self-indulgence.    Where was the good news?  Where was the opportunity to praise God?  And to what spiritual end were these people being directed?  The longer I stayed the more tense I became, the more labored my breathing became.  I realized that this was no longer a good use of my time.  My conscience was screaming at me and I promptly exited the building.

I pray today for forgiveness for being overly critical, emotional, judgmental and passionate.  And I pray for those people who are unaware, exposed to a false sense of worship and to unhealthy church doctrine.  But in the end, I suppose the experience was a surprising lesson.  A reminder to never forget what my life’s anthem should be.  Not about me.  Not about us.  But all about Him.  About His Son.  About the Cross.  About His teachings.  About His coming.  And about His unconditional love for each of us no matter how far we fall from His infinite grace. 

I pray I can find a church home again where I can feel Him calling me to be a part of something greater than all of us.  Open a new door for me to be Your servant. Let me be more like You, Jesus.  And let my anthem always be you, O, Lord!

Cabin Fever

In the summer several years ago, when my three children were much younger, I remember a stretch of time when it simply would not stop raining.  I’d come home from work each day and hear my wife lament about how the entire family, including her, would soon be irreversibly stir crazy if the rain didn’t let up soon.  Then one day, I returned home from a day at the office and opened the front door to find an inflatable pool sitting in my living room, filled with pillows, and my children gleefully leaping from the sides, giggling and screaming at the top of their lungs “Geeattics!”  (This was their interpretation of the word “gymnastics’ at the time.)  And off to the side was my brilliant and beautiful wife, smiling contentedly, filled with pride at her ingenious solution to our little family’s bout with cabin fever.  And that pool remained inside for the duration of the summer.

Now here we are 15 years later, and it’s once again a rainy day when someone forgot to tell Mother Nature that the plan was for the family to visit the pool this afternoon.  My children are now grown and, rather than simply fall into the routine boredom that often accompanies a rainy day, took the initiative to alert their friends via the internet to an impromptu tournament of everyone’s favorite game, Guitar Hero, at our house.  Yet another stupendous solution to cure the mundane . . . the routine . . . the usual.

 

As children of God, we mature physically and socially, and as a result, our lives demand new and exciting experiences to push back the doldrums and the monotony life throws our way.  And we eventually take the responsibility upon ourselves to change things up.  Our faith lives are no different.  Once we mature to a certain point and understand fully what our souls stir for, we can’t be expected to be satisfied with the same formulaic worship routine week after week after week.  There comes a time when we demand the unexpected . . . the exciting . . . the element of surprise to take us on a joyous journey to the next level of fellowship with God.  Simply singing a few new songs and plodding through the same predictable standard service week after week, month after month, year after year, becomes inescapably tiresome.  We are social creatures of a mature faith who seek out new experiences with unique ways to communicate with God and to demonstrate our thankfulness and praise.  We look for new ways to release our artistic and creative talents to honor His presence.  We yearn for stronger connections with each other and with the common thread that created us and all of existence.

 

These longings command us to move beyond the comfortable and the easy and the simple, and to move into the realm of the difficult, the challenging, and the unlikely.  Break new ground.  Forge new relationships.  Travel new roads.  Meet new people.  Experience new ideas.  Move beyond your normal boundaries and expose yourself as an imperfect, constantly evolving follower of Jesus Christ.  One who is unsatisfied with this world as it is.  One who is unafraid to be heard above the din of a passive and deaf society.  One who will never stop searching for solutions to fan the flame of more believers and doers in the name of His grace and mercy.  I urge all of us to be daring and driven when it comes to expressing our faith and worshiping the One who sacrificed it all on our sinful behalf.  Work hard to make your individual and corporate worship fresh and passionate.  And, whether the moment is loud and boisterous or quiet and reflective, don’t be satisfied unless you know you’ve expended every ounce of energy to making your worship extravagant and magnificent and filled to overflowing with love and appreciation for all He has done and continues to do for us, his undeserving but grateful flock of thrill-seeking, monotony-battling, pillow-jumping, game-playing, giggling and screaming children.

Unlock Your Roar

I recently sat in the bleachers of our local football stadium on a warm summer evening and watched with much pride as my twin son and daughter graduated from high school.  It’s a bittersweet moment as I remember how much of a blank and innocent slate they were when they took that first bus ride to kindergarten, the 13 years of training and growth that culminated in that coveted diploma, and the nervous excitement that now builds throughout the summer as they anticipate the next four years of college and what lies beyond.  As the graduation ceremony wore on, we listened to speaker after speaker recite the same textbook words that one comes to expect at such an event. Thankfully, the class valedictorian decided to walk the walk and actually take “the road less traveled” rather than just talk about it.   He incorporated humor and wisdom into a well-crafted address that left the crowd smiling and relieved that our school system (students and administrators both) hadn’t completely fallen into a state of monotony and words without action or emotion.  There was indeed a light of hope at the end of a long, dark tunnel filled with test scores, homework, mid-level bureaucracy, and teenage hormones.

High school graduation is a frozen moment in time when, after years of preparation, you are finally bursting to make your mark in the world, seek your fortune, claim your independence, enjoy life to the fullest, bypass the mistakes of the past, and firmly grasp your dreams.  The last thing you want is for someone to shackle your zeal for life and to extinguish your passion for what it is you love to do.  By lingering too long in the same place and in the same position, sometimes such tragedies of life can be self-inflicted.  While we’re still young and not yet finally molded, our souls feel a need to move.  There will be time to plant firm roots in good soil later in life.  But when you are still a wide-eyed and eager novice with strength and health and untainted ideals, be mobile and experience all this world has to offer.

Jesus recognized this in His ministry.  Once he graduated to the full realization of who He was and what He had to offer, He was in a state of perpetual motion.  The same held true for His apostles once Jesus had ascended and they were finally free of their fears of persecution.  For those of us who feel the call and the purpose of the Great Commission deep inside, it can be difficult to contain that desire within the same four walls week after week and year after year, or even in the same town, or even in the same form of ministry.  It becomes undeniable that the message we are called to share with others is too big to be caged.  Jesus and His followers were unable to effectively preach the Word of God in their own hometowns, but this didn’t prevent them from walking mile after mile to find other towns and villages where their words were welcome and their healing miracles were seen in purity and experienced humbly, unquestioned and appreciatively.

Where are you in life right now?  Are you on the cusp of your own graduation?  Do you need to rediscover life’s passion and rid yourself of the routine and mundane and see a return to excitement and discovery and wonder?  If so, then take a step outside and know that He is with you always and will never allow you to falter.  Dare to dream and risk yourself because none of us should fall victim to the expected and the repetitious.  Move beyond life’s boundaries that others have set for you and see what God’s vision is for all of us.  Our God is not a small, insignificant, average and humdrum deity.  Not one to be imprisoned in the limited mind of humanity.  Our God breathes stars and paints galaxies.  He creates life and conquers death.  He is not held captive by concepts like time and gravity.  Our God moves and He is simultaneously raucous and loud, gentle and peaceful. 

Daniel Bashta, an up-and-coming contemporary Christian artist, has written a song titled “Unlock My Roar.”  In it he sings :

“The gates of Hell will tremble when love becomes the anthem that we sing.  Sickness will be silenced when this all-consuming power fills our streets.  I am the sound.  I have the voice.  I am the movement.  Unlock my roar.”

May the halls from which you are graduating today, be filled with fond memories.  May the new world into which you find yourself flung, be one of passion and blessings, both given and received.  And may the Lord of all Creation grace you with pomp and circumstance to move yourself and others in amazing ways.  Only He can provide the key that will truly unlock your roar.

Trash Can Man

This Spring, my family had the good fortune to attend a night of worship in Hershey, PA featuring one of my church’s favorite Christian music artists, Chris Tomlin.  Combined with special guest speaker, Passion founder Louie Giglio, I just knew it would be one of those can’t miss events.  I had heard ahead of time that there was an opening act.  Some band from Ireland (but not U2).  Never heard of the group. But I’d gladly sit through their couple of songs to get to the meat of the event.  It would be the polite thing to do. I mean, they couldn’t be that bad, right?

Once they appeared onstage, they were introduced as six young Irish guys and gals known as Rend Collective Experiment.  Funny name for a band, I thought.  But they proceeded to blow me away from the first note.  What an unexpected treat!  Their energy for Christ was contagious.  You could feel His presence everywhere.  Particularly in their renditon of the beautiful old hymn “Be Thou My Vision.”  Or when the members slowly processed, carrying a full-sized cross through the arena as Chris Tomlin sang “Jesus Messiah.”  And even as they joined Chris onstage for an encore and one of the members danced around using a metal trash can as a drum.  That night, God was truly present everywhere, with everyone, and in everything.  Even in the most unexpected of places: a trash can!

“Where can I go from your Spirit?  Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.” – Psalm 139

Psalm 139 reminds us that there is no escaping God for He is everywhere and always.  And why would we want to?  Because of our own sins and shame?  Our fears and shortcomings?  Terrified that there is someone out there who knows us for who we truly are?  Knows all our dark secrets and all our silly dreams? I’m reminded of a scene from the movie “The Count of Monte Cristo” where our hero, Edmond, lashes out “God? Can I never escape Him?”  To which his love, Mercedes, calmly replies “No. He is in everything.  Even in a kiss.”  Poetic.  And pretty darn romantic, too.

This summer I pray you will allow the warm breezes, the gentle rains, the blue sky, and the mixed sounds of birds and lawnmowers to soothe you in your leisure time.  Know that whatever your life’s situation, God surrounds you constantly and will never let you go. He’s in the Psalms and He’s in a funny-sounding bunch of Irish kids.  He’s in a kiss and He’s in a trash can. He’s in the most unexpected of things. And He’s in you.  And that’s a good thing, because He is for us and, once we understand what that really means, nothing can stand against us and His good news.  May your eyes be opened to the fact that God is here and He’s got no plans to go.  Amen.

Check out this link for a video of the trash can in action!  Our hero starts to really make his presence felt around the 3:00 mark.  Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vb6ikcfG4-I&feature=related

Dear John

Recently, our worship service lost a close friend.  John was one of the elder statesman at our contemporary service.  He was hard of hearing.  He liked to sit by himself.  He was opinionated, sometimes to a fault.  And he was a welcome surprise when he began to regularly appear each week.  At John’s memorial service, a colleague reminded me of how John would always ask at the end of worship if there was anything he could do to help us remaining worker bees.  One of John’s “jobs”, which he began to regularly assume unofficial responsibility for, was collecting the attendance pads from around the room.  I thought to myself that, from now on, anytime I find a stray that someone forgot to collect, I’ll think of John.  Because I know for sure John wouldn’t have missed it.

This past week, our Praise Team performed a song entitled “You Are My King (Amazing Love).”  One of the lyrics particularly stood out for me during this time of personal reflection at Lent.

“How could it be that You, my King, would die for me?”

When I evaluate myself, quite often I don’t like the face that stares back at me in the mirror.  After all, I’m a sinner.  I fail more often than I succeed.  I’m growing older.  I lose more often than I win. My hair’s receding.  I’m selfish and proud.  I have ridiculously large feet.  And I’m wrong more often than I’m right.  My wife will appreciate the honesty in that last revelation.  But at the end of the day, let’s just say I don’t even come close to being the example of God’s perfection that I’d like to be.

And yet, even in that state of imperfection, God still loves me enough that He would send His only Son to save me from sin and death.  To have nails driven through his hands and feet so that I might live.  To suffer the ridicule and persecution and beating that was mine.  To hang on a cross until His heart stopped beating, His lungs stopped breathing, and His brain ceased to function.  All the while bearing the burden of my shame.  Lovingly.  Willingly.  Without hesitation.

Just like my friend, John, I’m far from perfect.  I never deserved God’s great sacrifice or His amazing love.  But, fortunately for me, those are only my opinions.  God feels otherwise.  He sees me not for all my faults and my underwhelming qualities.  Instead He sees me for all that I can be and should be and for all the great things He intends for me.  My life is meant to honor Him.  And as we are led out of the wilderness of our Lenten wanderings this coming month, may each of us realize that no matter how often we get knocked down, we are called to rise up and finish the job He’s set before us.  Just like my friend, John, may we never stop asking what more we can do for Him no matter how far we may think we’ve fallen from grace.  And may we never allow even one of His strays to escape our attention.  His death and His resurrection demand nothing less.  Amen.

The Kids Are Alright

“There’s a storm coming.” These are the last words spoken to a young and very pregnant Sarah Connor at the end of the 1984 movie classic, The Terminator.  As she gazes off at the Mexican horizon, she simply and somberly responds “I know.” Then our heroine replaces her sunglasses, starts her Jeep, and drives off in the direction of the growing tempest as the music ominously builds and the credits begin to roll.

Have you ever experienced those stormy moments? The ones you can feel building for weeks or months ahead of time?  As far as I can tell there are two different kinds of trouble in life: the kind you can avoid and the kind you can’t.  In the case of the latter there’s no sense in hiding from it.  So just do your best Boy Scout impression and be prepared to meet it head on, because it’ll be here soon enough and, one way or another, you will have to deal with it.

I have one of those stormy moments approaching in my life.  In a few months, my wife, Traci, and I will experience the departure of all three children for college.  Now you might think that my storm is related to the family finances, but you’d be wrong.  Like most American families, we’ve been in debt before, so that’s nothing new.  Instead, our storm will be a quiet enemy: the sudden  and less obvious emptiness of the house.  The daily ring of laughter and music and arguing and homework and family meals will disappear as a strange new chapter unfolds for us.  No kids. After 20 years together, what’s that going to look like?

Traci jokes with me that I’m just afraid to be alone with her.  In reality, I’m eager for that part of the change.  But it’s bittersweet to say goodbye to our children . . . three of my best friends who give me so much joy.  On one hand I’m proud of them as they develop into independent adults and forge their own futures.  On the other hand, a selfish one, I am going to miss them terribly.

”So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” - Matthew 6:34 

These words of wisdom from Jesus are a comfort in these storms.  I’m sure they rang true for Him also and for His followers in the days surrounding His crucifixion.  Jesus knew His destiny and He made no secret of it to His disciples.  Yet I’m sure it was still heart-wrenching to sense the inevitability of it all.  Saying goodbye to family and friends is never easy, even for the Son of God. He was one of us and he felt the same emotions and attachments that we do. But if we invest our time and energy solely in premature worry, then we fail to enjoy the blessings of today and we fail to do the good work of the kingdom that God has set before us.  And that is more tragic than any goodbye.  Life is full of storms, but let’s not forget the renewal our world experiences after a day of rain.  This life was never promised to be dry and sunny every day, so remember and appreciate the hope inspired by each rainbow in the aftermath of every downpour.  That’s what Easter represents, too.  Hope springs forth from even the darkest of days.  So don’t waste your time and energy in hiding.  But rather meet God in the eye of your storms and you will find the truth: that love reigns eternal and we are not forsaken.  As that realization dawns on you, look to your stormy horizon without worry and greet tomorrow with a smile and a hearty “I know.”

A Grateful Nation

Of all our national holidays, I for one will attest to the splendor and glory that President’s Day holds for me.  Ever since I was a young boy leafing through my parent’s set of encyclopedias and came across the pictures of our 37 (at that time) chief executives, I’ve been fascinated by the men who have selflessly given their service, and in some cases their lives, to lead this nation we love so dearly.  And, as is the case with many things in life, I can’t help but root for the underdog even when it comes to ranking my favorite presidents.  Maybe it stems from James Buchanan, often considered the worst of all when ranked by scholars and historians, having been born in my home county of Franklin, some 220 years ago.  Other names come to mind also as favorite sons never given much credit for their roles in shaping our history: Millard Fillmore, Rutherford Hayes, Chester Arthur, and Warren Harding.  But the man I would focus on today is our fourteenth president. A handsome, young, military hero son of New Hampshire.  A friend of such literary and historical contemporaries as Nathaniel Hawthorne, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and, unfortunately, Jefferson Davis.  Known as Young Hickory of the Granite Hills, his name was Franklin Pierce.

Did Franklin Pierce even come close to resembling a good president?  No.  But the argument can be made that his failings in national politics make him all the more interesting of a subject to study.  We can learn much from the mistakes of those who precede us.  And when we look closely at Pierce the man, we find tragic and sad circumstances in his personal life that could not be cured, but only intensified, by an elevated career and the cumbersome mantle of the presidency.  Pierce battled alcoholism for much of his life.  And even upon his retirement from public life, his opponents never ceased to point out claims as a Southern sympathizer, cowardice as a soldier, and questions of his patriotism.  But at the forefront of this man’s life was his family: His wife, Jane, and his three sons.  Their first son died at birth.  The second son died at the age of four from typhoid fever.  The third son, Bennie, was tragically killed in a train derailment accident just two months before Pierce was inaugurated.  Still in mourning, Pierce’s wife suffered from depression and locked herself away in the upstairs of the White House for much of his presidency, writing letters to her dead sons.  Imagine the weight of such responsibilities on one man: professional, spiritual, physical, emotional, political, psychological, social, personal and national.  All the more reason to consider his survival of four years in office as a success.

The following lines from Pierce’s 1853 inaugural address summed up much of what weighed heavily on this 48-year old man’s heart: “I ought to be, and am, truly grateful for the rare manifestation of the nation's confidence; but this, so far from lightening my obligations, only adds to their weight. You have summoned me in my weakness; you must sustain me by your strength.” Unfortunately, our nation was also facing a tumult of epic proportions that failed to sustain even the slightest weakness in our chosen leader.  When we read of tragedies, both on personal and national levels, like those faced by President Pierce; perhaps it can give us strength to know that a realization of our weakness is the first step in spiritual recovery.  When we can face our demons and understand that true strength comes only from the saving power of Jesus Christ; when we can rely on His promises and His truth in the face of both curses and blessings; and when we can emerge reborn in His likeness from the depths of despair and misery . . . then we can experience what Franklin Pierce desperately cried out for from His country on the East Portico of the Capitol Building.  Sustenance like no other from the unmatched strength of a perfect Savior for a body weak in faith and born into a sinful and broken world.  The context of history may paint different legacies for all men, but great or otherwise, we all fall short of expectations without the love of the Lamb of God.  May the history books be tempered with the grace and mercy He has shown each of us.  And let him who is without fault, cast the first stone.  Amen.

Celtics, Buffalo and Sideburns

This week’s blog will begin and end with a quote.  To start us off, let’s consider what happens when we combine two of my favorite pastimes: music and basketball.  Hear now these words from, of all people, the legendary Boston Celtics cigar-smoking championship coach, Red Auerbach . . .

"Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life."

That’s the beautiful thing about music.  It can dramatically affect people from all different walks of life and it brings people together from diverging cultures and from geographic locations thousands of miles apart. And it can turn athletes into poets.  Quite a blessing from the Creator of all things great and glorious, eh?

Many of us would probably say that music has been a huge part of our lives and, yes, I’m no different.  It seems like a trite and unoriginal thing to say, but – hey - if it’s true – run with it I suppose.  Although it’s taken me until I’ve reached my fifth decade on this earth, my musical self has been unleashed nevertheless.  Singing in my church’s praise team and writing praise songs have become passions that I relish and I’d never have discovered if not for that rare combination of faith and creativity that our contemporary worship service has allowed.

This past year has also been a blessing musically for others I hold dear in this life.  In the past few years our church has developed a bond with an up-and-coming Christian band known as Relevant Worship from Buffalo, New York. Their music and their testimony had a profound impact on our congregation from the moment we first heard them at Creation Festival when they were still new and relatively unknown beyond Western New York.  Since that time, they have taken giant strides in their ministry and careers to evolve into a recording act known as Brothers McClurg for a major music label with an amazingly bright future ahead of them.  Even far removed from them here in South Central Pennsylvania, we still swell with pride as we watch them grow in faith and stature as disciples of Jesus Christ.

Their example has also shone brightly on my family and, in particular, my youngest son.  A talented guitar player at the ripe old age of 17, he has grown into the role of our church’s Praise Team Leader and has forged a musical identity of his own with three fellow musicians as part of a band called Lectionary77.  The band recently played its first gig at a local church and, as we’d hoped and prayed for, word of mouth has spread to open avenues for additional performances.  We look forward to exploring the path the Lord has set before him and his bandmates as they continue to write and record songs and play them for His unrivaled renown.  Success is measured in many ways when it comes to music.  But whether their ministry catches fire and leads them to years of prosperity, exotic places and larger venues or whether it’s God’s will that their role is meant to be something more obscure and remote – we rejoice in the knowledge that their time, talents and hard work is spent in something so worthy as the spread of God’s good news.

As the life of a Christian band goes, so it goes for all of us.  Don’t allow your life to be lived at any level of earthly success or failure without first knowing that you’ve given your all for the success of His kingdom here on Earth.  Live your life and pursue your life’s ministry at full volume, always to the roar of the crowd, always expectant of one more encore, and always to the best of your abilities.  And in the words of one of Red Auerbach’s legendary contemporaries . . .

“For those about to rock, we salute you!” – Angus Young, 1982

You can find out more about Brothers McClurg at www.facebook.com/brothersmcclurg and www.relevantworshipmusic.com

You can find out more about Lectionary77 at www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/pages/Lectionary77/138786109499954

Follow the Leader

As a big fan of the U.S Presidents, I’ve always been fascinated by their personalities as well as their policies.  My family will tell you, “Don’t even get him started talking about them or you’ll be sorry you asked.” But regardless of whether it’s our nation’s commander-in-chief or a small town politician, I’ve always appreciated the concept of term limits.  It can be argued that certain leaders are so good at what they do that an exception should be made, but it can equally be argued that too many politicians become “lifers” making a career out of something that was intended as a service rather than a vocation.  I, too, have recently had my eyes opened to the benefits of “term limits” when it comes to church leadership.

As 2011 rolled around, the position of Contemporary Worship Coordinator (my previous position) at my church was eliminated and the two pastors took over the many various duties associated with making our worship service happen.  I decided to take a few weeks off while this transition occurred to refocus and reevaluate.  I hadn’t been away from my home church for more than a week or two a year for the past six plus years.  And even during those weeks off, I was still deeply involved with planning the orders of worship, scheduling volunteers, and helping to shape the musical offerings for the week.  My month away was refreshing and gave me ample time to visit some other churches to sample their worship styles.  I also attended my home church for a week simply as a member of the congregation and found myself feeling strangely unfamiliar with that perspective.

But, in the end, I came to realize it was a good experience and one that I need to pursue more often.  During my time away, I found that others had a greater opportunity to participate in leadership roles and to grow as fellow worship leaders.  By being a constant leadership presence, I was doing something I love but was unwittingly inhibiting others from fulfilling their call.  I was also inhibiting myself from being an active worship participant and was not being sufficiently fed as I concentrated so intently on feeding others.  There are many of us called to serve as leaders, but it is a duty we should be willing to share equally with others.  We are not called to dominate leadership or to preclude leadership by others.  God wants us all to feel the privilege of leading others into His presence and towards His gospel. And we definitely grow most effectively as a congregation when we allow greater and more frequent opportunities for others to grow into leadership roles.  This includes all ages as well as men and women.  Church leadership is a gift to be shared, nurtured and grown and not one to be monopolized and coveted.  It’s my prayer that those of us in the background make an effort in the coming year to step forward, and those at the forefront may humbly step back and encourage our fellow members so that others can mature in faith and experience the joy of serving Christ and His church as our future leaders. 

As we read in Proverbs 11:14,

“Where there is no wise guidance, the nation falls, but in the multitude of counselors there is victory.”

Praise be to God!

Extra! Extra!

As a person who enjoys writing, as well as reading, you begin to take notice to how an author crafts his story.  After all, any good book, article, poem, song or blog is only as good as the story it tells.  From a spiritual point of view, each of our lives is a book and each of us has a story.  A question I recently saw posed is whether we expect to develop a relationship with God that advances our story OR will that relationship be one where our story becomes synchronized with God’s story and serves to convey the Gospel through our actions?  As a writer, you become sensitive to the idea that this piece I’ve spent so much time on, poured so much emotion into, and suffered for is my story and mine alone.  Once it’s published or hits the airwaves or is heard by other ears, it is forever stamped with my seal and I will live on through time every time the story is repeated.

But the written word and life are completely different animals.  Life is a gift from God that is meant to be enjoyed by each of us, and part of that enjoyment is establishing a strong and lasting spiritual connection with Him.  But to fully appreciate the benefits of this God relationship, we must do something that creative types and artists have such trouble doing: turn over control to another, completely and without remorse.  Could any premise be more opposite to the ways of the world?  Although we still enjoy the freedoms that come with being a child of God, our lives are no longer truly our own.  We belong to God 100% and cannot allow our own earthly life stories to supersede God’s great eternal story.  As followers of His Son, Jesus Christ, we must allow God sole authorship of this newfound community and be satisfied that our own stories are at best an interesting subplot in the continuing Gospel of His good news.  From an artistic point of view it may sound compromising, but from a spiritual perspective it is not a sacrifice but rather a boon.  We have joined the ultimate creative team that will redefine the story of all stories for generations of believers and faithful and we will revel in the joy as His love extends from page to page embracing every audience to whom it is opened.   No story was, is, or ever will be greater, nor will any story ever connect with more of the masses.  God, the ultimate creator, is busy at life’s storyboard right now mapping out the next chapter. And each of us is called to help promote that tale for maximum readership and maximum subscription.  Extra!  Extra!  Read all about it!  Amen.

Times Are Changing

We all face changes in our lives.  Every day.  Every year.  Some of us handle aging gracefully.  Others . . . not so much.  I recently came across the following interview for Christianity Today magazine with a man who was once voted "The Greatest Living American", 92-year young Reverend Billy Graham.  I thought it did an excellent job of offering each of us sage advice on growing old gracefully and growing old in the grace of Jesus Christ.

http://ht.ly/3HYF9

What Do I Say?

I recently saw a Facebook post from a friend of mine that read as follows:

“My best friend died this week, my heart is broken, I feel alone . . . I miss my friend with all my heart.” 

Wow.  How does someone respond accordingly to such raw emotion on a social networking site?  Does it even need a response or is the poster simply venting?  Ultimately, the posting received 139 return comments.  I started to read through these comments, and while they conveyed the appropriate condolences and sympathy that you’d expect, none of them really hit on a solution to the grief and sorrow and confusion that was raining down on that young man’s life at that very moment.  After thinking about it long and hard, I decided that sometimes just a few words are best to get to the heart of the situation.  I posted three short words that I hope to remember again anytime a tragedy arises where the spoken word fails to capture anything worth verbalizing.

“God is near.”

Remember that uncomfortable feeling that often accompanies reading a familiar obituary, or waiting in line at a funeral home or church to empathize with the grieving family?   We want to find the right words that will erase the terrible feelings and emotions that are dominating the moment.  We want to be a hero who can put death and suffering into the proper perspective so the burdens of the world can be that much lighter.  But the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ gave us all the hope and truth we need to face these troubled times.  We don’t have to play the hero.  Jesus has already filled that role as our Savior and Redeemer and he proved that God loves us so much that he lived among us, suffered with us, and defeated death and sin for you and I and all His children.  His promise and His proximity is all the comfort we need whether the days are exceptionally bright or increasingly dark.  You and I can’t change that and we can’t improve on it.  But we can remind each other because these are three words that will never grow stale, will never fail to open doors for healing, and will mean that we are never alone or friendless.

Artist? Yes. But My Favorite Ninja Turtle was Donatello.

As the holidays fall ever further away in the rear-view mirror, the winter months increase their icy grip on us.  And what better way to warm yourself than to curl up with a good book and lose yourself in the imagination of a gifted writer’s prose and plots and characters? Over the last few years I’ve become a voracious reader with an appetite for more and more books.  Just before Christmas, I found myself empty of new books with which to satisfy my craving.  I resigned myself to the hope that some new books would find their way to me on Christmas morning, which they did.  But, in the meantime, I grabbed an old book off the shelf to grant some temporary relief.  Now here we are a month later and I’m still engrossed with this old book while the new ones patiently wait their turn.  Strangely enough I never would’ve guessed that the book to unexpectedly hold my attention for so many weeks would be a book about the works of the Renaissance artist, Michelangelo.

The works produced by this man are indescribably amazing.  Whether as a sculptor or a painter, the trail of artistry he left as a legacy continues to inspire people centuries after his death.  To see the detail in his sculpture of David and in the Pieta (the grieving Mary holding the lifeless body of Jesus following the crucifixion) brings the Bible vividly to life for even the most casual observer.  And the intricacy and the painstaking dedication of the Sistine Chapel’s portrayal of the Last Judgement, the Creation, the Great Flood, the Prophets, the Ancestors of Christ and the Fall of Adam and Eve are humbling and a lasting tribute to the gifts that God gives each of us to share with the world.

One of Michelangelo’s most-admired qualities among fellow artists is something known as “terribilita.” It has been translated in many ways, but my favorite likens it to a sense of awe-inspiring grandeur.  Sounds like something all artists (writers, painters, musicians, sculptors, poets, actors, craftsmen) should aspire to epitomize. And while it’s difficult to imagine an artist on a far grander scale than Michelangelo, an artist who embodies “terribilita” in every piece of art he or she creates, that is exactly what we have in God.  What we have in Jesus.  And what we have inside each of us in the Holy Spirit.  Creation itself as told to us in Genesis is as grandiose and awesome as it gets.  Living a perfect life according to God’s will as Jesus did is beauty.  Enduring His Passion for all of us was “terribilita.”  When a new life enters the world we celebrate one more piece of God’s craftsmanship.  And when a life leaves this existence and enters into Paradise, we celebrate the soulful artistry of God’s handiwork.  As this winter slowly plods along, use those snowy days and cold nights to practice your appreciation for God’s artistry.  After all, every snowfall is His Pieta.  Every child’s laugh is His Sistine Chapel.  Every smile is His Mona Lisa.  Every act of kindness and compassion is His Romeo and Juliet.  And every moment of your life is but another verse in His unending epic poem of Creation.    Amen.