Profits

Aug 31/Jan 29

Dear Gary

I confess I’m still stuck on Jan 29 with Laubach, somewhere between desire and cynicism. I’m envious of his stated ability to be continually led by God: “I seem to have to make sure of only one thing now, and every other thing “takes care of itself,” or I prefer to say what is more true, God takes care of all the rest. My part is to live this hour in continuous inner conversation with God and in perfect responsiveness to his will. To make this hour gloriously rich. This seems to be all I need think about.” 

I like the idea of being able to focus, to trust that God is constantly at work “willing for His good pleasure” in my life. If I could be that focused, that centered, and that trusting I believe my hours too would be more gloriously rich.

My cynicism comes from the actions and claims of numerous preachers, especially those active on the public speaking circuits and on television. The closest to home when we lived in Colorado Springs was evangelical pastor Ted Haggard from New Life Church, just down the road from us. He preached constantly against the evils of premarital sex, adultery, and gay marriage. Then he was caught in a gay sex scandal in 2006. It was a sad interruption of his successful ministry.

Jim Baker and his wife Tammy Faye were synonymous with ministerial success in the 1980’s. Some of my parishioners in Berwyn repeatedly travelled long distances to hear them speak, a habit that ended when Baker was accused of sexual abuse and fraud. In 1987, after Bakker resigned from his ministry, he was convicted of financial crimes and sentenced to 45 years in prison. He was paroled in 1996 and now revisits the airwaves with a prophetic voice about the apocalypse, selling overpriced freeze-dried food to his listeners so they can cope with the end times.

As an American Baptist I have often been accused of having close theological ties to every other Baptist church in the country, even Westboro Baptist Church founded by Fred Phelps. Westboro is a fundamentalist ministry that was, and still is, known for protesting the funerals of gay people and gay pride events. It is classified as a hate group by the Anti-Defamation League and the Southern Poverty Law Center. Phelps had a brush with the law in 1994 when he was convicted of disorderly conduct, and 1995, when he was convicted for assault and battery.

Some religious people - and these are just part of what’s in the barrel, are inclined to proclaim that their word is the word of God, no matter what they truly believe. I’m not saying Laubach falls into that camp, only that I’m wary in the presence of self-proclaimed prophets, or even those who say they have an open link to the Lord. Especially if I thought one of them was me. It always seemed presumptuous to say I was modeling myself after the notes in the Scofield Bible, unashamedly asserting God’s truth when I wrote or spoke. With few exceptions I have always believed that conclusion was up to others to make and if what I said happened to be prophetic the words would proceed on their own merit.

The defining difference, which I see no sign of in Laubach, is the profit motive. For me profit and prophet just don’t go together. What I do see in Laubach is a readiness to claim God’s guidance in all the “little things,” wondering where personal responsibility comes in.

Pastor Mike

A Broken Heart

August 25 / January 29

Dear Gary,

Laubach has truly bypassed me. By my calculations he has been working on this “experiment” for about two weeks compared to one for me. (or as I read his letters, he's been at it for over a year.) That’s probably the reason for my lack of success. He has finally arrived at this stage: 

“I feel simply carried along each hour, doing my part in a plan which is far beyond myself. This sense of cooperation with God in little things is what so astonishes me, for I never have felt it this way before. I need something, and turn round to find it waiting for me. I must work, to be sure, but there is God working along with me. … I seem to have to make sure of only one thing now, and every other thing “takes care of itself,” or I prefer to say what is more true, God takes care of all the rest. My part is to live this hour in continuous inner conversation with God and in perfect responsiveness to his will. To make this hour gloriously rich. This seems to be all I need think about.” 

I confess my inability to keep up with him. I can maintain a continuous inner conversation for about ten minutes, then I get distracted. in that short time I often have a sense of God’s will, but I am certainly not perfectly responsive to it. I can get so far as asking for guidance in a certain matter. I even get an answer. But it always seems to be the answer I don’t want to hear. I try to talk God into suggesting something else and that’s when my companionable dialogue comes to a halt.

Jonathan Edwards would not, I think, be my first choice for a spiritual advisor. He seems a bit too willing to decide whether others are displaying Christian lives - and can expect eternal results because of their behavior. My thinking is that Edwards is frustrated by the fact that so many people have religious truth presented to them and show no change in their lives. His explanation, I think, is that those individuals have not been “affected” by God, and he names the affections that reside in persons who are truly religious. Those people are the chosen recipients of God's grace and salvation.

He lists several affections: fear (of God), hope, love, hatred (of sin), desire, joy, sorrow, gratitude, compassion, and zeal.  One of these stood out for me because our pastor’s message today focused on it. Edwards says, “Religious sorrow, mourning, and brokenness of heart are also frequently spoken of as a great part of true religion, a distinguishing quality of the saints. ‘Blessed are they that mourn,’ said Jesus, ‘for they shall be comforted.’ It is also a pleasant and acceptable sacrifice to God: ‘The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.’”

The pastor presented the same “affection,” but in different terms. We are broken-hearted about the evil in the world because God’s heart is broken. It is the broken-heartedness we share with God that motivates us to not be idle in the face of sin, but to engage it, to confess our own contributions to it, to abandon cynicism and to adopt the new heart of life and engagement God offers us. We accept not for Edward’s emphasis, that we allow the affections to move us so that God won’t despise us. The pastor’s approach built on our desire to become more Christlike, which means being centered in sorrow for evil and sin.

- Pastor Mike

Discipleship

August 22/January 26

Dear Gary,

Dr. Laubach comes a long way in a short time. He says that he is feeling God in each movement, willing that God direct his fingers in typing, his steps as he walks, his words as he speaks, and his jaws as he eats. 

“It is exactly that “moment by moment,” every waking moment, surrender, responsiveness, obedience, sensitiveness, pliability, “lost in His love,” that I now have the mind-bent to explore with all my might. It means two burning passions: First, to be like Jesus. Second, to respond to God as a violin responds to the bow of the master.”

This is  beyond me, or as Lewis puts it, beyond my “self,” which is destined for death. He says,”Hand over the whole natural self, all the desires which you think innocent as well as the ones you think wicked - the whole outfit. I will give you a new self instead. In fact, I will give you Myself: my own will shall become yours.” I think from this perspective feeling God in each movement would qualify as innocent or good. It becomes a matter of trading in my self for Jesus’ self, an even exchange. I have no idea what He does with the old ones.

Dallas Willard, in The Cost of Nondiscipleship, argues that the early Christians were first and foremost disciples, already part of the Kingdom  of God. They are contrary to modern church members. “For at least several decades the churches of the Western world have not made discipleship a condition of being a Christian. … (They) do not require following Christ in his example, spirit, and teachings as a condition of membership. Churches are filled with “undiscipled disciples.”

I consider myself to have been an undisciplined disciple when I first arrived at seminary. It took me some time to realize I had chosen a religious profession but hadn’t made a personal commitment to follow Christ. In the years that followed I made many deep commitments, but I know I often confused my commitments to Christ with commitments to the church. The latter were always more easily accomplished. At the same time the difference between the two was noticeable to me in the attitudes of my parishioners. They often lacked, at least outwardly, much semblance of commitment to Jesus as Lord. As Willard points out, we are more prone to make converts, not disciples, and baptize them into church membership, not the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

I misunderstood Willard at first. I thought he was presenting discipleship and nondiscipleship as a dichotomy. Either you are or you aren’t, you have it or you don’t. I've been exposed to this sort of thinking many times in the past.. Either you’re a Christian or not; either you’ve accepted Him or you haven’t. For me the most frequent negative about this approach is the unsettled feeling that comes in our recurring separations from God. We think maybe we didn’t make a faith decision; maybe my initial commitment wasn’t strong enough. Maybe it didn’t take.

But Willard corrects that thinking. Decisions and commitments are recurring events, and each one takes us deeper into a life of faith. “In the heart of the disciple there is a desire, and there is decision or settled intent. The disciple of Christ desires above all else to be like him … The disciple is one who, intent upon becoming Christlike and so dwelling in his “faith and practice,”  systematically and progressively rearranges his affairs to that end.”

- Pastor Mike

Frank Laubach

Dear Gary,

You recently persuaded me as a friend (and your friendship is now in question), that I would find  Letters by a Modern Mystic both beneficial and growth-inducing. I say your friendship is in question because in my naiveté I assumed you meant I would find it a good read, not realizing you expected me to take the Letters to heart and use them as a guide to greater spiritual maturity. 

As you mentioned, the Letters were written by Frank Laubach during his missionary service in the Philippines during the 1930’s.  At the outset (January 3) he states his goal thus: “As for me I resolved that I would succeed better this year with my experiment of filling every minute full of the thought of God than I succeeded last year.” 

I can identify with his goal to the extent this has often been my desire as well, but it has always ended as a fantasy rather than an experiment. One of the challenges I face daily is my inclination to grandiose thinking. In the past I’ve decided that instead of studying a few Bible verses I’ll study all of them. I’ve set my sights not on working out once a week for a month, but every day for a year. I won’t construct a workbench, I’ll organize a whole shop and build cabinets for it. None of these have come to pass.  And I have determined in the past to fill all my waking moments with the presence of God. This one is still up for debate.

On some occasions I’ve found what I assumed to be God’s thoughts, or voice, speaking to me sotto voco, particularly in times of prayer. I have even considered that it was God’s words that found their way onto a sermon manuscript; after a time of study I would begin writing, struggling at first, but then feeling the words flow effortlessly onto the page I was typing. In retrospect I have most often attributed this to being focused on the sermon to the exclusion of any distractions, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe it really was God speaking. In addition there have been times when I determined to focus continually on God and God’s presence. My decision to do so would come on the heels of what I’d believed to be an internal dialogue with God, but I would quickly set my resolve aside. I have always been easily distracted from movies, sermons, and God, and thus irregular in prayer. It’s just hard for me to focus.

Laubach further defines his purpose: ”But this year I have started out trying to live all my waking moments in conscious listening to the inner voice, asking without ceasing, “What, Father, do you desire said? What, Father, do you desire done this minute?” It is clear that this is exactly what Jesus was doing all day every day. But it is not what His followers have been doing in very large numbers.” 

If I were going to undertake this exercise I thought it would be wise not to do so alone. My choice for a companion was Devotional Classics edited by Richard Foster and James Bryan Smith. They provide writings by about 50 individuals we would count as people of faith. I read this book thoroughly about 15 years ago and taught a Sunday School class using some of the chapters.

It intrigues me now that the first excerpts come from C.S. Lewis, who seems to be singing from the same songbook as Laubach: 

The real problem of the Christian life comes … the very moment you wake up each morning, all your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving  them all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. We can only do it for moments at first. But from those moments the new sort of life will be spreading through our system,  because now we are letting Him work at the right part of us. 

I’ve never been troubled by the wild animals Lewis talks about. My animals are still asleep when I wake up, and it’s an accomplishment to get a list of the day’s responsibilities together. Nevertheless it takes all of my concentration to focus on what God might be saying. And I can only keep it up for a few minutes, let alone all day. This could be a long battle.

- Pastor Mike

Ruth and Refugio

It is tempting, reading the Book of Ruth, to absorb the story in charmed, dreamlike terms. Here is Ruth, the beautiful young woman, recently widowed but dedicated to her mother-in-law, Naomi. Lovely and captivating, she rejects her Moabite background to accompany Naomi, also widowed, back to Bethlehem in Israel. Israel, occupying the moral high ground, where anyone would prefer to live. She seems the epitome of a girl at peace. 

Or perhaps not.

In her treatise on “Hospitality” (Dorothy Bass, Practicing our Faith) Ana Maria Pineda tells the story of Refugio, who fled an abusive marriage in Central America with her three small children. She had been beaten regularly, but had remained in the marriage until her husband began beating the children;  finally she gathered the courage to leave. It was risky. Her husband was a town leader and his family would go to great lengths to protect his reputation. All signs of impropriety were suppressed. Her departure would, in their eyes, dishonor him, and they would go to great lengths to prevent it.

After weeks of indecision she recalled the name of a relative who had left the village a few years before to live in the United States. She discretely managed to locate and contact him, sharing her dilemma and asking for his help. Finally a cryptic message arrived giving her directions for travelling to a city in the US. It would be less dangerous, he said, if she avoided the town where he lived.

Pineda says, “At the designated hour she and her children boarded a small van. They crouched down as they were driven across the US border. From there, they traveled for what seemed an eternity. Refugio was filled with self-doubt. Perhaps it had not been such a good idea to leave her husband. What would she do in this strange land? She could not speak the language. She did not have much money, and what would she do once it was spent? As the children began to fret and cry, her fear increased, and she felt helpless to assure them that all would be well. Finally, overcome by weariness, Refugio fell asleep.”

Now consider Ruth, encouraged to return to her family. But she will be excluded and shamed for marrying a foreigner, someone outside the tribe. She has dishonored her family and she will be dishonored in turn. To go back is dangerous, to go to Israel is equally perilous. Her sister decides to return and face whatever consequences await. Ruth determines to stay with the threat she knows.

But it isn’t easy. Naomi tries over and over to dissuade her. “No, you can’t come. No, stay here. No, stop following me.” But Ruth says in effect, “I’m coming. No matter where I go, my life is forfeit. I’m coming with you. Your God will be my God.”

And so they straggle into town, Ruth following at a distance while Naomi grieves her widowhood and the unfairness of God toward her. The people of Bethlehem don’t recognize her. “Can this be Naomi? She doesn’t look like Naomi. Too distraught!”

 “Don’t call me Naomi,” she tells them. “Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me.”

After they arrive Ruth determines to pay her way, Naomi being without financial support. But the work at the barley harvest can be a dangerous as well. Especially with the gleaners, who are more than willing to take advantage of a young single woman. But she ends up in a field belonging to Boaz, a relative, who asks, “Who does that young woman belong to?” He instructs her to stay close to the women working there and says, “I have told the men not to lay a hand on you.” Because they might try; otherwise why mention it? So Ruth, and by association Naomi, have fallen under the protection of Boaz. She asks him, “Why have I found such favor in your eyes that you notice me—a foreigner?”

Boaz replies, “I’ve been told all about what you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband—how you left your father and mother and your homeland and came to live with a people you did not know before. May the Lord repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge.”

Refugio: Delivered safely to Little Havana, she awakens to tranquility in a sleepy neighborhood that bids her welcome, offering her a place to rest, and to live.  

Ruth (or is she also Refugio, the refugee?): Delivered safely to Bethlehem, a sleepy village. She has followed in the wake of bitter grieving Naomi, wondering, perhaps, whether the townspeople there will simply imprison her for a while and then snatch her back to Moab because, after all, she is a foreigner. It is fortuitous that she instead lives in safety beneath the wings of the Lord/Boaz. It leaves one wondering whose protection she would fall under today if she were to follow her mother-in-law across our southern border.

Fragile Freedoms II

As we consider the values that shape our church life together it seems appropriate to mention two aspects of freedom lifted up by Walter Shurden in his book, Four Fragile Freedoms. 

Church Freedomis the “… affirmation that local churches are free, under the Lordship of Christ, to determine their membership and leadership, to order their worship and work, to ordain whom they perceive as gifted for ministry, male or female, and to participate in the larger Body of Christ…”

Religious Freedomis the “historic … affirmation of freedom of religion, freedom for religion, and freedom from religion, insisting that Caesar is not Christ and Christ is not Caesar.” (In a previous article I mentioned two others, Soul FreedomandBible Freedom.) 

Quaker history isn’t identical to Baptist history, the perspective from which Shurden writes. It is, however, complimentary to Baptist identity. It can be said without question that the “fragile freedoms” Shurden identifies were, and still are, compatible in many ways with Quaker philosophy and practice.

George Fox founded the Religious Society of Friends, or Quakers, in the 17^thcentury in England. Those in the movement were persecuted for their beliefs, which included the idea that the presence, or “light,” of God exists in every person. This conviction, along with the Quaker rejection of elaborate religious ceremonies and official clergy, contrasted sharply with prevailing Christian theology. 

Both Protestant and Catholic churches insisted that children were born in a state of sin, dependent on the reception of the Holy Spirit as an affirmation of God’s presence in their lives. It was the role of the church to usher in the Spirit via infant baptism, preferably right away. Otherwise they might die early and salvation would be impossible. To suggest that God could be resident without such intervention was considered blasphemous, and was firmly rejected. Baptists, who clashed with clerical power primarily over their opposition to infant baptism, were imprisoned in the colonies over this issue.

The Quakers ran afoul of another conviction. It was that every individual had the light of God within them. Not only did they reject infant baptism. They denied the power of the clergy and the church to determine where God would take up residence. 

Quakers, then, as inhabitants of both England and the New World, didn’t have official clergy and believed in spiritual equality for men and women. They played a key role in both abolition and women’s rights movements. In some quarters they did not consider themselves Christians.

A current example of Church Freedom arises when we consider the formation of NEFC in its separation from NFC. Without the guarantee of church freedom it could be said that NFC had no “right” to exclude certain members, and likewise NEFC had no “right” to form a separate congregation. Those actions would be viewed as illegal. I have no idea which religious group holds the record for the most church splits in history, but I doubt any party could outdo the Baptists. They might be viewed as the Church Split Experts.

Quakers have traditionally practiced pacifism, insistence on male and female spiritual equality, the refusal to take oaths, and the right of women to speak out during worship. (This last is still a point of contention in both Catholic and some Protestant circles when those pesky women just refuse to remain silent.)

From a broadened perspective it could be said that the idea of religious freedom and the resistance to it is primarily a power struggle. That was the case in Colonial America where Anglican, Puritan, and Congregational churches initially held sway. Most attempted to enforce strict religious observance, with colony governments and town rules mandatingthat everyone attend a house of worship and pay taxes that funded the salaries of ministers. Thus before colonial independence and the passage of constitutional amendments some persecution was common. 

Both Quakers and Baptists were initially targeted. Later it was Mormons, Christian Scientists, and Native Americans. Today Muslims are in the crosshairs. Ideally we are a free people who celebrate our religious freedom and honor and defend the freedom of others. Often, however, it falls to Quakers (and Baptists too) to defend those ideals.

At NEFC we have been exploring the implications of a Trinitarian understanding of God. It is one that suggests a meeting of individualism and corporate identity. Shurden identifies three basic types of church government among Christian churches. They are episcopal, presbyterian, and congregational. In episcopal church government, authority is placed in the hands of one person, usually a bishop. In presbyterian church government, authority is vested in a small group, often called elders within the local church. In congregational church government, authority is placed in the hands of all the members of the church.

As Shurden points out, those in the free church tradition, including Friends, practice democratic church polity not because it is more efficient or more reliable or even more biblical than other forms. In fact I suspect if a visiting Quaker told you the “Quaker Way” was more efficient than other approaches, you might wonder which congregation they were previously a part of.   Instead Quakers follow democratic church polity because it accents the role of the individual within community, allowing the greatest freedom for the greatest number of people to have a say. Moreover, democratic church polity is a statement of the equality of all believers in determining the mind of Christ.

When Quakers (and Baptists) began in seventeenth-century England, a crucial part of their cry for freedom was the determination to worship God according to conscience. Specifically, they wanted freedom from the set forms of Anglicanism as recorded in The Book of Common Prayer. Their aim was to personalize and revitalize worship.  At NEFC, Open Worship sets the stage for vital worship. It offers each of us occasions to hear God’s voice not only for us as individuals, but for the congregation as a whole.

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References

Shurden, Walter B.. The Baptist Identity: Four Fragile Freedoms (p. 45). Smyth & Helwys Publishing. Kindle Edition.

https://www.facinghistory.org/nobigotry/religion-colonial-america-trends-regulations-and-beliefs

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Congregational_church

https://www.history.com/topics/immigration/history-of-quakerism

Independence Day

It seems appropriate, closely following Independence Day, to talk about freedom. In a recent business meeting at our church there was discussion about the future name of the congregation. One agreement seemed to surface among those present, that the name should somehow reflect the inclusiveness we value as a congregation. I raise the issue as one, along with my family, who has recently been inclused (oops, included) in the life of the church. That experience has encouraged me to describe the other side of the coin, so to speak. Many of you relate to the value of inclusion as those who do the including. Others of us, and I would hope many still to come, relate as its recipients.

We arrived in Newberg after a rather circuitous geographical journey as American Baptists, serving in pastoral roles in Lyndhurst, OH, Berwyn, IL, Medford, OR, and Colorado Springs, CO. We ended the excursion nearby where I served as Interim Pastor at McMinnville First Baptist Church. Then, thanks to my daughter and her family’s attendance here, we landed at Newberg Friends. Having arrived from FBC McMinnville, an outspoken supporter in American Baptist circles of LGBTQ individuals, we unquestioningly stayed with NEFC when divisions arose.

I think it has been a smooth transition. At no point have we been shunned because we didn’t have a Quaker last name, nor because you suspected us of being furtive Southern Baptist spies. My biggest challenge, and I suspect it is a trial for any newcomer without a Quaker background, was figuring out the rules of social engagement. Language is fundamental. I attended an early Communications Committee meeting (are they “committees”?) where I inquired about the timetable for selecting a new church name. Others explained that timetables weren’t the “Quaker way” and the new name would be suggested and agreed on at the right time. Frankly I’d had little experience with patiently waiting for the Spirit to move. The two guides to faith and practice I depended on were the Bible and the Calendar.

Some of you have eased the way. Howard Macy and David Sherwood have been most good-natured in guiding me along under the new rules of the road. At one point I asked whether it was expected for the pastor to relate his or her personal experience during the sermon (oopsagain: teaching) because I’d heard Greg and Steve and Elizabeth do so consistently. American Baptist pastors are usually content to use examples from other people’s lives and avoid personal history. If it was righteous it might sound like bragging, and if it was sinful you could be accused of being, well, sinful. Howard assured me personal history wasn’t demanded, but it was acceptable.

In sum we have been welcomed and embraced whole-heartedly, and feel blessed to be with you. One lingering question for me, then, is “What do we bring to the table?” Let me suggest some values that support and may enrich those being considered by the congregation. They come from a book by Walter B. Shurden, Executive Director of the Center for Baptist Studies at Mercer University, titled The Baptist Identity: Four Fragile Freedoms (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys, 1993). Two of the freedoms he identifies are:

Bible Freedom, the historic affirmation that the Bible, under the Lordship of Christ, must be central in the life of the individual and church and that Christians, with the best and most scholarly tools of inquiry, are both free and obligated to study and obey the Scripture.

Soul Freedom, the historic affirmation of the inalienable right and responsibility of every person to deal with God without the imposition of creed, the interference of clergy, or the intervention of civil government.

According to Shurden these values describe

·      members of the whole Christian family who stress the experience of personal salvation through faith in Jesus;

·      those who under the Lordship of Jesus Christ have bonded together in free local congregations, together seeking to obey Christ in faith and in life;

·      those who follow the authority of Scriptures in all matters of faith and practice;

·      those who have claimed religious liberty for themselves and all people;

·      those who believe that the Great Commission to take the Gospel to the whole world is the responsibility of the whole membership.

So while “What do I bring to the table?” may be a pressing question, the overriding issue is “Who am I in this place?” For many people their identity is centered on racial heritage or sexual preference, political persuasion or occupation. “I identify as a white male;” or “I identify as a teacher.” To me it seems preferable to say, “We are part of a congregation who believe that as individuals we have come to put our trust in God and confess Christ as Savior and Lord, accepting the Scriptures as our guide for faith and practice.” Plus I am almost ready to say I identify as a Quaker. Almost.

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The Hoosier Apex

     I have decided to take pity on the greater population of the United States because Purdue is now in the national basketball spotlight. As a result you will quite possibly be exposed to what is linguistically known as the Hoosier Apex, a select part of the country located in Mid-America. 

     When you visit there it seems like you have suddenly wandered into the State of Alabama. Hoosier people speak as if they are competing for the championship of Slow Talkers of America, and there is no such thing as a short conversation. It is where if someone says the word greasy the s is transformed into a z, resulting in greazy. It is where the addition of the letter s, not z, is essential to a conversation: Have you sold your guyses house yet? No, not yet. How come? Relying on the past tense -  It just needs redecorated or somethin.

     So here are some Hoosier translations of words you may be familiar with and of which you mistakenly think you know the correct pronunciation:

     Creek – Crick (can also be a neck problem). Tower – Tar. As in Water Tar. Related is Shower – Shar, from the clouds or in the bathroom. Mango– not a fruit in Hoosierland, but a green pepper. Potatoes areTaters and Tomatoes are Maters. And by the way, when it thunders, the taters are rollin.

     Most words that you suppose require a g at the end do not, e.g. lightnin, runnin, shoppin. You don’t sit, you set, and you set a spell if you mean to stay a bit. You haven’t eaten, you’ve et. And inexplicably you don’t get, you git. It can mean to acquire, or to leave immediately. 

     We eat pecon pie, like in wand, not pecan, like in band, and our mother’s sister is an ant, not an  Southern East Coast spawned awnt. Buggy isn’t a mosquito-filled night but a conveyance; my grandmother had one, with a horse. D’rectly is how you’re to come home from school, and Laws doesn’t mean rules, but is a substitution for Lord when combined with A’Mighty, thus avoiding taking God’s name in vain. 

     Yer is possessive, either singular or plural. Ain’t is isn’t, snoot-full is drunk, holler is either a shout or a low place between two hills (not many of which exist in Indiana) or in the woods (which do). And finally, you would be tarred from a long day’s work – or from learning to talk like this.

     It will, however, be worth it if Purdue keeps winning. You may even encounter a television announcer who can actually speak intelligently, like a true Hoosier. As a graduate of Indiana University (not the University of Indiana, which I think is squirreled away somewhere east of the Apex) I’m usually not respectful of the Boilermakers (not a steelworkers’ union) but I would never instead support the hated teams from Michigan or Ohio , may they feel the heat of eternity forever. Enjoy the playoffs!

Suffer the Little Children On the Two-Seat Side of the Plane

May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you the same attitude of mind toward each other that Christ Jesus had. (Romans 15:5, NIV)

Margie and I have been talking recently about what is a fairly new phrase for me: “God-sightings.” I know, I’ve been out of the loop. On the one hand it has caused me some confusion because “sightings” isn’t a word I’ve usually connected with God’s presence. God’s visibility has been rather limited in my life. Still small voices occasionally, but no burning bushes. At the same time I’ve been able on many occasions to “see” God in retrospect - not God’s physical features, but instances of God’s abounding love and forgiveness. They have shaped my life.

Those have been learning moments, and when I’ve taken them to heart they have prodded me toward kingdom living. The converse has also been true. I clearly recall times that God was inviting me to go in one direction and I stubbornly took the other. 

One occurred a few years ago. I had boarded a flight from Chicago to Colorado Springs, and since I was preaching the next day I reflected on a passage from Matthew’s Gospel. In it Jesus admonished his disciples who wanted to isolate him from kids. “Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.’" (Mark 10:14 NIV) I put on my seat belt and settled in to better understand Jesus’ response.  It was clearly a directive to encourage children, inspire patience, and support them. 

That’s when the stewardess, Christine, sat Shelby next to me. She said Shelby was a 6^th grade boy heading home after visiting his divorced mother in Rochester, NY. Would I mind? He was accompanied by a 3 foot tall stuffed Ninja turtle in a large yellow sweatshirt.

As I read about Jesus and the children, Shelby was inventorying candy and gum from his backpack, his pockets, and the sweatshirt of the turtle, whose name was Leonardo. Most of the candy went directly into Shelby’s mouth. I looked up a moment later to see Christine standing over us. Shelby had pushed the call button, but he couldn’t remember why. Christine reminded him to raise the window shade because we hadn’t taken off yet, and he did – repeatedly – while unwrapping some more gum. Shelby was truly a multi-tasker.

After we took off Shelby pressed the call button again, and when Christine arrived he asked for a Coke. She said drink service would be soon (“But when?!”) (“Soon!”). This conversation provided just the opportunity for him to ask me to stand in the aisle; he needed to get out and go to the bathroom.

At last, a Coke for Shelby. I thought the two-liter bottle of water in his backpack had run out, but from his viewpoint it was just poorly packaged. He couldn’t gnaw a hole in the bottom of it like he could in a plastic airline cup. Doing so allowed him to suck the contents out from the bottom; he accomplished this while stirring what remained with his finger, disrobing Leonardo, and asking why I didn’t get a Coke. I told him the leaders of my congregation only permitted me to drink Pepsi. After I explained the meaning of “congregation” he was off to the bathroom again.

Another call to the stewardess. In response to his repeated inquiry – “How long?!” – Christine told Shelby that we were still at least an hour away from Colorado Springs. This allowed ample time for him to eat more candy, use his seat as a trampoline, study the height to which a tray table would bounce and question the passenger behind him about her destination. Evidently it hadn’t occurred to him that we were all headed for the final stop, Colorado Springs. He also made another trip to the restroom.

A half hour from home, Shelby had engaged in at least three rounds of energetic fisticuffs with Leonardo. He marked the final round by pushing the call button, again wanting to know our arrival time. Christine responded and said, “Twenty minutes.” He decided there was an opportunity for one last bathroom run. And this was the moment my Christian commitment to encourage little children deserted me. Lacking compassion, I tried to dissuade him.

“Think about something else.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Think about taking a shower.”  He groaned.

“Drinking fountains.” 

“Uuggh.”

“Niagara Falls.”  

He rolled his eyes and crawled over my legs, headed aft. I could see that there was a line for the restroom, and then the captain came on the loudspeaker with news of thunderstorms ahead and the need for seatbelts. I waited to fasten mine because I knew Shelby would be back soon, and after we hit the first air pocket he was, eyes wide from the sudden drop. He hopped over me into his seat, buckled in, and told me he didn’t have to go that bad after all.

Paul’s challenge of encouragement faces us in the story about Jesus and the children. Encouragement can be a burden. We have to work at it. But Jesus knows we’re also blessed by it. As we encourage others, not just children, to persevere in patience and faith, we gain fresh perspectives and new understandings of God’s grace for ourselves. I suspect those are “God-sightings.”

But I also suspect something has been left out of the gospel accounts of Jesus’ meeting with these disciples, parents, Pharisees, and kids. I wonder if, when he insisted on letting the little children come to him, at least one mother in the crowd didn’t say under her breath, “Be my guest.” 

                                                           

Michael Sayler, a former Christian Education pastor

On Intent

I abandoned the project I had chosen:

Copying the renaissance master drawings

From the illustrated book of renaissance master drawings.

I found that I could visualize them

One after another

But using pencil or charcoal or chalk and paper

To match one, let alone each, proved impossible.

Which was discouraging

Because these drawings replaced my intent

Being of a religious leaning

To read the Bible in six months,

Not beginning in six months, but over the immediate span of six months,

A plan frustrated by my decision to read at night

When sleep conquered the text, beginning with Genesis (In The Beginning).

I had counted reading a substitute

For my goal

Of regaining my former athleticism

(Which I never really had)

By swimming at least a mile each day

Only to find myself exhausted after eight pool lengths

Or the lanes too crowded or the facility closed 

So abandoning the water I returned to the land

Swimming was meant to be a countermeasure

For my poorly chosen plan 

To lose weight and stop smoking and refrain from alcohol 

In order to enter a monastic life pattern 

Of prayer, reflection, and meditation

Just to find those forbidden fruits 

Singing a siren song

Too hard to ignore

I had hoped for success in that effort 

Because of my previous inability 

To read beginning in January

Last year’s 20 best books

Which I purchased all at once but they remain

On the nightstand beside my bed

Awaiting the renewal of my interest

But now I will immerse myself

With the help of a writing group

To author a book of poetry over the coming months

Perhaps one or two poems a day

Of which this is the first

Even though composing it has bored me

January 2019

What We Asked You

We asked you where we were going

On buses at night with our backpacks

And when would we come back

To the homes that sheltered us

But you said nothing

And you let us out in a world of tents

And we found our beds

Along with a thousand other children

And we asked you how long we would stay

And you said nothing

And we told you we had heard about 

Huddled masses yearning to breath free

And we asked you who would care for us now

With no caretakers to turn to like before

And you said nothing

And we told you we heard that any immigrant

Could come into your country and seek asylum

And you said, Sorry. We are overwhelmed.”

And we said “We heard it was a law.”

And after you finished from roaming throughout the earth, 

Going back and forth on it, you said

“That’s not what it means.”