The Way, the Truth, the Life

I got a strange robocall this week, saying Pastor, you need to urge your parishioners not to vote for Donald Trump because of his pornography problem, his problem with infidelity, that he does not have family values. It was some woman, a mother of 10 kids, who homeschools them all… Never heard of her before. Was all of this true? Or was it a ploy by someone to make sure that Trump didn’t do well in the caucus yesterday? Apparently, it worked, here in Kansas. But it’s hard to know what is truth and what is not, especially in this season of debates.

            Many people will tell you who to vote for. If you’re a Christian, they say, you’ll vote for this person. But let me tell you, it’s important that you first understand the overarching message of Christ’s word and teaching, and then vote in accordance. I’m never going to tell you who to vote for. It’s your job to come here and let the Word of God wash over you, transform your heart and mind… then go home and search scriptures on your own, and understand it’s about how we bow down to our God as the one and only, and how we treat our fellow humankind. All truth is from God. There is some truth in many things, but only God is fully truth. And at the heart of our beliefs is this: Jesus was and is the Son of God, not just some good role model. He died on a cross, in our place, for our sins, a death he did not deserve. And he was buried and he rose again. He came back to life. And he lives, still. He ascended or went up to heaven, where he is seated next to the Father. That is the heart of the Christian message. That is the Good News, what makes us different from other religions. That is the way, the truth and the life for us.

This week, I was thinking about all the conflict in the world, both at home and abroad, and I thought, what if the Lord has allowed all these differences in opinion, and culture, and language, and skin color, and classes, and education levels—just to see how we will get along with each other? Whether we will learn to coexist by wiping each other out, or by listening and getting along, respectfully. By learning what’s important to each other. By honoring the value of each other’s lives. By understanding how much we have in common. At the end of our lives, will he ask us, So, how’d you do? Did you learn to get along? Or were you fighting and bickering and finger pointing, all the time?

We could bully each other, as the politicians are doing. these days. Try to intimidate each other. Call each other names. I wonder what God thinks of that. It’s sad when people feel the need to go down into the gutter with someone, to get on their level. But that seems to be the way of the world.

For some time, now, TV has been filled with shows where people actually say what’s on their mind. There are no consequences, because it’s TV, not reality. We’re confused about what’s reality, and what’s TV. Reality shows are really very far from reality. Because you can’t just go out into the world and say whatever comes to your mind. God gives us a filter, called our conscience, and our brain, and hopefully we THINK before we speak. Because our words have consequences. Just as much as our actions do. I don’t see it anywhere in the Bible where it says, just blurt out whatever comes to mind.

Likewise, we can’t just assume we know what we believe, as followers of Christ. We’ve got to read scripture, for ourselves. Or listen to it, on CD or tape. Because it’s not the most easy thing to understand. Some things are straightforward. Others, are not. And we’ve got to listen or read a BUNCH of it… whole books of the Bible, at a time. To get the big picture. If we focus on one small part, one or two verses, we’re not going to get the the full intent. We may just affirm what it is that we already believe, on our own. Make God into our own image. Now that’s a dangerous prospect. I believe that if we read scripture, and it’s not challenging?? if it doesn’t stretch us, then we may not have not read enough. We need to keep reading.

And don’t take someone else’s word for it. Don’t just listen to someone on the radio, who tells you what you ought to believe. Read it for yourself, then make up your own mind. Or rather, let God make up your mind, for you. If you’re not convicted by it, if the Lord doesn’t tell you what you need to be doing more of, and less of, then you haven’t read enough. So keep reading. We’re never gonna know what it really means to believe and follow, and what the truth is, until we read it for ourselves. And we shouldn’t sit back and rely on what we read 5 or 10 or 20 years ago, because we have surely changed since then, and the Lord may wish to show us something different, this time around. There may yet be another way he wants to fine tune our hearts.

So, don’t grow complacent and let your mind be conformed to evangelists on TV and the radio; let it be conformed to the mind and heart of God, of Jesus. For he is our way, our truth and our life. Go to the source. And then when you hear and see these folks, you’ll be better prepared and armed to say, now that’s not quite right. Now that sounds about right, but this over here, this is just wacky. Become a better informed citizen of the kingdom of God. Spend as much time on that as you do, figuring out who you should vote for. And then you WILL know who best to vote for. You’ll possibly see how far away many of these folks are, from the Truth, even though they might say they are Christian, and of God.

This is why I don’t get too jazzed or upset about politics. It’s necessary, and we ought to be informed, active participants in the process. But so many times, the options we have, just come up so short. And why do they? Because, as we heard last week, the kingdom of God is not of this world. It’s up to us to seek and read God’s Word, to abide in it, to let it take root in our hearts. To understand that this, and things like Holy Communion are how God gives himself to us, through his Holy Spirit. That the Holy Spirit desires to affect, and infect us, so that we can receive it, and take it out into the world. We can’t be looking for the world to give us what we need, folks. For only Jesus is the way, the truth and the life. Amen.

Under the Influence

 Once Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, and he answered, ‘The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, “Look, here it is!” or “There it is!” For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.’--Luke 17:20-21

            It’s been five years ago that I sat on the steps in Miller Church and gave a sermon. A tornado had ripped through the town just south of them, the night before. Under the darkness of night, when it happened, it was only partly obvious what destruction had taken place. It was only in the light of a new day that it would become apparent, all the damage that had been done. I wanted, somehow, to comfort them, but also to impress upon them that something major had happened. Soon, they would drive over and see what had happened. It was probably going to be a shock to them. And it was going to take awhile before things got back to normal.

            Today feels a lot like that day. Only there are a few more miles in between us and Hesston, and Newton, for that matter. We have had a day or two to let the shock sink in. But tragedy has come near, and it is unsettling.

            Amazingly enough, it does fit quite well with the scripture for today. Jesus talks about the Kingdom of God. How it is among us, within us. The Kingdom of God came near when Jesus came to earth, a little baby boy, grew up, became a man, worked and served among us. He brought the Kingdom of God near. And when he left, ascended to heaven, he and the Father sent the Holy Spirit to keep being here, with us. Something miraculous happens, when the Holy Spirit becomes a part of us. We take the Kingdom of God and we spread it around. It grows like the mustard seed. It leavens the flour, like yeast.

We get the Kingdom of God inside of us to take out into the world, several ways. We come here, and we hear the scripture proclaimed. Hopefully it doesn’t just bounce off our minds and hearts. Hopefully it goes inside, and stays there. We receive Communion, and the blessed elements of bread and juice physically go inside us. We pray, and the Holy Spirit rises within us. We sing the music that teaches and reminds us of the awesome power and love of our God, and it goes inside our hearts.

            We go home, and hopefully we continue to receive the things of God—things that lift our hearts and encourage us, give us strength. We continue to read the Word, to pray, to listen to music that glorifies God. The Kingdom of God is within us. And we carry that out into the world, and we share it with others in how we love, in how we conduct ourselves, what we say to people… and we become the yeast that leavens the flour and makes it rise. We become the one little mustard seed that ends up growing branches for others to rest in.

But you see, we’ve got to be intentional about placing the Kingdom of God there, inside us, in the first place. You eat peas and carrots, and you’re going to be full of them. You drink pop, and you’re going to be filled with that. Whatever you ingest on a regular basis—whatever crosses the path to your heart and your brain—this is the Kingdom that is within you.

            You could say that whatever you ingest on a regular basis—spiritually, mentally, emotionally, even physically--becomes what you are under the influence of. So the question today is, “What are you under the influence of?” Whatever we regularly feed our hearts and minds can cause us to do things, say things, act in certain ways. 

When they went to the trailer home of the man who decided to go up the highway from Newton to Hesston with a couple of guns this week, they found a few things lying around, that we can guess he was under the influence of, at the time: An empty bottle of liquor. The case for a Special Ops video game, which probably meant he was, in his mind, visually going through rooms or places with guns, and mowing down people indiscriminately, before he actually went out and did that. We also know there was loud music playing, when law enforcement got to the site. I’m going to guess it wasn’t the kind of music that makes you feel soft-hearted and tender. I’m going to guess it had some rather aggressive music and words. I don’t know. I could be wrong. But I know that, at times, I’ve been under the influence of music that made my mind, my mood, go places that weren’t positive and helpful. Music is a powerful, powerful thing. It can be like a mind-altering drug.

            I’ve heard from a number of people that video games don’t cause folks to go out and shoot people. But when you look at what this man was under the influence of—alcohol, violence, aggression anger-- coupled with the trigger of new legal problems, it appears that everything worked together quite negatively, like a toxic cocktail, and provided the fuel for him to drive back to work and do the unthinkable.

Whatever you are under the influence of, will determine your attitude, your mood, even your actions. It will determine how you see things that happen to you, affect your whole perspective on life.  Is it good? Is it bad? Will it get any better??

Jesus says the Kingdom of God is not of this world. That is why we have to receive it, and take it OUT into the world.

            On the other hand… on the other hand, what were some of the people under the influence of, who were victims? Did you see some of the video that was taken, on Friday? A young man shot four times, twice in the chest, who said it was a God thing that he was still alive. One of those bullets could have easily hit his heart. Instead of anger for the man who shot him, he had sadness. It broke his heart, he said, to think that this was the only thing that the shooter thought he could do to make things better. Instead of his heart being pierced by his attacker, it was broken. It’s easy to see how the Kingdom of God was within this young man, who was shot. "God should be in the spotlight."

            Time and time again, I listened to interviews of the people who had been injured. They all attributed their survival to divine intervention. The grace of God. Nothing short of a miracle. And so for the whole world to see--because it did make national, even international news--the Kingdom of God was near, there in Hesston, in the hearts and minds of those who pointed to their God as the reason for their survival. True, a few did not make it. But it could’ve been so many more.

            So it all comes down to this, on this day: we’ve got to decide what we’re going to be under the influence of. We have a choice, what we put into our bodies, our hearts, our minds. We have a choice, what we will live under the influence of. And what we will take out, into the world, to give to others.

Not a Drop of Holiness Gone

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ktsPuZvH-rQ 

Week 4

Advent 2015

Luke 1:39-56

Not a drop of holiness gone

Sing: Holy Spirit you are welcome here, come flood this place and fill the atmosphere. Your glory, Lord is what our hearts long for, to be overcome by your presence, Lord. Your presence, Lord.

When I was about 15 years old and first learning to drive a car—and my car was just a year younger than me, a 1966 beige Plymouth Valiant, 6-speed, with only about 60,000 miles on it, and some of the hoses were still original—

One morning in the fall, it was foggy. And I pulled my lights on, the little metal rod on the dash. And I drove across town to high school, and parked in the parking lot. And at the end of the day, I went out and what do you suppose happened? My car wouldn’t start. No lights, no nothing.

And this was in the days before cell phones, so I had to go back into school, and use an office phone to call Mom and tell her I’d done something careless—left my car lights on, all day. And my dad was at work, out on some train between here and Dodge City. And mom had one of her beauty shop customers under the dryer, and another in the shampoo chair.

So she called our neighbor across the street, who was retired, Howard Grant. And he came to the high school parking lot with his car. He was not especially a fun, lighthearted fellow. He was usually pretty grouchy. But he came, and pulled his car up close to mine, and popped both car hoods, and started his car engine. And he put one end of a jumper cable like this on his car battery, and the other end to mine. And a second cable to his engine, and another to metal close to my battery, to ground the connection. At least that’s how I remember it.

And we waited awhile, and he revved his engine accelerator. (VROOM!) and then Howard said, okay, get in your car and try to start it. And it took awhile, me trying several times, because the battery was completely drained. But finally, I got in, and this time, it turned over. Started.

And Howard said, Now, keep it going. Don’t turn off your engine. And we stayed there, me in the driver’s seat, he overlooking things, and I probably revved the accelerator some.

And then, both cars still running, he carefully took one cable off our engines, and then the other, making sure the cables didn’t touch. Or there would be this spark, because there was still so much electricity, so much power, flowing through them.

And even though I was afraid my engine might die again, it didn’t, and Howard said, Now, don’t turn off your engine. Keep it going. Drive around for awhile, and don’t turn it off when you get home. Let it run awhile, until your battery is fully charged. And if you get up in the morning and need another charge, just call me. (I knew he probably didn’t want to get up out of bed to do this, but at least he offered.)

And I was so happy that Howard had come to rescue me, this gruff old neighbor man. He probably wasn’t that old, looking back; I was just that young, at the time. I think I was so relieved not to be stranded anymore that I threw my arms around him and gave him a big hug.

(PAUSE)

Do you remember last week, when I talked about the holiness of Jesus, and how the scribes of the Pharisees were concerned he would be made less holy because he was in the presence of a big group of known sinners, eating food that was unholy because they’d prepared it, bought it, cooked it, in unholy pots and pans, and served it on unholy tables, in unholy dishes?

They were worried because that’s what they believed would happen to them if they did the same thing. They’d also become unholy. And even people who’d been healed of something by Jesus, they were considered sinners by these same Jews, because if you’d been sick with something big and bad, that meant you were a sinner, because people who were holy weren’t born with a defect, had no need to be healed. We know that now to not be true, but’s what people believed in Jesus’ time. If you’d been healed of something by Jesus, you surely had been a sinner to have the need to be healed in the first place.

And we decided what, last week? That the holiness in Jesus was so powerful that it didn’t matter how many sinners touched him, it was never gonna take away any of his holiness. Amen??

In fact… in fact… his holiness was gonna do what? It was gonna rub off on the people he was around! Like a spark between two cars, connected by battery cables. BOOM! Jesus’ holiness was gonna spark something in other people. HIS holiness would become THEIR holiness.

And it began right there in Mary’s womb, before he was even born. Did you catch that, in the scripture today? All these people around him, we read in scripture, BOOM! Are suddenly filled with the Holy Spirit. Why? Because the Son of God was near! He is coming, and the holiness in him is so powerful that it sends a current of holiness through all these people—

Through Elizabeth, when she hears his mother Mary’s voice, and then the child in Elizabeth’s womb leaps with joy! John, not even born yet, is also filled with the Holy Spirit, as the angel  of the Lord, a holy messenger from God, told his father, Zechariah.

And Zechariah will be filled with the Holy Spirit as he speaks the prophecy about what his son John will do, in regards to the One who was to come. (Read v. 67-79)

There were all these sparks, these power surges of the Holy Spirit going on, all around, because this child, this baby was coming, and he is the Son of God, conceived by the Holy Spirit.

And John, when he becomes a young man, tells everyone he has come to baptize a baptism of repentance, but Jesus has come to baptize with what? With water and the Spirit. The Holy Spirit… and so do you see what happens? There are more sparks, more power surges, and Jesus physically brushes up against people, and they are HEALED. They are HEALED. Amen??

And not an ounce, not an OUNCE of his holiness is lost. He may feel it go out from him, as with the woman who had the bleeding problem, who couldn’t stop hemorrhaging, who reached out just to barely touch the hem of his robe. He felt something go out from him, but he didn’t LOSE any holiness. It goes OUT, and it makes OTHERS more holy. Do you see??

And it STILL does, even though his body is not physically here, because he LEFT us, he SENT us, his Holy Spirit… to continue to BE here with us all. And we only need to REACH OUT, and be CONNECTED with him, to awaken our souls, which once were dead as a doornail, as dead as my old Plymouth Valiant that had sat in the parking lot all day, with the lights on.

You see, Jesus pulls up ALONGSIDE US, and opens the hood on our heart, our little motor that purrs, and he connects himself to us. And after the awhile, the engines of our souls just begin to turn over, to finally start the way they were always meant to, because there was really no life there, before. And before long, something begins to spark, and our hearts are jumpstarted, why? Because our batteries are finally empowered and emboldened with the Holy Spirit.

We NEED NOT be afraid of losing the holiness that he has given us IF…. IF we have drawn sufficient power from him, and if we remain CLOSE to him, and ensure we have a constant, steady stream of power that flows from him, through us. And this enables us to sit among the worst of sinners, eat unholy food with them at unholy tables on unholy dishes… IF we have been fully charged by God’s Holy Spirit first, and REMAIN with him, in his Almighty Presence, and RETURN to him, time and time again, our spiritual batteries ALWAYS charged and ready to go. AMEN? Amen.

Let us pray. Lord, today we wish to receive the power of your Holy Spirit. Charge or recharge us, Lord, so we can take your holiness and share it with others. This is a POWERFUL thing, Lord. Not just in our imagination. And we cannot get it any other way, from any other source or person. Thanks for infusing us with your Spirit. Thanks for allowing us to take it and share it with others. It is so much of who you are that even as you were being conceived by the Holy Spirit, as you were growing in your mother’s womb, others around you were also being filled with the Holy Spirit. Help us not to forget that is so much a part of who you are, and you have given it to us, as well, if only we ask and trust and return to you, our ultimate power source. Amen.

Holy Conversations

I was going to talk more about sanctification today—the process whereby God makes us more holy, after we come to know and accept his son, Jesus, as our personal savior. But instead, I want to talk about some “holy conversations” that I was blessed to be a part of, on our train trip to Chicago. I think we will see, along the way, how God is at work in each of our lives—wooing us to come follow him… justifying us, as we realize we have sinned and are in need of his forgiveness… sanctifying us, as he uses others around us to make us more holy… as he uses others to give us the opportunity to love him and his people more fully.

I only saw her through the reflection of the train window. She was seated in front of me, an older woman with short, gray hair. She began making comments when I was talking to Dakota about some of the buildings and things we were seeing along the way. Beautiful churches, and such. I could only see her reflection, as she spoke. And before I knew it, I was sharing photos of other churches in the area, on my iPhone, in between the space between the train window and the seat between us.          

Eventually, she moved forward and looked back, and we began talking about the things of God. She had an understanding of scripture that one usually receives when they have taken a course in theology… that scholars believe there has likely been a weaving together of writers in Genesis, who have contributed two stories of creation—one, focused on the creation of the universe, the other, focused on the creation of humankind. 

There was a connection there, between us… she was a member of the Free Methodist Church, which meant that women didn’t wear jewelry. She would paint pants on a photo of a doctor doing surgery out in the middle of Africa, so his bare legs wouldn’t show, in their denominational newsletter… because they were so modest. She also was a fan of the writer and theologian Henri Nouwen. I told her, you like Nouwen, you should read Thomas Merton. And Brennan Manning. And finally, she wrote her name and contact info on a piece of paper, and handed it to me between the window and the seatback. She wanted me to let her know if there were other books she ought to read. Later, Dakota would say, I knew you were gonna talk to her for, like an hour, when you began.

And then there was the younger woman sitting behind me, who was softly singing this song that sounded so familiar. I’ll try to sing it for you:

My God is awesome,

he can move a mountain,

keep me from the valley,

hide me from the rain.

My God is awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome.

She had her hair shaved on one side, dyed bright pink, and long, on the other. She was sitting across from her elderly parents, who had trouble smiling. At first, I thought it was because they were overhearing the conversation I was having with the woman in front of me… that they didn’t agree with, or approve of something I’d said. How often do we think that others’ actions are because of us, and they’re not? Amen?!

I talked to the young woman a bit about the song she was singing. Wanted to break out in song, there on the train, with her… and for some reason, asked if she knew another song I’d heard one afternoon in the hospital cafeteria. “Take me back, take me back dear Lord, to the place where I first received.” I hadn’t gotten a few measures into the song, when she started singing it with me. She got teary, said it was one of the most meaningful songs in her life.

She was from Liberal, Kansas, her parents, from Garden City. We saw them again, when we got to the waiting room at the train station, headed home. Oh my! We all said. How did we do this? Come to Chicago the same day, go back, the same day. They wondered that we would stay exactly the same length of time. Why were we there? They asked. For sightseeing, I said. Why had they come to Chicago? A celebration of life. Code name for funeral. But they said it twice, because they wanted us to know they had HOPE. Oh, I said… was this for family? Yes. For a woman. A niece, a sister? I asked. No, it was their daughter. Their oldest. Oh my, I said. Was it expected? Yes, she had battled cancer for 20-some years. She was only 52. I went over and asked the mother if I could give her a hug. Later, Dakota and I marveled that they had also put their luggage in the locker right next to ours. We were all supposed to be there, on both those trains, coming and going.

My God is awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome…

Before this, a man with dark, longish hair, ruddy complexion, sat down next to us in the waiting room. He pulled out a can of beer, and a red cup. He was talking to himself. He opened the can, poured it into the cup, and drank it straight down, all the while, talking. Then he opened the second can, poured it into the cup, and drank it right down, too. He was telling us that he had been on the train for two days, already. To get to Alabama, if I remember, he had to go all the way up to the northeast, down the east coast, and back west, to Alabama. He was heading home to California. Four days it took him, to reach his girlfriend, who was sick. If he’d flown, it would’ve only been something like four HOURS. I’m going to guess he had met her online. He was upset she hadn’t picked him up at the train station. It was because she had been in the ICU. But she was doing better. He just needed someone to listen to him. He was lonely.

My God is awesome
Heals me when I'm broken
Gives strength where I've been weakened
Forever He will reign

My God is awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome

And then, we got up to go eat dinner in the dining car, and as some of you know, they will often put you with other people so you make a fuller table. We were sitting down, reading the menu, when an older man of slight build came in. He wanted to eat by himself at the next table, but the dining car attendant, a woman, would not have it. So he sat down with us, right next to me. He was wearing old, good clothes… rather eccentric looking. We waited for his story to unfold. He was staying in a sleeper car. Said he had not worked a day in his life, as far as he was concerned, because what he had done hadn’t been work at all. I slowly pried it out of him—he was a composer, had written some songs of note. Would we know any of them? Do you like Christmas music? He asked. Yes, we said. Do you know “Santa Baby?”

You wrote that? We asked. Yes, he said. The music. He knew all kinds of people—Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley, Eartha Kitt. But most of his contacts had died. Santa Baby only really became extremely popular when Madonna recorded it, back in the ‘80s. Then, it had taken off, like wildfire. His daughter was in charge of the royalties and licensing for the song.

He wanted to know about us. Eventually he found out I was a pastor, had been a writer. Before I knew it, I was summarizing a sermon for him, at his request, that I had written last time I was in Chicago, about the beacon lights on a tower, and the presence of God in our lives. Sometimes the clouds are so thick in our lives, we cannot see him anymore, and doubt he was ever there, in the first place, even though we have seen him in the past. The man wasn’t sure about heaven. I said, we will know it’s true, someday, when we get there. He told us about a time travel story he was working on, hoping to see it become a movie, one day. He would invite our whole family to the opening, if it happened, before he died. He talked about a father who wanted him to be a pianist instead of a composer because there was more money in it. It is a sad thing, he said, not to have your father’s approval.

My God is awesome
Savior of the whole world
Giver of salvation
By His stripes I am healed

My God is awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome

And then there was the man two seats behind us, who I only discovered after the train stopped just beyond Kansas City’s Union Station, and the lights and power went out. Suddenly we could hear people talk, instead of the noise from the engine. He was worried his wife would be waiting at the station way ahead of time, because we were running late. He was headed to Needles, California. He had no cell phone to call her. So I let him borrow ours. He shared that he had been in Michigan, not by his own choice, but because he got thrown into jail for not paying child support. He’d been there, the past three months.

The clothes he was wearing were from a mission. There, he’d met a kind chaplain. The Michigan jacket was going to become a bed for his dog when he got home. Even thought it kept him warm, now, his time in Michigan would not be something he wanted to be reminded of, later.

He was diabetic, and needed something to eat. A man across the aisle threw a rice krispy treat his way. I found some pretzels and a bottle of water. I stood and listened to him tell his story. He had little, to no money. I gave him some extra, that I had from my trip. He was grateful, said, you didn ‘t have to do that. I said, I did—I’m a pastor. He threw his arms around me, told me about going to church at the mission, about a Bible he was carrying in his bag. God was providing for him, through his people. God was wooing him to him. (Prevenient grace, did you get that?)

My God is awesome
Today I am forgiven
His grace is why I'm living
Praise His holy name

My God is awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome

My God is awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome

The End... or just the Beginning?

Mark 13:24-37

Advent 1

Have you ever noticed, how the beginning of one thing is often the end of another? The end of a pregnancy, if all goes well, is often the birth of a healthy newborn baby. And when that child is about 4 or 5, they will leave their parents’ side, and go to school for the first time. The end of their preschool years marks the beginning of the school years, a launching out into the world. We tend to realize the end of one thing is another, when we are in the in-between stage. For instance, next month my oldest son will graduate from college. He will mark the end of a season at Emporia State. And something new will happen… hopefully! He will get a job and find something to do, that he enjoys. Life is a series of endings and new beginnings, over and over.

It may seem strange to begin Advent season by talking about the end of the world, here in scripture… UNTIL we remember that the end of one thing signals the beginning of another. You see, the whole world was awaiting the birth of a king, when Jesus was born. They had been in this in-between time, waiting centuries… and finally, he came. Only, it didn’t happen in the way they imagined. Nor in the role they imagined.

He didn’t come to save them from temporary things, but rather, the eternal. He didn’t burst on the scene, determined to topple the throne. He didn’t plan a coup or a war. He came to change the course of history in an eternal, spiritual way. But oh, how they’d been waiting for something so different.

When we are stuck in between… when one thing has ended and we’re waiting on the next thing to begin, how hard is it to sit and wait? It can be extremely difficult, amen? Especially if the thing we’re leaving is something that was comfortable… and we can’t imagine what this new reality will be.

When we are in between times, we call this a period of liminality. Liminality. And here, there can be much dis-ease, discomfort. But the in-between times can be opportunities for us to truly count on God. Because we often find we have very little control over what’s happening. We may have done so much to try to hurry things up and get through this uncomfortable time, and in the end it amounts to not much more than spinning our wheels. That’s when we finally just throw up our hands and say, “Okay God, I give up. I can’t seem to make this happen on my own. I need you to intercede on my behalf. I need something from you to give me hope, that lets me know I won’t always be in this place.” That’s called surrender!

So after pouring our hearts out to God, we wait and watch. And sometimes, we will see God move. Advent is a season of stopping, watching, and listening… because something is about to happen!

We remember that all of creation was waiting for a Savior, and he did finally come. Advent also reminds that Christ has died, Christ is risen, and Christ WILL come again! Once more, we are here, waiting for a Savior who will come and make things right. To bring justice that falls down like rain. For those of us who are concerned about the end of times, who are fearful of what is to come, we remember that someone is looking forward to this. In Revelation chapter 6, we read that the Christian martyrs, at this moment, are under the altar in heaven, crying out for justice. They are waiting on the Lord to avenge their unjust deaths.

We know that the end of the world, which is also called Day of the Lord, will be marked by three things, according to Christ. First, there would be wars. “And they shall hate one another, and provoke each other to fight.” That’s from a book called Second Baruch, typically not found in our Protestant Bibles, but found in something called the Apocrypha. The second thing is that there will be a darkening of the sun and moon. And the third is that the Jews will gather back to Palestine, from the four corners of the earth.

There are dozens of evangelists who make it their business to interpret the prophecies of the Bible, pointing to a time that has yet to come. And still, we know that some of the things Jesus prophesied, or foretold, happened shortly after he died—wars, earthquakes, famines. The Temple was destroyed… people were killed. It looked like the end. But it wasn’t.

Then a thousand years later, in 1343, the bubonic plague happened. Twenty-five million people in Europe died, as a result. But it still wasn’t the end. Surely there have been many times since then, when people have wondered, is this the end? Someone has estimated that about 170 million people have been killed for political reasons. And yet, it has not been the end, as we know it.

We hear words like “the rapture,” and that conjures up images of being caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. This can be found in 1 Thessalonians 4:16. And while movies like the recent one starring Nicholas Cage put forth this idea as a very real possibility, if we study eschatology, or end times theology, we see that for many centuries the term rapture simply referred to Christ’s final resurrection in general, That this belief that a group of people would be “left behind” on earth for an extended period of time was a school of thought that probably only came about in the last couple of centuries. The idea about a pretribulation rapture didn’t come about until somewhere between the 1600s and 1800s. So while the Left Behind series of books or movies may have given people a sense of urgency and helped draw them to the Lord, convincing them of their need for salvation, this is only one theory about how the end of the world will happen. We need to be cautious about accepting such things as fact. Just because a movie or TV show books itself as Christian doesn’t mean it’s totally accurate. They may be good guesses. But if Jesus himself didn’t know the hour or the day he was coming, then how can any of us say we can know anything for certain, except that it will happen? Amen??

What are other signs of Christ’s second return? We know that people will be tempted to fall for false messiahs. The books of First and Second John talk about something called the antichrist. Maybe that word sounds familiar, but what does scripture actually have to say about this?

1 John 2.18 says: Children, it is the last hour! As you have heard that antichrist is coming, so now MANY antichrists have come. From this we know that it is the last hour. (It seemed like Jesus was coming back, very soon after he ascended to the throne in heaven. And there was not just one antichrist, but many.)

1 John 2.22 says: Who is the liar but the one who denies that Jesus is the Christ? THIS is the antichrist, the one who denies the Father and the Son.

1 John 4.3 says: And every spirit that does not confess Jesus is NOT from God. And THIS is the spirit of the antichrist, of which you have heard that it is coming; and now it is already in the world. (The antichrists are those who would say that Jesus was not divine. He was merely a human, a good model for living, perhaps.)

2 John 1.7 says: Many deceivers have gone out into the world, those who do not confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh; any such person is the deceiver and the antichrist! (You know, in this specific case, some of our neighbors could be seen as antichrists. Many people throughout time could be legitimately called “antichrists,” if they didn’t believe that Jesus was fully God and fully man.)

Jesus says, "This generation will not pass away until all these things take place." And if we take that scripture literally, we know that they did. People in Jesus’ time were looking for him to come back while they were still alive.. And still, we hear Jesus saying to us, just “Be ready.” Did he say, I want you to stand around and try to figure this out, and be all anxious about it? No.

But if we conduct our lives in light of his eventual return, then perhaps we will live a holier life. Be bolder about sharing our testimonies with others. And keep a lighter touch on the things of this world, knowing that someday, all things will pass away.

Maybe it will keep some of us from fighting over a $5 Barbie doll on Black Friday. Maybe we’ll worry less about how our 401k plans are doing. Maybe we’ll be less affected by all the hostility in the world, if we remembered that someday Christ will come again and bring justice to the world.

We can be sure that our master has gone to a far country, and has left us behind to take care of this world. To take care of his church. And his people. He’s given us the authority to work on his behalf.

So let us be alert and eager, and ready, for whenever Christ returns, however he comes. Let us not be afraid of the time. But let us live each day in such a way that he will be satisfied with whatever we’ve done. Like the fig tree blossoming, something is about to burst forth. The end of the world, as we know it, will be the beginning of a new heaven and a new earth. The end of one thing will be the beginning of another. And it will be glorious, indeed!

More than Metanoia

Mark 1:1-8

Advent B, Week 2

 

Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord… prepare ye the way of the Lord.

On Friday, Shayne from Johnson Music Center came to Pleasant Grove Church to reconnect some microphone wires to a soundboard at the back of the sanctuary. There was a mess of wires, unused, that he cleaned out, in the process. Hopefully, it will make things easier to use, be more clean, more straightforward. We’re set up for about six or seven mics up front. If we need more, he’ll come back and add more in. At some point, we might need them.

            Shayne talked to me while he worked. He started asking if I remembered some Christian musician from the 1980s… I said, Yeah, I probably do! Since that was an era I really paid attention to who was who. He said there was this guy named Phil Keaggy who played the guitar, one of the top guitarists in the world. Even Eric Clapton has reportedly said he’s the best. Yes, I said, I remember him. In fact, I interviewed him over the phone for a magazine article, once. Anyhow, Shayne and his band from church are opening for Phil Keaggy when he comes to the McPherson Opera House in mid-January. They’re going to be Phil’s OPENING ACT.

Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord… prepare ye the way of the Lord.

            All this past week, and some before, there’s been something going on next door to the parsonage. Have you noticed? They’ve been measuring and clearing the ground, making things level so they could dig for the footings on a new addition to the north of Korey and Charity Kincaid’s house. After they leveled off the ground, they dug deep holes to put in the forms so they could pour concrete. A little cold for pouring concrete, but they did it… And soon, there’ll be a frame going up. They’ll be building on the foundation.

The Gospel of Mark begins in an unexpected way. I’ve just read some of it for you. There’s no angel coming to Mary or Joseph here, no talk about the baby Jesus’ birth. No stable, no shepherds. Just some old, dry words from a wild and lonely prophet who’s talking about another strange voice that will come someday, calling out in the middle of the wilderness.

No prophetic voice had been heard, in a long time. In fact, it had been 300 years. That’s a long time to wait, don’t you think? The people were being held in captivity, hostages in a strange land. Was there anything left to hope for? they wondered. Has God stopped sending us prophets because He has nothing left to say? But then they hear that God is sending My messenger. My messenger, he says.

Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord… prepare ye the way of the Lord.

 (Isaiah 40:3) Someone is building up a great road for the arrival of a majestic king. Someone is filling in the holes, and knocking down the hills that are in the way.

Maybe for us, today, the real preparation is happening in our hearts. God moves in our lives, and a road is built. Building a road out here (finger pointing outward), building a road in here (heart): both activities are costly. Both involve lots of problems. Both require an expert engineer.

Baptism wasn’t something new in the life of the Jewish community. But it wasn’t called that, necessarily. It was more of a ceremonial immersion. Typically, the only people who went into the water and were covered up in it, completely, were Gentiles, or non-Jews who wanted to become Jewish.

In John’s day, if a Jew submitted to baptism they were essentially saying, “I confess that I am just as far away from God as a Gentile, and I need to get right with Him.” Maybe today, some of us are feeling like we are far away from God. That we need to get right with him.

So John prepares the way by baptizing—offering a ceremonial washing that allows people to confess their sin and show their repentance, or sorrow. The word for repentance in Hebrew is metanoia. A water baptism is outward and visible; it shows that something is going on inside of us, that can’t be seen.

John was not the prophet Elijah, but he sure looked like him—wild and lonely, wearing camel’s hair and a leather belt, boldly calling all of Israel to repentance. And yet, he says he’s not worthy of bending down and untying the sandals of the one who will come after him—and we know he’s talking about Jesus. In John’s day, it was said that a teacher might require his followers to do just about anything, except this: they couldn’t make their followers or students take off their sandals. They could ask for anything but that.

The Babylonian Talmud, Ketuboth 96a: “All services which a slave does for his master, a pupil should do for his teacher, with the exception of undoing his shoes.”

This person who is coming--this Messiah—is going to bring a baptism that is far greater than just repentance and water: it involves an immersion in the Holy Spirit. Can you imagine what it must be like to be dipped completely in the same life force that came upon Jesus at his own water baptism and empowered him to live out his ministry on earth as God’s Son?  This is something far greater than mere repentance, or turning. So much more than metanoia. Something life-changing is going on, inside whoever chooses to receive the Holy Spirit baptism that Jesus is bringing.

            Today, we remember our own need for baptism, for metanoia AND the Holy Spirit.  We see that John is the priest, the minister, the pastor. He proclaims and baptizes. In response, the people repent. God forgives. And Christ will soon come, bringing this new baptism with the Holy Spirit.

Advent 3--Unworthy, but not Unloved

John 1:6-8, 19-28

About this time of year, a memory flashes across my mind of a time when I sat in front of the Christmas tree with my dad, down in his den. This was a long room in the basement, next to my mom’s beauty shop. At one end was dad’s stereo setup, with the record player, four big speakers. He loved music. And each year he would string up Christmas lights on the ceiling in the shape of a big T, and wrap the lights in silver garland. We would sometimes sit down there, he and I, watching all the Christmas lights and listening to Christmas music.

And there, one evening, I dared to ask my dad a question. I said, “Dad, what were Christmases like, when you were a kid?” And he began explaining that there wasn’t ever much, in the way of presents. It was the Great Depression, and he and his brother were lucky to get a fresh orange or apple in their stocking, with a couple of pieces of ribbon candy.

But one Christmas, he said, his dad came to them with something special. He gives them a handful of crude little metal soldiers, made by his own hands. Apparently he melted down one of his guns to get the metal. And he says, “Boys, I’m sorry,” and that was all Dad could say to me, at first.

“Boys, I’m sorry.” And as my dad told me this story, there was a catch in his voice. “Boys, I’m sorry, but this is all I have to give you this Christmas.” And I looked over, and in the twinkle of the colored lights, I could see he had tears running down his cheek. Now I don’t have the foggiest idea what I got that Christmas, but I will never remember that night, when my dad let me peek inside his heart a little.

Tiny handmade soldiers, made out of love and desperation.  It was a gift that, I imagine, cost my grandfather dearly. Not in terms of money, but in terms of something he valued. Because, you see, this was a man who had lived off the land for about 20 years, hunting and fishing and trapping up next to the Great Divide in Colorado. A gun would have been his closest companion. A gun would have protected him at night, put food in his belly, given him the means to trade for supplies. Maybe he’d had that gun since he was a young man. Maybe his own father had given it to him. No doubt, it was a great sacrifice to melt it down and make a few toy soldiers for his sons… but he did it, because he loved them so. Not because they necessarily deserved it, but because he simply loved them.

Have you ever received a gift you didn’t deserve, and couldn’t possibly earn, because it cost the giver so much?

This time of year, when we get to questioning who has more presents, or if we need to get more, so someone doesn’t feel slighted or unloved, we are reminded that there was this gift offered to each of us that we can’t ever possibly deserve or earn, that cost someone so very much. And that gift was the Christ child. The Christ child comes to us each and every year as a reminder of God’s ever-present gift of salvation, and it’s all wrapped up in love. He doesn’t give his Son to us and then demand we accept him. He doesn’t offer this gift because he wants to punish us. He does it because he loves us.

And to do so, cost him his only Son. It cost him everything. The Son he sent in love would one day die for us. And there was never anything we could do to be worthy of that. Nothing we could do to deserve that. We are children who have no idea how much this gift cost our Father. We are unworthy, but we are so very loved and treasured.

John the Baptist got it right, when he says “I am not worthy.” He wasn’t worthy to be Christ’s servant, but that’s exactly the place and the role God gave him. John knew and admitted he wasn’t the Messiah. He could have claimed to be. He could have just agreed with the people who thought he was the Prophet or Elijah. But he was full of humility and gratitude. He didn’t think he was entitled to have people bow down and worship him. His job was to point to the Son, the One who would come.

He was filled with humility. And this is something we all need to have, as followers of Christ. Not to think better of ourselves than others. Not to think others are any less deserving of God’s blessings, for whatever reason. If we look long and hard enough, all of us will admit we have been blessed at times when we didn’t deserve it.

Christ comes to us in the form of a baby this time of year, and if we will be honest, we will admit that none of us truly deserves this. Not really. Christ will come again, one day, to set the world straight and bring his perfect justice, and still, we won’t deserve it. But it was never a question of our deserving or earning it. It was always question of “why God?” Why God. Why did God choose to give us, his children, such a priceless gift? Something that meant the world to him? Simply because he loved us so very much. And he still does.

You see, he makes a supreme sacrifice because we are of immense worth to him. You, me, the people you’re sitting by, the people you pass on your way to work. The people who drive by you on the highway like you’re standing still. The ones whose children are on the angel trees this time of year. We all are of immense value to him. His love knows no bounds.

            So if you’re wondering whether you’re loved this Christmas season, look no farther than the nativity… where a baby lays in the manger. Don’t count the number of gifts under your tree, the number of Christmas cards that come. Count all that it cost your heavenly Father—his only, precious Son.

George Ablah: High risk, high reward

I received word this evening that George Ablah of Wichita had died. Years ago, when I was an editor for the Wichita Register magazine, I interviewed him; in a strange turn of events, the feature never ran.  If it were to appear in print, I would take more time to do some fine editing/rewriting. However, as it stands, I think the details about this gentleman's fascinating life are worth sharing and preserving. Thanks go to George's son, Jeff, for filling in many of the details.--KB

George Ablah

High risks, big reward

 

 

With George Ablah, what you see is what you get. The owner of Ablah Enterprises, he’s a freewheeler who can’t stand restraints. He typically won’t wear a suit and tie. And at a time when most people of his business stature won’t leave home without their Blackberries, he remains attached to a singular piece of paper. Ablah carries one around in his pocket, updating it constantly and filling both sides with everything he needs at his fingertips, highlighting what’s most important in several bright colors. 

At 16, he owned a gas station and a liquor store, and had traveled back and forth to Chicago to make real estate transactions. He did a stint at KU and WSU, but all the business acumen he would need was either already in his gut, or would be learned by trial and error. Along the way he learned perseverance, the importance of continuing, despite the odds. Ablah nearly died at 20 while working on a construction crew. A house jack he was manning snapped and hit him in the head. As a result, he lost the hearing in one ear. It affected his vision. But he’s never let either inconvenience stand in his way.

      The eldest son, he left his father’s business, Ablah Hotel & Supply, to strike out on his own. The company made everything from coffee mugs to dinner tables to restaurant floor plans. George worked until 2 and 3 a.m., drawing up designs. For a time, he and his wife lived with their young family in a College Hill duplex shared by his father and uncle’s families.

      With his wife, Virginia, working at his side for often six days a week, Ablah built a real estate and oil investment business that spans almost fifty years and every major city in the United States. There’s probably no metropolitan area in America that Ablah hasn’t considered a piece of property in. At 78, he’s got no plans of slowing down. Currently, he’s doing business in Memphis, North Carolina, Texas and Arkansas.

      By all newspaper accounts, Ablah seems to swoop in, quickly assess a property, snatch it up and swoop back out again, confidently decisive, holding onto the land or buildings only long enough to turn a profit. He is a true entrepreneur, a risk taker and a gambler. When others would balk at property based on the fact it’s one hundred percent vacant, Ablah sees clear potential, and buys it without a second thought.

      And his interests are diverse. Aside from oil and real estate, he’s had his hands in medical supply, steel, health care, computer software, restaurants and more. He goes to Las Vegas once a month, whether he needs it or not. And in his typically larger-than-life fashion, he’s managed to win $1 million at the table in one sitting.

      Time is one’s most valued commodity, he tells his grown children and those fortunate enough to hear his twelve steps for business and life. One way he saves time is through an uncanny ability of quickly scanning information to determine if a piece of property is worth pursuing.

      It was thirty years ago that Ablah bought Chrysler Realty with Charles Koch, dba ABKO. Ablah, realizing it would take him a year to visit two of the six hundred car dealerships each day, didn’t wait on his personal surveys or the written ones before he signed on the dotted line. Time was of the essence. Doing business as usual with a gentleman’s agreement, he took the word of the sellers that everything regarding the multi-million dollar holding was as it should be.

      Personally involved in more than $2 billion in real estate transactions, Ablah has never been in a lawsuit, a testimony to his personal ethics. While others burn bridges behind them, he knows he can look at himself in the mirror each morning. He also knows he can go back to the same people, over and over, and they’ll be happy to do business with him again. Perhaps another reason for this is that he tries to see things from the other side. Quite literally, he reads contracts from both sides of the table to make sure they’re fair, rising from his chair to sit on the other side of the table to look things over to see if he’d be comfortable doing business with himself.

      Locally, Ablah owned much of the land from Rock Road north of 29^th Street. He built Northrock Theatres and the bowling alley, Jimmie’s Diner, and the five-story building at 29th and Rock where Wendy’s sits. “He built that on spec,” his son, Jeff, says of the latter in amazement. “At the time, there was nothing there. I remember, because I was out hunting in the field across from it, where Walmart is, now.”

      Ablah donated land to the city for the K-96 Expressway with the stipulation that construction begin in 1992. Thus, commuters on the north end of Wichita have been able to fly to their workplaces every day for years, while those who work farther south still await the Kellogg flyover completion.

      Time is of the essence. Ablah starts his workday at 5 a.m. And every morning at 11:25, like clockwork he walks down his office hallway and offers to buy lunch for anyone who will join him at his big heart-shaped desk, and chat. He knows all about relationships. The loyal friendships he’s made throughout his life have helped carry him through any rough patches. Because even the best gambler runs out of luck sometimes. 

      And the true measure of any person in any setting is how they perform when things aren’t going their way. “When most would fold up their tent and say, ‘I’m done,’ he kept going,” says son Jeff, who works in the family business in investments. (Ablah has another son who also works at Ablah Enterprises and focuses on oil.)

      Each time, Ablah has come back, successful once again. Jeff remembers the day his dad “lost a huge deal, and went on with his normal day. ‘Don’t you want to go play some golf, or go home awhile?’ he asked his dad. But Ablah doesn’t waste time thinking about things he can’t change. Do that, he told his son, and “you lose that moment forever.”

      A bleu cheese dressing fan, when Ablah sampled a particularly tasty batch in Colorado, he immediately asked the restaurant owner for the recipe. He was led out to a barn, and was shown the large wooden bucket where it was made. Ablah wanted the recipe for himself, so he bought it and formed a company called Swiss Chalet. Even now, the mini croutons sold in grocery stores as Crispins, are the remaining signs of his salad days. When he sold Swiss Chalet, he briefly became the largest individual shareholder of the Clorox Company.

      There came a point in Ablah’s life when he sometimes flew to three different cities in one day before arriving back home in Wichita. And so, he became partners with Jack DeBoer, and bought out DeBoer Aviation. Then he made his pilot, Ron Ryan, a full partner, and formed Ryan Aviation. The pair later sold it to a public company called PHH before Ryan bought it back again.

      Along the way, he also became a golf course developer. Willowbend was to become the first for him, but so far, it’s his one and only. He simply wanted to prove one needn’t be a millionaire to enjoy the perpetually green scenery and spend time out on the fairways.

      Equal access is a theme that runs through another project, this one on a tremendously creative scale. When Ablah became the largest owner of Henry Moore sculptures in the world, he offered to loan several pieces to New York City. People who typically didn’t see the inside of an art gallery ought to see the inspiring works of one of the world’s most renowned artists, he thought. So he wanted to place the sculptures outdoors, in the city’s parks and boroughs.

      Fearing the priceless work would become victim to graffiti and vandalism, Mayor Ed Koch wanted to wall off the artwork with guards and fences. But Ablah said no, and took personal responsibility for the art himself. As if some divine force were protecting it, Moore’s sculptures remained untouched the entire year they were on exhibit. Time Magazine would publish a book about the unique outdoor installation, calling it the “Museum without Walls.”

      He met Moore, became a friend of his. And yet, over the course of his lifetime, through all his accomplishments, Ablah has been most proud of his family. First and foremost, he told his kids, you are Christian. The reason your family fled to America is because other religious groups were killing and persecuting Christian Arabs.

      The second thing he told them was, you are not Lebanese, you’re an American of Lebanese descent. Speaking English was important at the Ablah household. In fact, the only two Arabic words his son Jeff used on a regular basis as a child were jiddy, which means grandfather, and sitty (grandmother). It was important that George took one of his children to eat breakfast with sitty every Sunday morning. “Grandma had a premium influence on Dad’s life,” Jeff says.

      Ablah’s mother came over to America as a young girl with not much more than an orange, which was given to her with the advice to only eat it if she really, really got hungry. When Sitty died, her family found that orange in her dresser drawer, dried up and shrunk to the size of a marble.

      He may form a partnership with someone, but if the business has anything to do with real estate or something he’s very adept at, he won’t take a back seat. In fact, he won’t answer to a board of directors. He can’t ask someone for permission. He’s got to be on his own. And he certainly isn’t concerned with what others think. A true individualist, he tells his son, “I’ve gotta go when I’ve gotta go.”As Jeff says, “He’s so real, and he won’t put on any airs. He dances to his own song.”

      At this point, Ablah shows no signs of slowing down. His goal is to live to be 129, and all he’ll need, he says, is a new set of eyes and organs, and he’ll just keep right on rolling.