It’s a beautiful day out here in the Meadows. The air has a special lightness in its wispy breeze. The corn is about eight inches high, a startling spurt since yesterday, and the hay meadow has shoots long enough to start waving with the wind. It is a day that celebrates God in his greatness; a day that lives communion with the divine.

How wonderful it would be if we could find our own lives to be just as bright, fruitful and celebratory! That was the message last Sunday, “Have Breakfast with Jesus:” live in the invitation to spend time with God. The meadows do. “See how the lilies of the field do not labor or spin. Not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.” (Matthew 6:28-30)

I really do believe life was meant to be joyful, uplifting, wispy and satisfying. And from what I've have seen over the past five decades plus, life generally is less than this ideal because we forget to live with that from which our essential soul comes. We try too often to go-at-it-alone. And I further believe that spending a little time focusing our consciousness on the eternal can change everything.

So here are some web-links to daily devotional material to help us "have breakfast with Jesus." Some are subscriptions. Some send you daily devotions right to your mail box. Other you simply long into each morning.

Navigators - www.Navlink.org (Navigator’s will email you six days a week)

The Upper Room - www.UpperRoom.org/devotional (from the United Methodists)

Our Daily Bread - www.odb.org (with an audio link)

Blue Letter Bible - www.blueletterbible.org/reader/daily (a daily bible reading program)

"We have challenges to address in the next two months as to how we will organize ourselves to enable us to be an effective presence in ministry and service." Pastoral Blog's previous post

We are now two months into that time frame. It is amazing how the good Lord keeps the mind clear, the life pure, the heart quick and the mind focused when He is at work! So often we can get into a funk, feel a bit discouraged, or sense the task is more than we can handle. True enough, I believe, if we go at it alone. However, the congregation met on April 25, and prayed. Tuesday night the bible study group has met and prayed. The Elders have met three times in the last six weeks, and prayed. Every day I close also in prayer. In essence, it doesn't seem that anyone is trying to "go at it alone," and progress is happening!

This week our Session's report for stabilizing the church and transitioning to a structure necessary to address the expanding ministries in our church is being mailed. It is also being posted on the web site (www.pioneerpresbyterian.org. There is clarity in the process and agreement that the goals are reasonable and attainable.

Maybe we call take to heart a lesson. The closer we keep our consciousness with the divine essence of creation, the more full, uplifting, complete, successful our lives become. It really isn't a mystery. Fact is we were made as spiritual beings, so it follows, that living in closeness to the one spiritual entity that made us spiritual will only make life more of what it is supposed to be.

I look forward to the great adventure ahead. Keep up the prayers. Keep up the commitment. Together, let our lives soar as on eagles wings! (By the way, that's not an original concept of mine. Isaiah had that revelation centuries ago.)

Study Leave Report: What a Joy to Grow!

I visited two churches of interest on Study Leave. Both were planted in the early 90’s. That is when they finished the first stage of their building. But they have around for some ten years prior to this accomplishment, meeting in homes, renting tore fronts and sharing space in other churches. Does this sound familiar? First Presbyterian in the Meadows has also held home meetings, shared space, and worshiped in non-traditional places.

Today these two churches are eighteen years out from the day they finished their first building campaign, and a good twenty-five years out from when they first gathered. That is seventeen to twenty-four years ahead of us.

My first observation is that we need to be patient and persistent. Growth is long and gradual. It does not happen simply because we build a building. So if anyone still holds that thought, it would be wise to discard it. In fact, this perspective leaves a church vulnerable to the biggest mistake it can make: thinking the accomplishment of one task means the work is done. What has marked these two churches’ continued success is their ability to adapt and mold their forms and structures so they can build and grow. Their defining mark has not been that they built a building, but that have been, and remain, willing and able to continue changing and adapting.

A growing church never ever stops. At Mountain View Presbyterian Church, even with 550 members and programs for all ages, they continue to build and grow because they continue to adapt. For about ten years their focus was towards a retirement community of Sun City. But as the church has begun to attract a broader spectrum of members, they have found themselves working at integrating children, families and youth where this was not an issue before. Pastor Linda Kelly clearly pointed out, “It is easy to relax in the familiar things that makes us comfortable and not struggle with the questions that make us change. For us now it is having to work at things like, ‘What do we do with children?’” What promotes the church’s growth is its willingness to let its comfort zone get a little lumpy if it means someone new to the fellowship finds comfort.

I remember a Sunday morning here at the Meadows when the church was full, the music was hitting every beat, and the sermon seemed to hook where people were at. There was a good spirit moving through the congregation. Afterwards a long-time inactive member who had come by to visit her old church stopped me in parking lot and said, “Well, it’s not my church.” It certainly is not. The church she left years ago has been alive at adapting to emerging needs and trends in order to grow and serve. We can't expect a stagnate perspective of a church life to grow a church.

We have challenges to address in the next two months as to how we will organize ourselves to enable us to be an effective presence in ministry and service.

Keep up the prayers. Share your ideas. Keep the discussion going. Be ready to move forward.

Study Leave Report: Experience In-house Marketing

Experience In-house Marketing
Many know that as your pastor I am constantly trying to figure out why there is such a low, low, low interest in non-worship spiritual building activities. When we have a church dinner, we all come out for the great fellowship, but when it comes to delving deeper into the bible, or taking time to join in a prayer group, the interest wanes dramatically.

I’m still looking for an answer as to what keep us from being part of these activities. Still,there is one thing I do know: there any things in our lives that beg for our attention, and despite our best intentions to be take part in the activities that deepen our walk with God, we are quickly distracted by all the other stuff we have to do.

What have I discovered today on my Study Leave that might help this? In-house marketing!

Simply put, what do we do that will remind us of the events of spiritual growth? We use the printed material for Sunday worship. The church I visited today used many opportunities to remind people what was happening. The front door had an announcement board right as you came in. Then, before you moved ten feet into the building, there was a welcome sign with a note to folks to check out the announcement board. At the coffee urn there were small cards with an upcoming event printed on it, and a note for people to bring a card to their friends. Even in the mens room (yes, right above the … excuse me … the urinal) there was a framed announcement board with the upcoming calendar. By the time you left the church, you had a pretty good idea of what was happening.

This is a good thought for advancing our next phase of ministry. Maybe we need more focus on in-house marketing that can remind us of spiritual opportunities around us. Any ideas? Does this interest you?

Study Leave Report: Encounter with the Lost

Encounter with the Lost:
Today I had an interesting conversation with a frustrated woman who has been looking for a church. Here is the verbatim story she told me, as best as I can recall…

"So I was wanting to go back to church since I hadn’t been there for a long time.. Something was just missing. My husband’s Episcopalian and I’m Catholic, so we thought we would look for something both of us could agree on, and we started looking around. We went to a church and I couldn’t believe what happened. We walked in and a man came over to welcome us, but instead of saying, “Hello,” or “It’s nice to meet you,” the first thing out of his mouth was, “You understand that if you are not a member of this Synod you cannot take communion.” I should have walked out then , but I thought it was so out of line that it had to be just this guy having a bad day or something. So we sat down and then the pastor came over. I thought this was nice for him to take the time to welcome someone he recognized as a visitor. You’d think so, right? Well you wouldn’t believe this. All he said was “I want you to know that you can’t take communion with us. “ I was thinking to myself, “To hell with you.” But it gets worth. We should have just gotten up and walked out, but we stayed around. After church? Someone else came over to greet us, and they handed us a membership card that wanted to know how much money we made. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I gave up looking for a church. Just look at all the crap that goes on, and they wonder why people don’t go to church? Shouldn’t they be living the virtue of the faith, and all they do is tell you you don’t mean anything to them but money and you have no business being there? It’s terrible.

"I left my last church because all they did was fight over one scandal after another. They would just get through with one problem and they would have to deal with another one. All anyone wanted to do there was fight about stupid stuff, and never do anything to help you find peace and virtue. It’s ridicules. I mean I’ve just stopped looking. It’s not worth the fight."

Three things I learn from this that all of us should take into account:
First, this woman made up her mind pretty much within the first 30 seconds of walking in the door. The man who greeted her had all the ability to set the tone for the visit. Think of it, the first person a visitor meets, maybe it’s you, has a great gift to extend the hospitality of our Lord, right then and there. This is not great program. You don’t have to be elected to an office to do this. We just need just a willingness to be a friend to the searching soul in the same way Jesus is a friend to sinners. After all, who of us is not searching for some sense of comfort and care on any Sunday when we also walk into worship.

Second, this woman was not interested in doctrinal barriers or church rules, but that is all her heard. She was looking for a place where the virtues of life would be exhibited and nurtured. How often does the religion, or the rules, or the doctrine (as important as they are) instead of being guidelines for being a church, become barriers to someone’s searching heart from finding God. Maybe it is a good idea to keep church business to the enclaves of committee debates, but when living the church, it is incumbent upon us to live with grace that welcomes, cares, comforts, nurtures and loves.

Third, the failures of this one church have hurt all churches. Simply because the experience was so offensive, this woman and her husband gave up all together on searching for a relationship with God through the church. That is a shame. It tells us that what we do and how we do it may have profound influences beyond the limitations of our walls.

In summary, whatever the program, whatever the denomination, whatever the rules and order, how ever we end up structuring the church for the next phase of our ministry and growth, the most critical component will be the warm and comforting heart of the parishioner who welcomes the lost and suffering soul into the fellowship of our Lord’s praise and glory.

Future of Ministry

Dear Friends:

Our finances and structure will change in June. And we need your help to do the correctly.

The manner in which we have been doing ministry for the past six years will not be sustainable beyond June 30, simply because the design we have been using is inappropriate for where we are and where we need to be going. The Session, the Treasurer, the Presbytery and I are keenly aware that if we continue using this structure we will suffocate.

Our mission strategy for the past six years was put in place in November 2004 specifically to secure a pastor-driven program for closing out the ministry in Holyoke, planting a new church and constructing a building in a new mission field. All of us were very successful at this. The ten year task was accomplished in five.

We now need to be equally successful at making our church’s ministry expansive in its comfort the sick and dying, care and feeding of the hungry, and the nurture of hurt and suffering souls if we are to continue to flourish. In many ways this is a grand opportunity. All the energy and resources we put into building a building, can now be directed to service, compassion, teaching, comforting, healing all in the name of Christ our Lord.

This week I will be exploring how to structure our church given our size and financial position so as to advise the Session. But I need your help in this. All of us need to be part of the discussion. Please begin by participating in our Session’s “Designing Our Next Phase of Ministry” questionnaire that was distributed on Easter and is available again this morning.

The questionnaire is asks only five questions. It’s short, but we need everyone’s input. We need to ourselves protect against making inaccurate assumptions from limited input. Answer the questions, drop it at the office, or mail it back.

You can download a PDF version from the website, www.PioneerPresbyterian.org.

Ideas can be shared also on FaceBook; search “Life in the Meadows,” or “First Presbyterian, Granby MA.”

Comments can also be posted on the Pastor Blog, at LifeSparkofFaith.blogspot.com, or Google search “Life Spark of Faith Blog.”

A Peronal Word from Haiti

Dear All,

It’s been two and a half months since our world changed. Since then, Rodney has made three trips back from Haiti, Nancy has just left my side for the very first time, dozens of visitors, hundreds of calls, and thousands of notes have inspired my soul and hastened my healing.

Yesterday afternoon I saw pictures of the rubble that was our apartment. Last night was a horrible night. The night before, we saw a re-enactment of the Last Supper. I cried -- not just for me and Haiti. The day before that was a breakthrough – I finally remembered how to get to the therapist’s without getting lost. Wow!! -- -- the flood of emotions that are triggered by the big events are reflections of countless ones that make up the moments of every day -- -- and night.
I am convinced there is no way to even try to thank each and every one of you personally. The emotional roller coaster would just be too great. I watched my husband cry as he put on a pair of shoes given to him by an old friend – and understood the depth of sorrow and meaning. I’ve seen Nancy strengthen by phone calls from new friends giving counsel on medicines, or doctors, or the horrible quagmire called insurance. How can one begin to say thanks for a line in an email that brings back hundreds of memories of good times or shared pains. The offers of help, a flower, a card, a chocolate Easter bunny, a visitor from a hundred or a thousand miles away or a borrowed car or home; how can I begin to say thanks.
Behind all the tangibles are the prayers which have gotten me to here – wherever ‘here’ is at this moment. Thank you each for the memories, and prayers you have so unselfishly shared.

Rodney is here in Florida with me for two weeks. Nancy will return when he leaves for Haiti. Friday I visit the spine doctor again and hope the back brace removal begins. Frustrations with not remembering, not being able to type or figure out the computer, blurry vision, or just the impossibility of doing everything expected is slowly turning to successful conquests., for the most part. Walking is a joy – small steps, not many, exhausting, and bracketed by a walker but still a joy.
Rather than looking toward a very confusing “ahead”, I find great comfort looking back each week to see how far I’ve come.

Sharyn

Easter Morning!

The morning broke with gloom of an overcast sky: grey, damp, cold. “Se la vi,” for Easter. Life is what it is: riddled with gloomy mornings when your heart yearns for sunshine.

Gradually, while pouring the morning java, a diffused light bounced across the kitchen from the east door; not terribly bright, but enough to hint at the beaming glory hidden behind the clouds, a glory we often forget when the days are dull.

It’s now 8:00 am and the sky has yielded to a shining antithesis of morning gloom! I have to squint at the computer monitor to see what in heaven’s name I’m tapping out on the keyboard. A fitting climax to the Easter Vigil.

Enjoy the Easter day. However gloomy your skies may be, this is a day that reminds us the spirit has more power over darkness than we might think. Behind the gloom is a light waiting to shine in every corner.

Pilgrimage through the Mundane

Here I am the day before Holy Week ironing pillow shams that Linda has sewn for the couches in the reception area of the new church. Ashley’s helping to cut out the fabric. Grant’s gathering up the week’s trash.

The chores are the same, but the tone is different than on other Saturdays. The phone is ringing with family making arrangements to join us for church and an Easter meal. Linda’s reminding us that she wants to have the pillow done by Easter. Grant’s looking over his work schedule for the Holy Week. Hope’s texting about when to be picked up from college for the holy days. The preparations are making the coming week less a matter of daily chores than one where the daily chores are becoming a pilgrimage, a ritual, a purpose.

We might have any number of activities that flow into our holy days. They seem to put some continuity to the passage of time, and separate the mundaneness of life from itself. Maybe that is why Moses read the law to the people on regular intervals, and the history of the Jewish people was (as still is) rehearsed every year, and why we let the otherwise mundane chores of what would otherwise be just another week begin to tally a new meaning. It’s a pilgrimage, a passage. Let it live in its fullness all the days of this week.

Water to Wine

It was a bit strange this morning. The deacons who were to prepare communion took ill and couldn’t make it in. Some other’s stepped in, did the bread dicing bit (a sanitary way of sharing the “body of Christ” during a noro flu outbreak), but couldn’t find the juice for the communion cup. With twenty-minutes to spare there was barely time to make it to Cumby Farms and back.

W.W.J.D.? (What Would Jesus Do?) He was in a similar predicament at a wedding. “Nearby [to Jesus] stood six stone water jars. Jesus said ‘Fill them with water. Now draw some out and take it to the banquet.’ They did so ... the water turned into wine.”

Don’t think it didn’t cross our minds to try the same trick. What if, what if, what if we actually had filled some empty jars with water, brought them to the banquet table of communion, and found it has turned into wine? That would have knocked a few socks off, eh?

Jesus and the water-to-wine thing was awesome. My brother-in-law always brings out a pitcher of water at family dinners and asks me to do the same thing. Of course I can’t.

Truth is, we are who we are. We’re not Jesus. We are children of God with specific abilities in an unambiguous time and place unique to us. We so often strive, however, to be more than we are, like some superhero. If we didn’t, Marvel comics wouldn’t exist. It a bit harder being who we are than fanaticizing about what we are not.

It would have been awesome to have pulled off that stunt this morning, but we didn’t have to. In a strange way, Jesus did the water-to-wine thing. Our attention was soon directed to the bottom shelf of the kitchen cabinet where we found the extra supply of communion “wine.” We just had to look a little harder to see the miracles blasting out

Punxsutawney Phil says, "No surfing yet!"

Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow on February 2. I guess that means I can’t start waxing my surf board until March 16.

The weird Groundhog Day event seems to have grown out of an ancient February 2nd European festival known as Candlemas that celebrated the day Mary and Joseph presented their baby Jesus at the Temple. Clergy in Europe would bless household candles marking the growing light of our Lord that would illuminate the darkness of the home just as the light of Christ would illuminate the darkness of the soul.

The Germans had evidently blended the Candlemas festival with some Teutonic legends to conclude that if the sun made an appearance on Candlemas Day an animal would cast a shadow and dive back into its hole predicting six more weeks of bad weather.

Here we are centuries later, a continent away, and a little groundhog is Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania has cornered the market on Candlemas since the first Groundhog Day of 1886. I guess that doesn’t really matter anymore. Who lights their homes with candles anyways, and there’s something about blessing a compact fluorescent that just doesn’t seem to convey the same ardor.

What does pique my curiosity is that the ancients seemed to have a sense of harmony with nature. Cows lay down before a storm. The brown strip of the woolly caterpillar gets longer. Elephants head to higher ground before an earthquake. Researches simply understand that animals have a keen sense of their surroundings and react to nature’s anomalies long before our busy minds human minds can.

A little Punxsutawney Phil every winter might reminds us that there is a lot going on around us the close our eyes to. And when we do, we may be missing some of the greatest displays of God’s creation. “The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness there of.” (psalm 24)

I Thought I'd Find Peace by Now

I thought I would find peace by now.

Trains, planes and automobiles took us to Washougal, Washington, and back last week to honor a friend killed when five stories of concrete collapsed on him in Port au Prince as he was heading out to meet representatives of a rural clinic to install solar panels. Because of the manner of his death the rituals of visitation, a wake, saying good bye were not possible. There was something incomplete in that, and quite lonely.
In Washougal, fifty men and women from the Cape Horn Patriot Guard, a triple volley of seven guns from the Air Guard, 25 Bhuddists from the Tzi Chi Foundation, four Knights of Malta, a film director, an Army Ranger, a representative from Partners in Health, business associates for sustainable living, two Christian pastors, three musicians and search-and-rescue teams fresh from Haiti, joined Linda and me with the family. There was something contrary to the otherwise incomplete loneliness of grief; something quite transcendent. It was no longer a matter of finding a place for my grief, but one of recognizing the vast fabric we weave with the threads of struggle that connect our lives.

We met twelve years ago as Walter was making a transition from business to humanitarianism. He pursued this passion brought on by a revelation of spirit that there is a matrix of existence that ties us all together, and if one suffers, all suffer to some degree. The best we can do is to ease the struggle of each other wherever and however we might.

The hectic pace of the trains, planes and automobiles of last week has drawn to a hush now, as has this life of our friend. But life itself has not. My struggle continues as does yours, and as we struggle together with none of us really finding much peace, I wonder if the best we can do is to do our thing, tow the line, turn the crank, enjoy what days we have, and carry each other along the road. I found that in Washougal. I hope we can find that here.

We continue to hear from our mission workers in Haiti. This letter arrived a few days ago from Rodney Babe.

Dear John,

Greatly appreciate knowing you are praying for us. Terribly sorry about our brother and your representative, Walter, sharing with those within Haiti. We empathize with you in the unknowing. The ray of hope, loss and pain stretches so far from the epicenter and the hurt is shared in so many ways.

Sharyn is healing. She walks with a walker, perhaps 40 feet, but then is exhausted and sick to her stomach and needs to lie down for a couple hours. I was shocked at how fragile of a starting place she is launching from. Broken ribs are hurting more as pain meds are adjusted downward. She doesn't discuss the earthquake expect to really trusted friends.

There are a dozen earthquake victims here in her group therapy that meets each day. Their shared experience allows her to cross the barrier of withdrawal as they begin a deeper healing. Again we are strongly praying their support is enough during these especially turbulent coming months.

Certainly nice weather has to be the positive thought for the day.

Thanks for your prayers,

Rodney

Reaching Beyond the Disaster

Twenty-six days after the Hotel Montana collapsed Walter was found. 1,882 people (that we know of) have been keeping a vigil of hope alive all this time. Even as the days drew longer and longer, eminent thoughts of grace never ceased. But in the end he died in the earthquake. Haiti has become personal for many. FaceBook comments (“Walt Ratterman - Haiti Mission”) sometimes reflect our feelings of futility in the face of devastating situations, and we wonder, “What good could there ever be in this?” Even as the hope endures, the loss stings.

If you met Walter’s wife Jeanne and his daughter Briana when they were here a few years ago, then you know, like us, that the numb anonymity of a massive disaster is no longer an option. A face, a voice, smile a memory now accompany the huge numbers; the immense destruction. Maybe this plants at least one seed of good. We realize we really cannot be detached from the horrors of an earthquake, a tsunami, an avalanche, a tornado, hurricane, mudslide, wildfire, flood, blizzard, volcano, heat wave…. When it is personal, it is real; not just a newsclip on CNN that will fade from consciousness in a day or two.

I guess I’m wondering how many disasters must become personal before we as a human family come to realize how precious each breath is that we all draw in common? I just wonder if we would not be just a bit more astute in sharing the burden of humanity’s pain of which there is plenty without an added disaster. In here the hope continues and we can reach beyond the disaster.

News from Haiti

From Susan Merten, wife of the U.S. Ambassador to Haiti, this firsthand report of the Jan. 16 earthquake given at Falls Church, Virginia, Rotary last Thursday.

“A horrible groaning from the earth as things started to shake. ... The noise became like a train roaring through our bedroom. ... The stairs rippling like waves on the water. ... Our building constructed in 1939 was earthquake resistant, which saved our lives, while across the street the old Hotel Christoph, housing U.N. Peacekeeping forces, collapsed and 400 were killed. Higher up the hill, the Hotel Montana also collapsed, taking the lives of many staying there.
“A dust cloud arose over the rubble, the result of shanty towns on the hills above the capital sliding into the valley. The night was pitch-black, with no electricity, and the city screamed all night long. After daylight: crying, screaming, bodies, collapsed buildings with limbs hanging out; ... and people just walking around in a daze. Over a million of the nation's nine million people residing in a country the size of Maryland are now homeless.
"The problem is not going away. For a country that may as well have been hit by an atomic bomb, the recovery and rebuilding effort will be daunting. With a million homeless and the rainy season coming only a few months away, the needs there will be enormous for a long time.”

From Rodney and Sharyn Babe our Missionaries in Haiti:

John,

Sharyn was seriously injured when our 4th floor apartment building totally collapsed. Her back was broken 3 places and about 7 ribs. there was other severe trauma injuries. She was medivaced to Cuba and then to Ft Lauderdale.

I have spoken with Sharyn about every evening and she has had a massive improvement in the last 3 days. With the aid of a walker, she now walks about 20 feet each day for PT. All are amazed at her recovery; guess they don't know the power of prayers.

I saw my first picture of her yesterday. She looks extremely old but with a great smile. Her body cast is not Grammy Award stylish but is doing the job well.

I hope to see her live later this week.

It has taken a long time to tell you thanks, but I am a terrible typist and work has been 24/7 trying to get responses to affected communities.

Rodney

Playing the Blues

Playing the Blues … Ken “Sticks” Scully and “Plucking” Pastor John lobbied a visit the House of Blues this last August when we were in Chicago for the Leadership Summit, but the schedule didn’t allow it. Too bad.

There is something about this music that reaches to the depths of the soul that is inaccessible in other styles. Listen to sounds from the crossroads of US 49 and 62 in Clarksdale, Mississippi, the tones of Chris Thomas King, or Muddy Waters, Buddy Guy or B.B. King and you can feel your chest tighten as if something deep inside is suddenly trying to bust out.

Trained in a classic style, the Blues are challenging. They violate disciplined European forms of strict metering, controlled technique, regulated expression and mastery of style. In true Teutonic elitism it is easy to discount the visceral foundations of the Blues as somewhat semi-barbaric. Yet, as Buddy Guy pointed out,”It comes from inside; you play with your soul.”

I have wondered if God, through Jesus, is trying to reach to the deep “blues of our soul;” to delve behind the intellect, the reason, the discipline, the order (as beneficial as these are for ordering society) to crack open the painful yearnings of our lonely selves and let us soar in beauty. Just maybe God loves us that much that nothing would be left out of salvation, but the whole being would find its expression in life; a life playing the blues.

Desert Rain

Back from Vegas where it rained six out of seven days and never went above 43 degrees. Strange. Glaring out of the hotel window it seemed depressing, like a dreary New England Spring where the ground is too muddy to walk on and air still bites with a winter chill. No crowds on the streets. No one with a rain coat or an umbrella. Most everyone resigned to hibernating in the gaming halls, restaurants, lobbies and hotels rooms.

Most times the arid climate leaves you looking for Chap Stick, hand lotion and sun screen; dodging intolerable solar glare and running between the havens of shadows. Then it struck us. What a treat. What are the chances of going to the desert and finding desert rain? Pretty cool.

How much of any day is a matter of how we choose to look at things?

Eleanor H. Porter’s wrote a series of eleven books about Pollyanna in Beldingsville, Vermont. We have taken her character’s optimistic attitude as a state of denial, calling excessive optimism “Pollyannish.” But we forget the thrust of Porter’s story was how the bright, sunny and sincere, disposition of Pollyanna brought gladness to a dispirited New England town.

I don’t think it is denial. It is how we choose to approach the situations around us. We can bemoan the rain falling in the desert, or see the unique privilege of walking through an uncommon phenomenon: desert rain.

What did Paul say? “Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for us.”

How to Help Haiti

Our church (PCUSA) has three missionaries on the ground as of this morning, and they are already responding to this earthquake. Presbyterian Disaster Assistance (PDA) is gathering information on the safety and status of our mission personnel and partners in the area. Initial reports indicate a large number of casualties and widespread damage especially in the capital city of Port-au-Prince.

Funds from One Great Hour of Sharing are already helping with the initial response. We can contribute further to the relief by noting “PDA” on any offering. Remember, 100% of each dollar goes directly to the emergency. All administrative costs are covered through our annual per capita offerings.

You can also contribute directly online by clicking HERE. (Be sure to note “First Presbyterian Church, Granby, MA” if you do this for proper mission credit.)

Please feel free to view the other Haiti posting, "Haiti is Personal."

Haiti is Personal

Today a friend of ours, Walt, is unaccounted for in Haiti in the aftermath of the earthquake. He was doing his own assistance work installing solar panels in rural areas. We haven’t heard from him for 36 hours now. Someone saw him on the street a few minutes for the earthquake, but nothing since then. Knowing someone caught in a disaster keeps the imposing magnitude of a mass tragedy on a human level. Please keep Walt and his family in your prayers.

Forty years ago our family was in Deschapelles, Haiti at the Hospital Albert Schweitzer, about 40 miles outside Port-au-Prince. Mom would give me a buck to rent horse for the day from a guy down the street. I would rent Edgar and ride around the trails with some other kids, stopping at Bazaars for fruit, or a river to water Edgar.

At a village about a mile out of town people would grab hollowed out tree limbs and bamboo shoots, and start jamming a calypso folk improvisation. It didn’t matter that us boys didn’t have a gratuity to offer for the entertainment, the folks just loved playing, and we loved the music.

For all the poverty and crime and disease of Haiti, it hurts to think that they are suffering the plight of a natural catastrophe on top of all else. It becomes more painful when you have seen their eyes and felt the soul that wants to soar like any other; or when you know someone personally caught in the disaster. Please remember the many families suffering in Haiti in your prayers as well.

It isn’t the grandiose number of people hurt that moves the heart; it’s the heart that has come to know the soul of another that makes things real. "If one suffers, all suffers; and if one is honored, all rejoices with it," 1 Corinthians 12:26. We are so interconnected, aren't we?

Crank-turning Life

Each morning as the sun breaks over the eastern hills that flank the Quabbin and shake me to consciousness, dreams of great things that will yet happen in the course of the next eighteen hours or so flood my mind. Coffee, a bowl of warm oatmeal, a few minutes on CNBC, a check of a Bible verse or two, a little prayer and I’m off with the rest of the world to execute victories and grandeur.

It doesn’t take long before the frost on the windshield and a low car battery calls forth an ice scraper, the defroster on high, a battery charger and a trip back to the kitchen for another cup of Java as I wait.

Charles Shattuck, a physician from decades ago, wrote a little pamphlet about living well. One comment he made shakes true every morning. “No matter how grand the dreams, we still have to turn the crank.” That’s where the work is; diligence, focus, attention to detail.

When involved in music in another era of my life, I calculated it took 20 hours of preparation for 1 minute of performance. When we’re at a concert, or the theater, or at worship, we see the culmination of endless hours of hidden crank-turning.

It can be discouraging, can’t it? Too often all we see is the final product and forget how much energy went into it. That can lead us to fantasies of quick results; sort of a Carnation Instant Life. Solomon was on the mark here as well when he wrote proverbs 12:11 “Those who work their land will have abundant food, but those who chase fantasies lacks judgment.”

Have a good day, and work hard at the details behind the scenes!

Water, Words and Wounds

This morning I referenced the research of Masaru Emoto. An number of folks were interested in looking further into his work with words, water, crystal formation, and the subtle impact of thoughts (yes thoughts) on the world we live in. Here it is:

Emoto, Masaru, "The Hidden Messages in Water," translated by David Thayne, c. 2004, Beyond Words Publishing, Oregon

Here are some photos of crystals formed on the surface tension of water held at 23 degrees Fahrenheit after being exposed to music, the first of beautiful harmonies, the other of rough and ragged rock.

Water exposed to Mozart prior to freezing


Water exposed to heavy metal prior to freezing



This is the impact of energy on the natural environment. Think what impact our words and our energy has physically on those around us. We can either heal or hurt.

"Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be.” James 3:10

Preacher and Hypocrite

Last week’s sermon invited us to look at the ill effects of double-mindedness as we make decisions in the New Year (from James1:5-11). Today (Sunday), I invite us to continue with James’ letter and consider the power of our words and a disciplined tongue (from James 3:3-10).

In both lessons I have to admit there is good reason to call the preacher a hypocrite. Those who know the guy expounding on these topics knows him to be one who is less than a master in either area. How true it is.

More often than not I gravitate to particular biblical lessons, not because I have surmounted the errors they deal with, but because they are lessons I am struggling with myself. The defense of many teachers trying to give lessons to other is, “Do as I say, not as a do.” That carries no weight if the teacher is not him/herself listening to the words. But if when gravitating to a lesson that needs to be taught to our co-workers, our children, our spouse, our grand-kids, we attune our hears to listen to the lesson and learn ourselves, we are bound to diminish the accusation of hypocrite so easily leveled against us.

I preach not because I have mastered the lessons of our Lord, but because I am working through these lessons myself. I just hope we all recognize that none of us has it all together, and that we need each other on this adventure of life if we are to make the most of it. After all, it was Solomon who reminded us, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.”( Proverbs 27:17)

See you in Church!

A Rule of Seven

It’s been 21 weeks since we had some time to retreat; really get away and recharge. I'm looking forward to the opportunity soon.

One of the accomplishments of the labor movement was the five-day work week, an eight-hour day, and occasional vacations. Such ideas were dismissed as a slothful expansion of a leisure class; criticized as an affront to the work ethic (Calvin’s conviction that work was responsible stewardship of God’s gifts vested in us).

While taking management classes at B.U. (part of my sociology studies), I was quite taken by research that showed working longer than seven hours at a stretch generated declining returns. Accidents increased. Errors were more prevalent. People worked slower to compensate for exhaustion.

Was Jesus a first vice president of human resources? He emphasized what I call the “rule-of-seven.” It’s the rhythm of creation which, if we flow with, brings about a balanced and productive life. Seven days of creation. Seventh-day Sabbath. Seven-time-seven year of jubilee. And this little seven-hour work schedule tidbit from business management. Jesus was never without passion for his work, but he also knew the time on Mount Tiberius, a boat ride across the Sea of Galilee, a trip to Caesarea Philippi we part of being effective.

It pays to pattern ourselves with rhythms of work and rest. Work hard, but don’t forget to honor the Sabbath. Plan a retreat. Drink some coffee. Talk with God.

It was JONAH!

Did you look at yesterday's blog? Did you catch the Pastor's blooper of the century? It was JONAH, not Noah!

Brain freeze? "Old-zheimer" come early? Too tired? Or, an example of life imploding in on itself from too many directions, and not listening to the spiritual movements around us?

Thanks for the critical comments, and my apologies for such disastrous error.

John

Living Like Noah in 2010

Have you ever had one of those days, or even a series of day, or possibly a whole year when decisions you’ve made don’t pan out as you expected? And then events begin to constrict themselves against a deadline?

I’m thinking of Noah, the renegade prophet who decided (without much wisdom) to hop on a merchant ship that was sailing off in the opposite direction from his God-given call. Storms arose. Seamen got angry. Noah got scared. The ship was being swamped. In desperate hope the sailor tossed Noah overboard knowing that he was trying to run from God. Of course, God doesn’t give up. A leviathan of the ocean swallowed Noah, only to spit him out on the shores of where he was supposed to have gone in the first place.

I wonder if in those times when the world begins to implode in on us if it is in partially the result of us missing God’s movements, if not blatantly deciding (unwisely) to turn from God and go it alone. The Good New keeps coming through, however. Even if we act like Noah, and everything falls apart as a result, the divine consciousness of the heavenly God seems to find ways us nudging us back to where we should have been in the first place. It’s part of the adventure of our spiritual nature; the ying and yang, the sin and grace, the good and evil that is part of us.

Maybe the next time the ying is more than the yang, or the sin is greater than the grace and evil seems to rule more than the good, we can remember the invitation of Jesus to start afresh. That’s sort of what salvation is about: no matter how condemned we might feel in the midst of our trouble, nothing is held against us. The great mercy of God looks at us not from what we have done (sin), but from what we can yet accomplish (grace).

New Year and Memories that Last

I was just plowing through the first sermon for the new year, researching some of the notable deaths of the last twelve months. I had forgotten many. Strange, isn’t it? People who have made such an impact in our lives for so many years seem to slip from our memory once their daily presence is gone. At least it is that way for the celebrities. “A generation comes and a generation goes, but the earth remains,” was the depressing lament of Solomon in Ecclesiastes 1:4.

My mother died this year. I haven’t forgotten her. My sister passed away three years ago, and I haven’t forgotten her. I lost one grandmother ten years ago, and the other forty years ago, and they remain fresh in my mind. My cousin Jo, two uncles, grandfather, great-uncle Phil, great-aunt Gladys, cousin Ed... they never fade. Life shared in love, life bound in a cord of mutual devotion, life deeply interconnected in reciprocal compassion ties the knot of memories that never pass “Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet.” (Psalm 85:10)