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)