Saturday I will perform another wedding. Saturday my friends, John and Jamie, will stand in front of a group of staring people and be led through a service that will change their lives.
So this morning I'm thinking about vows. Words that fall out of our face, commitments that seem somewhat easy to proclaim, promises that are written on the hallways of eternity - what's really the big deal?
Politicians say things to earn the respect of a vote and then get caught in the machine to find that the promise is impossible to fulfill.
Husbands promise to cherish their wife only to find that by "cherish" they meant take advantage of and ridicule.
Wives promise to honor their husband yet find themselves on the other side of the promise living whatever the opposite of "honor" is.
People take vow to be a member of the church, and then reduce the role of membership to showing up on Sunday when it fits their schedule.
We promise employers that we will accomplish a task with excellence and then discover that mediocrity is the norm and quite acceptable.
Sometimes we even would make a vow to God while under the pressure of a trial that seems to have been made out of tin foil rather than iron.
I'm wondering what we have done to the power of the word and the weight of a vow. Do we realize that in even placing faith in Christ for forgiveness there is a promise of life change inherent within that placement?
Yet, there is an excitement that draws me to the wedding of this weekend because it is happening. People are making promises and fulfilling them. There are politicians that follow through, husbands that cherish, wives that honor, members that act, employees that go beyond, and Christians that grow – it is happening!
In a world that has reduced the verbal vow may this day be one that we are Christ-like enough to follow through on our promise. He has been a consistent example of what it looks like to honor a vow, let's follow him.
Pastor Dave
Friday, May 29, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Thoughts
Dear Friends,
I wake today with thoughts of what this day holds. It is my discovery that, among other things, this day holds choices. No one has dictated what I am to eat, where I am to go, what I am to say or not say. I can plan my weekend to worship the way that fits my faith. I can travel freely. I can applaud what I like and I can complain about what I don't like - and I know that others can do the same…
Dear Savior,
I wake today with thought of what this day holds. It is my discovery that, among other things, this day holds choices. You have given me the profound gift of selecting from countless activities that I can participate in that offer You praise in heaven while my feet are on earth. You have even trusted me with the ability to scorn your gift by misusing it to behave in ways that violate Your will - and I know that others can do the same …
Dear Friends,
... I wanted you to know that I do not take my freedom for granted. You, or a family member of yours is, or has been, a very big part of that. Countless people have given their lives in service to this Country so that we could be free. The result is not flawless, the result is not totally harmonious, the result may not have been what was fully intended – but the result is a nation working through liberating, and sometimes volatile, expressions of freedom…
Dear Savior,
... I wanted You to know that I do not take my freedom for granted. You have paid a price that only You could pay so that I could live a life that only You could provide. Sometimes I stumble and mess up the gift You have given, sometimes I behave more like someone who is bound than someone who is free, sometimes I forget about Your work – but the result of Your life is grace at work in my life changing me in liberating and sometimes volatile ways so I can live expressions of freedom…
Dear Friends,
I know that freedom has a price. Across this globe, through the pages of time, are the scars of war. Each war represents a cause and a willingness to give life for that cause. An enemy of this nation was faced. Your grandpa, uncle, mom or dad, son or daughter, husband or wife walked those fields and forests risking – and maybe even giving – their very life. They placed an oath on their lips, a flag on their hearts, and a promise to this Nation above their own safety and served so that I could be free. I wanted you to know I'm remembering their sacrifice…
Dear Savior,
I know that freedom has a price. Across this globe, through the pages of time, are scars of war for my soul. You have faced the enemy of my soul with the power of Your own blood. You have stood when I could not, fought when I was too weak, risked when I was a coward, and rolled away stones when my fate was sealed. You remained obedient to our Father when the price could not have climbed higher and You remained committed to my freedom when my bondage could not have been deeper. I wanted You to know I'm remembering Your sacrifice…
Dear Friend,
Thank You.
Dear Savior,
Thank You.
Pastor Dave
Friday, May 15, 2009
The Storms
Once upon a time in the village of Whole one week was different than the rest.
The town crier was a simple boy who loved his role in the land. The people of the village wanted him to live close enough to the King’s house that if the King had a message or note for the people the crier could receive the message from the King and proclaim it to the village. That was his role in Whole… and a good role it was.
One week a storm came and knocked a big tree down in front of the door the crier’s house. He had a message from the King for the people, but he could not give it because he was stranded in his home. As the storm passed the crier noticed that the King had protected his home during the winds and that the King, himself, had even been protecting the crier.
“Why did you let a storm come to our village and my home?” the crier asked the King as they reflected over the week long storm.
The King gave no answer.
“It is your land and your village, why don’t you keep it from peril and danger?” the crier waited for a response, but received none.
He asked one more question of the King, “Will there be more storms?”
At that question the King smiled softly and nodded, “Yes, my friend, there will be more storms for both you and the village. This land will always have storms that will come through.”
“But why?” the crier was trying to make sense of storms that don’t make sense.
“Don’t you see it?” the King asked with passion in his heart.
“See what?” was the empty reply.
“The change.” The King stood and motioned for the crier to follow him to the threshold of the door of his house. The King pointed to the step just 20 feet outside of the door and said, “Look.”
The crier looked at the threshold and then to the step searching for something that appeared different. “Other than the mess of twigs, leaves, and puddles left by the storm, I see nothing different.” Frustration mixed in the tone of the crier’s voice.
The King smiled and pushed aside the debris from last week’s storm with his foot. “Look!” he said pointing to the ground.
“I can’t believe it! The storm has damaged the foundation of the house! The whole house has shifted! Not only must I endure the storm, I must be witness to its power to bring disaster to my home. You give the storms too much freedom to bring damage.” The crier accused the King and reminded him that it was his role to protect the villagers.
The King pulled the crier off the step and showed him the ground again. There, eight inches away was a line from where the house sat before the last storm. And beyond that was another, and another, and another. Each storm had moved the crier’s home from its foundation. Each storm had pushed the house from its resting place and relocated it slightly.
“I don’t understand why this is good news!” the crier yelled hoping the King would explain. “Everything is ruined!”
The King pointed over the roof of the debris covered house to His castle that rested in the distance. “That’s where I live. Each storm pushes your house closer to mine. The wind is not destroying your home, it is delivering it!” The King smiled.
The crier slowly did too. The thought of living with the King was one of his favorite thoughts to think. Being delivered was better to dwell on than being destroyed.
“The storms still frighten me sometimes,” he confessed.
“I know,” t he King responded. “That’s why I am here.” The King started to pick up the branches and garbage that had littered the lawn. The village crier joined him and both of them tidied up the post-storm yard without saying a word.
As they picked up the last of the storm remnants the King asked the crier, “Will you remind the people of the village that they are closer than they were? Will you announce to them that I know about the storms and I will not let the wind be wasted? Will you stand in the square of the village and proclaim how passionate my love for them is?”
The crier looked forward to going back to the village again... he had a message to deliver from the King.
Pastor Dave
The town crier was a simple boy who loved his role in the land. The people of the village wanted him to live close enough to the King’s house that if the King had a message or note for the people the crier could receive the message from the King and proclaim it to the village. That was his role in Whole… and a good role it was.
One week a storm came and knocked a big tree down in front of the door the crier’s house. He had a message from the King for the people, but he could not give it because he was stranded in his home. As the storm passed the crier noticed that the King had protected his home during the winds and that the King, himself, had even been protecting the crier.
“Why did you let a storm come to our village and my home?” the crier asked the King as they reflected over the week long storm.
The King gave no answer.
“It is your land and your village, why don’t you keep it from peril and danger?” the crier waited for a response, but received none.
He asked one more question of the King, “Will there be more storms?”
At that question the King smiled softly and nodded, “Yes, my friend, there will be more storms for both you and the village. This land will always have storms that will come through.”
“But why?” the crier was trying to make sense of storms that don’t make sense.
“Don’t you see it?” the King asked with passion in his heart.
“See what?” was the empty reply.
“The change.” The King stood and motioned for the crier to follow him to the threshold of the door of his house. The King pointed to the step just 20 feet outside of the door and said, “Look.”
The crier looked at the threshold and then to the step searching for something that appeared different. “Other than the mess of twigs, leaves, and puddles left by the storm, I see nothing different.” Frustration mixed in the tone of the crier’s voice.
The King smiled and pushed aside the debris from last week’s storm with his foot. “Look!” he said pointing to the ground.
“I can’t believe it! The storm has damaged the foundation of the house! The whole house has shifted! Not only must I endure the storm, I must be witness to its power to bring disaster to my home. You give the storms too much freedom to bring damage.” The crier accused the King and reminded him that it was his role to protect the villagers.
The King pulled the crier off the step and showed him the ground again. There, eight inches away was a line from where the house sat before the last storm. And beyond that was another, and another, and another. Each storm had moved the crier’s home from its foundation. Each storm had pushed the house from its resting place and relocated it slightly.
“I don’t understand why this is good news!” the crier yelled hoping the King would explain. “Everything is ruined!”
The King pointed over the roof of the debris covered house to His castle that rested in the distance. “That’s where I live. Each storm pushes your house closer to mine. The wind is not destroying your home, it is delivering it!” The King smiled.
The crier slowly did too. The thought of living with the King was one of his favorite thoughts to think. Being delivered was better to dwell on than being destroyed.
“The storms still frighten me sometimes,” he confessed.
“I know,” t he King responded. “That’s why I am here.” The King started to pick up the branches and garbage that had littered the lawn. The village crier joined him and both of them tidied up the post-storm yard without saying a word.
As they picked up the last of the storm remnants the King asked the crier, “Will you remind the people of the village that they are closer than they were? Will you announce to them that I know about the storms and I will not let the wind be wasted? Will you stand in the square of the village and proclaim how passionate my love for them is?”
The crier looked forward to going back to the village again... he had a message to deliver from the King.
Pastor Dave
Friday, May 8, 2009
Irony
This morning I sit outside working on this note wondering why 60 degrees feels so different in the Spring than it does in the Winter. If my living room was 60 degrees 3 months ago I would have called someone to fix the furnace because we were "freezing." But, right now with the sun coming up to the bird choir I sit in my backyard in a short sleeved shirt loving the warmer temperatures.
We're complex people.
Zoe, our dog, has a favorite place to sit in the winter. Right under the window where the sun is coming in is her favorite spot. But now that the sun is out and the whole back yard is covered with it, she found a spot in the shade of the porch swing.
When I take Zoe for a walk and she sees a squirrel she bolts quick enough to pull my arm off, but when she sees one run across the backyard (like she just did as I write this) she won't leave the shady spot she's claimed.
My wife doesn't like onions, but loves onion rings. I'm not real fond of tomatoes but like ketchup (by the way… who decided how to spell "catchup," it's like the word "kwhyer" in the first paragraph... I might be good at spelling if it made more cents!)
It seems that we struggle with having our own life be consistent and at the same time wish God would be closer somehow. I want to know God's will but I'd rather live my own. I want to make my own decisions but I wonder why God doesn't intervene and protect me from the results of them.
When Moses led the children of Israel out of Egypt there were comforted by seeing the presence of God lead them through the pillar of smoke and fire, but when it came to meeting with God they wanted Moses to go for them because they were afraid. They wanted to know God was near… just not too near.
Wanting to know the presence of God and refusing to turn my back on sin and compromise doesn't add up. Claiming to understand that God is the judge while I demand my right to judge and sentence people is kind of silly. Worshipping God in the church building and ignoring him at home reveals my misunderstanding. Wanting God to bless my mediocrity is….
Seeking,
Pastor Dave
We're complex people.
Zoe, our dog, has a favorite place to sit in the winter. Right under the window where the sun is coming in is her favorite spot. But now that the sun is out and the whole back yard is covered with it, she found a spot in the shade of the porch swing.
When I take Zoe for a walk and she sees a squirrel she bolts quick enough to pull my arm off, but when she sees one run across the backyard (like she just did as I write this) she won't leave the shady spot she's claimed.
My wife doesn't like onions, but loves onion rings. I'm not real fond of tomatoes but like ketchup (by the way… who decided how to spell "catchup," it's like the word "kwhyer" in the first paragraph... I might be good at spelling if it made more cents!)
It seems that we struggle with having our own life be consistent and at the same time wish God would be closer somehow. I want to know God's will but I'd rather live my own. I want to make my own decisions but I wonder why God doesn't intervene and protect me from the results of them.
When Moses led the children of Israel out of Egypt there were comforted by seeing the presence of God lead them through the pillar of smoke and fire, but when it came to meeting with God they wanted Moses to go for them because they were afraid. They wanted to know God was near… just not too near.
Wanting to know the presence of God and refusing to turn my back on sin and compromise doesn't add up. Claiming to understand that God is the judge while I demand my right to judge and sentence people is kind of silly. Worshipping God in the church building and ignoring him at home reveals my misunderstanding. Wanting God to bless my mediocrity is….
Seeking,
Pastor Dave
Friday, May 1, 2009
Living...
Do you realize how risky it is to be alive? The odds of a drunk driver forcing their way into your automotive world are higher than we would like to think. Michigan is now one of the states that can claim being a host to the swine flu. More and more people are taking up arms and busting their way into unsuspecting homes or businesses looking to score some jewelry so they can run it to "We Buy Gold" and solve all their problems.
We live on the edge of eternity trying to stay busy enough not to think about it, or healthy enough not to enter it. This morning I'm thinking through a few ways to enjoy the risk of this life and the inevitability of the next one.
1. Avoid panic. It seems our response to the negative news is to panic our way through the event. Panic is caused by an awareness of lack of control. The ironic thing is - we never had it. Something just reminded us that we didn't. Panic and joy can never have a picnic together.
2. Refuse the need to blame. We are spending so much time finger pointing as a nation and we are learning how to do it in the church too. Acknowledging responsibility and placing blame are two different things. Blame is not about justice or correction it is about revenge – we don't need that. The spirit of revenge is more contagious than the flu. Hold people (and yourself) accountable, don't plan to get even.
3. Never, ever, never, ever, not in a billion years exaggerate. It's interesting to me how frustration is a great host for exaggeration. "You always…." Exaggeration is like tightly wrapping the truth in saran wrap - it might still be there, but it can't breathe. Exaggeration suffocates the truth.
4. Remember this life is temporary. Don't get your socks in a bunch over what will be old news in two weeks, two months, two years, or even two decades. When frustration and fear claim a home in your spirit make them share the room with faith… they can't stand the music faith listens to, they'll leave.
5. Commit to living new life moment by moment. Sometimes we forget that this side of eternity is made up of moments. Fill the moments with awareness of God's presence and you'll treat your wife properly. Fill the moments with the truth of God's word and you'll rethink anger. Fill the moments with knowing the Spirit of God is there and compromise will seem less attractive.
6. Eat a piece of pie and take a walk. Simple pleasures and a slower pace would be a good idea for us. Please note that is different than eating a pie and sitting on the couch! I am not suggesting laziness - I'm saying force simple moments of pleasure in to the "risk" of life. Take a walk with God. Be thankful there is ice for your water. Enjoy the fact that the leaves are coming out. Lighten up!
7. Be sure God is both the center and peripheral of your world. Face the unknowns and the risks remembering you are a child of the King! God doesn't panic and the kingdom of God is not at risk. Take comfort in the fact that God is God and you aren't, your Dr. isn't, your Pastor isn't, the President isn't, a disease isn't, Wall Street isn't, and a dictator plotting terror isn't. God has not resigned.
I'm about to go for one of those walks,
Pastor Dave
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)