"And if Not..."

And if Not…

            We are now well into our “Church on Fire” series and have listening to the different images of fire throughout the Scriptures.

            This week, we will be looking at the familiar story of the three young men as they were cast into the fiery furnace.  We will be speaking of the way that this fire had a way of revealing many things.  It highlighted the faith of the three young men.  It showed the foolishness of the king and his statue of gold.  But it also revealed the miraculous presence of a living God in the middle of the furnace, the fourth man who walked with them in the fire.

            Fiery trials have a way of revealing who we are, who others are, and who God is.

            This is keenly demonstrated in a story told by the late Charles Colson in his book “The Body”.  There, he speaks of the British soldiers on the beach at Dunkirk in the early years of World War II.  Many remember the story.  The British were fighting the Germans and had been routed.  They retreated to the French beach “Dunkirk”, where they were in a seemingly hopeless situation.  Expecting imminent capture or death with the coming of German forces upon them, British soldiers broadcast a simple three word message in Morse Code across the English Channel:  “And if not…”

            Most would not recognize the phrase today, but the people of 1940 were more Biblically literate.  They knew it to be a quote from the story of the three boys as they approached the fiery furnace.  They had been sentence to die in the furnace but before they were thrown in, they spoke:

“If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O King.  (And if not), we want you to know, O King, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up…”  (Daniel 3:17-18)

            The three words were from an older translation, but they were still familiar to the population.  The soldiers at Dunkirk were going to stay faithful and true, even if they were never rescued.

            And most know the rest of the story.  The fiery trials revealed the character of those soldiers on the beach.  But it also revealed the character of the British people on the other side of the message.  The result was boats, lots of small boats that sailed across the Channel, rescued the soldiers, and brought them home.  Lots of soldiers found a fourth man in the fire but it took the fire to reveal him.

            This weekend, we are going to speak to those trials of life and how the fire has a way of revealing who we are.  If we were at the edge of the furnace, the beach of Dunkirk, or at any of our contemporary trials, could we too say, “And if not…?”  Let’s talk about this some more.  See you in worship!

Pastor Pete

Boston, Bombs, and Bill

Boston, Bombs, and Bill

            All of us have been struggling to catch our breath in the midst of all the events of this past week.  It has been a whirlwind:  the bombing at the Boston Marathon, a manhunt, an explosion in Texas, floods in Chicago, poison letters in the mail, battles over guns, and oh by the way, a young and reckless leader in North Korea threatening to use his nuclear weapons.

            News anchors and reporters typically see it all.  Even so, I was taken back to see them taken back yesterday morning.  Today (Friday) they were struggling to find words to describe the activities in Boston.  They stumbled and just resorted to terms like “unprecedented” or “I’ve never seen anything like this before…”

            What do we do when the foundations shake?  Psalm 46 says:

“God is our refuge and our strength, an ever-present help in trouble.  Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging…..Be still and know that I am God…” (Psalm 46:1-3, 10)

            As most of you, I have been inspired by the pictures and the stories around Bill Iffrig.  He was the 78 year old runner that was knocked over by the concussion from one of the bombs just fifteen feet from the finish line.  The picture of his fall has gone viral and is on the recent cover of Sports Illustrated.  In an interview, he spoke how his legs suddenly went wobbly in the blast and he went down.  Some folks helped him up and despite the chaos he finished the race.  Many around him offered him a wheelchair, but he refused, preferring to walk the remaining six blocks to his hotel.

            What Bill did is what people of faith do.  Things do happen.  Things occur which knock us over.  Evil wins battles but never the war.  Things feel wobbly and many of us would like to quit.  But then, we get up.  People help us.  We catch our breath, and we continue our way to the finish line.  We do so, not because we are great and strong on our own, but because the foundation upon which we run is stronger than even the explosions that happen around us.  As such, as Psalm 46 states, “we don’t fear though the earth give way”.  We can “be still and know that (he) is God…”

            In all the tragedies, we have a choice.  We can focus on the bombers and the bombs.  Or, we can look at Bill and the thousands of incredible heroes and heroines who offered assistance, who helped Bill up, who go after the bad guys.  Sometimes, getting up depends on where we are looking.  If we look to the finish line, look to the folks around us who help, and not just as the bombs or rumbling earth, we may very well see the living God, who reminds us to be still and keep running. 

            Please join me in praying for all our friends in Boston, and all around us who are still trying to get up and finish this race God has offered us.  Let’s talk more about this in worship this weekend.  See you there,

In Christ,

Pastor Pete

Burning Bush Holiness

               This weekend, we are going to be continuing our “Fire” series, and will be speaking to the story of Moses and the burning bush.  Though we get caught up around many different things within the story, one of the main elements is simply a picture of God’s holiness.  The bush burns with that mysterious holiness of God which at the same time draws us in and makes us fall back in fear.

          We are going to unpack that story in worship with some detail, but this morning, a friend sent me an amazing email which offers an inspiring example of what it means to live a “holy life”.  On Thursday, President Obama posthumously presented the Congressional Medal of Honor to Chaplain Emil J. Kapaun. 

 

          President Obama’s remarks indicated that Chaplain Kapaun served during the Korean War and was among the first American troops that hit the beaches. During a surprise attack by 20,000 Chinese soldiers, he dragged the wounded to safety.  He stayed during an ordered evacuation, tending to the wounded and dying.  When over a dozen wounded Americans were about to be gunned down, Father Kapaun pleaded with a Chinese officer and convinced him to call out to his fellow Chinese.  The shooting stopped and they negotiated a safe surrender, saving those American lives.   Then, as Father Kapaun was being led away, he saw another American -- wounded, unable to walk, laying in a ditch, defenseless.  An enemy soldier was standing over him, rifle aimed at his head, ready to shoot.  Father Kapaun marched over and pushed the enemy soldier aside.  And then as the soldier watched, stunned, Father Kapaun carried that wounded American away.  He carried that injured American, for miles. When other prisoners stumbled, he picked them up.  When they wanted to quit -- knowing that stragglers would be shot -- he begged them to keep walking.  In the camps that winter, deep in a valley, men could freeze to death in their sleep.  Father Kapaun offered them his own clothes.  They starved on tiny rations of millet and corn and birdseed.  He somehow snuck past the guards, foraged in nearby fields, and returned with rice and potatoes.  In desperation, some men hoarded food.  He convinced them to share.  Their bodies were ravaged by dysentery.  He grabbed some rocks, pounded metal into pots and boiled clean water.  They lived in filth.  He washed their clothes and he cleansed their wounds. The guards ridiculed his devotion to his Savior and the Almighty.  They took his clothes and made him stand in the freezing cold for hours.  Yet, he never lost his faith.  If anything, it only grew stronger.  At night, he slipped into huts to lead prisoners in prayer, saying the Rosary, administering the sacraments, offering three simple words:  “God bless you.”  One of them later said that with his very presence he could just for a moment turn a mud hut into a cathedral. That spring, he went further -- he held an Easter service and used the stole shown here in the picture as he celebrated Mass inside that prison camp. 

          It is interesting, one of the men in the audience at the ceremony Thursday was Herb Miller, the soldier that Father Kapaun saved in that ditch and then carried all those miles.

          For the church throughout the centuries, the stole represents holiness.  It reminds us as pastors and clergy that we are “set apart”, we are supposed to be different and testify to a holy God who desires a holy creation.  And yet, it was used so powerfully in the midst of so much pain and mess.  That is a powerful picture of what we will call Sunday, “burning bush holiness…”  Come join us as we talk more about it!   See you there

Emptiness Full of Promise

          This week, I saw a great article by recording artist Carolyn Arends.  She shared a unique quote she heard from her pastor who said in a sermon:

“The world offers promises full of emptiness.  But Easter offers emptiness full of promise.”

          All of us have experienced those empty promises.  We have lived with good intentions that didn’t deliver.  We have lived in a world of smoke and mirrors and things that talk big but just don’t have what it takes to bring it upon the reality of the challenges we face every day.

          But ironically, Easter offers emptiness that is full of promise.  There is an empty cross, an empty tomb, empty grave clothes. 

          There is hope there, because all too often, our lives are simply empty.  Oh sure, we are busy, probably too busy.  Our lives seem very full in many ways, but at the end of the day, when we put our heads to the pillow, all that fullness proves not filling but exhausting and dare we say, empty.

          But Easter offers emptiness full of promise.  Jesus can redeem emptiness.  Like God, he can create something out of nothing.  He can create light out of darkness, and hope out of hopelessness. 

          This Easter weekend, I hope you will join us at one of our Easter services.  The tomb is empty, but our prayer is that our church will be full of those seeking hope, and more importantly the presence of a very real and living Jesus who can still redeem those empty spaces in our lives and world.  See you there, 

Pastor Pete 

How Not to Follow the Crowd

How Not to Follow the Crowd

            Most of us are accustomed to the typical characters in the story of Jesus’ last week.  We see the donkey bringing in Jesus, the disciples at the last supper.  There is Judas betraying him with a kiss in the garden.  We remember Pilate and the religious leaders at the trial of Jesus. 

            But Matthew brings in an additional character to the story.  In fact, this character has been a part of his whole Gospel.  The character was there when he taught the Sermon on the Mount, there when he fed the five thousand, and there in a multitude of other places. 

            Matthew simply calls this character “the crowd” and it takes on a personality all its own.  Jesus never trusted this character.  Though he served them he never gave himself fully to them.  This weekend, “the crowd” shows up again.  They are there, welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem.  They are appropriately shouting words of praise and thanksgiving, cutting branches and putting cloaks in the road to welcome the king.  It is a scene of joy and praise.

            And yet in a foreboding way, for the rest of the week the crowd is silent, that is until Jesus is on trial.  Then, manipulated by the powers that be, they are yelling “Crucify him!” 

            How can this be?  How can a crowd be so excited about Jesus and his coming and then something like seven days later, yell “crucify”?  What is even more disconcerting is the recognition, that this could easily be us.  Every one of us has at one point or another felt that powerful force of the crowd pressing in on us.  The pressure so often turns into a stampede and it feels safer to run with the crowd than to try to step out, stop it, or slow it down.

            But this weekend, we will be reminded that it doesn’t have to be that way.  There are things we can do to avoid this predictable pattern.  Come join us in worship and we will talk more about it.  See you there!

In Christ,

Pastor Pete 

     I remember a time, many years ago when several of my friends and I were frustrated.  We all flew for the Navy, and had just returned home from a very long and hard cruise.  During those days, we did many challenging things; things that were new and hard and had never been done before.  We had all become accustomed to flying on and off aircraft carriers.  The challenging became the norm.  To top it all off, we did it well.  We had a perfect saftey record.  No one had been hurt in those months at sea.

     Our Commanding Officer was very proud of that record, and he was being replaced in two months.  As a result, he was determined to maintain that record.  So, we just didn't fly.  The airplanes which we had flown so intensely for seven months, now just sat in the hangar, and so did we.  Morale sank.  We were miserable, the men working on the planes were miserable, and we just ended up fussing about it all, enduring the days until we had a new Commanding Officer, who would get those planes out of the hangar and into the air where they and we were designed to be.

     This weekend in worshp, we are going to be reminded how this is a fitting illustration of our lives as disciples of Jesus.  We are simply not designed to live life in the hangar.  God has designed us, saved us, and sent us to fly.  When we don't stay active in our primary task, when we become safely moderate instead of boldy serving, we find ourselves frustrated and fussing at one another.  We were never meant to be safe in the spiritual hangar.  Our faith is designed to give us wings.

     I would like to invite all of you to join us in worship this weekend as we listen to the story of Esther.  She did what so many of us yearn to do.  She started as a nominal person of faith, in fact, hiding her faith from all those around her.  But then, something happened that changed her into a woman that not only saved her people but also changed the world.  In this day and age, where we tend to so naturally put a bushel over our lights, we need to hear her story and once again find our faith wings.  Come join us as we talk about this some more!

See you there,
Pastor Pete

Do We Have “B.F.F.s” or “K.O.F’s”?

Do We Have “B.F.F.s” or “K.O.F’s”?

This weekend, we are going to be continuing our “One Month to Live” sermon series and will be speaking to our relationships.  Most of us, if we really had 30 days to live, would want to spend more time with family and close friends.  When push comes to shove, people are what really matter.

            But in our time, this is also a challenge.  According to a recent article in the New York Times, our circle of close friends is getting smaller. Over the past twenty years, the number of people we can discuss "matters important to us" dropped nearly a third. The number of people who said they had no one to talk to about important matters more than doubled, to nearly 25 percent.

The Times article added that this scarcity of close friends has especially impacted mid-lifers:

 “In your 30s and 40s, plenty of new people enter your life, through work, children's play dates and, of course, Facebook. But actual close friends—the kind you make in college, the kind you call in a crisis—those are in shorter supply. As people approach midlife, the days of youthful exploration, when life felt like one big blind date, are fading. Schedules compress, priorities change and people often become pickier in what they want in their friends. No matter how many friends you make, a sense of fatalism can creep in: the period for making B.F.F.'s [best friends forever], the way you did in your teens or early 20s, is pretty much over. It's time to resign yourself to situational friends: K.O.F.'s (kind of friends)—for now.” (Alex Williams, "Friends of a Certain Age," The New York Times, 7-13-12)

            The article says this is just the way it is.  As we get older, we simply are going to have fewer close friends and relationships.  But in contrast, this weekend, we are going to look at the beautiful story of Ruth.  She tells us that it doesn’t have to be this way.  She found strength, hope and power in God and in the people around her.  As all of us strive to “love completely” Ruth can show all of us, including mid-lifers the way.  Come and join us.  You can even bring your “K.O.F”!

See you in worship,

Pastor Pete