Pondering God? Which One?

Harry Emerson Fosdick tells of a young girl who was very troubled by some passages in the Old Testament where God commanded Saul to smite the Amalekites, and “not spare them, but kill both man and woman, infant and suckling, ox and sheep, camel and ass.”  So the girl’s father read to her some passages from the later Hebrew prophets—such as “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God”—and from the New Testament:  “Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God, and he who loves is born of God and knows God.”  The girl sat silent for a moment and then said, “Daddy, God grew better as he got older, didn’t he?”  

Has your God grown better as you have grown older?  Are you seeing the God of the Old Testament or the God of the New Testament? No intelligent person can retain faith in God unless his or her God does grow better, as that person, gets older.  The old covenant has been superseded by a NEW ONE!   God has grown better.  

No Place for Christian Snobbishness

 Church folk continue to ignore this fact:  “The Christian Church is a society of sinners.  It is the only society in the world, membership in which is based upon the single qualification that the candidate shall be unworthy of membership.”  (Charles C. Morrison, What Is Christianity).

To be a member of the Church then, does not put you above anyone else, nor does it make you better than anyone else.

Let's Party!

Last month I became an octogenarian. I threw a big party to celebrate my 80th year and my fifty -plus years of ministry in this community. About 80 people gathered in my home on that Sunday afternoon to party with me. It was wonderful! 

“It seems as though we homo sapiens are possessed by a compulsion to complain,” my friend George Prettyman at the age of 79 wrote in his 1991 newspaper column. “The weather, for one thing. The price of groceries…or gasoline…or fish…whatever. And if there’s nothing better to fuss about, we gripe about having recorded a number of years on our lifometer. Yes, we complain about getting older when it ought to be obvious that the alternative is pretty grim.”

The one thing I fear in this new chapter of life is not that grim alternative which will come eventually. What I fear most is becoming a “grumpy old man!” I don’t want to be a person who always sees the glass as half empty. I don’t want to sit on my duff and complain about the world situation or about the degeneration of the new generation of youth. I don’t want to dwell on the “Yesterday when I was young” as some kind of idyllic time. It wasn’t! In spite of some creaks in my joints, and some “forgetfulness,” I don’t want to harp on that kind of thing either. Nor, do I want to be a person who goes around saying “Jesus will take care of everything” and ignore reality and my own personal responsibility to make a difference.

Let’s party! We’ve been invited. We’re wanted at this party—a “Pourer of New Wine” will be there. Those of us who come to this grace-party will be inebriated—“sanely intoxicated” (as Keating wrote). We will be drinking the wine of a new and heightened life. That’s what I want in my eightieth year—“a new and heightened life!” It can be so, I am told, if I go to the party.

Paul's Birthday

Today is my eldest son’s birthday.  Paul was born in “Almost heaven, West Virginia” (“Blue Ridge mountains, Shenandoah river.  Life is old there, older than the trees, Younger than the mountains, growin’ like a breeze”).  I was a junior in college at the time.  We lived in a 35-foot trailer on the college campus.  Paul’s first bedroom was a wardrobe closet where the “porta-crib” just barely fit.  He didn’t seem to mind and somehow we managed to live together quite happily. Paul’s sons, Austin and Nick, have enjoyed teasing their dad about being born in a “trailer park” in West Virginia.  Today, Austin and his wife, Katie, actually live in West Virginia—but not in a trailer park!

“Swiftly flow the days…Wasn’t it only yesterday when he was small?  Swiftly fly the years.”  What joy we knew when unto us a son was born, a gift given, and the gift named, Paul, on February 26, 1966!   That same joy marks this day, February 26, 2023.  Happy Birthday, Paul!

Paul, Rachel, "Dad at 80" and Luke

 

Paul in that "little" trailer

Paul and his "Mom"

Paul and Helen

Paul with his sons:  Austin and Nick

Unto us a son is born...we named the gift, Paul.

Unto Us A Child Was Born on The Second Day of Christmas

Merry Christmas to all who should happen to read this blog and a very Happy Birthday to our youngest son, Luke.  Some might say Luke was born “the day after Christmas” which sounds so anti-climatic and piddling.  And it just isn’t so!  There is nothing anti-climactic or piddling about Luke, in his birth, or in the journey he has traveled since.  Luke was born on the Second Day of Christmas!  Doesn’t that sound a whole lot better?  I think so.

“Unto us a child was born, a son was given” forty-six years ago on this Second day of Christmas. Needless to say, Christmas 1977 was an extraordinary one!  When Luke was born his brother, Paul, was eleven years old; his sister, Rachel Elisabeth, was ten. Luke brought a whole new dimension to our family and we are forever grateful.  

Happy Birthday, Luke.  May your day be a special one, as you have made all our days, since your coming, so very special.

Advent Hope: I Will Sing a New Song

 For many an Advent season, I’ve read Howard Thurman’s little book, The Mood of Christmas.   The book always lifts my spirit.  It helps me get in the proper mood for Advent.   I’ve always found synonyms helpful in getting at the “depth” of a particular word.  Synonyms for the word “mood” are: frame of mind, attitude, feeling, outlook, perspective, temperament, disposition, responsiveness, feeling, sentiment, emotion, etc.

Synonyms for the word “Advent,” help me get a handle on the real meaning of the word and the season:  

—something is “coming”

—something is about to “arrive”

—it is the “onset” of something new

—an “appearance” is about to occur

—something is “approaching”

—a new “entrance” is anticipated.

Thurman captures the “mood” of Advent in  “I Will Sing a New Song:”

The old song of my spirit has wearied itself out.

It has long ago been learnt by heart;

It repeats itself over and over,

Bringing no added joy to my days or lift to my spirit.

I will sing a new song.

I must learn the new song for the new needs.

I must fashion new words born of all the new growth

   of my life—of my mind—of my spirit.

I must prepare for new melodies that have

   Never been mine before,

That all that is within me may lift my voice unto God.

Therefore, I shall rejoice with each new day

And delight my spirit in each fresh unfolding.

I will sing, this day, a new song unto the Lord.

A Happy (Belated) Anniversary

 I’m not very good at remembering birthdays, anniversaries, and other such celebrations of life.  Through the years I’ve published and updated a family directory which includes birth dates, weddings, and other pertinent information for my family: siblings, their children, and their children’s children (including my own).  That should have helped me, but it hasn’t.  This year I wrote some of these important celebrations on my calendar hoping that would help.  It didn’t!  You see, for 57 years “ma Cherie” Cher always took care of that kind of thing.

So you can imagine the chagrin I felt on Thanksgiving Day when someone mentioned Paul and Helen’s recent wedding anniversary.  They were married on November 21st thirty years ago.  I was there!  I even took part in their wedding ceremony!  And I totally forgot their anniversary!

I have no excuse for my negligence (even though I’ve tried to find one). I forgot—totally forgot their 30th wedding anniversary!  

But I have not forgotten the thirty years of watching them grow in love together.  I have not forgotten what wonderful parents they have been for their two sons.  I have not forgotten the warmth of their home. I have not forgotten any of that—I just forgot the date.  I have not forgotten how much they mean to me, nor how much I love, care, and admire  them.  Happy (Belated) Anniversary, Paul and Helen.