Monday Morning Music Ministry

8-27-11

Life happens. As they say. So does death, which merely is to repeat oneself: “Both life and death are parts of the same Great Adventure,” Theodore Roosevelt said, after his son Quentin was shot down over France.

How do we respond to death? Or to the mystery of life? Ironically: how to cope with death’s certainty and to life’s fragility? Sometimes we “lose it.” Sometimes we see through a glass darkly. Sometimes those of us left behind proceed headlong into the business of life. Sometimes we pray to discern God’s will. Sometimes we meditate upon His Word.

My idea is that God does not always hand us multiple-choice quizzes. Sometimes we can do all these things together. They are not mutually exclusive responses.

But always we should trust in His mercy. This is HARD sometimes, fighting the tendency to lean to our own understanding. “His wisdom, yes,” we want to cry; “but where is the mercy?”

Almost exactly a year ago our family was saddened by a miscarriage my daughter Emily suffered, and I wrote a message that attempted to collect my thoughts. This week my other daughter, Heather, lost her baby. Emily and Norman’s came early in her pregnancy; Heather and Patrick’s daughter Sarah, however, was born and died after nine days. The challenges of a 24-week-term birth eventually overwhelmed Sarah’s wracked little body. And I am thinking of a friend this week whose nephew drowned, was recovered but was unconscious, and died after several days .

Our natural minds tend to take over when we try to understand the ways of God.

It is a natural idea that, say, God wants the little baby in Heaven more than He wants her down here. But if that were the entire story, we should wonder why a few days of life, which ultimately adds grief to parents’ joy, can be part of His plan. Yet it is. That we cannot understand it all means, basically, that we are not God, and His mysteries are just that: mysteries. There is sin in the world, so there is death in the world. But after our questions and cries and withdrawal, the mysterious ways of God are to be accepted, embraced, and trusted.

One thing is certain. We shall be united with the living God, and re-united with the healed Sarah, in Heaven some day. We will look around for her, and when we see her, we will have to wait one more brief moment to embrace her, because she will be in Jesus’ lap and in His arms, and then He will pass her to us.

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Some of my meditations on these subjects are well reflected in the lyrics of a gospel song from a few years ago. It is not a line-for-line representation of anyone’s actual thoughts over a baby’s death; not anyone I know. But surely many people, from casual Christians to devoted believers, entertain some of these thoughts. Please listen to the moving performance, and watch the tender pictures. And meditate.

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Click: The Mystery Of the Wonders You Perform

8-20-12

When my sisters and I were children, there was a stretch of Christmas mornings that provided a 55 Walker Avenue version of Hollywood. Our father had a new movie camera and blindingly bright, hot floodlights, and each year he wanted to film us coming down the stairs, acting surprised to see presents under the tree, and laugh like maniacs as we opened them. Every year there would be a little glitch, or a detail shy of his director’s-eye perfection; and we invariably re-staged the scene multiple times. After the fifth “take” or so, the surprise was hard to feign, including over the presents we ultimately were permitted to open.

It was a little tedious, frankly, for us children. But such are the demands of show business. Ah, the burdens of being a star, even of amateur 8-mm home movies. We laugh about it now. Dad meant the best, wanting to create instant memories. Those few years actually stand out from all the other years of orgiastic wrapping-paper frenzy. Home movie cameras were new toys for guys like Dad; and, frankly, so was fatherhood. Part of the fun of life is trying to program life, and another part of the fun of life is when the “programming” doesn’t quite work out — coping, rolling, and watching memories create themselves.

Another, more common, rite of passage in childhood and parenthood is the faulty programming in finding the “perfect” present at gift-giving times. How many parents have noticed (and, I hope, eventually laughed about) the ultimately futile planning, or the anticipated delight over some gift, that falls flat? Perhaps the boy had been asking for a certain toy, or the girl was wishing for a certain doll; maybe they saw things in friends’ houses, or in stores, or, God help us, television commercials. Then comes Christmas morning, or their birthdays, and…

… the reaction is indifference. Worse yet, for parents-as-directors, even without cameras in tow, is when the child takes more interest in the packaging than the gift, like when the box becomes a train or an ersatz doll house. How many times does it happen? A boy receives an action figure, but reverts to his time-worn Teddy Bear at, literally, the end of the day. A little girl receives the fanciest of dolls; but she winds up dragging around, and snuggling with, her beat up Raggedy Ann. Sometimes the most precious of toys and dolls are even ones that are cast-offs, the ones that were found and “rescued.”

But there is something life-affirming in those tendencies, not just because we can see kids asserting their preferences and thinking about choices, making little declarations of independence, a good thing for parents to see.

I believe that when children make such choices – the beat-up over the shiny; the broken over the new, things needing patching up because they are not “perfect” – they exhibit a spirit that God plants in each of us. He wants to nurture certain impulses, and have us encourage it in others too, especially our children.

That spirit is the spirit of charity (whose biblical meaning, when the King James translators did their work, is “love”) and of service to others. I believe that the spirit motivating a child to cherish a beat-up Teddy will often manifest itself when that child, a few years later, prays, say, for lost souls. Or cares for hurting neighbors. And the oppressed and persecuted. Doing missions work across the world, or supporting it close by, or practicing it with neighbors. And to strangers they meet.

And that child who cherishes a broken doll and loves it and tries to mend it, will grow up, with our nourishment and encouragement, to care for the broken ones she will meet in life. People in jeopardy who seek her out, or whom she seeks and finds. Life’s cast-aways. She will be a doctor or a nurse or a teacher or a care-giver or some sort of volunteer. She will not be reluctant, but will rather embrace, the likes of addicts and victims of abuse.

Broken ones. Jesus came to fix the Broken Ones. And even if we have not been, say, persecuted for our faith, or are victims of abuse – or even have not been persecutors or abusers ourselves – we still need mending, every one of us. We are all broken. Are there enough “menders” to embrace a broken world?

Jesus was a carpenter who mended broken bodies. And He was the Great Physician who ministered to invisible souls. Holy irony. These actions are but two of the many ways we are to “imitate” Christ. When it is done for the sake of Christ, with His message as part of the caring, we make a gift of the best present anyone can receive. This should be the ultimate motivation for loving each other.

Tend to the broken ones. In life’s home movies, we find ourselves, gratefully, taking direction from God. To become “stars” – but stars in His crown, alongside our fellow once-brokens and patched-up neighbors.

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The “theme” for this message, its inspiration, is the great song “The Broken Ones,” by the Talley Trio. In it (and the music video by James and Angela Rowe) we follow a little girl who, indeed, found a tattered Raggedy Ann doll and cared for it despite its missing arm and dangling button-eye. Fast forward to the girl as a shelter caregiver, tending to a 17-year-old hopeless girl, a battered addict. Caring for Broken Ones is to follow the Perfect One.

This week my little (one pound, 11-ounce) granddaughter Sarah, born at 24 weeks, teeters between life and death. Her life is fragile enough, but a day after being born she suffered lung and brain hemorrhages. God is in control, and His mercy prevails. In the NICU, hour by hour, however, His hands ARE the doctors and nurses, caring for the Broken Ones.

Click: The Broken Ones

8-13-12

Hey, God. It’s Me Again. You know I realize the importance in approaching You in reverence and awe; and I usually do; and it often bothers me when Your people do not. But I need a little more of the way we can also approach You in prayer – I love that you have so many facets! – as if we are on a first-name basis. Which we are.

I have been seeking you hard this week, God. And when I have not prayed, I have the feeling that You have read my heart even better, anyway. And You have answered me in the thousand ways that You always surprise me. Remembering Your promises at odd moments. Hearing from friends who care. Catching an old favorite gospel song on the radio. Thinking of Bible verses I didn’t realize I had memorized… in fact, some of them I KNOW I had not memorized. How do You do that???

And then You spoke to me. No, I can’t tell whether You have a deep voice or a raspy one, or what accent You have. But I found myself KNOWING things, and knowing they were from You. They made sense, they brought me peace, and I could never have such wisdom on my own. Like the other day: I was thinking, with all my problems and frustrations and vulnerability and despair – the day I wanted to just get in a car and drive for three days, with no destination in mind – and, remember?, my cry that I felt like a faulty Christian? It had to come from You that I was not a faulty Christian, but in Your eyes, I was just… a Christian.

And then I felt I knew Your heart that no Christian is “just” a Christian, because that is the best You want for us! And I remembered that Your Word says that problems don’t evaporate when we accept Christ. You tell me they will even increase. I know that. But I have Your arm to lean on, a rod and staff to comfort me, a presence even in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, that You are an ever-present help in times of trouble. God, I realized how cold and alone people who don’t know You must feel.

You have brought me peace. I thought a couple times that I understood it. But, you know, it passes understanding.

But in healing my hurts, in being a God who listens and whispers back, You brought me more than peace. You brought me miracles. You might not know this – well, I guess You do! – but I feel like real miracles have touched me now, at the end of this trial. You know what I mean:

I felt so “down”… and now I am filled with joy.

I have felt so dumb and acted so stupidly… but You gave me knowledge of so many profound truths.

I have been blind, and missed so many things right in front of me… but You made me see. Clearly.

I was not listening to You or Your promises or Your children in so many ways… but now I hear Your words, Your sweet music.

I have been lame, feeling crippled in my “walk” with You… but right about now, God, You have me dancing!

And something that’s hard to understand, and harder to explain to other people, is something else I KNOW is true. This has been a tough week, God, and I thank You for answering my prayers; but slap me silly if I ever pray again that I want to live in a world where these trials simply do not exist. In that kind of world I would never need to turn to You, or want to know You better, or feel Your love, or be touched by Your miracles. I don’t want to get adjusted to THAT world. With You just a prayer away, I’ll keep it right here.

And, God… thanks again.

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North Dakota’s own Mitchel Jon leads a group of singers in a re-creation of a vintage camp meeting. On the grounds of the Billy Graham Conference Center, the Cove, outside Asheville NC. It is the Gaither Homecoming Friends; and, yes, that is George Beverly Shea you see at the video’s end, enjoying every note of this classic song, at age 100+.

Click: I Don’t Want To Get Adjusted

8-6-12

Recently I heard a world-famous preacher talk about God’s promises. Actually, it was the wife of a world-famous preacher, who had developed quite a thriving business with her own ministry. These days it seems that evangelists and big-name ministers are not just called to preach the Gospel, but called to be the wife, or son, of a big-name preacher. Prosperity often follows.

Actually, that was the topic – prosperity – of this evangelista, who shall remain nameless. But Victoria Osteen is not the only prophet of the Prosperity Gospel these days. Many of my brothers and sisters in the Pentecostal churches, and in other corners of Christianity, frequently preach about prosperity, “seed offerings,” the blessings that await the faithful – under the general, spiritual umbrella of “receiving God’s promises.”

Content warning: I do not intend to join the debate, here, on the theology of what should be a more active discussion in today’s American church. I want to address our response to the promises of God, not whether people are wasting chances for nice homes and cars, or whether people are wickedly twisting the words of the Bible, or whether naiveté or agendas have driven new translations and understandings.

For my own part, the plausibility of God’s intention to shower me with material things was shaken years ago when the magazine of a favorite evangelist printed a chart that explained the “hundredfold return” that Jesus promised. It explained by simple arithmetic how dollars given as offering would return in dollars that were, well, one hundred times greater. A sure bet.

Mark 10:28-31: Then Peter began to say to Him, “See, we have left all and followed You.” So Jesus answered and said, “Assuredly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or lands, for My sake and the gospel’s, who shall not receive a hundredfold now in this time – houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions – and in the age to come, eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last first.”

Hmmm. Christ’s fine print included sacrifices that do not mention money; results in this life and the next; persecutions might be numbered among the “dividends”; and a warning against expecting anything by formula. It IS called the Hundredfold “Return,” not “Reward.”

So much for not joining the debate, but I do urge us all to think about God’s promises for a moment. God had made many promises to us, His children. Many more than we realize. More than most of us ever… take advantage of? … receive? With terms like that we stray close to presumption, a sin. Not petitioning God to do something, not expecting, but presuming He will do something; and as it turns out in the circumstances of believers, it translates to Him do doing something we want. Not usually the mode of the Almighty.

Bookstores are full of biblical “Promise Books”… and should be. Indeed, God has made many promises. In fact, besides the history and commandments, we can say that the entire Bible is “God’s Promise Book”! Some of God’s promises are conditional, of course. But His greatest promise – eternal life bought by the substitutionary death of His Son – is unconditional. Jesus died while we were yet sinners, and we are free to accept or reject this unspeakable gift according to His grace.

How often do the evangelists talk about OUR promises, in between “calling in” those of God? Every one of us, maybe in different ways, have made the same promises to God – when we received Christ into our hearts; when we have been hurting; when we have sought forgiveness; after we have sinned; at times of confusion; when crises have hit; during challenges in the areas of health, finances, career, loved ones; and so forth in an endless list. When we recite the Lord’s Prayer or the Creeds, we exchange promises with God. The mere act of repentance – a frequent thing for Christians – is tantamount to making a promise.

… and how often do we break our promises to God? How many times do we sin? The thoughts, words, and deeds, even of “saints,” are not perfect. We break our word to the Creator of the Universe, the master of our souls. Often. And we have the audacity to call God out about what we perceive to be His promises to us? God cannot lie, no… but let us be a little humble about this Promise thing. As Micah wrote, He has showed you, oh man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?

Does God want us to prosper? I say that it is not inconsistent with His will. But I have a friend who once said to me, with tears in his eyes, “I KNOW if I were rich, I would lose control of myself in a lot of ways, afford the sins I used to lust over… probably kill myself in the process.” If this man was correct about himself, it would be a merciful God who would prosper him in radically different ways.

Farther along, we will understand the finer points of theology. But we can receive the spiritual blessings of justice, mercy, and humility, right now. That is a solid promise we can take to the REAL bank.

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Part of a Christian’s humility is accepting that we will never know some things… or know them “farther along.” Here that great old hymn of faith is sung in a living-room setting – complete with flubbed lines! – by three of the most beautiful singers, and beautiful voices, in music today: Suzy Bogguss, who opens and sings the verses; Matraca Berg; and Gretchen Peters on the mandolin. A prosperity of talent! (With the line, “And still we wonder why others prosper…”)

Click: Farther Along