Monday Morning Music Ministry

9-5-22

An emotional week around here, capped by a funeral this morning. “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this” – I have attended too many lately, and occasionally I have been inspired to share thoughts, with your indulgence. They all are not “funereal” these days, as services do not have to be maudlin. When my family conducted a hospital ministry, we were introduced to joyous “home-going” services in Black churches; and they altered our various perspectives.

But today’s instance was about the hardest of all challenges to a family and friends, because 17-year-old Aaron – not his name, but it will be here – decided himself that it was time for his home-going. Permit me the euphemisms.

Hard enough, of course, but the act was more jarring because only hours earlier he was out with friends, laughing in diners, taking selfies. Only weeks before he decided to be baptized, and even presented his testimony of renewed faith in Christ and the joy it brings. Only months before he had “graduated” from a program that works with youth who experience episodes of depression, sometimes having attempted extreme measures to escape the anxieties they felt.

Yes, Aaron had for several years been in and out of ugly depression and occasional feelings of rejection, self-loathing, irrationality. The world saw the happy kid – intelligent, handsome, popular, and always (counter-intuitively?) faithful to Jesus. A daily Bible reader. Keeper of theologically introspective journals.

Questions. Of course there are questions.

Despite what our contemporary world insists we blithely believe, that “nothing matters anyway”… we need to ask questions, but there are no answers. Certainly not to everything; no Googling, no experts, not even – horrors, can I say it? – not even in the Bible. Listen: if we knew everything, we would be God. The Bible has answers for all that we need, but not every thing we want, or wonder about. And as soul-searing as some things are, even “sanctified” curiosity will remain mysteries until we gain Eternity.

That’s hard, but it’s true.

We ask, WHY?

And the world mockingly answers, Why not?

I think God answers, The important question is not Why, but What – in this instance, What did Aaron make of his life? What did he do in his life? What are the ways he touched people? What difference did he make?

The “why” questions involve a sort of permissible selfishness, as I recently discussed in this space. Of course we feel horrible for the soul who has “passed,” but the largest ingredient of Mourning is… mourning for ourselves. How we will miss our child, sibling, or friend. Mourning for the sudden hole in our lives. And that is OK.

But I had the thought during the service that every life means something. Every. Life. Modest people might think that’s true for others but not for them. No. That’s not life’s way. It’s not God’s way.

We all have meaning, we have effects. We can see this… or not. We can plan it… or not. It can be acknowledged… or not. Effects can live after us… No: they do live after us. Our lives matter; what we do matters. All of us, in little ways or big, actually want to make a difference.

So in that way, whether you live 17 years or 117 years, what you do matters. It matters to other people. It matters to God.

In that perspective, our friend Aaron packed a lot of “meaning” into 17 years. Impressing uncountable people with his good nature, adventurous spirit, and Christian activities. In a bizarre and seemingly cruel circumstance, it was precisely a year ago that his cousin and best friend, almost the same age to the day, was laid to rest after suddenly dying of a brain aneurysm; he also had packed an A+ personality and smarts and Bible study and social activity into a “brief” life.

I know it’s not a Bible verse, but we think of the phrase “Quality, not quantity” in the cases of young men like them.

In my own family’s hospital ministry mentioned above, the toughest questions we were asked by transplant-listed patients, families, or survivors was Why? Why me? Why my brother, why my son? I finally felt liberated – able better to minister in some small way – when one morning I answered, “I don’t know!!!”

The important and essential follow-up is, “Let’s pray about it. Let’s seek God.” Maybe we can cope a little bit better; maybe we can find peace; maybe there is healing indeed under the shadow of God’s wings (Psalm 36:7).

And maybe we can discern, and celebrate, and savor, the meaning of that person’s life… and as tough as it seems, choosing instead to look beyond only the length of his days.

If we can receive those blessings, we can start to make sense of things. And that’s a good road to travel when other paths lead to bitter tears and confusion and anger and resentment.

Life can be mean… but we must seek out the meaning. The seeking, itself, is a balm. And then we realize, as I asked above, that death can be a detail, but life is a fact.

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Video Click: Does Jesus Care?

8-15-22

A friend and neighbor of mine, Gary Mueller, died this week. He was in his 80s – a sweet, enthusiastic, generous white-haired gentleman of my church who became a buddy when I was a newcomer. We shared a hundred coffees in McDonald’s; we shuffled around farmer’s markets together; we talked religion and politics (agreeing, happily); I have laughed endlessly with his wife Edith; and I met his grandson Matt from Texas. We worked grills at many VBS days.

But mostly (in my memory, now) Gary loved Jesus. And it showed: he “reflected” the Savior. Gerhard was born in Jaegerndorf in central Europe; his German family had been separated and passed through West German towns, escaping Communism, working as they could; then to the United States. He met Edith, who had a similar life-path, and they were grateful to God and to America for the freedoms wherewith they were blessed.

Gary was always hale and healthy, on his jobs and especially, after retirement, in our church – anything that needed doing, it seemed that Gary was there before pros were called. But he got sick recently, and had a cancerous kidney removed. My late wife had a kidney transplant, so my prayers were focused (not that God requires the use of medical terms and medicines). As I understand it, he returned home somewhat uncomfortable and requested a follow-up. Cancerous tumors were found elsewhere through his body. All so quickly, Gary died.

It might seem odd that my grieving over Gary’s death brought me to think about selfishness, but please stick with me – and be merciful to me, as I have asked of God. I honor Gary; I grieve for Edith; I am grateful for our friendship. In fact, a week ago I wanted to hand-write a letter to Gary telling him (reminding him) of how I loved him, and what he has meant to me as a friend. But I never got around to writing that, much less mailing it (e-mails pretend to be personal, but never will be).

I have book deadlines. I had meetings. Yada yada, I had “things to do.” Hours turn into days; days turn into weeks; weeks…

When you are too busy to write a friend, or call; when you are too busy to connect with a friend, or to re-connect with an old friend; when you are too busy to “just say Hi”; when you are too busy to say you appreciate someone, or share a Jesus-moment, or ask “How are you?” and really mean it…

… you are TOO busy.

But this is not about scolding myself or anyone. Gary is gone, and maybe he never would have seen that note anyway. I was not trying to impress Edi. No, I found myself consumed about MY thoughts, MY regrets, MY tardiness. And eventually, MY grief, MY loss that I will feel. I realized I was being selfish. “Why are MY feelings so important?”

As I prayed for wisdom, I realized how strange grief and mourning are – when our loved ones are in the arms of Jesus, healed and glorified. Isn’t our grief, somehow, actually a bit of mourning for ourselves? How we will miss the husband, the grandfather, the friend?

And if so… is that bad?

Self. This life is not a dichotomy of self versus the rest of humanity. Not “either/or.” Not us and everyone else. God wants His children to be thinking of us AND everyone else. When Jesus went to the cross it was for all of humanity; all of the sins of “whosoever.” He looked into your eyes and mine. We as individuals were as important to Him as… all the other individuals! We should not feel guilty about our feelings, hurts, regrets in that view, because Jesus did not lay that on us. We must bear each other’s burdens, as He bore ours.

I am not talking about sins of omission. I am talking about a proper discernment of what God would have us do. That is, to DO — not obsess over what was missed. “Look out for Number One”? If we are effective ambassadors of Christ, we cannot drag baggage around on our missions.

We can be faithful stewards if we serve God by serving others. And rely on the Bible, not Rules of Etiquette. I am talking about being bold for Christ who lives within you.

Think ahead and imagine the end of your life, without being morbid of course. I mean – do not let yourself be in a position where you had been too busy to to write a friend, or call; or you were too busy to connect with a friend, or re-connect with an old friend; or when you were too busy to “just say Hi”; when you were too busy to have said that you appreciate someone, or shared a Jesus-moment, or had asked “How are you?” and really meant it…

Jesus cares for you, not only “humanity.” Take heart, and take action.

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Please watch and be blessed —

Video Click: Does Jesus Care

5-27-19

Alexa, Siri, Hey-Google… 2019, meet 1984. Ten years ago, the FBI Director calmly told a Congressional committee that he (even he) puts tape over his computer screen’s mini-camera lens. A friend of mine who has worked in sensitive national intelligence schooled me about secret surveillance a few years ago – we should regard the “off” buttons of our electronic communications devices as irrelevant: they still listen and watch us.

Not can listen and watch. They do. “You can turn your lamp off,” he explained; “but electricity still runs through it.”

Do we care? Most of us don’t. Should we? Most of us say Yes, but surrender to the inevitability; or to the futility of resistance. Sometimes we joke about it. But it is not funny.

On the other hand (a very other hand), God watches us all the time. He even knows our minds, reads our thoughts. And our hearts.

About this reality – not a scary rumor or headline – I believe that people react in one of three ways.

* They become numb to it, hoping that God will not really notice the details of our existence and the fine-print of our lives. Or that eventually He will grade us on a curve;

* They become paranoid to the point, perhaps, of ceasing to believe in God, which they think is an easier way to cope; or to believe in a fuzzy version of God that the world manufactures as a conscious-salving substitute;

* Or they believe, trust, accept. Repent. Reform. Welcome, not fear, His watch over us. Use the truth of this reality as a discipline to act right, and please Him. This may be called a Conscience; so be it. Its agent is the Holy Spirit, sent to indwell us.

I pray we all choose what’s behind Door Number Three.

Then we will discover that God is not a spiritual spy, but a companion. A familiar Friend. The One who represents conversations waiting to happen. My daughter Heather used to audibly chat with God while driving or doing household chores. My friend Marlene Bagnull will pray in the middle of conversations with friends – “Father, please…” thus and so; seldom saying “Amen” as she switches back to human-chat – a sort of Constant Comment not bound by teacups. Cool examples, I think.

Yes, He watches us; knows our hearts. But you know what? We can listen to Him. I like to call studying the Bible “eavesdropping on God.”

“Big Brother is watching”? Only if you see that brother as Christ – Jesus our elder Brother! And welcome His fellowship!

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Click: How About Your Heart?

Andrae Crouch has died. For the few who don’t know his name, that gap is filled by the fact that all of America and much of the world knows his music. His pop credentials included movie scores (“The Lion King,” “The Color Purple”), producing and working with Michael Jackson, Quincy Jones, and many others. But he was a gospel singer, composer, preacher, first. And foremost. His father pastored the New Christ Memorial Church of God in Christ, a Holiness / Pentecostal church in Los Angeles; and he and his sister Sandra succeeded in the pulpit.

His many hymns and gospel songs became hits on gospel radio and especially, at first, in churches of the Jesus Movement and the Charismatic Renewals decades ago. Then they spread, ironically (for Andrae was Black) more and more into the Black church, and into the hymnals of mainstream denominations. The songs God gave him are eternal: if the Lord tarries, people will be moved to tears, and to repentance, by Andrae’s songs for generations to come.

They will hear in his lyrics the same problems they have; the same doubts and overcoming; the same humility and gratitude; the same victories; the same joy.

Andrae did have many problems and challenges. The Holy Spirit gave him spiritual persistence. Because he prayed for that. This man who performed at humble urban missions and at vast Billy Graham crusades, winning seven Grammys along the way, fought throat cancer for a decade, and died at 72 from a heart attack.

His very first composition was “The Blood Will Never Lose Its Power,” now a standard Communion hymn in many churches. Other familiar gospels songs are “My Tribute,” whose familiar incipit line is “To God Be the Glory”; “Take Me Back”; “Soon and Very Soon”; “Jesus Is the Answer”; “Let the Church Say Amen”; and “Through It All.”

My old friend Craig Yoe, who knew Andrae before either of them was a household name, is our Guest Essayist today:

What a week! First my cartoonist comrades, their co-workers and others – and freedoms – were murdered by horrible, horrible masked terrorists. And on January 8, I learned that the great Andrae Crouch has passed from this coil that is so mortal. 

I feel for and pray for the musical artist’s family. 

They might find some very small comfort in their great loss to know that in reviewing Andrae’s signature song “Through It All,” after hearing of his demise, that I have found some healing for my own heart troubled by the world’s agony.

Andrae Crouch was such a great human being. I had him sing at the hippie-church in Akron, Ohio in the early 1970s that I pastored. And I engaged him to perform with his musical associates, including his gifted sister Sandra, for a special concert I produced back in the day.

I’ll always remember when he came to my little home. After dinner the smiling Andrae jumped up to scrub the dishes. Jesus set the example of leadership by washing feet; Andrae, in that spirit, washed and dried my rummage sale-bought chipped-up dishes. 

After the concerts of Andrae Crouch and the Disciples, Andrae would jump up from the piano to talk to folks who came forward to shake his hand and offer thanks. And he’d seek out the often forlorn ones of that group suffering from drugs and other abuses of life, and share with them into the wee hours of the night. You know, the people who were the “least of these.” 

Andrae and I disagreed on things, like his belief that faith should bring people wealth, but he certainly was no respecter of persons and generous with his time – and wealth. 

Andrae would always look people straight in the eye with love, leaning in close and call the folks he was conversing with “brother” and “sister.” That wasn’t just some off-hand catch-phrase with the singer/minister. He deeply believed it, and so did the people he talked to as a result. 

Everybody was family. I even remember Andrae generously inviting me and my ex to come stay with him. He told me there were plenty of people there. I got the idea that his home was always open.  

He just couldn’t turn off the love. 

Oh, and, of course, Andrae Crouch was a brilliant, moving, singer filled with the Holy Spirit – that goes without saying.

And he was recognized by the non-brethren and sisters. Andre was the go-to guy when people like Michael Jackson and Madonna wanted a gospel sound for a song they were recording. The dude won seven Grammys – not too shabby! 

I’m sure Andrae wasn’t perfect. But he lived a life that was exemplary. Lord knows we need the likes of more of him in this world. He has left the world and we all now must step up. 

We’ll miss this brother’s example. But, wow, the heavenly choir just got better!

I remember Andrae closing his concerts with “Through It All” and asking the audience at the end to sing along. And this part is still in my head decades later… 

I’ve had many tears and sorrows,
I’ve had questions for tomorrow,
There’s been times I didn’t know right from wrong.
But in every situation,
God gave me blessed consolation,
That my trials come, to only make me strong.

Through it all,
Through it all,
I’ve learned to trust in Jesus,
I’ve learned to trust in God.

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Craig Yoe has been a worker with the blind, a sewer worker, a nightclub owner, a church pastor, a banana salesman, a toy inventor, a creative director for The Muppets, Disney, and Nickelodeon, an author, a book designer, and a cartoonist of sorts. 

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Many Christians have memorized the words, even if not the tune, to an internal verse of “Through It All,” explaining brilliant mysteries of life’s challenges: “I thank God for the mountains, and I thank Him for the valleys; I thank Him for the storms He brought me through. For if I’d never had a problem, I wouldn’t know that God could solve them; I’d never know what faith in God could do.” A sermon in song. I dont’t know if ever made a song of this, but in last painful years, Andrae said he was given a message, and prayed to God: “Lord, heal the wounds, but leave the scars.” A humble, gifted servant. Performing here: CeCe Winans and a room of gospel legends at the Billy Graham Retreat Center, the Cove.

Click: Through It All