There’s a quote from the late Rev. William Sloane Coffin that sums things up in his typical fashion:  “I love the recklessness of faith.  First you leap, then you grow wings.”                                                                                               

The Letter to the Hebrews puts it this way in chapter 11:  Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval. By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible.  (NRSV)

Through faith, we know, but we don’t know.  Our heart is convinced, even when our head is not so sure.  When we want everything quantified, measured, and verifiable, we’re seeking control.  When we approach life with faith, God is in control.  Personally, I would prefer that God held the reins.

This is especially true for the life of the church.  Recently, the pope declared that the Roman Catholic Church was the only “true church.”  This comes as news to the rest of the world, not under his thumb.  Just because we’re beyond his control doesn’t relegate other Christians to “less than” status.

God’s heart is much larger, of course, and I’m not picking on the pope.  Others have made similar claims, based on the “purity” of their doctrine or practice, again trying to exert control.  Who wants to let such people be in charge?

To leap first and grow wings later means we trust that God’s call to love our neighbor, to seek justice, and to be generous and hospitable, is the proper response to the people around us, even when we’re not sure how it all will turn out.   It means we’re free to dream big, even when we can’t necessarily see how those dreams will be fulfilled.  It means that life is for living, confident of the abundance of God’s blessings.

Rather than narrow everything down to a manageable size, faith liberates our hearts and our minds, revealing a wide-open, unlimited future into which God bids us, all the while promising to bless us in ways we cannot imagine – or control.

A funeral home in a town where I was the pastor of a Disciples congregation usually sent to local clergy a huge gift basket at Christmas.  It was nice to receive, but I admit I wondered about the reason it was sent.  Was the owner, Bob, appreciative of pastors in general?  Was it an inducement to recommend his services to grieving families?   Was it a deductible business expense that gave him a desired tax break?  I don’t know.  I just remember being surprised the first year I received his gift. 

I also was surprised to learn from Bob a year or two later that when he changed his approach and instead made donations to a charitable organization in the names of the pastors, who were notified by the charity, he received negative feedback from some of my colleagues.  Bob seemed truly perplexed as he told me about it.  He thought he was honoring us by supporting a worthy cause.  I guess some of the ministers really wanted that basket of goodies. 

The next year, they got it. 

Gift giving can be a tricky business.  Meanings are attached to and derived from what is given, how it is given, its value, and the reciprocal expectations it may carry.  Many gifts are really tokens, items with no real function or use other than to let the recipient know they were remembered on their special occasion.  Sometimes it’s just easier to write a check than to put actual thought into what might be offered as a gift.   

Those who receive the gift may or may not express gratitude or appreciation, and the writing of thank you notes is becoming virtually a lost practice.  We have to admit, that although a gift honors the other person, our willingness to repeat the act in the future is tempered by the response we do or do not receive.  Human dynamics get complicated sometimes. 

Each day really is a gift from God:  the air we breathe, the sunshine or rain, food, laughter, opportunities, everything that comes our way.  It’s fortunate for us, really, that our level of gratitude, as expressed through our prayers or simply through the ways we use our time and interact with others, doesn’t determine whether there will be a tomorrow. 

God’s love is characterized by lots of patience, it seems to me.

There seem to be technical difficulties with this site, fouling up the guestbook and poll.  So, after wrestling with all of that for a while, I simply have deleted them.  We're back to only doing the entries.

You still can make it interactive if you post a comment by clicking the link underneath each entry, or by sending me an email at ghblog@yahoo.com.

Sorry about that!

Someone sent me a "Muslim, Jewish, Christian Prayer for Peace," published by Pax Christi USA/Fellowship of Reconciliation:

O God, you are the source of life and peace.  Praised be your name forever.  We know it is you who turn our minds to thoughts of peace.  Hear our prayer in this time of war.

Your power changes hearts.  Muslims, Christians, and Jews remember, and profoundly affirm, that they are followers of the one God, children of Abraham, brothers and sisters; enemies begin to speak to one another; those who were estranged join hands in friendship; nations seek the way of peace together.

Strengthen our resolve to give witness to these truths by the way we live.

Give to us:

Understanding that puts an end to strife;

Mercy that quenches hatred, and

Forgiveness that overcomes vengeance.

Empower all people to live in your law of love.

Amen.

In filling out a questionnaire for jury duty candidates, a man in Cape Cod named Daniel Ellis noted that he hated homosexuals and African-Americans, and also was a liar.  I admit I laughed out loud when I read this, but the judge didn’t find it to be so amusing.  “In 32 years of service in courtrooms, as a prosecutor, as a defense attorney and now as a judge, I have quite frankly never confronted such a brazen situation of an individual attempting to avoid juror service,” said Barnstable Superior Court Judge Gary Nickerson.  State prosecutors were asked to consider filing charges against Ellis. 

I never have been summoned for jury duty, but I don’t understand what is so terrible about it that it would lead someone to make such outrageous admissions on a questionnaire.  A person I know, a career military officer, claims he listed “Trained Killer” as his occupation on a similar form in another state. 

The whole affair brings to mind an episode of the television show Curb Your Enthusiasm.   Early in the program, Larry David observes someone fulfilling his sentence for a shoplifting conviction:  he is standing in front of the store wearing a sandwich board sign proclaiming, “I am a shoplifter.”    

Typically, Larry gets himself all flummoxed up throughout the unfolding story, and after taking some leftover food from a restaurant to his waiting limo driver, he returns to get the man a fork with which to eat.  The restaurant owner intercepts Larry on his way back outside, accuses him of an illegal act, and the police are called.  The final scene shows Larry in front of the restaurant, wearing a sign of his own: “I steal forks from restaurants.”  Naturally, several of his acquaintances happen to attend a banquet at the restaurant that same evening. 

So often, people and their character traits are not so transparent as the cases described here.  Perhaps it would make human interactions easier if they were.    But, a lot of us are pretty adept at disguising various aspects of who we are.  Sometimes we project onto others qualities, positive or negative, as we observe their behaviors and hear their words.   Probably, our accuracy rate could stand improvement. 

To me, it’s always instructive to hear what folks think about the church and those of us who are a part of it.  And I am forced to wonder, “How do they reach their conclusions?”

An article by Shankar Vedantam describes an interesting psychological trait known as cognitive dissonance quantified in a study by social psychologist Roy Baumeister:  “the same people dealing with the same kinds of hurt perceive hurtful actions in entirely different ways, depending on whether they are the ones causing the hurt or the ones being hurt.” 

People in the research group felt when they did something that upset or offended others, the effects were less hurtful or lasting than when they themselves were the offended party. Vedantam states this is the main source of conflict “in our personal, professional and political lives.”  Yes, we know we do things in our lives that are wrong, but we’re “good people,” so it’s not as bad as when others hurt us.  We’re not always so sure they are good people.  Their intentions may be more sinister than ours ever were.  Of course, this “reasoning” happens largely on a subconscious level. 

I guess this helps explain why people of faith sometimes are quicker to identify the shortcomings of others than to see their own.  Jesus pointed out how people jumped on the speck in another person’s eye when they had a log in their own. 

It seems there are implications in our cognitive dissonance for confession and forgiveness.  Following Jesus is not an easy thing to do. 

Apparently, it goes against our nature.

On our morning walks, Mary and I pass a house guarded by a beagle named Harley.  I think Harley was trained on the “invisible fence” technology, because he never steps beyond a certain point on the edge of the yard.  He also barks at us every time, acting as if he’s certain we have mischief on our minds.  When I see him, I am reminded of a beagle I knew long ago in college.  His name was Frank, and he ran with a black Lab named Baron. 

They were regular visitors to my dorm room. Baron and Frank belonged to the same family, and always traveled as a unit.  When they showed up at the dorm, Baron jumped onto my bed and Frank sat where he could get a good view, and stared at me.  He stared for long stretches at a time.  Sometimes he whimpered as he stared.  Frank was a real trip. 

When I was a senior, I had the use of a car.  After learning where Baron and Frank lived, I sometimes took them home following a long afternoon of being stared at by Frank.  These two dogs hopped into my car and always took the same positions.  Baron laid down over the hump on the floor in the back, and Frank sat up front in the passenger seat, paws on the arm rest, looking out the window.  They did it every time.  When we arrived at their house, I merely opened the car doors, and out they bounced, happily checking back in with their owner, Mrs. Simpson. 

One time, Mrs. Simpson invited my roommate Jeff and me to her home for dinner.  She was a gracious lady, and her adult son lived with her.  I remember we sat in the back yard and enjoyed a cookout.  She served beer to Jeff and me, but we really didn’t want to drink it.  I’ll never forget how every time Mrs. Simpson looked away, Jeff flung a splash of his beer into her flowerbed.  I just sipped mine – very slowly. 

Mrs. Simpson spoke with a slow drawl, and she spoke a lot.  We were thoroughly entertained as she described how one day she saw the dogcatcher’s truck parked in front of her house.  Frank was detained yet again.   Mrs. Simpson described the scene. “Ah went ow-et, and looooked in back of that tru-uck, and Ah said, ‘Fraaannk.  What’re you doin’ in they-ah?’” 

Hearing it all being recounted as we humans ate hamburgers and some of us avoided drinking beer, Frank just stared, perhaps embarrassed that his misdeeds were disclosed in front of company. 

As the story goes, there was a boxer named James (Quick) Tillis whose training headquarters was in Chicago some 25 years ago.  Tillis originally was from Oklahoma. His first day in Chicago was a memorable one. "I got off the bus with two cardboard suitcases under my arms in downtown Chicago and stopped in front of the Sears Tower. I put my suitcases down, and I looked up at the Tower and I said to myself, 'I'm going to conquer Chicago.' When I looked down, the suitcases were gone."

The gospel lesson for this Sunday features Jesus telling the seventy followers he commissioned to go out ahead of him, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves.” (Luke 10: 2, 3  NRSV)

Jesus didn’t mislead the people.  It wasn’t going to be easy telling others about the new life Jesus promised.  Some would be receptive and welcoming, others would be less than friendly.  But, in order to reach the receptive hearts, the people influenced and changed by Jesus had to get out there.  When they returned, the seventy evangelists were filled with joy, amazed at what God accomplished through their efforts.

We don’t know who those seventy people were.  We aren’t told they possessed extraordinary talents or spiritual gifts.  Luke doesn’t say that Jesus trained them using the latest marketing techniques or gimmicks.  What we do know is they were called by Jesus to be his followers, and sent out on a mission, backed up by the power of God’s spirit.  They had a straightforward task:  share the love of Christ and declare that God’s reign was near.

They couldn’t say, “Where are we going to get the money to do that?” because Jesus told them not to take anything with them.  They weren’t able to protest, “We’ve never done that before,” because Jesus suspended their religious rituals and prohibitions.  Jesus dismissed their resistance to those who were different from them.  He instructed them simply to move on from folks who didn’t embrace them.

It seems he thought of everything.  There were no more excuses.  They went.

These statements appear in an online article at the DisciplesWorld site:  “Almost 60 percent of Americans say religion is ‘very important’ or ‘extremely important’ in their daily life, according to a 2006 CBS News Poll. Yet polls also show that only half of Americans can name one of the four Gospels. Most Americans can't name the first book of the Bible, either.   Evangelical Christians don't do much better than the general population. Only 44 percent of ‘born again’ respondents in one Gallup poll correctly identified ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven’ as a verse from Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. By contrast, 37 percent of other respondents got it right."

I once overheard some Star Trek aficionados talking about how people dissect movies of the series, virtually frame by frame, to make sure there are no errors in references to the invented mythologies of related events or characters from Star Trek “history.”  Others spend time learning the faux “Klingon” language, or translating documents.

I’m not picking on Star Trek experts, but only drawing a comparison.

Sometimes it seems the focus of biblical knowledge is on trivia, or on trying to prove a point that may or may not need proving.  I once endured a lecture on how there really were five people on crosses at Jesus’ crucifixion rather than the generally assumed three.  The intense lecturer was basing his hypothesis on the descriptions in the various biblical accounts of those being crucified with Jesus.  He was, of course, relying on a particular English translation of the texts, rather than studying them in their original language.

It’s a loss that more people of faith are not conversant with the scriptures, and that they fail to take advantage of opportunities to become so.  It would make a tremendous difference in the life and ministry of the church if people paid more attention to their spiritual growth and development.

I really don’t understand how they can be satisfied with what the church has become as a result.   People on the outside aren’t impressed, I know that.  

Last year on the Fourth of July, we were in Denver and decided to drive up to Cheyenne, Wyoming for the day.  There is an historic railroad station on the town square, a huge Western apparel store, and lots of little shops.  We took the trolley bus tour of Cheyenne, which is the state capital, and saw local landmarks and homes of prominent citizens from the town history.  A claim to fame of Wyoming is being the first territory to allow women to vote, a necessary maneuver in the evolution toward statehood.  We even passed by a Disciples church there.

On the way back to Denver we stopped off at the Terry Bison Ranch, which spanned almost 30,000 acres, including across state lines into Colorado.  While it is a working ranch, they also have campsites, a store, and restaurant.  We watched a few of the ranch hands as they worked on breaking a horse, then we took the ranch tour, seeing camels, horses, ostriches, and a variety of other animals along the way.  The highlight of the tour was ending up alongside a herd of bison (with a few Longhorns and yaks thrown in for good measure).  Our visit was rounded off with a meal of bison ribs and other barbecued delights.

We have a vast and diverse country, and it’s a pleasure to explore different parts of it, meet the people, and see how they live.  I never in my life thought I would see a place like Wyoming, but now I have.  It was a nice way to celebrate the birthday of the United States.

When we got back to Denver that evening, there was a furious thunderstorm, so we watched fireworks on television – from the Mall in Washington, DC.

Golf legend Arnold Palmer once told of a lesson learned:  “It was the final hole of the 1961 Masters tournament, and I had a one-stroke lead and had just hit a very satisfying tee shot. I felt I was in pretty good shape. As I approached my ball, I saw an old friend standing at the edge of the gallery. He motioned me over, stuck out his hand and said, ‘Congratulations.’ I took his hand and shook it, but as soon as I did, I knew I had lost my focus. On my next two shots, I hit the ball into a sand trap, then put it over the edge of the green. I missed a putt and lost the Masters. You don't forget a mistake like that.”

According to Arnold Palmer, he felt he pretty much had it made, as far as that golf tournament was concerned.  He was going to win.  But rather than focus on what needed to be done, he let his concentration slip, and his victory got away from him.

Churches typically are established with the mission of providing a Christian witness in a new way or new location.  Energy and excitement run high.  People share a vision and common purpose.  Nothing seems impossible, despite the challenges ahead.  God has called the congregation to an important ministry, and God’s spirit will see them through.

Time has a way of tempting us away from our focus on a vision.  As churches become settled, programs are designed, organizational structures are formed to administer the programs, power and authority for decision-making become important, and before long, the steep slide toward irrelevance begins.  Focus is diffused, and the vision that inspired the founding of the church dissipates.

Vision is vital to the health of a congregation.  It’s a vision nurtured through worship, prayer, study, service, giving, and other spiritual disciplines.  It’s a vision given by God. 

Looking away is a costly mistake.