Devotional 5-31-13

BE SAD…BUT NOT FOREVER

Memorial Day’s parades, speeches and celebrations have ended. The meaningful tributes to our fallen veterans remind us once more of the cost of war and the sadness of lives lost.  While the purpose of Memorial Day is to pay tribute, we can’t help but be sad at the same time.

Since the day I was born, our country has been involved in five wars.  America has taken upon itself the responsibility of upholding the freedom of the world. I can’t begin to theorize about God’s probable/possible/non-existent involvement or influence in war.  But whether based on religion, politics--whatever, the fact remains: war is war. 

I do know, however, that those who have seen combat and those who continue to fight in these wars have experienced something none of the rest of us can begin to imagine.  The physical, emotional and mental impact of war changes these men and women, and many, many lives are lost.  I know that God is waiting to become involved through our prayers for these soldiers, now in combat, or living with the memories of their war experience years ago.

When I was 20, my 24-year-old brother followed his dream to become a Navy pilot. When his tour of duty was about to end, he extended his tour one more year and volunteered for duty in Vietnam.  I don’t know if it was his passionate love of flying or his belief that the United States needed to be in this conflict--perhaps both--but he was compelled to follow through with his decision. It required additional training in Nevada before he left. On October 29, 1966, his plane crashed during a training mission because of mechanical failure, and suddenly he was gone.

We were devastated.  It took me some time to learn that anger does not heal.  I still remember the words of my mother’s close friend: “Be sad, but not forever.”   Though difficult, over time thoughts of my brother were no longer in the context of tragedy, but of the wonderful experiences we shared growing up.  My family suffered greatly from our loss--especially my parents.  But the support of so many through their kindness, their love and especially their prayers, made it possible to grieve and in time move on.

Though Memorial Day is officially over, it is so important that we remember our soldiers  past and present, as well as their families, with a simple mention in our prayers. As long as there is war, there will be sorrow and sadness, but our sadness will not be forever with God’s help.  All we need do is ask.

Prayer:
Heavenly Father, please protect our combat soldiers, comfort our war veterans, heal our wounded soldiers, and be with each of their families. This we ask in Jesus’ name.
Amen

Diane Feaganes

Devotional 5-24-13

One Triune God[1]
 
We believe in One God
Mother of Creation
Seen, un-seen, of earth and heaven
Ev’rything that is.
We believe in one God,
Father, Son and Spirit.
One Church, one baptism, Everlasting life!
 
We believe in One God
Our Lord Christ Jesus
God from God, Begotten Son,
Slain and ris’n again.
We believe in one God,
Father, Son and Spirit.
One Church, one baptism, Everlasting life!
 
We believe in One God
Life-giving Spirit
Holy Power, Comforter
Worship, glorify!
We believe in one God,
Father, Son and Spirit.
One Church, one baptism, Everlasting life!
 

Jeff Taylor

---

[1] Words copyright © 2012 Jeffrey A. Taylor

Devotional Extra 5-20-13

Martha Wright and her husband Paul Boos were good friends in Wheeling. Paul's death in his early 40s was an unexpected shock after a brief illness, leaving Martha with their two young children, Alice and Thomas, now in their young adulthood. She had prepared this devotional to be printed elsewhere, and I asked her permission to include it in Johnson Memorial's devotional series. Thanks, Martha.
Jack Lipphardt, Senior Pastor
JMUMC

Today is Whit Monday, a day marked by a wide variety of pretty raucous traditions in some cultures—when I looked it up, there was everything from parades to throwing competitions to cheese rolling to mark the day. We won’t be engaging in anything quite like that. For us, this is just the day after Pentecost, the beginning of what the liturgical calendar calls, with a stunning lack of imagination, “the time after Pentecost,” or “ordinary time.” As a child, I equated Ordinary time with summer, when indeed being in church seemed very ordinary—as in especially boring. What it really means is not “seasonal time,” which would be the festival times such as Lent to Easter and Advent to Christmas. It is marked by ordinal numbers as in, second Sunday after Pentecost.

What are we to make of the “day after” Pentecost. It presents no tidy image. Years ago, it was popular in some congregations to identify us as “Easter” people. It was printed on bulletins and put on the sign out front. I was never comfortable with the term. Easter people. It meant, I think, that we were really, really excited about redemption and grace. And just plain frozen in joy and awe before that empty tomb. Wow! I suppose we could have been “Christmas” people--people who are just really, really excited about God coming to be with us as a human, just like he promised. We could live in a nativity snow globe of adoration, with that baby in the manger and his sweet mother, beneath that amazing star.

But in fact, we do not live in perpetual adoration, or joy, or awe. Life just doesn't work that way.

In the first Chapter of the book of Acts, Jesus tells the apostles, right before the Ascension, that they were to go wait for Pentecost. They wanted to know what it meant. They ask: Are you going to restore the kingdom of Israel? Is it time?

He answers: You don’t get to know the time. Timing is the Father’s business. What you’ll get is the Holy Spirit. And when the Holy Spirit comes on you, you will be able to be my witnesses…even to the ends of the world. Then away he goes. And the apostles don’t know quite what to do. And the angels ask them, ‘what are you doing standing around looking at an empty sky?” So they go to the upper room and they have a committee meeting and they figure they better put in a replacement for Judas and Matthias gets the job. Frankly, to me, this never sounded like really important work, but, reportedly, it was what they did while waiting for whatever this Pentecost experience was going to be. And then Pentecost happens, which is truly, truly awesome—and then life goes on. It is the “Monday after Pentecost,” in a way that doesn't mark any “ordinary time” for the apostles, because they have to build a church in their society, which is hostile and persecutes them and even kills them. They are “the time after Pentecost” people, because now after the Nativity, and the Crucifixion, and the Resurrection, and the Ascension, all of time is the “time after Pentecost.” We are all, in fact, “the time after Pentecost” people--which is pretty clunky as a slogan, lacks a clear visual and marks no particular spot to stand on. Instead, we have a job—to be witnesses. And because we are human, we do in fact, not always get it right, because we are distracted by “the world’s guesses and opinions” and we do respond to our own “mental or emotional footwork.” But the Holy Spirit accompanies us and when we work to get our “feet on firm spiritual ground,” then we can, with the Spirit, “pass it on,” sharing the everyday mystery of God’s relentless, amazing love. That’s our job. Get moving. It’s Monday.

Martha Wright

Devotional 5-17-13

GLADDEN YOUR HEART; BREATHE HIS AIR

(Lectionary Readings:  Acts 2:1-21; Psalm 104:24-34, 35b; Romans 8:14-17; John 14:8-27)

Is anything more disturbing than having to release preconceived notions, beliefs, traditions?  What could be worse than having to admit to ourselves the possibility, however slight it may be, that our attitudes are just not what Jesus had in mind when He asked us to "go therefore and make disciples of all nations?”

Nothing upsets me more than having to move outside my comfort zone when I’m trying to be my most Christ-like!  I’d love to share His love with everyone, except maybe those really weird folks who bought the house around the corner.  And what about them; those folks just look a little shifty, always walking their dogs in our neighborhood, smiling and waving like they’re my friends.  The nerve of some people!  Surely God had others more like me in mind when He asked me to share the Good News of His Kingdom.  I prefer to have my Christianity tucked neatly in my purse, ready to be offered at the appropriate time to the appropriate people.

If any of this sounds familiar, do I have an incredibly fantastic update for you!  We don’t need to pre-screen people before we share the love of Christ with them!  Everyone is eligible!  Everyone is included!  There are no pre-existing conditions; no prerequisites; no references required!  How amazing is that?  Can this possibly be true?  We no longer belong to a world divided?  How could this have happened?  Why did no one tell us sooner?

Just imagine how unnerving this news must have been to those hearing it for the first time?  How unnerving is this news for us to hear today?  Scripture says we live in the midst of “US”---  no longer may we view folks as "THEM."  "Them" is no longer valid.  “Us" is who we are.  All thanks to the gift of the Holy Spirit, given freely to everyone by the grace of God through the love of Jesus Christ.

The Psalmist tells us to gladden our hearts because, “when you send forth your spirit, they are created; and you renew the face of the ground.” The Apostle Peter tells us to breathe His air when he quotes the prophet Joel in Acts,  "…I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh…Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

What could be better news than this?  Just gladden and breathe!  We don't need to share our message through pushing folks to be like us, screaming at them, or using catch-phrase slogans.  Christ's message can only be heard through actions of love in small ways – every day – for everyone.

Parker Palmer shared a poem by Linder Unders, which expresses one of the best ways to celebrate Pentecost and share God's love:

ARE YOU SAVED?
All this talk of saving souls,
Souls weren't meant to save,
Like Sunday clothes that
give out at the seams.

They're made for wear;
they come with a lifetime guarantee.
Don't save your soul.
 Pour it out like rain
 on cracked, parched earth.
                      
Give your soul away,
or pass it like a candle flame.
Sing it out,
or laugh it up the wind.
                      
Souls were meant for hearing
breaking hearts, for puzzling dreams,
remembering August flowers,
forgetting hurts.
                      
These folk who talk of saving souls!
They have the look of bullies
who blow out candles before you
sing happy birthday,
and want the world to be in alphabetical order.
 
I will spend my soul,
playing it out like sticky string
into the world
so I can catch every last thing I touch.

Next time someone asks, "Is your soul saved?"
Say, "No, it's spent, spent, spent!"    

Gracious and Loving Father,
Thank you for the gift of the Holy Spirit.  Keep us mindful of our vision, that we may truly be a covenant community, transformed by Your grace, to share the love of Christ with the world.   Amen.

Linda Summers

Devotional 5-10-13

This week, our congregation said "pick up your heavenly tennis racket" to a beloved member who died after a lengthy wrestling match with back and leg pain. She was the mother of two daughters, one a church member and the other a retired pastor colleague and long-time good friend. "Rest in peace" would not be an appropriate farewell: "swing that racket, swing that golf club" would be more the good wishes for one who had been so very active and in recent years was nearly homebound from the pain. At the funeral home during a lull in the visiting, one of her daughters and I were standing at the casket talking to and about her mother. Her daughter said after a few moments: "Mom's in heaven looking down here and asking 'what are you doing?' -- you're talking to my body and I'm not there." After Jesus’ crucifixion and burial, some women and disciples went to the tomb expecting to attend to Jesus’ lifeless body and to do those things that custom and ritual required. But they were met by figures who proclaimed, “He is not here”. While they were perplexed at first, they soon discovered the joy of resurrection and the promise of life eternal.

The Easter season in the church is leading quickly toward Pentecost, the birthday of the Church. The birth of the church was born of the promises of God of eternal life and blessed peace. Death has its mystery for us. But death no longer has any ultimate claim on us. "O grave, where is your victory? Death, where is your sting?" "Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." Christ The Lord is Risen -- and we sing our faithful "Alleluia!"

Holy Lord, loving God, creator of the universe:
You call us to be holy, which is to say "other" than the ways of the world.
Thank you for the gift of your son Jesus Christ.
And thank you for your promises of eternal love, everlasting peace, endless joy.
We pray in his sacred name. Amen.

Rev. Jack Lipphardt

Devotional 5-3-13

Adam Hamilton, a United Methodist minister at the Church of the Resurrection in Kansas City tells a story about Robert Louis Stevenson, a 19^th century author. As a young boy, Stevenson was sitting in his room, watching the lamplighter go from gas street lamp to gas street lamp, lighting each one with a torch. He placed his ladder, climbed up, lighted the lamp and then moved on the next. The young boy was fascinated by this. His father opens his bedroom door, and Robert doesn’t even notice that someone has come into his room. He just keeps watching as more and more lamps are lighted on the street. Finally his father asks him, “Son, what are you looking at? What is so fascinating outside that you don’t even notice that I’ve come into the room?” Robert answers, “Daddy, I’m watching that man out there knock holes in the darkness.”

It is our task. Christ is the light, and now we are the light of the world, pushing back the darkness. Knocking holes in the darkness of the world.

Consider this. In West Virginia, one in three children lives in poverty. Almost 10% of babies are born with low birth weight. In our schools, 55% of students are approved for a free or reduced lunch. Over half of all fourth graders in West Virginia cannot read at what is considered a proficient level. Children who lived in poverty are more likely to have children outside of marriage, to be arrested, and to have severe health problems. What can we do about this kind of darkness?

The Lydia Circle heard these statistics. The teachers in the group told the women in the Circle that some of the students approved for free lunches in our schools go home every weekend and don’t eat again until Monday, because school food is their only food. These women stopped focusing what they could not do. They started a back-pack ministry.

Each week these women pack a weekend’s worth of food in large plastic Ziploc bags. They deliver the bags to a neighborhood school where the bags are placed in the backpacks of 10 specific students. Each weekend – every weekend -- these 10 students have something to eat. They are no longer hungry. The Lydia Circle has plans to expand the ministry so that no child in that school spends the weekend without food. They are punching holes in the darkness.

We must ask ourselves, how are we called to punch holes in the darkness?
Adam Hamilton, a United Methodist minister at the Church of the Resurrection in Kansas City tells a story about Robert Louis Stevenson, a 19th century author. As a young boy, Stevenson was sitting in his room, watching the lamplighter go from gas street lamp to gas street lamp, lighting each one with a torch. He placed his ladder, climbed up, lighted the lamp and then moved on the next. The young boy was fascinated by this. His father opens his bedroom door, and Robert doesn’t even notice that someone has come into his room. He just keeps watching as more and more lamps are lighted on the street. Finally his father asks him, “Son, what are you looking at? What is so fascinating outside that you don’t even notice that I’ve come into the room?” Robert answers, “Daddy, I’m watching that man out there knock holes in the darkness.”

It is our task. Christ is the light, and now we are the light of the world, pushing back the darkness. Knocking holes in the darkness of the world.

Consider this. In West Virginia, one in three children lives in poverty. Almost 10% of babies are born with low birth weight. In our schools, 55% of students are approved for a free or reduced lunch. Over half of all fourth graders in West Virginia cannot read at what is considered a proficient level. Children who lived in poverty are more likely to have children outside of marriage, to be arrested, and to have severe health problems. What can we do about this kind of darkness?

The Lydia Circle heard these statistics. The teachers in the group told the women in the Circle that some of the students approved for free lunches in our schools go home every weekend and don’t eat again until Monday, because school food is their only food. These women stopped focusing what they could not do. They started a back-pack ministry.

Each week these women pack a weekend’s worth of food in large plastic Ziploc bags. They deliver the bags to a neighborhood school where the bags are placed in the backpacks of 10 specific students. Each weekend – every weekend -- these 10 students have something to eat. They are no longer hungry. The Lydia Circle has plans to expand the ministry so that no child in that school spends the weekend without food. They are punching holes in the darkness.

I am inspired by the Lydia Circle, and I am grateful for what they are chosen to do. As we follow their lead, we must ask ourselves, how are we called to punch holes in the darkness?

Kim Matthews