Sunday, May 19, 2013

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 awesomeand 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

Friday, May 17, 2013

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

Friday, May 10, 2013

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

Saturday, May 4, 2013

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 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.

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

Friday, April 26, 2013

Devotional 4-26-13

I want to share some words from one of my most valued teachers (in print only). Howard Thurman was an African American professor, theologian, and pastor one generation before Martin Luther King Jr. In fact he and Dr. King’s father were good friends. There is some speculation as to the extent of his influence upon the younger King that will probably never be quantified, but the following reflection from Thurman certainly foreshadows Dr. King’s way of thinking about the significance and power of love. Enjoy…

“There is a profound ground of unity that is more pertinent and authentic than all the unilateral dimensions of our lives. This a man discovers when he is able to keep open the door of his heart. This is one’s ultimate responsibility, and it is not dependent upon whether the heart of another is kept open for him. Here is a mystery: If sweeping through the door of my heart there moves continually a genuine love for you, it bypasses all your hate and all your indifference and gets through to you at your center. You are powerless to do anything about it. “

“It is impossible to keep another from loving you. True you may scorn that love, you may reject it in all ways within your power, you may try to close every opening in your own heart – it will not matter. This is no easy sentimentality but it is the very essence of the vitality of all being. The word that love is stronger than hate and goes beyond death is the great disclosure to one who has found that when he keeps open the door of his heart, it matters not how many doors are closed against him.”

*********************

And so the Lord says to his disciples, “Love one another as I have loved you”. Jesus have mercy upon us, and incline our hearts to keep this law. Lord it is again and again a present temptation, to close the door of our hearts upon one person or another. Again and again we are tempted to bar the door, to turn the lock. Jesus can we even find the courage to ask you to break the bar, to strip us of our locks, to oil the hinges? Have mercy upon us Lord, that we might love as you would have us to love; for anything less is not truly love at all. Lord have mercy upon us, and incline our hearts to keep this law.
Rev. Joseph Hill

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Devotional 4-19-13


A Little Rough on the Climb Out

I seem to be flying a lot lately.  I can’t say that I like to fly, but I can say that I DO like getting where I am going with two hours of travel time invested in air vs. 10 hours of driving. I certainly do not enjoy the security lines, the delayed flights and the checking of my carryon bag because the overhead bins are full. I also do not enjoy the anticipation of what the flight might be like. Motion sickness and I aren’t strangers. I have yet to “share” anything with a seat mate but – geesh – the anticipation. Traveling in the winter and as the days change from 75 degrees one day to 35 the next creates potential turbulents that are horrendous. I know I’m in for a ride when the pilot comes on the speaker, greets the passengers, thanks us for flying with them and then ends with, “It’s going to be rough on the climb out.” The airport and the runway may be experiencing fine weather and the weather at 30,000 feet also may be fair – it’s that area in between that has me rethinking my last meal choice. It’s that area where the climb out happens.

We are Easter people. It is the very corner stone of our faith. Easter is the most wonderful season. Everyone dresses up, the flowers are beautiful and smell so good, and the pews are full. That’s the tarmac and the weather is fine. Now Easter is ‘over’ -- not Easter the story of the resurrection and the core of our belief but Easter the day. The baskets are half full of candy, the flowers have been set aside and have begun to wither.  Now it’s time to get on with the work of Christianity – the climb out. And it’s going to be a little rough.

The disciples had a rough climb out. Once they finally got hold of the idea that Jesus really was, well, Jesus and that what he said was true, they went on an evangelism spree. It was not easy and everyone they encountered was not happy to see them. Even at 35,000 feet, the air may be calm but at that distance from the ground if you have a problem, the fall is most certainly going to be an issue.  Risk no matter. I haven’t done the research and have never heard anyone apply a percentage figure to it, but suffice it to say a fair number of Paul’s letters were written from prison or while under duress. Although not one of the charter members, Paul had seen and believed and was on a mission to proclaim his Messiah as king.  We too are there. We leave when everything is in our favor (church on Sunday is super), we ‘climb out’ through the turbulence (reaching out to someone in need), and then we hit the calmness of cruising altitude (the person seems to respond to our witness) but we always have our eye on the risk. What if we don’t get through or that person hurts us? (remember the 35,000 foot drop).  But we know in the end there is a smooth landing at our Father’s house.
 
The 23rd Psalm is part of today’s lectionary reading:
 
The LORD is my shepherd I shall not want   
He makes me go to the terminal where the weather is great
He assure s me that all will be ok
Even though it’s a little rough on the climb out
I am not afraid
Your love and your grace, they cover me
You make me get on the plane
I am apprehensive – but
You say “I am with you > always’ 
Absolutely blue skies and calm winds will find me
I will land at your house – every time - forever

Friday, April 12, 2013

Devotional 4-11-13


"He who has My commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves Me; and he who loves Me will be loved by My Father, and I will love him and manifest Myself to him." John 14:21

Several years ago I found the following poem in a Church Women United newsletter. I cut it out and it has haunted me since. I have posted it, typed it in Works on my computer and have found it in a file I keep with quotations. I guess I do not want to lose it! All Christians desire to be Christlike, but how do we achieve it? What a challenge! As I reflect on this poem, I hope as I live day by day, others "can see God's love expressed" and that God will lead me to do his work.

I am thankful that in this church and in others of which I have been apart, I have seen seen "God's love expressed" many times over.

I BEHOLD THE CHRIST IN YOU
I behold the Christ in you.
Here the life of God I see.
I can see this as you walk.
I can see this in all you do.
I can see this as you talk.

I behold God’s love expressed.
I can see you ever blessed.
See Christ in you hour by hour.

I behold the Christ in you.
I can see that perfect one
Led by God in all you do.
I can see God’s work is done.
L. Z. Cole

Dear Christ, help us to embody you in our lives and in the world. Help us to listen and find what you are calling us to be and do.

Martha Casey