Thursday, December 13, 2018

Trying Too Hard

December 13, 2018

I try too hard to get along with everyone, to be well-liked, to get past conflict. Sometimes when I try too hard to get along the center of me becomes too fluid, weak, and loses its influence. This is a personality flaw that I carry with me; have carried with me for a very long time. Most of the time it doesn't cause too much grief, but sometimes it does cause a problem.

 One of the main reasons I chose ministry as a profession was that in Christ, and in the encouragement of the Church, I found self-worth. I came to believe that I was indeed a child of God, equal to any other on the planet in God's eyes. What I found I wanted others to find as well. God loves us all. I believe that. God values us all. I believe that, too. In Christ, there is not one thing that can separate us from the love of God. I deeply believe that.

Those beliefs give me a core from which I can begin to feel better about me, and yet, I sometimes try too hard to get along, to be liked, to please. I wish I had moved past it by my age, and I am better than I once was, but I still have a ways to go.

I can assure you, dear reader, of this. I will encourage, aid, come alongside, and pray for you. Because God has been gracious to me I enjoy every opportunity to make a difference in the way you see yourself and believe in yourself -- because, believe me, God sees you as valuable, and God believes in you enough to invest a life in you.

Thanks for listening.

Peace be with you,
Jerry

Wednesday, December 5, 2018

A Bunch of Little Things

December 5, 2018

It’s a bunch of little things that make a difference. Oh, sometimes the big things matter too, but day to day it’s a bunch of little things.

Sailing is something I enjoy. There is a quietness to the boat running through the water with the aid of the wind. Sailing a boat well takes a combination of people and skills and choreography. Sailing well is a combination of a lot of little things happening together.



Life is like that too. It's a dance of a lot of people doing a lot of little things, almost every one having some effect, known or unknown; negative or positive, on others. Day to day living together on the same planet requires a lot of little things going well.

Kindness is a little thing. It’s always worth the effort required. Even when kindness is not reciprocated, it is still the right way to be, the appropriate thing to do. Kindness means treating people as if they were beloved children of God even when they act like hellions. Our instincts tell us that when we are hit we should hit back; that when we are insulted we should insult back; an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Jesus reminded us that we should endeavor to do for others what we would have them do for us — and when they are mean to us he encourages us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. Not easy. Sometimes it requires a massive effort, but it’s worth it.



Showing up where and when you are needed is a little thing. Employers like employees who show up for work when they are supposed to. We like to elect congresspersons who are on the job and ready to vote on bills and proposals. Friends sometimes need a friend to be with them; deaths, surgeries, illnesses, events with their children. Showing up means something. You don’t have to come bearing gifts or with the right words to say in every situation. Showing up speaks volumes. It’s a little thing, but it matters.



Listening is a little thing that feels like a very big thing to someone who needs to have their voice heard. Listening to someone makes a huge difference, but it may be difficult to do. African-American citizens in this country need to believe that people in power and in uniform are listening to them, paying attention to what they say. Sometimes they need to say things that people in power do not want to hear, but listening matters. The friend in a difficult relationship may need someone to hear their side of the story. Not easy to hear what they may have to say, but important to listen. It matters. Older people who feel they have been pushed to the side, and younger people who feel like they have no say — need to be heard. Listening is a little thing but it feels like a very big thing to the one who needs to have their voice heard. One doesn’t always have to offer solutions. Sometimes listening is enough.



Kindness. Presence. Listening. These are just little things we can do in our lives but they can matter so much to those whom we know and work with, those whom we love. Kindness, presence and listening are gifts that when offered speak to the way we value others. If we can operate from a place where we deeply believe that every human is a beloved child of God, then we will value them as God does, and the little things, which can sometimes be difficult, become big gifts to those who receive them.

What little thing do you value? What little thing can you offer?

A bunch of little things can make the world a better place to live.

It's the Little Things


Peace and Love,
Jerry

Wednesday, November 28, 2018

The Kingdom of God Is Within You

November 28, 2018

Once Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, and he answered, ‘The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, “Look, here it is!” or “There it is!” For, in fact, the kingdom of God is within you.’ -- Luke 17:20,21 (NRSV)

All that you need, God has already provided. 

You are a visible expression of the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven.

The Light is within you.

These are phrases I often use when talking to people who need a bit of encouragement. Encouragement is a big part of what I do. It's a part of the fabric of who I am as a pastor and who I am as a human being. I try to see the best in people and I try to help them see the best in themselves.

This is not accident. It is gift -- from the Holy Spirit, and it is intention. 

I believe people should believe in themselves because I believe that God believes in us. So, I set about every day to help people remember this. God created us in love. God created us in the image of God. God desires, and we also desire for God's Reign to come on earth as it is in heaven. We pray it. We believe it. We work toward it.

I do not consider that this is anything special or unique or lovely in any way. I consider it simply responding to my call to ministry among God's people. There are so many ways I fail and fall short of that calling. Encouragement and seeing God in people are deeds that I can repeat and they are a calling to which I try to be faithful. 

May God be gracious and near to all who need to hear a word of encouragement today.

Peace and Love,
Jerry

Tuesday, November 20, 2018

Heraclitus of Ephesus and Change Theory


November 20, 2018

Heraclitus of Ephesus was a Greek philosopher. He lived from 535 BCE to 475 BCE. Likely you, dear reader, have never heard of him. He isn't a household name like Aristotle or Socrates, but Plato knew of him and his thoughts about the universe and quoted him often. Heraclitus was best known for his novel idea that the nature of the known universe is change. That is; everything in the universe is always changing. If something is a part of the known universe then it is in a constant state of change. 

Everything in the universe is changing constantly? Yes.

That has some fairly broad implications for our understanding of all that is. 
Are rocks changing? Yes. 
Is the universe changing? Yes.
Is time changing? Yes.

Constantly. Without ceasing. Everything in the known universe is in a state of change.

Heraclitus of Ephesus
Plato, borrowing from Heraclitus quotes him several times in his work, Cratylus. He quotes Heraclitus saying, 

"All entities are moving and nothing remains still."

"Everything flows and nothing stays.
Everything flows and nothing abides.
Everything gives way and nothing stays fixed.
Everything flows; nothing remains.
All is flux, nothing is stationary.
All is flux, nothing stays still.
All flows, nothing stays.”

“You could not step twice into the same river.”

Kentucky River dam at Valley View

It was that last phrase that came to my mind this morning as I was meditating in the office at the church. So much has changed. So much is still going to change. You cannot step into the same water twice.

Yesterday was yet another memorial service for yet another beloved saint of the church. It was a difficult service for me because the person who passed away has figured in so much of what the church has been doing during the years I have been here. She made a point to consult me, include me, value me. She passed away very suddenly and unexpectedly. It has been a shock to the system of the church, and to my system – and even more so to her family. Today I have finally found some time to explore my own shock, grief, loss and to ponder the bigger thoughts about time and life and change and death and, par for the course with me, what it all means to the universe in general.

I don’t consider that I have never been averse to change. As a child I loved new buildings, newer houses, new cars, etc. I didn’t have a whole lot of appreciation for older things. Now that I am an older thing even that has mindset has changed some. What I am learning to process over the span of my life is how change sometimes takes away things that we hold precious – never to be held or loved or touched in the same way again. The resulting losses leave holes that cannot be filled with new things. Sometimes change can bring negative consequences. Not all change is positive or progressive. Sometimes change is destructive and harmful, but one cannot stop the changes. RUSH sings this so eloquently in their defining song, “Tom Sawyer,” “He knows changes aren’t permanent, but change is.”



You simply cannot step into the same river twice.

One can be sad about that at times, while rejoicing in it at other times. One can receive negative consequences from that reality and one can reap benefits from that change too. Life isn’t comprised only of positive changes. Sometimes the changes hurt. But the changes are still going to come. No stopping that.

I think about the Qoheleth who wrote the 3rd chapter of Ecclesiastes.
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; 
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up; 
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance; 
a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; 
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away; 
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; 
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.

Thanks to ole Heraclitus of Ephesus we know that nothing is stationary, nothing stays still. Everything will change in its season. 

And I believe that God, who is outside the known universe and not subject to its physical laws, is in charge of the times and the seasons.

Peace and Love,
Jerry


Tuesday, November 6, 2018

Henri Nouwen: And a Difficult Quote


November 6, 2018 -- Election Day

I Voted
It's Election Day. The crescendo of ridiculous campaign advertising will recede tonight. I think it's silly when people say all the money spent on campaigns could be used to feed all the hungry in the world. While I suppose that's technically true, it seems to me that the people who give so generously to campaigns aren't the ones volunteering in underdeveloped places with marginalized populations and generously donating of their wealth to feed victims of famine -- and they aren't going to. If they didn't give to political campaigns I don't think their money would find its way to feeding the poor. That's my thoughts anyway and it's my blog so, ......

But the crescendo of political advertising will recede tonight to a murmur of what it has been in the last few days. The President can go back to spending his days and nights in Washington and his weekends in the Hamptons or at a club in Virginia or Florida. And we can get on to what really matters tonight, UK versus Duke. That's where our passions really lie because UK fans rejoice in loathing Dukies.

Loathing seems to be gaining in popularity these days. Maybe it's been there all along but it seems a bit more open and obvious. People seem to feel a little less shame about open enmity for others. I suspect just about all of us were taught not to hate, but well, that lesson doesn't seem to have taken too well. Before Christian Laettner hit that shot in the 1992 Regional Final, he stepped directly on the chest of Aminu Timberlake who was lying helpless on the court. Laettner should have been ejected and if he had that infamous shot would never have happened. But it did, and the hate rolls on. So much so that in 2015, ESPN did a 30 for 30 episode entitled, "I Hate Christian Laettner,"

Laettner's foot on Timberlake's chest
But you know, loathing seems more evident in other places. There are neo-Nazis in our country right now and the Southern Poverty Law Center tells us membership is on the rise. There are also white nationalist groups that are growing and becoming more bold in their visibility. The men of the KKK wore masks to cover their faces -- but not these white nationalist groups. Anti-Semitism? Rising. Mass shootings based on ethnicity, religion, national origin -- on the rise. Happens often now. Loathing of Central Americans, Mexicans, Puerto Ricans (who are US citizens), exploding on social media. Political loathing is definitely on the rise. Democrats are sick, perverted and are inviting gang members into our towns. Republicans are hateful, racist and bigots who want all brown people disenfranchised.

We seem to be getting way better and way more demonstrative in our loathing. Yay us!

In my sermon this past Sunday, when speaking about the Lectionary Gospel text for Pentecost 24, Mark 12:28-34 I offered a quote from Henri Nouwen. It's a difficult quote. 

Let me say a word about Nouwen. He's one of my spiritual heroes. Nouwen was a Catholic priest whose gentleness and compassion inspire me. After nearly two decades of teaching at academic institutions including the University of Notre Dame, Yale Divinity School and Harvard Divinity School, Nouwen went on to work with individuals with intellectual and developmental disabilities at the L'Arche Daybreak community in Ontario.

Henri Nouwen
Here's the quote I shared. "For Jesus, there are no countries to be conquered, no ideologies to be imposed, no people to be dominated. There are only children, women and men to be loved."

No loathing there. No prejudice against women, GLBTQ folks, people of color, the poor, the rich. No loathing at all -- only love. Loathing is easy. Loving is difficult. Jesus clearly prefers not to call his followers to what is easy, but instead to what is divine. Love is divine. Loving one's neighbor as one's self is divine. It's our imperative. It's the greatest and the first commandment says Jesus. So, that's what we are called to do.

And yet, loathing is everywhere we turn. So here's where I come down on this whole blog post, where the rubber meets the road so-to-speak. We are not called to change the world, we are called to change ourselves. If we change our hearts then the heart of the world will be changed. One by one, individual by individual, town by town, state by state, country by country, one great body of humanity living in a large neighborhood we call Earth. 

There are no boundaries to love. No borders. No colors. No teams. No parties. No boundaries to love. That's difficult. It's really difficult to love like that. Jesus has put us in a bind with this imperative to boundless love because, Go Cats. Beat Duke.

Peace and Love,
Jerry

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Civil Conversation and the Other

October 16, 2018

I have spent a great amount of time over the last seven years pondering the nature of conversation. The focus of my doctoral work honed in on preaching as conversation, but in order to hone in I had to acquaint myself with the works of those who are thinking and writing about the nature of human conversation. 

The theological philosopher David Tracy, in his book, Plurality and Ambiguity: Hermeneutics, Religion, Hope, wrote, "there is no intellectual, cultural or religious tradition of interpretation that does not ultimately live by the quality of its conversation." What Tracy intends to say here is that what binds together thoughts, culture and religious tradition is the way those are communicated through and between its adherents. We cannot come together without communication and the quality of that communication, in part, determines the success of an enterprise -- such as a faith tradition, a congregation, a nation.

Oftentimes, the inherent biases that lurk in the shadows of our being, because decent society tends to place value on keeping such biases in reserve, so taint our conversations that we can barely converse with one another. So tainted are we that we deny humanity to people with whom we disagree. Our words, which carry the whole of our intentions and meanings, become derogatory and dismissive, sometimes even hateful and evil. We refer to people by stereotypes, assign a characteristic to a group as if all members of a group shared traits in common that are worth debasing. We no longer see the world nor speak to one another as the Us of the human race, but instead as Us and Them, choosing sides to our detriment. Once sides are chosen we assign to the Other the worst qualities we can imagine and frame them in such a way that Other becomes expendable. It's worse than war; it's dehumanization.

The words we use. The way in which we choose to use them. The people to whom we choose not to speak. These qualities speak to who are and what we believe at our core. For me, this is a spiritual illness. The prescription for recovery lies in conversations across the chasm that connect us to one another as God sees us; children of the one human family.

Local columnist and pastor, Paul Prather, wrote in a recent column, "I hope you won’t take me to be an alarmist. I try not to be one. But I’m concerned we’re hurtling headlong toward a permanent breach in our country. Perhaps even a blood bath. I’m not a professional historian. But since I was around 9 years old, I’ve been an avid reader of American history. And the more I listen to the rhetoric of our moment, particularly the bent it’s taken since the 2016 presidential election, the more it reminds me of the 1850s, the years preceding the terrible Civil War, which killed 700,000 Americans and nearly destroyed the nation. Today we’re not divided between North and South. We’re divided between right and left, rural and urban, white and dark, rich and poor, men and women."

Divided. Taking sides. Chasm. Schism. Civil unrest. Shouting at instead of listening to one another. And it isn't just in America. Think of Brexit; Russia; the Phillipines, South America, the African continent, eastern Europe. The trend since World War II has been to divide by ethnicity and origin, by color and gender, by nationality. It's one tribe against another because coalitions and alliances are on the decline as well.

Again, David Tracy -- "there is no intellectual, cultural or religious tradition of interpretation that does not ultimately live by the quality of its conversation."

So, I say, talk to a stranger today. Talk to someone who isn't like you. Ask them about their life and listen. Let someone speak to you and ask you about your life. Talk to people who disagree with you. Don't shout at them or let your implicit bias pre-judge them. Give them the benefit of the doubt. Most all of us are husbands, wives, children, parents, siblings. We have things in common about which we can converse without devolving into heated political rhetoric.

Talk with people. Listen. Seek to understand, then to be understood. And most of all, see every human being through the eyes of faith, as God does, a beloved child of our Creator.

Peace and Love,
Jerry


Tuesday, October 9, 2018

Identifying One's Self

October 9, 2018

I have been listening to "On Being," again. This week I have listened to a podcast featuring Robin Wall Kimmerer. She is a Professor of Environmental and Forest Biology at the State University of New York. She is a native of upstate New York and taught for a while at Transylvania University and Centre College. She is the author of, Gathering Moss: A Natural and Cultural History of Mosses (2003), and Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants(2013).



Robin Wall Kimmerer


At least as fascinating to me is the way she introduces herself as a member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation; of the Bear Clan, adopted into the Eagle. She identifies as a Native American, an indigenous person of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation. How one identifies one's self has become an important question to me and my father, and Robin Wall Kimmerer's self-identification gives me pause and cause to think.

Who we are, and from where we came is a question that gets asked of us a lot over the course of a life. Especially, in these nationalistic times when ethnicity is under direct assault, the question of where does one belong, and who they belong to is important. Perhaps for reasons we might deem wrong, but, important nonetheless, those of Hispanic origin, Mexican, Honduran, Guatemalan are under intense scrutiny. Those from Arab nations, or who practice Islam; wear religious garb are considered suspicious by nature. Those from China are under consideration by the government to be denied student visas. In like fashion in the history of the United States, the Irish were once suspected of treachery, the Japanese were interred and the Native American population was subject to removal from their ancestral lands. African Americans were removed from their homes and enslaved on the shores of the New World.

Who we are and where are from, matters.How we identify ourselves, matters.

I can remember in Mrs. Crum's class in 4th grade when we were studying place and origin, and she asked us what our ancestry was. Some people said, Scottish. Others said, Irish. Many said they were Native American. Growing up in Oklahoma it was very common to identify as Native American. Oklahoma is the place to which many peoples were removed by Andrew Jackson and the Indian Removal Act of 1830. When it came my turn to talk about family origin, I didn't have an answer. I didn't know. 

Later, growing up around my Dad's side of the family, which was large, I came to understand we were Native American, at least in part, and that my ancestors had chosen, for reasons of wanting to fit in and not wanting to be labeled, to not identify themselves as Native American. My great grandfather was named Peter Choctaw Palmer. That has Native American written all over it. In my teen and adult years I identified as part Native American. It made sense, but it also became obvious to me that Native Americans are the only ones who have to prove their ethnicity in order to be recognized as such by the federal government. You have to be on the rolls. I didn't know whether my ancestors were or not, but my father was certain that at one time they had been. 

Dad was terminated from his job past the age of 50 as the company, owned by a French multi-national conglomerate, sought to reorganize. He decided to start his own company with his brother. When he did he decided the time had come to reclaim his identity as a Native American so that he could qualify for minority business ownership. He wrote to Oklahoma City to get his birth certificate, which he had never seen. He talked to family. 

That's when the earth shifted on its axis, and all we thought we knew came crashing down around us. I will make this part of the story short. The man whom my Dad thought was his father was not. His mother married when my Dad was two. No one in the family told him, and everyone but his siblings knew about it. They all died taking the secret to the grave with them.

Who was he? Every piece of information he thought he had to that point came under scrutiny. Turns out his mother was his mother, but all his siblings were half-siblings, and the stories of his identity and his place were lies. When the birth certificate arrived he saw the name of his biological father for the first time. He saw his birth name for the first time. But, the question remained, who was he, and for his children, who are we? Where did we come from? Who are our people? How do we identify?

Dad took the Ancestry DNA test. I did the 23andMe test. No Native American heritage showed up. Both of us showed 65% or above English and Irish. On my mother's side of the family a bit of genealogy has been done. We can trace our people back to Tennessee, and Mississippi. On my paternal grandmother's side, the Palmer side, we can wind our way back a bit to Arkansas, and perhaps to Tennessee and Kentucky. We are still working on that.

In Kentucky, particularly when I lived in Madison County, and now that I serve the church in Clark County, who you are and where you are from matters to people. Bloodlines for people are as important bloodlines for horses. People judge people on their character, yes, but it is often attached to family lineage. How does one find one's place in such a world when one's identity is clouded in falsehoods and the veil of death? And, of course, this is a curse for our family, yes, but so many people don't know who their family is -- and it's a curse for them as well.

Perhaps the DNA will lead us to our people and our place. We will see. I know this. It matters to me. Today I identify as mostly English/Irish and lots of unknown. It's the unknown that haunts my father, and troubles me.

Peace,
Jerry







Wednesday, October 3, 2018

Which Translation of the Bible?

October 3

It's October 3 and a Wednesday so,.....
On Wednesdays, we wear pink
Silly, yes.

Now on to the topic of the day. Which Bible translation do I use, should you use, is the best? I am asked these questions often, so today I am going to offer an answer.

Which Bible translation do I use? Several.

My go-to Bible for sermon preparation is the New Revised Standard Version. The NRSV is a sound translation from the Greek to English. It was translated by a panel of scholars who took the Revised Standard Version, which itself was based on good scholarship and updated it. The biggest updates from RSV to NRSV are in relation to gender specific language. For example, let's take a brief look at the word "adelphoi." Translated literally from Greek to English it would be rendered, "brothers." However, the intent of the word is not male specific in every instance. Sometimes it means men and sometimes it means everyone. Where it is gender specific the NRSV renders it as "brothers," but where it means both male and female the NRSV renders it, "brothers and sisters."





The NRSV is not the most literal translation then, but it does get to the heart of the meaning. And it is very readable by all ages in Britain and the United States. I prefer to use the Harper-Collins Study Bible and the New Oxford Annotated Bible. At times I will refer to the Jewish Annotated New Testament written by Dr. Amy-Jill Levine.














When I am studying and I want the most literal Greek to English translation I use the New American Standard Bible or NASB. Sentence structure in Greek differs from English, but the NASB renders its translations as literally as possible. That means it does not always read smoothly. However, if literal is what you want, then the NASB delivers.

I may also use Eugene Peterson's The Message translation when preparing sermons. It is not literal from the Greek to the English. It's intent is to get to the modern, colloquial meaning of a text. Thus, it reads very well and sometimes it speaks to us in America in a common or friendly voice that can open up the meaning of a text.



Sometimes I may refer to the New International Version or NIV. It is the preferred translation of the Evangelical churches in America. It is reliably accurate in translation and readable too. Like the RSV and the NRSV, the NIV is a very good Bible from which to work.



I do NOT use the King James Version, Paraphrased Bibles, or Zondervan Study Bibles, or Chicken Soup Bibles, or the Men's Bible, etc. Specialty Bibles, in my eyes are just another way for publishers to separate you from your money.

Which translation should you use? I suggest the NRSV, the RSV or the NIV.

They are fairly easy to read and their translations are based on solid scholarship. If you are going to engage in serious study I would highly recommend the Harper-Collins or the New Oxford Annotated versions.Or, if you want a really modern and common language Bible I would suggest The Message or Today's English Version TEV. The Good News Bible, published by the American Bible Society is a really good Bible. It isn't meant for study. It doesn't adhere literally to the Greek, but it is understandable by every kind of English reader.



What is the Best Translation? The answers vary.
Want extremely literal -- NASB
Want close to Greek and readable -- RSV, NIV, NRSV
Want easy to understand -- The Message, Good News Version

Whatever version you purchase, make sure to open it and read it. Daily.

Peace and Love,
Jerry

Tuesday, September 25, 2018

Finding Your Faith

September 25




Grace meets you where you are, but doesn't intend to leave you there.

When I was in high school I played and lettered on the high school golf team. I was the 5th man of the 5 man rotation. Sometimes I got to play 4, but mostly I was a 5. I enjoyed playing golf a lot. That's probably due in some way to my natural aptitude. While I wasn't really ever a good golfer, I was a better golfer than just about anything else I was doing in my young life. I had some success at it, and that success boosted my self-esteem, and so I continued to play.

What I didn't do was work at it very hard.

When I had developed a certain level of skill I kind of plateaued. I played well enough to make the team, and that was good enough. I was offered a scholarship to play golf in college and I jumped at it. In college I worked at my game a little more, because the competition was greater, and I developed more skills. Still, I wasn't the hardest worker. Succeeding at a high level requires a high level of work, and I just couldn't force myself to stand on the range and hit golf balls for two hours every single day. I reached a peak and stayed about there.

The development of faith, a spiritual life, and biblical study skills require the same commitment and work that becoming an outstanding golfer require. For most of us though, we develop our faith and our spiritual disciplines to a certain level, and then we plateau and just live there. We get comfortable enough with the Bible. We go to church regularly enough. We find our comfort level, and there we stay until the day the Lord calls us home.

Finding one's faith, when one has become plateaued requires a commitment and some movement. First, we have to come to a decision that we are not satisfied with things as they currently are. Grace meets us where we are, but it doesn't intend to leave us there. That moment of deciding to practice faith in a deeper way could come through the mentoring of another person, through reading something that finally sends the water over the dam, by a difficult health moment. The decision to move is a big one. What to do next?

Second, we look for trusted sources to help us pursue our spiritual quest. Again, this could be a mentor, or a pastor, or a book. We look for trusted sources because in a world where everything is possible, there are every possible ways of looking at scripture, faith, and becoming the person God is calling us to be. We need, as Dr. Paul Jones of Transylvania University calls it, an accurate "crap detector." One way to work toward that, in my estimation, is to assume always that God tends towards creativity and love. If you are being taught otherwise, time to stop and look for a different source.

Third, we need to put in the work; the practice. We need to get ourselves out to the driving range of spiritual development and hit a bucket of balls every single day. Read the Bible. Read trusted sources. Meet with people who are looking to deepen their spiritual lives. Attend worship MORE REGULARLY. Practice. Practice. Practice.

Or you can just stay where you are. Remote control in hand. In the recliner. Comfortable with the faith you have, watching reruns.

Grace meets you where you are, but it doesn't intend to leave you there.

If you start the process of growth and skill development in faith and you have a little success, good! It will add a little wind to your sails, so keep going. Practice is what brings us closer to the Perfect.

Peace and Love,
Jerry

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Why I Choose to Say, "I Am Grateful."

September 18




My post last week was about why I don't use the phrase, "I'm blessed." The post elicited a strong reaction from a couple readers. This week I am going to write about the phrase I prefer to use, "I am grateful."

When I say I am grateful I am communicating that events, people, thoughts, actions that have taken place have caused me to react with thanks; with appreciation for what is being recognized. I'm grateful doesn't imply that God has shown me any particular favor while allowing others to appear disfavored. If you read the post last week you know that is important to me.

Over the past week Hurricane Florence has wreaked havoc on North Carolina. People have died. More than 30 at the last count I heard this morning. It's likely there will still be fatalities from Florence, though the worst has passed. Pat Robertson of the CBN Network prayed on television a week and a half ago that Florence would steer away and do no damage to the United States. After the hurricane made landfall he claimed his prayers had succeeded because Florence didn't hit Virginia where the CBN headquarters are. Successful prayers, for my thinking, would have been no more hurricanes that killed anyone anywhere at any time. I wonder if those in North Carolina would agree with Mr. Robertson's assessment of the efficacy of his prayers. I wonder if the people in China who are still enduring Typhoon Mangkhut would agree.

It's this kind of privileged position that gives me great pause with the words I choose. In listening to an On Being podcast with Krista Tippett, Eugene Peterson said, "We cannot be too careful about the words we use; we start out using them and they end up using us.” This gets to the heart of why I am so cautious with language, and why I am much more comfortable saying, "I'm grateful," than, "I'm blessed."

Gratefulness is not just a feeling. It is a way of being in the world. That is, it is an outlook, a state of living in gratitude for all things that come our way from the worst to the best. It is possible to say that I am grateful for the sufferings of this world because much is to be learned from such strife. It is wholly strange to say, all the things I have suffered are evidence that I am blessed. Well, that's my opinion.

Even though the reality is that there are rough patches along my pathway; people I have hurt, things I wish I had not done, people that have hurt me, etc., i choose to be grateful. I choose to see in life the goodness God intends. I choose to believe that God created all that we see and experience, and even that which is beyond our experience, in love and with the idea that all things would work together for good -- eventually. The arc of the universe is long and it tends toward goodness. I choose to be grateful.

Scripture tells us that the rain falls on the just and the unjust alike. Scripture did not speak this into existence. Scripture here simply makes an observation on how it sees human life unfold. I choose to use the phrase, "I'm grateful," even when the rain is falling. 

I am not pollyana-ish about this. I don't see the world through rose-colored glasses. Not at all. Hearing the news of the tragic death of a 4 year old child at a UK football game this week is stark enough reminder that some days stink. Accidents happen. Innocent lives are lost. Perhaps my being able to say, "I'm grateful," is privilege in action. Some would surely say that as a white male living a relatively wealthy life I have the space to be grateful. That may well be true, but I would rather use my privilege to be grateful than to claim any partiality from God, or to be cynical. I am grateful.

Peace and Love,
Jerry 


Monday, September 10, 2018

Why I Don't Say, "I'm Blessed."

September 11

Social media is the instrument of general proclamation about one's life -- if one wants to proclaim something. Social media is the 100,000 watt radio giant that bleeds into the frequencies of other stations if you want to broadcast something about your life. Some people choose to broadcast themselves. Thoughts about why that's the case will wait for another blog post. The reason I start with social media for this post is because that's where I so often see people proclaim, "I am blessed." 
Now, I don't get too judgy about things because I don't want to invite people to get too judgy with me. I have spoken too many hurtful words to others, failed to do what I should have done too often, and been less than I should have been enough that I have no ground from which I can stand in order to judge others. So, if you want to say, "I'm blessed," I am not going to challenge you. But as for me, it's not a phrase I want to use.

Here's why.

For me this goes back to reworking the destruction of July 31, 1976. It was on that day my cousin, Jeff Dallas, and I were on his motorcycle. A car pulled out in front of us. Not ironically, a Mustang. We slammed into the side of the car, at least that's what I am told. I had a head injury and do not remember any of the event. My cousin was killed. I was in the hospital for a few days. Head injury, deep gashes in my leg and a broken claviclein my estimation, relatively unhurt.

In the days and years that followed there was much change in the trajectory of my life. Some people of religious devotion were of great comfort to me. Some people of religious devotion were not helpful to me. Some of those would say, "God took your cousin for a reason." Others might opine, "God has a purpose for you. You are blessed to still be alive."

Processing my survivor's guilt, my PTSD, and where I was headed after the wreck, was a big job for me. It still is. As a 17 year old, it was overwhelming in a lot of ways. But the idea that God essentially killed my cousin was repugnant to me. And this became a baseline thought: God doesn't intentionally take anyone's life. If that is the case then God doesn't intentionally save anyone's life from death either because that would show preference. It would mean that God chooses life for some and death for others. That idea is repugnant to me.


Some people use this phrase, "I am blessed," after a wreck. "We were unharmed. We are blessed." Others might say, "God had HIS hand upon us," even in the face of someone else perishing in that wreck. "God saved us for a purpose." It all means that God chose not to bless someone else, to allow someone else to die, and that you are more special to God because God chose you to live.

You see, that's why I can't bring myself to say that phrase. I am not more special. I am not more worthy of blessing. It makes God preferential, and my God by nature cannot show preference in that manner. It changes the nature of God.

Again, I am not going to challenge you if you use that phrase, but now you have knowledge about why I can't.

Peace and Love,
Jerry
  
In loving memory. 
Jeffrey Scott Dallas 
9.5.1957 - 7.31.1976