Greetings and thanks for visiting our home on the web. As a family in Christ, we believe faith and life should intersect in significant ways—ways that make a difference in our lives today and eternally. If you're looking for that kind of faith experience, you'll find friends for the journey here.
Below, you'll find a series of e-mail newsletters shared weekly with our church family. If you would like to join the weekly e-mail list, just drop a note with your request to bob@firstbaptistconway.us.
Feel free to drop a note to me or to any of our staff with questions regarding membership or ways to get involved in ministry and mission. We'll be glad to help you find meaningful ways to experience and express your faith.
Grateful,
Weekly Devotional Helps for "Prayers from the Cross:
The Seven Last Words of Christ"
As we walk together through the Sundays of Lent and Easter in worship, the sayings of Jesus known as "The Seven Last Words of Christ" will guide us this year. As a resource for your own reading and praying during this time, I'm offering a chart listing the key scriptures, sermon titles and a psalm for your use as you feel led of the Spirit. Eachweek's scripture and sermon is accompanied by Psalm 23, in severaldifferent English translations, and a question for reflection.
To read the latest news and devotions from our pastor,
write bob@firstbaptistconway.us.
December 12, 2008
Advent Reflection: “At Home”
These words by my colleague and friend, Dr. Roger Paynter, pastor of First Baptist Church, Austin, TX, caught my eye and challenged my soul. Read on :
If we do not take the time for ourselves and our families, here is what will happen: We will stop wanting to. If we do not take the time to feel the things we are feeling, we will stop feeling them. It will be more convenient not to. We will be more efficient. And inside, we will be almost dead. We will become addicted to the busyness of our lives, unable to feel at home unless we are running at top speed. And our families will make their lives without us, find their comforts elsewhere. And we will be in our offices, at our meetings and we won’t even know that it happened.
You must assert your need to gather strength from the right places, the healthy places, or you may try to gather it from the wrong ones.
God did not call you into family life and working life in order that you might become angry and sick and dead inside. God called you to abundant life. Not every day is a wonderful day. But every day belongs to you, is a gift to you from a gracious God. Reclaim your days. Find and savor their sweetness, even if you must do so through tears. Don’t let a single one pass in a blur of responsibility and work. A day is too precious a thing to waste. You never get it back.
Did he know he was writing this for me—you, too?—when he penned these words for the weekly newsletter of his church?
The temptation is strong upon us to allow ourselves to be defined as persons of worth by that which is other than—and often antagonistic to—our primary relationships with God and family. Our jobs, what other people think of us, our pride, our money or lack of it were not intended by God to become the center of our sense of being.
Christ’s shalom—his peace that brings to human beings wholeness—calls us otherwise. If we are not careful, we will find ourselves too exhausted and calloused to listen and to hear the words of Life. The busyness and exhaustion of the world’s version of Christmas can make this especially so.
So… “Reclaim your days. Find and savor their sweetness, even if you must do so through tears. Don’t let a single one pass in a blur of responsibility and work. A day is too precious a thing to waste. You never get it back.” -rwg
September 12, 2008
Remembering 9/11/2001
With the 7th anniversary this week of one of those singular days in our country's history that changed our nation and our world, I've posted a transcript of the sermon I had the responsibility and privilege to preach on the first Sunday after the attack. As a pastor serving a church just outside New York City, those I served then were directly and powerfully affected by what happened. Preaching is a privilege as well as a calling, especially in times of great trauma. As inadequate as any words can be, here were mine.
In the sermon, I felt called to offer answers to four questions that arose again and again in conversations in the church and community in the days just after 9/11:
1. Is This the End of the World?
2. How Will We Get Over This and Feel Safe Again?
3. What About the People Who Did This?
4. Where Is God in All of This?
Sermon
Even Now, the Cross: Reflections on 11 September 2001
A Sermon preached on Sunday, September 16, 2001
A Pictorial Remembrance of Fall 2001
As well as the sermon, the links below will open two versions of 44 photos I took in the fall of 2001, just a few weeks after the attack. The photos are all of flags displayed spontaneously by townspeople in honor of those who died, in solidarity with those who were grieving and as a demonstration of unity and love of country. I have other photos from those days, but these images seem to me today a strong, symbolic remembrance of the spirit of unity and good faith that was evident in so many communities during those days. Most of these photos are published here for the first time, though during the week of September 11, 2006, our first fall in Conway and the fifth anniversary of 9/11/2001, the Wilton (CT) town newspaper, The Wilton Bulletin, ran a series of them in print as part of their anniversary retrospective.
"An Invitation to Prayer" is a helpful two-page guide designed to help you in the life of prayer. It will guide you through five forms of prayer using the pattern of scripture reading, question for reflection and silent space for you to listen for God. These pages are only a small beginning, or opening pointer, to get you started and not intended to replace your own inner sense of responding to God's call to pray. God waits to meet you, as you pray. If praying is new for you, or spending time in silence with God seems uncomfortable, try starting with just five minutes and then let your time grow over a period of a few weeks. If you have trouble settling your mind and heart to pray, that's okay. Take a deep breath and let your first prayer be one of asking God to help you "be still and know" your need for quietness. What's important is to begin to take time to pray. In the praying, especially in prayerful silence, you can begin to become ready to hear God's "still, small voice." You can take steps toward knowing God as God is in God's love and, over time, find yourself growing more in God's ways than in any other way you can imagine.
September 5, 2008
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ
A quick trip to the grocery and pharmacy today found many people stocking up for the arrival of a storm named Hanna tonight. While the storm is not expected to be especially severe, it is still a tropical storm and could be a hurricane by the time it arrives. Being prepared is always the best idea. (I did note a fair amount of emergency snack supplies--chips, Oreos, soft drinks--being purchased along with batteries and bottled water. Best to be ready on the snack front, too, I suppose. :)
Being prepared is a good spiritual principle, as well as common sense. Indeed, a "disciple" is one who prepares by the study of a "discipline" with the goal of mastery of subject matter--when you're in school--and mastery of what matters most in life--when you're in the school of Christ. Preparation makes wise actions more likely and foolish decisions less likely. Being disciplined in relationships, money matters, social responsibilities and the practices of faith that open the way to knowing God makes the difference between a life of continual frustration and one with the potential for true joy, peace and motivation for service.
One very significant way we prepare as disciples of Christ at FBC is our devotion to Bible study. To truly appreciate the richness of God's revelation through the scripture takes time and discipline. To those who put in the work will come the reward of a deeper appreciation for God's word, renewed devotion to God's way and growing desire to know God in more satisfying ways. Sure, you can dip your toes into the edge of the pool of Bible study, if you want to, but that never been enough for me. I'd rather dive in!
This week you can take the plunge into Bible study by attending a Sunday School class on Sunday. It's the first day of the new church year and Promotion Sunday for Preschoolers, Children and Students. If you are a parent of younger children, help them prepare for Sunday morning on Saturday night by helping them set out clothes for Sunday morning, their Bible and offering, and get to bed on time. If you have older children and teenagers, remind them of the importance of a good night's sleep--maybe remind yourself, too! It rarely bothers me when people sleep in church as I assume they must REALLY need it. The sanctuary may be the most peaceful place they've found in a long time for the body to rest, so--so be it. But, missing the richness of Bible study by snoozing through it, no way. It will always be true that all of us will seldom ever get out of our Sunday morning experiences more than what we put into it. (If you haven't been in a class for a while, or want to learn what your children are up to in Sunday School, our Sunday School Directory will help: http://firstbaptistconway.us/files/SundaySchoolDirectory_2008-2009.pdf)
You can plunge again by attending one of several Bible study groups for men and women that meet among the members. You can read about these in The Outlook and the worship guides. This Sunday, I'll begin the Kerygma short course on "Genesis" at 4:00 p.m. You're welcome to join the group that's signed up--or just check it out for a week before committing. Next Thursday, I'll begin the next Kerygma: The Bible in Depth study at 7:00 p.m. Again, you can sign up this Sunday or Wednesday, or just come and give the study a test drive. In the first session, we cover exactly how we got the Bible and how we know it is trustworthy. Both Kerygma studies will meet on the third floor above the church offices. (We study the Bible, too, as part of Wednesday night prayer meeting. We're working on Romans right now.)
Dive in!
Grace and peace,
Bob
February 29, 2008
A Story and Prayer for Lenten Reflection. It may seem a bit incongruous to offer a Jewish, rabbinical story for a Christian Lenten reflection, however we share the same root of faith and the same call from God to practice penitence and to desire transformation in God's image. Father Henri Nouwen shared this story in one of his many books on prayer and leadership. I find it fitting for these Lenten days—lent literally means "the time of lengthening days" (or Spring). We start in the season of winter, with the darkness that still comes early each day. We end Lent as Holy Week yields to the light/Light of Resurrection Sunday. If Lent has done its spiritual work on us, we have used the cycle of the days to ask God to reveal the darkness of sin in our lives that we might experience the newness of Christ's forgiveness and the purity of the power of his resurrection. I hope this story and my prayer—both of which were part of my community Lenten Luncheon presentation yesterday at St. Paul's—helpful in your spiritual preparation. Both follow below.
Grace and peace!
BG
A Rabbi Teaches about Night and Day (as told by Henri Nouwen)
An old rabbi once asked his pupils how they could tell when the night had ended and the day had begun.
“Could it be,” asked one of the students, “when you can see an animal in the distance and tell whether it’s a sheep or a dog?” “No,” answered the rabbi.
Another asked, “Is it when you can look at a tree in the distance and tell whether it’s a fig tree or a peach tree?” “No,” answered the rabbi.
“Then when is it?” the pupils demanded.
“It is when you can look on the face of any man or woman and see that it is your sister or brother. Because if
you cannot see this, it is still night (between us).”
A LENTEN PRAYER
Robert W. Guffey, Jr.
February 26, 2008
Come Lord Jesus,
though the shadows of lent and the darkness of a tomb
loom over us
Come Light of the world,
who spoke creation into being and split the nothingness
with your Spirit.
Come Dayspring,
visited upon us through the sheer, tender mercy
of our God.
Come Lord Jesus
into a world that seems determined to push itself
towards evening’s twilight.
Rise to break uncertainty and gloom
with the splendor and majesty of another day,
another tomorrow, another promise,
another hope, another Easter morn.
Amen.
August 24, 2007
"LIght Readings" for today have in mind back to school, in the first, and the water-full experiences of last Sunday's baptism and this week's storms.
Stay focused on Christ!
Grace and peace,
Bob
Light Reading/“Tug of Love”
Mixed emotions rule this time of year. Parents of first graders know their little ones are not so little any more. You are glad they are growing up but somehow elementary school has come sooner than you had expected.
Delight and anxiety merge for youngsters. Children enjoy the adventure of learning and their growing independence, but you secretly suspect (hope?) they would trade it all for one more preschool day, especially for those with the luxury of spending the days with a parent at home.
College students and their parents face similar feelings. Parents send children off to face a world that will challenge adolescent assumptions. New freshmen (and freshwomen!) can hardly wait to be on their own. Time to be your own person, make your own decisions. Time for Mom and Dad to hit the road—or so you think. Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. Junior will call soon. He or she will call because they miss you. Just don’t expect them to come right out and say it.
To feel this way means one thing: you are normal. Hang in there; God walks with you. God knows what its like to let a Child go out into the world.
If you think you have splendid hopes and dreams for your children, just imagine the awesome ones God has in store for them as they learn and grow.
© 2007 Robert W. Guffey, Jr., Station of the Cross
Light Reading/“Rain”
Tuesday two weeks ago, I was driving through the east Texas town of Nacogdoches on my way to meetings in Houston when a miracle happened, a very baptist miracle. It rained.
For five minutes or more, huge drops of wonderful water drenched my blue Accord. After weeks and weeks of drought in northwest Louisiana plus scorching heat, the rain seemed extraordinary.
I found myself wanting to pull off to the side of the road and just watch the rain. Puffs of dust arose from the dry roadside dirt as spheres of refreshment dove earthward and plowed into it. As the sky unloaded around me, the grass seemed to grow greener and the trees looked richer. I know it was the momentary illusion of wetness but the illusion seemed to promise greenness and richness just the same.
My ability to breathe easier after the rain was no illusion. The air really was, at least for a brief while, cleaner, purer and easier to take.
Our baptist affinity for water is a fitting metaphor for what it means to be Christian. Our immersion is not only into baptismal waters but into Jesus. Our drenching is not just rite of passage into church membership but symbolizes our deepest desire to be saturated and overwhelmed with Christ rather than inordinate demands of ego, family (yes, some families stand opposed to Christ) or culture.
The end reality of the Christian life is that we become submersed deeply within the reality of Jesus, that we become Jesus in manner and character and action to those we love and to the world. Remember your baptism, sisters and brothers. It is significant reminder that we are on a road paved by grace. This road leads through heavenly waters towards a forever–home where no one thirsts and life grows green with all the richness of God.
© 2007 Robert W. Guffey, Jr., Station of the Cross
Light Reading/Following Stars
July 27, 2007
Lately I’ve been thinking about the process of aging and how it challenges our sense of who we are and how we maintain our sense of identity and self as we age. Oddly enough, this reflection was launched after coming across a film clip of “Watch Mr. Wizard” in living black-and-white on the Internet. Though Don Herbert, “Mr. Wizard,” was a regular part of my Saturday mornings growing up, it wasn’t the show that got me thinking as much as the memory, receding through time and compared to my life today, made me think of how much has changed in my life since I was young, especially when it comes to the names and faces of the people who defined my days. I’ve thought about this off and on ever since my father-in-law became ill and physically incapacitated over twenty years ago. Accompanying the sadness of his experiences of pain and debilitation has been my own sense of the loss of his presence and his voice—a voice of strength, comfort, guidance and great humor—prematurely silenced. The reflection has intensified as I have found myself in an accelerating time of saying farewell to friends of an older generation, people who have been among God’s finest representatives on earth, people who, through their leadership, insight, teaching, witness and force of personality, shaped and inspired the best of my world. Some of this reflection is the grief that comes to all of us as we face significant change, but the question remains: How do we maintain the sense of who we are and the integrity of our deepest values and personhood in the face of change?
All of us are defined as persons within multiple contexts, I know. Family relationships, the places where we live, our health, the times and events of our era all play a part in shaping the experiences that help form personality. It seems to me, though, if we are to go into the second half of life, we need to live beyond memory and circumstance and allow the loves and lives of others to live in us as they best reflect the love and life of God. We can honor their lives by living our own lives, as we are defined by the call and mercy of God. We can love them by loving more the God they loved. We can hear their voices in our singing and celebrating, not as homage to the past but as “the great cloud of witnesses” who have been praising God since before memory, the great cloud of sisters and brothers before the throne of God who we join in small part in worship and will join in fullness one day. The continuity of history is redeemed and transcended by the timelessness of the life of God, of God’s intention to include us all in God’s life and the deep joy that comes from finding in our human, chronology-bound relationships what was called in another long-ago day a taste of “glory divine.”
Our points of reference, like stars to ancient mariners, reflect a light that is not wholly their own. That light is our truest and final context and reference for knowing and being known. Emanating from the graceful heart of God, perceived through the eyes of faith, it defines our days, sets us to tasks of its own making and, if we live into it with authenticity and integrity, reflects from our lives—as humble or grand as they may be—to those who follow, with Good News for the next generation.
Grace and peace,
bg
LIGHT READING/“Life Is a Gift”
June 16, 2007
John Claypool, preaching to his Fort Worth congregation after the death of his 10-year-old daughter Laura Lue, stood as a human being deeply wounded by life’s capriciousness. He, like many others, had prayed, questioned and “pounded on the door of heaven till your knuckles are running with blood and all you hear on the other side of the door is a massive, emphatic silence.” What then?
Faced with such tragedy, Claypool testified that the “only way down from the mountain of loss,” theologically and practically, was gratitude. He claimed no special insights on grief. He did not attempt to give simple answers to life’s most profound and perplexing questions. He shared his pilgrimage through the pain.
“Everywhere I turn I am surrounded by reminders of her—things we did together, things she said, things she loved. And in the presence of the reminders, I have two alternatives: dwelling on the fact that she has been taken away, I can dissolve in remorse that all of this is gone forever; or, focusing on the wonder that she was given to us at all, I can learn to be grateful that we shared life, even for an all-too-short ten years. …the only way out is the way of gratitude. The way of remorse does not alter the stark reality one whit and only makes matters worse. The way of gratitude does not alleviate the pain, but it somehow puts some light around the darkness and builds strength to begin to move on.
“Life is a gift—every last particle of it, and the way to handle a gift is to be grateful. As I see it now, there is only one way out of this darkness—the way of gratitude. Will you join me in trying to learn how to travel that way?”
I am willing to walk that way. Will you go with me?
Your partner in faith,
Bob
Light Reading/Pastoral Parenting
June 1, 2007
“I don’t want to go to Sunday School!” is a refrain heard by parents in many households on Sunday mornings. Rumor has it that even a few ministers and Sunday School teachers have cried the same thing! :o) Parent educators have encouraged parents to begin giving children age-appropriate choices at the earliest possible opportunity, correctly understanding that children who have experience making choices early in life are typically better prepared to make the significant decisions that are bound to come later. The key word, though, is age-appropriate. Some choices, though, like choosing to go to school or Sunday School or, say, the doctor’s for immunization shots—not that Sunday School is nearly as painful!—children lack the knowledge, foresight, and maturity to make. That leaves it up to—you guessed it—you, the parent (or grandparent, as the case may be).
Rather than feel guilty or capitulate to feeble melodrama, try these suggestions to help your children absorb and obey your decision to go to Sunday School. (To read more "Pastoral Parenting," point your browser to http://www.famucon.com. The following list, and the title of this column, came from this site, dedicated to helping parents in their parenting.)
First, begin talking about Sunday on Saturday. Remind your children tomorrow is the day the family goes to church. For young children, try a special sticker or picture to signify Sunday on the calendar. Children do better when we take time to prepare them for future events and be specific about expectations for behavior.
Second, get ready ahead of time. Let your children choose with you and lay out their Sunday clothes on Saturday night. Get to bed early, just like a school night.
Third, remember the good things. Children often forget how much they enjoy something once they are out of the environment. Help them remember the fun things they’ve done and talked about in Sunday School. Ask them if they’d like to share the fun with a friend.
Fourth, demonstrate appreciation. Let your children know how much you appreciate those times when they are cooperative. A pat on the shoulder or a warm glance goes a long way.
Growing up in a family of Christian faith is a great blessing, but it doesn’t just happen spontaneously. It takes you, your church family, your children, and God working together in partnership that we all might become all we can be in Christ.
Still growing!
bg
Light Reading/Seeing Others As Does Jesus
May 18, 2007
One of my favorite not-so-old movies is Driving Miss Daisy, the Best Picture Oscar winner of 1989. The movie has many touching and inspiring highlights, but this exchange between stubborn, independent Miss Daisy Werthan, played by Jessica Tandy, and good-humored Hoke Coleburn, Miss Daisy's driver for decades, played by Morgan Freeman, is among the best.
Hoke’s career of driving the well-to-do Miss Daisy around Atlanta is winding down, due to both their advanced ages. One morning, Hoke arrives for work and finds Miss Daisy mentally confused and showing signs of dementia. When Hoke tries to talk her back to reality, her old fire strikes and she lashes out to say, “You ought not to be driving anything the way you see.”
Hoke replies gently,“How you know how I can see, less’n you can look out my eyes?”
A moment of lucidity returns to Daisy and she responds. “Hoke, you’re my best friend.” She reaches for Hoke’s hand and their journey together continues in respect and friendship. It has been a journey, not just to the Piggly-Wiggly or to the Georgia countryside or to far-off places like Mobile, but one of transcending race, class and religion toward a shared humanity.
A lot of problems in our lives couldbe solved, or at least reduced,if we could hear Hoke's words and practicegracein how we see others. Harsh comments and petty gossip would be replaced byunderstanding, second chances, and giving others the benefit ofdoubt. I havefound that most people, once they sit in the same room and get to know oneanother, and take the time to hear and see through the other's eyes, have aneasier time believing the other is less a threat and could become a friend. Evenpeople whose natural personalities clash can learn to get along by looking atothers, if not through the others' eyes--their circumstance, their heritage,their past experiences, their better intentions--then through the eyes of theLord Jesus.
Seeing through another’s eyes was Jonah’s problem. When God decided not to destroy the Ninevites, Jonah sulked. All Jonah saw when he looked at Ninevah was an evil lot who had given him a rough time. God saw human beings God had created and loved even through their fallen ways. Jonah had no desire to see through either the eyes of a Ninevite or the eyes of God.
“From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view,” wrote Paul to the Corinthians, an imperfect lot, if ever there was, “even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way… in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!”
Learning to see others as Jesus sees us takes patience. Learning empathy by seeing through the eyes of another takes grace and the desire to want to do so. Learning to speak better of others means our lives will be more inspired and inspiring. No longer speaking ill of others means we are no longer speaking ill of the Christ who lives in others, too.
And the result of this new seeing? Love.
Looking forward,
bg
Reflections on the Meaning of Prayer
May 11, 2007
"We have fallen into the temptation of separating ministry from spirituality, service from prayer. Our demon says: 'We are too busy to pray; we have too many needs to attend to, too many people to respond to, too many wounds to heal. Prayer is a luxury...' But to think this way is harmful... Service and prayer can never be separated." -Henri Nouwen, from The Living Reminder
"To be human is to pray, to meditate both day and night on the love and activity of God. We are called to be continuously formed and transformed by the thought of God within us. Prayer is a disciplined dedication to paying attention. Without the singleminded attentiveness of prayer we will rarely hear anything worth repeating or catch a vision worth asking anyone else to gaze upon."
-John H. Westerhoff III and John D. Eusden from The Spiritual Life
"O Lord, who else or what else can I desire but you? You are my Lord, Lord of my heart, mind, and soul. You know me through and through. In and through you everything that is finds its origin and goal. You embrace all that exists and care for it with divine love and compassion. Why, then, do I keep expecting happiness and satisfaction outside of you? Why do I keep relating to you as one of my many relationships, instead of my only relationship, in which all other ones are grounded? Why do I keep looking for popularity, respect from others, success, acclaim, and sensual pleasures? Why, Lord, is it so hard for me to make you the only one? Why do I keep hesitating to surrender myself totally to you?
"Help me, O Lord, to let my old self die, to let die the thousand big and small ways in which I am still building up my false self and trying to cling to my false desires. Let me be reborn in you and see through you the world in the right way, so that all my actions, words, and thought can become a hymn of praise to you."
-Henri Nouwen, from A Cry for Mercy
Light Reading/The Power of Friendship and Being the Church
April 27, 2007
Having friends in the church makes all the difference in the world. In fact, a recent Gallup study, designed to measure how friendship connects people in faith to the quality of their church experience, shows that “74% of church members who worship with a best friend say their faith is involved in every aspect of their life” while only “54% of members without a best friend at church say the same thing.” When church members meet with other members regularly at times other than the usual Sunday morning services, the effect on their lives in dramatic, too. In one example, 77% of highly satisfied, involved, participating and ministering church members have eaten a meal (other than at church) with people in their congregation over the last year while only 27% of church members who have not eaten a meal with people in their congregation (other than at church) report high satisfaction with their church. (That should be motivation for those of us who love to eat!)
The Gallup study reaffirms something we, at First Baptist Church, know is true: Churches effective in reaching others for Christ with authenticity and integrity are those that take seriously friendship and making friends. Not only that. They do the intentional, sometimes hard work, of being on the lookout for those who are new, sensitive to spending time with those who are new, and opening their current circles of friendship to make room for others who come our way as gifts from the Lord.
When Frederick Buechner wrote about friendship in his book, Whistling in the Dark: An ABC Theologized, he put a theological point on it and said it this way:
“The Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his friend,” the Book of Exodus says (Exodus 33:11), and in the Book of Isaiah it is God himself who says the same thing of Abraham. “Abraham, my friend,” he calls him (Isaiah 41:8). It is a staggering thought.
The love of God. The mercy of God. The judgment of God. You take the shoes off your feet and stand as you would before a mountain or at the edge of the sea. But the friendship of God?
It is not something God does. It is something Abraham and God, or Moses and God, do together. Not even God can be a friend all by himself apparently. You see Abraham, say, not standing at all but sitting down, loosening his prayer shawl…There is no agenda. They are simply being together, the two of them, and being themselves.
Is it a privilege only for patriarchs? Not as far as Jesus is concerned at least. “You are my friends,” he says, “if you do what I command you.” The command, of course, is “to love one another,” as he puts it. To be his friends, that is to say, we have to be each other’s friends, conceivably even lay down our lives for each other. You never know (John 15:12-15). It is a high price to pay, and Jesus does not pretend otherwise, but the implication is that it’s worth every cent.
More than doctrinal literacy, the preacher’s sermons (though we preacher-types hate to admit it), worship styles, great teaching or hands-on mission service—as important as those are for our personal growth in Christ, what makes the difference over and over again in building the kind of churches that make a difference for Christ in the world is the power of friendship. The friendships we share and the new friendships we are making witness—and are a witness—of the reality of Christ to the world.
Expanding my reach,
BG
April 17, 2007
Brothers and Sisters in Christ,
In light of the events of this week, I offer this prayer poem for today.
It will run in this week's edition of the "Outlook."
Wishing you peace, bg
•
What Tomorrow Brings/A Prayer Resource for Today
“Yet you do not even know what tomorrow will bring.”
–James 4:14
O, LORD,
College days are supposed to be days of learning
about life
about our place in the world
about relationships
about how we might help make a difference
in the healing of your world.
They are not supposed to be like our yesterday, a day
of trauma
of tragedy
of chaos
of urgent, rushing heartbeats stilled.
As Your body at work in the world, O LORD, we pray
for the healing
of bodies wounded
of emotions afflicted
of spirits in turmoil
of trust beset.
Would You redeem this moment in our today by reminding us,
that You are our certainty
that You hold our today, tomorrow and forever
that You are already at work mending the scars
of grief and sorrow
that You will make sense of what is senseless one
day?
We do not know about tomorrow but we know about You.
In that lives our confidence, our hope, our persistence,
Our everlasting desire to be present as Christ to the world
in all things, all times, all places.
Amen.
–Robert Guffey,
Conway, SC
______________________________________________________________________________
Light Reading/Witness That Makes a Difference
April 13, 2007
In early American history, as commonly understood, Manhattan (NY), was sold by its native inhabitants to European (Dutch) entrepreneurs for the staggeringly low price of $24, a figure calculated first during the mid-1800s. Author Russell Shorto, in his informative and enjoyable recent book, The Island at the Center of the World: The Epic Story of Dutch Manhattan and the Forgotten Colony That Shaped America, writes the greater truth that the Indians did not believe they were selling the land, but that they were entering into a covenant of relationship with their soon-to-be new European neighbors. They did not receive money for the transaction from the Dutch, but were given items important for everyday survival. Narratives of the period show the Indians, who did not think in terms of “tracts” and “deeds,” may have “sold” the island, but they never intended to move out. They were present in the forts and villages, working, trading and joining in protecting each other’s settlements for their mutual benefit. Their idea of “place and space” was something to be shared more than owned.
That clip from history brings to mind two points, at least. First, different peoples entering into personal, business or geopolitical relationships can use the same language and vocabulary to communicate, but they can, intentionally or not, mean entirely contrasting or conflicting ideas or purposes. Whether on your first date or negotiating world peace, you had better do your homework and understand, as well as possible, how “the other” grew up, learned to talk and walk, and what he, she or they value most and least in life. Second, when you are not sure what the other party has said, observe how they act. How a person, family or group acts tells you who they really are, as opposed to who you may think they are.
For us as Christians, there’s a great difference in saying we want to grow up to be like Christ and actually living like Christ. Our words of witness about Jesus’ love, care and compassion are made real when the actions of our lives are congruent with what we have been saying.
Keeping it real,
Bob
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A Light Reading for Silent Saturday/It Is Finished, But It Is Not Over
Robert W Guffey Jr
April 7, 2007
Consummatum est. Those five Latin syllables, meaning “It is finished,” compose Jesus’ Sixth Word from the cross. They are, also, Franz Joseph Hadyn’s own musical autograph. Consummatum est. “It is finished.” In his two-century old Good Friday masterpiece, “The Seven Last Words of Christ,” Hadyn establishes the musical theme for the Sixth Word using a process called solfeggio. He translates the five syllables of consummatum est into their musical equivalents. In so doing, he composes five notes, played by the violin, that begin and end on the same tone producing a musical symmetry that moves from minor key to major key, ending on the lowest note the violin can play. Those five notes, consummatum est, form a supremely low ending that leads to a beginning. Consummatum est. “It is finished,” but it is not over.
Like Hadyn’s musical theme and symmetry, the Sixth Word, “It is finished,” leads followers of the Lord Jesus back to the First Word spoken by Christ on the cross on that Good Friday: “Father, forgive them.” That is what this weekend is all about. “Father, forgive them.” In Christ, God was at work forgiving the world. In Christ’s words, we are reminded that the basis of everything true and right about us and the world in which we live is based on the forgiveness of God. We approach the mystery of the crucifixion; through our sinful ways, we participate in the death of God. We linger at the cross astounded to hear the world-transforming words, “Father, forgive them.”
It is what Jesus said he had come to earth to do, to seek and save those who were lost—like you and me.
“Indeed, God did not send the Son
into the world to condemn the world,
but in order that the world might be saved
through him.”
That is what was finished. Obedient to the will of God, Jesus laid down his life to save the world from the problem of sin, the problem of our estranged relationship with God, the problem of our diminishing sense of God and of our need for God, our growing detachment from God and care for one another and God’s world, our dehumanization of others, our angry, self-centered lifestyles, our complacency toward wars and violence and the unraveling of communities. We need to be transformed, to be changed. And so, on the first Good Friday, Jesus hung from the cross, the Lamb of God, the one, final sacrifice to deliver human beings from their sin, and declared, “It is finished.”
It is finished. The defeat of sin.
It is finished. Our slavery to sin.
It is finished. The power of violence and death that intimidates disciples.
It is finished. The old way of living.
It has only begun: the new way of living, the life of redemption and reconciliation, a life in the world but not of the world, a life that has nothing to fear from sin or death, or those who wield sin and death as weapons in this world.
The power of the early church rested in the “It is finished” of Jesus. At the cross, Jesus voided the power of violence over those he loves. He absorbed the threat of separation from God and gave power to martyrdom, to loving God’s way more than the world’s violent way, to witnessing to the life of the cross-shaped love of Christ to a world that did not care to hear. Let Rome, in all times and guises, try with all its might. Let those who hate and hurt try with all their might. We live by the power and grace of God who loves us and gave himself for us and that knowledge sets us free to follow and obey in love the Lord who says, “Come. Follow me.”
The “It is finished” of the cross sets us free for a new beginning of life lived in the fundamental moral character and spirit of forgiveness, even in this world where Christ still suffers with those who suffer. The “It is finished” challenges our vision and commitments. It pushes us toward life in the light of Christ that helps us reinterpret the cross-shaped experiences of our lives, especially for those of us who have witnessed or experienced great trauma and suffering. We live in the tension of the promise of “It is finished” and the fullness of experience of God’s forgiving, healing, reconciling love. We are not “advised to get off a hopeless world and forget about its problems,” writes Morton Kelsey, “but rather to turn toward the cross, pass through the suffering and come to a victory that transcends suffering.”
We can do that because of the cross, because of the “It is finished” of Jesus. We can do that because the “It is finished”—the consummatum est—proclaims there is no light without darkness, no fullness without emptiness, no reunion without parting, no joy without grief and “only where graves are is there resurrection.”
It is finished. It has only begun.
Hanging in there,
BG
LIGHT READING/"Why (Some) People Like Sports"
When near the end of the movie, Field of Dreams, James Earl Jones’ character, (very) loosely based on J.D. Salinger, explains the movement of time and history as guarded and guided by the movements of baseball, not everyone buys it. I did, because I like the game and the movie, which is one of my favorites—I’ve got it on video and DVD, if you want to borrow it—but to claim modern history as being ruled by the sport is, I admit, a bit of a stretch.
Still, most of us like sports. We like to play it, watch it, wear it and talk about it. The Season of Lent is, also, of course, the Season of the NCAA Tournament/Journey to the Final Four. Baseball’s “fall classic” and college football make for colorful and fun afternoons. (I can take or leave pro football, but millions of people feel otherwise.) Days on the golf course and tennis court can reveal your character! Church softball can reveal the depth of your true religion. :)
One reason so many people like sports is simply because it’s great, surprising fun. The drama of being one pitch away from victory can be wonderfully thrilling and amazingly exhausting—ask fans of the ’86 California/Anaheim/Los Angeles Angels who were one pitch from winning the American League Championship Series from the Boston Red Sox and didn’t, or the ’86 Boston Red Sox who were one pitch from winning the World Series from the New York Mets but didn’t, or the (dreaded) ’04 New York Yankees who were one pitch from winning the American League Championship Series but didn’t (yes, you do notice a recurring Red Sox theme here :). Whether your team won the “big one” or didn’t, you were glad to have been along for the ride.
As I’ve thought about the popularity of sports, and why so many people devote themselves to it—one professional church observer noted a few years ago that more people attend NASCAR on weekends than go to Sunday School—I think they do so more for the psychological benefits, both positive and negative, than the physical or mental. If you are a “people person,” you gain a sense of community from the “event” of sports, a sense of being with others, celebrating common victories and consoling each other in shared defeats. Sports imparts identity and opportunities for accomplishment, if only vicariously. Sports gives the person a chance to say “we” in an era of overindulgent individualism. Too, it sometimes overrides self-identity in unhealthy persons who identify too much with team to the expense of relationships with other persons, and, in some, sports can be turned in harmful ways to emphasize and express dichotomies of power/powerlessness, winner/loser mentalities and violence, but I see that as abuse of the best of what sports can offer and not the core of its intended or original value.
As I’ve thought about the psychological value of the game, I think some people like sports for another reason. When you play sports, when you are “in the game,” you are in one of the few places in life where everyone knows the rules and must play by them, where there is a clear beginning and ending of action and timeline and where the rewards for focused behavior and success are immediate. Especially in our time of national anxiety, of floods and hurricanes, of so many people under stress and in distress, involvement in something with focus, limits and guaranteed conclusion must seem like a blessing and oasis for the spirits of people.
I understand that, I think, as much or more than most. As a pastor, I see people “in process,” often at their most vulnerable. I see people living in the midst of worry and anguish. I see people who are stuck, literally and figuratively, in the middle of spiritual “night” and praying for movement toward the dawning of the Lord’s presence and best will for their lives. It’s hard to be stuck in the midst of time and the times. It’s deeply frustrating to discover “life” doesn’t always follow neat, predictable patterns and rules. It hurts to discover while you were “playing by the rules” others were not, to your detriment and disillusionment. It’s tempting to want to step out of the difficulty of process for any promised respite of a conclusion.
Maybe that’s what sports gives some people. That’s fine, as far as it goes. As Christians, though, we can enjoy sports—in its proper place and priority—and celebrate the reality that, more importantly, life in the Lord Jesus Christ can transcend the temporary satisfaction of earthly victories or the illusory sense of identity with the team that tends to dissipate when everyone has gone home and the stands are empty. In Christ, we have One who will never leave us, who will help us mature into persons who can handle the paradoxes, unanswered questions and unsolved mysteries of being a human being, and who will carry us through the process toward the goal of eternal life in the presence of God.
Cheering you on,
BG
Light Reading/Meaning for Today: Why John’s Revelation Is Worth the Trouble
February 9, 2007
In our Wednesday evening explorations of the Revelation of John, our first concern has been to answer the question, “What did John’s readers know then that we might not know today?” In answering that question, we have become students of the Old Testament scriptures and the world of Christians in the first two centuries A.D., assuming John’s congregations brought to the text certain experiences and assumptions regarding (a) what was then a popular style of Jewish and early Christian writing in times of peril (apocalyptic) and (b) the biblical, social, political, and economic circumstances of their times. Learning about these unlocks for us the value they found in this profound, and often profoundly confusing today, word from God.
In understanding the context of the earliest Christians, and in coming to grips with the reality of Christian martyrs and martyrdom—the New Testament words standing behind our words witness and testimony—that mark the early centuries of our faith, we find Revelation truly fulfilling what its name means. Revelation means “to pull back or undo the veil.” In coming to understand John and his times, we create the opportunity to discover, not a confusing set of signs and symbols designed to tell twenty-first Christians details on the unfolding of cataclysmic events in the future, but powerful and deep connections to the hope Christians in every time have in Christ and his cross, past, present, future and forever. It is a hope so strong it can pull Christians through the darkest circumstances because of what Christ has done for us.
Our work in Revelation can, also, connect us to the roots of our forefathers and –mothers in the faith and their courage and passion for the gospel. We can discover what it meant to them to be followers of Jesus Christ. These earliest Christians were reached by the gospel of Jesus that called together a new and large family made up of men and women, rich and poor, young and old, slave and free, Jew and Gentile, laborer and members of Caesar’s household. They believed the gospel and so trusted the gospel that they risked everything on God’s version of reality, not Caesar’s. In the literal testimony—that is, sacrifice—of their lives they proclaimed the true life of Christ that is (still) bringing to fulfillment the values of the Kingdom of God, even in dark and fierce times. They embodied the words of Paul, spiritually and literally, to be “crucified with Christ; and it is no longer [they] who live, but it is Christ who lives in [them].” In the family of faith, we stand on their shoulders.
In our context, it’s hard to study Revelation without disagreements about “end times” and over interpretations that tend to divide the Body of Christ. Still, Revelation can speak meaningfully for our day from the standpoint of pastoral care and discipleship in ways in which we can all agree and benefit.
What does Revelation have to say clearly to us today in this way? Let me offer seven ways, a good number and one woven throughout the fabric of the drama of the Revelation.
- 1. In the most challenging circumstance, hold on. You are not alone. You will be able to hold on because Christ is present and holding on to you.
- 2. Do not be surprised when difficult life circumstances get worse before they get better.
- 3. A Christian’s relationship to God calls for letting go of relationships and practices in the world when those relationships and practices threaten allegiance that belongs only to God.
- 4. Choosing primary allegiance to God and God’s ways can have enormous costs, worth paying.
- 5. Great love and faithfulness among Christian brothers and sisters is made possible by the great love and faithfulness of Christ.
- 6. God has already conquered evil in this world. It has limits and will not prevail.
- 7. The power of the gospel of Jesus Christ conquers through sacrificial love. Christian martyrdom reflected deep love and steadfast belief in the gospel to bring life. Compare that to radical fundamentalist martyrdom of any kind that seeks to take life and affect change through violence. Christians are to resist evil with vigor and to do so as Christ does.
In context of its first hearing as the Word of God—the Babylonian Exile—the first chapters of the Bible addressed, not modern arguments about creation, evolution or worldwide floods, but the hidden, gnawing questions, doubts and concerns echoing in the hearts of God’s people, Israel-in-Exile, about God’s power, knowledge, providence and protection. The people wondered if God really was in control and if God cared. The Word of God proclaimed, “In the beginning, God.” God was in the beginning, and before the beginning. All that was created was created by God for the purposes of God. That same God who spoke, “Let there be” still speaks and cares and guides.
In context of its first hearing as the Word of God—Roman Empire and domination—the last chapters of the Bible addressed, not modern arguments over timetables, but the same hidden, gnawing questions, doubts and concerns echoing in the hearts of God’s people, the Church, anticipating and then living the exile of persecution and martyrdom. The same Word of God, that is Christ, who proclaimed, “In the beginning, God,” now proclaims, “In the ending that yields new beginning, God.”
Revelation is the supreme application of the gospel in the lives of human beings. In Revelation, God’s dreams for Eden are finally coming true.
Growing in gratitude,
bg
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February 2, 2007
Light Reading/The Messiah We Need
In the Talmud, the story is told of the day Rabbi Joshua called upon the Prophet Elijah and asked, “When will the Messiah come?”
Elijah replied, “Go and ask him yourself.”
“Where is he?”
“Sitting at the gates of the city?”
“How shall I know him?”
“He is sitting among the poor covered with wounds, binding the wounds of others”
Obediently, Rabbi Joshua goes to the gates of the city looking for the Messiah, but the Messiah he finds disappoints.
“Peace unto you, my master and teacher.”
“Peace unto you, son of Levi,” answered the Messiah.
“When is the Messiah coming?”
“Today.”
Rabbi Joshua returns to Elijah to speak of his disappoint in the Messiah. Elijah asks, “What did he tell you?”
“He indeed has deceived me, for he said ‘Today I am coming’ and he has not come.”
To which Elijah responds, quoting from Psalm 95:7, “This is what he told you: ‘Today if you would listen to His voice.’”
Joshua went looking for a messiah to meet his expectations and his needs. He went looking for one in charge of destiny, one who would vanquish his enemies, one who looked like a king. Instead, he found a messiah whose place was among the poor and wounded, whose kingdom was defined by sacrifice and whose call to believers is to listen to His voice calling them to make real His presence through sacrifice and service to others. He found a Messiah whose call would transform him into the image of the Messiah serving the Messiah-in-others, in the presence of the poor, and poor in spirit, with the compassion of the Messiah who brings merciful healing and wholeness that is just.
That sounds a lot like the Lord Jesus to me, the same Lord Jesus who calls his followers, borrowing from Paul to the Ephesians, to “lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called.”
That sounds like the same Lord Jesus who calls you and me to listen to His voice:
I AM sitting among the poor
I AM sitting among the hurting
I AM sitting among the hungry
I AM sitting among the lonely
I AM sitting among those addicted to that which does not satisfy
I AM sitting among the young waiting to be taught
I AM sitting among the old waiting to be loved
I AM sitting among adults caught in the middle of life stretched to the limits
I AM calling you to serve Me as you serve the Me in others.
This is the Messiah the world needs today, and has always needed. This is the Messiah who promises to come “Today if you would listen to His voice.”
Grace and peace,
bg
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January 26, 2007
Light Reading/When Rules Are Rules
Microsoft's announcement of next week's release of Vista, the newest version of the Windows computer operating system, reminded me of a dark day in my computing experience. Many of you know computers have been something of a hobby for me, but even those with some knowledge of personal computing can make near-fatal mistakes! I did it a couple of years ago when I broke one of the cardinal rules of personal computing: “If it’s not broken, don’t try to fix it.”
Having filled my multi-gigabyte hard drive with programs and data, and needing more space, especially for charming digital photos of our grandchild, I decided to take a drive from an older PC, which had become a doorstop in the basement, and add it to my home computer. Wanting to be sure I understood certain arcane facts about the motherboard in my newer machine, I browsed over to the manufacturer’s website to read the board’s specifications, and to look for other technical notes that might be helpful. (Now I realize for some of you, just thinking about doing anything with a PC other than send email, write papers and play games makes you break out in a sweat. Don’t worry. The technical part of this column is almost over!)
As well as finding what I was looking for, I found a tantalizing page customized “just for me” by the manufacturer for my particular machine offering “improved” software to run some of the hardware in my machine. So, I downloaded a file to “improve” the way the sound card on my PC created sound--and promptly crashed the computer. After exhausting my technical know-how and spending two hours on the phone with a kind and gentle tech support person, we got the machine running again, which was good news. The bad news—and it was very bad—is that to do so meant deleting all the data from my hard drive and starting over from scratch. (Do I hear moans and groans out there?) Thank the Lord I DO follow the rules about backing up data.
Through the experience, I was reminded of three things.
First, when it comes to disregarding rules meant for your own good, be careful. Those prone to clichés encourage us to “Think outside the box,” “Color outside the lines” and “Push the envelope,” but if you do you had better be sure the box-lines-envelope needs new thinking-coloring-pushing. Otherwise you end up with an experience much like one subliminally broadcast by Microsoft in a 1990s-vintage television advertising campaign for the Windows operating system. Sublime choral music played in the background of the ad as an unseen computer user surfed the Internet using Microsoft’s Internet Explorer. The commercial closed with the slogan, “Where do you want to go today?” and a final, furious blast of music. It was a very cool effect, until you dug deeper.
As it turns out, the background music chosen by Microsoft’s ad agency was the “Dies Irae” of Mozart’s Requiem Mass. The words of the final blast of music which accompanied the Microsoft slogan, “Where do you want to go today?”, are actually the Latin words, “confutatis maledictis, flammis acribus addictis….”, which in English means, “When the damned are confounded, and consigned to sharp flames…”, which describes exactly where I was when my computer crashed!
Second, once I let the frustration of losing the machine and its data go, erasing that multi-gigabyte hard drive and starting over from scratch became a rather liberating experience. Some of the programs and data on that drive had been stored for a long time, taking up space in my computer life, but seldom accessed or used. Some of the data was articles downloaded for future reference, but just as easily found elsewhere on the Internet. Some of it was just junk. As I restored programs and data, I had the opportunity to reassess whether I really needed it or not before wasting my life copying it to the drive. A few projects that had been “in progress” for some time, I said goodbye to permanently. The experience reminded me of the importance of simplicity in the “real” world. Occasionally, we all need to reassess the commitments we make of time, energy and financial resources, the compulsion to hang on to “stuff” that someone else could use and the junk we accumulate. My goal now is to keep only that which is important or significant to my life and God’s desires for me.
Third, I was reminded that the most important “Rule” for my life is that by which my life can be measured with significance. The ancient books that were gathered to make up our Bible are called the “canon.” The word “canon” comes from both Latin and Greek words meaning “rule” or “measuring stick.” If you lived in a monastery, whether in medieval or modern times, you would live under the “rule” or “canon” of norms and teachings for behavior and belief of that particular community. You would “measure” your life against the “rule” of the community. In the same way, we can measure our lives against the “canon” or “rule” of the Bible, which itself reflects the matchless image of Jesus Christ, the One to whom we owe faithful obedience, the One who is the true Rule of grace, peace and our salvation.
Yours in Christ,
bg
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January 19, 2007
Light Reading/How to Pray for Those Who Are Sick
During the long season of illness and disruption to “life as usual” that became the norm at our Connecticut house for several years, we were often sustained by the many friends in Christ who were wonderfully affirming in offering prayers and best wishes for recovery, strength and God’s presence in our lives. From time-to-time, someone would ask for specific ways or instructions for their praying. Occasionally, a brave (and honest) pilgrim-in-faith would express discouragement that it seemed to take so long for God to answer some prayers as we would want God to—a thought that crosses even the minds and hearts of preachers. That, too, prompted questions regarding the what, who and how of prayer.
When someone is sick, should we pray? (Yes.) Should we pray for miracles? (Perhaps.) Should we pray for doctors and medical professionals, who may or may not be Christians? (Certainly.) Should we let God know our frustrations in waiting for God to act? (Absolutely. If you need a “warm up” on that, just read the Psalms.) Those are good questions—and just the beginning of the list of questions, too—on how we should pray.
On June 15, 2000, Dr. James Montgomery Boice, pastor of the 10th Avenue Presbyterian Church, in Philadelphia, PA, died in his sleep, only eight weeks after learning he had an aggressive form of liver cancer. On May 7, as he called the 10th Avenue congregation to worship, he shared with them an elegant, honest and hopeful statement of his faith, including the excerpt below on prayer for those who are ill. Most of us, in our times of illness, even chronic illness, are a long way from the crisis that Dr. Boice faced. Still, we can find counsel, strength and direction in his words, spoken from the midst of the crisis of life and death:
“A number of you have asked what you can do, and it strikes me that what you can do, you are doing. This is a good congregation, and you do the right things. You are praying certainly, and I’ve been assured of that by many people. And I know of many meetings that have been going on. A relevant question, I guess, when you pray is: pray for what?
“Should you pray for a miracle? Well, you’re free to do that, of course. My general impression is that the God who is able to do miracles—and He certainly can—is also able to keep you from getting the problem in the first place. So, although miracles do happen, they’re rare by definition. A miracle has to be an unusual thing.
“I think it’s far more profitable to pray for wisdom for the doctors. Doctors have a great deal of experience, of course, in their expertise, but they’re not omniscient—they do make mistakes. And then, also, [pray] for the effectiveness of the treatment. Sometimes it does very well and sometimes not so well, and that’s certainly a legitimate thing to pray for.
“Above all, I would say, pray for the glory of God. If you think of God glorifying Himself in history and you say: Where in all of history has God most glorified Himself? He did it at the cross of Jesus Christ, and it wasn’t by delivering Jesus from the cross, though He could have. Jesus said, ‘Don’t you think I could call down from my Father ten legions of angels for my defense?’ But He didn’t do that. And yet that is where God is most glorified...”
This pastor’s words reflect his life-long belief in the sovereignty of God, not only in the grand, sweeping events of history, but in the personal histories of every person, all beloved—one-by-one—by God. To believe this way is not to give in to fatalism, but to abandon ourselves to hope—not optimism, but Christian hope, based on the initiative of God, who is “making all things new.” Perhaps that will point us to the place we should pray toward with priority: that God would strengthen us, through the Holy Spirit, to trust God more, to accept the struggles as well as the glory that we might live in hope, to the glory of God.
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Light Reading/A Church for Sinners
One of my early struggles in ministry was to accept people as “sinners.” Being involved in the church was great as long as I didn’t have to deal with people who were “sinners.” God’s process took a while, but I finally realized I was “one,” too. What a dose of humility, that was.
I think my struggle was more a reaction to preachers whose preaching was preoccupied more with sin than with grace. Being a sinner just sounded so awful. Who would want to think about sin? In ministry over the years, I have found many people obsessed with their sin and its results, with some paralyzed by it. They have a hard time believing God wants to set them free from it.
In Never Alone, author and priest Joseph Girzone admonishes us to take responsibility for our sin but not to brood over it. Girzone challenges us to get past our preoccupation with our sin, a preoccupation that is self-centered, and remember that “the thrust of our spiritual life should not be sin-oriented or Satan-oriented: it should be God-oriented.”
I do not intend to imply that sin is not serious or that we should not struggle with sin or should not confess our sin. We should. We should resist any temptation that disfigures, damages or mars the image of God within us and in others, remembering the purpose of our lives is relationship with God, not any other thing, idea, person, failing or success that would rob God's rightful place in our lives. If we are to be preoccupied with anything, we should be wholly preoccupied with God.
In prayerful preoccupation with God, we can fall in love with God who loves us and makes us holy. Only God can forgive sin. We cannot do it ourselves. All we can do is to accept the forgiveness that is the grace-gift of God. Perhaps that is why Jesus, whose best friends in the Bible were “sinners,” keeps telling them and us to rest in the arms of God rather than to punish ourselves obsessively for human failures. Spend your lives pursuing God, not guilt. Paul says “consider yourselves dead to sin” for Christ comes to live in us because God loves us.
The very Christ who died for us “while we were yet sinners.”
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Light Reading/The Key Question in a Marriage: Observations from 28 (Almost) Years of Marriage and Ministry
This June 3 will make it twenty-eight years since saying, “I do,” “I will” and “I promise” to my wife, companion and partner, Angela. I know she could have done better but, thank God, she said, “I do,” too. I know I am better off in every way because of her.
The first “June 3” was a Saturday night in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, with family and several hundred friends gathered in the Chapel of the Baptist Student Center at Louisiana State University. I remember it rained during the day, adding to the humidity, never a good thing for carefully dressed wedding parties. Must have been in the afternoon, though, for I played tennis that morning with a friend. Who was nervous? Call it ignorance on my part, and loads of it. Good thing no one told us that marriage would be the hardest task we would say “Yes” to in our lives. It’s harder, even, than parenting, I think. Get the marriage right and the parenting has a much better chance of success. (Even successful marriages can struggle mightily with parenting: children have their own ideas and personalities to add to that mix.)
The “jury’s still out” on how the next twenty-eight, or so, years will play, but I’ve learned a lot from the first set, both in marriage and in ministry to others, in their marriages. I’ve officiated many and seen some fail. I’ve sat with, listened to, counseled, encouraged, admonished and prayed with many couples, some of whom should never have been married in the first place. I’ve had the graceful experience of being with couples who truly reflected God’s gentle, loving spirit.
Here are a few gleanings for the “for what it’s worth” department.
1. Again, committing yourself to marriage is the hardest, most challenging commitment you will make in your life. If God sends children your way, you’ll face another set of challenges. Those challenges, like every other, at our best, can be met with strength if the marriage is strong. Ask the single parents—and functionally single parents you know—if they agree. Do not be surprised at the answer.
2. For marriage to work, you have to learn to say those three little words: “I was wrong.” You may not think you are, but every story has two sides and most disagreements have roots not in what you are being disagreeable about but in your own, or your spouse’s, unidentified, misinterpreted or misunderstood needs. (Listening, to your spouse and your soul, is more important than talking, giving advice or being “right.”)
3. For marriage to work, you have to spend time with each other—and not spend time with each other. The time spent with each other—I confess I am not good at this—must be planned, intentional and honest. The time not spent with each other must be that which affirms the separate identities, gifts, callings and needs each person has from God that helps the person grow spiritually and emotionally. The end goal of time apart is not, necessarily, to improve the marriage, but that will, in most cases, be the result.
4. Constant stress can break the best marriage. Family conflicts, money problems, health crises, faith struggles, job changes, geographical relocations, unresolved personal issues, personality differences, grieving and—that’s right—financial success can strain a marriage. This may be where the church of the Lord Jesus can help most by offering support, hugs, encouragement and—if small children are in the stressed-to-the-max family—offering to take the children for a weekend so the couple can have a respite and retreat.
5. If you break your vows—even the smallest, least significant in your eyes—you may never be able to put the pieces of the relationship together again. I’ve seen forgiveness, healing, salvation and therapy do tremendous good, but the task of healing hurt and restoring trust is huge and will take a long, long, long time. Avoid the task; keep your promises.
6. It’s always better to marry someone who shares your faith and values than someone who you think makes you look better, richer, smarter, gets you out of your parents’ house and control or some other soon-to-be regret.
7. No marriage is perfect. All marriages involve work. Many failed marriages could have been saved with patience, forbearance and forgiveness. Few marriages work when one or both spouses marry not thinking it’s for life. Many marriages will be called “success” only in retrospect, when the couple looks back and sees all they have negotiated, accomplished or survived over the years and realized they did it all—together.
8. Marriages usually fail emotionally and spiritually long before they fail legally. When a marriage fails, a death has occurred and grieving is necessary for healing. Here’s another place the church of the Lord Jesus could be a balm.
9. It’s nobody’s business what goes on in your house. If the marriage is bad, deal with it together, seeking appropriate emotional, spiritual and—in the last resort—legal counsel. Almost every marriage I know goes through bad times and tough cycles. Almost every marriage I know that weathers the bad and the tough makes it to times of peace and caring.
10. The key question to ask in a marriage—especially before the wedding—may be not who will you or did you marry but what will you or did you marry? Believe it or not, you are marrying into a family system. That family system has practices, traditions, secrets, gifts and dysfunctions all its own. You and your spouse, or spouse-to-be, will form a unique bond, but the family systems, of both of you, with its issues and challenges, will always be near intrusion into the life you seek to build together.
Here’s one more, for good measure. Remember that spirituality and marriage are inseparable. God’s desires and designs for marriage, God’s place in the marriage, the way you handle disagreements about God, the way you feel about God when life is good and when life is very (very) tough and God seems to be on vacation: all factor into the ultimate meaning you will find in a marriage.
Praying toward the next twenty-eight and more,
bg
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Light Reading/What Difference the Cross
I wanted to write on prayer today but I kept coming back to thoughts of cherished friendships past and of new friendships now forming. Since signing on to the world of e-mail, Angie and I hear regularly from a old friends from college days, friends with whom we shared so much growing up in such a short and compressed time and who are part of my foundational memory of what it means to be a Christian. Bill is a physician serving in public health in Florida now. Sherlyn lives in Virginia with her husband and family. She went to high school in New Canaan, CT, one of the towns "next door" to our old home in Wilton, and made her way after graduation to LSU. She and her husband met at seminary and both make a difference to the churches with whom they work. Gail spent several years as a missionary in the Middle East working with people displaced geographically and spiritually. Joel has three sons and teaches high school in Louisiana. Kitty has been a missionary living off the coast of Africa. Dan returned a few years ago from missionary service in Japan and teaches at a Baptist college in Tennessee. Jeb is an artist and a builder in Louisiana. Robin, his wife, has a thriving practice as a psychotherapist and board certified social worker counseling adolescents and families. She was the best counselor to whom I have ever made referrals as a minister. Claude lives in Louisville where his practice as a psychiatric social worker is busy and well respected. Keith practices medicine as a missionary near China. Michael has worked with hospice in Cincinnati as a bereavement counselor. Don is a district attorney. Ken is an architect and a first-class deacon in his home church.
It’s good to see how many of our friends are working with people, living out their understanding and commitment to the values of Jesus. I think all of them would credit Frank, Angie’s dad and our campus minister at LSU, with some of where they are in the world. Frank lived the cross of Jesus transparently in his life. His energy and smile came from an inner relationship with the Christ who loves us enough to suffer with us and for us that we might know God. Frank’s relationship with God in Christ transcended his own challenges in growing up in the world. Were it not for Parkinson’s disease robbing his mind, I think Frank would be smiling to see where so many of his former students have ended up. I think when he finds himself in God’s healing embrace in fullness, he’ll be beaming.
The Apostle Paul wrote to the Galatians: I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me; and the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (2:20)
Try saying that every day when you arise from your bed, and as you go through your day. Pray it. Sing it. Memorize it. Recite it. Meditate on it. Write it on a piece of paper and carry it in your pocket or purse. Carry it in your heart. Live into it. Live like you believe it. Believe it.
See what difference the cross makes.
Robert W. Guffey, Jr.
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Light Reading/The World We Live In
Thomas Thangaraj is a native and citizen of India. He is also retiring soon, after distinguished service as Associate Professor of World Christianity, in the Candler School of Theology at Emory University, in Atlanta. Having grown up as a member of India’s tiny (<3%) Christian minority lends authority to his special insights and gifting to help Christians learn to communicate to those of other world faiths, which he does in his teaching and in his books. Being among the minority living in a majoritarian culture calls forth the creative within you as you try to maintain your identity as a person of faith, let alone try to share your faith. The integrity of love in action becomes the greatest witness.
As North American Christians, we do not usually think of ourselves as the “minority” in the world as what we see and experience in our day-to-day contexts tends to limit, if not distort, our vision. Professor Thangaraj points out, as referenced in a recent issue of “The Christian Century,” that in a “global village of 1,000 persons”:
300 would be Christians (with 183 Catholics, 84 Protestants, 33 Orthodox)
210 would be of no religion or confessed atheists
175 would be Muslims
128 would be Hindus
55 would be Buddhists
47 would be Animists
85 would be all the other religious groups (including about 2 who would be Jews)
Reflecting on facts like this can help sensitize us:
(1) to the depth of the challenge of reaching the world for Christ in Christ-like ways;
(2) to appreciate the work of Christians who reach out across cultures in ways that honor the human person who is not a Christian, yet who represent with integrity to that person the care and compassion of Christ;
(3) to our need to understand better the faith practices of our world; and,
(4) to the humbling reality that our words mean little to a world in need of Christ, unless our actions are indeed Christ-like and based on authentic relationships with others.
In a recent issue of the “Emory Report,” Thangaraj says, within the context of his native land, “My name is Thomas. When I tell people my name, I don’t have to tell them I’m a Christian. Nobody else would have a name Thomas, only Christians, so that’s conspicuous. Your religious allegiance—you can’t escape it. You live with the consciousness of it all the time.”
Thomas Thangaraj is known by his name. So should all Christians be, known by their name that is. In a global village—coming more and more to North America—embodying the Name of the compassionate, inclusive, reconciling One who is Love for all human beings will be the greatest witness. That some in our world hear the name “Christian” and think of narrow-mindedness, divisiveness, anger and judgmentalism makes this an urgent task. Pray the Lord blesses (and burdens) us to live with the consciousness of the world gathering around us the immediate need, as Christians, to up to our Name.
Grace and peace,
BG