For reasons unknown to me, my wife really likes McDonalds. It may go back to our very first time out which, as I recall, wasn’t actually a date. Marsha moved out to my little school her junior year and I think we were doing something for school. Being the extraordinary gentleman that I am, I decided to treat her to a fine meal. However, the only meal I could afford was McDonalds. That was back when McDonalds ran the commercial that said you could get a complete meal and still get change back from your dollar. Which was true. A hamburger, small fry and medium drink cost .98. So, our lovely meal cost $1.96. This was also back when a guy always took a car to pick up a date. Not me. That evening I took the old farm truck, and for a very good reason. It had gas in it. We were in a hurry and I didn’t want to waste time going in and eating, so I parked the truck and left her in that smelly old truck and went inside to get our food. This was also back in the day before drive-thrus. I was very romantic. Then again, it wasn’t really a date. If it had been a date I would have swept the truck out and maybe even would have taken the stringer of fish from behind the seat.

          Anyway, Marsha was out this week looking for something to photograph and decided she would run through McDonalds. She does this often if I am not with her. After scanning the Drive-thru menu for 10 minutes (I don’t know that she did that, but I do know Marsha) she then ordered what she has ordered for at least 44 years. Hamburger, small fries and a drink. Only the drink ever varies. Now, Marsha loves McDonalds but she dislikes the stuff they put on everything. She will not eat a dill pickle (even if you take it off it leaves the dill juice behind). She doesn’t like diced onions (sliced onions are fine, diced are gross). And there is something else she doesn’t like, but I can’t remember it now. She used to go through the list of things she didn’t want, but for the last 20 years or so she has just said “One hamburger, catsup only, small fries and drink.” When she made this order on this particular day, she watched it come up on the screen. Exactly what she ordered. She pulled up with great anticipation over her wonderful meal, got her bag and drink and hit the road.

          My wife eats her fries first. Always. When she is driving she will have her stereo cranked, her speed gradually increases and she is bopping to her music. By the time she has eaten all her fries she has annoyed a lot of other drivers and she is a long way from the McDonalds. On this particular day, she reached into the bag to get the hamburger after she had consumed the last fry. When she pulled it out she was concerned at its light weight. She opened the paper, took the sandwich and lifted the bun. (All this while driving at a high rate of speed and listening to her music at a volume that would make my ears bleed.) All that was on the bun was catsup. No meat. Whoever prepared her meal read the ‘one hamburger, catsup only, small fries and drink’ and took that to mean the customer wanted a bun with only catsup on it, even though it said hamburger. By this time, after eating her fries, she was probably five counties over, so she didn’t go back. Instead, when I got home that evening, I got to hear the whole story. Marsha was not a happy person. Her final words were, “And one day these kids will be running the country!”

          Which is true, but probably not that kid. That kid will be flipping burgers for a long time, somewhere. It does, however, illustrate a vital truth. If something doesn’t mean anything to someone, they will do a poor job. This is true in everything. In our lives it is immediately true in the work place, this is true in school, this is true in family and this is true in church. How do we fix it? We, the Moms and Dads and Grandparents and just concerned adults, need to show our kids just how important these things are to us. We don’t have to preach at them. We need to show it with our lives. If we take our jobs seriously, they will be more apt to do the same. If we gripe and complain, they will, too. If we show an interest in their school, they will show more of an interest. If we work at making family something special, they will work at it, too. If we take our faith and our church seriously, letting nothing come between us and our Lord and our service to Him, they will, also.

          Somebody let that McDonalds worker down. Somebody failed to impress upon that worker that they had to think and not always be told what to do. Don’t be letting the kids around you down.

          Blessings.

          Sunday night before Bible study, Mary Earle (That would be Mary from “Mary’s Moments” fame) handed me a comic she had cut from the news paper. The author is Garry Trudeau and the comic is called ‘Doonesbury’ after one of the main characters. Trudeau is a New England liberal, yet he can be quite funny. I quit reading ‘Doonesbury’ years ago, and Mary reads him rarely, but she came across this one and shared it with me.

It is just a comic. Most would read it and chuckle. But the comic itself is indicative of two very odd trends in Christianity. The first has been around for a long time, the second is subtler and harder to see. Trudeau is not a religious man by any means, but here he sheds light on a dark patch of Christianity.

 A pastor stands before his congregation on Sunday morning. As I recall, this is a Presbyterian church, but it has been a long time for me. Regardless, the pastor addresses the people; One final announcement from the Board of Elders. There has been some confusion among Evangelicals as to what constitutes sin in the eyes of the church. So, to clarify, we now condone the following conduct: Lewdness, vulgarity, profanity, adultery and sexual assault. Exemptions to Christian values also include greed, bullying, conspiring, boasting, lying, cheating, sloth, envy, wrath, gluttony and pride. Others will be announced. Lastly, we’re willing to overlook Biblical illiteracy, church non-attendance and no credible sign of faith. The last panel shows the people leaving the church and thanking the pastor for the new attitude.

The first thing we see here is the relaxed attitude toward sin that is evident in Christianity today. Indeed, it has been so for a very long time and getting worse by the year. Denominations and churches have decided that if they condemn sin then people will become angry and they will cease to attend church. We must be careful not to offend. In the text of the comic we have sins that are now allowed. Sexual sins and corrupted language are OK now. If you found out that I, as a pastor, was having an affair, you would likely be upset. But, would it shatter the church as it would have thirty years ago? No. The excuse would be, “Well, he is just human.” Which is true. But Christians have a higher cause to live up to than the rest of the world, and pastors have a higher cause yet. As we move along and sin becomes less and less wrong, what is to keep us from sinning? Where is the problem? I know of a pastor who had that affair. Everyone in the church knew about it. His wife divorced him. He married his mistress and never skipped a beat as being the pastor of the church. In times past, if I lost my composure in the pulpit and went into gutter language, I would have been fired before I left the pulpit. Now……I might get talked too, but it would blow over. Some of you are reading this and saying, “We are just human……” It gives us no right to engage in sin. Not the pastor and not the parishioner.

 In addition, denominations and churches have decided that causes which do not particularly go along with traditional Christian values must now be embraced so that the church will be relevant in today’s society. Some years back, Marsha and I visited a church while we were on vacation. Morning worship. The service was taken up by a play about caring for Mother Earth. In it the phrase ‘Mother Earth gave us life’ was used several times. There is nothing wrong with being concerned about ecology. The Lord has given us the earth to take care of until He returns. But Mother Earth did not give us life, Mother Earth shouldn’t even be in a Christian’s thoughts and the morning worship service should be a time of worship, praise, adoration and focus on Father God, who is the One who gave us life. But, the argument is, we must stay relevant. If we really want to stay relevant then we need to share the Word. Sometimes sharing His Word is painful. It doesn’t mean we have to stop.

The other thing I see here is here is Garry Trudeau, this comic’s author, is a man of the world, someone who is politically a liberal and who is also probably theologically liberal in his thinking, poking fun at the spineless Christian element. In an effort to be contemporary and relevant, Christianity has lost the respect of the world. Jello is a substance that will adapt to whatever form it is poured into. That is what the spineless Christian element is. No one looks forward to Jello. It is a quick and easy dessert. There is no substance. It wiggles and quakes. It is sickly sweet. No one ever remembers the joy of Jello because there is nothing special about Jello. About the only satisfying thing about Jello is that you can play with it while appearing to eat it. Christianity, without adherence to the Word and making Christ the ruler of your life, is pointless. By trying to make Christianity pleasant to the world, it has been made the butt of jokes, something unappetizing.

Are we going to stand for Christ? Are we going to take our heritage back? Are we going to make the stand we need to make against sin? There is no time like the present to stand up and be counted. The world has no use for the wishy-washy Christian, and neither does Christ.

          Memory is a funny thing. Not funny ha-ha, either. Just funny weird. I have fourteen personal passwords in my mind that pop up whenever I want them. E-mail accounts, computer security passwords, bank accounts and the like are all right there. Instant access. And I do not make all of them the same or even similar.  Oddly, I know the manufacture numbers to all the parts of a VW Beetle frontend, 1970-1973. I last worked on one thirty five years ago, but they are still stuck up there. On the other hand, I have done our income taxes for the last forty two years. Marsha’s social security number has never changed. Yet, I cannot remember that thing at all. I have to write it down before I begin so I can get it when I need it. The other day I was asked for my phone number, which I gave with confidence. After I got back to my car I thought that the number I gave didn’t sound quite right. I looked up my own number and saw that the area code was right, the next three numbers were right, but the last four digits were actually the last four digits of Marsha’s social security number. How does that happen? Marsha, on the other hand, also has passwords. To make it easy, she keeps them all pretty much the same. If you have one of her passwords you are pretty much home free. And she has to write that one down and hide it in her wallet. But, she can rattle off my social security number, she remembers all the family birthdays and she can give you the recipe for what we had for dinner on July 16, 1989. “Let’s see. That was a Sunday, so it would have been a slow cooker meal, middle of the summer, you had a softball game…….Oh, yes, it was a chicken stew. Kind of simple, but I used….”

          Sometimes the things you remember strike you odd later. We had a young man named Kevin on our church softball team. I was playing center field and he was playing left field. The other team had three in a row up who couldn’t hit the ball out of the infield, so Kevin came over to me to tell me his girlfriend was pregnant. I remember every word of that conversation like it was yesterday. I also remember standing there talking when one of the other team’s really poor hitters drove one over my head.

          And, I remember sitting by a hospital bed in 1988, holding the hand of a dear, sweet elderly lady as she was slipping away. She was telling me what she wanted in her funeral. Mostly, the music. Her daughter was sitting on the other side of her writing it all down amidst her own tears. The dear lady looked at me and said, “Oh, and I want you to sing my favorite song for the service!” I smiled at her, but cringed inside. Singing is not a strong point. “What song is that?” “Safe in the Arms of Jesus!” I started out my ministry career as a music and youth guy. The youth part worked out, but the music part—not so much. Still, I had worked at it and I knew almost all the songs in the hymn book. But I had never heard of that song. “OK,” I told her. What do you say to someone who was going to be gone in half an hour? You agree and then do the best you can.

          She passed in less than half an hour. My hope was that Marsha would know the song and would offer to sing it with me. That would work.

Marsha remembers songs like no one I know. She hadn’t heard it, either. I finally found it in an old, battered hymn book under a shelf at the church. I looked at the music and thought, “Is this a joke?” The musical score was dull with no imagination. The words were written by Fanny Crosby, one of the greatest of America’s song writers, and as I read them I was moved. Fanny was blind from the age of 18 months. She often said, “The next face I see will be that of Jesus!” A woman completely devoted to Christ, she wrote some of the best lyrics ever. Songs like "All the Way My Savior Leads Me," "Blessed Assurance," "Eye Hath Not Seen," “He Hideth My Soul," "More Like Jesus," "I Am Thine, O Lord,” "Jesus Is Tenderly Calling You Home,” “Near the Cross," "Pass Me Not, O Gentle Savior," "Praise Him! Praise Him! Jesus, Our Blessed Redeemer!," "Redeemed, How I Love to Proclaim It!" and so many more. But, I had never heard “Safe in the Arms of Jesus.”

Marsha looked at the music and told me that since I had promised, I had to sing it. I showed it to our organist, who was in her 60s. “I never, ever liked this song.” But she played it flawlessly. Deep sigh. So, I practiced with her. Somehow, when sung, the words and music kind of flowed. The words moved me greatly, especially since I had sat with this dying lady as she slipped away into the arms of Jesus.

          These are the words, written in the poetic style of the 19^th century, but written from the heart of a woman whose fondest desire was to see the face of her Savior and to rest in His arms.

Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe on His gentle breast;
There by His love o’ershaded,
Sweetly my soul shall rest.
Hark! ’tis the voice of angels
Borne in a song to me,
Over the fields of glory,
Over the jasper sea. Remember, this is a woman who had never seen the shade or fields or the jasper sea, but she knew that if it was God’s creation, it was truly amazing.

Refrain:
Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe on His gentle breast;
There by His love o’ershaded,
Sweetly my soul shall rest.

Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe from corroding care,
Safe from the world’s temptations;
Sin cannot harm me there.
Free from the blight of sorrow,
Free from my doubts and fears;
Only a few more trials,
Only a few more tears! Her life was not ideal. Blind at a time when that meant she was pitied and shut away, Fanny flourished. Married, raised a family, lived a life. But one that was very hard.

Jesus, my heart’s dear Refuge,
Jesus has died for me;
Firm on the Rock of Ages
Ever my trust shall be.
Here let me wait with patience,
Wait till the night is o’er;
Wait till I see the morning
Break on the golden shore. How much she wanted to see that morning in heaven! She likened it to a sunrise on the sea shore, which she had never seen, either, but it was God’s and that was enough.

          Memory is a funny thing. However, I have always wondered what it would have been like to have Fanny Crosby’s perspective. No memory of the beauty of Creation, but the wonderful anticipation of seeing it all. Kind of reverse memory.

          I sang that song at that funeral. It is the only time I ever sang it and I have never heard it in song since. But, oh my, I have read the words many times! To me it is the 19^th century equivalent of the present praise song “I Can Only Imagine.” I think what the words must have meant to our lady who passed and I think of what the words were like for Fanny Crosby when she saw the face of Jesus and stepped into His arms.

          Be safe. Be blessed.

     

          I have always hated it when I start a sentence with, “Well, I remember when….” That’s the kind of thing ‘old’ people say before they start going on about something they don’t like now and they begin to compare it to something that was good about the old days. I don’t want to be that person who starts going on as younger people start rolling their eyes. I want to be up on things, I want to know what is going on, I want to be able to relate. When I worked with Youth I would sit and watch an hour of MTV every week, just so I knew what the kids were thinking. I would grit my teeth, grip the arms of my chair and keep looking at my watch, but I wanted to be relevant.

          Having said that, let me say……..

          Well, I remember when…headlines were actually news.

          After my morning prayer time I turn on the computer and read the Word for a bit. I used to open my Bible and read the Word, but now I need bigger print. So, I read and then I check the headlines as they appear on the computer screen and then I have my dessert; which are the morning comics. My problem comes when I read the headlines. The headlines are the important news, right? The stuff that matters. The very things that drives our lives. Except not anymore. I realize that the internet news is geared for young adults. That is their demographic. But if what I see in the internet headlines is an indication of what young adults today consider important, it fully explains why young adults were filled with rage when Hillary Clinton lost and were weeping and rushing to find their ‘safe places.’

          It is no wonder we have so many weak minded young people. Young people who have no concept of what is important.

          This morning’s headlines;

So What’s the Deal with that Moviepass Plan?

Cops found her zip-tied in a frigid dumpster, unable to talk. Then the truth came out, Colorado cops say

Biblical prophecy claims the Rapture is coming April 23, numerologist says

Father, daughter who had child together dead in murder-suicide; Child also found dead

Killer clown investigators used DNA from hair samples to make cold case arrest

Wedding venue is 'mortified' after accidentally sending bride an email calling her a 'cow'

Arcade fame turns to infamy as Billy Mitchell's record-setting Donkey Kong score is invalidated

Mom shamed for letting her kid eat a peanut butter sandwich while shopping at Target: 'It's really awful you would do this’

Apparently high-definition vinyl is coming next year

Mommy Bear Pleads To Man To Save Her Drowning Cubs

          I left out the stories condemning the President for his actions. Just too silly. I also left in the grammatical errors.

          Anyway, this nonsense is what passes for news. Evidently, the Moviepass Plan is so important it deserved top billing. Then, the story of the woman found bound in a Colorado dumpster. I didn’t read it because it happened in Colorado and because bondage does not stimulate me. The Rapture article was just there to poke fun at Christianity. The Biblical scholar in question is David Meade. Last year he said he had figured out that the Rapture was going to be on a particular date in 2017, and he was, of course, wrong. In this article they quote Mr. Meade as saying that on April 23 the sun and moon will be in Virgo, as will Jupiter, which represents the Messiah. Totally designed to mock the Word of God. The father/daughter/child story features a love triangle aspect which apparently makes it news worthy. Killer clown stories are always good for a read. (When did clowns become scary? When I grew up, they were entertaining. I guess we were messed up kids.) The story of the wedding venue accidently calling a young woman a cow is sad, but is it headline news? Then, poor Billy Mitchell’s Donkey Kong score being invalidated is tragic. Horrible, even. It seems Mitchell has been setting records in Donkey Kong for 28 years. Now he is setting records in Pac-Man. I never heard of any of this because, well, while Mitchell was setting his records the Berlin Wall came down, communism ended in Russia, 9/11 happened, we have gone to war, the Cubs won a World Series……real news has happened. What about the poor mom who was shamed for letting her child eat a peanut butter sandwich in Target? Is anything worse than that? Actually, yes. She could have let her little girl use gender neutral restrooms in Target. That would have been poor parenting. High definition vinyl is coming soon, which will allow us to listen to music even better than we do now. Cool, I guess. And last, but not least, the mommy bear who pleaded with the man to save her drowning cubs. There is a video. Intended to bring the tears.

          How did this stuff become news and how is it national news? Not one single story on the ongoing war on terrorism. This morning I saw no articles on the conflict in Syria. I am grateful that on this day there was nothing about the Kardashians, especially with Khloe having her daughter this week. Good night.

          Folks, we are living in an era that is filled with pointless trivia that passes for news, the idea that if you don’t like something you go and cry and hide and the concept that if you whine loud enough you can get what you want. What is fair is fair, so long as you agree with what I say.

          Is there any hope for such a corrupted and polluted America?

          Of course there is. Jesus Christ. The hope and the joy of Christ will only get out there if we tell the story. The media will mock it. Young people are not interested. The world is against us. So what? The Apostle Paul came to Christ at a time when you could die for your faith. There was no way to get the message around the world instantaneously. There were no printed Bibles. Just handwritten Scripture and the New Testament was in the process of being written. Yet, Paul changed the world! How can we become discouraged?

          The garbage that passes for news is important to the younger audience. Why aren’t we giving them something else? When was the last time you talked to someone about Jesus? Not, when was the last time you talked about your church or invited someone to church, but when was the last time you shared the Gospel of Christ, the saving Gospel and the Gospel of hope?

          Just askin.’

          This week has been a struggle. All during this vicious cold and flu season that has sidelined so many, Marsha and I have managed to avoid the worst of it all. A day or two of the sniffles here and there and we were past it. But then, about a week and a half before Easter Marsha ran into a full blown cold. With the choir singing for Easter, this was a big deal. By Easter, though, the debilitating part of the cold was behind her and everything worked out. However, by Easter evening I was getting sick. Which was OK. I got what I had so deeply craved for two years; a complete Easter season with the congregation of the Yoke. Don’t misunderstand. There has been very little about this week that I have enjoyed. But, when I look back at it I will only remember the blessed joy of celebrating the Resurrection of our Lord with the people I most care about.

          As rotten as I have felt this week, it is still better than a year ago. April 6, 2017, exactly one year ago today, our household got up really early. My wife and I got into one car and my son and his wife got into another and we drove, before sunrise, to Fort Wayne. Marsha chatted the whole way, but she always talks when she is nervous. Well, she talks when she is happy, when she is sad, when she is angry……..when she is pensive she is quiet, and that, being fairly rare, makes me nervous. But a year ago today she kept up a stream of conversation. We drove to Lutheran Hospital where I was taken and prepared for surgery. A good number of people came from the church to sit with Marsha and Adam and Kim, for which I will always be grateful. Meanwhile, a surgical team opened my chest, my left leg and three places on my torso and preceded to do a triple by-pass.

          There are some things about the whole ordeal that I am not happy about. One, even though we told them at the hospital that I had an allergy to tape, they still put lots of tape on my leg, even though there was a way to avoid tape. The skin on my leg was so affected that it still gives me problems. They told me later that lots of people claim tape allergies but are fine. They figured I was one of those. Yeah. Two, even though my diabetes was under control, they decided to put me on insulin. This resulted in two passing out episodes, one while I was driving, and two ambulance rides. None of that was enjoyable, especially since my insurance refused to pay for either ambulance. There were other things, but it is past now. Thinking about it is counter productive.

          What is important is that I was alive to enjoy Resurrection this year. By the time of my surgery last year I had gone down to the point that walking into Lutheran from the parking lot required a rest stop. I seriously believe I would be dead by now if not for the surgery. Everything during this last year has been extra special. A couple of months after surgery Marsha and I went on a boat ride on Lake Webster. Before the surgery I would have done that because Marsha wanted to do that. But this time it was really neat! Going to the drive-in took on a whole new meaning. VBS was a joy! Watching a baseball game was more fun than ever. I can drive to Fort Wayne or Indianapolis or back to Ohio with a stupid grin on my face when before I really didn’t enjoy the drive. I got to serve a session with KAIROS and help make a difference. For a year now I haven’t had to reach into my pocket with a trembling hand to fish out the little bottle of nitroglycerin tablets because my chest like it was going to explode or cave in or come apart, depending on the episode. I was able, this year, to be in a position to try and get Carla down off a table during a Board meeting. (Just so you know, what goes on in a Board meeting, stays in a Board meeting.) I have got to have another year pastoring a church. As times goes along and my energy continues to return, I intend to get better at pastoring, too. Living without pain, without shortness of breath, with being able to make plans is well worth the surgery.

          So, I have had a cold this week. I am sniffling right now and I will probably go home in a bit and lay down. I am certainly not going to visit anyone today and share this current misfortune. But a year ago today I didn’t know what was going to happen. A cold today? No big deal.

          Blessings to all.