In 1996, then First Lady Hillary Clinton visited Bosnia, which was a war zone at the time. There was no reason for her to be there other than political. Her presence only made life more difficult for US military personnel in country because they had to ensure the safety of a high profile civilian who had no business being there. In 2008, during Mrs. Clinton’s campaign for president against Barack Obama during the Democratic primary season, she claimed that on that trip she had ducked sniper fire at the airport. A CBS reporter, Sharyl Attkisson, who was part of the press team on that trip with Mrs. Clinton and was right there with her, was appalled that she would tell such a lie. There was no sniper fire. The area was secure and had been made secure by the US military at no small risk to themselves. There was video. No sniper fire.

          On May 21, 2021 (just last week) Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, of New York City, told an interviewer on the radio program Latino USA that she was in therapy because of the January 6 riot at the Capitol. She said the lawmakers were essentially at war. This young woman, who wishes to lead a revolution here in this country, was protected behind a heavy, well secured door. It was a fatal riot, resulting in five deaths. One woman died from a gunshot fired by a Capitol police officer. Two men died from heart attacks. Another woman died from a drug overdose. The last person to die was a Capitol police officer, in the line of duty. If Miss Ocasio-Cortez considers a riot something of a war, what does that make her as she cowered in a protected office? Also, there is no word as to whether she wishes to defund the Capitol police.

          Memorial Day is just a few days away. As I thought of what Memorial Day means, I thought of these two women and their military experiences.

          A friend of mine, Phil Bernier, retired from the United States Army some years ago. Another friend, Ed Wolf, retired from the United States Marine Corps a number of years ago. Both men experienced combat situations in their time in the service as the United States tends to act as the world’s police force. Both men have actually ducked sniper fire and both men have actually been in fire fights. Their opinions of Mrs. Clinton and Miss Ocasio-Cortez’s military careers is not very high. Our congregation has a number of veterans of the military and I don’t believe they have a very high opinion of these two women.

          I have a very low opinion of people who lie in order to make themselves look far grander than they are. Especially people who seek to tear down the military and the police.

          There are 155 military cemeteries in 42 states and Puerto Rico. In addition, there are many other cemeteries that have sections for military veterans. As you drive along, even before you arrive, you begin to feel a presence. Of course, it is just because you know where you are going. I guess. And then you top a hill and see it for the first time. Row after row of headstones, all alike, set in military precision. As you enter the cemetery and check in, you have an overwhelming feeling of awe and reverence. Some of the men and women lying beneath those markers died in combat. But most represent the people who survived their ordeal, came home and built our nation. Some gave the ultimate sacrifice while others were willing to do so. And then, in cemeteries all over our land, there are graves with small markers informing anyone who wishes to read; here lies someone who wore the uniform and served under the colors for you. For all of us. Even for the people who wish to cheapen the sacrifices of others. I have been in a few national cemeteries and I have been in many cemeteries where men and women have chosen to be buried with family and who yet served and I am filled with so much gratitude.

          All week I have thought about the people who seek to twist a great country into a band of weak willed, delusional people. And then, something occurred to me. When I was a boy, we farmed. While friends from school got money from paper routes and grass mowing, I often worked from daylight to dark and didn’t make a cent. I resented this ‘mistreatment.’ Finally, when I was twelve or thirteen, I confronted my father. I informed the old guy that Lincoln had freed the slaves. I got no further because I was lying on my back in a potato field. I was told by my father, who could move remarkably fast for an old guy, that I wasn’t a slave, but if I ever talked about it again I would learn about slavery first hand. Since I was already on the ground, I went back to digging potatoes. Years later, after I had grown up, I thought back to it and realized how foolish I had been.

          But the key phrase here is ‘after I had grown up.’ Before people start creating a danger scenario, they should grow up. Before someone wants to lead a revolution but who gets so scared that she needs therapy, she should grow up. Before one condemns this country and what it stands for, they should grow up and go and stand in one of those national cemeteries and hear the mournful notes of a bugle playing Taps as yet another true hero is laid to rest.

          My father was a flawed man. We all are to one degree or another. But for all his life my father carried the scars of shrapnel on his left leg from a mortar round that kill his buddy on Iwo Jima. I had my issues with my father. However, I never doubted that he was a hero. When the bugle sounded Taps in that national cemetery in North Carolina and I watched my father’s casket disappear from view, I truly felt he had finally come home.

          You who have worn the uniform of the Navy, the Army, the Air Force, the Marines and the Coast Guard….. You are heroes. You are my heroes. You are so much better than the pretenders who need to grow up be grateful.

          Thank you. Each and everyone of you. And to those of you…of us…who have lost our heroes, God bless us as we remember. 

 

          Three stories. The third one may be the best.

          The first isn’t so much a story as an update. My life-long friend, Keith Marty, is in a Cleveland Clinic affiliated hospital in Cleveland. He has pulmonary fibrosis. He can breathe but cannot process the oxygen. He is currently on 25 liters of pure oxygen which, for those of you who know, is a huge amount. They are looking into the possibility now of a lung transplant, but that is a lengthy process just to line it up and it is likely he wouldn’t survive for this to take place. Standard procedure right now is, for a critically ill patient, to have one visitor a day and it must be a family member. I was in the area (60 miles away) when they transferred him from his home on the other side of Ohio. His sister called me and told me what was going on. I was at my son’s place for his 40^th birthday. He would have taken me to the hospital (I don’t see well at night) so I called the hospital to see if I could come up and see him at the ER when they got there. No. Can I come up and sit with the family in the waiting room. No. Can I meet the ambulance and briefly speak to him as they wheel him in. No.

          So it was appearing that the next time I could see my buddy was at his funeral. But wait! Wife Gloria is someone you don’t want to mess with. She kept after them and kept after them and all of a sudden I was going to be allowed to see him on Wednesday of this week. I drove to Cleveland on Wednesday morning and got a room at a Holiday Inn in Independence, Ohio. (I could have stayed with my son or Keith’s sister, but both options took me another hour or so to the East and would have increased my driving time. Plus, my son has cats.) On Wednesday afternoon I finally got in to see him.

          He is now into his fifth week in the hospital, which includes the time he was in the hospital in the town in which he now lives. When I got there he got out of bed and transferred to a chair next to the bed and went into a struggle for air. I have seen this before in people, so I knew it would pass, but to see Keith suffering like that just put a knife in my heart. However, we talked and we laughed. After a while they took him outside and he rejoiced in being in the sun. By the time I left, after five hours, it was 7 in the evening and he was exhausted. They will probably send him home next week with Hospice. They live in Defiance, Ohio, which is two hours from where I live. There I can see him without problem.

          Keith is amazed that so many people are praying for him. He is very appreciative. When he does go home I will give his home address to anyone who wants it to send a card.

          Story number two. Cleveland has had a large exodus of people over the last few decades. People do not like to live in big, dirty cities. The population has dropped to around 400,000 people, but the metro area is around 4,000,000 people. People live outside the city but work in and around the city. To compare, Fort Wayne, Indiana has a population of 275,000 and the metro area has a combined population of 400,000 people. Cleveland has four major interstates that run through it, Fort Wayne has one. Driving through Cleveland is a rude awakening to city life. (Note; see John Eltzroth)

          I don’t mind it because I have spent a lot of time driving the city. Chicago, D.C., Miami…been there, done that and didn’t like it. Pittsburgh and Indianapolis…I just don’t want to go back. But Cleveland, as bad or nearly as bad as any of them, almost feels like home. If you are ever heading to Cleveland it will likely to be going to a hospital. They have made those accessible and they are easy to get too. By using the long way. Most of us Cleveland Race-way pros prefer the more direct, yet challenging, routes.

          Still, there have been changes, so my trusty GPS went with me. (I have named my GPS ‘Christine’ and she is the perfect travel companion.) I noticed this with Christine in Pittsburgh last year and Indianapolis any time; she gets to a point and cannot keep up. Traffic in  and out and all at high speed and all sorts of feeder roads everywhere, is more than her little micro-chip brain can handle. It was amusing in Cleveland because I knew where I am going, but in Indianapolis it nearly got her tossed out the window.

          You become a different kind of a driver in a big city as opposed to downtown Urbana. Some become fearful in the horrible traffic. In that case, you should stay home. Some become defensive drivers. In that case, you need to be defensive because you will be targeted. The best Cleveland drivers are the ones who become aggressive/defensive. Like sharks sensing blood in the water while also looking for killer whales. That’s me in Cleveland.

          Thursday morning I left my motel to head back to Indiana. Independence is on the southeast edge of Cleveland, so you can’t just point west and start out. Instead you have to wind around and head into the heart of the mayhem and then get your road out. I don’t know why, it is just the way it is. In so doing, you meet the fearful drivers and the defensive drivers. They are dangerous. Usually, though, you can pick them out. The fearful driver is in over his (or most usually, her) head. There is a lot of slowing down, speeding up, turn signaling, trying to squeeze in…desperation. In one particular place where the highway splits left and right and keeps going straight all at the same time, we were moving at 65-70 miles an hour in six packed lanes. I saw the lady trying to get over and I knew she would be trouble. Sure enough, she jerked to the right and closed her eyes and then slammed on her brakes. I saw her coming and anticipated her actions, hitting my own brakes. Our two cars came to a stop with hardly any air between my driver side door and her passenger side door. Others had sensed her actions as well, because they were streaming past us without giving a second look. She grabbed an opening in the flow and drove away, not even a glance at me.

          The others to look for are the people driving U-hauls. I hate those things. If you had a job driving a truck like a U-haul, you would have to have a CDL. But a U-haul is just someone who owns a Prius who is moving. Most of them have no clue about how to handle a loaded truck and they have loaded it with no concept about how to load a truck to achieve balance. And then, they drive in Cleveland. Just a few minutes after the near accident, there was a car in front of me and a U-haul in front of him. We both had our eyes on him. All of a sudden the U-haul slammed on his brakes. No reason. Just wham! The guy in front of me was on his brakes at practically the same moment, so he was anticipating stupid. I didn’t bother with brakes. I already knew the shoulder was empty, so I took that route and passed them. But now, as I write this, I am reminded of a group in Cleveland who made some money in a scam until they got caught. This was thirty years ago. Heavy traffic, a rental truck with an old vehicle behind and some poor sap following that. The rental would signal the vehicle following that they were going to brake, the car following would slam on their brakes and the following vehicle would slam into the back of that car (or pick-up). The rental would drive on. Lawsuits followed until it was figured out. I wonder if I was being set up. Interesting.

          Third story. After the hospital time with Keith, I headed back to my motel. Across the road from the motel was a Denny’s restaurant. I don’t know of any around here, but they are hardly a five star eatery. We used to say in Ohio, ‘you didn’t plan to go to Denny’s, you just wound up there.’ But, I always kind of liked Denny’s and so I decided to stop there and eat. In Ohio, you can dine-in, but the mask stays on until the food comes. Which means you order with you and the waitress wearing masks. There’s a lot of, ‘what?’, ‘could you say that again?’ You get the picture.

          The menu there is not extensive. Breakfast stuff and burgers, mostly. I decided what I wanted and she came by. Pleasant little thing, but that was all. “Yeah, I would like some hash browns, two slices of toast and three eggs, over easy.” Simplicity. “Sir, the eggs only come in twos and fours. We don’t do threes or fives.” Folks, it is eight o’clock at night. I have driven and then spent an emotional day. Now this pleasant little thing is telling me I cannot get three eggs. “Well, look right here. It says eggs can be a side at .60 each, so I want a side of an egg.” “I am sorry sir, but eggs come in twos or fours.” “But I don’t want four. I want three.” “She was very apologetic, but firm. “They only come in twos and fours.” I looked at the menu again. “Well, OK. I’ll have the Grand Slam.” “Very good choice, sir! Would you want sausage or bacon?” “Well, you see, I am allergic to pork, so can I substitute something?” “Certainly, sir! Just choose from the sides.” “Hmmmm. Well, they all look good. I tell you what. I’ll have the fruit bowl and an egg side.” “Very good, sir! I will put that right in!”

          So, I wound up with a tiny little bowl of a slice of strawberry and a couple of grapes, hash browns, two slices of toast, and three eggs. I miss home.

           I am going to take a break from “fear not” to address something that people have lately been asking me about. It has become something of a concern amongst our congregation over the last year or so and it is something I actually know a little bit about.

          “I know I should go to the funeral (visitation, calling, wake…whatever you call it where you live) but I just don’t know what to say!” I have been doing ministry for forty five years, and I don’t know what to say. I have talked with countless families and done countless funerals and have read dozens of books on grief and funeral etiquette. I have no idea what to say. That is because there is no set phrase, no sure-fire set of words that convey the feeling you have at that moment. We want to ease the suffering because we really do care. We want to let the grieving person know we are there for them because we care. We want to make it all better because we care. And yet, typically, we say the wrong thing.

          “Well, Pastor, that may be true for most, but I know exactly what to say.” Good for you. I am about to upset your applecart.

          As a general rule, you cannot say the wrong thing if you say nothing at all. The grieving person is standing there next to the casket, maybe their hand rests on the casket for support. You step up. The bereaved looks at you and you wrap your arms around them and whisper how sorry you are for them. That is the very best approach. You have expressed your care and concern and love. Tell them they are in your prayers. Another quick hug. Now, the bereaved may start a brief conversation, and that is fine. “Doesn’t he look good?” “Yes, they do a good job here.” Or maybe the bereaved mentions the flowers or casket. Respond. The bereaved needs, at that moment, some touch of normalcy. That is all good. But then move on. Your presence has been registered in their minds and there will be many opportunities to speak later in the days and weeks to follow.

          Which brings me to the first thing of what not to say. Never, EVER, ask how the deceased died. I understand. You want to know. But put yourself in the grief stricken person’s shoes. They are going to tell the story over and over, reliving the moment of death. Sometimes the bereaved will want to talk about it with you. That is their choice. But don’t make them open the wound again.

          Don’t stand there and gab. Rehashing old memories may help you, but at that calling or visitation it is a time waster and likely is not helping the bereaved. Hundreds of people come to these things. Waiting for you finish up helps no one.

          Then there are the phrases we say that are meant to be encouraging or, worse yet, to explain why the loved one died. “God just needed another farmer in heaven.” Or electrician or salesman or mechanic or whatever it was the deceased did for a living. Another rule of thumb: DO NOT LIE! And that is a lie. God didn’t call the wife home because He needed an alto in the angelic choir. God has all of it covered. Death just came. Don’t put the blame on God. It makes it sound as though He cannot manage His resources very well.

          Often, when it is a baby or a small child, we hear, “God needed another angel.” DO NOT LIE! And that is a lie. First, people who go to heaven do not become angels. Angels are a separate creation. Second, the grieving person feels that they need that little angel more than God does. You are not helping.

          Somebody falls from a tree stand while deer hunting. You will hear, “He died doing what he loved to do.” And…..so? Did he love the dying? Does saying that bring comfort? Maybe the husband and wife had fussed about the time spent hunting. How does, “He died doing what he loved to do,” help that grieving wife? He died doing what she didn’t want him to do.

We want to bring Jesus into the situation. “Don’t take it so hard. The Lord walks with you.” A person needs to take it hard, and for as long as they need to take it hard. It is called ‘grief’ and everyone is affected by grief differently. Yes, Jesus does walk with us, but sometimes our grief is so overwhelming we don’t feel His presence.

“God is still on the throne.” I have heard that so many times. What does that mean to someone who is dealing with white hot grief.

“Try and hold back those tears. It makes people uncomfortable.” This was spoken by a mother to her daughter, who had lost her four month old to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. The young mother got in her mother’s face and said, “It’s a funeral, Ma! People cry at funerals! If they can’t take it they can go home!” I stepped between them. ‘Ma’ was out of line.

“Always remember to give thanks in all things.” Biblically true, but while the grief is fresh and the bereaved is about to have a break down, not being helpful.

“It is for the best.” Why? OK, they were in pain or had been in a coma or had been suffering terribly in some way. But for the grieving person, the best would have been complete recovery. You are not helping.

“God knows what He is doing.” Always makes me cringe. We would always agree that God has a handle on everything, but how does that help at that awful moment? If your teenager died in a traffic accident, would “God knows what He is doing” help you?

“It could have been worse.” A pastor friend of mine sent twenty odd kids off to camp. He had a son and a daughter in the group as counselors. There was a wreck on the highway. His daughter and a camper died. His son and fifteen campers were seriously injured. He quit counting at a dozen times all the people who came through at the funeral and said, “It could have been worse.” Yes, it could have been worse, I guess. How does saying it help at that moment?

“He (or she) is in a better place.” If they were a believer in Christ, yes, they are in a better place. That does not necessarily help the grieving one, though. And what if they are not a believer? What if they have never trusted in Christ? Then you are lying. And the rule of thumb is DO NOT LIE!

“You must not question God.” Why not? David did. Moses did. Abraham did. There is nothing wrong with questioning God. We may not get an immediate answer, but we are at least talking to Him and we will get comfort.

“God doesn’t give us more than we can handle.” True enough. But there are times when it feels like it is more than we can handle. Being told we can handle it doesn’t help because WE DO NOT WANT TO HAVE TO HANDLE IT.

“Your husband will rise again.” If they are a believer, then yes, they will rise to heaven. There is a time for that assurance to be given and it is usually not at the visitation. Here is another rule of thumb. DO NOT GET ALL THEOLOGICAL WITH THEM. Leave that to the person actually preaching the funeral.

And this one has made me want to slap people. “I know just how you feel.” Maybe you went through the same loss two years earlier. That does not mean you know how they are feeling. Different people have different emotional levels. They may have loved differently. Their mental and emotional make up is different. You do not know just how they feel. When my wife’s father died, I was pastoring in Warren, Ohio and the in-laws lived in Perry, Ohio. About seventy miles apart. We both had graduated high school from Perry, so a lot of friends were there as well as a large group from our church. I was keeping an eye on Marsha and her Mom, just to make sure they were OK. “I know just how you feel” was on a lot of lips and Marsha endured it, being the brave soldier for her mother. One of the older couples from our church, Larry and Helen Stahl, came and went right to Marsha. Larry leaned down and kissed her forehead (That was Larry’s thing. We went to see him as he was dying and I bent down and kissed his forehead, and even comatose, he gave a big smile.) Helen stepped up to her. Helen had suffered all manner of loss over the years. She could have gone on and on with her suffering. But sweet, gentle Helen just reached over and adjusted a bow on Marsha’s dress and whispered, “I love you, Marsha.” My wife collapsed into Helen’s arms and wept. Not because this woman ‘knew what she was feeling,’ but because this woman loved her. That was what she needed at that moment.   

There will be weeks and months after the funeral. Casseroles can be brought by, offers to buy a cup of coffee, a craft show or a car show to go to. Opportunities to connect later and ease a grieving person’s spirit. When someone has suffered a loss, everything is a blur. Their loved one is taken away, they connect with the funeral home, dozens of phone calls have to be made. By the time that visitation begins, the grieving person has gone non-stop. Sleep has eluded them. They are at the end of their rope. Then, people start coming in and walking up to them. What does that devastated person need the most right then? Do they need some lame choice of words, or do they need a hug, an “I love you” and another hug?

Personally, I understand. We want to help because we are hurting for them. It seems like just being there is not enough. But the bereaved person is overwhelmed by people. They need contact, touch. They need love. Please do not stand out because you said the wrong thing.

Blessings.

           I am aware of the fact that most people claim to dislike the King James Version of the Bible. I am also aware that when we want to recite the Lord’s prayer or the 23rd Psalm, we want—no, that is not right—we DEMAND to have it in good old King James English. I knew a pastor in Ohio who, when she was called to a church, was told that they wanted nothing to do with the stuffy, old King James. It was the custom of that church to open each service with a congregational reciting of the Lord’s prayer. At that first service she led them in the Lord’s prayer from the New International Version, AND SHE WAS FIRED FOR MESSING WITH THEIR LORD’S PRAYER. I didn’t hear about it for a couple of weeks, but when I did hear about it, I asked the person telling me the tale (one of the Elders of that church) how they could fire her when they had told her that they didn’t want the King James. He looked at me blankly. In our subsequent conversation it came out that he did not know that the Lord’s prayer is actually Scripture! An Elder!

          The point here is that, for all of your protestations against the King James, there is just something almost regal in the language.

          For instance, in the recent series, I have used the King James because when the King James says, “fear not,” it sounds so much more comforting than “don’t be afraid.” The phrase “fear not” is not in today’s Scripture, but I will still use the King James, because it sounds so good.

          In Matthew 8, Jesus had been ministering to many, starting with Peter’s mother-in-law. Finally, He was worn out. He told the disciples that they needed to leave there and go to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. Just a note, the Sea of Galilee is a rather small, freshwater lake. Wabash County, Indiana, is six and a half times larger than Galilee. The Sea of Galilee is 64 square miles. Lake Michigan is 22,394 square miles. Jesus commanding to go to the other side was not a big deal. Once they left the shore, an exhausted Jesus fell asleep. And this is where we pick up in Matthew 8:23-27---And when He was entered into a ship, His disciples followed Him.  And, behold, there arose a great tempest in the sea, insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves: but He was asleep.  And His disciples came to Him, and awoke Him, saying, Lord, save us: we perish. And He saith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? Then He arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a great calm. But the men marveled, saying, What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey Him! Wonderful story!

          Again, the phrase “fear not” is not used. Instead, He asked a question. Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? WHY ARE WE FEARFUL? The waves are over the boat! We’re tossed around like a rubber duckie in a bathtub! We are gonna sink! They had enough faith to know He could save them, but they didn’t believe He could do it in His sleep. I am thinking He had a little smile when He asked the question. So, He stood up and calmed the sea.

          Let me share with you what has brought this line of thinking about today.

          In church on Sunday mornings, you stand and watch the Power Point on the screen. The songs and the Scriptures are there. Each individual message that comes up on the screen is called a slide. It might take as many as ten slides for one song and, usually, each verse of Scripture gets its own slide. They go by pretty quickly in the course of the service. You may, or may not, pick up on the background of each slide. I have taught myself how to superimpose that background, so that the backgrounds all have something to do with the overall message of the service. Kind of a subliminal thing, only in a good way. This week the message is out of Ezekiel, where the Lord promises showers of blessings. We have the song, Showers of Blessings. There is a joy in the idea that the heavens will open up and the blessings will flow down! How exciting!

          So, I wanted to get a picture for a background that conveyed that excitement. I looked at literally hundreds of pictures. It took me almost two hours to find a picture. I never spend that kind of time. The Lord always gives me just the image I want, but not this time. All I was getting were pictures of heavy storm clouds, gloomy days, tossing waves. This is not what I am looking for Lord! Give me happy showers of blessing!!!

          And then it occurred to me. This may not be a huge revelation to you but it was to this old farm boy. In Ezekiel 34:26 where it talks about showers of blessings, I had always read that as all good things. But as I sat there feeling frustrated because I couldn’t find that 'all good thing' picture of blessings, I realized that showers do not fall from cloudless skies. Again, SHOWERS DO NOT FALL FROM CLOUDLESS SKIES. You would think that someone who grew up depending on the rain would know that, but sometimes you get a certain thought in your head and you don’t think.

          Now, this is the thing. In order for there to be showers of blessing, there has to be a storm. On a clear and beautiful day, you are exhilarated and filled with the joy of the Lord. But, when you are passing through a storm, the blessings of God become more and more pronounced. There is a branch of Christianity that teaches that if you have enough faith, all will be wonderful. Which is completely unBiblical. It is only in the time of storm that you truly feel the power and presence of the Lord. For the true servant of the Lord, those periods of peace and rest are like R&R for a soldier.

          This is a Biblical truth. When you start to see the truths of the Bible and how they all come together, it gives us a sense of wonder. And so it is that Ezekiel 34 and Matthew 8 link up to make a Biblical truth clearer.

          If there had not been a storm that night on Galilee, the disciples would not have needed a miracle. (Or, rather, a blessing. A blessing is a miracle, either because of its timing or because of its substance.) They would have sailed across the lake without a thought and probably have complained the next morning of their lack of sleep. But the storm did come. Their lives were in danger of being lost and they were afraid. They woke Jesus and He calmed the sea, after He had given them a gentle lesson. This would have been a huge blessing because the need was so great. Showers of blessing only fall from stormy skies.

          But there is one more thing. A wonderful blessing does not mean rest and relaxation. The greater the blessing the greater the work to follow. In Matthew 8 it says that Jesus rebuked the wind and the sea and a great calm settled on the sea. The boat was still filled with water and had to be bailed. And it was a sailing vessel. With no wind, it had to be rowed to shore. Not an easy job. Certainly, Jesus could have dried out the boat and He could have attached a 250 horsepower Evinrude engine to the stern of the boat, but none of that is recorded. Regardless the blessing, there is still work to do.   

          Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? Indeed. Why do we struggle with the fear that grips our soul?  

          When Marsha left me, I was deeply hurt. But I was probably more fearful than hurt. At that time, we had been in the ministry for 43 years. During all of that time I had worked with the Youth, even when I was also pastoring. For many of those kids, the relationship Marsha and I had was the very image of what a committed, Christian relationship should be. I was afraid that they would have a hard time dealing with that, thinking that it had all been a great untruth. I was afraid that we were going to be doing great harm. As the weeks began to pass, there were cards, phone calls, e-mails and texts from former Youth, some in their 20s, some in their 50s and a lot of them in between. Compassion. Caring. Sharing memories. Sharing their love. And every single one of them ending every communication with, “I am praying for both of you.”

          Jesus said, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? A good question.

          “Fear not.”

 

          “Fear not.”

Well known local bloggerist and all around smarty-pants, Miss Mary, gave me her take on fear’s effect on people, particularly believers. Fear can rob us of joy, fear of letting go of the past can keep us from enjoying our present, and fear can keep us off the path God wants us to travel. I want to look at this statement in this ‘bonus blog.’ I also want it known that this is not a bloggy collaboration between Miss Mary and myself. I am just using a single statement. I do not want her to get the idea that she can share in the royalties from this blog.

Fear can rob us of joy. Phil Weck sang a song in church on the last Sunday of April. It was called ‘Thank You’ and was about a man meeting in heaven all the people he had affected on earth and who had eventually gone to heaven because of his witness and concern. It is a powerful song. I love that song because I can think of many I want to look up in Glory and embrace and thank. But ask yourself a question; will any come up to you and thank you for your witness? When have you shared the Gospel with someone? What stories do you have to tell about sharing? If you witnessed you would have stories to tell. You cannot say that you feel it isn’t your job to witness. We have talked about this often in the last five years. “Well, I don’t want to say the wrong thing.” NEWS FLASH!!! Saying nothing is definitely the wrong thing. “I just don’t think I know the Bible well enough.” If you have accepted Christ, you share that. You share what you know. “Truth be told, I don’t want to offend anybody.” And, yet, we will share pictures of our grandbabies or talk politics with perfect strangers. What really keeps us from sharing the Gospel and having the greatest joy ever? Fear. And that fear is from Satan.

Of course, someone will say, ‘It is easy for you to say. You’re a minister.’ Yes, I am a minister. So what? There is nothing that I do that you cannot do or should not do. ‘Obviously, you don’t have fear.’ Of course I have fear. I just know where that fear comes from and I know that greater is He who is in me than he who is in the world. ‘I don’t see how sharing and witnessing can bring great joy.’ That’s proof you don’t do it on a regular basis or not at all. I have shared dozens of stories about seeing someone come to Christ and all have brought me joy. Here is another NEWS FLASH!!! If you are waiting for the Holy Spirit to make you happy and joyful, you have misread your Scripture. The Bible doesn’t say the Spirit is the joy giver. The Bible says the Spirit is the Comforter. The Bible teaches that the Spirit is the One who gives us power to witness. The Bible does not teach that we are in the Spirit when we are all emotional and happy. We are in the Spirit when we are following Him and serving the Lord and sharing His grace and holiness. The reward for being led by the Spirit is the joy that only comes from being faithful.

 Miss Mary also said fear of letting go of the past can keep us from enjoying our present. “We have never done it that way before!” Or, “We have always done it this way!” For nine years I worked with churches on the edge of collapse. They had destroyed themselves. And in every one of them, except one, I heard those two phrases. Why couldn’t they try something new? It might offend one of the old timers. It would require rethinking the standard. It would make extra work. Let me share with you something Orville Chamberlain and I talked about once. I was concerned about how he was handling the coming together of both churches into one worship center. He told me that back in the late 1950s, early 1960s, when he was a youngster in his 30s, he and another church member saw clearly that Urbana could not easily maintain two separate churches. They proposed, to both churches, the idea of coming together as one. He told me that the idea was shot down immediately by both congregations. There was one church on the west side of the road and one on the east side of the road. Period. Been that way since the 1870s. Not changing now! And yet, time demonstrated that the very small community could not maintain two congregations. It took DECADES of tiny little changes and a lot of hurt feelings to bring about what Orville saw so clearly all those years before. “WELL, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND PREACHER! YOU WEREN’T HERE!” I wasn’t here. But I do know that fear of letting go of the past wound up keeping a lot of people from enjoying what was in front of them.

Farming isn’t done the same way it was done in the 1920s. Medicine isn’t done the same way it was done in the 1930s. Communication isn’t done the same way it was done in the 1940s. Innovation is always accepted, except where fear reigns. Many farmers are still out there in their 60s and 70s and 80s, but if they still had to get a team of mules out of the barn every morning and hitch to a plow, well, those farmers would be long dead.

And then, Miss Mary said, fear can keep us off the path God wants us to travel. That Miss Mary is a piece of work, isn’t she? “What does she know? I will go anywhere the Lord wants me to go!” Except that is not always true. In fact, it is rarely true. Going down a path we don’t want to go down is a frightening thing. I don’t want to do that. And yet, when we open up our hearts to the Lord, our paths are not our own.

The Apostle Paul was excited. A relatively new Christian, he wanted to get started with witnessing on the grand scale. He knew the Lord wanted him to go to lands where the Word was needed. He made the decision to travel to the East. To go West would be to travel in the Roman Empire, and he probably didn’t want to do that. He had always lived in the Empire. He wanted something else. The East it was! Maybe he had his thoughts fixed on China! But then, in a dream, he was told to head West. The area we know as Europe. And that is where he went.

OK. We know all that. But what about the East? Did God just write the East off? I don’t think so. I think that God was inspiring someone else to go East. Maybe several others. And I think they didn’t respond. Paul traveled to Europe and set Christianity in motion there. To the East, in the Arab countries and China, there was no Christian witness. Eventually, Islam arose immediately to the East and further, in China, Japan, Korea and such places, they settled into their own religions. How would the world be different if those who were given a different path than what they wanted had actually followed the path the Lord laid out for them? But, to once again quote Miss Smarty Pants, fear can keep us off the path God wants us to travel.

Is fear robbing you of joy? People talk about being on the mountain top in Spiritual joy. And then they say you can’t stay there, but you can go again. I believe that we are just talking about an emotional burst. If we live our lives fearlessly sharing His witness, we can stay on the mountain top. Not in that welling, emotional state, but in knowledge of having done our best. Is fear of letting go of the past causing you to not enjoy your present? Life will never be the same as it was when the kids were little, when you and your friends were young or when that first kiss left you breathless. So what? Let fear go and embrace what is now. Has fear kept you off the path the Lord has for you? Walking with the Lord is not like driving down a super highway. You make an exit there and you have to go a long way until you can turn around. I always think of walking with the Lord as a walk in the woods. You go a ways and then the trail splits and you take the one way, but the other way isn’t really very far away. Pretty easy to get to, actually. Just over there. You can always get back on track with the Lord.

Maybe Miss Smarty Pants is pretty smart. We should listen to what she says. “Fear not.”