The wind often blows straight out of the west. When this happens in the winter, State Route 13 between North Manchester and Wabash becomes a tricky road. With the wide-open fields and no wind breaks, snow is whipped along as fast as the wind is blowing. This covers SR 13 and makes the road quite hazardous, especially as the snow is packed down and turned to ice. Going home one day I felt the wind pushing my car sideways and the car sliding because of the lack of traction. I hit a patch of dry pavement and got the car fully under control, but I really hate that feeling of sliding.

         When I got home, I got on the computer and started looking for vehicles with all wheel drive. I do not need all the bells and whistles that it seems most people need, I just wanted to see the cost of a simply equipped, all wheel drive. I finally found a site that let me ‘build my own.’ It gave me the base model and then let me put all the stuff on it I needed. Everything I needed was already in the base model, so no bells and whistles for me. It also let me figure my probable monthly payment. That was when I decided I did not want a new car. My seven year old, front wheel drive, 42 MPG that I have named Betsy is not so bad after all. In fact, this week I am treating her to a new set of tires and a brake job. I am just going to keep her.

         And that was all I did. I got supper ready and sat down to watch a documentary (a real wild life).

         By noon the next day my e-mail inbox was full of all kinds of offers and deals on new and used vehicles. Trucks, cars, even motorcycles. I also got a note from the company I use to monitor my bank accounts and credit status to watch out for identity theft. They told me that there had been some inquires on my credit. I responded to none of it and it is finally easing up. I had not filled out an on-line credit application or anything like that. I was just looking at cars.

         My mistake in life was buying a jacket, on-line, a few months ago from my old seminary. I got it and haven’t worn it because I don’t like it. It is different from the picture. (I should know better) Other than that, I don’t buy anything on line. So that purchase was all it took. My financial information and, for some reason, my credit scores are all out there.

         Then, and I don’t know if this is related, I got my statement from my credit card company telling me I have been upgraded to a rewards card and I now have 30,000 miles. I don’t know what that means. They cannot be frequent flyer miles. I have been on five flying trips in the last 45 years. Once you have seen clouds from the other side, the thrill of flight is gone. And once your plane has been struck by lightning, it no longer feels safe. So, I am not a frequent flyer. I can go months and months without using a credit card. One for gas, one for general use. And a debit card, which I do use but the only reward there is that it lightens my checking account. So now, to be told I have 30,000 miles is baffling. I do know that the circumference of the earth at the equator is in the neighborhood of 25,000 miles. So, does this mean I can travel around the earth for free and still have miles left? I think I would do that trip.

         The point is, our personal information is all over the internet. Very few really worry about it. The attitude is, “So what? I have nothing to be ashamed of.” But then, when it cost you money, it becomes a bother. And the noose is tightening. My son is a smart young man. Instead of using a credit or debit card to make on-line purchases, h would go to Wal-Mart and get a Wal-Mart Visa money card. Then he would make his order that way. No way to trace his information. But now you have to activate those cards on-line, so your information is still out there.

         People have their identity compromised on Facebook and other social media platforms all the time, and still use them. We buy on-line on a regular basis without thought. It used to be that our social security numbers were not to used as ID, but now it is a standard thing.

         And with all this information, the primary goal is to separate you from your money. No one is trying to help you. No one is looking out for your best interests.

         About fifteen years ago a woman came to me. She had been phished. It is pronounced as ‘fished’ and referred to someone gaining your banking information and then taking money from your account. I don’t know if this is still a thing, but for a while it was something everyone was afraid of. This woman was distraught as she told me her tale. We talked about how easy, even then, it was for someone to do something like that. “Pastor, its almost like they are God and know everything about you. That is what has always bothered me about God. So creepy. He knows everything about me!” God being ‘creepy’ had never entered my mind. Santa Claus, yes but not God. I explained that God knowing us was like a parent knowing what was going on with their children. But she insisted that it was creepy. This told me that there was something going on with her that she wanted to hide from God. She got phished again about six months later. She was more worried about God looking out for her than she was about someone stealing from her.

         In Matthew 10 Jesus refers to the hairs on our head being numbered, or counted. This is in a portion of Scripture telling us of God’s care and love for us. God is not being ‘creepy.’ He is just being a better parent than any of us will ever be.

         God knows my need before I ever do. God knows I am going to start to slide and puts a patch of dry road in place. God knows I am going to run into someone I haven’t seen in three months and he is going to put that person’s name on my tongue. I don’t mind that God knows me so well, because I know He is not going to hurt me or cheat me or steal from me. To tell you the truth, it really bothered me that I was suddenly deluged by car ads. But God took that concern away and gave me peace about how to deal with it.

         I am just going to continue my relationship with Betsy.    

          My home computer is ancient in computer terms. The operating system is no longer supported by the manufacturer, which means I can no longer update my computer. It has been like that for a long time. However, it has files I don’t want to copy onto the lap top at the office. It has obscure webpages about Scripture that I can’t get elsewhere. And, like an old friend, it just feels good to sit down and start communicating.

         But, I am afraid its time is coming to an end. It is sad. Those files I have in it that I refer to from time to time, keep disappearing. Then, they show up in odd places. Imagine you have a neatly organized filing cabinet. Everything you want in it's proper file. And then your grandkids come over and get into everything and wind up turning the filing cabinet completely over. That is what is going on with my computer. Almost every day there is something out of place. I just bought a new monitor and now I fear I will have to buy a new computer.

         Sometimes, though, there is a benefit. The blog I write here is not my first venture into writing. I have been putting words to paper for ministry almost as long as I have been in the ministry. Recently, I had a whole file disappear. I have come to where I don’t fret over these things anymore. Once I cease to write, my writing will be forgotten within the hour. The strange thing about this incident, however, is that one article reappeared all on its own. One article out of a whole file popped up as I was trying to make another file work. As I read the article the memory all came back and I had to smile. I think most of you will relate.

         Just to bring you up to speed, Sheetz is a gas station/convenience store very popular in Northeast Ohio and Pennsylvania. At the time, everyone who had a cell phone (they were all flip phones with little antennas) had their phone on a ‘plan’ and the ‘plan’ was to rip you off. I had the cheapest phone on the market because I didn’t need a plan. I could get a minutes card. I usually got one for thirty minutes a month, which was all I needed. And finally, the event took place in January in Northeast Ohio. We had just been hit with a Lake affect snow storm that was measured in feet rather than inches. It was cold, the snow was high and it was miserable. Read on;

         This past Tuesday morning dawned clear but terribly cold. It was -5º and when you added the wind chill it brought it down to -25º. Schools were closed, government offices were closed. If you didn’t have to be out you were to stay home. At the time I leave for the office, though, the traffic pretty much consists of real people going to real jobs. We are NE Ohioans. If you can see to drive, you drive.

         I stopped at Sheetz in Perry to get a cup of coffee and to buy a phone card for minutes on my cell phone. (I have found that I can have a phone plan and pay the monthly fee and all the hidden charges or I can pay as I go and save a ton. No brainer for me.) As I walked in, was a young woman standing there with a cell phone up to her ear. She was maybe 25 years old and from her clothing she looked to be a nurse. She looked bone tired, which also made me think she was a nurse. As I neared her she said, “Hi, Daddy. It’s Megan. I just wanted to let you know that my car is acting up and I finally got here to Sheetz, but I don’t think it is going to get me home.”  OK, at this point I have to tell you something. I never listen to phone conversations of other people. Mostly because I think that people in a restaurant or grocery store or some other such place who are gabbing on the phone are just being rude. I don’t need to hear their conversation, their language or their story. But (and here is the confession) this child started the conversation with “Hi, Daddy.” She looked tired, she looked beaten and she was calling Daddy. Suddenly the candy aisle, which was right behind her, got my attention. I stopped to examine the Rolos and to listen to her call.

         “No, no, Daddy. I’ll call Nick. You don’t need to come out in this cold. I just wanted you to know.” She listened for a bit more, then, “Daddy, no, it’s OK. Nick will come or I can get somebody.” I wanted to know who Nick was and why there would even be a question of his coming, but going on…. “Well, OK Daddy, if you insist. No, I am inside and it is warm enough. I’ll stand right here by the door and watch for you. OK. I love you, too.”

         Good for you, Daddy! And for Megan who, even though she is a grown woman and making her life happen, still chooses to call Daddy before she calls Nick. The bond between Daddy and Megan is still strong and probably always will be. Yes, I eavesdropped for a little bit. I didn’t buy the Rolos, either. But by the time I walked past Megan on the way out with my coffee and phone card,  I didn’t care so much about the cold. She was standing there by the door looking like a little girl waiting for Daddy. It was good.

         We call it the ‘circle of life.’ We grow up and listen to our parents when we are little, then as we hit the teen years we just roll our eyes and shake our heads at the old folks’ silliness. We become young adults and decide we need them and then we have our own kids and the cycle starts again. Meanwhile, our own folks grow old and feeble and then we say goodbye. In time it is our turn. The circle of life keeps turning.

         Except it is more than a circle. It is experiences and lessons taught and lessons learned. It is laughter and sometimes tears and memories that no one else shares. It is frustration and little victories and hugs for no reason. It is not a circle of life, it is the fullness of life.

         Daddy was probably pretty much dressed getting ready for his own job. In my mind’s eye I can see him hurriedly pulling his shoes on, getting his coat and hustling to the car. I know this because I have done it, too. So have you. And it’s worth it because somewhere there is a young person who has given us pain and joy, who is standing by a door waiting for us to come. 

         The fullness of life.

          I begin this with the understanding that not everyone sees things as I do. As much as I can, I hold forth the ideals and power of Scripture as the ultimate source of salvation and leadership in my life. I reject the notions of people as to how things should be done if it goes contrary to Scripture. I am human, and my own experience in life does color my perceptions at times, but when that happens, I always try to point out that this is my personal thought, not necessarily the Bible’s.

         I often see things that lights a fire under me but does not bother others. Perhaps this is one of those things. You may look at this and shrug your shoulders and say it doesn’t apply to you. You may look at this and not see the urgency. You may look at this and wonder why Pastor is boring us today. But it is a terrible thing to me.

         Just for some background, the Roman Catholic saint Augustine said centuries ago that only the holy go to heaven. In order to show holiness, one must do the seven sacraments of the Church. It follows, then, that one must do the sacraments to go to heaven. The word ‘sacrament’ is just another word for ‘ritual’ and may, or may not, have any roots in Scripture. The sacraments are;

1.)Baptism-Usually administered to infants, but can be given at any time, especially if a person converts to Catholicism later in life. The purpose is to absolve the person from the original sin of Adam, thus ensuring the infant will go to heaven if they die as infants. The water used in the sprinkling or pouring must be holy water, blessed by the Vatican.

2.)Confession and Penance-This is the act of confessing one’s sin and then doing something to atone for that sin. The sins are confessed to a priest who then gives some little act to do to be granted atonement. Apparently, the atonement of Jesus was not enough.

3.)Eucharist-We would call this Communion, only with a twist. First, it must be done at every Mass. The Catholics believe that the wafer becomes the actual body of Christ when it touches the tongue and the wine actually becomes the blood of Christ as it is consumed.

4.)Confirmation-This is the act of bringing the Holy Spirit into one’s life. This is done through study, good deeds and confession. Usually given to children at around twelve years of age. However, if one is converting it can be given at any time.

5.)Matrimony-The act of getting married. The purpose of marriage is to produce children. Therefore, no unnatural form of contraception may be used.

6.)Anointing the sick-This is done by the laying on of hands and anointing with oil. The oil used must be blessed by the Vatican.

7.)Holy Orders-All Catholics are tasked with the job of spreading the word of the Church. At the higher levels there are the clergy, beginning with the Pope, then the cardinals, bishops, priests, deacons and monks, nuns, or sisters. Of all of these, only the deacons are allowed to embrace the sacrament of Matrimony. The others are forbidden to marry.

Biblically speaking, none of these Sacraments are required for salvation. Penance comes the closest, but we confess to the Lord, not the priest.

Obviously, there are dozens of other rituals performed by the Catholic church that we see as pointless or downright blasphemous. But we forget just how tied these people are to their rituals.

And all of this brings me to an article I read on Tuesday.

Andres Arango is a Brazilian born Catholic priest most recently serving as pastor in Phoenix, Arizona. Before that, he served in San Diego and before that, in Brazil. For over twenty years he has served as a priest.

However, this beloved priest is no longer serving. The Roman Catholic church that, for perhaps centuries, has turned a blind eye to power, financial and sexual abuse, is lowering the boom on the Rev. Arango. And what despicable atrocity is he guilty of these last twenty odd years?

The correct words a Roman Catholic priest is to use during a baptism is, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” For over twenty years the Rev. Arango has said, “We baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Yes, you have read that right. This despicable man said, “We baptize” rather than “I baptize.” Therefore, all baptisms he has performed are invalid.

In his apology letter, priest Arango says it saddens him to find out he has been performing baptisms in wrong fashion for his whole ministry. If this is true then he didn’t realize he was in the wrong and his invalid baptisms probably numbers into the hundreds, or even the thousands.  

The words they say at all such occasions (baptisms, funerals, weddings and such) are called formulas. They will include their own little sermon, but they are locked in to the formula. To the Catholic, “We baptize you” indicates everyone in attendance has a hand in the baptism. “I baptize you” is just Jesus Christ doing the baptism, through the physical efforts of the priest, who is His appointed stand in.

In Catholic ideology, because all of these people were baptized incorrectly, they will go to Hell since they have not kept the first sacrament. Fortunately, you can go online and get it sorted out. Thank goodness for the internet! 

So, you might say that yes, this is absurd, but it is their problem. However, it is a human problem. We say right in our own church constitution that we have two sacraments, baptism and Communion. We don’t even consider the ‘sacrament’ just means ‘ritual.’ We are a ritual people. If you say, “We have never done it that way,” or “we have always done it this way,” you are expressing ritual. Sitting in the same pew, parking in the same space, eating your vegetables before your meat; ritual. Individuals have rituals, families have rituals, churches have rituals.

Rituals can stunt a person’s mental and Spiritual growth, rituals can destroy families and rituals can kill churches. Today, in the minds of hundreds and hundreds young people, they are going to Hell because their priest said ‘We’ instead of ‘I.’ In reality, it is their adherence to these rituals that is sending them to Hell.

You do not need rituals. You need Jesus as Savior and the Holy Spirit as Guide. If we open ourselves up to the Lord, we will have real freedom rather than the bondage of ritual.

         While many of you have been sipping at your hot drink of choice and gazing out at our winter wonderland, I have been at work. Sunday’s message is now up to an hour and ten minutes and I am just on point two. The kitchen floor is mopped. Laundry is done. I am working on a blog series for Lent. In a little bit I will make a cup of tea and glance outside to see if my car has re-emerged from its snowy cocoon. This is the first real snow day since I have been here and I am enjoying it.

         But things changed a bit on Wednesday afternoon. At 4 o’clock I got an expected and planned call. John is a funeral director at the funeral home I used to work at. We have known each other for years and I count him as a friend. Two children not yet ten and a lovely wife who is one of those people who just makes you smile when she walks into a room. She is from Taiwan and is so happy to be in America. Marsha and I have eaten real Chinese food in their home, and it is much better than the stuff we get here. John didn’t have the best of relationships with his father, so I sort of came to fill that role.

         John could, and would, torment me from time to time. Never mean, just impish. I did just about everything at the funeral home including leading services as a minister if the family had no minister. If I was acting as the director or as the minister, I was deadly serious. Not in the sense that my words were sad and ominous, but in the sense that everything go off as planned. I never wanted the family to look back and remember the goofs. This is where John would get me. He was a musician and, as such, was the music minister at his church. He can play five instruments, but really likes the guitar. Sometimes, if I was the minister and he was the director, he would go to the cemetery early and hide his guitar, in its case, in some bushes. Then, as I was doing the graveside, he would retrieve the guitar and when I was done he would announce that he and I would sing ‘Amazing Grace,’ or some such. One sweltering day in August we were burying a lady who had loved Christmas, so he pulled out his guitar and we sang ‘Silent Night.’ It was never inappropriate but it was also something I never wanted to do or had planned to do. One time we were having the graveside for a lovely Irish woman whose wonderful Irish husband, Daniel, had died a couple of years before. Everyone gathered had red hair and freckles. As I said the final prayer, John stepped up beside me. When I was done he handed me a paper and told the gathered that Pastor Wade was also Irish, and now Pastor Wade was going to sing ‘O Danny Boy.’ The paper had the words. In that situation you cannot say no. It would mar the whole funeral. So I sang ‘O Danny Boy.’ It took a couple of days, but I finally started talking to him again.

         Wednesday’s conversation started out as conversation does between two friends. Kimberly, my daughter in law, works at the funeral home, so we talked of the baby. John scolded me for not being there yet. We talked of his wife and kids. John’s mother got COVID just after Thanksgiving and passed it on to him, so Christmas services for him were problematic. He brought me up to speed about things at the funeral home. Just general things of interest to both of us. But then we got to the purpose of the call.

         Final arrangements for my disposition after I die. The disposition is the disposal of a body. It could be burial at sea, it could be the scattering of cremated remains or it could be a traditional burial or entombment. There are a couple of others, but we won’t go there. The big issue is the transport back to Ohio. I know a few of you will say, “But there is room at Speicher or St. Peter’s cemeteries!” I know that, but I want to be near my son so he can feel guilty for not getting around to see me. There are logistics to work out, plans to make and money to pay. When I die I do not want my son to have to deal with those issues.

         And at this point I need to step away from the story. Please, please, please prearrange your final arrangements. “Oh, no! Too creepy!” I know. I have heard it over and over. But then when you sit down and you begin to hear the options, it all falls into place. And you are relieving your loved ones of a great burden. We are all going to die. Prepare for it to save you children or spouse the pain of picking out a casket and deciding clothing. Call the funeral home you wish to use and set a meeting up.

         Now, back to point.

         My arrangements are simple in the extreme. I want to be cremated in the same cremation chamber in which I have cremated over 1500 people. I want my remains to be put in a simple urn and given to my son. That is it. Nothing else. No funeral. He may wish to do something else, but that is on him, I have learned that once a preacher leaves a community, they are soon forgotten. No point in having a funeral with five people.

         As I talked to John, this was reinforced. John told me how much I had meant to him. He also told me of Paul’s expanded duties. I first met Paul and Peggy when their infant son died suddenly. Devout Catholics, they couldn’t understand how this could happen. I explained that the boy was in glory and that they could go and see him, too. But only through Christ. Paul started working at the funeral home and we talked daily. They now have three children and you could not meet a nicer Christian family. John and I talked about Mark, who is now pastoring a church. Mark was a burned out preacher who wanted nothing ever to do with the pulpit again. I got him a job at the funeral home doing odd jobs and worked to bring the 'pastor' in him back. Over so many years there have been so many like that, and that is what is important.

         The funeral is for the living, not the dead. It is for closure. But what is really important is the life we live here and the Christ we proclaim.

The Dash Poem by Linda Ellis

I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend

He referred to the dates on the tombstone, from the beginning...to the end

 

He noted that first came the date of birth, and spoke the following date with tears,

But he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years.

 

For that dash represents all the time, that they spent alive on earth.

And now only those who loved them know what that little line is worth

 

For it matters not, how much we own, the cars...the house...the cash.

What matters is how we live and love and how we spend our dash.

 

So, think about this long and hard. Are there things you'd like to change?

For you never know how much time is left, that can still be rearranged.

 

If we could just slow down enough to consider what's true and real

And always try to understand the way other people feel.

 

And be less quick to anger and show appreciation more

And love the people in our lives, like we've never loved before.

 

If we treat each other with respect and more often wear a smile,

Remembering this special dash might only last a while

 

So, when your eulogy is being read, with your life's actions to rehash...

Would you be proud of the things they say, about how you spent YOUR dash?