My car is a 2015. I like my car. It has a back-up camera, which I think is a wonderful idea. It also has a side camera on the right side which comes on when I turn right. I pay no attention. I don't need it because I know how to use the side mirror and how to turn my head to look out the windows on the right side. My car has a light on the dash that lets me know if I have low air pressure in a tire. I don't use it, either. First, there is a sensor problem, and it is always on. Second, I know how to check the pressure in the tires on my own. So, I like my car even though I do not use all the bells and whistle common on vehicles of that time. 

    Most of you know I am in Ohio now to assist Marsha after her two strokes. Part of that is taking her wherever she needs or wants to go. My car is a little hard to get into and out of, so on these occasions, we take her car. She bought it before the strokes and is a 2023. I hate that vehicle. Various tones and lights for everything. If you are on the highway and someone is passing you, there is an urgent alarm to let you know someone is passing. I know someone is passing because I pay attention to rearview and side mirrors and can turn my head to the left or right. If I make a somewhat sharper turn to the left or right and cross the white line just a little, an alarm goes off. If I am in a parking space with the car in reverse and a car goes by, another alarm goes off. I am not moving because I saw the car coming, but the alarm goes off anyway. When you get into the car and close the door, an alarm goes off to let you know you have closed the door. Two things that really bug me when I am stopped at a stop light or stop sign. First, the engine shuts off. If I brake to a stop, the engine shuts down to conserve gas. When I let off the brake, it starts back up. The second thing is, when the vehicle in front of me starts to pull away, an alarm sounds. The first time I drove this piece of junk, I kept asking Marsha what all the various noises were. She had no idea. Gradually, I have identified the noises. When I asked Marsha why the alarm sounds when the front car is pulling away, she supposed it was to alert the driver of second car who might be texting or had fallen asleep. That sounds stupid to me, but it is probably right. An interesting point is that falling asleep at the wheel or texting at the wheel is illegal. That vehicle drives me nuts. I drove her to Cleveland today for a doctor's appointment. Four lanes of traffic headed into town. 60 miles per hour. Bumper to bumper. Cars all around. It sounded like a orchestra warming up before the show with each instrument doing its own thing. Lights and buzzers and bells and honks and the GPS telling me there was a very sharp left coming. 

    We are designing our tech to make it so we don't have to think. And we welcome it.

    Yet, all this that is designed to make life easier is actually dumbing us down. If you mention running a trap line or taking furs, anyone younger than 50 is confused. Probably 20 years ago I was sitting on a bench in a mall and reading a book while waiting for my wife when two teen girls walked up to me and asked the time. I looked at my watch and told them it was a quarter past five. They gave me a weird look and hurried on. I thought about that and realized I was speaking a foreign language. If I had said five fifteen, they would have understood. Cashiers mostly don't know how to count change. You get the wrong change back and you question it, and the response is, "This thing here says you get $4.72 back." The cash register is always right. I once asked for the manager and when she came, she also pointed out that the register said $4.72. Do we ever really think for ourselves anymore?

    This has swept on us like a sudden storm. It affects everything we do. Someone posts a couple of Bible verses on Facebook and we seize on them. "Wow, the Holy Spirit really spoke to me there!" Except, maybe not. Jeremiah 29:11---For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Oh, wow, that sounds great! By itself, it does sound great. But I would bet that maybe one person in a thousand knows the context of that verse without going back and reading it. Jeremiah is writing God's word to the those who survived the forced march to Babylon. He tells them to work hard to establish themselves in the strange, new land. Work hard, stay true to the Lord, bear suffering because God has a plan in all of it. And, in 70 years that plan will become apparent. It isn't immediate help. The people reading it would almost all be dead. It is not given for comfort. It is given as instruction. Several have sent me this verse since I retired. Thank you for being concerned, but I don't have 70 years to wait. 

    We are human, and humans like their ease. Don't be dumbed down. Stand strong for the true faith. When someone plucks a verse from here and from there, go back and read the passage. Pray, read, study to show yourself approved. Be the people God wants you to be.                                  

It has always brought a surge of exultation and yet, humbleness. For eleven years and three months, I got to do it every week, but for the rest of my ministry it was once a month. This time was different in some ways. The sanctuary was large and new, all the folks from the Yoke were there and many others, as well. The Elders, Brian and Ed and Claud, were there assisting in the presentation the service. It seemed very familiar, and yet, it seemed out of place. Still, we were entering the time for the Lord's Supper. This was the exultation and the sense of humbleness. Exultation from knowing that here was the Gospel in its purest demonstration, humbleness from knowing that by presiding over this event, I was serving in the place where Christ once served. This feeling had been there every time I had been in this situation; gratefulness and unworthiness overwhelmed me. I looked to the ceiling into the beautiful crystal chandelier to quietly, before we actually started, give the Lord my deepest thanks. The glitter of lights in the chandelier lifted my soul!

And then I began to realize that it wasn't a chandelier after all. It was the vertical blinds over the door to the patio. They were reflecting the light from somewhere outside in the night as they swayed in the light breeze. The music I was hearing was not coming from Nancy and Janene, but from the neighbor's wind chimes as they, too, let the breeze move them. The brightly lit sanctuary dimmed drastically to the darkness that only night provides. I wanted to hold on to the images I had been seeing, but the dream faded quickly. I lay there and an all-encompassing sadness swept over me. There was no brightly lit sanctuary, there were no folks from the Yoke, or from anywhere else, there awaiting the blessing Communion brings. The Elders, my friends, were not there. Just an empty and dark room. Tears stained my face.

I got up and made my way to the kitchen, where I made a cup of coffee. (Coffee; a drink to be served in times of happiness, sadness, joy, grief, clear mindedness, confusion or at any other time of human existence.) I sat down and pondered the dream. In seminary we took a couple of courses in dream interpretation in psychology. Certain elements of dreams show up quite commonly in everyone's dreams. Certain emotions, certain visual things. Our dreams are our minds with no filters and can tell us a lot about ourselves. As I thought back on the dream, I realized that the new and bright sanctuary was part of what I always wanted for the Yoke. A new church sitting in what used to be a bean field. I always felt that the folks deserved to have that building. I rarely shared this desire, but I had it, nonetheless. The additional people were the growth of the congregation. The Elders, assisting, were the friends with whom I had shared. I felt the service was the first in the new building. The chandelier was, oddly, from the front entrance of the funeral home I managed in Ohio. At a funeral home you deal with grief. Sometimes I would look at the glittering lights and feel my mood growing easier. (And then I would see a light that was out, and I would have to go and get a ladder and change the bulb.) All of it was what I had envisioned for the Yoke.

But it was the Lord's Supper that caused the tears. I know that for many, the Lord's Supper is a monthly ritual. I know that some churches have it just once a year or not at all. I have known pastors who resented the Supper because it took time from their service. But for me it was always the most sacred of times, and Maundy Thursday was the most sacred service of the year. 

The bread represents the perfectly sinless body of the Savior taking on the punishment we deserve, and the fruit of the vine represents the sacrificial blood that covers our sins. How can that be a ritual? How can that be common place? It says to us the story of redemption and it shows the never ending love of Christ. The most solemn of times.

Solemn does not mean humorless. Many years ago, at a church I pastored, we were having a baptismal service for new believers. After every baptismal service, a couple of the Elders would gather the ones just baptized in a room just off the baptistry and they would administer Communion to the group. There were ten or twelve freshly baptized believers this Sunday. One, Jim, was really excited to be receiving Communion. After he received the bread and the fruit of the vine, he bubbled up and said, "Oh man, three Communions and one baptism! I feel holy now!" We did Lord's Supper every week at that church. Jim had been in the early service and received Communion. He had been in the later service and had received Communion. Now he had just received Communion for the third time that day and, because he understood the message, he truly felt blessed of God.

So, the Lord's Supper of the dream was to be a joyful experience. But the dream ended before the Communion began. This was the very sad part of the dream. I may preside over Communion again as one who fills a pulpit or who serves as an interim pastor, but I will not serve with a congregation so dear to me again, and that hurts my soul.

However, I am not done. I was asked Friday by a lady if I would do a Bible study in the building in which I live. This makes me smile. It may be that a Sunday school class will soon come open. Wonderful opportunities are ahead!

It will be fine, but never the same. What is the same is that Jesus died, was buried and rose again for you and for me. I pray that next Sunday, as you prepare your spirit for the Lord's Supper, that you will allow the Lord's Spirit to move on you. Quench not the Holy Spirit!

Blessings. 

           

for

    "I don't get it, man! What is God's plan for my life?"

    It took me a second or two to understand that he was actually asking me what God's plan was for him.

    "I really don't know what God's plan is for you. But He has a plan for you. You have to seek it." We talked about how that needed to be done. We prayed over it. A month later he stormed into my office, filled with rage.

    "I GAVE GOD HIS CHANCE AND HE DIDN'T COME THROUGH!"

    I didn't see him for a couple of months until I was called to talk him out of blowing his brains out. A month was all he had granted God.

    "Young man, what is your vision for this church?" Binghampton, New York. I thought I was there to help them through their time of crisis. They were wanting me to be their pastor. The whole thing was doomed from the beginning. The sour looking old lady asking was asking a common question. What was this man's vision for the church. 

    "Ma'am, I have no vision for this church. If I came here my goal would be to help the church find the vision God wants for you."

    That was not what they wanted to hear. They wanted someone to come in with a plan and when they did not like the plan, they had someone to fire and then they could blame their failure on that person. I was not called to the church, and I would not have accepted if I had been called.

    We all want the plan, the vision. But we want it NOW, we want it handed to us, we want it without struggle. Yet, that is not God's way most of the time.

    Let's take Abraham. While his name was still Abram, God gave him a word. Abram was 75 years old. People lived a bit longer than now, but 75 was still a little old to set out on a journey. And Abram didn't know anything about the plan. He just went forth at the command of the Lord and learned it bit by bit along the way. Noah, Moses, Gideon, Daniel and many, many others. In fact, the lesson is drilled home at the very end of the Bible. John says, "Even so, Lord Jesus, come!" He was looking at the events of his day and linking them up with the vision he had and equating that with the end and was asking the Lord to come. And that was 2,000 years ago.

    But what is God's plan? I don't know. But I know how to find out. First, commit yourself to the Lord. And not just the casual stuff. Just going to church, singing the songs and asking for prayer requests is only casual commitment. We need to raise that up. We need to live each day by faith. When I was in school, we had a young pastor wanna-be who had his entire career mapped out on paper. Every five years he would move to a larger church until he had the BIG church. Everything was there, even pay packages. I thought that was kind of neat, but I just could not do that. I knew it needed to come bit by bit. The wanna-be pastor did not make it the first few years after graduation. Commit yourself. 

    After yourself, commit your family. There might be family members who reject the Lord, but you keep praying for them. A lady from up-state New York told me a few years ago that she prayed for her grandkids daily and would dearly love to see them saved. I told her to commit those three boys and let the Holy Spirit work. Something would happen and it might be after she dies. She just wanted to see it, but she committed those boys.

    And then you commit your congregation. If a committed people commit their faith family, there is no limit as to what God will do. But be assured that casual commitment will not bring blessing.   

    What is God's plan?

    Time to find out.

                                                                    

Last week was ONE-OF-THOSE-WEEKS. I only got one blog out. I am really hoping to do better this week. I could write this blog on last week, but I would rather forget the whole thing. However, if you just HAVE to know, drop me a note at oldirishguy51@yahoo.com.

Where I live now, there is a great exodus from church that is going on. Churches surround me that were once vibrant, growing churches. I grew up here, and I know what I am talking about. Now, a few of those churches are closed, some should be closed, and others are struggling. Is it because some churches refused to change their music or their style of preaching or the way they dress? Are churches struggling because they are stuffy or outdated or because they dictate how people should live? Are churches dying because they refuse to drop their denominational names and adopt cool names instead? Names like Vitality Church or Church in the Trees? You would never associate these churches with the Baptist denominations. Their secret is safe.

We have come to think that these are the reasons for failure. However, in my area now, one of the largest churches in our area is very legalistic, they dictate how you dress and how you live your lives, they stick with the old hymns, men wear ties and women where dresses and they have their denomination proudly included in their name. So, what gives?

Satan.

That is right. Satan.

Satan wants you to think that all you have to do is change your music or change your dress style or any of those other things. By the time churches come to realize that those things don't work, the churches will be little more than dust. I know traditional churches that are thriving and I know contemporary churches that are soaring, but I also know many of both types that are dying.

Four reasons why churches are in trouble:

1.) Childhood beliefs shattered. Children are taught in Sunday School that the Bible is holy, God is love and that prayer is the answer. Then, around ten or eleven, they really begin to have these beliefs assaulted in school. Lately, even earlier. They hear other viewpoints from teachers, TV, movies and books. Why should they be stuck to one set of beliefs? Kids move away from the Lord quickly and easily. However, it is not because the other beliefs are so inviting. It is because parents and grandparents are too casual with their own beliefs. Do your kids ever see you bent over a Bible? Do they ever hear you pray other than at the table? Do they see you live a Godly and separated life? Your kids are at school 7 hours a day, but you have them the rest of time. You wouldn't let them walk out of your house naked, but do you let them go out without being clothed in Godliness?

2.) Disrespect. Uh, what now? What do you mean? Sunday afternoon. Lunch has been in the slow cooker all morning and is smelling great when the family walks in. The crew sits around the table and prays and the feast begins. Not the food feast, but rather the feasting on the people at church. I wish Mrs. Sanchez would not bring that grandchild! He is so noisy! I did not like that third song. Has no place in church. Mr. Blankenship smelled funny again. Can you believe those two strangers took our pew? This roast would taste even better if the preacher would mind his time a little closer. Not only do the children hear this, but the adults, as well. It under cuts the respect and love Christians should feel for one another.

3.) Television preachers. If you know me, you know this is one of my pet peeves. For every Charles Stanley out there, it seems to be a dozen schemers who are using gullibility and the Bible to strip folks of their money. Why should I go to church when the preaching is so much better and I can sit in my PJs and listen? And then, something happens and the TV preacher is found to be involved in something truly disgusting. Faith is placed in a person and then is shattered. Actually, this goes for any facet of Christian life. Some human is placed on a pedestal and then, when they sin, faith is shattered. Sometimes it doesn't even take sin. My wife and I were going to go visit a shut-in one Saturday afternoon. One of the ladies wanted to go along with us. None of the three of us had ever been to this home and it was before GPS had even been thought of. We were going by someone's directions and so when we came to a place where we could only go left or right, I asked my wife what she thought. Left, she said. OK, I think right and we can double back if I am wrong. Our passenger never came to church again BECAUSE A PREACHER AND HIS WIFE SHOULD NEVER DISAGREE! Silly, but the point is, ALWAYS PUT YOUR FAITH IN THE LORD!  

4.) Unkind treatment. Most churches express the desire to grow. Years ago my wife and I were on vacation. It was a rare vacation where I was not scheduled to preach somewhere. We were out of town and saw a larger brick church. There was where we would go to church the next day. When we got there, we saw that the sanctuary would have easily sat 500, but there were only about 60 scattered throughout. You would have thought they would have been all over these two strangers. But no. Not only were we ignored, but when church was over, people pushed by us rushing to get out. If we had been new to the community, we would never have gone back. Anyone who has gone through the process of finding a new church has encountered this treatment somewhere. 

So, what does this say? Why are churches dying? It is not because of music or style of preaching or anything else like that. No, the reason so many churches are struggling is because the people in the congregation have left their Godliness behind, both in the church and in their personal lives. Your actions, your language, your attitude gives you away. But you can change that. Start with prayer. Get back to the Word of God, and don't commit to reading the Bible in a year. Take your time. Soak it up. Begin to live the Word.

Talk to you all in a few days.

Blessings.                        

 

"A woman died in this house 80 years ago, all alone and under terrible circumstance." So begins a television show about the paranormal. This brave trio is going to attempt to contact the spirit of the dead woman and convince her to leave the house and the terrified family that lives there now. They have electronic equipment that can see into the spirit world and with this equipment they hope to tap into the spirit. Right after these important commercial messages.

Or it could be a show about aliens. (cosmic, not South American) Or it could be about interdimensional shifts and creatures and people from another realm. 'The truth is out there.'

It all fits into an hour of programming. At the end there is no real evidence that there was success. Even so, the show makes a lot of money from the sponsors and the sponsors make lots of money from the viewer and the viewer has a lot of anxiety. But is it all real?

Some of you are nodding and saying under your breath, 'I know what I saw and it was real!' The show I endured stated that when someone dies an unhappy death their soul remains in the place where they died, seeking peace. People in semi-creepy old homes hear knockings and moans and breathing. Sometimes a voice wakes them, but no one is there. Suddenly there is a cold spot in the room and the rest of the room is warm. So, common sense tells us it must be real.

But...wait a minute. I just spent a week in a local hospital. Many people have died very unhappy deaths there. It should be crawling with ghouls and spirits. Of course, it is a modern hospital, well-lit and filled with all manner of people. Maybe spirits are unhappy only if the place they are in is old and creepy and drafty and settling. That would make me unhappy. Maybe aliens only visit one or two people at a time because they are shy. Maybe alien abduction cases happen to people who have angered our space cousins. Again, the truth is out there.

Pastor, you have never seen what I saw! You are just a skeptic! No, I have never seen what you saw, and you have never seen what I have seen. A dining room table with all eight chairs on top of the table, neatly arranged. Just the front legs of the chairs were on the table. The back legs were in the air. A rocking chair rocking with no one around. I asked the family where all the disturbances seemed to originate from. The daughter stepped up and said her room. As we walked toward her room, an imprint of a very large hand pressing against me appeared on my shirt. It was difficult to move. When we got to her room, I immediately saw a satanic emblem on a necklace on her dresser. I asked where she got it. From a boyfriend. I asked her if she minded if I destroyed it. She said no. Her Dad had been working in the room and his tool belt was there. I took the hammer and smashed the necklace. Then I gathered the family and prayed with them and commanded the demon that was affecting the house to leave. The chairs fell, the rocker stopped and they never had another problem. This was just one incident that I have been involved in. I have also seen strange lights in the sky. I have met some people who seemed like aliens.

Oh, yes, I believe.

I believe what we see and hear is demon activity. I believe TV shows that exploit such activity are driven by Satan in order to confuse and dismay people and drive them from God. I believe that when we die we go to our reward, either heaven or hell. The Bible tells us the believer is absent from the body when they die and present with Lord and with the story of the rich man going to hell upon dying, I believe that the unbeliever dies here and comes to in hell.

Yes, the truth is out there. It isn't in some truly stupid TV show. It isn't on the pages of some book written by a paranormal expert. The truth is on the pages of the Bible. And if we would quit watching the shows and reading the books and instead concentrate on the Word of God, the truth would be etched upon our hearts.

Blessings. 

 

 I know you all want to know. So here is a quick update. I got really, really sick. I really didn't like it. I went to ER. I spent a week in the hospital. First couple of days were pretty dark. I got better. I am home. Enough said. I don't want to burn time on it right now.

Except indirectly.

Labor Day in this country is a national holiday, meant to honor the workers. It is a day to play, to relax, to eat and to take it easy. Though it is meant to honor the worker, little thought is given to the worker because the worker is having fun. 

But not in every case. Emergency personnel, retailers, healthcare workers, farmers and such work. Some to give aid, some to chase the dollar, some because their work is never done. Having just spent the holiday in a hospital, I would like to share some observations.

I went in on Tuesday evening prior to the holiday. The hospital was buzzing with action. Doctors, nurses, techs, housekeeping, all busy with various tasks. By noon on Wednesday, I had seen four doctors, several techs, lots of nurses and others hustling around doing their jobs. I had a CAT scan, an X-ray and several visual examinations. Thursday brought more hustle and bustle. On Friday it began to slow down. Saturday was pretty quiet. Sunday there was very little being done. Monday was like a ghost town. Holiday weekend. Unofficial end of summer. We are conditioned to understand.

Don't misunderstand me. Everyone needs time away from work to refresh. But in this blog I want to talk about four people who impressed me. Who went to work and very likely saved lives.

I was in the same hospital four weeks ago. On Saturday, a young nurse entered my room. I wrote of Rosa a couple of weeks ago. Young woman going through a very hard time. On this Saturday, this young lady walked up to me and gave me a hug. I was in isolation, not even allowed in the halls. You had to gown up just to come in and scrub when you left. It was time consuming. But here was Rosa. "What are you doing here?" "I heard you were here and I wanted to say hi!" "I don't mean in this room. You should be off today." She became serious. "I have a patient in a bad way. I traded with someone so I could keep an eye on her." We talked for a bit more and then she went back to her patient. Why? She is a fine nurse, but her medical expertise probably wasn't going to keep that woman alive. But her presence, her depth of caring....maybe that would save a life.

On Thursday a man was brought in right across the hall from me. I don't know what his issue was, but he was sick. Vomiting every few minutes. Every moment a struggle. I so wanted to go pray with him, but I was in isolation, and I didn't have the strength anyway. Enter Kateland, another young lady from my being there a few weeks ago. Very young. A nursing student who was working as an aide to pay for it. Sweet as she could be. The gentleman across the hall was one of hers, as was I. Her schooling was to resume on Tuesday after the holiday and the hospital had given her the weekend off since she had just worked four 12 hour days in a row. But she had traded days so she could watch over this man and wife, who had never left his side. At one point I heard the man talking in a low voice to which Kateland replied, "No sir. Don't apologize. I'll get this cleaned up, but first I need to step outside for a minute." I heard the wife say in a gentle voice, "Go, little one." Kateland stepped outside the door and pulled it closed. She leaned there and cried, shoulders shaking. Then she stopped, wiped her eyes, put a smile on her face and walked back in. Finally, on Tuesday after the holiday, he was taken to surgery and began to improve. Kateland couldn't save the man, but maybe she kept him going until the 'real' professional returned.

Dr. Jeffrey Lupica. Very large private practice as well as being a top surgeon. When I met him a few weeks ago he struck me as arrogant and egotistical. My two follow up appointments didn't change my mind. On Monday, the holiday, I was sitting in my room trying to feel better. Dr. Lupica walked in. Wearing a suit like he was visiting patients this day. He had no connection to my case this time. "Hey, doc. What are you doing here?" "I saw something on your chart that didn't seem right and I just wanted to check it out." Now you might say he was just making a quick buck. But he was reading my chart in the early hours of a holiday without even knowing I was in the hospital. There was no money in that. Has he saved lives reading charts at 5:30 in the morning? I would bet he has.

And then there was Jennifer Boreland. Quick witted and funny as all get out. A nurse with 30 years experience. She didn't need to be there. She ran the floor. She could have been with the kids and grandkids. Yet, she pulled a week of 12 hour days so younger nurses with kids could have days off. Closer in age, she and I had some conversations. She didn't have to push herself so hard, so why? "I lost my marriage, so maybe I can help one of mine save theirs. After all, to me it's just another day. But to them, it could be everything." Jennifer probably didn't save any lives that week, but maybe she saved a marriage.

Even Jesus needed rest. But He would go off and pray. We might be more rested if we did that rather than play. Maybe we could help save souls and marriages.