This blog entry starts with a health update. I am not feeling well. More to the point, I really don’t feel well. It turns out that when I was in the hospital the second week in July, I was prescribed a couple of new prescriptions. Understandable. Doctors rarely wish to leave well enough alone. A week later I had to call an ambulance to the apartment because I was so sick. Back to the hospital. There they discovered that I had been prescribed two different types of antibiotics. The two combined had killed all the bacteria in my system, including the good bacteria which aids in digestion. So they took me off the antibiotics and sent me home. No real improvement for several days. And then, Wednesday night, Ed Fitch and Brian Chamberlain came by to see me. Dr. Brian suggested I eat some yogurt to jump start the digestive bacteria. Sounded like a good idea. He went over to then store and grabbed some. I was so sick I couldn’t eat anything just then, but I ate two containers at 4 AM and I do believe that I feel better. Brian should send a consultant bill into Medicare. I am not feeling the best, but I may be getting better. I know I miss everyone.

          The actual blog portion of this blog entry begins here, but is connected to medical, at least at the beginning. I am currently undergoing various tests and treatments at various doctor’s offices. The other day at Parkview/Huntington, I was sitting in a treatment room and the nurse suddenly looked up with recognition in her eyes. “I know who you are! You’re the new pastor at Urbana! I go to St. Paul’s County Line!” My response was, “Well, I am the pastor at Urbana, but I’ve been there for five years. When does ‘new’ end?”

          To me it is a legitimate question. When does ‘new’ end? In Ohio I had served at a church longer than any other pastor in that church’s 145 year history and one day I struck up a conversation with a man who snapped his fingers and said, “Yeah, sure, you’re the new pastor at Park Street Church!” When does ‘new’ end? I was going through the refrigerator at that same Park Street Church one day with the secretary sorting food that had been left for the Food Pantry. There was a jar of peanut butter that had been in the refrigerator since I had arrived at the church. I took it out, looked it over and told the secretary I was throwing it out. “You can’t throw it out!” “Why not? How long has it been there?” “Not for long.” “We have been using UPC seals for over twenty years. There is no UPC seal on this peanut butter jar.”

          I think the newness of something is dependent on perceptions. If we become used to something’s presence, it really isn’t old. The people who thought of me as the ‘new’ pastor had spent some time with the former pastor and still had him in mind. The pews in the church are old. They really are. But when you wander in and sit down, you do not think that they are old. You have spent considerable time with those pews. They cannot be old. However, pew manufacturers have designated twenty five years as the life span of a good pew. Of course, those are the manufacturers. You would expect that from them because they want to sell pews. Fifty years might be a little closer to the truth. I had asked the question at a previous church and got the answer that the pews were not that old. A little check showed them to be forty eight years old. A month later an entire family, three generations, came in just as we were starting and the pew snapped. Now, honestly, it was funny. Even more so when we found out no one was hurt. But what could have been?

          I think ‘new’ also is viewed by subject matter. Religion. There is the New Age Movement, which is now old. There are the Eastern Religions, which in the 1960s was wild and groovy, but now they are followed by old hippies. The Moonies, the Hare Krishna’s, the Universal Salvationists…..all had their new day, but have all grown old and weary now.

          You can do this with anything. Sports, movies, television, communication, medicine, whatever it might be grows old. It was great at the beginning, but now is outdated. So what is really new?

          I would point you to the Bible. Most would scoff and point out that it covers 4,000 years and the newest part is 2,000 years old. And that is true. But there is ‘new’ in the Bible; 2 Corinthians 5:17-21, Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to Himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making His appeal through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake He (God) made Him (Jesus) to be sin Who knew no sin, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.

          But that is old writing! Yes, but it carries a new thought to every generation. Christianity becomes old only when we let it become old. We hold onto the old thoughts as though they, themselves, were sacred. For me, as a child, church was a scary place. The wrath of God was awaiting you if you laughed. I do not remember talk of a ‘new creation’ and a ministry we all are a part of. There was a lot of damnation and hate. It is that thinking that the world sees and rejects. Let’s look at the above passage. We can become a new creation. We all have a ministry of reconciliation, which means we have a job to do of bringing people to Christ so they can be made whole in Him. There is no ‘down time’ in real Christianity. No Sunday Christians and do whatever during the week. But a real joy in service, for our service is to be loving people to Jesus.

          When I was in a very strict Bible college in Tennessee, we had a preacher in chapel tell us that hell was talked about seven times more in the Bible than heaven was, so we needed to make sure people understood their peril. And there is peril. Hell is real. But he told us an absolute lie. Hell is mentioned 54 times in the Bible, either as hell or sheol or hades. Heaven is mentioned over a thousand times, either as heaven or as the Kingdom or in some other fashion.

          So, let’s make the message new. It is all about redemption. Reconciliation. The Good News. In these dark, dark times, we need to show the new light of love.                                                                                                                       

           I am watching the events in Cuba with great interest for four reasons. First, having lived in Miami, Florida for several years, I got to know a lot of Cubans who had fled the island rather than be imprisoned or killed for either their faith or for their desire for democracy. These people passionately loved their country. Most said that when communism dies in Cuba (as it will, for communism/socialism will always feed on itself after it has exhausted everything else) they will return. Many of those people are dead now and their children and grandchildren are fully Americanized, but those older Cubans loved their island home.

          The second reason I am watching the current uprising is that much of the rising socialist feeling in this country looks to Cuba as the example of successful socialism. I am hoping that American socialist will wake up and see that Cuban socialism is just as evil as any other socialistic government ever. Several years ago I was talking to a young man who wanted this country to become socialist. He was a big Bernie Sanders fan. This young man told me that the US naval blockade was what was keeping Cuba from reaching its full potential. When I told him that the naval blockade ended in 1963, he would not believe me. But there isn’t a blockade. Cuba’s biggest trading partner is The European Union. They are free to trade with anyone except the US and US companies. Cuba’s ills come from socialism being socialism.

          The third reason I am watching this is a selfish reason. The Cubans are a great, energetic and honorable people. And they are fanatical baseball fans. We call baseball our national pastime, but for Cubans, it really is. They love the sport. They are my kind of people.

          The fourth reason, and most important reason, I am pulling for the protesters in Cuba is because these people have become an amazing people of faith. Not faith in an institution like the Catholic Church, but faith in the saving power of Jesus Christ. Under totalitarian regimes, institutions like the Catholic Church lose their luster. But the pureness of simple faith in Christ offers freedom we have a hard time imagining. Stories of great faith have been coming out of Cuba for decades. One of the great joys of my life has been to sit in groups and listen to stories (translated from Spanish) given to us by recently escaped Cubans about their faith in Jesus.

          I was an associate pastor at a church in Hialeah, Florida, which is part of the Miami Metro Area. Our church had the sanctuary first and then our ‘Spanish Mission’ had the sanctuary. The mission was about ten times larger than the Anglo church. Made sense. Hialeah was about 90% Spanish. Sometimes their sound man (name of Edwardo Fitchiaro) would not come in and I would stay over and do the sound for them. Typically I was lost as to what they were saying. These people talk fast. You may think you can speak Spanish, but you better have your ears tuned up. However, it was always a fascinating thing to watch those folks when they sang. Many of the songs were the same tunes as our hymns. The words are a little different than a direct translation to make them fit meter and rhyme, but very much the same. But there were a few songs that were totally different. People would start to weep. They would look to heaven with pleading eyes. They would tremble. One Sunday I took one of their hymnbooks home and found a couple of those songs. I had a Cuban friend translate. They were songs of freedom in Christ when there was no other freedom. Joy in the Lord when there was no other joy. They were songs of pure emotion, emotion spurred on by the grace of the Lord.  Very much like the Negro Spirituals of time past in this country. Touching on an emotion we cannot begin to feel. For us, Jesus Christ is common. For them, He is precious.

          All Americans should be cheering the Cubans on. All Christians should ben praying for the Cuban Christians. I want you to think about the passion and hope in this sign seen at a protest:

Si nos oedamos callados

Nos matan! Si hablamos

Nos Matan! Entonces

Hemos decidido Hablar para!

No morir callados!! S.O.S.

The translation is, IF WE STAY SILENT, THEY KILL US! IF WE SPEAK, THEY KILL US! SO WE HAVE DECIDED TO SPEAK SO WE DON’T DIE SILENT! S.O.S.

          Could you live like that? These are people who need prayer.

           Good morning folks. I pray that you have a wonderful week.

          This posting of my blog fills two purposes. The first, and least important on my mind right now, is my health. My hospital stay last week didn’t really tell me much I didn’t already know. I have A-fib. The uneven beating of my heart causes a number of problems, chief of which is fluid retention. They are working on the fluid retention. I had a cardiologist appointment scheduled for August 11 before I went into the hospital. That appointment has been moved all the way up to…..August 11. The difference now is, the first August 11 appointment would have been a consultation to get the ball rolling. Now the ball is rolling, so by the August 11 appointment I will have several tests already done. It is frustrating, but I suppose it is necessary. Meantime, my energy level is very low and my frustration level is quite high. Another lifelong friend has passed away. Her funeral is today. I cannot go. So, I am frustrated. I do want to thank Barry Swanquist for being my taxi service last week and Brian Chamberlain for filling in for me on Sunday. And I would remind all of you men of the Bible study on Thursday night at 6:30, presented by Barry.

          But enough of that. On to the second purpose of this blog. I want to start by saying I absolutely despise people who claim to be ‘faith leaders’ and then use that platform to talk politics. The purpose of being a ‘faith leader’ is to lead people to faith in Jesus Christ. There is nothing wrong with talking politics. Just do not try and link Christ to the discussion. During the time of Jesus the whole area of Judea was seething with political intrigue and unrest. The furthest Jesus went into politics was to say that we give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and we give to God what is God’s. He also called the scribes and the Pharisees a generation of vipers, but that was not a political statement. The scribes and the Pharisees were the faith leaders of the day, and they were involving themselves into politics.

          Again, talking politics is not wrong. Just don’t try to claim that your political belief is also God’s political belief. I try and steer clear of the whole political debate scene because it is important that people see me as an instrument of the Lord.

          Having said that, I am now putting the ‘Pastor’ part of who I am aside. If you have no desire to deal with politics, please quit reading. The views and opinions contained in this blog do not necessarily reflect those of then staff or management of Urbana Yoke Parish. On Friday we will return to our regularly scheduled program. For now, I am greatly offended that the Vice President of the United States of America has suggested that rural Americans are idiots.

          I have been around big city folk when they venture into what they like to call ‘Americana.’ Their concept of rural America. Norman Rockwell paintings. Rustic America. They are amazed at the simple folk they meet. The slower pace of life. In their minds they envision Pa out in the field and Ma churning butter on the porch. John-Boy out in the barn milking ole Bessie and Mary Elizabeth hand feeding the chickens. Simple folks with simple minds. That is what they see because that is what they believe is out there. Maybe John-Boy and Mary Elizabeth have gotten to the eighth grade, but they need go no further. Simple folk don’t really need education.

          In 2007 I was scheduled to speak at a church in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Lancaster is famous for its Amish population and the Amish population there makes full economic use of that. In the couple of days leading up to the Sunday I was to speak, Marsha and I drove around to look at the countryside. It was Father’s Day weekend, so the crops were in and growing nicely. The farm boy in me appreciated the neatness of the farms and the hard work put into that neatness. Out on a country road we came to the top of a hill and had to stop. Two big tour buses were in the process of parking in the farm yard of an Amish home. The husband/father was directing the buses in while the wife/mother was standing on the porch watching the parking while drying her hands on her apron. The teenaged son was across the road in a small field plowing behind a beautiful draft horse. One of the buses was parked already and the riders had left the bus and were taking videos and pictures of the boy. I started laughing. Marsha asked me what was so funny. Understand, Marsha was, and is, a city girl. She didn’t see it. The middle of June. Crops are in and growing. Yet, here is a teenaged Amish lad plowing a field that has already been plowed, probably many times. He was doing it for the sake of the tourists. It was a small field. They were making a lot more off of it by repeatedly plowing it than if they actually planted anything. Smart city folk.

          While the smart city folk might enjoy their strolls into Americana, they have a very low opinion of the inhabitants. In the last presidential campaign a democratic operative suggested that farm folk are farmers because of low intelligence. They simply cannot rise above their environment. They are easily led by crackpots. Perhaps they shouldn’t even be allowed to vote. Many believe in God. Most own guns. Almost all feel the Constitution holds as much weight now as it did back in 1700s. Clearly simple minded folk.

          So what did the Vice President say? In an interview with BET News (BET used to refer to the Black Entertainment network, until it became public knowledge that BET was wholly owned and operated by white folk. Now BET stands for Breaking Entertainment. You cannot make this stuff up) the Vice President was arguing against voter ID laws. This is what she said, “I don't think that we should underestimate what that compromise on voter ID laws could mean. Because in some people's mind, that means you're going to have to Xerox or photocopy your ID to send it in to prove who you are. Well, there are a whole lot of people, especially people who live in rural communities, who don't –well, there's no Kinkos, there's no OfficeMax near them. Of course people have to prove who they are, but not in a way that makes it almost impossible for them to prove who they are." So she wants voter ID laws relaxed because rural Americans have no way to photocopy their IDs. Isn’t that sweet?

          Big city folks, well educated, all worried about us ignorant yokels. I wonder if she realizes that Kinkos no longer exists. It was absorbed by Fed EX years ago. I also wonder if she realizes that Office Max has severely cut back on their copy stores (Copy Max). The reason for that is because so many Americans have printers for their computers that double as photocopiers. Photocopying an ID is a simple process. (if you need, I can copy your ID for you on my printer for a low, low cost) Yes, we simple folk are struggling to get into the 21^st century.

          What really burns me is that these pompous liberals really believe this tripe. We are uneducated and low intelligence. The Vice President served, politically, in San Francisco. She must be smart because San Franciscans are smart. I consider our congregation a decent representation of the overall community. Just in our congregation, the percentage of adults who have some college education is higher than San Francisco’s percentage. The Vice President’s education is good, but not outstanding. The percentage of crime and homelessness and addiction is way higher than here. If you earn $50,000 a year here and live OK, you would need to earn $96,593 to have a comparable life style there. And this one gets me; Wabash County has an earthquake rate 21% above the national average while San Francisco’s rate is 7368% above the national average. Yes. 7368% above national average. How is it that they are so much smarter than we are?

          I have lived in urban America. I have lived (and grew up in) rural America. The first time I saw skyscrapers, I thought, “Why?” And I wonder why those people in urban America are considered so smart while rural Americans are so stupid. Remember it was the smart people who built the building in South Florida that collapsed and killed around 150 people. It was the smart people who wrote the laws that ultimately allows the homeless to defecate on the streets of the big cities. It is the smart people who are defunding the police. It is the smart people who are intent on creating a paradise for non-producers by heaping more and more financial obligation on those who do produce. Likewise, it is the simple minded Americans who respect things like gravity and foundation when we build. It is the simple minded who exhibit charity and do all we can for the homeless. It is the simple minded who respect the police and appreciate their work. It is the simple minded who believe the worker is worth his wage and the one who doesn’t work, out of choice, doesn’t eat.

          But, maybe the whole country is crazy. We elected these elitist people who believe we rural folks cannot get an ID copied. How dumb is that?   

             

   

     Good morning, folks. As most of you know, I spent the week in the hospital. Not the most fun I have had, but necessary. So, I have no new blog. However, I have wanted to re-post a particular for a while. And so, from years ago...........Y'all ghave a great weekend!

            Everyone has some physical issue that they live with. When we are younger we just breeze right through it, but as we get older it begins to become a real road block in our lives. Some of the physical issues come on for the first time as we get older. Except for back pain, I was wonderfully healthy until I hit 48. Now, although my back pain has gradually gotten worse, I rarely think of it because of the many new health problems I face. Getting older is not a piece of cake.

          There is an issue I have had my entire life, although I wasn’t aware of it until I was in my mid-twenties. Always, after church, I had a brutal headache. When Marsha and I went for a drive, I would have a headache. If we went to a high school football game, I came home with a headache. Marsha became concerned and made me go to the doctor. He sent me to an audiologist and she checked my hearing. It turned out that whenever there is a musical note played, I hear it in one key in my right ear and in another key in my left. The resulting clash of noise always gave me a headache. The music in church, the music Marsha would play on the radio, the marching band music at a football game, all give me headaches. I had always disliked music. It never made much sense to me and I couldn’t, for the life of me, see what it was everyone found so wonderful about music. Over the years my brain had isolated the correct note that was playing, I suppose, by locking into whatever other people were singing, and I learned to follow in singing what my right ear was telling me, but I still had the headache. Of course, I married someone who loves music.

          As in all things, though, there is a blessing. For me, I have always been very locked into the lyrics of a song. If I concentrate on the words, the music doesn’t seem to bother me as much, at least not at that moment. I enjoy traditional music because there was a great emotional feeling that went into the words. The theology of the old songs is sometimes skewed, (There is no fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel’s veins. That song terrified me as a child. I didn’t want to be plunged beneath that flood of blood, even if it meant losing all my guilty stain) but the intensity of feeling is there. I enjoy contemporary music because it very often uses actual Scripture in the lyrics and tends to be true to the Scripture. The music, though, makes me miserable.

          The little country church we went to for a few years when I was in elementary school would have a Gospel sing one Sunday night a month. I always dreaded it without knowing why. But that is where I really learned the old songs. The words fascinated me. On the way home in the family car the conversation was about Sister Tilley’s horrible piano playing or how bad Brother John sounded or how good Dickie and Dottie sounded, both with their singing and guitar playing. But, I kept running the words through my mind. All the music, including Dickie and Dottie, was bad to me.

          This past Sunday our church had the 4 the Light Quartet play at our outdoor service. I am sure they were very good. Everyone seemed to really enjoy it. My interest, though, was the words to the songs. And I wasn’t disappointed.

          Their second song was “Just a Little Talk with Jesus,” which everyone loves for its quick beat and its bass part. All of it is great, but the first verse and chorus is this:

I once was lost in sin but Jesus took me in
And then a little light from heaven filled my soul
It bathed my heart in love and it wrote my name above
And just a little talk with my Jesus made me whole

Now let us have a little talk with Jesus, let us  tell him all about our troubles
He will hear our fainted cry and He will answer by and by
Now when you feel a little prayer wheel turning then you’ll know a little fire is burning
You will find a little talk with Jesus makes it right.

          What could be better than that? For me, the words are just awesome!

          They sang another song from those old Sunday night sings, “I Saw the Light,” and they explained the origins of the song, which is something I love, to hear the origins of a song.

I have wandered so aimless life filed with sin
I wouldn't let my dear Savior in
Then Jesus came like a stranger in the night
Praise the Lord I saw the light

I saw the light, I saw the light
No more darkness, no more night
Now I'm so happy no sorrow in sight
Praise the Lord I saw the light

          Can’t you just see a wondering, lost soul? Not even realizing he was lost until the Light of Jesus shone down upon him. Praise the Lord, he saw the light!

          Then they sang a song that I have always kept the words to in my heart. This World is not My Home:

This world is not my home I'm just a passing through
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue
The angels beckon me from heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore
Oh Lord you know I have no friend like you
If heaven's not my home then Lord what will I do
The angels beckon me from heaven's open door
And I can't feel at home in this world anymore.

I guess that what it  is that draws me to this song is the sure knowledge that all the struggle, all the disappointments, all the pain of this world is just a passing thing. The older I get, the more blessed heaven seems and the more disagreeable this world is for me.

They sang 18 songs altogether, including my favorite song of all.

Victory in Jesus:

I heard an old, old story,
How a Savior came from glory,
How He gave His life on Calvary
To save a wretch like me;
I heard about His groaning,
Of His precious blood's atoning,
Then I repented of my sins
And won the victory.

O victory in Jesus,
My Savior, forever.
He sought me and bought me
With His redeeming blood;
He loved me ere I knew Him
And all my love is due Him,
He plunged me to victory,
Beneath the cleansing flood.

Yes, it ends with being plunged beneath the blood, but even as a kid, even before I was saved, the words always lifted me up. It is one of the few songs that brings me to tears. Everything He went through, He went through for me. Now I, and all who believe, have the victory!

          Listen to the words of the songs you sing. Let the words stir you, rather than the music. Words are where the lasting power resides. Enjoy!