A Story of Grace

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. (Ephesians 2:8-10 ESV). I never tire of hearing about the grace of God. It is the heart of the gospel. Unfortunately in our culture it is difficult to understand. We live in a society that prizes independence and “earning your way.” While that is a good trait in the world, it does not apply to the relationship that is ours in Christ. I found the following story recently and it illustrates this truth. A mother of a 9-year-old boy, Mark, received a phone call in the middle of the afternoon. It was the teacher from her son's school. "Mrs. Smith, something unusual happened today in your son's third grade class. Your son did something that surprised me so much that I thought you should know about it immediately." Mother's seldom want to hear from their child's teacher in the middle of the day. The mother was uneasy and nervous by such a beginning to a phone call. "What now?" the mother wondered. The teacher continued, "I have been teaching for many years and nothing like this has happened until now. This morning I was teaching a lesson on creative writing. And as I always do, I tell the story of the ant and the grasshopper. The ant works hard all summer and stores up plenty of food. But the grasshopper plays all summer and does no work. Then winter comes. The grasshopper begins to starve because he has no food. So he hops to the ant’s house and begins to beg. 'Please Mr. Ant, you have much food please let me eat, too.' Now boys and girls your job is to write the ending to the story. Your son, Mark, raised his hand. "Teacher, may I draw a picture?" "Well, yes, Mark, if you like, you may draw a picture. But first you must write the ending to the story." The papers came in. As in all the years past, most of the students said that the ant shared his food through the winter and both the ant and the grasshopper lived. As always, a few children said, 'The ant said, "No, Mr. Grasshopper. You should have worked in the summer and not played. Now, I have just enough food for myself." So the ant lived and the grasshopper died. But your son ended the story in a way different from any other child, ever. He wrote, "So the ant gave all of his food to the grasshopper; the grasshopper lived through the winter. But the ant died." And the picture? At the bottom of the page, Mark had drawn three crosses. "Jesus gave up his life so that we might live eternally." That’s grace!

Up a Tree

For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. (Romans 8:15-17 ESV). I read the following excerpt from an article by Nicole Achs Freeling, titled “The Learning Tree”: The top of a 90-foot-tall Southern white oak may be a great place to spend the night if you're a cardinal or a blue jay. But it's not exactly the place you'd expect to see a group of, say, Internet executives setting up camp. Not, that is, unless you're a fan of the emerging sport of tree climbing, a pursuit that takes the childhood passion of hoisting oneself into a favorite tree's branches to new and sometimes extreme heights. "It's a mystical experience," says certified arborist Peter Jenkins, founder of Atlanta-based Tree Climbers International, which teaches a climbing course that takes people to points among the canopy from 60 to 200 feet high. "The wind comes up and stirs the tree, like it's speaking to you. It's about being with nature, and being with yourself." I have climbed in a few trees in my life. Usually they were equipped with ladder rungs and topped with a platform of some sort. They always were used to gain a sight advantage while deer hunting. I must admit that sitting alone in a tree and listening to nature wake up around me is a very refreshing experience. I thoroughly enjoy the quiet time of reflection it provides. God is very real to me in those moments. Perhaps that’s the kind of “mystical experience” Mr. Jenkins is talking about in his explanation of this new “sport.” Regardless, it does point us to the truth that there is a need within all of us to get in touch with the Divine. This is the heart of Paul’s instruction contained in our reading this morning. God has made it possible for us to call to him as a child to their father: “The Holy Spirit speaks to us deep in our hearts.” It is in that experience that we may understand the many facets of our relationship with God. I have noticed that many people never grow in their relationship with God. To them he is no more than some mystical being far removed from their daily experience. God’s desire is to be known as he knows. He desires us to let the presence of the Holy Spirit grow in us to the point that we become the closest of friends. What kind of friendship can be nurtured with only moments together separated by lengthy absences? Perhaps you need to climb a tree, or merely get alone in a quiet place. Either way, find God and experience his voice speaking to you. It will surprise you how much he will tell you about himself. He is not hidden from you, though you do have to look for him.

The Five and Dime

Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. (Romans 12:11, ESV). The seven last words of a dying organization are: “we’ve never done it that way before.” I have been a part of such groups. No matter how logical the proposal these groups cannot overcome their fear of the unknown. They become stagnant and eventually lose their ability to grow. It is the first stages of organizational death. A similar principle applies in individuals. If you convince yourself that it can’t be done, it won’t! Some years ago an energetic young man began as a clerk in a hardware store. Like many old-time hardware stores, the inventory included thousands of dollars' worth of items that were obsolete or seldom called for by customers. The young man was smart enough to know that no thriving business could carry such an inventory and still show a healthy profit. He proposed a sale to get rid of the stuff. The owner was reluctant but finally agreed to let him set up a table in the middle of the store and try to sell off a few of the oldest items. Every product was priced at ten cents. The sale was a success and the young fellow got permission to run a second sale. It, too, went over just as well as the first. This gave the young clerk an idea. Why not open a store that would sell only nickel and dime items? He could run the store and his boss could supply the capital. The young man's boss was not enthusiastic. "The plan will never work," he said, "because you can't find enough items to sell at a nickel and a dime." The young man was disappointed but eventually went ahead on his own and made a fortune out of the idea. His name was F. W. Woolworth. Years later his old boss lamented, "As near as I can figure it, every word I used in turning Woolworth down has cost me about a million dollars!" One of the age-old killers of enthusiasm is: "It can't be done." But if the idea is creative and comes from God, it can be done! It may not be easy, but it can be done. Wayne Gretzky said, “You miss 100 percent of the shots you never take.” Do you remember the story of the disciples coming in after a night of fishing and not having caught anything? Jesus directs them to go out again and cast their nets again in the same spot they were so unsuccessful earlier (cf. John 21:1-8). I wonder if you have quit too soon? Perhaps you need to cast your net one more time! If the Lord has directed you to do something, keep at it. Success will be yours!

A New Room

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. (Proverbs 17:17 ESV). From time to time I get wonderful stories from some of my readers. This one is so good, I had to pass it on today. It comes from Joe Edwards. It is lengthy, but well worth the read. Luther had been home from the war nearly four months, now, and worked at the Carnation Milk plant in Mt. Vernon where his wife, Jenny, worked. This morning he was in the little Miller cafe next door to the post office waiting for the mail to be "put up". Sitting across from him in the booth was his old friend, Fred Hill. They were discussing the war which was still going on in the Pacific Theatre. Recruitment posters still lined the walls of the little cafe. Fred had not been in the service, because when the war started in 1941, his parents had been in very poor health; his father with a bad heart, and his mother with cancer. He was needed at home to care for them and operate the farm. His parents had since died, and the farm was now his -- his and Maggie's. When Luther, Fred's best friend since childhood, had flown over Miller in the B-17, and when the bodies of the Hobbs boys and Billie Martin had been shipped home, and when Perry came home with hooks where his hands should have been, Fred felt guilty. He felt he had not done his part for the war effort, and in his own eyes, he was diminished. But today, it was Luther who seemed depressed. Fred asked him what was bothering him. "You seem down in the dumps, today, Luther," he said. "I can't see what could be botherin' you. You came through the war without a scratch, you got a beautiful wife and a baby on the way, you got a good job, what's the problem?" "Jenny's mother is in bad shape," said Luther. "We're going to have to take her in, and with the baby coming we don't have the room." "Can't build a room on?" asked Fred. "No lumber available," said Luther. "I've tried here, Mt. Vernon, Springfield, Joplin, and there won't be any more shipments for the duration. Who knows how long that will be?" "Tried Will's sawmill?" "Yeah, but he just saws oak, and it's green. The baby'll be here in August, and we can't wait for the lumber to dry. Besides, you can't build a whole room out of oak, anyway." "Wouldn't want to," said Fred. "Reckon the mail's up?" "Probably." The two young men left the cafe and went into the post office next door. Buford Patten, the postmaster, had raised the door to the service window, signaling that the mail was in the boxes. Luther and Fred retrieved their mail and left -- Luther to work at Mt. Vernon, and Fred back to the farm. That evening, Fred finished the milking and sat on the front porch with Maggie. "Days are gettin' longer," he said. "Man could get half a day's work done after five o'clock." "Better put your Pa's car up," said Maggie. "Radio says rain tonight." Fred's father had bought a new 1941 Ford just before his first heart attack, and the car was now Fred's. He had built a new garage for it just before Christmas, and tonight he congratulated himself on getting it built before the lumber ran out. He didn't even know it had, until Luther told him this morning. Fred drove the car into the new garage and latched the door. He walked back around the house to the front porch. Something was nagging at his mind, but he couldn't define it. He shook it off and sat on the porch with Maggie until darkness fell. They could see heat lightning in the West, and the wind started to rise. They went in the house to listen to the news of the war on the radio, and shortly went to bed. The next morning, Fred again drove his pickup into Miller for the mail. The air was fresh and clear now, the rain having washed it clean. The sun was shining, and he felt good. When he reached the cafe, Luther was there ahead of him. "Still haven't found any lumber, I guess?" "No, I asked everybody at work, and nobody knows of any. I don't know what we'll do." Now the nagging in Fred's mind defined itself. "I found the lumber for you," he said. "You did? Where?" Luther was delighted. "Fella I know. He'll let you have it free, you bein' a veteran and all. He doesn't seem to want you to know who he is, so I'll have to haul it in for you. It's good lumber, fir and pine, cut different lengths and got nails in it, but that's no problem. Tell you what, you get your foundation poured, and I'll bring you a pickup load everyday and help you build it. We'll have it done before the baby gets here." "That's a friend for you," Luther said to himself, as he drove to Mt. Vernon. That evening he came home with sacks of cement in his pickup. Luther dug and poured the foundation, and when it was ready for the footings, he told Fred. "Fine," said Fred, "I'll bring the first load over and be there when you get home from work." Fred appeared every evening with a load of lumber, and the two men worked until it was too dark to see. Sometimes Maggie came too, and the women sat in the house listening to the radio or talking about babies or Jenny's ailing mother, their sentences punctuated by the sound of the hammers outside. Over the next few weeks the new room took shape and was finished and roofed. "Where did you get the shingles?" asked Luther. "Same fella," answered Fred. "He's got all kinds of stuff." Luther didn't push. Lots of older folks liked to help out the young veterans anonymously. It was common. It was done! The women fixed the room up inside, and moved Jenny's mother in. The men went back about their business. At supper one evening, Luther told Jenny he would like to do something nice for Fred and Maggie, since they had been so helpful with the new room. "I know," said Jenny, brightly. "Maggie likes those big wooden lawn chairs like Aunt Birdie has on her lawn. Why not get them a couple of those?" "Good idea," agreed Luther, and the next Saturday he bought a couple at Callison's hardware and loaded them into his pickup. When he got out to Fred's farm, there was no one home, Fred and Maggie having gone into Springfield, shopping. "That's ok," Luther thought, "I'll just put them in the garage in case it rains." He drove around the house and into the driveway that led to Fred's new garage. The garage was gone. Only the foundation remained to show where it had been. Luther put the chairs on the front porch and drove home, tears in his eyes. The two men are now in their mid-seventies, and are still the best of friends. They never spoke of the incident. How could they? There was nothing to say.

Instructions for the Tabernacle

“Moreover, you shall make the tabernacle with ten curtains of fine twined linen and blue and purple and scarlet yarns; you shall make them with cherubim skillfully worked into them. The length of each curtain shall be twenty-eight cubits, and the breadth of each curtain four cubits; all the curtains shall be the same size. Five curtains shall be coupled to one another, and the other five curtains shall be coupled to one another. And you shall make loops of blue on the edge of the outermost curtain in the first set. Likewise you shall make loops on the edge of the outermost curtain in the second set. Fifty loops you shall make on the one curtain, and fifty loops you shall make on the edge of the curtain that is in the second set; the loops shall be opposite one another. And you shall make fifty clasps of gold, and couple the curtains one to the other with the clasps, so that the tabernacle may be a single whole. (Exodus 26:1-6 ESV). In our reading today, we are told how God gave His instructions to the Israelites concerning the construction of the Tabernacle. If you continue reading in this chapter you will find other instructions as to the clothing for the priests. He gave specific commands for this endeavor. God spared no beauty, time or workmanship on His special dwelling place. He called for the finest linen, decorated with color and embroidered with cherubim. A great amount of gold and silver would enhance the beauty of the construction, and gemstones would be set in the priests' vest. The garments for the priest were called to be "made beautifully, which would lend dignity to the priests' work." God then told how He equipped the craftsmen, and "filled them with the Spirit of God" and gave them special skills to do the job at hand. Today, our bodies are the temple of God. He spared no beauty, time or workmanship on His special dwelling place. We have been made in His image, and I believe He wants us to shine for Him, inside and out! The instructions regarding outer clothing are easy. They should adhere to standards that conform with those of the priests' of long ago. This does not mean that we cannot wear casual clothing, but that we should wear clothing that does not interfere with the task of representing Christ to others. Wearing gold, silver, or jewelry with gemstones does not deter from our mission of spreading the good news of Jesus Christ. He has equipped us, just as He did those early craftsmen with the power of the Holy Spirit and special gifts and skills to use for Him. I am so glad to be reminded that our God enjoys things of beauty from a spectrum of color to embroidery, to jewels. However, we ought to also pay attention to how we are clothed inside. This is the clothing of character. Truth and integrity are the easiest characteristics to notice. And, yet they seem to be some of the hardest to develop. There are other beautiful jewels to use in the development of our inner clothing. These are things like loyalty, love, and understanding. Others accompany these, like patience and kindness. What does your tabernacle look like?

Happy Birthday, David!

The Lord your God who goes before you will himself fight for you, just as he did for you in Egypt before your eyes, and in the wilderness, where you have seen how the Lord your God carried you, as a man carries his son, all the way that you went until you came to this place.’ (Deuteronomy 1:30-31 ESV). Happy Birthday Dave! Today, my son David is 34 years old. I really don’t know where the time went! And it causes me to reminisce a little. Those thoughts I won’t bore you with; however, with a little research I discovered that another interesting event took place on April 2nd. The Radio sitcom Life of Riley debuted on this day in 1941. The show starred William Bendix as a bullheaded family man. The show ran for 10 years on radio and about six years on television. Chester A. Riley was sort of an American everyman who worked at the local aircraft plant with his buddies in California. He got into some really funny situations usually based on some crazy misunderstandings. His attractive loving wife, Peg, was the voice of reason in the family, and kept Riley from totally getting out of control. His son, Junior, sometimes counteracted what his father said to add to the comedy. Babs, his daughter, tolerated but always loved her bumbling father, who always had the best intentions. Jim Gillis, was Riley's best friend, his neighbor, and co-worker at the aircraft plant. His wife was Honeybee, who at times could be outspoken. It was among the top twenty-five most watched programs in the fifties. The catchphrase developed by Bendix for this character is perhaps the most remembered from the series. When Riley found himself overwhelmed by seemingly small matters often escalated to near disaster he would say, “What a revoltin’ development this is!” Of course, Peg would step in about that time and bring calm and order to the situation. All of my children have taught me many things. In fact, they still cause me to stand in awe of the wonderful gifts they are from God. There are times when the simplest experiences become the most profound teachers. Just like the character in the Life of Riley I might find myself thinking that something is an insurmountable problem and God uses it as an opportunity to be the presence of calm and bring success to it. That thought brought me to today’s reading. God is a warrior on our behalf. Just as he cared for the nation of Israel throughout the wilderness experience, he cares for us. And he will care for you also. The key is trust. Throughout these nearly three and one-half decades I have found that in good times or bad, God has never left us. While the outcome may not have looked liked I anticipated God’s blessing always far exceeded any thoughts I might have had. He has cared for us in so many ways; it is hard to count them all! I can’t wait to see the next thirty-four years! Happy Birthday, Dave!

A Happy Easter

Now after the Sabbath, toward the dawn of the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. And behold, there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. And for fear of him the guards trembled and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead, and behold, he is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him. See, I have told you.” So they departed quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. And behold, Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came up and took hold of his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me.” (Matthew 28:1-10 ESV). They were desperate to keep Jesus in the tomb! All they needed was three days, and then they could prove a lie to all He said. Just three short days, and it would make mockery of Jesus and His claims of Messiah. Three days would prove them right and Him wrong. There was no question that Jesus was dead. They had seen to that. They were there when He was crucified. They were there when He cried out, "My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?" They were there when He said, "It is finished!" O yes, they were there. They were there when the Centurion certified that He was dead, satisfying Roman law. They were there when Joseph of Arimathea took His body down from the cross, satisfying Jewish law. They were there when He was wrapped with hundreds of yards of linen and coated with spices and perfume. They were there when He was placed in the tomb. O yes, they were there. They were there when the huge oval stone was placed in front of the tomb. They were there when the workmen secured the stone with mortar. They were there when the grave was sealed. They were there when the guards were placed before the tomb. O yes, they were there. They had made it impossible for a live man to get in, and a dead man to get out. Thus, by their own hands they proved beyond all doubt that only God could leave the tomb! And He did! Centuries have come and gone, and time has dulled the miracle of that Easter morn. We celebrate a day, the early church celebrated a Life. It would do us well to forsake the day, and embrace the Life. No matter what men say, the cross is barren and the tomb empty.