A Shepherd's Lesson

  There’s an old shepherd with five sheep dogs meandering about the side of a hill not far from where I’m sitting. The sheep seem well-behaved enough – none

At Castelnor, Romania

are nibbling their way lost at the moment. The dogs slowly saunter around the flock, making sure that they meander together, in one large herd. Occasionally the lead dog will stop, sit down, or maybe lie down, giving the rest of the herd a chance to catch up. The other dogs slowly, calmly walking around the outside of the herd keeping everyone together. And the Shepherd, he just moseys alongside the herd, carrying his stick, as if this is all routine, which I am pretty sure it is. Monotonously so, perhaps.

I have often thought of those images in scripture whenever I encounter such scenes in real life. And I think of the more familiar passages first – Psalm 23: “The LORD is my Shepherd; I shall not want.” Or sometimes I imagine the shepherd bending down to retrieve that one lone sheep, lifting it up onto his shoulders, and carrying it back to the fold. Maybe you have as well.

I imagine that little if anything has changed in the last 2,000 years or more. Shepherds guide their herds from one pastureland to another, day after day after day. The wind, a dog barking to scare away something it has perhaps heard, the bleating of the sheep as they trod along en masse, and of course the bell. That monotonous bell! 

        And yet, some how I believe it is somehow comforting to the sheep that this clanging noise is nearby.  There is an assurance that I’m not too far away, that there is safety in numbers, that the shepherd can still see me. “I AM the Good Shepherd. I know my own, and my own know me.”

It is hard to really dwell on these kinds of things in our fast-paced, urgent, “get-it-done-yesterday” world. We move so quickly through our lives, noticing something as slow-paced is most likely a blur on our way to somewhere else that we’re probably late for. And all the while, the Good Shepherd is looking for us – searching high and low, wondering where we’ve wandered off to this time. 

What does it take for us to slow down in our lives a bit? To take a break from the real monotony of trying to get ahead, or even stay above water? To actually look up from our fast-paced lives, listen for the Good Shepherd who is calling our name? Maybe there is something to this shepherding thing. Maybe we indeed “like sheep have all gone astray.” 

        Perhaps it’s time for us to once again rejoin the herd of Christian sisters and brothers, to follow the Good Shepherd, and to know what it means to “lie down in green pastures,” be led by the “still waters,” and know what it feels like to have Him “restore our souls.”

        See you in Church!

Need...

"I need a vacation."

"We need to add bread to the grocery shopping list..."

"I need to get the tires rotated and balanced on the car."

"You need to find a different hobby - needlepoint shouldn't be so dangerous."

Needs. They are all around us. Our world dictates that there are times when something falls short of expectations, and we find ourselves stopping what we're doing and entering into problem-solving mode. It happens all the time.

"The truck needs to be fixed if we're going to use it this weekend." 

"The kids need new shoes before school starts."

"I need to pay the rent/utilities/car payment/tuition/etc."

Sometimes, needs are not so routine and obvious. Occasionally, they're of a more serious nature...

"You really need to have that tooth looked at." 

"You need to make an appointment about that cough."

Needs come in all shapes and sizes; in all manner of importance. And yet there is one need that far surpasses them all. When it comes to our brokenness, pain, confusion, anxieties, our bodies, minds, and spirits - there is truly one need that outweighs them all. 

Jesus knew this. And he shared it a lot with those with whom he encountered. "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing" (Luke 10:41-42). 

I have travelled this journey of faith since my baptism in 1965 (and truly even before that through my parents' care to keep me in the company of believers). Along the way, I have found that it is easy to get distracted, to veer slightly off course, to become convinced that in order to continue the journey of faith, I need to accomplish this or acquire that. Detours are intrusive to remembering the primary issue of the faith - to keep Christ central in one's life.

As I have grown in the faith (admittedly, there is still a LOT of room to grow yet!), I have come to discern that there is truly only one need - and it always leads to the foot of the cross of Christ. I do not need a good moral teacher, although I have had many in my lifetime and I am thankful for each and everyone of them. I do not need a prophet who will point me in a new direction when I am stumbling around, even though at times I've needed a sign pointing me back to the pathway of faith. 

No, what I have come to believe is that there is only one thing that I absolutely NEED: I NEED a Savior. I cannot save myself from my sin. I cannot redeem myself from my failings with God. I cannot do it alone. And I cannot use a substitute - any substitute for God's grace in Jesus Christ. I will never be made right on my own. And the only pathway that will bring me wholeness is the one that leads me to the foot of the Cross of a Crucified Redeemer Jesus Christ.

In essence, I have learned through grace and truth that my task as a Christian is not to save anyone else from their sins - only Jesus can do that. But my task is simple: I am called to lead people to the Cross of Christ. I trust that God's Holy Spirit will provide the salvation, as truly only God can. I trust that Jesus' death on the cross, and his resurrection and ascension are truly enough for the salvation of the world. I trust that in bringing people to the Cross, God will bring to completion the work that was begun in each of us in Jesus Christ. It is not my own doing - it is God's and God's alone. My calling is to show people the way to the Cross. 

And the only reason I can do that is because someone did it for me. Truly this is all I will ever need. 

What about you? 

See you in Church.

The Main Thing...

 "The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing." - Stephen Covey (I think he said it; I cannot recall if it was original with him. Still, this saying has always resonated with me. Main things are so difficult to track these days. It is hard to keep the main thing in the forefront when there are so many other worthy distractions that clamor for our attention.

Like trying to focus on one event at a Three Ring Circus - we are confronted with a plethora of things happening right before our eyes. Clowns, elephants, horses with riders, daring young men on their flying trapezes, vendors hocking their wares of peanuts and popcorn, oversized brightly-colored cannons shooting helmet-clad daredevils high into the air across the canvas canopy of entertainment...There are so many things happening all around us - sights to see, noises to hear, and smells to, well,...smell. And all the while we are attempting to focus on one particular part of the show.

Our world is filled with circus-like atmospheres of entertainment, information, persuasive arguments, and commercially-designed enticements to capture, if not our harried attentions, at least our pocketbooks and wallets. Oftentimes it is even manifested through horrific and tragic events that not only capture our hearts, but also awaken fears that we thought had been buried so deeply within our psyches that we are shocked with they are dragged to the surface. And we wonder how can this happen? Especially here? Now? In this day and age?

But it has.

Again.

And once again, we are confronted with the onslaught of movements and arguments and cries, and calls for "something to be done!"

"How many more before we do something?" We see and hear it in the streets, those clamoring with a sense of absolute urgency to do something - anything - even if it is wrong - to make this nonsense stop.

And if we are brutally honest with ourselves - I mean, truly, deep-down, BRUTALLY HONEST - we can even agree. It must stop. This cannot go on. Enough is enough.

Arguments and debates rage once again - both sides calling for rational action that will make this senseless tragedy somehow end. Each perspective armed with statistics and slogans, arguments and polls, demonstrating just how foolish it is to accept this as the new norm. And they are both right. This is America. This is not some third-world country where fighting in the streets is seen day-in and day-out. This is the land of the free. This is the place where dreams can come true. This is the place where everyone should be able to grow up, work hard, and make a place for themselves. The outrage when lives are cut short is justified. This should not happen here.

But, again, it is difficult for us to remember: "The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing."

Emotions run rampant when we are accosted with such a moral outrage. We demand immediate action and justice. We demand changes.

We demand, because we are known as a people of action. A nation that gets results. It is in our DNA.

But, "...the main thing..." keeps coming back and haunting me. And the "main thing" I keep seeing is that we've completely turned a blind eye to the source of these crises.

We've forgotten how to care. We've stopped thinking of the "other". We've turned so far inward into our own little lives that we've neglected the soul who is searching for meaning right next to us.

A few weeks ago, I was watching a television show on automotive restoration. A team of mechanics were sent out to a home where the parents of a deceased veteran of the war in Afghanistan were wanting to restore their late son's car. The son had bought the car as a means of dealing with his Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which he had developed after his multiple tours of duty in war-torn Afghanistan. It was supposed to be therapeutic. It was going to help him return to "the real world" again by helping him get his mind off of his PTSD. Seemed like a good plan.

But the shadows kept haunting him. The nightmare wasn't going to be left behind him on the battlefield. It followed him. Everywhere.

And when a problem arose with this project car, or some other setback happened, he took his own life.

Like so many other soldiers who return home haunted by what they had experienced overseas.

I sat there crying. Watching a car show, I cried.

I cried for his parents. They were trying to save something from their beloved son's life that was positive, knowing that there were demons hiding in his heart and mind from the horrors of war, but also knowing that they had no idea just how scary those demons were. And so to honor his memory, they wanted to get this car running. As a tribute to him, and all that is good and noble in their son's life.

I sat crying because I cannot even begin to know or understand what those demons are like, or how absolutely dark those shadows are that can cloud out the brightest day. I do not know. I cried because I wanted so desperately to let that soldier know that there is a hope that can see him through that darkness, but totally ill-prepared to help as I have not been there myself. I cried because I do not want anyone to ever feel as though there is no hope.

And it dawned on me. The problem we have with our world today is not too many guns, nor even is it that we have turned our backs on those who struggle with the multitude of forms of mental illness. The problem is that we have forgotten how to offer people hope. We have forgotten how to talk with and listen to people who are struggling. We've forgotten how to care. We've forgotten that compassion is far greater than any drug that can be manufactured to help combat loneliness, despair, depression, anxiety, or any other affliction that can rob people of a sense of worth. We've forgotten how to relate to one another.

Scriptures are replete with teachings about the necessity of being in right relationships with God, others, and ourselves. When we put ourselves first, we find that the whole of creation gets out of balance. We push and shove; we elbow our ways through, around, and over others with little regard of what their world is like at that moment. We've forgotten that we are created to be in relationship with one another.

Instead, we hide behind "social" media (how is it truly "social" if we're not actually interacting with one another in person? We're just pushing buttons on a computer or tapping letters on a cellphone! That's not interpersonal!). We believe that because of the technology, we are freer to share what we really think - and damn the one who disagrees with us!

And that's where all this begins to break down. We've forgotten how to think about the other first. And truth be known, we've forgotten this because we've forgotten how to relate to the One who created us - who taught us simple ways to live, so that we'd learn to respect one another, honor one another, value one another.

What is missing in our culture today is not another law or set of laws restricting this or punishing that. What is missing is our ability - our willingness - to engage the other in compassion. We don't need another law. We need to care.

Mercy...

 

O Lord have mercy!

O Christ have mercy!

O Lord have mercy!

 

I pray this evening for a community who will never know the answers to the most basic, fundamental question: Why? Attempts will be made, offerings and reasons shared, opinions will be bandied about, but none will satisfy.

 

I pray for families that will never be the same again. For parents who were planning summer vacations and camps, but are now planning for funerals and memorials.

 

I pray for teachers and school administrators who have just begun to find some semblance of normalcy after having empty classrooms and desks from a pandemic, but who will now face empty desks for an entirely different reason.

 

I pray for trauma surgeons and medical teams who have had to deal with working on tiny bodies who have been torn apart by bullets, and then have to tell their families that there was just too much damage, too much blood-loss. "I'm sorry" just doesn't seem like it is ever enough.

 

I pray for churches and congregations where pastors, children's directors, and Sunday School teachers will struggle to be present for families that will never hear that laughter again.

 

I pray for all those who will play on the pain of such tragedy so that political statements and opinions will be raised, rather than choose to be with and comfort those whose lives have been so violently devasted in this despicable act.

 

And I pray for that one family that will struggle for the rest of their lives, second-guessing, broken-hearted, wondering why.

 

Lord, I pray. I pray not because I don't know what to do, but because I do not know where else I can go than to You, for You alone are holy.

 

Lord, in your mercy, hear my prayer. In Christ's holy name I pray. Amen.