One Real Answer

 Good morning and welcome.

 As I write this on Wednesday afternoon, at least three are dead and many more are injured in a shooting at a Catholic school in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

Evidently, from what we know as of this writing, a gunman opened fire on a mass being held at the school.  He apparently fired through windows indiscriminately at children and adults who were attending the mass.  He then killed himself.

I’m saying at the outset of this thought that I don’t know the answers.  I don’t even know the questions to ask.  I don’t know if there are any real answers…other than, perhaps, one.  And we’ll get to that a little later in the video.

And I also want you to understand that this kind of thing is absolutely horrid…an affront to the very fiber of society…and an act that dehumanizes us all…deprives us all of the dignity and respect that should naturally come with the fact that we are human.

There are obvious socio-political factors involved here.  Mental health care and services, the breakdown of the family unit, poverty, laws that govern gun ownership, involuntary commitment laws, and a host of other social, legal, and political factors & issues all play into the responses to these kinds of assaults on society.  Sometimes the partisan rhetoric drowns out any attempt to make any substantial changes that may lessen the incidence of these kinds of tragedies, because we all have our soap boxes.  And we obviously believe OUR soap box is the correct one (otherwise, we wouldn’t be standing on it…we’d be on a different one).  Additionally, we not only believe we need not listen to other points of view, but we feel the need to drown out those viewpoints which are espoused by others that may not agree with ours.

I’ve heard all kinds and all manner of possible solutions.  Most of those solutions are at best simplistic and unworkable in my view, but many people hang their hats on them and believe they are the thing that will save us from ourselves.  And that may well be the crux of the whole matter…we are trying to save ourselves from ourselves.

Throughout human history we have been doing it that way.  We get ourselves into trouble…then believe if we just do this thing or that thing, we can get ourselves out of trouble and begin living in some kind of fairyland world where unicorns and rainbows are everywhere, and there’s not a care to be found.

I said at the beginning that I thought that perhaps there was indeed one answer…one that would go far in relieving the trials and tribulations of our common societal ills.  I’d like to share my thought with you.

First, we need to recognize that we cannot possibly save ourselves FROM ourselves.  Human beings are a marvelous and wondrous creation of God, but human beings are also irreparably flawed…destined to succumb to the temptations thrust upon us and powerless to, on our own, overcome them.

Having said that, I think some of you may know where this is going.

Second, there is a way out.  Even though we can’t save ourselves, the God who created us, loves us, and understands us DID make a way out.  God in the person of Jesus Christ has set us free from the power of evil and death.  He has given us, by means of His grace and mercy, a way to escape the horrid mess we humans have created for ourselves.

I’m here to tell you that Jesus Christ is indeed the answer….the only answer that makes any sense at all.

Yes, there will still be mental illness.  There will still be people who do things they shouldn’t.  There will still be the need for police.  There will still be the need for laws.  But just think how things could be different if we all took to heart the command to love our neighbor, and did the best we could to honor that command.

Or the command to do to others as you would like for them to do to you.

Or the command to love God with all one’s heart, soul, mind, and strength.

Think for a moment how societal acceptance of and devotion to those commands would change how we deal with mental health issues, with those who are hurting, with those who are poor, hungry, or neglected.

Think what might happen should we get serious about what our Creator has said to us…taught us…and shown us.

Converting the world to Jesus isn’t in our individual job descriptions.  But demonstrating the love of Jesus and letting others know about His power to save IS in our care.  And we do that, not necessarily with a crowd of thousands, but rather most of the time just one person at a time.  Just one.  One at a time.

The hurt is real.  The tragedy is unthinkable.  We struggle to capture even a glimpse of the answer to why.  Jesus said, “Come unto me all you who are heavy laden…and I will give you rest.”  Maybe we need to take  Him up on that.

May God Bless Us...Every One

 Good morning and welcome.

 This past week has been especially intense at times.  As you may know, I deal with a lot of the benevolence that the church does for folks, both members and non-members.  One of the things I do with those who ask for help is try to engage them in conversation, asking them about their day, their family, and life in general.  It usually doesn’t take much prompting for the floodgates to open, and I often hear things that make me wonder just how people survive in today’s world.  And it’s good, I think, for them to be able to tell their stories to someone who  listens without judgment.

Sometimes, these encounters are especially intense, and sometimes come one right after another.  When the day is over, I am tired and worn, not from physical exertion, but from mental and emotional exhaustion.  Such was the day on Monday of this week.

The next day, a member of our congregation asked me how I was doing.  I told her that I was OK, but not great.  I told her that I had dealt with some difficult encounters the day before.  She then strongly encouraged me to sit down and visit with her.  I knew she wouldn’t rest until I did so, and because I knew she was familiar with confidentiality and all that goes with it, I found a chair and sat across from her.

After some initial conversation regarding the encounters on Monday, she asked me how I manage to maintain my faith, especially on days when things are emotionally intense and there seem to be no answers.  She knew that my work often consists of listening to someone describe their life that is falling apart, or perhaps life has already fallen apart for them, and they need some basic thing such as food or shelter.  Or maybe it consists of providing not only a listening ear, but also whatever lay-counseling I can provide.  Or perhaps I can do nothing except commiserate with someone who is trying to get her family into a family shelter only to find the beds constantly filled day after day.

I gave my friend three reasons or ways that I maintain my faith.

First, God provides.  He encourages, supports, and lets me know that He's on the job, so to speak.  He provides a measure of peace and fulfillment even when things don't end up being rainbows and unicorns for those we are trying to help.  His strength, power, and compassion are endless.  He continually works to refill my cup.

That work of “refilling my cup,” as I put it, is often through others.  Others who look after my health and well-being.  My wife, other staffers, the other Elders, and people I know and love who I can trust implicitly.  And this woman who I am visiting with is one of those people.  Without God's work through those I encounter day to day, I don't know where I'd be now.

Second, I know several in the non-profit community who I know are also “out there,” so to speak, doing the hard things every day.  They keep going even when things are tough...and things are tough much of the time.  I keep up with them and their ministries.  I talk with them, visit with them, lunch with them.  We exchange ideas, new ways to serve, and share successes.  And we commiserate with each other.  And we understand each other.  We encourage each other.  We help each other as we can.  The non-profit community is an incredible resource to help me maintain my sanity and my faith.

Third, the RiverWalk congregation supports me in the work that we do.  They contribute financially to the church so we can do what we do.  They encourage me and others.  They help out when they can.  Many of them themselves are busy pretty much behind the scenes doing the everyday things that help other people.   Providing transportation.  Offering a listening ear.  Sitting at a bedside.  Sitting with children.  Preparing food.  Buying groceries.  Cleaning house, and running errands for those who can't do those things on their own due to illness or trauma.  It is gratifying, humbling, and incredibly empowering to have such a church family who supports servant ministries the way RiverWalk does.

Yes, the work is sometimes hard, but I’m not the only one God has endowed with a sometimes hard job.  There are countless others who have been given the good work of helping, restoring, relieving, uplifting, and just caring & listening.  With all of those jobs, however, comes the needed resources from God Himself to complete the work.

 

As that great Apostle Paul has said, “Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim that anything comes from us, but our competence comes from God.  And the Hebrew writer likewise, makes this statement at the end of that letter,  “Now may the God of peace equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever.  Amen.”

 

May God bless us, every one.

Blessings, 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seasonal Changes

 Good afternoon.

 This is the time to begin thinking about change of seasons.  Now, I know you’re thinking about the change of season having to do with summer turning into fall and cooler weather, but there are other seasonal changes afoot as well.

Take our winged wildlife, for example.  Most birds either have raised their young by now, or are in the finishing days and weeks of doing so and kicking them out of the nest.  Some birds are beginning to molt…that is, lose feathers in preparation for growing a new set of feathers that will protect them during the cold winter months.  And soon we will be seeing more of the migrating birds hit our neighborhoods for anywhere from a few hours to several days while they rest up, stoke up on food, and find decent water.  Those birds who have been with us for the summer will, in some cases, migrate away from here and we won’t see them again until next spring.  I’m thinking specifically about our Mississippi Kites which are numerous in our neighborhood, but there are also others.

School is beginning shortly, or has already begun.  Buth public and private schools have first day of classes.  Home schoolers also have their own first day photos and celebrations.  Another calendar year, another school year.  That is in a very real way a change of season.

Vacation days are coming to an end.  Yes, I know some can vacation during the fall and winter months, but most of us either like to, or must do that during the summer months when kids are out of school and it’s easier to get to places without having to deal with the snow and ice.

There’s one more change that comes around in these few weeks of late July and early August.  The runners come out.  The runners.  You’ve seen them.  They’re teens who usually are running in a park, along the river, on sidewalks or on running tracks.  They usually don’t run alone, but are in some kind of group.  Most of the time you can hear chatter as they run, especially if it’s a group of teen girls.

They don’t run fast, but run for endurance.  They’re Cross Country participants, I’m guessing, and are getting in shape for competition that begins this fall along with the normal football program for most schools.  These kids will run miles a day, seemingly unfazed by the distance they’ve already run and the distance they have to go.

And that amazes me.  I never was a cross country runner, and ran the mile only once in my life, during my freshman year of high school for phys ed.  I sometimes am sitting out on my back patio when they go by in the park on the path that’s just behind our house.  They’re in a pack of anywhere from 3 to 12, and seem to be effortlessly running at an endurance pace, chatting with each other as they go.

Or I’ll see them along or near the river downtown when I’m out and about down there.  It’s the same thing.  A pack of several, enjoying the time with each other, are running to get and stay in shape for the upcoming Cross Country season.  West High school isn’t that far away from where I usually travel, and I am assuming most of them are from that school, or at least live in nearby housing neighborhoods.

These young people probably don’t stop to appreciate just what their bodies are capable of doing and how effortlessly they can run 6 to 8 miles an hour for long distances.  I’m a little jealous, actually, as I watch, knowing that my running days are largely over, and even if I do go into a trot, it’s not very long until certain body parts begin to hurt more and my breaths become very labored.

The last time I ran, I was out in the park behind our house on my evening walk when it began to rain.  Of course, I was as far from the house as I normally would be on my walking route when the rain began.  So, I began to walk in the sprinkling rain, which soon became more of a downpour.  I became concerned for my hearing aids getting wet, so I took them off and put them in my handkerchief, which was still somewhat dry and carried them wrapped up in my fist.  And yes, I do check the weather and local radar before I go out.  At the time I left the house, there was no rain within 30 miles of me.  This rain cloud evidently formed and started downpouring in about 10 to 15 minutes time pretty much overhead.

I was about 200 yards from the house, and even though I was soaked, decided to try to run a short distance.  Surprisingly, I made it almost the entire 200 yards before I became winded and had to walk the rest of the way.  I didn’t run fast…about 5 to 6 miles an hour.  That’s about the limit of my speed nowadays when running.

I’m happy to see these young people out running, even though there’s a tinge of jealousy when I do.  It pleases me to see that they are working to keep in shape and, even though they appear to be chatting and having a good time while practicing, they are doing some of the hard things in life.  Cross Country isn’t easy.  Both of our boys ran it in high school.  It takes endurance, commitment, energy, drive, and sweat.  The public rewards aren’t great because football takes all the glamour and glory.  Not many get out and watch the cross country meets.

The next time you see a gaggle of teens casually running down the sidewalk or along a path, you can probably assume they’re in cross country or perhaps the football program.  Smile a little and offer some private encouragement and, if you’ve a mind to, a prayer for their safety and health.

 

Blessings,

Right Use of our Minds

 Good afternoon.

 A few days ago, I was in our multi-purpose area of the church building.  I noticed someone setting up chairs and tables for a grief group meeting later that evening.  I engaged him in some conversation, and a short time later learned that he was my first cousin once removed.  Now, you may not be fully aware of what a “once-removed” cousin is, so I’ll tell you.  First cousins are people who have parents who are siblings.  If my dad and your mom are brother and sister, that makes us first cousins.

Once-removed first cousins are people, one of whom has a parent who is a sibling to another person who is a grand parent to the cousin once removed.  So, if my dad and your grandmother are siblings, you are a first cousin once removed in relation to me.

In any event, we reconnected and talked about relatives now gone.  I’ll call him Jim.  Jim’s grandmother was my aunt on my dad’s side of the family.  His father Vernon, my aunt’s son, was a Psychiatrist.  His practice began, I think, in the later 1950’s.  He had a long and successful career in that field of practice.

What makes that unusual was the fact that Jim’s family was part of a faith denomination that, at least in that day, seemed to not fully understand mental health issues and tended to either dismiss them or treat those illnesses as something mysterious and unknown.  Those who suffered from mental health issues were often said to be “not right,” a kind of catch-all phrase to explain away something that most didn’t understand and weren’t interested in discussing.  There was even sometimes the notion that something sinister was going on with the mentally ill…that somehow the devil or Satan was involved in creating the state of being “not right.”

I asked Jim how it was that his dad came to be a Psychiatrist at a time when his faith community held a generally negative viewpoint on mental health and mental illness.  Jim told me it all stemmed from a prayer that was given by Vernon’s grandfather Sol…my grandfather too.  Intrigued, I asked him for more information.

Jim told me that back in that day when prayers were given at family gatherings, usually before meals, and usually by the family patriarch, a common sentence of that prayer in that faith tradition would be asking God to, “Give us the right use of our hands.”

Jim told me that when his dad, Vernon, was just a boy of about five years old, he was at one of those family gatherings, and his grandfather Sol was asked to say the blessing before dinner.  As part of his prayer, Sol said, “Give us the right use of our minds,” instead of the normal sentence referring to the right use of hands.

That phrase stuck with the five year old Vernon.  He heard that same phrase more times from Grandfather Sol in the next year or two…then told his mom that he wanted to grow up to help people have the right use of their minds.  That began Vernon on the long road to Psychiatry where he ended his incredible career decades later at Prairie View in Newton, Kansas.

That phrase strikes me as well, even today.  I’m not sure exactly what Sol meant when he invoked the blessing of God to the right use of our minds.  It could have more than one meaning.  But to even consider asking God for such a thing, even today, is not common.  And then…well…it was probably unheard of, except when Sol was praying.

It could mean something similar to the verse of the old hymn, “Dear Lord and Father of Mankind.”  The first verse says, “Dear Lord and Father of mankind, forgive our foolish ways.  Reclothe us in our rightful minds; in purer lives our service find.  In deeper reverence, praise.”

We all fall short of God’s expectations.  We all sin.  We all struggle with living pure lives.  We all are participants in “foolish ways.”  Sol was well aware of the “foolish ways” of mankind.  His life was not a bed of roses, in part due to the “foolish ways” of both himself and others.  That phrase may be a plea for God to help us live pure lives of service.

Or, it could mean exactly what Vernon had in mind…asking God to heal our mental health issues and give us minds that we can use which are free of those struggles.  Sol had a son, Robert, that “wasn’t right,” as many phrased it, and died young back in the 1920’s.  Sol may well have had Robert in mind, which could have been the impetus for that sentence in his prayers.  And God very well could respond positively to that plea by sending people who are especially equipped, such as Vernon was, to help people regain the right use of their minds.

Either way, that sentence in those prayers had an effect…a positive effect…and it seems that God answered that prayer by sending Vernon into the psychiatric profession...possibly along with countless others…in service to humanity to give us “the right use of our minds.”