Bungee Cord 5-27-13

Hello,

     There are two nests under my deck.  One is a robin’s nest.  The other is a wasp’s nest.  Herein lies one of the bigger differences between Jesus and me (besides divinity, that is).

     As spring came upon us, I noticed the construction of a bird’s nest under my deck.  I was afraid that it was a barn sparrow that was hoping to homestead in the joists of my deck, so three times I interrupted the construction by pulling the nest down before it was competed.  Soft hearted as I am, I knew that I wouldn’t have the chutzpah to tear it down once eggs were laid in it, so I tried to keep ahead of my determined squatters.

     Obviously, the birds won out, and despite my watchful guard the nest was completed and filled.  Given that it is a family of robins, I wasn’t quite as upset in my failure than if it had been barn swallows.  Barn swallows tend to be messy and they have a habit of dive-bombing anyone or anything that nears their nest.  Robins, I have discovered, are far more docile.  As a matter of fact the other day I walked right under the nest and the only thing that happened was the birds went silent.  So, I have resolved to let these nesters stay under my deck.

     The wasps, however, are a different story.  Wasps are not just pesky.  They see me as their enemy.  They seem to have forgotten that this is my house, and when I come near they approach me as Granny Clampet cocking her shotgun and ready to fire on trespassers like me.  So last night when dusk had fallen and the wasps had all nestled into their nest, I slinked up to their nest with a spray can of “wasp killer” in my hand and I blasted their nest.  The spray covered their nest like Styrofoam, and underneath the foam I could see the wasps unsuccessfully trying to escape their demise.

     This is where the divide between Jesus and me that I spoke of comes in.  Robins, I allow to nest on my house, wasps I do not.  However, Jesus welcomes robins….and Jesus welcomes wasps.  How do I know this of Jesus?  Well….he welcomes me.  Sometimes I am a robin…a little messy, but not on the attack.  And sometimes I am far more like a wasp, stinging Jesus over and over again by what I say and do.  Whatever the case, Jesus opens the door of his house every week and says to me, come on in and nest here for a while.  Squatters, no matter the degree of their peskiness are welcome to make their nests in  the joists of Jesus’ house.  Including me.  Including you.

     But more than just allowing us, robins and wasps, to nest in his house, Jesus takes an interest in us nesters.  Jesus also nests in our nests and makes our nests his home taking the sting out of our stingers and the mess out of our messiness.

     Looking for a place to make your nest?  Looking for a place where you are welcome?  Looking for a place where you will be transformed from pests to beloved?  Looking for a place where you will not be sprayed with the killing foam that comes squirting at you everyday from the aerosol cans of the world?  Wasp or robin you will find that the doors of the Lord’s house, the church, are open to you.  Come and see…..you’ll find a nesting place in the house of the Lord!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,  (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 5-20-13

Hello,

     On my way home from the church at which I work I pass many other churches, and near to the highway on the lawn of a particular church for the last several months has been this invitation on their sign, “Prayer works.  Come pray with us.”

     “Prayer works.  Come pray with us.”  Every time that I have passed this sign, I find myself asking, “What do they mean when they say, ‘Prayer works.’”

     I know that some people who, when they say, “Prayer works,” they understand that to mean that if you pray, God will do for you what you ask, which they understand John 14:14 to say.  Pray for financial relief when you are having money problems, and God will solve your money concerns.  Pray for an illness to go away, and God will take it from you.  Pray for a boyfriend or girlfriend, and God will give you one.  Pray for a parking place in front of the post office, and one will await you when you drive up.  For those who see prayer “working” in this way, they place the success of prayer upon the number of people praying (the more the better), the right prayer being said (How will God know how to respond if we aren’t specific enough?), and making sure that the words “In Jesus name”, are included.

      But is that really the way the Bible depicts the workings of prayer?  Is that really how the Bible depicts our relationship to God?     Is that really the way that prayer functions in our lives?  Is prayer an exercise akin to putting nickels into a gumball machine and having a gumball emerge?

     And when prayer doesn’t work that way the answers are given: you didn’t truly believe , or God said “no”, or you must have left out something important, or not enough people were praying with you,   But worst of all, when prayer goes “unanswered”, some have given up on God altogether.

     Let it be known that I echo the pronouncement, “Prayer works,” but when I say works I understand it to mean the way it worked for Jesus who prayed three times in the Garden of Gethsemane on the night of his betrayal.   On that night he entered that garden aflood with fear and anxiety over what was about to happen.  After he had prayed when he left that garden, albeit in the hands of his captures, he was at peace and empowered to face what lie ahead.  Such, in my understanding, is the working of prayer.

     To pray is to come to God with the realities of life in a conversation with one who divinely cares.  Like a child who has come to rest in her mother’s lap after she skins her knee finds herself less preoccupied with the scrape on her knee and more aware of the comforting strength of the one on whose lap she rests, so is the working of prayer.  Therein lies, as I understand it, the power of prayer: a power that overwhelms fear, anxiety, envy, or pride that leads one to sweat blood with a peace, a confidence, and a hope that says to the world, “Ok.  Hit me with your best shot.”

     “Prayer works.  Come pray with us.”

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  5-13-13

Hello,

     The chickens are here!

     Those of you old enough to remember the 60’s-70’s show “Green Acres” will know what I mean when I say that I am living out that show, only in reverse.  In the show a man captivated with the idea of living on a farm steals his wife away from the big city to take up the country life…”Green Acres is the place to be…farm living is the life for me…”  Well, in my case it is my wife who has the farming bug, and she has stolen this suburban Chicago kid to live the country life.

     We have lived on our small western Pennsylvania acreage for just about a year now, and I can now say that “farm life” has officially begun.  Over the course of the winter my wife has been making preparations for this day, the arrival of her chickens.  With her usual diligence, she began researching designs for chicken coops in the fall, made adaptations to many of them to fit her dreams, laid away on many a night mulling over the options, and then while the snow flew she built her chicken coop in the protection of our garage.  Let me just say, that this chicken coop is quite unlike any chicken coop on Green Acres which lacked quality and durability.  No, my wife’s chicken coop is the “Taj Ma Coop” of chicken coops….built on a solid trailer, bolted down with 8 large bolts, equipped with electricity for lights and winter heat, complete with vented roosting boxes, and easily accessible  egg retrieval, and sided with cedar siding left over from our house construction.  It took its maiden voyage out of our garage a couple of weeks ago, and it now sits safely sheltered behind our garage awaiting its occupants.  For the last several weeks my wife has been counting down the days for the chickens to arrive in the mail (yes…they come in the mail!), and at last, today they arrived.  Four baby chicks now making their home in our furnace room in the makeshift pen that she formed out of our dog’s no longer used kennel.  Paneled in cardboard, the pen mimic’s their mother’s nest by keeping at a constant 95 degree temperature for the first week or so. 

After they have grown enough, and I don’t know what that means…but believe me, my wife has researched this….they will take their place in the palace that awaits them, the “Taj Ma Coop”.

     So, it is an exiting day at the Nuernberger house… a new life for this city kid as “farm animals” have arrived, and a new life for my wife as a long hoped for dream begins to take shape.

     All this has given me a new appreciation of what Jesus said when he spoke of the joy in heaven when a sinner repents, more joy than when a shepherd finds a lost sheep….more joy than when a woman finds a lost coin…….the kind of joy, I am sure, that I saw in my wife’s eyes when the chickens arrived!

Fellow chickens…..have a great week!

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  5-7-13

Hello,

     Sunday evening I arrived back from a four day stay in New York City.  My youngest son gave his master’s degree piano recital, and my whole family made the trip to the “Big Apple” to hear him twinkle the ivories.  The recital was on Thursday evening, so that left us with several days of seeing the sights and wandering around the city together.

     I’ve been to NYC a couple of times since my son has moved there, but with every trip I am still surprised at the hustle and bustle of the streets, the chorus of languages that fill one’s ears, the clock that never strikes twelve, the undertaking of making order out of the chaos, and the endless variety of stores and shops that seem to have enough business to stay open despite the huge rent payments they must be making.

     Saturday morning we strolled down to Times’ Square to see if we could get some theater tickets.  Even in the day, Time Square is a like a shimmering sequined dress.  Big Screen advertisements that covered the first 6 stories of a building scroll from each direction of the compass.  Billboards, larger yet, bring movie characters to your face as if they were the Giant and you were Jack of beanstalk fame.  People filling the streets like ants to sugar.  Music playing, pictures being taken, tourists with necks crooked and eyes wide open.  Time Square is a sensory overload locale that magnifies the energy, diversity, and drive of life in the United States.  Even to sit on a bench there has a way of both fuelling one up and exhausting one out.

     Interestingly enough, in the middle of Time Square is a large bronze statue.  The fact that there is a statue there is not the thing that I find interesting.  What I find interesting is who the statue is.  It is a statue of Father Duffy, a Roman Catholic priest who served as an army chaplain in the early 20^th century and who completed his ministry in a parish not too far from Time Square.  Amid the swarms of people, above the din of the noise, surrounded by the screens and billboards stands the stately statue of a Roman Catholic priest.

     I don’t know how many other people noticed him, but whether they noticed him or not….he was there.  I don’t know how many people knew his story (I didn’t)…but he was there.  I don’t know if at night the glitz around him blinded others to his unlit presence….but he was there.  There, in the magnified microcosm of what this world has to offer in life stands, and always stands, one who was ordained to reach the world with everything that life with God has to offer.

     Maybe it is no accident that he stands there unlit, witnessing to the fragile power of everything that was lit around him and to the power of God that is its own light.  Maybe it is no accident that he stands there silent, witnessing to the fragile peace that the words that the world speaks give us and the concrete peace that comes with the promises of God.  Maybe it is no accident that he stands there oblivious to fashion and fad, witnessing to the gusty winds of this world that can pull us off course and the shepherding care of a Good Shepherd who stays the course. .  Maybe it is no accident that he is made of metal that withstands the weather, the collisions, the vibrations….witnessing to the frailty of the commitments that humans make to one another and the resiliency of God’s commitment to humans.

Ever find yourself feeling like Father Duffy…unlit, silent, out of step, battered and bruised by the world?  Ever feel like you’re not making much of a difference in helping people see what life with God has to offer against the thunder of what the world is offering?

     You might be doing more than you think….just like that Time Square statue of Father Duffy.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,(ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger