The Bungee Cord  10-28-13

Hello,

     Saturday night as I was getting ready for bed, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I noticed a small black dot resting on the side of my Adam’s apple.  I tried to flick it off, but it didn’t budge.  I gave it a couple of good scratches, and still it did not move.  I leaned closer to the mirror, and under closer examination, it looked as though it might be a lone black hair in my otherwise gray stubble beard.  But it didn’t feel like a hair.  Too crunchy.  Little hair like follicles seemed to be emanating from it….and that is when I realized that it was a tick.  It had buried its head into my skin, and what I was seeing was it’s body and legs protruding out.  Apparently it had not been there long, as it was still quite small, and it didn’t take much of a yank to pull it out.  I think I got it just moments before when I put my head on my dog, Duncan, using him as a pillow.

     They say that the ticks are going to be bad this fall, so I wasn’t surprised to find one embedding itself on my neck.  Ticks, as you know, live by sucking the blood from their unsuspecting host, ala Dracula of legendary vampire fame.  This particular tick that hoped to feast on my blood seemed to have been emulating the legendary Count by virtue of its choice of blood-drawing location.  Maybe the tick was engaging in an early Halloween stunt.

     As I said, once I realized what I was dealing with, it didn’t take much effort to free myself from this blood drawing tick, and in plenty of time before it could do me much damage.  Unfortunately, this tiny tick is not the only pest that seeks to live by sucking my blood, and thereby my life, from me.  Far more hungry and damaging are the things that I have done that have brought pain to me and others, the pressures of work and life that clamp down on me daily, the failings and failures that won’t let go of me.  Unlike that little tick seeking my blood, these things that seek my life-blood can dig themselves so deeply into me that they attach themselves to my heart with vice-like fangs, drawing the life right out of me.

     But Sunday morning an amazing thing happened.  I walked into church, as I do every Sunday morning, and someone saw the trouble I was facing.  Someone saw the blood sucking, life sucking parasites that had leeched onto my life.  Someone saw the waning strength, the darkening hope, and my labored steps.  And that someone said to me, “Take and drink.  This is my blood shed for you.”, and as I found myself kneeling at the altar, drinking in a sip of wine carrying the promised presence of Christ’s blood, something new took a hold of me and my heart: a transfusion of God grace and mercy.  In a world that had sought to bring me to my knees by sucking the life-blood right out of me, I found myself being lifted from my knees by one who gave his life for me.  Carrying a poison of divine forgiveness, this transfusion of Christ’s blood brought a deathblow to all those parasites that had come to the altar clinging to my heart, and a shot in the arm of courage and strength.

     Forecasters seem to be right.  This is going to be a severe tick season….little black ones and big invisible ones.  But thank God, there is one whose eyes sees those ticks, and when he, Jesus, sees them they don’t stand a chance, and we stand with more than a chance….we stand with the power and life of his blood.

     Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord 10-23-13

Hello,

     There are many beautiful places in this world, but among the most beautiful are the hills of Western Pennsylvania in the fall.  It is here where the green hills of summer are slowly and softly donned with a quilt patched with every shade of red, orange, gold, and brown.  Stitched to the roads, when one drives along these patches the leaves flutter to the ground like goose down from a pillow.  The sun sinks lower in the south softening the pinks and the oranges of the sunset.  The coats of the deer darken to match the drying golden rod and grasses, and the geese clear the clouds out of their way with their honking.  It is beautiful.

     But the gusting wind that snaps at your skin with a biting chill is a stark reminder that these days are soon to be taken from us.  The leaves will all be gone from the trees, and the forests will look like lifeless sticks.  The sky will darken earlier, and the sun will hide in the southern skies and the cold will rush in.  Snow will soon blanket the hills, covering what was warm earthy colors with monochromatic white.  Even the animals will virtually disappear as they take cover from the harsh conditions ahead.  There is a beauty to the hills of Western Pennsylvania in the winter, but it is not a warm and welcoming beauty.  It is a chilling and stark beauty.

     It is at this cusp of seasonal change that I am reminded of an important tenant of life and faith, and that is: enjoy the beauty while it is here.  So often I find myself anticipating the future, which in some cases surely will come with the coldness of winter, and in so doing, I rob myself of the joy of the beauty that is all around me…the beauty of the people in my life with which God has blessed me….the beauty of the peace that comes with a quiet and warm star-filled night….the beauty of my health that still propels me up steep hills as I walk my dog…the beauty of the place I work that gives me a chance to impact people’s lives with God’s love (remember, that is the Christian view of every occupation)…there is beauty all around me!

     Beauty, it seems to me, is a gift from God to be taken in and slowly savored.  It is at these times of great beauty that I get a glimpse of the wonder and grace of God, wonder and grace that the cold world tries to hide from my eyes.  And if I have savored the beauty of the wonder and grace of God, I find that the taste of that beauty lingers….lingers into the cold and harsh seasons of life…carrying the reminder of the wonder of grace that is still with me though the winds blow harsh.  It is this lingering taste of beauty that transforms the ugliness of a man, Jesus, hanging on a Calvary cross, turning that ice cold day into a day that we have named “Good Friday”.  And with lingering beauty that sticks to our bones, the clammy, musty, flesh-rotting stench of every grave is overpowered by the marching of Jesus feet on a day that we have named Easter.

     Surrounded by nearly unparelelled beauty, I am reminded to soak it in while it is here…..and reminded that when the cold weather hits, there is one who will be there …still warming me with the wonder and awe of his love and mercy….and that, too, is beautiful.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord 10-14-13

Hello,

     The first egg has arrived. Brown. Smaller than a grocer’s egg.  Kate found it in one of the laying boxes about a week ago, and since its discovery there hasn’t been another egg yet.  The egg sits in our refrigerator, and when people come to visit, it isn’t too long after their arrival that Kate asks, “Do you want to see the egg?”  No one has of yet said, “No.”

     With the arrival of our first egg, there is an innate promise of more eggs.  An egg a day per hen, so we are told.  Also, those who know about these things tell us that the size of the eggs should increase.  Four eggs a day.  Four hens.  28 eggs a week!  A virtual avalanche of eggs soon to come our way.  What will we do with all these eggs?  We will probably find more and more ways to place eggs in our diet, as will our friends.  Egg salad sandwiches….deviled eggs….eggs on salad….hard boiled eggs for lunch…egg nog to drink (there are eggs in egg nog, aren’t there?)…  Who knows what feast of eggs lies in front of us.  A promise of things to come, all held in one small egg that sits in our refrigerator.

     The Christian message finds its heart in a different arrival.  The messiah has arrived.  Brown skinned.  A simple man, smaller than the mighty rulers of the world.  Discovered in a manger by mere shepherds, along the sea shore by hard working fishermen, in towns and villages by hated tax collectors, and in an Easter garden by lowly women.  Those who know of things messianic tell us that the increase of his dominion is without end….leading to the day that “ at the name of Jesus
 every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 
¹¹ and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, 
to the glory of God the Father.”  A virtual avalanche of grace and mercy to come our way.  And what will we do with all this grace and mercy?  We will probably find more and more ways to place it in our lives and in the lives of others…grace and mercy to spur on hope when we have failed….grace and mercy to transform guilt when we have sinned….grace and mercy to bind enemies as friends…grace and mercy to feed the hungry, cloth the naked, and visit the outcast…grace and mercy to bring death to life, wipe away the tears from every eye, and have us dwell in the house of the LORD forever… Who knows what feast of grace and mercy lies in front of us.  A promise of things to come, all held in one small man named Jesus who lay in a manger, hung on a cross, rose from a tomb and is seated at the right hand of the Father.

    So, as I make my way the church doors on Sunday morning, let me ask, “Do you want to see the messiah?”  I hope you will say “yes” and follow me in!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 10-7-13

Hello,

     For the last week there has been a four story yellow rubber ducky floating in the river alongside the Pittsburgh skyline.  It is not an oversized practical joke.  It is “art”.  I was listening to the public radio station out of Pittsburgh the day the ducky was to paddle in Pittsburgh’s river, and they were interviewing the “artist”.  He is from a Scandinavian country, and his duckies have been landing alongside skylines throughout the world.  Pittsburgh has the distinction of being the first plopping place in the United States for this piece of artwork.  The artist in telling the artistic meaning of this towering ducky said that he believes that the rubber ducky is an international symbol of the joy of life.  “Remember the bath times you had as a child,” he said, “and how much fun it was to share your tub time with a rubber duck.”  All around the world, he said, the same thing happens.  Children sit in their bathtubs, playing with their rubber ducky, and the burdens of life get lost in the bubbles and splashes.

     I can resonate with this “artist”, because as I sit in my hot tub, I am always joined by two rubber duckies that my son gave to me as a hot tub present.  As I sit in my hot tub I watch them spin around, dancing atop the whirling water.   They “swim” wherever the jets propel them, and they don’t care where their dance takes place.  To watch them is enlightening.  It is a visual reminder of the wonderful gift of life, a gift that can be overshadowed by responsibilities, job and bosses, life’s daily struggle, and tragedy.  So, between gazing at the stars or the sunset, I splash my rubber duckies trying to steer them.  I take them under the water and wonder where they will surface.  I turn them right side up when they are swimming up side down.  And when I do these things a childhood delight sinks into my soul, and in some small way I become aware of the wonder and blessing of life…the wonder and blessing that daily comes my way that often I am not able to see…..the wonder and blessing of every breath of which not even one do I deserve… “Rubber ducky, you’re the one.  You make tubby time so much fun…”

     But there are times, real times, when a rubber ducky floating in your life falls short of addressing the pain and suffering in one’s heart, and the burden that one carries on their shoulders.  Throwing a rubber duck into your tub at those times of life works as well as saying, “Oh, it will all be okay.” or “Don’t worry.  Be happy.”  A rubber ducky might be able to cut through the gloom of daily life, but when life crumbles the power of a rubber ducky evaporates and it becomes what it really is…a bunch of rubber.

     It is at times like this that my eyes catch another symbol that often is set four or more stories high – a cross – not just any cross, of course, but the cross of Christ.  The sight of the cross takes me back to a Golgotha hill on which Jesus suffered and died, taking with him to death every thing that tries to push us through the shredder of life: our failures, our blunders, our shortcomings, our evil deeds, and  the judgment of others.  It fills my ears with a yell that spans all time and space, “It is finished.”  It sends me back to a baptismal font when Jesus staked his claim on me when I was “sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.”  It clears out the junk of my life and I see the banner that Jesus has strung across my life, “I have called you by name.  You are mine.”

     A rubber ducky may be a universal symbol of joy.  The cross is a universal symbol of hope….hope that springs eternal from a Golgotha hill and an Easter garden tomb… “Lift high the cross.  The love of Christ proclaim!”

     Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger