The Bungee Cord  9-29-14

Hello,

     Monday is my day off, so after running errands, cleaning the gutters and doing some yard work I headed for my hot tub.  Nothing like sitting for a spell in the bubbling waters on a warm autumn day, especially when the trees that cover the ridge are transforming to their multi-color splendor.

     I never sit in my hot tub alone.  I always have the company of the two rubber duckies that my son gave me.  This afternoon, though, the hot tub was a bit more crowded.  After I hopped in I was joined by a stink bug.  Those of you who live in this area well know these pesky critters that seem to be everywhere and are impossible to get rid of.  They are about the size of a dime, and their distinguishing feature is the pungent odor they emit when handled or crushed.

     Unlike me, my uninvited hot tub guest was not enjoying its hot tub experience.  It struggled to stay above the churning water, thrashing for its life.  To the stink bug’s good fortune, one of my rubber duckies  happened by and the stink bug was able to shimmy its way up on the ducky’s back..  But all was still not well with my hot tubbing stink bug friend.  The hot tub’s jets turned the water into a wild ride….spinning one way, and then whirling around the other, bouncing up and down, water cascading over it like large ocean waves crashing down on a helpless sailboat.  The stink bug was obviously distressed as it slid around on the ducky’s bag, holding on for dear life.  Unfortunately, the stink bug would eventually lose the tug-a-war with the water and it would fall back into the hot tub with me.

     But all was not lost.  Not a good swimmer, the stink bug managed to stay above water long enough to cling on again to the ducky when it swirled by.  This struggle repeated itself four times during my 30 minute repose in my hot tub.

     As I observed the stink bug’s ordeal, it occurred to me that I was seeing play out what many people envision the Christian life to be.  Christians, they say, are like that stink bug; people who find themselves in swirling waters doing all they can to stay above water when by chance God, in Jesus, has drawn near them and if they are smart they will muster up the strength to hop on and then hold on to the slippery shoulders onto which they are clinging.

    If that’s the Christian hope, then we, like that stink bug are in deep trouble, for we, like it will fall off over and over again, until in the end we have no more strength to climb aboard.

     That is why I find true hope in the words of Scripture that paints quite a different picture of the Christian faith.  “’²⁷My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. ²⁸I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. ²⁹What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father’s hand.’”(John 10)  Far from holding on to Jesus for dear life, the Bible tells us that Jesus is holding on to us with the power of the one who is the giver of life.  Far safer and more hopeful would that stink bug been if I would have scooped it up and held onto it during our hot tub soak, and that is what God has done.  The unfortunate truth for that stink bug is that I do not share for it the love that God has for me, a stink bug no less than it.  But therein lies the grace of God that is beyond my deserving and understanding.  God has scooped me (and you) up with the promise that he won’t let us slip out of his hand.  That is hope.   That is the Christian faith.

Have a great week, fellow stink bugs!

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord II

Hello again,

    After contemplating my story that I sent out in the Bungee Cord, maybe a better way to end the story would be this way, …..

“When I got here the trucks had pulled up and talk about plants!  I thought they had moved a forest in here.  I don’t know how many plants I planted!”

“Remarkable!  And you?”

“Well, by the time I got here, most of the work was done.  So, well…I planted one plant.”

“Oh,” said the reporter.

…… “Sure wish I had gotten here sooner,” said he.

Have a great day!

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

 Bungee Cord 9-23-14

Hello,

           Let me tell you a story.  It isn’t true, but it could be.

     There’s a vacant lot sitting in a neighborhood of Pittsburgh where some of the homes have residents who battle the winter chill because the windows are vacant, and others of the homes don’t fight that battle because they are just plain vacant.  If you drove by that lot, the truth is that it isn’t really vacant.  It is quite full….full of rusted washing machines and old kitchen sinks, full of garbage and trash that was thrown there….full of thistles and ugly weeds….full of rats and stray cats.  Over the years it has become the dumping ground for that neighborhood.  So full of junk and garbage is it that you have to look really hard to see the 63 Impala that has taken its rest there.  It stinks.  It attracts pests.  It is ugly.

     One day, to the surprise of the community, a sold sign appeared on the property.  When the people saw the sign, they wondered what fool from Florida had been suckered by some shady real estate shark.  But they were even more surprised a couple of days later when they saw a car pull up to the vacant lot, and out stepped someone they all knew.  They knew him because he had grown up in the neighborhood, grown up in the days when it was struggling buy not devastated.   Unlike many of his peers he had escaped from the neighborhood and landed a job as a public school teacher.  He started trudging his way around the vacant lot, and when some people saw him there, they ran out to meet their old friend, and the first thing they asked him was, “What are you doing in that vacant lot?”

     “I bought it,” he said.  “Bought it with my hard earned money.”

     “What for?” they asked, thinking that his escape from the neighborhood must have been to an insane asylum.

     “I bought it to turn it into a garden.  I want to bring life into the dying neighborhood, and it seems to me that the place to start is in the most dead place…this lot.”

     As they were talking a dumpster was dropped off with a loud bang, and the people realized that he wasn’t kidding….he might be crazy…but he wasn’t kidding.

     He stepped out of the garden and walked over to the corner where a bunch of the neighborhood folks were hanging out, as they did every day.  Some of them were drug dealers, some of them were gang members, some of them were prostitutes…but all of them knew him…knew him from when he hung out with them as kids.

     “Hey,” he said as he shook their hands.  “I bought that vacant lot, and I have a dream of turning it into a flower garden.  Would you come and help me out.”   Although they weren’t much for dirt, grime and grease, but because he was an old friend, they said,  “Sure, why not…what else do we have to do.”

     So they set off to work in the lot, and the hardest work was first…clearing out all the junk.  They worked hard, but they didn’t make much headway, so they said to their friend who owned the lot, “We need more help!”  So the owner went to another street corner, frequented by the same sorts of people and once again, because he was an old friend of theirs and they really didn’t have anything else to do, they, too, said, “Sure.  Why not.”  Twice more the same thing happened.  More help needed.  More help obtained.  When at three in the afternoon, the lot was finally cleared and ready for the rototillers, four of them.  While some of the people ran the machinery, the others took a short break, but the break was soon interrupted by the delivery of the plants – three flatbed truckloads of plants…..”We need more help.”

With the additional help, the shovels went to work and soon holes were being dug, plants being set in, and mulch set down. It was starting to take shape, but evening was soon coming…. “We need more help!”

So one final group of people were brought into the project to set plants in the holes that were already dug, and to spread around the last pile of mulch.  And when the work was done…that lot, once a cesspool and junkyard had been transformed into a flower garden worthy of wedding pictures.

The whole thing had created quite a stir throughout the neighborhood and even throughout the whole city of Pittsburgh.  So much stir that the T.V. stations sent out reporters.  One of the reporters, a young woman from KDKA, hopped out of her van and headed off with her microphone toward a group of folks who looked as though they had been part of the project.

“What a transformation!” she said pushing her mic in front of one of the person’s face, “And what part did you play in this amazing transformation?”

A little bit camera shy because of her life as a prostitute, the woman said, “Well, I’ve been here all day…we cleared out all sorts of junk, turned over the soil, and planted the plants.”

“Remarkable,” said the reporter.  “And how about you?” she said as her mic found its place in front of some one else’s nose.

“Well,” said the guy, “I wasn’t here from the beginning.  By the time I got here most of the gross garbage had been hauled out.  I helped carry out the washing machines, turning the soil over, and planting.”

“Remarkable!  And you?”

“Well, by the time I got here,” he said, “They were turning the ground over, so I grabbed a shovel and started digging holes for the plants….holes, holes and more holes.”

“Remarkable!  And you?”

“When I got here the trucks had pulled up and talk about plants!  I thought they had moved a forest in here.  I don’t know how many plants I planted!”

“Remarkable!  And you?”

“Well, by the time I got here, most of the work was done.  So, well…I planted one plant.”

“Oh,” said the reporter…… “that’s too bad.”

Take a look at Matthew 20:1-16…..

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 9-15-14

Hello,

Sochi may have had the Olympics.  London may have the changing of the Guards at Buckingham Palace.  New York may have New Year’s Eve at Times Square .  But Stahlstown, Pennsyalvania ,the town (?) where I live, has the Annual Flaxscutching Festival.  So world famous is this yearly event that if you Google “flaxscutching” the top entry on the World Wide Web is Stahlstown, and it has its own website!

Complete with the Trogar Lutheran Church Bell Ringers, homemade pies from the Pie Shoppe in Laughlinton, a display of Massey Fergusson Tractors (one at work grinding flour), a Civil War encampment, the Boy Scout’s fresh pressed apple cider, and (of course!) the highlight: the re-enactment of the Indian attack on the first settlers of Stahlstown (complete with the burning of the cabin, the Natives (boy scouts) bare chested with war paint, and full-bearded modern day Stahlstonians portraying their ancestors firing their mussel loaders and shotguns.  No wonder it has World Wide Web fame.

What is “flaxscutching”?  It is the process by which the early settlers made cloth out of flax, an easily grown crop.  They have hourly demonstrations at the festival of the process, a process that involves lots of steps and lots of skill.

It’s a touch of Americana that only small towns still seem to be able to put together, free from commercialism, modern technology, and rock and roll music.  It is a link to the past that set the foundation for the present.  It is a reminder of the ingenuity, struggle, and determination of those who first settled here.

Kate and I attended the Flaxscutching Festival.  The morning was cold and rainy, but the afternoon warmed up and the skies cleared, just in time for the re-enactment.  The cross-section of society that roamed the festival grounds was both intriguing and refreshing.  I know that the socialites of New York, Chicago, and Paris might laugh at the lack of sophistication and glitz, but there’s something profound in the dogged determination of the people to remember where they have come from.

Much of the same happens every Sunday morning at church.  Often times there isn’t a lot of glitz and sophistication.  The choir consists of people like aunt Martha who likes to sing, unfortunately often too loud and a bit off pitch.   The preacher and the sermon have sedative effects.  The décor hasn’t been changed in 50 years, and things are done in a certain way, a way which no one knows the reason why, only that its always been done that way.

But there’s something profound in the dogged determination of the people to remember where they have come from: the cross and resurrection of Jesus.  A old couple whose lives have been burdened with pain belting out their favorite hymn…a young child stumbling their way through the Lord’s Prayer….a baby screaming as Baptismal water is poured…a family kneeling at the communion rail with hands outstretched…a whole congregation united in the ancient words of the liturgy.

There’s plenty of things that go on on Sunday mornings now a’days that are glitzier and more sophisticated than what goes on in the average church, but just like the Flaxscutching Festival, the simple festival of grace that goes on in every church every Sunday has a way of grasping the deepest things in life that the slick and exciting options do not.

See y’uns there!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 9-8-14

Hello,

     Last night was a full moon, and with no cloud cover the night was muted with light.  There are nights out here in the countryside that are so thick with darkness that one has to step slowly for each step is a step into the unseen.  But not last night.  So bright was the moon that you couldn’t look right at it without it leaving an imprint in your vision, and the ridge which is 10 miles away was as clearly visible as it is when the sun dives behind it and colors the sky.  It was night, alright, but the light had spilled into it and robbed the darkness of its power.

Psalm 139:11,12

¹¹ If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me,
   and the light around me become night’, 
¹² even the darkness is not dark to you;
   the night is as bright as the day,
   for darkness is as light to you.”

     Has this ever happened to you: you find yourself in a night of darkness, feeling yourself being swallowed up with the power of quick sand.  And then someone comes up to you, with the best of intentions, and says, “Hang in there.  It will get better.  There’s a light at the end of the tunnel.”

     Although the intentions may be good, those words often don’t carry much hope.  How much hope do they carry when you know its not going to get better, as a matter of fact you know its going to get worse?  How much hope is there in these words when your strength to hold on and hang in there is spoken to muscles in your hand and heart burning up from overburdened use?  How much hope is there in these words when you are so beat down that you can’t get up, and that light at the end of the tunnel beams with sadistic taunt because it knows you’ll never get there?

     I have heard Christians speak these words, even pastors from the pulpit.  But with all due respect, I don’t think  that “Hang in there.  It will get better.  There’s a light at the end of the tunnel.”  are Christ’s words,

     Jesus didn’t say, “Hang in there.”  He said, “Abide in me.”….Rest in me, for I will hold onto you..

     Jesus didn’t say, “It will get better.”  He said, “I know my own and nothing can snatch them out of my hand.”

     Jesus didn’t say, “There’s a light at the end of the tunnel.”  He said, “I am the light of the world….the light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.”

     It is true that sometimes we can hold on long enough for the darkness to pass.  Sometimes things do get better as the morning dawns.  Sometimes we do have the strength to crawl our way through tunnels.  But when those things aren’t true, Jesus has a word of hope, true hope, for us to hear….the hope whose power is seen in a full moon night….”Even the darkness is light to me,” says the Lord, “the nighttime is bright as the day!”  That is hope!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord 9-1-14

Hello,

     Yesterday I participated in an ALS Ice Bucket spill. (You can see it on my Facebook page, Jerry Nuernberger.)  As you can see on the video, I used a large, blue, two gallon bucket for my spill. (I was thinking about using a Dixie Cup sized orange bucket with one ice cube in it.  But I decided that I would opt otherwise lest people discover what a wimp I am at heart.)  Two-thirds full of ice and water, at the count of three, I along with a bunch of others took a brief cold shower.

      I know that there have been a lot of varied opinions about this ice bucket challenge that has swept its way across the country.  Some people are exuberant.   Some people are skeptical.  Some people are cynical.

     When I was asked to participate, I had this flurry of opinions swirling around in my head, along with the wonder of why would I want to spill a bucket of very cold water over my head.  At first, I didn’t think I would join in….but then after thinking about it, I changed my mind and decided wholeheartedly that I would participate.  What made my mind change?

     Taking my vision off myself.  That is what changed my mind. 

     When my mind’s eye looked at the person who invited me, any speck of cynicism was blown away.  Here was a person who lived with the ravages of this disease, a person to whom I could tangibly show my care and support.   Why wouldn’t I dump a bucket of water over my head?

     When my mind’s eye looked at all the things that I spend my money on that don’t bring me the return that I had hoped for (a meal at a restaurant, a ticket to the movies, a car that ages, a trip that was boring), any hint of skepticism about how my contribution would be used to battle this disease that brings such pain to people’s lives evaporated.  Why wouldn’t I dump a bucket of water over my head and throw some money into a contribution pail?

     When my mind’s eye looked at the Golgotha cross where God didn’t ask of himself, what’s this costing me?  …or will this do any good?  ….or will I like it?  …or will it hurt?  No, God looked at me…and you….and said, “I will do this because I love you.”  All those love-lacking questions that God, who the Bible tells us is love,  doesn’t ask didn’t make any sense for me to ask either.  Why wouldn’t I, in the face of the cross of Christ, do something , like pouring a bucket of ice on my heat, that would only bring a short shock to my system?

     Taking my eyes off myself.  That is what changed my mind.  And I am glad that I did.  In this world that is always concerned about how much bang we get for our buck, I am glad that I live under the love of One gave himself completely for me – as Martin Luther said, “gave more than all the silver and gold in the world” – not even thinking about the bang….but only thinking about you and me.  And if there has been any bang for the buck that God laid out on that Calvary cross, maybe its that you and I have been so caught up in God’s self-less love that we have been freed from asking that love-lacking question “how much bang will I get for my buck?’

     Have a great week!

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernbeger