Hello,

     There are benchmarks to growing old, and I have just passed one of them.  Last week, I played my first game of pickle ball.  Pickle ball is all the rage with the retired set, especially in golden age communities.  It is played on a basketball half-court, using solid paddles the size of a racquetball racquet, a green heavy plastic whiffle ball, and a net a little lower than a tennis net.  When asked to describe the game, I say it is sort of like ping pong on the ground.  It isn’t a lot of running, but it tests your reaction time.  It is fun.

     So, in my maiden voyage into pickle ball, I didn’t embarrass myself too much.  As a matter of fact, a couple of the regular players at the “Y” said to me, “You must have played some tennis.”

     “A little,” I responded back.  With only two courts, you rotate into games, which are played to 7 points.  As I rotated in and out of several games, I got to feeling more comfortable in my play, too comfortable, actually.  While near the net, the other team lobbed a shot over my head and I had to turn around and run after it.  Reaching the baseline, I got there before it hit the ground, so I turned around visioning an ESPN highlight shot.  My confidence, however, was over rated, because as I began my turn, my feet got tangled up with one another, and with humiliating clumsiness, I went tumbling to the ground….my bum hitting the floor and my head hitting the cement block wall. (Fear not, the wall was not damaged.)

     Lying flat on the floor, I reached up to feel my head to make sure that nothing had seeped out….a little sore, but okay.  And then I put my hand on my bum, not so spared as my head. There was a residual pain, a pain that I thought I could walk off and play off.  I played a couple more games, but as the play went on, it became more painful to stretch for shots and to cover the court.  I graciously took leave of the games, and trudged my way up the stairway to the locker room.  I was glad that no one was there, because I didn’t want to answer the question that would have been asked of me as I grunted in pain when I sat down, “How did you hurt yourself?”  (Somehow the answer, “Playing pickle ball,” seems terribly whimpy.)

     I got home, received a modicum of sympathy from my wife who said, “Take a couple of Advil and go sit on some ice.”  (Sitting on ice is her normal remedy to my aches and pains….she’s a physical therapist.”)  It didn’t bring much relief.  I am pretty sure that I bruised my tailbone and only time will help.  So, I have been gingerly hobbling around and wincing when I try to sit.

     The misery of my fall has been slowly abating over the days, but there is enough pain yet remaining to rub salt into my embarrassment over my clumsiness.  I know that I am not the only one who is clumsy and falls, as a matter of fact we all do it…..all the time.  Maybe not on a pickle ball court, but certainly on the courts of life.  Truth is, we all stumble in life…sometimes just a mild fall, and sometimes a real tumble, and when we do, most often we do not only carry embarrassment, but shame.  “Stupid!”  “Fool!”  “Loser!” “Piece of s%*#!” …and the pain that goes with it.

     I don’t know if you have ever thought about it this way, but, in fact, those who gather every Sunday morning in church are all admitted stumblers in life.  In my church, we start off every worship service admitting that fact to one another, “We are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves.  We have sinned against you  (God) in what we have done, and what we have left undone.”  And then after owning up to our clumsiness, as painful as it is, we don’t hear the names that the world calls us….words that we probably deserve.  Instead we hear, “In his mercy, God sent his Son to die for you, and for his sake, your sins are forgiven.”  We also hear, “all you that are heavy laden, come to me and rest.”   We also hear, “come to my table and take my forgiveness into your very being.”  We also hear,  “Go in peace.  Serve the Lord.”

     So, when you stumble, and we all do, let me invite you to a place where you won’t be laughed at, you won’t be shamed, you won’t be foully named….but you will be forgiven.  And although the pain of your stumbling may still linger for a while as you venture out into the world that won’t let you forget your stumbling, the balm of God’s forgiveness works far better than Advil and ice, for God’s grace …. God’s love for you… is greater than your greatest stumble or fall.  As Jesus said, “Take up your mat and walk.”

Have a great week, full of hope as you enter this new year.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  12-24-18

Hello,

…..continued from last week (you can find the first half on my blog, 1johnthreeone.blogspotcom)…..

So, with trembling arms and sweaty palms, Russell O’Brian, who had never held a baby before in his life, took hold of the baby Jesus

And then he heard it…..he heard the Pastor say, “Do not be afraid; for see---I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.  This will be a sign for you;  you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.”

Of course, the Pastor was reading the worlds that the Angel said to the shepherd on that Bethlehem hillside, but tonight….tonight….it seemed as though those words were being spoken to him.  Not Joseph, but Russell O’Brian.

With those words echoing in his ears, Russell looked down at that baby that he was holding in his arms – a baby who had far more to fear than Russell did.  For that baby was totally helpless.  Unable to feed itself when it was hungry.  Unable to cloth itself when it was cold.  Unable to defend itself against might struggles.  Unable to even roll over.  Completely helpless, fragile and frail, vulnerable and facing a very cold and rough world.  And it occurred to him, that that was the way it must have been for Jesus.  The way it must have been for Jesus when the real Joseph held him in that Bethlehem stable.

“Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing in g you good news of great joy for all the people;  to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior who is the Messiah, the Lord.  This will be a sign for you; you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.

What more powerful way to show the power of God than to take on humanity in the flesh of a baby.  God didn’t need the might of armies and powerful rulers.  All he needed was a baby.

What better way to share the frailty of life than to come into life in the flesh of a baby.  God did not wrap himself in fire and fury, but in the helplessness of a baby.

What mightier way to bring the challenges of life to their knees, than to have them won over by a helpless baby.  God was going to win his victory.  Not with the hands of a heavy weight divine boxer, but with the wrinkly, tiny fingers of a baby.

Holding that baby and looking into its eyes, Russell O’Brian was caught by the surprise of Christmas. For all the fussing and fretting that he had done over holding that baby, the truth was that that baby….well, not that baby, but the baby that the real Joseph held in his arms….that that baby had really come to hold onto him.  Hold onto him, and never let him go.

“Do not fear, Russell O’Brian…do not fear.”

Amen.  Merry Christmas!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  12-18-18

Hello,

Here’s a Christmas story that I wrote some years ago….at least the first half, this week.

To look at him, you wouldn’t have guessed, but strapping and strong Russell O’Brian was “sore afraid”, sore afraid because this year he was to be Joseph in the Christmas story that the high schoolers were portraying, and this was his source of fear: he’d never held a baby before.

Normally, that wouldn’t have mattered for someone playing Joseph, but this year the script had been changed  and instead of baby Jesus resting in Mary’s lap, he would be held in Joseph’s arms. The Pastor thought it would be an interesting take on the birth story.  In all the manger scenes that he had seen, never was Jesus being held in Joseph’s arms, but surely….surely as his father, Joseph must have scooped Jesus up and cradled him just like Mary did.  So, this year, that was what was going to happen.  Instead of Mary holding baby Jesus, Russell…or Joseph would hold him as the Christmas story was acted out….and that is what Russell O’Brian sore afraid.

He had never held a baby before, and this would be a real baby.  No fake doll, but a real baby portraying the baby Jesus.  How do you hold a baby?  What if it started fussing and kicking?  Should he hold it tighter or looser?  What if it got hungry and started crying and screaming?  What if it spat up?  What if it…well, you know….what if it….?  He’d never held a baby before, and the thought of holding one for at least 10 minutes in front of the whole congregation was absolutely terrifying.  Russell O’Brian was sore afraid.

As Christmas Eve neared things didn’t get any better for Russell.  As a matter of fact, things got worse.  It was his senior year in high school, and he was feeling the pressure of decision that needed to be made and plans that needed to be set.  He really didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life, and everyone kept on asking him what he was planning to do.  Further, the news of layoffs and shutdowns kept his folks on edge, and there was a level of tension at home that could be cut with a knife. Also, his aging grandfather had fallen and broken a hip, and everyone was worrying about what to do for him. His girlfriend told him that she was going to college in California, thousands of miles away.  And the speeding ticket that he just got, didn’t help out.  The last thing he needed was to have his insurance go up.  It was turning out to be a rough Christmas, and Russell was trying to hold everything together…and to add coals to the fire….this Christmas he would have to be holding a baby….Russell O’Brian was sore afraid.

So, Christmas Eve came and Russell found himself in front of a packed church, feeling awkward, dressed in a robe and his head covered with a piece of cloth that felt like it would fall off any minute.  It seemed like the eyes of all the world were upon him.  He could feel his knees locking up, and his hands began to sweat. Then it happened.  

Mary, who was really Stephanie Wilkins, stretched out her arms that held baby Jesus, and placed baby Jesus in Russell’s arms.  Like one of those things at a fair that measured your strength by sending a ringer up a pole with the strike of a sledge hammer, Russell could feel the fear go right up his spine.   The moment of truth had arrived.

So, with trembling arms and sweaty palms, Russell O’Brian, who had never held a baby before in his life, took hold of the baby Jesus…….

To be continued next week!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  12-10-18

Hello,

Have you been in MacDonalds lately?  Wow have things changed!

A couple of days ago I was on my way to a doctor’s appointment and I had a short time to grab something to eat on the way there.  As I considered my options, I remembered that there was a MacDonalds on the way.  Perfect. Fine dining.  Optimum heart healthiness for one doctor bound..

Apparently, I was not the only one who thought as I, because when I arrived, the drive through was about 7-8 cars deep.  So, I decided that with that many cars in the drive-through, it should be pretty empty at the inside counter.  I parked my car, walked in, and found out that I was right.  There was no one waiting in the ordering line.  So, I walked up to the counter, expecting to soon here, “Welcome to MacDonalds.  May I help you?”

But no.  I stood there at the counter, and no one came to take my order.  There were several people scurrying around behind a half wall, but no one seemed to notice me.  Finally, a woman noticed that I was standing at the register, and she came up to me with a tone of surprise in her voice, “Can I help you?”  

I replied, “Yeah.  I would like a quarter pounder and a glass of water.”  Her look matched the surprise in her voice.

“Oh,” she stutteringly said, and she entered my order in the register, told me the cost, accepted my money, handed me a receipt and my change, and then simply walked away.  I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to do. So, I stood there, and I noticed that there was another person standing there, too, looking at her phone.  And then I saw two video kiosks with a picture of a hamburger on them and the words, “Place your order here.”  Apparently, things have changed at MacDonalds, changed a lot from what it used to be a couple of years ago in the stone age.

 Personally, as a Pastor, one of the biggest challenges that I face is trying to relate the never changing grace of God to folks in this ever-changing and quick-changing world.  When I don’t do a very good job of it, Jesus Christ seems out of date and irrelevant to those living in today’s world.

But the God that I know is not one who sits on the curb and watches the changing world march past and out of sight as if watching a marching band in a parade.  No, the God that I know is a God that takes his place in that marching band, clothed in the uniform of humanity, trumpeting a song of love and mercy in every step of the parade route from the beginning of creation, through the cross and resurrection, all the way to when time marches no more and the last trumpet is sounded in this life.  The God that I know isn’t one who says, “If only things were the way they used to be.”  My God says, “Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

Is the world a better or worse place now?  In many ways, it is certainly far better (health, connections with people all around the world).  in many ways it is sitting far more precariously (the power to destroy everything with the touch of a button).  And in many ways, it remains to be seen (technology that can be isolating).  But no matter better or worse, the presence of God is with us….. picking up those who have fallen and standing them on their feet with renewed strength….washing clean the stench and stains of the pain that we bring to our lives and the lives of those around us….gathering up the shattered hopes of the lonely and shunned and embracing them with a love that will never abandon them….standing shoulder to shoulder with those whom the pressures of the world are crushing and relieving their burdens….taking hold of the hand of one who is so dizzy with the spinning of the world and guides them on a solid path.

Sounds pretty relevant to me, no matter how much the world….and MacDonalds…..has changed.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord 12-3-18

Hello,

     Robin’s egg blue….canary yellow….cardinal red…..goose turd green. Goose turd green.  I was rumbling through facebook, and someone had posted a picture of a ball of yarn, dubbed the color “goose turd green”.

     As one who lived in Rochester, Minnesota for a year, I am well acquainted with this color.  Rochester, Minnesota is the home to 30,000 + Canadian geese who winter there because the lake in the center of the city stays open all winter long.  A power plant accesses and disposes of water from that lake, and though the Minnesota winter weather crusts most lakes with several feet of ice, the power plant’s water disposal keeps Rochester’s lake de-iced. And who wouldn’t blame a high flying migrating Canadian goose to drastically cut its travel south and plop down in Minnesota.   30,000 of them or more every winter!   The throng of geese are not very welcome, though. The farmers dread them because they devour their unharvested fields, and the residents of Rochester dislike them because of the presents they left behind….goose turds.

     So, when I saw the name for this color of yarn, I knew exactly what hue of green that it was describing having dodged my share of goose turds, and also having not dodged them….after all, when you are walking in an area of 30,000 geese, the space to place your foot that isn’t already inhabited by a goose turd is rather difficult.  Goode turd greed.  Without even seeing the picture, I knew  what it would look like.   A kind of steel colored green.  A green that is blended with a degree of black, with a bit of white chalkiness added to it.  

     It is interesting how pairing a color with a certain bird creates a clear and universally understood description of that color. Robin’s egg blue….canary yellow….cardinal read….goose turd green.  Maybe, then, it is no wonder that the Scriptures also pair a bird with an attribute of God in order to create a clear and universally understood image of that attribute.

Isaiah 40.31:
but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,
   they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
   they shall walk and not faint.

     “Wings like eagles”  Not like the wings of a sparrow…not like the wings of a crow….not like the wings of a hummingbird…..but, like wings of an eagle.  Wings with power and might to carry in its talons a large salmon, wings that allow it to soar high into the air and take on raging currents, wings that fold back and become like arrow feathers as the bird dives to the earth in breakneck speeds.  As Scripture says, those who wait upon the Lord, draw upon the Lord’s power and might, they face life with “wings like eagles.”

     So, when you face those gale force winds in life that would try and propel you into dark and dangerous storms…when you find yourself fishing for hopes that swim speedily by like migrating salmon….when you find yourself caught in downdrafts of despair and fear….when you find yourself being taunted by grackles and blue jays…..remember this, you who wait upon the Lord are equipped with “wings like eagles”,….wings that will empower you to take on whatever life may send your way….wings that will empower you to have the courage to dive into life with no fear….wings that will empower you to soar above the pettiness and foolishness of the world….wings strong enough for you to lift in your talons those who are floundering….wings to give you flight no matter the tempest of the day.

     If you, like me, have a clear picture of “goose turd green”, may you have even a clearer image of the wings that God’s power and might have bestowed upon you…..not canary wings…not hummingbird wings….not crows wings….not goose wings….but eagles wings!  Soar in God’s grace.

Have a great week,

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord   11-26-18

Hello,

     We Lutherans, and many other Christians, do a strange thing this time of year.  We wait.

     This Sunday is the first Sunday of Advent, a four-week season that proceeds the celebration of Christmas.  During Advent we hear the good news of the coming of the Messiah, the one in whom God will make all things new, whom we profess to be Jesus. Interestingly enough, this good news is not only the good news of the promise of the Messiah to come in a past moment of history, in a Bethlehem manger, but also the Biblical promise of the Messiah to come into our lives every day, and when the days of this age are over, for the Messiah to come again in gathering glory.  Advent means “coming”, and during the four weeks of Advent we turn our attention to doing something that most folks in our culture are not very good at doing, waiting.

     But waiting is an important skill to develop, because even in our world of general instant gratification, there are still times that we find ourselves waiting.  Small and insignificant times, like at the grocery store behind someone in the checkout line who wants to check each of the cashier’s pricings, then wants to go over the receipt, and then pays with a check that they fill out in snail paced care, and then wants some of their stuff re-bagged according to the shelves that are in the pantry.  (Ugh!) And then there are those times when waiting is huge and time plods along with torturous delay.  Like when someone you love has collapsed at home and you await the ambulance.  Or like when a medical test is taken, and you await the results.  Or like when an accident happens, and you wonder if your child was involved and is ok.  

     Even today, we find ourselves waiting.  So, we Christians practice the art of waiting during these four weeks of Advent.  During these weeks we hone up on our waiting skills.  We hone up on keeping vigilant for that for which we wait.  It is all too easy to get distracted by the things going on around us that we can either forget that for which we wait, or we can give up on it.  So, we practice keeping our eyes on Jesus.   Another thing we practice is housecleaning.  Waiting affords a chance for preparation for that for which we await, and so we take the time to spruce up our lives for the arrival of one in our lives whose prominence is unmatched in the universe.  And we spend our time developing our patience, patience that comes from unshatterable hope, the hope that comes with Jesus.

     Of course, the culture around us, especially in these weeks leading up to Christmas, fights against waiting.  Decorations go up in early November.  Stores play “Christmas” (quotes to indicate that many of the songs that we hear during this time of the year have little to do with the advent of Christ) songs as shoppers fill their stores.  Even in churches, people come up to me during these weeks and say, “Pastor, can’t we sing some Christmas carols?”  We live in a culture that doesn’t like to wait.

     Fact of the matter is that the pews of churches would be fuller during these four weeks of Advent if we went along with the flow of the world and reveled in immediately gratifying our desire for Christmas, but many churches work hard to uphold the practice of waiting.  And why?  Waiting is part of life.  Even today. 

     So, let me invite you to come and wait these next four weeks of Advent.  When you come, you will see that the dominant color in the church during the season of Advent is blue.  As you may or may not know, blue is he color of hope, the hope that one experiences when one awakens from sleep and sees a crystal blue sky.  “Maybe this will be a good day!”  Come and wait.  Wait for Jesus, and I am sure that you will find that this will be something well worth becoming good at when you find yourself waiting….waiting for Jesus….in the small and in the huge things in life.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord 11-19-18

Hello,

     Sometimes you win.  Sometimes you lose.  That is life. But when you lose 63-0 (especially to Iowa!), that is a crushing loss.

     As you may know, I am a loyal (foolish?) University of Illinois fan.  I went there for my first two years of college, and my heart still lies there, athletically.  I don’t find myself an ongoing rooter of the Fighting Illini because we were great back then, and I remember and long for the good old days.  We were terrible then, too.  But I had such good friends and such good times going to the games, that my loyalties remain.  Oskeewowow Illinois!

     There have been some bright moments over the years.  A Rose Bowl game.  A final four in Basketball.  But by in large, it has been the same old same old.  A few wins.  And lots of losses.  I joke with folks who root for winning teams, saying that it must be really boring to win all the time.  When you root for a perennial losing team, like the Illini, however,  it is really exciting when you win!

     Of course, it is also a bit embarrassing when you lose so badly, 63-0 (especially to Iowa!).

     I know why the Fighting Illini tend to end up on the losing side of things: our players aren’t as good.  For some reason, unbeknownst to mankind, college age athletes would rather attend sub-par universities whose colors are not orange and blue…..blue, maze, scarlet, grey….. even yellow and black.  But here’s the thing, on the playing field of life, I don’t know why some people find themselves regularly with their faces in the dirt and mud, while others are more regularly kicking up the mud and dirt on their way to victories. Of course, it is true that some people do a pretty good job of digging holes for themselves, but it is also true that there are many people for whom life is simply harder, and by no fault of their own.

     Why is this so?  I wish I knew, and then we might be able to figure out how to mellow the pain that many people take on in life.  But, I don’t know.  Some are quite ready to give simple answers, answers that seem to me to be like rubbing salt in a wound….”you don’t trust God enough”… “God is trying to teach you something”… “everything happens for a purpose” …”it is God’s plan”.  It may be true that these answers apply to some things in life, but personally, I don’t see how they might apply to something like having one’s child get hit by a car while walking home from school….and many other tragedies.

     It seems to me that one of the basic tenets of the Christian faith is not to dwell on the why of unequal suffering, but rather to dwell in the grasp of the one who has taken suffering on….and won!  When Jesus took his place on the cross, he also drew unto himself every evil and suffering that the world might brew, and when he breathed his last breath, so did they.  “It is finished, “ Jesus said as pain and suffering began to gasp for air as he pulled them under with him.  And when Jesus walked out of that Easter grave, he walked over all the evil and suffering that remained dead in their graves.

     So, when shame raises its ugly head and says, “I beat you…beat you badly…63-0,”  Jesus says to that shame…”No, I beat you….I crushed you on the cross…100%-0.”  When guilt grabs you by the throat and says, “I beat you….I bet you badly….63-0,”, Jesus says to that guilt, “No, I beat you…I crushed you on the cross….100%-0.”  When you have blown it and failure says, “I beat you …beat you badly…63-0,”  Jesus says to that failure, “No, I beat you beat you…I crushed you on the cross…100%-0.”  When sin points out the scars that you carry and says, “I beat you … beat you badly….63-0,” Jesus says to that sin, “No, I beat you …I crushed you on the cross…100%-0.”

     Christians gather every Sunday, not as mandated drudgery, but as gleeful victors, people who are part of Jesus’ team…. A team that won big!  Crushed the opponent!  Not 63-0, but 100%-0!  You are part of that victory!  Come and join the celebration!

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  11-12-18

Hello,

     As a pastor, I have conducted a lot of funerals.  Even though it might sound a bit morose, funerals are a part of the ministry of which I am glad to be involved.  Funerals are a time when all the pretenses of life are stripped off and all you are left with is what it means to be a human being. It doesn’t matter how successful, powerful, beautiful, popular, important, or admired one may be, when I am standing at the graveside  and say, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust”, there is an undeniable leveling to human existence….a leveling that I, as a Christian, believe has been there all along.

     Last week, I found myself in a unique place, at a funeral that I was not conducting.  It was a funeral for one of the members of the church that I am serving, but since he was also a pastor the funeral was held at a church near the churches he was serving and was conducted by a friend of his in that area.   So, I was seated in the packed medium-sized church along with his former parishioners, his friends and family,  and a bevy of fellow pastors.

   

     If you have ever been to a funeral of a pastor, you will know that it is a bit different, in that the singing tends to be more robust-er than other funerals.  That was certainly the case for this funeral.  When it was time for a hymn, even though the hymn may not have been familiar to everyone, the sanctuary rocked.

     I happened to be seated toward the rear of the sanctuary amongst people who I did not know….older people who seemed to be former members of this man’s church.  The gusto of their singing was a bit less “pastoral”, actually, I could not hear them singing above the rest of the crowd.  Seated in the pew in front of me was someone who, by his attire, I concluded was not a pastor.  He was dressed in a casual shirt and casual pants.  When he took his place in the pew, he struggled due to his limited range of motion.  When the congregation was asked to rise if they were able, he remained seated.  It was obvious to me that this man was a man whose faith was important to him and likewise was the person whose funeral he was attending, as it was a struggle for him to be there.

     As the service was concluding, the organ started the intro to a hymn that is often part of Lutheran funerals for folks a bit older than me, and then we began to sing.  “Oh Lord my God.  When I in awesome wonder.  Consider all the works thy hands have made.  I see the stars.  I hear the rolling thunder.  Thy power throughout the universe displayed.”  And then, even though the sanctuary was rumbling with pastors, and this man was sitting in front of me and singing away from my direction, I heard him!  “Then sings my soul.  My savior God to thee.  How great thou art.  How great thou art.  Then sings my soul.  My savior God to thee.  How great thou art.  How great thou art.”

     And when we came to the final verse, “When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation, And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart. Then I shall bow, in humble adoration, And then proclaim: "My God, how great Thou art!", he amplified his voice even more, and I could hear him as if he was singing a solo.

     I have no idea of what this man’s life was like…easy or hard, but as I heard him proclaim with blaring bluster these words of faith, I found myself humbled in the shadow of one whose faith overwhelmed the shadow of death in that place.  If death thought that it was going to have the last word for the man who had died, death found out that it would not.  The last word would be Christ’s.  Christ’s whose love and power silenced the voice of death on the day that Jesus walked out of the Easter grave, and likewise silenced in the faith that saturated the voice of the man who sat in front of me as he belittled the power of death by the faith-amplified power in his voice.

     Like I said, as a pastor I find funerals events that I am glad to be part of. This funeral included.  I left that funeral drenched in the hope of Jesus resurrection having been blessed to have been seated behind someone whose witness of God’s grace was louder and more powerful than a sanctuary full of pastors!  Thank you, sir, for your witness.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord   11-7-18

Hello,

 God roots for the Fighting Illini of the University of Illinois!

The reason that I know this is what happened a couple of days ago.  When I woke up and opened the shade the covers our western looking window and saw the entire ridge bathed in orange.  Actually, this was not the first time that I have seen this sight.  It happens every morning when the sun rises. Because (I think) of the curvature of the earth, the dawning light gets refracted a bit, and orange becomes the dominant color,  thus the orange draped ridge out my window.

But on this particular morning, the sky that was touching the ridge was a brilliant blue…thus….orange and blue, the colors of the Fighting Illini of the University of Illinois! Obviously, a sign from heaven that God bleeds orange and blue and roots for my team!

Of course, I am joking. Not about the beauty of the sunrise and its colored dawn, but about the assumption that such a thing is a heavenly message of God’s allegiance.  But all joking aside, such assumptions are often spoken with heartfelt belief, placing God on the side of one person or group and not on the side of the other. I remember some years ago when the national church of which I am a part was meeting in Minneapolis and during the debate on issues of sexuality a tornado bounced over the arena, knocking the cross off of the large church next door.  Some were quick to pronounce this a sign of God’s ire about the direction of the debate, a direction that was moving toward more openness and diversity. But was it?  Could not have the topping of the cross  and the opening of the steeple roof have been a sign of God’s blessing, much akin to the ripping of the temple curtain at Jesus’ crucifixion?

Who does God root for? I tend to think that a far more clear message from God as to his allegiance is seen in Jesus dying on a cross.  The Bible tells us that when Jesus died on that cross he died for all (Romans 6:10).  Question: is there anyone not included in “all”?  If the answer to that question is “no”, then it seems to me that we have the answer to the initial question, “Who does God root for?”  For all.

I take great comfort in that answer, because in that answer I find out that God roots for me.  No matter my devotion, my rebellion, my goodness, my evil, my wisdom, my stupidity, my gifts, my flaws….on and on…God roots for me.  Which also means that God roots for you….no matter if you are sailing smoothly through life with a vibrant faith, or if you are stuck at the bottom of a deep pit of your own making or of your accidental stumbling and faith is hard to find.  God roots for you.

And (this may be the hardest thing to crack through my thick skull) God roots for those with whom I disagree.  I don’t mean that God roots for the rightness or wrongness of how I see things verses how others see things, but rather that God’s heart is linked to each of us.  I find that helpful, so that when I am in disagreement with others, I might involve myself in that disagreement, not as people on different teams, but as people who stand on the same side of the field, the Good Friday field, under the cross of Christ.

It is a good thing that God roots for all, because the Fighting Illini of the University of Illinois are in need of someone to root for them (it’s been a long stretch of years on the football field), but even more so you and I are in need of someone to root for us, because it can be a long stretch of years on the field of life.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  10-29-18

Hello,

     Is it easier to love or to hate?

     I ask this question for today’s Bungee Cord in light of the tragic events of this past weekend in Pittsburgh where a gunman entered a synagogue, yelled out some hateful things, and then proceeded to shoot, killing and wounding a number of people.

     So, is it easier to love or to hate?  I suspect that people far wiser than I have answers, some of them might even be the thesis for a PHD.  But I have a theory, not produced by careful scientific research, but produced out of the experiences of my life.  Here’s my theory: when one is personally connected to another, it is easier to love and harder to hate that one; when one is not personally connected to another, it is easier to hate and harder to love that one.

     When I was in high school I lived about three blocks from the school, so one of the ways that I would get to school was to ride my bike. One day in my junior year as I was going home from baseball practice I was stopped on my bike at the corner of 55^thStreet and Grant street where there was a traffic light.  As I waited for the light to change, alongside me came a car, a convertible, with two of my baseball teammates aboard. Just as the light was changing to green and I was resetting myself on my bike, the two of them leaned over toward me, hacked up a bunch of mucus, and spit on me.  I wish I could say that that was the only time that these two guys turned their ire on me.  It was not. But when that happened, I did not find much love in my heart for them, but I could feel hate bubbling up. The connection as teammates was not very deep.

     I could only imagine what my reaction would be if such a thing was done to me by someone with whom I am deeply connected…..because thankfully, it hasn’t.  However, when I have seen someone’s child or spouse “spit” at the one who is connected to them by flesh and bone, or by the promise of their word, I have seen how hatred still has a hard time taking hold of a heart that shares in a rhythm of love. Undoubtedly, the pain would be more severe, but when connections run deeper than the ocean, even pain doesn’t have the power to overcome the impulses of love.

     For me, the thing that I base my hope in God’s love for me is exactly in such a deep connection that God has made with me, the connection that he has made in taking on human flesh, and the connection that he has made in shedding his blood for me.  Truth is, that I have done to this One, God, who has so deeply connected himself to me, that those with whom I am most deeply connected have not.  I have “spit” in God’s face….not just once….but over, and over again. And although God would have every reason to hate me for my brazen actions, he doesn’t.  Instead, with the overriding forgiveness of Jesus, God still finds it in his heart to love me….every time.

     What would this world look like if people experienced a deep connection with one another?  Fact is, many do not feel a deep connection with certain others….surely that was the case this weekend with the gunman and the folks in that synagogue.  But the Bible tells us that that man had somehow missed apprehending this important fact: there was, indeed, a deep connection between him and those folks in that synagogue.  You see, when Jesus died on that cross, all people became connected to him, like spokes on a wheel.  And just as every spoke needs to be connected for a wheel to carry the weight of the bike, so likewise Jesus connected every person at the intersection of that cross in order that that cross would bear the weight of the love of the one who was nailed upon it. 

      Is it easier to love or hate?  In Jesus Christ, God is at work connecting everyone in the deepest connection possible, and in so doing,  to make love come to life and hate meet its end.  The joy of the Christian faith is that we get to be part of that work, too.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord 10-22-18

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The Bungee Cord  10-15-18

Hello,

     How many Lutherans does it take to change a lightbulb?

     For those of you who are somewhat new to Christianity, or wonder why there are so many different names for groups of Christians (Lutherans, Roman Catholics, Pentecostal, Baptist, Episcopal, Presbyterian, Methodists, “non-denominational”… leaving out a bunch, and not even mentioning the distinct groups within each group (not all Lutherans are of the same branch of Lutheranism)), you may sometimes wonder what is going on?  Can’t we all just call ourselves “Christian” and leave it at that.

     Well, I hope that we do call each other “Christian”, no matter what particular group of Christianity we find ourselves in.  Problem is, though, that for most of Christian history, Christians have not done so.  The history of Christianity has been littered with claims of one group of Christians possessing the truth, and others being judged as falling short of the truth. Many, therefore, have seen this grouping of Christians by different names as a defect in the Christian church, a sign of our brokenness.  And when any group of Christians makes the arrogant claim that they have the corner on the truth, I agree that that is a sign of brokenness. 

     But personally, as a Lutheran Christian, not claiming that my understanding and practice is right and everyone else’s is wrong, I see the divisions of Christianity, not as a sign of brokenness, but as a sign of the breadth of the God who has revealed himself to us in Jesus Christ.

     I am not an expert on music, but I do know this, that when many different instruments play harmonically together, it is far more beautiful than having 100 of the same instruments all playing the same notes.  Rock and roll, classical, country….you name it… the combination of instruments and voices resonating harmonically together creates a wonderful beauty.

     Fact is, that is the wonder of the Bible, and thereby the Christian faith.  When you read the Bible you find that it is “symphonic” in its presentation.  If you read the first four books of the New Testament, you find different Gospel “instruments” being played.  Matthew is playing an instrument that is very concerned with connecting Jesus with the writings and practices of the Old Testament.  Mark is far more trumpet-like, just trying to quickly blare the message out.  Luke seems to be playing to those who may have been less connected to the Jewish traditions.  And John is like an organ, complex in its construction, and one who plays it plays with hands and feet and accomplished skill.  That is the way it is throughout the Bible….and thereby, in my mind, the Christian faith.

     Why are there so many groups within Christianity?  Well, because Christianity is, and always has been, composed of people playing different instruments, seeking to make beautiful music together…the beautiful music of the good news of God’s love in Jesus Christ.  When people ask me to speak of the differences between Christian groups, I find myself far less interested in making judgements on who is right or wrong, and far more interested in describing the kind of instrument of Christianity they are playing.

     I happen to play the guitar, and because of that, I know something about my instrument.  But ask me about an oboe…..well, I know very little, so my explanations of others is certainly lacking.  (That is why it is good to talk to someone who plays a different instrument in God’s band than you.)  I know my Christian instrument best (Lutheran)….an instrument that is strung with a supreme reliance on God’s love for us that spurs our love for God and others….an instrument that is grounded in the claim that God has made on us that shapes our lives and our faith….an instrument that experiences God’s tangible presence in Baptism and Communion….an instrument that doesn’t wait for me to find God, but trumpets God’s relentless search to find me and embrace me…an instrument where the mercy of God is boldly sounded.  As a Lutheran Christian playing in God’s Gospel band, I believe it is my job to take this instrument that God has given me and play it the best that I can, and enable others who play this instrument to do so, too.  I believe that is the role of every Christian group, so that when we play our song of God’s revelation in Jesus Christ, it rings with a beauty and grace that captivates the world, and also invites the world to play along in the instrument section with the instrument that they have been given to play.

     Of course, every instrument and instrumentalist has its strengths and weaknesses, things that need to be worked on and challenged.  Therein lies the answer to my opening question.

     How many Lutherans does it take to change a lightbulb?

     Change?

     We are working on that.  Hope you’ll work on it with us if this is the instrument that you are carrying. But if you are carrying a different instrument, I know this, that section of the band is hoping that you will work on it with them, too.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord
10-8-18

Hello,

     Last week if you were watching the weather channel, you would have seen my house.  Well, not exactly, but you would have seen exactly where I live, because a huge storm cloud that was swirling in the air passed right over my house.  I know that we made national news because we were contacted by some people living in the Midwest wondering if we were okay.

     It was an eerie event when the cloud went over us.  A wall of rain came down out of the southwest, accompanied by 50-60 mile an hour winds.  Swirling leaves joined the pelting rain as the sky got darker. Then, in a matter of a moment, everything changed.  The rain and wind had turned to come from the Northeast.  No twister reached the ground, but the skies were certainly a-swirl.  When we saw the storm coming we followed the warning of the weather channel and went into our lower level where we have a room that is completely cement enclosed.  It is a room under our front porch….we call it our bomb shelter.  (It also serves as our wine cellar…..handy.)  We never had to dash into it, but we were ready if the swirling sky decided to touch the earth.

     Fact is, this isn’t the first voracious storm to wander our way. We live on top of a hill that with the ridge across from us, there is a sort of half-pipe that invites storms to show off their trickery.  It seems that at least once a year, we have very strong straight winds that rattle our windows and walls, and tear off roof shingles.  When our house was being built, the construction company had to secure the outhouse to a tree to keep it from being toppled over by the “breeze”.  I don’t know why the weather channel decided to let the world in on our suffering, because most of the time when the storms descend upon us, we do it unbeknownst to the rest of the world.

     I suspect that the same thing can be said of all of us, and the storms that descend into our lives.  There are times when the winds rattle our lives and knock us off the ground – the death of a loved one, a hospital emergency, a job that disappears, a marriage that breaks up – and people, aware of the storm, will check in to make sure that we are alright.   And we are thankful for their care.  But more often, I am sure that many get hit by some pretty rough storms – depression, family conflict, money concerns – and no one knows.  They struggle and suffer silently.

     There are a variety of reasons why people keep their struggles to themselves.  Maybe they don’t want to seem weak in a world that demeans weaklings.  Maybe they don’t want to pester other people, who have problems of their own, with the struggles that they are dealing with.  Maybe they are embarrassed by their struggles, believing that they are the only ones who deal with such things.  Maybe they don’t have anyone to talk to, or if they do, they don’t have anyone who they think really cares.

     I have personally found out that there are folks around us who erase those reasons for silently suffering, people who are a blessing. Sometimes they are hard to find, but they are there, and like a buried treasure, they are worth hunting for.  So if….no when…storms take aim on you…..know that you don’t have to suffer silently.

     But even more important than hunting for someone with whom to give you bolster when the storms hit, is to know that there is one is hunting for you, to be your be your shelter and shield when the storm clouds approach.  The Lord.

Psalm 46
¹ God is our refuge and strength,
   a very present help in trouble. ² Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
   though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; ³ though its waters roar and foam,
   though the mountains tremble with its tumult.
         ⁴ There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
   the holy habitation of the Most High. ⁵ God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved;
   God will help it when the morning dawns. ⁶ The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter;
   he utters his voice, the earth melts. ⁷ The Lord of hosts is with us;
   the God of Jacob is our refuge.
          ⁸ Come, behold the works of the Lord;
   see what desolations he has brought on the earth. ⁹ He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
   he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear;
   he burns the shields with fire. ¹⁰ ‘Be still, and know that I am God!
   I am exalted among the nations,
   I am exalted in the earth.’ ¹¹ The Lord of hosts is with us;
   the God of Jacob is our refuge.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord   10-1-18

Hello,

     Why do you call this “The Bungee Cord?”

     Nearly 25 years ago when I was the pastor in a small Ohio town, I noticed as I looked out at the congregation that a certain segment of that small town was missing, 18-35 year old’s.  Knowing that Jesus died for them, too, I tried to think of a way to reach them with that great news.  So, instead of waiting for them to come to me, I decided to go to them via a new technology that had just become available: email.

     One of the “ah ha” things that I learned in seminary was that God is a God of zealous grace.  So zealous is he for those that he loves that he will stop at nothing to love them into his embrace.  He died for them.  And so zealous is he for those that he loves, that he is not about to let his dying love would not be in vain.  He will not let them go.   1 John 3:1 says it so well, “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God, and that is what we are.”

     With this “ah ha” in mind, another new “technology” came to mind as a visual expression of God’s zealous love: a Bungee Cord….as in Bungee Jumping.  (Those of you who were around then can remember what a fad it was…a fad that I never jumped into!)  It seemed to me to be the perfect image for what I was trying to accomplish, reach folks in the 18-35 year range.  After all, for many that is a time of jumping into life in a bungee jumping way. Prepared, or unprepared, everyone in that stage of life takes that leap into new adventures.  By dubbing the e-mail that I would weekly send to them “The Bungee Cord”, I was hoping to tell them two things about the adventure that lay ahead.  First, they weren’t jumping alone.  God, like a Bungee Cord, was holding them tight.  Second, no matter where their adventure would take them, God would never let them go, and, like a Bungee Cord, pull them back into his embrace.

     How do I know that God’s love is so Bungee Cord-ly zealous? Well, Jesus tells a story of a father who had two sons (18-25 years old?), one who brashly asked for his inheritance while his father was still quite alive.  Then, as if jumping off a bridge, that son went on an adventure in a faraway land, far away from his father and the life that his father had tried to instill in him.  So hair raising was this adventure that he found himself starving while he was keeping pigs alive…..and then Jesus says that something amazing happened…..Jesus said, “but when HE CAME TO HIMSELF” he realized there was hope.  

     When Jesus said, “HE CAME TO HIMSELF,” that young man realized who he was: the son of a loving father.  Even when he had plunged into a canyon of despair deeper than he could have ever dreamed of, his father’s love still reached him, and as the story goes, pulled him back.  And as he was pulled back to his father, he discovered that his father was still looking for his return.  Before he could reach his father, his father ran out to him, embraced him, put the finest clothes he had on him, and put the family ring on his finger, and threw a party for him!

     There’s more to the story, showing how the father also held the other brother tightly, too….but I’ll save that for another time.  This story has traditionally been called the parable of the “prodigal son”,  but I think a better title for it would be “The Bungee Cord Zealous Loving Father”.  (I know, a bit long for a title….but it fits, I think.)

     Over the years my audience has widened to people of all ages, because as I have aged beyond the 18-35 year old bracket, I have discovered that every day for me is a step into a hair-raising adventure.  I need to know, and likewise I want everyone to know, that no jump is made alone, and no matter where that jump will take a jumper, God will not let go and will bring the jumper back into God’s embrace.

     So, whether the jump you took this morning when you stepped out of bed was terrifying or mild, I hope that in reading this Bungee Cord you will take that jump with great courage and empowering hope.  “See what love the Father has given us that we should be called children of God, and that is what we are.”

Have a great week,

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord   9-25-18

Hello,

     As I write today’s Bungee Cord, some time has passed since Hurricane Florence struck the southeast leaving a trail of turmoil behind it.  I am sure that for those who were hit by the storm, time has stopped and it seems like just yesterday that the winds and the water were surging.  For some, these tragic and capricious storms stir up questions, questions of divine doubt. “How can you believe in a God who makes/lets storms like this happen?”

     Personally, I think that this question is a good question, because it recognizes the pain and suffering that storms of this nature bring. And because it is a thoughtful question, I think it deserves a thoughtful answer.  When I hear Christians answer, “Well, God has a plan for everything,” to me, that is an answer that is given with little thoughtful wrestling with the misery that has cascaded into people’s lives.  Or, when I hear Christians say, “It is a punishment for ________,” I find that a lacking answer because it usually is a punishment for someone else’s stumblings, or it forgets that those who are inflicted by a tragedy are not the only ones that might come under the judgment of punishment. Or, when I hear Christians say, “God is trying to teach us something,” it seems to me that such teaching is like trying to kill a fly with a sledgehammer, and who would want that kind of teacher?

     How can I believe in a God who makes/lets storms like this happen?  My answer, as incomplete as it might be is this; the God that I believe in has shown that he doesn’t passively and callously just watch the storms roll in, he jumps into the storm and rescues people, saves people.  That is what Jesus, and Christianity, is all about.  The God that I have come to see in Jesus flies like a hurricane chasing plane, right into the center of the storm to be where the storm is the strongest.  This God doesn’t turn tail and run when the storm is fierce, but walks right into it and takes it on, head on.  This God throws all caution to the wind, and winds up in a death battle with the storm on a cross.  This God even goes to the place where storms claim their final victory, the grave, and steals that victory from them.  The reason that I can believe in a God who makes/lets storms (whether it is true that it is God who makes/lets storms happen is another question that for today’s Bungee Cord, I am passing over….maybe a Bungee Cord to come?)….the reason that I can believe in a God who makes/lets storms happen is that the God that I believe in takes on every storm…..and wins!

     It may be that you, like I, missed the brunt of Hurricane Florence’s fury, but you and I know that there are plenty of storms ahead, not necessarily meteorological ones, that will take aim at us and hit us head on. And when that happens there are two things that, like those floaters that wander in your eyes, come into my vision; the Good Friday cross and the empty Easter morning grave.  In a battle in which only God, who is beyond time, can engage, Jesus, the Son of God, gathers into the battle cage of the cross, every storm that rumbles into life, and in a battle to the death, crushes the life right out of those storms.  Breathing his last breath and shouting, “It is finished.”  And in a victory that only God, the author of life, can claim, Jesus, the Good Shepherd, leads his flock through the valley of the shadow of death, not needing fear any evil.

     When I see storms, like Hurricane Florence, stampede in this world, it is hard for me to believe that anyone would risk their lives, fly into the center of the storm…or risk their lives and stay with those who cannot escape it.  But they do. And when I see storms of any kind take their deadly aim at people, I find it hard to believe that there is a God who charges into the eye of the storm, risking everything….but in Jesus I see that that is exactly what God does….and that is why I believe in this God.

Prayers for all who suffer.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger