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