The Bungee Cord  7-28-19

Hello,

     As some of you know, I grew up in Hinsdale, Illinois. 17 miles from Chicago.  It was a quaint little suburban town, an idyllic place to grow up.  Except for learning how to drive.   At the time I thought nothing of the congestion, the highway speeds, and the assertiveness that I developed, but as I have moved into more rural areas, I wonder how I made it through my younger and learning years as a driver.  There are some with whom I drive now, who share my amazement by the way that I drive.

     So, I was driving home from visiting a friend in Maryland. It is major interstates the whole way. The traffic was significantly heavy the entire way with little open high way.   Even though it has been many decades since my suburban, highway driving, I still find myself easily provoked by “bad” drivers.  I don’t like it when semi’s venture into “my” lane, the passing lane, and slow me down as they inch their way past a slower moving truck.  I don’t like it when  someone drives in “my” lane at the speed limit and won’t move into the slower lane…. I confess that I always add a couple of mph’s to the speed limit when I drive.  And I don’t like it when people slow down….and even stop!...on an on-ramp!  The Chicago driver still has its foot on my gas pedal and my hands on the steering wheel.

     Anyway, as I was driving along on my way home yesterday, even I decided that I should slow down as I was coming up to a car in the outside lane.  It looked to me that the car was a convertible and its roof was coming off. Trouble!  But, as I neared it, I discovered that I was wrong.  In actuality, it was a Volkswagen Jetta station wagon with a foam mattress strapped to its roof.  The mattress had become a sail, creating a 45 degree angle with the roof, one end of it just above the back bumper, and the other end rising into the sky.  It was strapped to the roof by two straps, one crossing the first third of the mattress, and the other crossing the back third.  No part of the mattress was touching the car.  As I reached the car, I looked at the driver who was calmly smoking a cigarette, travelling at 70 miles an hour.  Not wanting to be the one upon whom this sailing mattress would take its flight, I punched my gas pedal and passed it.

     Surely, I thought, this person would be aware of the danger that they were causing and pull off the road, but no.  We passed a rest stop….the car did not exit.  We past several exits, and the car did not exit. And finally when I got off the turnpike at the Donegal exit, the car with mattress a-sail passed me on the interstate as I got off.  And as I exited, I thought to myself with my Chicago driving mind, “Where did that person learn to drive!?!”

     I suspect that the same thing could be said of me, not of my driving on highways, but of my driving in life.  “Where did you learn to drive.”  I say that because I am sure that there are many times in my life when I have driven foolishly in life, not thinking of the consequences of my driving (figuratively, that is).  Endangering people by decisions that I have made.  Causing fear in others.  Completely unaware of my foolishness, pressing on as if I was in the right.  

     And I am certain that there are many times in my life that God has come upon me and can’t believe what he sees.  I am sure that God has come upon me and wondered how I could be so foolish….and dangerous.  Do I intend to cause pain in the lives of others…in the heart of God?  Most often not.  Most often the pain that I cause is beyond my intent, a result of foolish ignorance of systemic entrapment.  But here’s the thing…as I look at the cross…the most foolish pain that humans could have ever brought upon the heart of God…I hear a word from Jesus, “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.”

     I trust in that word of forgiveness, for I know that I have much more in common that that foolish mattress driver than I would wish. I thank God that God forgives even my foolish ignorance.  But more than that, I thank God that God’s forgiveness gives me the courage to look honestly at my life so that I can without defensiveness see my foolishness and not be so foolish, and likewise be humble enough to forgive other people’s foolishness.

     Thank you, Lord, for forgiving me, even when I am a fool.  Thank you, Lord, for opening my eyes to my foolishness.  And thank you, Lord, for helping me look upon the foolishness of others with forgiveness, too.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

     

The Bungee Cord 7-22-19

Hello,

It is summer in Western Pennsylvania.  Hot. Humid.

Yesterday we had an outdoor worship service at the church that I am serving.  Good planning!  The church building is not air conditioned (I remember that most church buildings were not air conditioned when I was a kid.), and so on hot, humid days it gets quite stuffy inside.

On these hot summer days, I have taken to not wearing my robe, and I lead the worship service wearing my clergy shirt….you know the black thing with the white tongue depressor in the collar.  But even downdressed, I find that I sweat buckets up front.  Between the nervous sweat that comes from being up front, the sweat that comes from keeping my brain going, and the sweat that comes from the heat from the extra lights on the altar….by the time that worship is over, I am soaked.  And I suspect that even though I prepare myself with a generous application of deodorant, I stink.

But, of course, I don’t think that I was aromatically alone in church.  By the flurry of waving, fanning bulletins, and the sharing of stuffy space, I am sure that there were many engaged in sweating on those hot and humid days.  We all stank. At least a bit.

In some ways, though, having a church-full of stinking people is a good reminder to us about why we gather every Sunday morning, and that is, there is a stink to each of our lives that fouls our lives and the world.  A stink that only the shower of God’s grace and mercy can eliminate.

The stink of our lives, of course, does not come from sweating.  It comes from sin, and the stink from sin is far different from the stink of sweating.  The stink of sin is the stink that comes from rot and decay.  It is the smell that permeates the air when you drive by a deer that has been hit by a car and has been lying there for several days.  It is a smell that is nose curdling.  It is the stink that comes for the pain and agony of harsh and stabbing words.  It is the stink that comes from the pain from a child’s belly who hasn’t eaten in days. It is the stink of the pain that comes from betrayal and neglect.  It is the stink of rot and decay.  A stink that no amount of deodorant can eliminate.

But the good news is this:  Jesus did not come as a divine deodorant.  Jesus came as a death killing death-a-cide.  He didn’t come just to wipe on some sweet smelling salve.  He came to wipe out death.  “So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!”2 Corinthians 5.17

That is what every Sunday is all about.  We who stink…not from sweat…but from the rot of the decay in our lives….we come to have that rot and stink taken away.  We come to have Jesus do to us that which only Jesus can do….wipe out death with life, his life..  We come a’ stinkin’….we leave a’ livin’.  It is true that death’s rot takes ahold of us as we walk back into the world, but it is also, or even more true, that Christ’s life spreads more fully into our lives every time we are re-invigorated by his grace and mercy.  Every time we walk out of worship and back into the world, we bring with us a sweet, sweet aroma of hope, peace, forgiveness, and love until the day when the stench of sin and death will be overwhelmed.

So, if you’re in the area (Ligonier, Pa), let me invite you to come and sweat with us, and don’t worry that you might sweat too much, or stink too badly.  Truth is, we all stink….and that is why we are there.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  7-15-19

Hello,

It’s a bear!

Last week I and my son were sitting alongside the stream at my brother-in-law’s house.  He lives about 8 miles from us on a hillside acreage bordered by a cool, clear mountain stream.  Sitting there amongst the trees, watching the water cascade over the rocks and stones, listening to the gurgling stream, and relaxing in the cool shade……well, it is a peace that can calm even the most stirred soul.  It is easy to get lost in the serenity of it all, and the world almost goes away.

As I was chatting away with my son, I saw in the corner of my eye something move.  I just caught the hind end of it as it passed behind the other side of the house.  At first, I thought it was some big, black dog….but then I realized that there was no tail on it, and its hind end was higher than a dog’s.  

“I think I just saw a bear,” I calmly told my son, hoping not to stir it.  We quietly went into the house to see if we could see it, and sure enough, ten feet from the patio door, there it stood.  Big and black.  When I whispered to my son saying, “Its over here,” the bear heard me.  It turned its head toward me, gave me a curious look, turned back with a sort of ho-hum expression, and slowly walked away

It was a bear!  The first one that I have seen since we moved here 8 years ago.  I have always been told that there are numerous bear living around here, but to this point I have not met the acquaintance of any of them.  Spotting it, and having a close encounter with it brought a range of emotions.  Excited to see this elusive creature.    Amazed that something that big roams around me daily, I just don’t know it.  Curious to see it’s behavior.  Frightened, aware that it dwarfed me and I might look like a good dinner appetizer.  And as it walked away, I was thrilled to experience the wonder of a close encounter with such a magnificent being.

I had to tell people. Share my excitement.  “I saw a bear!”

Interestingly enough, the Bible often tells of times when folks have a close encounter with God, and when it happens, those whose experience is told is the same gambit as my visit with the bear.  Over and over again in the New Testament, when people’s lives intersected with Jesus’ streams of emotions flowed in their hearts.  Excited. Amazed.  Curious.  Afraid. Thrilled.

I find myself likewise awash in a multitude of emotion when God’s path and mine cross in close proximity.  For me, it happens most often when I come to the Altar and receive Holy Communion, the bread and wine that carries Jesus’ promise of his presence.  Excited to hold in my hands a morsel of divine love in a world where love is often hard to see.  Amazed that something so mighty roams around me daily, but I am not always aware of it. Curious to see what God will do in my life with his love.  Frightened to consider my absolute unworthiness of such an encounter……and when I leave the altar, I find myself thrilled to experience the wonder of such a close encounter with such a magnificent being….the Lord.

Like the encounter with the bear, my encounter with the Lord takes hold of my heart.  I want to share the dent of grace that it has made in my life. But this I know, when I get up from the Altar, I who have been graced with this divine encounter, will never be the same.  I will be more aware of God’s daily presence in my life.  I will be more conscious of God’s love for me.  And I will be empowered to treat those around me with renewed grace upon grace.

God is good at surprising us with close encounters with him, encounters that happen in a myriad of ways. I hope that the weekly Bungee Cord is at least a brief glimpse of such an encounter.  A glimpse that changes your life.  A glimpse that gives you hope and peace.  A glimpse that sets you awash in joy, and you say…..”I saw the LORD!”

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord   7-7-19

Hello,

     Last week, I wrote to you from Denver.  Well, I got home on the 4^th, and I although I am glad to have made my cross-country visits, I am evenly glad to be back home….sleeping in my own bed, living by my familiar schedule, and OUT OF THE CAR!  It is a long ride from Pittsburgh to Denver, and for my sake and Duncan’s sake (my travelling companion dog) we broke it up into three days.  On the way there and back, I discovered that Kearney, Nebraska is the “Sandhill Crane Capital of the World”, and that Lexington, Nebraska’s (out in the middle of nowhere) high school team is named “The Sailors”.

     By in large the travelling was smooth.  Traffic wasn’t too bad, and the weather, although really hot, wasn’t too stormy…..except as I was headed east toward Des Moines, Iowa. If you have ever travelled I-80 through Nebraska and Iowa, you know that the horizon is wide open and the road is very straight.  So, I had a clear view of the dark clouds into which I was driving.  Thick and dark.  Towering into the air.  Lightning flashing between them, filled with an ocean full of rain.

     As it happens so often in long car rides, one passes and is passed by the same fellow I-80 traveler.  So it happened with me on my into Des Moines.  Every time that I passed this traveler, and this traveler passed me, I knew it was the same traveler, because unlike every other travel on the interstate that day, this traveler was riding a motor cycle.  It was one of those loud motor cycles that rumbles along the road, so I could hear him coming.  The rider was covered from head to toe in black, with a small opening in his helmet for his face.  Even his hands were covered in black gloves, which he would regularly alternatively take off his handle grips and open and close in a stretching motion.  He never glanced my way.  His face locked on the road in front of him

     As we drove toward Des Moines, but more importantly as we drove into the impending storm, I surmised that he and I were harboring different concerns.  My concern was to keep awake at the wheel after 8 hours on the road.  His concern, I am sure, was far more fixed on the storm in front of us.  How bad would the storm be?  Would he have to take shelter under some overpass?  Would he have to get off the road sooner than he had hoped?  In my Subaru Forester, I had no fear of the storm. On his motor cycle, I am certain that the impending storm consumed his thoughts and his fears.

     When I consider my journey through life as a Christian, God would want me to know that I am not making my way through life on a motor cycle, riding into storms completely at the mercy of those storms, with consuming fear the appropriate response.  No, because of Jesus, God has placed me in a vehicle far stronger than a Subaru….or even a Hummer…actually as Martin Luther derived from Psalm 46, “A mighty fortress”. (Take a look at Psalm 46 and Luther’s rendition of it in his hymn, “A Mighty Fortress is Our God”.)  So, as I approach the storms of life….and they seem to intersect my path often…I need not fear.  Instead, I can proceed with confidence and hope, and even stop and help those who are suffering from the brunt of the storm.

     Thing is, I often travel with my windows open, and feel the breeze blowing through the few strands of hair that I have left…..and I can begin to imagine myself aboard a motor cycle.  I believe that such imagination is exactly what God’s detractors wish to trap you and me in.  And when that happens, the fear that the motorcyclist fears can soon take hold of our hearts.  But I hope that the Bungee Cord is a weekly reminder to you of the truth.  You are not on a motorcycle….you are in “a mighty fortress”.  A fortress…a Hummer….that can contend with any storm…even a severe thunderstorm….even a tornado.  So, when you see a huge storm gathering in front of you, sit up straight, put the petal to the metal, keep your eyes open for those who need your help, because you are not riding on a motorcycle….you are riding in the LORD.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  7-1-19

Hello,

     As I write today’s Bungee Cord, I am Denver visiting my eldest son.  I drove out here a couple of days ago with my dog, Duncan, making a couple day stop in Davenport, Iowa to visit my folks.  It has been a long ride in my car, but with my trusty dog by my side, his head in my lap….it hasn’t been too bad.

     My son, who is a graphic designer, has a never ending appetite for adventure and curiosity.  He moved out here with no job in hand, but has landed on his feet well in every way. It is always an adventure visiting him, because his creative juices are always stirring, and when we visit we find ourselves caught up in their current.  This visit coincides with the building of a tear drop camper from scratch. When he told me of his idea to do this, I mentioned to him that one can get a kit and assemble it.  No…no….build it from scratch.  And so that is what he has been doing for the last several months. 

     No kit.  No plans! Just build it from scratch.  He ordered a trailer that when it came was not built to the specifications that he had expected.  He had to do some early modifications.  Then he sat down and drew out his design, bought the wood, and started building.  Remember, he is a graphic designer, not a carpenter.  So, every cut of wood and pounded nail is a bit of an untrodden adventure.  Well, at this juncture the side walls have gone up, and we have been placing the flooring on the base.  I, too, am not a carpenter.  A pastor, I am, so I don’t offer much advice.  So, when things don’t fall quite into place as planned, I watch my son’s creative mind take on the next challenge and move on from there.  Although I am not certain, I am quite sure that when all is said and done, he will have a fine camper.  A camper that he can be proud of.   A camper that can be pulled down the road.  And a camper that fits his camping needs.

     Sometimes I hear people say that when things happen in life, it is all of God’s plan, a plan that God has well drawn out, with specifications where nails are to be pounded and cuts to be made.  As I experience the work of God in my life, I don’t see things working quite that way.  Instead, I see things working far more in the way that my son is creating his tear drop camper.  He knows what it is going to look like, and in the end, it is going to get there. Likewise, I have come to see that God knows what I am going to look like….his child….and in the end, I am going to get there. Because I shift and move, sometimes the nails get put in places that they were not intended, and cuts are made that create difficulties in the building.  But because I am the handiwork of a very adept builder, far more adept than my son or me, I am confident that in the end, I will turn out to be what my builder intends me to be, his child.

     And maybe even more important, I also have great confidence that no matter how hard the construction might be, and how much fancy work God needs to do on me, he will never come to the point of throwing up his hands, and say, “I give up.”  The reason for my confidence is the price that he has paid to build me into his child….the death of his Son, Jesus.

     So, when you feel the pain of a nail in the wrong place….or the world has sliced in a very painful and clumsy way….remember, as I do, who the builder is:  God Almighty who sent his son to die and rise in order that you and I might be his child. Remember who the builder is and know that even though the nail placement or the cut may not have been made perfectly according to some well drawn out plan, that you and I are the handiwork of a builder who makes right the wrongs so that in the end we will be exactly what he has intended us to be: his children.  Children that he is proud of.  Children who will make it down life’s road.  Children who he will be part of his incarnational adventure to change the world with his love.

     Happy camping….have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger