The Bungee Cord 11-28-22

Hello,

All three of my sons were able to come to my house for Thanksgiving. Along with them came two daughter-in-laws, a mother-in-law, a dog and (of course!) my grandson. It was a grand time. One of the things that happened was that we all gathered around the TV one evening to watch a movie, a movie that we annually watch when my kids visit around this time of the year: “Home Alone 1”.

The high-jinx of Kevin’s defensive operations and the slap stick punishment received by the robbers never gets old. I suppose that there are some that might be appalled at the violence of irons hitting someone in the face and door knobs heated to flesh burning temperature, but to me these antics are just plain funny and silly. The movie’s shenanigans tickle my soul.

There are many tender and maybe even Christ-centered moments in the film that accompany the laughter and the “suspense”: the blessing of family, the power of forgiveness, the goodness that can be found in a neighbor’s heart, but the deepest thing that strikes me about “Home Alone” is the Christian message, and that is that one is never home alone.

Although the premise of the movie (that a child might find himself left behind at Christmans) is highly unlikely, in the real world begin forgotten, getting lost, wandering away happens all the time. In a doctor’s office when the doctor says, “There is nothing more we can do for you.” At school when someone gossips a secret. At home when you have made a mess of your life and you feel the cold shoulder. When you have chased after something, only to find out that you were on a snipe hunt. When the world is spinning so fast that you are exhausted and can’t keep up. When you look into the mirror and see the zit on your life that won’t go away.

And when you find yourself all alone, that is when the “sticky robbers” (I think that is what the Home Alone robbers called themselves) attack. To rob you of hope. To steal away joy. To fill you with fear. To snatch away your future. And the thing is that unlike the movie where Kevin’s cleverness outwits the robbers, that doesn’t always happen in real life.

But here is something that did happen in real life, in Jesus, Almighty God made his home in your life and mine. As the book of John puts it this way, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it….And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”

The point is this, you and I are never home alone. There is not one moment in your life or mine that we are left alone to the robbers and thieves of this world. As a matter of fact, Jesus has shown us that he will lay down his life to save us from the likes of such menacing evil. So when the robbers and thieves of the world say, “I am going to get you!”, listen to the one who always resides in your life, “27My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. 28I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. 29What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father’s hand.*30The Father and I are one.’ (John 10)

So, as the angels of Christmas told the shepherds, hear them tell you as Christmas nears, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah,* the Lord.”

You are never “Home Alone.”

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

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 The Bungee Cord 11-21-22

Hello,

Here’s one way to find out that you are old: when you see someone wearing a letter jacket and the number on their shoulder is “24”, and the to be worn on my shoulder of mine was “75”.

That is what happened this past Sunday as I was in the welcome area of the small church at which I worship and belong. A young gal walked in behind her grandmother who was walking slowly with the cane that she needed to get her around. The folks who were around me greeted the both of them, as I knew neither of them, and the grandmother indicated that the young gal with her was her grand-daughter (everyone else knew that but me) who had called her this morning and wondered if the grandmother was going to church as she would like to go along. The grand-daughter had a pleasant air to her, smiling and caring for her grandmother, and she was wearing the letter jacket of the local high school, and on her shoulder was the number “24”.

They went into the worship space, as did I. It was a cold day (wind chill 3 degrees) and so the attendance was more sparce than usual; 23 was the usher’s count. When worship was over everyone reconvened in the welcome space because it is the custom at this church to have cookies and coffee afterwards. As it happened the grandmother and grand-daughter were part of the group that remained. The grandmother was wrapped in conversation with the people of her generation, but I noticed the grand-daughter standing by herself, off to the side. Remembering what I learned years ago in a seminary class on ministry with high school aged folks, that when one high school boy was asked what the church could do to help him feel more welcome and part of things, he said, “I would just like to be treated as if I was there.”…..I walked up to the granddaughter and said, “I noticed that you have a high school letter jacket?”

She said, “Yes,” and told me her grade level. I responded that I knew someone in her grade from my previous parish. She knew that person, too. And then when I asked what she was involved in to have a letter jacket, she told me that she played softball. I asked he what position she played. “Pitcher,” she said.

“Oh,” I said with kinship in my heart, “When I was your age, I was a pitcher, too!” And that is when I told her that the number to be worn on my letter jacket was “75”.

She snickered.

The church, for all of its faults (and faults it has, after all it’s a group of sinners who need forgiveness, and that includes me) can me an amazing place. It can be a place where an agile high school girl can take her place next to a significantly challenged walking grandmother at the holy table of Communion. It can be a place where Harley motor cycle riders shake hands with the aged whose hands are fragile. It can be a place where the cry of a baby is welcomed with joy. It can be a place where a person who has just made a mess of their life is hugged and with that hug a fellow sinners says, “I am so glad that you are here.” It can be a place where the one who sits on the top of the hill with the weight of the world on their shoulders finds a few moments of peace. It can be a place where two who have wronged each other can shake hands and sincerely say, “The peace of the Lord be with you.” It can be a place where the words that come from the pulpit can break through the darkness of a person’s life with a ray of hope. It can be a place where death is deprived of the last word in a loved one’s life. It can be a place where a pitcher with a “75” on his shoulder finds something stronger than a baseball to have a reason to care about another pitcher with a “24” on her shoulder. It can be a place where life happens, where love happens, where joy happens, where hope happens, where forgiveness happens, and where peace happens……and it can be all of these things because it is a place where Jesus happens.

If you find yourself inclined not to go to church, for whatever reason, I hope this Bungee Cord has given you a slice of the pie that awaits you there. Awaits you there, not perfectly, but certainly whole-heartedly because Jesus is there and his love can do amazing things!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

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 The Bungee Cord 11-14-22

Hello,

As have all of you, last week the fall election took place here in Pennsylvania. Likewise as you, we were flooded with commercials, mailings, and signs purportedly supporting the candidates. I say purportedly because the vast majority of what I heard and saw were not in support of a candidate, but rather in non-support of the candidate’s opponent. Negative advertising. I don’t know about you, but the cascade of negative advertising around here created an atmosphere of toxic odor. Each negative add hit me with a squirt of skunk juice.

Election after election, I hear calls for the elimination of skunkish adds. But the cessation never happens, and the reason why candidates continue to spew these putrid smelling ads is this: they work. Negative adds cast doubts in the minds of the voter. When dirt is dug up about an opponent, people decide that they don’t want to have their names associated with such a slimy candidate, and so they put their name behind the “cleaner” one. Just like gossip around a high school lunch table, half-truths or even complete lies are spread like limburger cheese on a candidate and voters run from that candidate as if that one had just let out a fart in a 3rd grade classroom. Negative ads are strong repellants, turning voters away from one candidate and have those voters vote for the other.

The thing that I find amazing about God is this: negative advertising doesn’t work on God. Worse than the weeks leading up to a political election, God’s ears are daily flooded with negative advertising about me. People look at me and say to God, why would you choose such a one? One who has plenty of dirt to dig up from the foolishness and arrogance of my days. One whose mind unfairly judges others. One whose heart holds anger and revenge, whose eyes are blinded by the logs of my sin but somehow are able to see and rejoice in the speck in my neighbors eye. Someone whose patience for the struggles of others can be as thin as wet toilet paper. Someone who has scarred the lives of others, and brought pain to the heart of God. When it comes to me, the aroma of my life in the nostrils of God makes a skunk’s smell seem like perfume.

And yet….and yet….God has pulled the lever of election and choice for me. Like a voter who would let nothing keep him from voting…not thugs, not danger, not even the devil….God walked right up to the polling place of the cross, stretched out his arms, and with nails pounded through his hands selected me to be his vote. And when he breathed his last, he made that vote eternally unchangeable. Even if he wanted to, it was a vote that could not be changed. No amount of post-election negative advertising could do anything to change his vote. On the cross, God selected and elected me as his child…..forever!

What a vote of grace! Grace enough to take hold of my heart and change me. To change me into one whose heart has the rhythm of God’s, breaking when others’ hearts are being broken. To change me into one whose eyes see the world as God does, seeing each person as gemstones whose beauty may be yet to be uncovered. To change me into one whose ears hear as God’s do, where when even the tiniest tear of fear sounds like the explosion of an atomic bomb as it hits the ground. To change me into one who rests in peace in the embrace of God, instead of one who kicks and screams in this world thinking that can bring peace to my soul.

God voted for me….and you. In spite and despite the stench of the negative advertising that has inundated him about you and me. Why? Is it because we are worthy of his vote? Is it because he hopes that one day we will be worthy of his vote? Is it because God is stupid? I think no to all of these, and I say no to these because God has told us why pulled the lever for us on the cross: God loves you and me. God’s vote may seem senseless, irrational, and maybe even useless, but the depth of God’s love for you and me cancels everything else. God will have it no other way. You and I are to be his….now and forever.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

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 The Bungee Cord 11-7-22

Hello,

Last Wednesday I was blowing some leaves out from under a table that sits on our patio, and suddenly I felt something attach itself to my upper lip. As I was attempting to swat it off, I felt a sting. A bee. Now, I have been stung by bees before on other places of my body, and the sting brings with it a pinch that lasts a short while. This time, even though I rushed to get some ice to put on my lip, the stinging continued (actually until the next morning), my lip swelled up, and I had some difficulty speaking clearly. Even today, my lip has the waning feeling of a shot of Novocain which was far more pronounced for a couple of days after the sting.

Since the stinging went on, I googled, “What should I do if a bee stings my lip?” I found out some interesting things. Apparently, bees actually aim for lips and noses. They hone in on breath to make their attack. When they sting the stinger remains in the target, releasing venom, and when a bee’s venom oozes into a lip, it causes swelling, and it causes pain that can last up to 48 hours. Tylenol can help to ease the pain, and Benadryl can help with the swelling, but as I have found out that ultimately, one just has to live with the effects of the sting for several days. So far, six days for me. Who would have ever believed that a thing as small as a bee and its stinger could wreak such havoc.

When I look at the world around me, I find myself often caught in similar disbelief. Who would have thought that something as small as a little sin and its sting could wreak such havoc? The Bible speaks of the havoc of sin and its sting, “The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.” (1 Cor. 15:56) Death, says the Bible, like an angry bee is on the attack, with a sting of sin that brings pain, suffering, and ultimately death to its victims. We see the truth of this born daily borne out in our world. One little stinging sin of a lie can cause lasting pain and even the death of trust. One little stinging sin of making a god of something not worthy of that name (alcohol, job, fortune, excitement) can cause lasting pain and even death when that god falls short of its claim of power. One little stinging sin of violence can cause lasting pain and even death in communities and the world when the match of cruelty is lit. It is amazing what havoc death’s sting of sin can make.

Like a bee stung lip, death’s sting of sin brings lingering pain and swelling, numbing us to the life around us. But unlike a bee sting to which our only recourse is to live with it until it is gone, that is not the case with death’s sting of sin. Hear the words that surround the Bible verse I cited above,

“‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’

55 ‘Where, O death, is your victory?

Where, O death, is your sting?’

56The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

The good news is that the blood that streamed down Jesus body as he hung on the cross was a divine remedy to death’s sting. It was a remedy, that when applied, has the power to take away the pain, swelling and numbness of the sting of sin, and that remedy is forgiveness, unconditional forgiveness. So powerful is that cross squeezed forgiveness that no trace of the sting remains, and death has lost its power. Lost its power to ruin trust and relationships. Lost its power to destroy violence and hate. Lost its power to silence any other god who might seek to kidnap your life.

When applied, the balm of divine forgiveness restores life. Life in one’s heart. Life in families. Life in communities. Life even across the world. As much as I have seen death’s sting of sin do its work of misery, I have seen the power of God’s balm of cross-born forgiveness bringing life.

So, when sin has stung you and you feel the pain, swelling and numbness that it brings, take a moment and apply God’s forgiveness to that sting and feel the healing at work.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

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