Bungee Cord  11-12-12

Hello,

     I was watching some football on TV on Saturday when in the periphery of my vision I saw something move outside the patio doors.  A quick glance away from my game, and I spied a deer calmly strolling across the yard, about 15 feet from the house.  It stopped to smell the vegetable garden that had long ago gave up its last harvest (maybe it was one of those pesky deer that was always trying to sample our produce) and then it slowly made its way to the tree line, taking in all the scenery as if it was a first time New York tourist.

     Not five minutes later, my football game was again interrupted by movement in my peripheral vision.  This time as I glanced out the glass doors I saw two Labrador retrievers striding along the same pathway as the deer, but their gate was no gawking tourist pace, theirs was the determined stride of two high school boys out looking for a fight.  One was stocky and black, the other was chocolate and sleeker.  I don’t know where they came from; some low security free ranging neighborhood yard, I suspect.  Where ever they came from one thing was certain.  They were on a mission.  Their strides were in lock step, and their eyes were being led by their noses.  With their tongues hanging out, it looked like they had sinister grins on their faces.

     I would venture to guess that if that deer that had stolled by my house had been aware of these two canine cruise missiles that were closing in on their target, the deer would not have been so slow along its way.  I didn’t hear any hooting and howling of the dogs in the woods, and I didn’t see them retrace their tracks in reverse past my house.  So, I don’t know what became of them and the deer, but my hopes for the deer’s preservation were not high.

     It would be nice, wouldn’t it, if we could stroll through life like that deer, relaxed, pausing to take in all that is around us.  The problem is, that unlike that deer, we are aware of Labradors and bloodhounds in determined pursuit behind us:  stocky health concerns, sleeker and speedier bills to be paid, persistent parental fears, stalking job pressures…and those are just the ones that we know of.  It is easy to find ourselves nervously hurried in our steps, our eyes darting all around, not to take in the beauty and wonder all along the path, but to try and spot the hunters before they spot us.

     But once a week out of the shadows of the woods there comes a somewhat soul startling, “Psst.”  Its surprise is enough to set all of our senses on high alert, and cause our hearts to race.  And then, there it is again, “Psst.  Over here.  Come over here.  It’s safe.”  Is it a trap?  Who is it who sees us and beckons us over?  And then it calls again, “Psst.  Over here.  There’s nothing to fear,” and the inviter ends the invite by calling our name.  “You can rest your weary bones here.  You can nourish your weakened muscles here.   You can calm your frantic heart here.  You can even pause and take a look at the beauty and the wonder of the world here.  Here the hounds will lose your trail.   Of course, you can’t stay here forever, but the time that you spend here will give you the strength and courage to make it through the next week, when I’ll call out to you again.”

     You hear the panting of the hounds behind you, you muscles ache and your lungs beg for air.  So, you do it….you step into the dark, following the calling voice, and you discover, that everything that the beckoner promised……..was true.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord   11-4-12

Hello,

     I found myself shaking my head in disbelieving shock in the wake of the hurricane dubbed Sandy that bullied the Northeast.  My oscillating head was not set in motion by the images of the destruction that the wind and waves dealt upon products of human hands.  Although I was deeply saddened by the plight of those who found themselves in fury’s way, I wasn’t shocked for I know that when humans line up against the forces of nature, we are like a 5^th grade football team taking our stand against the NFL.  We are so bound to get crushed that to say we are underdogs is an egotistic exaggeration.

     What set my head a wagging was something that I heard as I travelled to work a couple of days after the hurricane hit: neighborhood stores were being looted.  As the water swept into the buildings flooding the floors, people waded into that water and swept the shelves clear of the merchandise that the store owners had placed there to serve the community and by which to make a living.  It was shocking to me that people, looters, would take advantage of those whose lives had just crumbled in front of them by the destruction of the storm on their livelihood, and then kick them in the teeth by stealing away any shred of hope that remained.  It is headshakingly shocking to me.

     But now some days later having had time bring a halt to my shock-born head shaking, allowing my eyes to see things more clearly…I find myself seeing such looting going on around me all the time.  I’ve seen people’s lives looted when a hurricane named Divorce has blown into their lives and their sense of worth is plundered by the gossip that follows.  I’ve seen school children of all ages, pre-school to college, have their lives looted when tests are handed back and the audible and inaudible snickers loot any crumb of value that the hurricane named Failure hasn’t already swept away.  I’ve seen adults have their lives looted when the hurricane named Unthinkable Sin has raged through their lives, and then any shred of hope is grabbed from them by the sticky fingers of judgment and shame.  The truth is that there is something all too common for people who have just been crushed by a hurricane, that they find themselves kicked in the teeth by looters who prey on them.

     I don’t know when it was so dubbed, but the space in which we gather as the people of God every Sunday morning is called The Sanctuary.  It is so named because it is the place where Jesus, the one who stood up to the storm of storms, a storm named Sin and Death, and crushed it on Easter Sunday morning when he rose from the tomb, gathers us under his protection like a mother hen sheltering her chicks with her wings.  The place where we gather every Sunday morning, the Sanctuary, is a place of safety from the looters of the world.  Although the looters of the world may take advantage of you and kick you in the teeth when storms have shattered your life, the Lord of the Sanctuary will not.  When you enter his Sanctuary he will begin to repair your life with his words of forgiveness.  When you come to his table he will heal your wounds with the wounds he suffered, his body and blood.  And when your knees crumple, he will take hold of you and set you back on your feet after your conversation with him called prayer.

     So, in this world of life crushing storms, let me extend to you Jesus’ invitation, “Come unto me all you that are weary and heaven laden and I will give you rest.”  And don’t be surprised that when it comes time to leave the Sanctuary and face the stormy world that you find your head shaking in disbelieving shock, shock that the one who spans the reaches of the universe has just wrapped his arms around you and filled you with something no one or nothing can loot from you: God’s love for you.

     Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord 10-29-12

Hello,

     Today I did a funeral for a young man, only 31 years old.  I did not know him.  I had never met him.  One of the members of my church is a funeral director, and as I rode with him to the cemetery for a funeral that I did with him this weekend, he asked me if I could do a funeral on Tuesday for this young man who had no pastor.

     “Sure,” I said, “I’d be glad to do it.”

     And I was glad to do it, but I was also a bit afraid to do it.  It is a frightening enough trek to walk with people that I know through the valley of the shadow of death, let along take that journey with people whom I have never met.  And to make it even more frightening would be to take that walk into the dark valley of the death of one so young.

     I called the family and arranged to meet with them on the day of the funeral, today, before the visitation at the funeral home.  What does a person say to those whose grief and pain is as thick and deep as an Amazon rain forest?

      When I arrived, the funeral director introduced me to the family, who when I shook their trembling hands broke into tears.  I tried to express my sympathies as best I could, and I invited them to have a seat so we could talk. 

     “How are you doing?” I asked.  No sooner did the words slip from my mouth that I thought to myself, “What a obvious question….of course they were doing terribly….their son and brother had just died.”  But what question  could one ask that wouldn’t seem a bit empty.  “Not well, I am sure,” I answered my own question.

    “Not well,” they responded, and I listened as they spoke of the hurricane of suffering that had hit them.  They spoke of their love for their son who had struggled trying to settle his feet amidst the waves of storms that had hit his life; some storms he had walked into against the words of others, and some storms that hit him out of nowhere as he was getting close to planting his feet.  I listened for fifteen pain-full minutes, had a prayer with them, and said that I would be back in about an hour to conduct the service.

     So, what did I say when I came back for the service?   I read Romans 8:31-39, and  I said what I say at every funeral, honing in on this family’s unique grief.  “I didn’t know him,” I started, speaking of the young man, “as you have known him.  But I am here because I do know someone who also died in his early thirties, someone who got blown around by the bullying storms of the world.  Someone who also walked into storms against the words of others, and someone who found himself in many a swirl not of his inviting.  But also someone for whom his Father’s love for him, his heavenly Father, was so great that that love demolished the black hole of death in an explosion of life, everlasting life.  God sent his Son, Jesus into this world, because he holds in his heart the same love for this son (this young man) as he does for his Son.  God has known the grief that you feel, and just as he did for his Son, he will not let death have the final word for this son….or for you.”

     I know some of you who read the Bungee Cord very well, others I know as well as the young man that I buried today.  Yet, whether we know each other well or not, this I do know: the valley of the shadow of death (the smaller death we encounter every day, and the final death we well enter on our last day) is on our maps, and I know the one who takes hold of our hands as we walk into that valley, having himself walked through it before, and says, “I’ve got ahold of you.  I won’t let go.”

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 10-23-12

Hello,

     It was 80 degrees here today, so when I got home I decided that both Duncan (my dog) and I needed a good autumn stroll.  So, I grabbed his leash and said, “Duncan, do you want to go for a walk?”  Wondering if he heard what he thought he heard, he tilted his head askew, and I asked again.  Certain that he heard what he hoped he heard, his tail started wagging like a plane’s propeller, and he darted to the back corner of our property where our walks always begin.

     However, rather than going northwest to the butterfly hill, Duncan decided to go down the edge of our property to the west taking us to the woods where we had not gone before.  The woods are a 400 acre plot of land that has trails running through it like blood vessels.  We began our trek around three in the afternoon, and I figured if we stayed on a trail we could take a short hike and see some new sights and be home before supper.  Unfortunately, the trail took us deep into the tall trees, and soon I had no idea where I was.

I knew that there was a main trail to the north, and thanks to the bright sun that was in the southern sky, I tried to keep the sun on my back.  An hour later, the sun guided me to the trail that I was familiar with.  Tired and worn we climbed up the hill from which we began, and when we walked in the door of our house Duncan plopped down the floor and I on the couch.  Neither of us had expected the work out that we got, and both of us were glad that light of the sun had led us home.

I don’t know about you,  but my life is a lot like my afternoon walk…..along a path that I know not where it is taking me, up and down exhausting hills, and guided by the Son.

“O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown.  Give us faith to go out with good courage, no knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen” (Evangelical Lutheran Worship p. 304)

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee 10-18-12

Hello,

     I don’t know if I’ll be saying this in December, but right now I really like my drive to  and from work.  It is about a 23 mile ride, and it begins with a winding incline to the top of the ridge on a two lane road that cuts through the woods.  This past week has been the peak of the fall colors, and on my ride over the ridge I am surrounded by orange, red, yellow, green and burgundy to my right and my left and above.  Ribbons of sunlight slice through the foliage.  An occasional deer or raccoons stands on the side of the road and follows me with their glace, turning their heads as I pass by.  Birds swoop from one tree to another.  Once over the ridge the road takes me to a panoramic vista that spans for miles and gathers in the hillside farms, the small towns, and multicolored tree lines.  Further along my ride, I pass through the towns where the children await their bus, and sometimes there’s some brave souls out for their daily jog.  I often share the road with only a few cars, and sometimes with no cars at all.  It is peaceful.  It is a blessing.   It is beautiful.  Describing it falls far short of seeing it.  I wish that you could ride along with me and see the beauty that I see.

     To me, this is also what the heart of telling others about Jesus is all about.  It is an invitation to ride along life’s path and take in the beauty that I have been graced to see.  As I wind my way from life’s valley to ridge,  the warmth of Jesus compassion envelops me like an autumnal forest, to my right and left and above me.  As I exit the woods Jesus takes me to a hilltop crest see a vista of hope that is more than my eyes can take in, a crest  that holds a cross stained with Jesus’ sin gathered blood…..taking my sins away….taking my breath away.  It is peaceful.  It is a blessing.  It is beautiful.  Describing it falls far short of seeing.  I wish that you could ride along with me and see the beauty that I see.  That is why I tell you and others about Jesus.

     I don’t find myself to be one who tells others about Jesus in order to save them from the fury of hell, because I know that life is hellish enough, with cesspools all over the place.  I don’t think I have to turn people’s eyes to the painful realities of this world.  It is easy to have our eyes caught upon the cesspools of life and turn to despair and hopelessness.  And I don’t think that I am being simple and naïve to think that one can keep from seeing the pain all around us by just looking elsewhere.  No, when I turn people’s eyes to Jesus and the beauty that is there to behold in him, I am hoping that they see something that I have been given to see… amazing grace, Jesus loves me, for unto us a child is born, a beautiful savior….

I hope you will be part of the ride this Sunday in church…and see what I have be graced to see….something that will leave an impression on you….an impression of hope, an impression of peace, and an impression of delight.  There is a beauty to Jesus that is greater than the Pennsylvania hills in the autumn.  Let me invite you to catch a glimpse of it!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 10-8-12

Hello,

     Today is a visual Bungee Cord….hope this works!....and hope you can see it!

      Here’s a sunset that we saw off of our back deck last week, looking out over the hills….

ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL!

Here’s a sunset that might have been seen off of some Jerusalem rooftop some years ago looking out over a hill…..

BEAUTIFULLY ABSOLUTE!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord  10-1-12

Hello,

     There’s a theory that says every human being is connected to every other human being by no more than six degrees of separation.  If that is true, that means that I know some one, who knows someone, who knows someone, who knows someone, who knows someone, who knows some person in some remote corner of the world.  It does make the world seem pretty small!

     The other day I was thinking about this theory and it occurred to me that I stand only a few degrees of separation from a couple of pretty famous people of our day: President Obama and Ben Rothlisberger.  Let me tell you how I am connected to them.

     I grew up across the street from the current governor of Illinois, Pat Quinn.  He was a handful of years older than me, but his youngest brother was one of my regular playmates.  His brother and I would play endless games of home run derby in his back yard using a wiffle ball bat and a plastic golf ball.  He was the White Sox.  I was the Cubs.  Every once in a while, Pat would be part of a neighborhood touch football game.  So, since I “know” Pat Quinn, and as Governor of Illinois, President Obama’s home state, Pat knows President Obama….I am only a small degree of separation from the President of the United States.

     For nearly eight years, I lived in Arlington, Ohio, a small town a mere seven uninterrupted miles from Findlay, Ohio.  During those years, Ben Rothlisberger lived in Findlay and attended Findlay High School where he played basketball and football.  Having known the Arlington basketball and football players pretty well, I am sure that at least one of them spent some time playing sports with Ben Rothlisberger.  Thus my two degree of separation connection to Ben Rothlisberger.

     Truth to be told, I don’t know how much good my connection to Ben Rothlisberger and President Obama will do me.  I am not sure that a call to either of them telling them that I grew up across the street from Pat Quinn or that I lived in Arlington for seven years would get either of them to open their doors if I knocked on them.

     Herein lies the wonder of Jesus.  When you and I knock on the doors of heaven in prayer, we do not place our hopes of catching his ear by saying that we grew up across the street from someone he knows, or that we lived in a town with someone who he knows.  No, when we knock on the doors of heaven in prayer, there is no degree of separation, for Jesus takes one look at you and I who knock and he says, “Oh, I know you….I died for you.”

     It might be a fun thing to compare at a party our list of people to whom we are connected with the lists that our friends have, and at best those lists might open a few doors for us.  But to hear that we are on Jesus’ list of those to whom he is connected, directly connected by his death – now, that is far more than fun.  That is a cause for hope when everything seems hopeless.  That is a cause for peace when everything seems to be falling apart.  That is a cause for joy when dark clouds lumber upon us.  That is a cause for celebration when death cries “victory”.

     It may be true that each of us is connected to every one on the earth by a separation of six people or less.  But a more valuable and wonderful truth is this: each of us is directly connected to Jesus…..a connection that opens the doors that really matter.

Have a great week…..I’ll say hi, for you,  to Ben or Barack if I see them.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger