The Bungee Cord   2-18-19

Hello,

     “Slow down, you move too fast.  You’ve got to make the morning last.   Just kickin’ down the cobblestones.  Lookin’ for fun, and feeling groovy.”  So sang Simon and Garfunkel.

     I used to often listen to Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel when I was a kid.  We had a pool table in our basement, and as I shot pool I would stack six records on the turntable stand of my technologically snappy stereo that would drop a record onto the turntable, move the stylus over to play the first song, and then when it had played the album through, the stylus would move out of the way for the next record to be dropped and repeat the process.  (Ah….the good old days!)  Almost always, Simon and Garfunkel was included in that stack.

     Looking back on things from where we are now, it seems odd that Simon and Garfunkel thought that the world, and we who were on it, was moving too fast.  “Slow down, you move too fast.”  That, of course, was before cell phones that picked up the pace of communication, before T.V. remotes and hundreds of stations sped up our attention spans, and before the internet set us racing around the world without even getting out of our chairs.  If it seemed like the world was spinning rapidly in the 60’s, today’s world spins at a rate that makes the 60’s seem like a snail’s pace.

     I wonder.  Is it possible to slow down?

     If you slow down, will you get run over?  If you slow down, will you fall so far behind that you are all alone?  If you slow down, will people yell and scream at you to get out of the way?  If you slow down, will you be constantly late for everything or miss everything?

     As I think about it, it is hard to slow down, and it may even be dangerous.  But when the sidewalks and streets are icy, it is far more dangerous if you don’t slow down.  For those of us who live in the northern tier of states, I would bet that every one of us has felt the fear that comes when you’ve hit the ice and you’re going too fast.

     So, when the sidewalks and streets of your life are icy…when you are tired and worn out from the pace of life that you are running….when you are feeling like you are on an ever accelerating hamster wheel…..when you afraid of being rear ended by everyone who is honking behind you, Jesus has a word for you, “I am with you always.” (Matthew 28:20)  

     You see, in this fast paced world where you have to get somewhere to get something, there is one thing that you don’t have to move an inch for to get, and that is Jesus, because Jesus comes to us….no matter where we are….always.  So, get out of the way of the world’s traffic, go ahead and pull off the side of the road at a rest stop….(that is what Sunday morning worship is meant to be)…and rest in the grace of God.  Grace that brings peace that the world cannot give.  Grace that wraps you in hope that the chill of the world cannot break through. Joy that fills your life that the fast-food joy of the world cannot provide.  And grace that fuels you with love to sustain you as you get back on the road of life.

     I suspect that Jesus, who loves you more than you can imagine and who is with you always, is singing along with Simon and Garfunkel, “Slow down, you move too fast.”

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

     

The Bungee Cord    2-12-19

Hello,

EVER CHANGED BY CHRIST’S CLAIMING CALL, TODAY I JOIN GOD IN THE DIVINE ADVENTURE OF MAKING ALL THINGS NEW.

     Some years ago, I felt like I needed some focus in my life, so I decided to write my personal mission statement.  I figured that if churches, businesses and governments can benefit from intentionally discerning who they are and where they hope to be going, it sure wouldn’t hurt me.  So, what I wrote above is what I came up with to anchor my feet and keep me from getting blown too far off course by the gusts of the world around me.

     My mission statement isn’t a mission statement for me as a pastor, but rather it is a statement for me as a person.  Through this mission statement, I hope to remember that God’s grace is at work in my life, every day, working in my life because God has chosen to do so without considering my worthiness.  And not only does God choose to do his potter’s work in my life, God has empowered me to be a force of grace and mercy in this world, and God leads the charge to bring life into death, and hope into despair.

     Of course, there are plenty of voices trying to tell me that my mission in life is elsewise.  Some, even fellow Christians, are often apt to tell me that my life’s mission is to conform to certain rules and standards…..rules and standards that are certainly worthy of my conforming…but that brings a daily burden of failure and frustration Some, even fellow Christians, are often apt to tell me that my life’s mission is to continually sharpen my gifts and talents, and in so doing become successful and powerful…but that makes every day a wrestling match with others….and that is very tiring.  Some, even fellow Christians, are often apt to tell me that my life’s mission is happiness and that God will lead me there if I carefully follow his directions…but such a goal turns out to be hollow and flimsy and easily topples when life’s storms pass through.

     Honestly, for some of my life I have listened to and followed these mission statements that have been spoken in my ears, but over the course of my life a clarifying voice has also made its way into my hearing…a voice that has spoken through hymns, sermons, and scripture as I have gathered weekly with the people of God in worship…a voice that has spoken through the touch of water and bread and wine….a voice that has etched its way into my soul when more than 7 times 70 I have heard the decree of God, “You are forgiven.”  It is this other voice that has formulated my mission statement, and with this voice resounding in my ears I find myself propelled by hope and joyful anticipation on the adventure of each day.

     I don’t know if my mission statement rings true to you and your life, but I share it with you today with the invitation of joining hands with me in the divine adventure ahead!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  2-6-19

Hello,

     In my younger years I was involved in lots of sports: baseball, football, basketball.  We lived kitty corner from an open park in my home town where in our elementary school years we would play touch football and argue about getting touched or not.  We would play a variety of baseball games, Piggy Move Up, for one.  We would gather at the basketball hoop and pretend that we were stars.  It was a time when kids could just play pick-up games, and sports camps were unknown.

     As I got older the pick-up games were replaced by organized athletics.  Practices came into play, “non-mandatory” open gyms were “encouraged”, as was spending a week at a summer basketball camp.  There was a sense of satisfaction in becoming better at sports, and as the level of competition rose, there was a thrilling rush of excitement when things got close and victory happened.

     But with the rise of competition and organization, so rose the pressure.  Not necessarily a bad thing, as learning how to deal with pressure is a very important learning in life.  But with relentless application of that pressure, that which was meant to also be a game, easily expanded into what seemed as matters of life and death.  It almost seemed that the future of the world, or at least my world, was dependent upon completing a pass, sinking a free throw, or striking someone out.  One’s teammates were counting on you.  Your school was counting on you.  Your town…your state…your nation….even the world (I know….I am wandering into a bit of exaggeration….but sometimes it would seem all too real)….was counting on you!

     There was a name for the one who blew it, and that name was “goat”.  The goat. That was the name that was given to the person who was the cause of defeat.  I don’t know why a goat was chosen to embody all the shame of losing, but I do know this, no one wanted to be the goat.

     But things have changed in the world of sports since my days of playing.  Now, everyone wants to be the goat….G.O.A.T., that is.  It’s an acronym, and the letters stand for this acclaim…The Greatest Of All Time.  Maybe you heard of this acronym a long time ago, but for me it is new.  I began hearing it this summer in reference to baseball players who seem to be head and shoulders better than their peers, but most recently, I have heard it in reference to Tom Brady, Super Bowl champion and quarterback.  The G.O.A.T. Announcers, fellow players, and analysts have all, over the last week, bestowed upon Tom Brady, the title of the G.O.A.T.

     Personally, I find a bit of arrogance in the bestowal of this title, the arrogance in assigning greatness to a specific day that rates above the greatest of other days.  Great as he may be, it seems a bit hyperbolic to say that Tom Brady is the greatest football player…or quarterback of all time.  Nevertheless, it seems that the world we live in is always looking for greatness, working for greatness, and even expecting greatness, and you and I can get caught up in the tantalizing pursuit of working hard enough, sacrificing enough time and money, and focusing our efforts singularly enough that we might at least be in the running for the G.O.A.T.

     But what if I were to tell you that getting caught up in the pursuit of being the G.O.A.T. is a waste of your time….not a waste because striving for excellence is a waste of time….but it is a waste of time because you already are the G.O.A.T., at least to God.  “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called CHILDREN OF GOD, and that is what we are.”  (1 John 3:1). What in all of creation could be greater than to be acclaimed a child of God Almighty?  What greater accolade in all of time could there be than God’s crowning deed for you, that he gave his Son to die for you?  What greater honor could there be than to be given a seat at the divine banquet table and a place prepared for you in God’s eternal home. To me, it makes the title of G.O.A.T. for a football player seem like a Little League trophy compared to the title of G.O.A.T. that is bestowed upon the children of God.

     And what is even greater is to know that this title is not given to anyone by virtue of their greatness, rather it is placed upon people because of God’s greatness….greatness of the exploding love from the heart of God. Jesus died and rose for you…for the world, so in God’s sight you are a G.O.A.T. who is part of uncountable flock of G.O.A.T.’s., and that, unlike the debate if Tom Brady really is the G.O.A.T., is undebatable.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace. (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Hello,

     If you missed the Bungee Cord last week, it was because I was on vacation on an island off of Puerto Rico, Vieques.  Seven days of torture!  80 degrees, sunny, beautiful beaches, snorkeling in a coral reef.  Life was rough.  Peaceful. Serene.  Quiet.

     Except for two occasions.  The first was a dinner meal at an Italian restaurant.  We went there on the advice that the food was good, and it was, but the noise level was ear drum breaking.  The place was packed.  The walls were plaster.  The floor was ceramic tile.  The ceiling was low, and at the bar was a congregation of very loud and piercing voiced people.  As a matter of fact, it seemed like everyone in that restaurant was a loud and piercing voiced person.

     Granted, my hearing, and the hearing of the other three who I was dining with (my wife being one, and the friends who invited us to come to the island with them were the other two) is not what it used to be, but even though we were sitting at a small table we could not hear each other.  “What?”, was the most spoken word by each of us as we tried to carry on a conversation.  Truth is, the noise was so loud that we couldn’t hear a thing.  

    

     The other break in our quiet, serene, and peaceful week came on Sunday when we went to worship in an Episcopal Church…Iglesia Episcopal Todos Los Santos- All Saint Episcopal Church Vieques, P.R…

which advertised bi-lingual services for us English speakers (the common language of the Island is Spanish).  The church even posted a picture of us on the facebook page, the above address.   We arrived a little early, and we were warmly greeted by a woman who helped us find a seat and tried to explain the oscillating order of worship between English and Spanish. The format of the service followed the Book of Common Prayer.  The red book, English.  The light blue book, Spanish.  The hymns were in a three ring binder.

     Now, I have been to some Episcopal worship services, and even though the worship followed the same order as I was accustomed, the worship was quite different.  It was loud! Not ear drum breaking, but given the small size of the congregation, there was plenty of volume when songs were being sung.   The small church was packed.   A couple of the older ladies in the congregation had tamberines.  The lead musician played an amped guitar, the choir of nine were all mic-ed, and the congregation belted out the songs with gusto!  Not being a Spanish speaker, I wasn’t able to sing along as the songs were not bi-lingual, but I certainly was caught up in the music.  An interesting part of the service was when we came to the Lord’s prayer. Everyone, including us, joined hands. And before we prayed, a song to the tune of Simon and Garfunkel’s “Sounds of Silence” was sung, then we prayed, first in Spanish, and then in English.  Once finished with the prayer, the “Sounds of Silence” song was sung again, and when it concluded everyone raised their joined hands above their heads.

     Unlike our noisy experience in the restaurant where were couldn’t hear a thing, in that noisy little church we could hear only one thing, the grace of God.  The grace of God that exploded from the lungs of the singers.  The grace of God that was amplified in the hugs that we received during the passing of the peace.  The grace of God that rocked our hearts as we received Holy Communion.  It was loud!  It drowned out everything.  As a matter of fact, I can still hear it ringing in my ears.

     The world, like that Italian restaurant, can be a very noisy place.  So noisy that you can’t hear a thing.  Let me invite you to a place that is equally loud….in a wonderful way….a church…a place where you will hear only one thing….the grace of God.  And that is a noise that you’ll be glad, amidst the noise of the world, to hear ringing in your ears.

     Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace. (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

     

The Bungee Cord  1-8-19

Hello,

“Ladies and watermelon, we are watermelon watermelon watermelon watermelon, please watermelon watermelon watermelon watermelon.  If there is watermelon watermelon watermelon watermelon a representative will watermelon watermelon watermelon.  As we watermelon watermelon watermelon, please make sure that watermelon watermelon watermelon watermelon.  We will be landing shortly, watermelon watermelon watermelon.  Thank you.”

Amid the stirring of the engine outside my window, the purr of the fan circulating air inside the cabin, and the stirring of the people around me, a flight attendant began to speak over the p.a. system on my flight back from visiting my folks, and the quote that I began with is what I heard.  It isn’t the first time that this sort of thing has happened, as a matter of fact, it seems that the p.a. system on nearly every plane that I have been on has been less than clear.

I hope that what I was being told was not too terribly important because I have no idea what the content was. No one subsequently yelled at me for not doing something, and fortunately, we landed safely and I got off the plane without any difficulties.  So, I guess that the muffled message caused no harm.  But what if the message had been something to do with preparing for a hard landing…..or telling me to be patient in getting off the plane as someone was ill and needed to be cared for….or if the toilet was overflowing and we shouldn’t use it.  I am quite certain that airlines must be aware of their unintelligible  p.a. systems, but for some reason they haven’t deemed it important enough to rectify.

I am pretty sure that, for many, reading the Bible is akin to my airplane experience.  Amid all the hum of unknown historical circumstances, amid the rumbling of words and phrases that use vocabulary and concepts that are foreign to the reader, amid the stirring of different interpretations tossing about in one’s hear to what is being read…..watermelon, watermelon, watermelon is about all that is heard.

Likewise, I am quite certain, that like airline companies, the Christian church is well aware of the unintelligibility of what is heard coming off the pages of the Bible, and it hasn’t done a very good job of rectifying the problem.  Not that the Christian church hasn’t tried….different versions of the Bible, using different vocabulary, speaking in ways to reach a particular audience.  But it isn’t easily done, and for many people the Bible is a muffled mush of watermelon.

So, today, I am going to try and do something about that.  Today, I want to pen to you a passage of Scripture that I find to speak the witness of the Bible with absolute clarity and articulation.  Although there are thousands of pages and thousands of words that are worth reading in the Bible, I believe that the words that I am about to transcribe encapsulate all those words with an amplification that can be heard loud and clear.  Listen to this, 

“Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? …
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”  (Romans 8:35ff)

Can it be any clearer?  “nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Hope you heard that.

Have a great week,
God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

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