Bungee Cord  3-25-13

Hello,

     If you haven’t been to church for a while, I would like to offer you an apology. 

     The apology that needs to be given to you is this; we have been wrong to speak of you as “C and E” Christians, that is Christmas and Easter Christians.  We have been wrong to diminish the honesty of the intellectual struggle that you might have in aligning the Christian message with realities of life that you see.  We have been wrong to make small the challenges of your world that sets you on a treadmill that just keeps going faster and faster.  We have been wrong not to take blame for making secondary things seem to be the primary thing that we stand for.  We have been wrong for not coming clean on the hurtful things that we have said and did that may have turned you away.  But most of all, we have been wrong to be cynical about your presence among us on Christmas or Easter, rather than to be thankful for it.

     It is important for you to know that not every person who regularly attends worship thinks of you as a “C and E” Christian.  I know that I do not.  When you make the effort to worship among us, that is our chance to impact your life with God’s love that has opened up our lives.  It is our chance to be Christ to you; loving you no matter what others think of you, forgiving you no matter what you have done, and walking with you no matter what life might bring.  Of course we don’t do that perfectly, but when you come and worship with us, I trust that the Holy Spirit’s presence will overcome our faults and shortcomings.

     So, with apology behind, let me say to you as boldly as I can, please accept my invitation to come to worship this Sunday, Easter…..actually, it is not my invitation, it is Jesus’ invitation.  Nothing would delight Jesus any more than for him to see you at his table and to commune with you.  Nothing would delight Jesus any more than to have you spend an hour warming up around the fire of his love as you live in this rather cold and harsh world.  Nothing would delight Jesus any more than to fill your ears with the truth, that you are of such value and worth that he would die for you, in a world that is constantly bombarding you with the lie that places your value on the things you do.  Nothing would delight Jesus any more than for you to bring whatever struggles you face in life, and for him to lead the charge back out into the world like a NFL lineman, blasting a hole of hope through which you can pass.

     No matter how long it has been since you have been in worship, I hope that you will come to church this Sunday, Easter.  Of course, I hope that you will often come back, and I ask you to take my word when I say that my hopes have nothing to do with filling empty pews, reaching a church budget, or personal pride.  I hope that you will worship regularly because there is nothing more that would delight Jesus than to have you in church regularly….to hope you, to peace you, to joy you…..to love you.

     See you Sunday!

Have a great week,

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord 3-17-13

Hello,

     This Sunday will be Palm Sunday, and as the story of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem is told, let me call your attention to who I would nominate as Best Supporting Actor: the donkey.

     Palm Sunday marks the beginning of the high point in the year of the Christian faith, Holy Week.  Holy Week begins this Sunday as Jesus rides into Jerusalem well aware of what awaits him, dines with his disciples on Thursday well aware that one will betray him and goes to pray in the garden well aware of the soldiers who will arrest him there, stands in front of Pilate on Friday well aware of the cross that awaits him, and on Sunday strides out of death’s tomb well aware of the change that he has brought to all of creation.  That is Holy Week, and it will begin this Sunday, Palm Sunday.

     Holy Week  begins with Jesus victoriously riding into Jerusalem, not on the mighty steed of a ruthless general, but humbly on the back of a meager donkey: a pack animal, not a war animal; a beast of burden, not a beast; the transporter of the meek, not the proud. He bounced into town on the back of a donkey, instead of charging in on a nostril-flaring stallion.  To proclaim his capture of the hearts of all people, Jesus showed his heart.  He didn’t ride into Jerusalem backed by an intimidating army, he rode into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey: a shabby, stubborn, slothful donkey.

     In a world where strength and style stride into our lives on muscled steeds with flowing manes bringing us to our knees, remember that Jesus rides into your life on a weak-kneed, scraggly maned donkey.  In a world where those in the saddle leave behind the weak and broken as they strut upon their steeds of success, remember that Jesus rides into your life on a stubborn donkey that doesn’t give up on where it wants to go, among its herd of weak and broken donkeys.  In a world that gallops along at a pace that ultimately leaves everyone behind,  remember that Jesus rides into your life on a donkey that plods at a pace that leaves no one behind, including you.

     It may have been that you have experienced a Christianity that is more akin to a conquering war-horse thundering into your life…beating you down, terrorizing you with fear, demanding that you keep up with it.  Be that the case or not, let me invite you to worship this Sunday, Palm Sunday, and experience something far different.  Come and see that the one named Jesus Christ who rides into your life does it out of stubborn love for you, does it out of uncompromised care for you, does it out of the sharing the weakness of human life.  He does it riding on a donkey: The Best Supporting Actor.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernbegers

The Bungee Cord  3-10-13

Hello,

     We had a visitor in church today.  Actually, we regularly, and thankfully, have visitors in our worship services.  Today’s visitor was far more memorable than the usual.

     I was saying “hi” to people and shaking their hands as they sat sparsely in the pews before our 8:15 service when I noticed a man sitting on the far aisle who I didn’t recognize.  The closer I got to him, the more unfamiliar he looked.  He was wearing a worn and dirtied Pittsburgh Steelers jacket, his hair was unkempt, his beard was several days unshaven.  He regularly adjusted his thick black rimmed glasses, and with each adjustment of his glasses he wiped his nose with the back of his hand.  His clothes were worn and they appeared in need of a good wash.  He was a tall man, and he had a sort of confused look in his eyes.

     “Good morning,” I said to him and extended my hand to him in welcome, noticing a small, worn out boom-box placed next to him.   “I don’t think that I recognize you,” I then said, my standard follow up to those whose faces I cannot place.

     He told me his name, and said that he was “new to here”.  “Well,” I said, “I am glad that you came this morning.  Welcome.”

     That was about the extent of my pre-service conversation with him, and as the service progressed, I could see that he was a bit lost in the sometimes confusing order of worship (liturgy) that we Lutherans engage in.  I noticed that he fumbled between the hymnal and the bulletin, looking around every once in a while to see what others were using.  Sometimes he would be sitting when everyone else was standing, but I noticed his mouth moving every once in a while when we were singing a hymn.

     He was sitting toward the rear of the church.  As communion approached, I wondered if he would come forward.  To my dismay, as the ushers made their way to his pew, he did not come to the altar.  Instead, he picked up his things and exited out the rear church doors.  I was disappointed.  Disappointed because I know that Jesus included this visitor in his invitation to his table, and I wondered if I had done something in my pre-service encounter with him to send a contrary message.  Or, did he feel that the invitation to the altar to receive the sacrament did not fall upon him because, in truth, he didn’t really look like the rest of the carefully dressed and clean clothed people…..maybe I should have tried to be clearer in extending the invitation to everyone?  Here, was a person in our midst, who appeared to be one who struggled with life….(don’t we all?)…and instead of coming to receive the very gift of the Lord, himself, our guest…..no, the Lord’s guest exited out the back. I had the distinct feeling of failure….I had failed him….I had failed the Lord.

     Interestingly enough, as the service concluded and I stood at the rear of the church and wished all who passed through my door “a great day”, our visitor walked back into church through the door that he had exited (the door where I was standing).  Caught off guard, I shook his hand coming in, and saying his name, I said, “I thought you had left.”

     “No,” he said, “he just needed a cup of coffee,” which we were serving in our basement. 

     “Oh,” I replied, and as no one else was exiting out my door, I tried to strike up a conversation with him.  “Are you from Greensburg?”

     “No,” he said, and told me a town that I had not heard of before.

     “Don’t know where that’s at,” I said, and then he rattled off a couple of other towns that were close to it, towns I didn’t know of either.

     “Well, I don’t know those towns, but I am glad that you came to worship with us today,”   With a little more small talk, I finished by saying, “Hope you’ll come again.”  And off I went to get together with some of our high school kids between our services.

     I had forgotten about him as we began the second service and made our way through the sermon and the congregational prayers, but as we began to collect the offering, the front door of the church by the choir loft opened, and in walked our visitor, again.  Apparently he had hung up his coat, because this time he was wearing a thin threaded shirt with a sports team’s tee shirt visible underneath.  He walked back to the pew that he had sat in during the first service, and I wondered again, as communion began…..”would he come and receive the sacrament?”

     I said the same preparatory things that I had said the first service, yet this time when the ushers motioned to him to invite him to the table, he got up…..and came!  He knelt beside the others, and as I came up to him, he extended his hands and I said to him as I placed the piece of bread in his hands, “This is the body of Christ, given for you.”  He took it, and he ate it.  When the wine made its way to him, the person giving it said, “This is the blood of Christ, shed for you.”, and pouring it into the small cup that he picked up on the way to the altar, he drank it.

     With communion over, I raised my hands in blessing and said to the congregation, “The body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ strengthen you and keep you in his grace.”  I hope heard me.

     The service ended, and this time he didn’t go out my door, so I assumed that he had returned to the life that had brought him to church, and as I left, I discovered what that life was.  Sitting on the bench, outside our church, there he was….in his Steelers jacket, listening his quite audilbe boom box, enjoying the warmth of the day, with a large, black, plastic garbage bag that appeared to be carrying his earthly belongings stuffed under the bench.

     “Have a great day,” I said to him, “Hope to see you next week.”  I don’t know where his life will take him this week.  I hope he stays safe and receives the care that he needs…..but more than that….I really do hope to see him next week….and everyone else who struggles with life (and who doesn’t?).

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

(sorry for being a bit long winded today!)

Bungee Cord 3-3-13

Hello,

     This morning on the way to church I played Red Rover with a line of crows, and I won!

     I leave my house around 7:00 a.m. to get to church on Sunday mornings. Usually, I travel over the ridge, and since traffic is pretty sparse at that time of day on Sunday, it takes me about 35 minutes to traverse the winding road up and over the mountain.  Today, however, we had about 6 inches of snow on the ridge, so I decided to play it safe and take the main roads to Greensburg, roads that form the two shorter sides of the triangle of roads from my house to the church.  It’s a bit longer, as geometry would tell you, but it’s not as winding and perilous on snowy days.

     Going north on the still unplowed main road, I noticed a small flock of crows floating down from the sky, landing in a perfect line, beak to tail feathers, perpendicular to the traffic flow.  It isn’t an unusual sight to see crows flutter down and land on the road, but usually they land in a glob, encircling a squirrel or raccoon that met its demise.  Yet, for some reason, this morning when they landed they spanned the road in a straight line, as if they were lining up to play a game of Red Rover with me.

     So, answering their daring invitation, “Red Rover, Red Rover. Let Jerry come over,”  I pressed down on my gas pedal and barreled forward behind the wheel of my wife’s Honda CRV.  I was reminded of those grade school days playing Red Rover on the playground and summoning over the biggest kid in our class.  As I approached, I decided that my opposing team wasn’t really a bunch of confident, cackling crows….but a bunch of chickens, because as I neared them they “chickened out” and flew away even before I could try and break through their line.

     Victory was mine!

     As I continued my victorious ride to church, I thought to my self, “You know, crows aren’t the only things that play Red Rover with folks on Sunday mornings.  There’s a bunch of things that line themselves up in an interlocking chain perpendicular to the path to church, There’s a bunch of things that think they can hold us back from hearing the life-changing words from God, speaking the truth that our sins do not have any claim on us, our God continues to stake out his claim on us by the forgiveness that came on the cross.  There’s a bunch of things that think they can hold us back from being part of a community of people who love each other in spite of our unloveliness.  There’s a bunch of things that think they can hold us back from communing with Jesus, himself, as he gives himself to us at the altar.  There’s a bunch of things that think they can hold us back from being gathered up in a peace that surpasses all human understanding, being grasped in a hope from which nothing in life or death can pull us away, from being lifted above the mundane routine of the world to be part of a mission of grace that has changed the universe.

     But this I know; when I make my way to church, I am really in something far more powerful than a Honda CRV….I am carried to church in the invitation of God.  God wants me to come and spend time with him, and he will let nothing stop me.  Now, I know that some may say that the thing that drives me to church every Sunday morning is my job of being a pastor, but I don’t think that is true.  And the reason that I say so is that I see 90+ year old people who walk with trepid step let nothing keep them from coming to church every Sunday…..I see busy families who are tugged in every direction let nothing keep them from coming to church every Sunday….I see people, young and old, whose ears ring with precarious prognoses let nothing keep them from coming to church every Sunday….I see folks whom the world has declared worthless let nothing keep them from coming to church every Sunday.  They don’t face a line of crows.  They face a line of illness, of teasing, of fear, of despair, of doubt, of failure……you name it…..but they, when they see that taunting line, do what I did this morning.  They put their foot on the accelerator and feel the power of the Holy Spirit surge…… and they watch the line that has taunted them fly away like a bunch of crows…..no chickens.

     “Red Rover, Red Rover…..let _________ come over.”

     Challenge accepted.  Here we come!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 2-25-13

Hello,

     Saturday I woke up at 12:00, noon.  I don’t know that I have ever slept the morning away.  I went to bed at 10 p.m., and when I opened my eyes to tackle the day, it was noon

     Lest you dub me lazy, the important thing for you to know is that I have been in a battle with the respiratory flu for the last two weeks.  Two weeks ago, today, it hit me like a Mack truck, sending me coughing and sputtering, flat on my back  Unfortunately, the flu’s timing did not match the season of worship services that comes with the beginning of Lent.  So, I wasn’t able to do what I should have done….stay in bed….and like all of you would have done, I did what I needed to do and brought my cough and hack with me to the pulpit.

     The weird thing about this battle with the flu is that the enemy’s war plan has been to attack in waves.  Just when it seemed that I have taken the upper hand, viral reinforcements have come along to see if they could bring me back to my knees, and they did.  So it was on Friday.  After a series of battle engagements, and thinking the conflict was over, the flu caught me off guard with an apparent offensive surge. 

     Not that it is a rare occurrence (a sign of the wild life that I live); I decided to hit the rack at 10:00 on a Friday night, thinking that a good night’s sleep might be the best defense against this surge.   Apparently my thinking was coming from my body’s central command center, telling me that I needed rest….and rest I got.

    Maybe it is not without coincidence that my unintentional bed-rest came at the beginning of Lent.  After all, the entire purpose of Lent is to draw away from the daily rigor of life in order to regain our strength and purpose.  For some of us, life is a fierce battle where each day brings with it new and determined reinforcements.  For others of us, the battle may not be as bombastic, but using guerilla warfare techniques the fight hits us unaware with limited but corrosive attacks. 

     Just like my battle with the flu, there comes a time when a message comes from central command saying, “rest!”  Take a rest from the hectic, high-pressure battlefield that life can become.  Step off the people mover, and sit down….sit down in a quieted time, uncluttered by demands and drive….and rest….rest in the presence of the one whose strength is unlimited,  and who has turned the full force of his power to fight on our side…to fight against guilt’s accusation with forgiveness, to fight against failure with eternal victory….to fight against the weariness of confusion with shepherding care.

     It may not seem that we can find the time to rest, but there comes a time for all of us that whether we want to or not, rest is unavoidable.  Lent, these 40 days in which we are engaged, calls us to do what we need to do……rest.  Come…..and rest….rest in the Lord.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor JerryNuernberger

The Bungee Cord 2-17-13

Hello,

     This is the first winter that we have lived in our house on top of the ridge, and this winter has confirmed the wisdom of two of the purchases we made as we moved in: a tractor, and a four wheel drive pick-up.  In the past several weeks we have had our fair share of snow up here, snow that doesn’t accumulate in Greensburg where it is warmer because of its lower elevation.  Four inches, six inches, three inches, and even now we are getting another 8-10 inches of snow.  The snow comes in waves, but unlike the snow in South Dakota where we used to live, it doesn’t pile up as warmer weather also comes in spurts to melt it away.

     Even though we know that the melting is coming, we still find ourselves needing to plow our lane every time it snows.  We have a nearly half mile lane that winds its way up our hill whose incline is too steep for a car to traverse without being plowed.  Thus the need for our tractor for which we have a plowing blade.  A wise investment.

    In addition to the utility uses of our four wheel drive pickup, our Ford Ranger has also proved its worth in this winter’s snows.  On those days when I have left for work and the ground was clear only to find it downy white in the afternoon when I returned home, simply by switching it into four wheel drive my pick up gets me up the hill as if it was going down hill instead of up.  Snow be not proud….I have a four wheel drive pick up!

     The other day, however, I discovered that my pick up has come in winter handy in a way that I had not anticipated.  As I was brushing the several inches of snow off the front windshield, my eye caught movement near the front driver’s side tire.  As I looked down I saw the source of that movement: a field mouse that had dropped out from the engine and was scurrying its way through the snow and through my feet.  I didn’t screech or yell, but I have to admit I jumped a bit by the surprise of a mouse darting through my feet.  Apparently when I last parked my truck, the warmth of the engine was just what this little field mouse needed to survive another bitter, cold night.  In terms of proving itself a worthy purchase, that mouse would have more than agreed with me on its winter value; a life saver.

     I don’t know that the Bible ever likens the Church to a Red Ford Ranger pickup, but it seems to me that the image is a good one.  Sometimes life can bring wave upon wave of snow, dropping a couple of inches here and a foot there, and what we need is something with sure footing to get us up a hill….and the church is that….when you take your seat in one of the pews, you can feel the traction of the Lord who trudged up Calvary’s hill grab the ground underneath you.  And then there are those times when you’re lost in a storm, a storm whose fury is out to get you, and what you need is a place of warm shelter….and the church is that…when you nestle into your seat the warmth of God’s forgiveness, the blanket of the people’s compassion, the shelter from the oppressive, attacking winds provides just what you need to save your life and strengthen you to face the world again.

     To what can the kingdom of God be compared?  How about a Red Ford Ranger Pickup.

It’s snowing again! 

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord 2-11-13

Hello,

     Note to self: do not drink 4 cups of coffee before donating white blood cells.

     A couple of months ago our church had a blood drive at which I bled a unit of blood that would be put to use to save someone’s life.  This was my first donation since moving to Pennsylvania, and as I had expected there isn’t much difference from state to state in the blood donation procedures. I was, however, surprised a couple of days later to get a phone call from the local Red Cross telling me that I had an exceptional platelet count, and they were wondering if I would be willing to come in for a platelet donation.

     Back in the ‘80’s when we lived in St. Paul, Minnesota, I participated in platelet donation, but for a variety of reasons had not done so since then.  As you may know, the procedure for donating platelets involves having a line placed in one arm that extracts your blood into a machine that separates white and red blood cells, and then there is a second line placed in the other arm that returns the red blood cells back to you and leaves the white ones behind in a collecting bag.  The whole process from hook up to unhooking takes about 3 hours.

     My appointment was set for 1:15 for this past Tuesday,  and I was told to hydrate well before I arrived.  So along with a very nutritious Wendy’s hamburger, I drank a big glass of pop before I walked into the Red Cross.  I suppose that the big glass of pop would not have been anything of significance except for the fact that I had had several cups of coffee in the morning while I was at work.

     I took my seat in the reclining chair where a TV was suspended in front of me to occupy my attention for the next 3 hours, and with a few misses of my veins and a few re-sticks, within a half an hour I was sending my blood into the separating machine.  “You can move your hands,” the technician told me, “but don’t move your arms.”  I don’t know if it was the realization that these words carried that I would have to be motionless for the next three hours that triggered some unconscious fear, but suddenly I found myself well aware of all the coffee and pop that I had drank summoning me to visit the little boy’s room…..which I would not be able to do for about three hours.

     To cut to the chase, let me say that it was a very difficult three hours.  The minutes passed more slowly than the minutes pass when sitting in a dentist’s chair having major work done on your molars.  I tried not to look at the clock, because every glance only seemed to magnify the pressure that I was feeling in my bladder.  Knowing that my blood was desperately needed due to the decrease of donors in this cold/flu season, I was determined not to plead for mercy and ask to have my donation cut short.  To say that my three hours of being “strapped” to the arms of that chair were agonizing is probably a bit hyperbolic, but to say that it was a battle with misery would not overstate the case.  When the bell rang on the machine stating my mission was complete, they couldn’t get me unhooked fast enough for me to run to the restroom.

     It seems to me that we have become so used to talking about the three hours that Jesus spent “strapped” to the cross, that we do so with a rather casual appreciation of what he went through for us.  Not to say that the discomfort that I endured for three hours in my reclining char came anywhere close to the excruciating pain that Jesus endured for three hours on the cross, but this Lent I wont say those words “they nailed him to the cross” with apathy.  If my experience of giving blood brought the level of misery it did for me, I cannot even imagine the level of misery that Jesus’ experience of shedding his blood brought to him.  Yet Jesus went willing to that cross to shed his blood so that every power or deed that would wish to claim you or me would be bled to death and only God’s claim would remain.

     These 40 days of Lent that lead us to Easter are meant to be days of honest reflection: honest reflection on the pain that we cause ourselves, those near and far from us, and especially God…but also honest reflection on the nearly incomprehensible love of God that he would send his Son, Jesus, to shed his blood on a cross so that we would be given a place in his heart forever.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger