The Bungee Cord   5-25-20

Hello,

There are many inconveniences and frustrations that have been part of life with the social distancing restrictions that have been put into place…no dinner with friends and neighbors, no playing hoops with a bunch of buddies, no hugging those who mean the world to us, mandatory wearing masks that fog up one’s glasses when going to the grocery store.  Multitude are the things that make us tired of dealing with this unfriendly and uninvited guest in our life, this voracious virus.

But there is one thing that has come with social distancing that is far greater than an inconvenience or frustration, and that is not being able to be in the same room with a loved one that is dying….dying from this virus, or dying from the “normal” thefts of life.  Fortunately, I have not personally had to deal with this unthinkably painful consequence of social distancing.  Maybe not for everyone and everywhere has this gruesome component of social distancing been enforced, but it has been enforced in this area of the country that I live.

I have heard many times the deep thankfulness given to nurses who do what they are not able to do, hold a dying loved one’s hand when life is slipping through their hands.  Nurses who say the things that loved ones wish they could say.  Nurses who bring their cell phones to bedsides and make a zoom connection with loved ones as the moments of life dwindle down.  Nurses who wipe the foreheads with a cool cloth.  Nurses who make sure that people they have never met do not die alone.  I have heard words of thanks for the love and care of nurses, but even amid the thankfulness there is a huge hole in people’s hearts for not being able to be there with their loved one when they died.

I don’t write of this painful part of these days in opposition to this painful separation at death. Is it necessary?  I don’t know.  I do know that the battle against this virus has made it abundantly clear how powerless we really are, and when one is engaged in such a lopsided battle I find myself listening to the counsel of those whose knowledge might be able to find the Achilles heel of this virus.  Thus I abide by the social distancing they call for, even the most painful ones.

The reason that I write of this is the pain of social distancing has helped me see the depth of love that God has for me in the sending of his Son, Jesus, to be with me in this world of intensive care in which I live.  God’s love for me is so great that he simply cannot and will not stand afar from me, even at the risk of his own suffering and death.  He will let nothing stop him from being there, holding my hand, wiping my brow, whispering love in my ear when I am holding on to life for all that I am worth, and even on that day when I can hold on no longer.  God’s love for me, and for you, is so great that he violently and zealously breaks all social distancing rules.

Now, I am not in any way suggesting that you or I should batter-ram our way through the social distancing barriers that have been put into place.  And the reason that we should not do so, is because we cannot do what God can do.  When we break social distancing regulations, we add to the power of the virus and increase, at least the likelihood, of further death.  When God broke the social distancing regulations, he took away the power of sin and evil, and brought everlasting life.

There are many who have a hard time assimilating the Christian faith into their lives because  the Christian faith proclaims that there is a God who so loves the world that he should send his only Son into the world, so that all who believe in him might have eternal life. In these times of imposed social distancing, I find it not so unbelievable that if human hearts experience a rending that is beyond their grief, but also beyond their power to overcome….that God, who has shown that God experiences this same depth of grief and has the power overcome this social distancing, does indeed do what we cannot do, breaks the barriers that stand between God and us, and overcomes and overwhelms the things that have thrown those barriers up.  

In these times the incarnation, that is God coming to us in Jesus, makes all the more sense to me….and makes me all the more thankful for it.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 5-18-20

Hello,
I usually write something fresh for the Bungee Cord, but I decided that my sermon from yesterday was worth Bungee'ing. It's a little longer than the normal Bungee Cords, but I hope that you find it a grasp of God's love on you in these times….

https://www.facebook.com/jerry.nuernberger.3/videos/3026032797453906/

Have a great week.
God's grace and peace, (ggap)
Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  5-11-20

Hello,

     There are some people who say, “If only we knew what the future holds.”  Then, there are others who say, “I am glad that I don’t know what the future holds, because then I might not want to go there.”  Truthfully, I find myself most often in the second category.  As I have lived life, I have discovered at least two things (hopefully more!).  First, I have discovered how powerful the forces are that swirl around me.  As we have all discovered these past months that even a tiny virus is so powerful that it can steal life from us.  Second, I have discovered how small and weak I really am….as Rich Mullins says in a great song of his, “We’re not as strong as we think we are.”  Boy, is that true.

     My general thought about dealing with the future is to say that to know what it holds is far less important than to know who holds the future.  “Lo, I am with you always,” said Jesus.  No matter what is in store for the future, Jesus promises that he will be there.  He will be there with his power and might that nothing can conquer, not even death. He will be there with his shepherding care, pulling us from the deepest and darkest ravines.  He will be there with his forgiveness and mercy, healing the pain that we bring to ourselves and those around us.  Whether the future is hard or smooth, Jesus will be there, and to me, knowing that is far more important than knowing what the future holds.

     When I have said this to some people, they roll their eyes at me.  Pious platitude.  That is what they say my words are.   They are words that sound really nice, but really don’t help out much when the future hits us like a Mack Truck.  Pious platitude.

     Would we say that a football offensive line averaging 350 lbs per person would be issuing a pious platitude to their running back when they say, “Follow us, we’ll get you through.”?  Would we say that hitching four elephants to the frame of a car buried to its roof in mud, and saying, “We’ll get that car out,” is merely a pious platitude? Would we say that a massive ice-breaking ship with a small boat behind it would be offering a pious platitude when it says, “Stay close, and we’ll get you through this artic straight.”? 

     Does it not follow then, that when the one whose power and love is so great that out of nothing that one created everything….that when the one whose power and love is so great that in an atom that power resides….that when the one whose power and love is so great that when death has killed life, he has raised up life by killing death….doesn’t it not follow then, that when this one says, “I will be with you always,” to label that promise as a pious platitude is a severe mislabeling.

     If a football offensive line’s words are words of solid hope….if a quartet of tugging elephants is a picture of certain victory….if a guiding ice-breaker is a force of certain passage…..well….then, when Jesus, the Son of God says to you and to me, “I am with you always,”, that is a word that pulls me into the future with confidence and courage.

     I don’t know what the future holds, but Jesus promises you and me that the future is in his hands.  Take heart.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  5-4-20

Hello,

“How long until we get there?” From the back seat of the our ’63 Chevy station wagon I repeatedly asked my parents as we traveled across Illinois, Iowa and into Nebraska in the pre-Interstate days to visit my Grandparents. Even though such unwanted answers like, “Four or five more hours,” stung my ears and my patience, it was far better to hear that answer than, “I don’t know.  It’s going to be a while.”

I don’t know why, but having some idea of the duration of the journey provides some level of solace. Maybe the solace comes from being able to measure one’s patience against the amount of boredom that lies ahead. But when the answer is “a while”, there is a looming fear that the journey’s length might be more than our restlessness can handle.

As I see things, I think this is the very problem that we are facing today on our Covid19 journey.  How long until we can see our friends again? How long until we can enjoy a meal at our favorite haunt?  How long until we can visit a aging loved one?  How long until we can go to a baseball game, or gather at church?  “How long until we get there?”

The answer that we get is not the answer that we want.  “I don’t know.  It’s going to be a while.”

We are not the first to get this answer.  Over and over again in the Bible the people want to know, “How long?”  How long will we suffer?  How long that you turn your face from us?  How long until we see your promises?  How long until your kingdom comes?  How long?

And the answer that always come to these questions is, “It is going to be a while?”  Never a specific date.  Never a specific time.  (I know that there are some who look to some books of the Bible and believe that specific answers are there….personally, and in the eyes of many scholars, even those books are not meant to give specific answers.)  “It is going to be a while.”

Listen to this verse from the book of Isaiah.

The Lord is the everlasting God,
   the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
   his understanding is unsearchable. ²⁹ He gives power to the faint,
   and strengthens the powerless. ³⁰ Even youths will faint and be weary,
   and the young will fall exhausted; ³¹ but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,
   they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
   they shall walk and not faint.

Notice, the answer that comes from scripture is not an answer that allows us to measure the journey’s length against our strength. The answer that Scripture gives turns our eyes to measure the journey’s length against the LORD’s strength.  And measuring the journey’s length against the LORD’s strength, there is an answer that gives us true solace….solace that we can build our lives on, solace on which we can build our patience.  Looking at our strength always puts the arrival of our trek’s end in jeopardy.  Looking at the LORD’s strength always puts our arrival at the trek’s end in certainty!

“How long until we get there?” we ask the LORD.

“Trust me,” says the LORD, “We WILL get there!”

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 4-19-20

The Bungee Cord 4-20-20

Hello,

One of the challenges of living in this time of shut-down is keeping track of time. The normal routines are gone, and the days sort of blend into each other. With that said, I think that we, here in Pennsylvania, are in the 5th week of our shutdown. 

Five weeks, and counting, of keeping apart from each other, not seeing friends or relatives, not following our favorite sports teams, not walking the halls of our schools, spending more time than usual with siblings, and virtually gathering for worship. Although these weeks have been really difficult in some ways….lack of income, isolating loneliness, and looming fear. It hasn’t been all bad. Some families have spent some great times together. They have even eaten together. The air is cleaner. The things of lesser importance that have consumed our lives have been revealed for what they really are: lesser important. And maybe the best thing of all is that if you are a member of my congregation, with this virtual worship you can just turn me off if I am boring, or you can fall asleep in my sermon without me noticing. For five weeks, this virus has taken hold of our world and our lives.

But it is not only the fifth week of the shut-down, it is also the second week of Easter. Two weeks ago we re-marked the day when the Son of God left a stone sealed tomb. This one man who had hung on a cross and died….who had been taken from that cross and wrapped in grave clothes…whose body lay lifeless since Friday afternoon…on whom the decay of death had begun its feast…………..this one man on Sunday morning was breathed back into life by God. And when this one man, Jesus, stepped out of that tomb, unlike others who may have brought back to life who would one day be tripped up by death again, each step that Jesus took was accompanied by the crackling sound of dead death being crushed. When this one man broke out of that tomb, a viral infection of God’s grace and power began with a hunger to infect the world. And the devastation that this divine infection would cause….the devastation of death, and the proliferation of everlasting life.

This is the second week of Easter! For two weeks, and counting, this year we find ourselves being drawn together in the outstretched embrace of God’s love, seeing all people as Christ blood relatives, cheering on victory after victory over hatred and evil, gathering with brothers and sisters in a mutual blessing of peace, and joining the celebration in heaven that happens when the Good Shepherd comes running back with a sheep that was lost but is now found!

It may be true that one small corona virus has broken loose, and ignited a raging fire that is violently burning throughout the world, shutting life down, and we are in the 5th week of that shut down. But it is equally true that one small man, one who also embodied the fulness of God, has also broken loose in this world and ignited a raging fire burning throughout the world, opening up life, and we are in the 2nd week of that explosion of life that has been exploding for centuries. This is the second week of Easter!

Interestingly, it is challenging to live in these Easter days. It is a challenge to keep track of time, of Easter time, because the world is always calling into our memory all of the other times that we live in….all the other things that are trying to take hold of our lives (a virus, a failure, a sin, a betrayal, a loss of a job, a death of a loved one, a dream that has popped……). So, today, as you read this Bungee Cord and you find yourself in whatever week that the things of this world has imposed upon you, let me remind you of the week that you are living in that God has brought to you…God, whose powerful love for you outshines the shadows of the world….THIS IS THE SECOND WEEK OF EASTER!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)
Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  4-27-20

Hello,

     As I have lived my life these nearly 63 years, over and over again, I have learned that the grip that God has on me is of far more importance than the grip that I have on God.

     I don’t know if it is a universal experience, but when I have found myself hiking in high places and my path brings me to a towering cliff, I can feel my heart speed up, my knees begin to wobble, and my anxiety gathering steam.  As I approach it, my steps are far more cautious and short.  I find myself looking for something to hold onto, and if I get the courage to make it to the edge and look down, dizziness invades my stature, and I feel a strong desire to get down on my hands and knees if I am going to glance downward over the cliff.  I tend to avoid such cliff bound paths.

     I am thankful, therefore, that for much of life’s trek that I have walked, it has not been along a narrow, cliff sided path.  My health has been pretty good, my refrigerator has always been adequately full, my closest relationships have been a blessing. As far as life goes, I am thankful that most of the time I am far away from the cliff’s edge.

     Maybe that is one of the reasons that these last couple of covid19 months have been a bit unsettling for me….and maybe for you. This is a time when we are all finding ourselves on a cliff sided road.  Truthfully, I see myself quite a ways from the edge of the cliff (the deathly danger of this virus is still a bit distant for me), but one cannot hardly take a step in life without having our eyes turned toward that cliff, always being reminded that it is there.  Fact is, that cliff is always there, it is just that for most of us we live our lives looking in other directions.

     There are others, however, who are far more accustomed to walking at cliff’s edge, maybe you are one of them.  And as I have come to know these folks, I have learned something very important from them: the grip that God has on me is of far more importance than the grip that I have on God.  

     A man in one of my previous congregations was very actively involved in Alcoholics Anonymous, and as I got to know him, I got to know the truth of the superior importance of God’s grip on me, than my grip on God.  Fact is, his walk had been one of cliff-side nearness, and when you are walking close to the cliff’s edge you become quite aware of how consequential a stumble or fall might be, and you also become quite aware of how easy it is in life to stumble and fall.  Actually, he had stumbled and fell, more than once.  On many of his falls, he caught himself, and he could pull himself back up from dangling over the cliff.  But a time came when his fall was too far and his arms were not strong enough to pull him up, let alone hang on, and that is when he, like so many others, learned of the powerful love of God for him that would not let him go. Pulled up by God and set back upon the path, he felt the embrace of God in the AA folks that he came to know. And so, to this day, no matter what time of the day or night it might be, if the phone rings and on the other end is someone who is holding on for dear life, this man will go to the cliff’s edge with courage and confidence, courage and confidence in the grip of God on him, and lend his hands to the work of God and with divine strength take hold of someone who is where he has been, hanging from a cliff.

     It is my weekly hope that this Bungee Cord reaches you in the same way.  I hope that every time that I send it out, you feel the grip of God’s love taking hold of you, no matter how near or far from a cliff you are.  Holding on to God is a good thing, but when the rocks underneath you crumble under your feet, when the wind blowing around you causes you to lose  your balance, and when the path is frightenly narrow and treacherous, know this:  God has a grip on you, and God won’t let go (Romans 8)!

     Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  4-6-20

Hello,

     I have a reputation (a good one, I hope) for doing something a bit over the top for Easter Sunday worship.  I figure that doing so is appropriate, after all, on that first Easter Sunday morning God did something quite over the top!  He raised Jesus, his Son, from the dead!

     Not all of the “creative” things that I have done have been universally welcomed….maybe some of you who have been members of the congregations that I have served remember, fondly, I hope, some of the Easter surprises.

     Some years ago, I had, what I thought, was a great idea.  It so happened that on Good Friday, on my way to church for the evening worship service, I stopped at a Quizno’s, sort of an upscale Subway.  As I approached the counter the gal behind the counter took one look at me and said, “I know what you are going to order.”  I was wearing my clerical collar, and since it was Friday, she surmised that I would be ordering the non-meat option.

     When I told her that I would like the roast beef sandwich, she looked at me and said, “Aren’t we still in Lent?”  I responded to her that we indeed were still in Lent, but as a Lutheran pastor, and not a Catholic priest, I still dined on meat on Fridays. Thus the seed for my Easter surprise.

     So, when Easter came and I stepped into the pulpit to proclaim the earth-shaking news of Easter, I began my sermon by telling of my Good Friday Quizno’s encounter.  Borrowing from a famous sermon by Tony Campolo, I said, “You know, that sandwich preparer was right.  We were still in Lent.  But not today.  Lent is over! Easter is here!”

     And then I went on to say with all the southern Christian muster that this northern Lutheran could muster, “All the honest reflection of Lent…looking into the mirror and seeing the pain that we bring into our lives and into the world…pain that tells us over and over again of our failures and weaknesses…that was Lent.  But Lent is gone!”

     And then I paused and said, “And here’s you line:  when you hear me say, ‘and Lent is gone’, I want everyone to stand up and shout as loud as they can, “Easter is here!”

     And so we practiced it once.  I said, “But Lent is gone!”, and everyone in the congregation stood up and sort of yelled, “Easter is here!”

     Not badly done by a bunch of Swedish descendants, but I said, “You know, I bet that if you were at a High School basketball game and someone from our team just scored the winning point as the clock ran out, you would be a lot louder.  And when you consider that victory that Jesus won, when he stepped out of the hands of defeat on Easter Sunday morning….well, I would expect a louder shout than I just heard.  As a matter of fact, I would expect trumpets blaring and the band playing!  Well, actually I think we can do that!”

     That is when I bent over and pulled a grocery bag from behind the pulpit and reached into the bag and pulled out party horns!  Enough horns for everyone in the congregation.  I got down from the pulpit and started handing them out….much with varied levels of delight in the eyes of the receivers. When everyone had their horns, I got back up in the pulpit, and I said, “So, here’s what we are going to do:  when you hear me say, “But Lent is gone!”, jump to your feet and yell, “Easter is here!”.  And after you’ve yelled, blow your horn!”

      And so, I in a series of litanies, I enumerated the heavy things of the world that we take an honest look at during the season of Lent….our sins, our lack of faith, our penchant to fear….and when I finished each of these, I said, “But Lent is gone!”  And as instructed, the congregation….well not everyone….jumped up and yelled back, “Easter is here!”, and they blew their horns.  I thought it was wonderful.  People laughed, as they should laugh on Easter….laugh at death, laugh at the powerlessness of their sins, laugh at the shame and guilt with which the world shackles them.

     Well, as I said, not everyone jumped up, and as it turned out, not everyone laughed.  A few kept to their seats, and a visible scowl came across their faces.  Well, as I have come to learn, not everyone will be happy with the things that I do to make the Gospel known in this world.

     Later that week, I received a letter in the mail from one who did not jump up.  “This was the worst Easter service I have ever been to,” wrote the writer.   “You owe the congregation an apology.” Actually, I was glad to receive that letter, because it told me that there was a path of communication between the writer and me, a path that I was thankful to walk on with this writer, because the writer signed their name.

     I called the writer and issued an invite to come and talk about what had been written, and the writer agreed to do so.  When the writer came to the church to talk, I said, “Thank you for coming,” and I mentioned that I didn’t think that we had had a chance to talk with one another previously, and I tried to strike up a conversation of getting to know one another better.

     “Let’s get to the letter,” was the first things that came from the writer’s lips, and the writer spoke to me of the distaste that remained from that Easter service.  “It was the worst Easter service I have ever been to,” the writer said, “and I think you owe the congregation an apology.”

     I said, “I wonder if you had seen what I had seen, you would still feel the same way.”  What I saw was a family sitting in the second row right in front of the pulpit…a family with a couple of kids.  The older one was early elementary age and for the past several years was battling an illness that required several hospitalizations.  The illness was powerful.  As it happened the child was home between treatments that Easter morning, and in my sermon when I said, “But Lent is gone!”, that child was the first one to jump up with an ear to ear smile and yell, “Easter is here!”, leading the congregation in bold horn blowing.  That is what I saw.

     When the letter writer heard what I saw, the writer responded, “Oh.  I didn’t see that.”, and the writer withdrew the request for a congregational apology.

     I thought I would relate this story to you at this time, because for me, that child’s exuberance brought the power of Easter to me like none other.  We are in a time when the darkness of the world seems very powerful…but the power of the virus….the power of the fear that it instills…the power of death that it brings….the power of the virus is the power of the world, the power of that we take an honest reading of during Lent.

      But on this Easter Sunday morning, just like we discover every Easter Sunday morning, that power is powerless against the power of God’s love. So this Sunday when you arise, and the Lenten voices of the world begin to swirl in your ears, do this:  jump out of bed, and yell, “EASTER IS HERE!”…..and if you have a horn, blow it boldly!

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger