Bungee Cord 2-9-15

Hello,

     The Bible tells us that the rain fell upon the earth for 40 days and 40 nights.  It says the Israelites wandered in the wilderness from Egypt to the promised land for 40 years.  Jesus, it says, was tempted by the devil for 40 days in the wilderness, and Christians all around the world will begin their yearly 40 day journey through Lent beginning next Wednesday, Ash Wednesday.

    The number “40” is a common number in the Bible, and as with many numbers in the Bible it has a deeper meaning than just its numerical value.  Actually, the truth that I learned in my seminary years is that the number “40” is rarely meant to denote its numerical value.  Like many figures of speech in English, the number “40” amongst the Hebrew speaking people of the Old Testament is really meant to be heard as “a long time”.  The number 40 was used in much the same way that we might use “all day” (e.g. – When I called the IRS they put me on hold “all day”. (Do you sense a bit of personal input here?))

     Well, I am coming upon an actual “40” years in my life, my 40^th anniversary of my high school graduation for which a reunion has just begun to be planned.  When I think back to 1975, in some ways it seems like “a long time” ago but in other ways not so long ago.  I remember seeing alumni come back for their 40^th reunion and as they walked down the parade route I thought to myself, “Boy, do they look old!”  But now that I am one of those 40 year folks, I don’t perceive myself to be as old as those upon whom I looked 40 years ago.  On the other hand, much has changed over these 40 years.  I have aged, and I wonder if others might recognize me or not when they see me.  I moved away from my home town to go to college, and my work life has never led me back, and so I wonder how much at home I will feel in my home town.  I have lost touch with almost everyone with whom I graduated (except for facebook “friends” with whom I have made social media connections),  and so I wonder what it might be like to reunite with what will seem to me to be a group of strangers.  Could be interesting!

     I wonder who might come to this 40^th reunion, and I wonder what the talk will be amongst those who get together.  I suspect that many will share the stories that they remember from those days 40 years ago.  I suspect that many will tell the tales of where life has taken them over these 40 years.  And this is what I suspect the common content of all these stories will be….good memories, good times, and good adventures.  That is, after all, what high school reunions are meant to be.

     My other suspicion is that there will be a group of people missing from this high school reunion: those people for whom life has been hard, fraught with “failures”, and whose stories and tales bring bad memories.  Don’t think many of these people will travel far, give up their time, and spend their money to be part of something that they know will magnify in their eyes these painful things.

     As a Pastor for 32 of these past  40 years, it seems to me that many folks envision church to be like a high school reunion…to be a place where people come whose lives are full of good memories, good times and good adventures….a place for good people.  More than once when divorce strikes a couple, I have seen those people vanish from church.  More than once when a person has found their dirty laundry being aired out on the front page of the paper, that person no longer comes to church.  More than once, I have seen people who I know are grappling with soul-deep pain come to church with a cosmetic smile that they hope will hide the crushing turmoil in their lives.

     But here’s the kicker: church was never meant to be a high school reunion.  Church is meant to be the place where people reunite every week to share everything in life….the good….and the bad.  A time and a place to rejoice.  A time and a place to weep.  A time and a place to celebrate victories.  A time and a place to put the past behind and start over again, fresh.  A time and a place where we don’t have to hide from one another, where we don’t have to be judged by one another, and where we can lift one another up by the power of the one who was lifted on the cross.

     So, whether or not  people will be surprised to see you at a high school reunion, know that when you come to church, people won’t be surprised.  They will be glad…glad to see you, glad to hear you, and glad to love you (at least that is the way it is supposed to be in church.).  Also  know this: no matter whether it has been 40 minutes, 40 days, 40 months, or even 40 years since you have been to church…it doesn’t matter.  Jesus invites you anyway….for a reunion with him!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord 2-2-15

Hello,

Pete Carroll.

If we were to play a little game of word association, I wonder what the first thing that would come to your mind if I said the name, “Pete Carroll”?

I would venture to guess that it if you watched the Super Bowl last night you would say the “rotten” call at the end of the game when he went for a pass, that was intercepted, rather than run the ball which would have certainly (really?) scored the winning Touchdown.

I know when I turned on Mike and Mike, ESPN, this morning that is almost completely what the discussion was all about.  Person after person came on to say that Pete Carroll’s decision to pass rather than run was hard to understand and close to idiotic.  “What was he thinking?” said guest after guest.  It seems quite possible that this blunder (?) by Pete Carroll with be the one thing that will be remembered about Super Bowl 49 for years and years to come.

Just goes to show how easy our failures, our foibles, our faults and our fractures can become the thing that we are known for, not just in football games, but also in life.  Benedict Arnold…traitor.  Richard Nixon….Watergate.  Bill Clinton….Monica Lewinski.  Lance Armstrong….liar.  Michael Phelps…DUI.  You…?  Me…?

Maybe this phenomenon is the reason why we so fear failure.  Maybe it is the reason that we work so hard to hide our foibles.  Maybe it is the reason that we feel the drive to be faultless.  Maybe it is the reason that we don’t let people know how fractured and broken we really are.

Thing is, though, even if no one else knows these things about us, we know them, and we see them every time we look into a mirror.  We know what losers we are.  We know how foolish we are.  We know how painfully imperfect we are.  We know how messed up we are.

It is in this knowledge that I find the deepest relevance of the Christian faith.  The Christian faith is founded on a God who knows what we know about ourselves….a God who knows and cares about the pain that these things bring to our lives and to the world…a God who sends his Son to silence the claim of these things on us and claims us as his own…a God who is at work in us shaping us with divine love and mercy.  The Christian faith is about a God who does not remember us according to our sins, but according to what he has done to overcome our sin.  That is the magnet that draws me into faith, into worship, and even into life.

So, when you have blown it, like Pete Carroll blew it (at least the world thinks he did), let me invite you to come to be among a bunch of people who are well aware of their tendency to blow it…to church…and find out that there’s a place for people who have failed, people with foibles, people who have faults, and people who are fractured.  A place where you will be embraced with God’s grace and be enlivened by the way that God remembers you….as his beloved child.

1 John 3:1  “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called Children of God, and that (not our failures, our foibles, our faults, our fractures) is what we are.”

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 1-16-15

Hello,

“Let’s play two!”

As a kid who grew up in the 60’s in suburban Chicago, I would regularly turn on WGN TV, Channel 9, at 1:00 on a summer afternoon to watch the Cubs play in the “friendly confines” of Wrigley Field.  Jack Brickhouse and Lou Boudreau called the games, and they punctuated the play with “Hey! Hey! Holy Mackerel” as balls left Cub bats and soared over the outfield ivy to be gathered in by the loyal bleacher bums.

Today, as I sit next to my fireplace on a chilly western Pennsylvania day, deep in Pirate’s land, four inches of snow freshly fallen on the ground, months away from the first pitch of the next baseball season, I am blanketed by those childhood memories of the Chicago Cubs because a wind far colder than a winter wind has blown across my world, the wind of death.  Yesterday, Ernie Banks, “Mr. Cub” died.

“Let’s play two,” he would say with delight as he took the field to do what he woke up looking forward to do, play baseball.  His deep hitch in his signature swing left its mark over and over again on those summer days, doing what most short-stops couldn’t do, hit home runs.  By the time of my Cub fan-dom Ernie had aged a bit and was no longer at short stop but was holding down first base.  Though his quickness had diminished, his delight certainly had not…it may have even grown, still able to play the game.  Smiling as he tossed practice grounders to the infielders.  Intensely concentrating as he stood at the plate, and grinning from ear to ear as he glided around the bases, another home run in Wrigley Field.

From all reports Ernie’s off the field personality matched his on the field personality.  He was as Mike Greenburg of ESPN said this morning, “a nicer man than Ernie could not be found.”

The Cubs, as all baseball fans know, never won a pennant while Ernie played for them.  (Came close in ’69…UGH, the Mets!), but that never seemed to dampen Ernie’s spirit.  Although I am sure that Ernie would have wished for a World Series Flag to fly over Wrigley Field during his tenure on the team, to play the game…to be out there on the field with his team, to take on the challenge of hitting a curve ball when the count was 0-2, to fire up his aging legs to try and make it to third from first on a hit by Ron Santo to right field….that was the catalyst of his joy.

I learned something far more important than baseball skills from Ernie.  What I learned was that in a world so driven by winning, it really isn’t winning at all that brings joy to our days…the thing that motivates a person to get out of bed and tackle the day ahead.  Joy, as evidenced by Ernie, is more solidly found in simply being in the game.

As a pastor I try to remember that.  In my tenure of 30+ years, evil is still swinging a pretty mean bat.  Children still die of hunger related diseases all over the world.  Power mongers still inflict suffering and war over those who have what the powerful want.  People who by their own doing have fallen into deep pits continue to be passed by by those who haven’t yet so stumbled.  Fear still takes a hold of people’s hearts and higher walls are built.  To be a Christian seems to me akin to being a Cub.

But that is where I hope I have learned something from Ernie Banks….and learned something from Jesus: solid joy is simply to be found in being in the game.  To hear the words “thank you” from one who has just eaten a free meal in our fellowship hall….to see a smile come across the face of one to whom the world has pushed out the door but I have given a handshake of welcome….to see a tear form in the eye of one whose life is slipping through their hands as I place a piece of bread in their hand and say “This is the body of Christ, given for you….FOR YOU.”…to stand at a graveside and in the face of what seems so final and say death is not the final word, rather Jesus has won the last word and that is, “This one is mine, and death you can’t keep this one from me.”

There may not be a pennant of glory flying over me, but there is a cross marked on me….”So, let’s play two!”

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 1-19-15

Hello,

Just when I thought that I had seen it all, last week I saw something on TV that broke that assumption apart.

Tractor Square Dancing.

Yes, Tractor Square Dancing.  There is a thing here in Pennsylvania that is sort of an indoor winter state fair….cattle judging, pig shows, chickens and sheep….tractor pulls, implement displays…and something that I have never seen at a fair…tractor square dancing.

It is just what it sounds like.  Eight antique tractors with grey haired and no haired drivers following the directions of a caller….a la mande left, dos a dos, promenade right, circle up, and swing your partner.  By the precision of the “dancers” you could tell that this was something that these folks had often practiced…which led me to wonder: who would have ever thought this up?  I am trying to imagine a bunch of retired farmers gathered around the table of the local café where they meet every day at 7:00, when in between the gaps of silence that make city-folks uncomfortable one of the guys says, “Ever thought about doing square dances with our tractors?”

The pregnant pause that surely must have followed would have left most of us to conclude that there wasn’t much support for the idea, but if you have ever sat at one of these tables, you would not have been surprised to hear a coffee cup set on the table and out of the side of one of the guy’s mouth, “Sounds good to me.”  And so began Tractor Square Dancing…..maybe.

“What do you say we go to Jerusalem?” said Jesus to his disciples.  Jerusalem: the place where his face would have been posted amongst the “Most Wanted” in the post office, the place where those who enjoyed judging and condemning were doing all they could to silence Jesus’ words of forgiveness and mercy, the place where the appetite for his life was most ravaging, the mouth of the lion.  “What do you say that we go to Jerusalem?”

If there was a pregnant pause, it certainly would have been caused by the disbelief of the disciples at the hearing of Jesus’ words.  Having wandered around with him for the last several years and saying over and over again to themselves at the things that they saw him do (like eat with the town’s biggest slime bag –Zacchaeus) and say (like “pray for your enemies”),  “I thought we had seen it all,” one can only imagine the thickness of the silence that fell around that table.

But that is the wonder of what Christians call the Gospel, i.e. the good news of Jesus Christ.  Just when you might think that you’ve seen it all when it comes to the crazy things that God will do, we see the one who carries the name of the Son of God set his face toward torture, suffering and death.  And why?  The Bible tells us: love (John 3:16,17).

I found myself laughing at the square dancing tractors.  I find myself astounded by the Jerusalem bound Jesus.  Astounded that the Divine, the Wholly and Holy Other would so hold the likes of me, or the likes of anyone as a matter of fact, as the apple of his eye that that one would completely incarnate himself in humanity and then irreversibly and intentionally walk into the worst pain that humanity could conjure up.  It is hard to believe….and some find it impossible to believe.

But having seen the outrageous creativity of old farmers with old tractors, I find myself saying that maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised at the outlandish determination of the Creator to make all things new with me…and you.  So, when I see someone baptized and remember my Baptism, when I hear the words “your sins are entirely forgiven”, when I receive a piece of bread and a sip of wine containing the promise of the presence of Jesus body and blood, and when I hear that I have been enlisted to bring God’s hope into a hopeless world…well, I don’t find myself saying with unexpected surprise, “Just when I thought that I had seen everything.”  Instead, I find myself saying with the expectation of being surprised, ‘Thanks be to God.”

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 1-13-15

Hello,

     In case any of you were wondering, I am still here.

     The cause for your wonderment may be you heard of the weather that stormed through here last week. 

     Monday night at 11:00, I did what I do every night.  I roused my dog from his sleep to take him outside for him to do his business.  When we opened the door and stepped out into the dark I was amazed at what a beautiful night it was: still and warm.  With his business done, we came back inside and made our way to the kitchen to get the mandatory dog treat.  When I reached into the cookie jar to get the dog treat, my eye caught the reading on our anemometer monitor; 2 miles per hour wind speed.

     Duty done, I resumed my seat in front of the TV to watch the basketball game that was going on.  My watching, however, was interrupted by what sounded like a commercial jet landing in my back yard.  The wind had suddenly kicked up as a cold front was making its way through.  The roar went on and on, rattling my windows and shaking my house.  It shook my house to the point that there were waves in the water in my toilet…not whitecaps, but waves.  At midnight when I turned myself in for the night I decided to take a look at the anemometer monitor to find out what assault of wind my house was taking.  Forty-six miles per hour…sustained.  I stood that at that monitor for several minutes and the monitor didn’t change: forty-six miles per hour.  For at least an hour the wind attacked my house at forty-six miles per hour.

     And I am still here.

     We knew when we built our house that this would be a windy location.   So, we secured the walls of our house to the foundation with hurricane straps.  The shingles on our roof are one level below hurricane grade.  The windows are heavy duty, and the siding is well secured.  Our foundation is firmly set upon the rock beneath it.

     Thus, I am still here.

     You don’t have to live on the top of a hill in Western Pennsylvania to experience what I did this past week.  I believe I can say with certainty that all of us have had the same happen to us no matter where we live.  Haven’t we all stepped out into the darkness of our lives to be greeted with balmy weather….you know…things are peaceful with the people we care about the most, things seem calm at work, gentle breezes waft us into the morrow.  When all of the sudden the weather takes a turn: winds erupt with death, blizzards attack with failures, the mess that you have made of your life thunders all around you.  It has happened to me.

     And I am still here.

     I know that this life is a windy life, and so I have taken the words of Jesus to heart.

24 ‘Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. ²⁵The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. ²⁶And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. ²⁷The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell—and great was its fall!’

     In the waters of Baptism, God christened me with a promise, a promise of unconditional and indestructible love and mercy, and within that love and mercy God has staked out a place for me to build my life, and so I have.  There have been other plots with inviting vistas and views that grabbed my attention, but there is something about this plot of God’s grace that has held me here….held me here when life’s weather has been still and warm…and even when the fronts charge through…when the rain falls, the floods come, and the winds blow and beat on my house it holds me…and see…

     I am still here.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 1-5-15

Hello,

Way back in August, I took on a “little” project: to phone everyone in the congregation. 

The purpose of my phone call was simply to say “hi” and to see how everyone is doing.  The church that I serve is a pretty normal Lutheran church in that there are a lot more people on our membership roster than the number of people that attend worship on any Sunday morning.  This happens because we believe that when Christ takes us into his family, it is his love and claim on us that secures us a place in his family.  It isn’t how good or bad we are.  It isn’t how active or inactive we are.  It isn’t how much we contribute or do not contribute.  Just like most human families, we Lutherans believe that it is who we are, children of God, that marks our family identity. (Of course we learn more of each other when we spend time together, and God’s grace is more formative in our lives when we share time together around the family table.)

So, First Lutheran of Greensburg, Pa. has about 1200 people on our membership roster, and my hope was to make a contact with every one of them before the year was over.  Well, as you know, the year ended a couple of days ago, and I can say that I met my goal.  I made over 500 phone calls and sent a letter to another 100 for whom we had no telephone number. 

It turned out to be a very interesting project.

I found out how busy people are, in that I reached a lot of answering machines instead of people.  So when I was told by the machine to leave a message, I did.   “Hi.  This is Pastor Jerry from First Lutheran calling to say “hi” and see how you’re doing.  Unfortunately, I’ve missed you today.  But I hope that by virtue of this call and the letter that I will send you, you know that as your Pastor, I am here for you.  Nothing too big…nothing too small.  If I can help you, please feel free to ask.  It might work out better for you to call me so that we can chat…..” 

I reached about 150 and got a chance to talk with them.  “Hi.  This is Pastor Jerry from First Lutheran, and I ‘m calling today to say “Hi” and to see how you’re doing.  So, “Hi,” and “How are you doing.?”

I also found out that we have a lot of wrong numbers, and so for those people I sent a letter saying basically what I left on the answering machine.

I learned some things:

First, the people appreciated my call.  Many thanked me for my call when I talked to them, and many for whom I left a message expressed their thanks when they saw me later.

Second, many people thought that I had some hidden agenda in my call, “Well, I know, Pastor, that I don’t get to church as often as I should.”  To which I responded, “This isn’t a guilt call.  I am just calling as your pastor to say “Hi” and see how you are doing.”

Third, it is pretty easy for people to fall through the cracks and get lost.

Why did I take on this project?  Because of what Jesus said, and what Jesus did.

What did he say? “By this all people will know that you are my disciples: by the love that you have for one another.”  It seems to me that these words get lost among Jesus’ disciples today, and I was trying to give them back their place by making a contact of unconditional love…the kind of love that Jesus has for each of God’s children.

What did Jesus do?  He, like the shepherd in his parable, went and sought out the sheep that had wandered off, and in finding them he rejoiced.  It seems to me that this, too, has gotten lost among Jesus’ disciples today.  It is far too easy for us to turn our focus to those “good” sheep who stay in the fold, and give the message to those who wander that we have either forgotten them or given up on them…neither of which Jesus did.

I know that a  phone call is a relatively minor contact with a person, and I know that receiving a Bungee Cord in your e-mail is even more minor.  But it is my hope that when the people of First Lutheran received my phone call or letter, or when you receive every Bungee Cord you experience what the Christian faith and church is really all about: that God loves you unconditionally and that he will stretch out his reach of grace and mercy (like a bungee cord) as far as you wander, holding on to you in the palm of his hand, rejoicing when you are carried back to rest near to his heart.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (GGAP)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord 12-29-14

Hello,

     In a couple of days we will have ended another spin around the sun.  According to the internet, we’ve been travelling at 67,062 miles per hour and spinning at the rate of somewhere around 1000 miles per hour.  That’s quite a ride!  Compare that ride to the ride of the fastest roller coaster in the world,  the Formula Rossa in the United Arab Emirates which races along its track at a top speed of 150 miles per hour.  If you can’t go that far for a thrill, there’s a coaster at Cedar Point, Sandusky, Ohio that hits 120 miles an hour.

     I know the feeling of my stomach in my throat as I have gotten of some roller coasters, a couple of which I have said when I stepped off, “I don’t think that I will do that again!”  There are some people who enjoy that feeling.  They enjoy the racing of their hearts and the sweat gushing from their glands.  But not me.  Put me in a Bumper Car or a water dowsing Log Ride, and I will feel like I have gotten my money’s worth out of my amusement part ticket fee.

     The problem about the ride that you and I have taken this year  around the sun is that there is no getting off.  And unlike amusement park rides, the ride around the sun is never the same.  Well, physically it may be the same, but in reality it takes us over and around new curves, up and down new valleys, and spinning us through new cork screws.  We never know as the ride starts again if it will be smoother or bumpier, calmer or scarier.  All we know is that we’ll be travelling at 67,062 miles per hour and spinning at 1000 miles per hour.

     No wonder we are often pretty tired and worn out as we end each lap.

     When I take my seat on a roller coaster, I make sure that I am firmly clamped in by the safety bar across my lap.  Fact of the matter, I even feel more prepared for the ride ahead if I am fastened to my seat not only across my waist, but also over my shoulders.  As I hear the clicking of the track engaging the car, I jostle the harnesses to make sure they are tight and say, “Ok….here we go!”

     So, as you and I hear the seconds click as the track engages our car to take us into the coaster ride ahead, notice that you are well strapped in…strapped in by the arms of Jesus that were nailed into place for you.  Who knows how wild the ride will be this year, but beyond the fact that we can be certain of the speed and the spin, we can also be certain of this: we will not be thrown out.  So if you are feeling your heart beginning to race and  sweat beginning to rise, fear not.  Jesus will hold you tight through each bend and twist, climb and fall until you arrive at the end of this year’s spin…..where you’ll get to go for yet another ride.  “Ok….here we go!”

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (GGAP)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger