Bungee Cord 12-31-12

Hello,

     We’ve had some snow up on the ridge.  How much?  I don’t know, but with the vigorous winds that swish through here, we have drifts that rise to our knees.  Since this is the first winter that we have lived on our hill-top, we are being taught our lessons of dealing with the snow by the harsh teacher of experience.

     The drive from the main road to our place is a little less than a half a mile….all up hill!  The drive begins with a gentle sloped straight-a-way and then with a sharp left turn the incline increases as it parallels the hillside.  The next section of the lane is short, but it is steep, connecting the lower parallel road to the higher one.  In a low flying plane, the lane looks a bit like a squared off backwards question mark.

     We have a tractor with a blade on it.  It is my wife’s favorite toy.  So, when you come by our house and see her on our tractor, know that it is not a sign of my laziness, but rather her childhood delights being lived out.  She’s been busy plowing with the tractor trying to keep up with the snow, and for the most part we’ve been able to traverse our lane.  Unfortunately, we were away for a couple of hours, and the show got ahead of her/us. 

     So, as I was driving up our lane and made the turn onto the short but steepest section, the tires of our Honda CRV started spinning and we wound up sliding into the ditch alongside the road.  In order not to make the situation worse, we gave up on our upward climb, and my wife climbed out of the car saying, “I’ll go get the tractor.”  About 10 minutes later, out from the trees where our house is located came the slowly plodding tractor with my wife at the wheel.  Her plan was to try and clear the snow down to the stone bed, hoping that the front wheels of our car would grab and we would be freed from the drift into which we had slid.  “It’s going to take a while,” she said, “if you want to go inside, I’ll come and get you when it is ready.” So, up the hill I walked and sat down in front of the fireplace that was crackling with burning wood.

     About 2 hours later, she knocked on the door and said she had gotten it ready.  I put my coat and boots back on and headed down to our snow-trapped car.  When we got there, I told her to gun the car so the back wheels would spin, and with the wheels spinning, I would push the back end of the car back on the road on which she had done her clearing.  For some reason, the wheels would not spin, and when they did spin and the car would move, they would immediately just stop.  We worked at it for a half hour, getting nowhere.  Our neighbors happened by on the snow mobiles and with the strength of two more people, we got it to move, but still not enough to get out of the ditch and up the hill. 

     My frustration and patience were melting so I decided that I should give it a try behind the wheel.  My efforts were no more productive.  After a couple of attempts, my wife said to me, “Your back wheels keep on locking up.”

     So, I glanced at the parking break…..and guess what….it was set.  Apparently I had set it when I left to go inside as the car rested on the incline.  I released the parking break by depressing it again, and with the ease of a bulldozer the car ascended the slope.  That is all it took: releasing the parking break.  All that work…all that frustration…..all that anger….all  because of a set parking break.  “Ugh,” I thought to myself.

     Wouldn’t it be nice if all of the struggles we face would have at such an easy fix, but you and I know that isn’t the way it works.  Many of the struggles that we face in life are so multi-facetted that the solutions are not quick and easy, but long and hard.  Other struggles are so deep and profound that it doesn’t seem like there is an answer.  Others come with resolutions that are worse than the problem itself, and some seem to come with no solution.

     That is the way life is.  You know it.  I know it, and the people who come to church on Sunday mornings know it.  When you find yourself sledding up a steep hill in life and going nowhere, know that there is a bunch of people who are glad to join you in your struggle: to lift you up when your strength is spent, to encourage you with their care when the struggle is long, to hold you when everything seems to be falling apart.  Sometimes Christians are guilty of pronouncing easy answers to life’s struggles, but most of the Christians for whom I have been their pastor have wallowed in life’s complexity themselves, and they know all too well that simple and easy answers are rarely found.  They know that their faith isn’t built on the hopes that God would solve all their problems.  Their faith is built on the cross and resurrection that shows God’s power to overcome all of our struggles.

     So, when you are stuck in a ditch and easy answers are hard to find, come join God’s people on Sunday morning, and you will find people who will embrace you with the grasp of God, the one who has shown his resolve to overwhelm all of our struggles with his grace and mercy.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord  12-24-12

Hello,

(continued from last week….last week’s Bungee Cord can be found on my blog 1Johnthreeone.blogspot.com)

….The Driver didn’t budge, “I am NOT going in there!” said the driver as he stood right under the sign that warned, “No Swimming.  No Fishing.  No Boating”  “You girls should have been watching where you were going.  I am NOT going in that pond.”

     Betsy also stood in the shadow of the sign, and she could hear her parent’s words echoing, “Absolutely – and under no circumstances……”  But this was here sister struggling in that pond – her sister whose heart beat with hers – her sister whose life was woven into hers – her sister whom she loved.  Reflex took hold of Betsy, and she plunged into Peabody’s Pond – that pond full of acid that would eat holes in her skin, full of chemicals that would breed cancer, and full of glass that would slice her like shark’s teeth.  She plunged into that pond to save her sister.  She could not have done otherwise.  It was a reflex; a reflex of the heart.

     “No swimming.  No fishing.  No boating.”  Surely a sign like that is posted on the banks of this life in which you and I live; a life where we, bruised and beaten try to keep ourselves afloat.

·      It’s a world full of the acid of hate and envy that eats holes in people’s lives.

·      It’s a world full of greed and selfishness that breeds cancer and pain.

·      It’s a world where violence and oppression lie like broken glass ready to slash deep.

What would lead anyone to plunge into this pool of misery to save us?

     Only a reflex, a reflex of the heart.

     That is what Christmas is all about – the reflex of a heart – the reflex of God’s heart. “Do not be afraid,” the angel said, “for see, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all people; to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”  On this day, Jesus, the Son of God, plunged into our lives – knowing full well the painful consequences he would suffer – all the painful consequences of hatred, the greed and the violence that would nail him to the cross – nevertheless, he plunged into our lives out of reflex – the reflex of his heart, the heart of God!

Have a blessed Christmas and a great week,

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord
12-18-12

Hello,

     Here’s the first half of a little Christmas story that I wrote some years ago:

   “No Swimming.  No Fishing.  No Boating.”  So said the sign that stood on the banks of what everyone called Peabody’s Pond.  They called it that because people said that years ago Old Man Peabody lived right next the pond in a dilapidated shack, and when he lived there the pond was so different.  It was a favorite swimming hole for the town kids.  And when they weren’t swimming in it, they would be fishing in it, catching fish big enough to feed the whole town, or so the story goes.  Old Man Peabody lived by the pond and he delighted in having the children come out and enjoy the pond.  But the pond changed after Old Man Peabody died.  No one really knows who became the owner of the pond, but who ever it was began to use the pond as a dump.  Refrigerators and old car tires lay on the pond’s bed.  Broken glass was strewn all along its shore, and the color of the water was a yellowish black, dotted with oil slicks.  And that is why the sigh stood there next to Peabody’s Pond, “No swimming. No Fishing.  No Boating.”

     Actually, there really wasn’t any need to post a sign, at least not for the kids who lived around there, because every parent drilled the message into their children’s mind.  Absolutely – and under no circumstances – were they to go swimming, fishing or boating in Peabody’s Pond.  There was acid in the pond that would burn holes in their skin. There was glass all over the place that would cut them like shark’s teeth.  There chemicals that would fill their bodies full of cancer.  Every parent told their children, “Absolutely – and under no circumstance – were they to go swimming, fishing, or boating in Peabody’s Pond.”

     Betsy and Rosemary were sisters who lived right down the road from Peabody’s Pond.  Living out in the country and only being a year apart in age, they were not only sisters.  They were the closest of friends.  They did everything together.   They played dress up and checkers.  They ran around the house playing hide and seek.  They rode their bides all around the countryside,…… and they had been given the lecture, more than once, “No swimming.  No fishing.  No boating.  In Peabody’s Pond.”

     One day as they were riding their bikes along the country roads they came up to a bend a bend where the trees and the brush hid what might have been coming from the other side.  Maybe they were watching a hawk soaring in the sky, or maybe they saw a butterfly settling on a flower by the roadside – but whatever the case, they weren’t being careful and they forgot to slow down going into the bend.  This time when they turned into the bend they were greeted by a blare of a horn and the screeching of tires as a car tried to stop from hitting them.  But it couldn’t.  Betsy swerved just in time to be missed, but Rosemary did not.  The front bumper of the car tagged her bicycle and sent her flying off the road….flying of the road right into Peabody’s Pond.

     The car stopped.  The driver got out and ran to the edge of the pond, as did Betsy.  From the edge of the pond they could see Rosemary struggling in the water, trying to keep her head above the surface.  “Help!” she cried, “I’m hurt.  I can’t swim.  My foot is caught on something.”

     The driver did not budge.  “I’m not going in there,” said the driver as he stood right under the sign that warned, “No Swimming.  No Fishing.  No Boating.”

     “You girls should have been watching where you were going.  I am NOT going in that pond.”

…….to be continued next week.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 12-12-12

Hello,

     I am returning from vacation on the road, Interstate 74, a four lane road that bisects the state of Illinois.  It is a road that doesn’t take much driving skill to navigate.  Straight.  Smooth. Scantily busy.  The scenery to the north and south of the road is identical; flat, black dirt fields, buzzed like a short cropped haircut, extending as far as one can see.  There’s not much “civilization” along this road (except of course, Champaign/Urbana…the home of the University of Illinois...where civilization blooms like a rose in the wilderness).  It is a road whose arrow straight construction and unchanging scenery might be considered boring by some, but I find it more akin to a quiet room for uninhibited reflection.  So, here’s some Advent reflection:

     This is the season of Advent in our church, a four week stretch leading up to Christmas that bids us to go out in the wilderness, make the roads straight and level in order to clear out the way for Jesus coming (advent means “arriving”) and to clear out our minds for when he arrives.

     If Jesus was the enemy, someone to be feared, we would want him to approach on winding and roller coaster roads so that his approach would be time consuming, difficult to stay on, and easy to ambush.  Is it possible that the devil, who really is the enemy, has so spun and turned, raised and lowed this four week road to sidetrack Jesus and make him an easier target for his arrows?   

     On the other hand if Jesus is the savior, the secret weapon that will destroy everything that attacks us and waits in siege of us, we would want his approach to be as easy as possible and as quick as possible.  “Prepare ye the way of the Lord.  Make his paths straight.”

     And we who travel through life, if the road is full of traffic racing along at 80 miles per hour as it does on the express ways of Chicago….if it is winding and curvy with hair pin turns on mountain inclines as it does on the ridges of Pennsylvania…if it is lined with beautiful and breath taking scenery as it is along the Sky Line drive of the Appalachians … it is easy to get caught up in the journey and forget where we are going.  Might it be that the devil, who is who we really seek to get away from, so fills our lives with traffic, with the treacherous curves of this life, and the delights of this life that he hopes that we forget our destiny and goal?

     On the other hand, if the road we travel is so empty and barren, the scenery so monotonous and unchanging, and it requires no steering at all … then might we find ourselves more anxious for the journey’s end, more thankful for the company of those who travel with us, and more attuned to the one who bids us “come unto me all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”  “Prepare ye the way of the Lord.  Make his paths straight.”

     This week, hear the voice of John the Baptist who invites us to join him in the wilderness with these words, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord.  Make his paths straight.”

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace. (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord
12-3-12

Hello,

     I drive a Mini Cooper.  It was a great car in which to travel the expanses of South Dakota, and it is a great car in which to travel the winding and hilly roads of Western Pennsylvania.  The long and straight roads through the Dakota prairie was optimum terrain for great mileage, and the curly-cue roads around here are an optimum terrain for a lot of fun!

     Over the course of the years that I have driven my Mini Cooper, I have discovered something unique about driving a Mini Cooper: Mini Cooper drivers wave at each other as they come upon one another on the road.  I’ve driven other types of cars, and I can’t say that anyone waved at me through their windshield because we motored in the same kind of car, but it happens to me all the time in my Mini.  Those who have waved at me have been varied.  Some who are young and some who are young at heart.  Some whose stature is akin to the size of the car and some who have squeezed into the car like an undersized shoe.  Women and men.  It’s a varied crowd who sit behind the wheel of a Mini Cooper and wave at each other, a wave of acknowledging the unique bond that we have as Mini Cooper owners.

     If you take a seat in our church on any given Sunday you will find the same sort of thing happening.  There is a varied crowd of people who “wave” to one another as they pass along life’s way because they share a unique bond, the bond of rolling through life as children of God.  In the middle of our service we get out of our seats, walk around and shake one another’s hands saying, “The peace of the Lord be with you.”  Some of the people are known to the shaker and shake, and some are unknown.  Some are people who sit in the same pew every Sunday, and some are people who have taken their seat in a pew for the first time in a long time.  It doesn’t matter who you are, when you come to our church you will receive a peaceful and friendly “wave” from those whose lives are led by the hood ornament of the cross.

     In the day to day grind of traffic where people are more apt to honk in frustration, gesture in anger, and even burst out in rage, I find it refreshing to be the object of a friendly wave simply because of the car that I drive, and in spite of my skill in driving it. So, in the course of your weekly commute through life, let me invite you to come and take a seat in a pew and in spite of the accidents you may have caused this week, in spite of the roadblock your failures that have slowed you down this week, and in spite of the distractions in your life that have gotten in the way of others….come and be refreshed by the peaceful and friendly wave from those who treasure you solely because the unique bond that you share, the cross of Christ.  And who knows….maybe that wave will be just what you need to get back on the road this week with a genuine smile of joy on your face, and a tankful of peace in your heart.

     Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 11-26-12

Hello,

     When my wife and I moved to Pennsylvania a year and a half ago and built a house, we dreamt of the day when our three sons, now spread across the country, would fill it and make it the place where their lives can find an anchor.  That dream came true this Thanksgiving.  From Denver via plane, and New York and Chicago by car my three twenty-some year old sons came “home” for Thanksgiving.  Along with them came a girl friend, a daughter in law, and a dog.

     The house that has calmly rested with just my wife, my dog and me in it came alive with an elevated heartbeat as the floors clicked with heels and paws, the perfectly kept rooms were strewn with clothes as if a tornado had passed through them, and laughter and memories radiated with greater warmth than the roaring fireplace.

     As a pastor who has moved around quite a bit as my kids grew up our family never really had a place that we could call “home”.  Sure, every place that we lived we made of it our home, but we always did so in the shadow of the lurking future of leaving it behind.  But not this time.  We have set down our roots here in the hills of Western Pennsylvania, roots from which a strong trunk will rise up, and from that trunk branches of love will extend as far away as New York, Denver, and Chicago so that even when my kids are not under the roof of this home, they will be under the shade and shelter that reaches out from this place.  This Thanksgiving my kids came home…… our house was full….. and so was my heart.

     I know the joy that swept over my soul to have my kids come “home”, so when I say to you that joy sweeps over the soul of God when his children come home, I speak as a father whose soul has tasted such a joy.  God has built his church on earth to be a place where people can find an anchor for their lives.  Sunday after Sunday he throws a Thanksgiving feast (Eucharist means “thanksgiving”), and he sets his table overflowing with his grace and mercy in hopes that all of his children will come.  

     If you are “home” every Sunday taking your seat at God’s table, know that God never tires of your presence, rather he delights in it.  And if you have been away for a while, don’t let your absence keep you away, for as long as you are not “home”, God’s “house” is a little empty and there is a hallow bubble in God’s heart.

     So, if you are wondering if you should go to church this Sunday, or any Sunday, instead of asking what it will mean to you to go to church, why not ask the more important question, “What will it mean to God?”  What will it mean to God to see his children reaching out to one another in care and concern?  What will it mean to God to see forgiveness being practiced between his children?  What will it mean to God to see smiles and tears carried on the faces of his children as they come to his table?  What will it mean to God to embrace his children more deeply than with a hug as he shares himself with them in Holy Communion.?

     I don’t know for sure what it meant for my kids to come home for Thanksgiving, but I do know what it meant to me.  It meant the world to me.  Likewise, I don’t know what it will mean for you when you come “home” to church on Sunday mornings, but I do know what it means to God.  It means the universe to him.

     This Sunday, and every Sunday, God hopes, and I hope, that you will be “home”.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace,

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 11-18-2005

Hello,

     “I’ll have it a little hotter than that,” I told the waitress after placing an order of “sweet and spicy” chicken wings for my wife who was stuck in traffic and is no fan of heat.

     “Louis?”  she said, having heard my description.

     “Sounds fine,” I said back to her.

     When the waitress brought out our two orders of chicken wings, I looked at my wife’s order that looked like it had been coated with a dark maple syrup…it looked good!  Then I looked at my “little hotter than that” order that was a covered with a bright orangish, redish sauce.  The mere sight of it felt hot.

     Still caught in traffic, my wife called me and told me to go ahead and eat.  I took a careful gaze at my plate to find the chicken wing with the most meat, and I picked it up.  It was heavily sauced, so my fingers were immediately covered in orangish, redish heat.  I brought the wing to my lips, which also took on the orange, red sauce, and bit into the meat.  Instantly my lips and tongue caught on fire.  No matter how much I licked my lips with my tongue, the sting persisted.  I wondered, “If this is a ‘little hotter than that’, what would a ‘lot hotter than that’ be like?  Four or five more bites of liquid fire, and I had the first wing consumed.  The problem was that there was 11 more waiting for me in that basket filled with the sauce.

     Having survived the first one, I figured I should give a second wing a try.  Not a good idea.  My burning lips and tongue took on a heat that could set metal on fire.

     The problem was that I am a bit of a tight-wad, so I wasn’t about to let even one of these wings to go waste.  The other problem was that after eating these two wings, there were 10 left.  I had  just paid $7.99 for these wings, and I wasn’t about to leave some hot wings uneaten.  I wasn’t about to leave even a cent’s worth of chicken wings on my plate.  So, with $7.99 invested in these wings, I decided that I was going to eat them all, every one of them.  And I did. 

     I had paid for them….and I wasn’t going to let my payment be in vain.  I ate them all, and when I had finished the sweat was pouring from my scalp, my tongue and lips felt like they were the victims of third degree burns.  I knew that I was going to pay the price of a lava churning stomach for the rest of the night.  When I ordered them, I hadn’t planned on them being so hot…but I had paid for them….and I wasn’t going to let $7.99 go down the drain by leaving even one of them on my plate.

     When I wonder if I am “a little hotter” than Jesus expected…and I probably am….no, I know I am….and I consider the determination to not let my $7.99 be in vain compared to the price that Jesus paid for me….his life, I have hope.  Great hope.  If I will not give up on hot chicken wings because I spent $7.99 on them, I have great hope that Jesus will not give up on “hot chicken wings me” because he spent his life on me.

     And my hope is not just based on my cheap-scape stubbornness.  It is based on what I see, Sunday after Sunday.  Every Sunday, no matter how hot I am, Jesus welcomes me to his table and says…”this is my body, given for you…this is my blood, shed for you.”  And he says the same thing to you.  If you have become a “hot potato”, too hot for the world to touch, come and find out that there is one who is determined to hold on to you and never let you go…Jesus….he paid the price of his life for you, and he is determined to not let the price of his life go down the drain.

     That is hope!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger