Bungee Cord 10-9-17

Hello,

     We still have 5 chickens…. but barely.

     I came back from the store a couple of days ago, and so as I went to the side door my hands were full.  As usual, on the other side of the door my two dogs were anxiously and excitedly waiting for me.   But not as usual, when I opened the door, instead of jumping on me and assaulting me with gladness, McMahon darted out the door and down the steps…..trouble!  Trouble because our chickens were out of their coop dining on bugs and worms, and I knew that McMahon had dashed out the door with dining on his mind, too.  Chickens!

     I yelled at him to come back as he dashed out the door.  My yells were wasted breath.  Unfortunately, since I had left the door open as I was trying to retrieve McMahon, my other dog, Duncan, seized the moment to escape too, with dining likewise on his mind.  I quickly put my shopping stuff down and ran down the stairs in hot pursuit of the escapees.  Before I got to the bottom of the stairs I heard wild chicken squawking coming from the front of the house.  I continued my yelling, trying a variety of commands…”Come!”….”Stop!”… “Woah!  ….”Duncan!”…. “McMahon!”.  All wasted breath as they tore around to the back of the house in hot blooded pursuit of the chickens who were making it known that they were being attacked by their cries of distress.

     When I got around to the back of the house I saw the commotion that I had heard.  Chickens taking to flight, dogs leaping to snag them, and feathers flying everywhere.  Unfortunately for one chased chicken, Duncan, the true hunter of the two, snapped down on the chicken before it could resume flight.  I increased the intensity of my yelling as I ran toward the capture, but instinct had well overwhelmed any obedience by this time, and he began to gnaw on the chicken at took to filing his mouth with feathers.

     That is when I arrived at the scene of the crime, and grabbed Duncan by the nape of the neck and McMahon, who had joined in, too.  I must have caught them between gnaws, because as I pulled them off the chicken, the chicken dropped to the ground…flapping its wings in desperate hopes of escape.  But not for long, because the grip that I had on my dogs slipped and off they were to finish the job.  Around the corner by my hot tub they went.  Dogs drooling.  Chicken squawking.  This time, however, I got there before they could latch onto the chicken who was cornered behind a plant stand.  The chicken was motionless as I dragged the dogs away and took them inside…Duncan, his mouth full of feathers.

     I went back to see if the chicken had met its maker or not, and I found it where I had left it….motionless.  I picked it up.  It was alive.  I set it on the ground……it moved.  Phew!

     I left the chicken and went inside to scold my dogs for doing what came natural to them, which seems a bit of a foolish thing to do.  When I got to the door, they greeted me with hopes of going back outside….Duncan still with feathers in his mouth.  I let them know that their hopes were ill conceived, trying to catch my breath from the chase I had just undertook.

     A few minutes later, the door opened and Kate walked in.  She had returned from running an errand.  “We just about lost a chicken,” I said with frustration oozing from my voice, recounting the event that she had just missed being part of.

     She could tell that I was a bit disconcerted, and so she said to me, “Are you alright?”

     “It is just frustrating trying to keep those chickens alive,” I said, given the fact that we live with two bird dogs whose greatest desire in life is to hunt them down.  There are days…many of them…when it would just be a lot easier to be chicken free.

     But alas…we still have 5 chickens.

     Given my frustration with trying to keep these chickens alive, I have come to a greater appreciation of the depth of God’s love for me.  For I am certain that in the greater scope of things, it would be a lot easier on God for God to be free of me.  It sure must be very frustrating keeping me alive, physically and spiritually.  I wander into trouble.  I am the object of hungry prey.  My ability to escape snapping jaws is limited.  It would certainly be a lot easier on God to be free of me…but God so loves me that he has done what I would never do for our pesky chickens.  He died to make me his forever….forever!  It would be far easier for God to be free of me, but God won’t let that happen.  God is stuck with me….well, although it may seem from my perspective that God is stuck with me…. apparently not from God’s.  From God’s perspective….amazing as it is…God is thankful to have me….and you, too.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

The Bungee Cord  10-3-17

Hello,

     As many of you know, I live in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, the Laurel Highlands.  Our home is perched on a hill between two ridges, Laurel Ridge to the east and Chestnut Ridge to the west.  Laurel Ridge rises to about 2700 ft.  Chestnut Ridge is somewhat lower.

     Of all the times of the year, October is the time that I most enjoy where I live.  The rolling hills that were summer covered with the soft, fluffy, green deciduous maples, oaks, locus, sassafras…just to name a few….. take on a patchwork of quilted color.  Rusty red.  Dazzling yellow.  Brilliant orange.  It is beautiful. 

     Some say that such beauty confirms their belief in God, however not so for me.  As beautiful as the October hills are, I know that their beauty is short lived.  Soon the hills will be replete with nothing but barren trunks and limbs.  It is true that some may say, and I am one of them, that there is a stark beauty to the winter hills.  But there are some stark things in nature that I don’t think any one finds beautiful:  hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, killing storms.  The problem that I find in using nature to confirm and understand God is that nature delivers a capricious, unsettled, and heartless God.  A God who will provide great joy one minute, and then the next minute slash that joy into fear, seemingly without blinking an eye.

     For me, what confirms and gives me understanding of God is not the passing beauty of nature.  It is the ugly, horrifying, excruciatingly painful Calvary cross that has laid its scar upon every moment of time.  That cross does not waver in its message and meaning.  That cross is the evidence upon which my belief is nailed, and my understanding of God is enfleshed.  There is no fickleness to such a God who enthroned himself on the most terrifying and grotesque sights of human nature and overwhelming it with conquering love.  Of course, I cannot categorically say that the cross proves God’s existence in the universe, but as with things as universally important as love, there are some things that one comes to believe with all of one’s heart as one abides in those things.  The cross is not a beautiful field picked daisy whose plucked petals oscillate with the wondering words, “He loves me.  He loves me not.”  The cross stands petal-less in time’s field saying one, and only one thing, “I love you.”

     Just as many, including me, travel to take in the beautiful sights of nature, sights that are breath taking in wonder and splendor, I, along with many, travel every Sunday to church to cast my eyes upon that instrument of death out of which flows the breath of life.  To refrain from making this weekly trip can entrap me in fleeting hopes, passing peace, and balloon pop-able joy.

     So, let me offer my invitation to all of you to come and visit me in October (not all at once, please) so that you can see how lovely this world can be.  Let me also offer to all of you God’s invitation to spend time in God’s house so that you can see just how much God loves you and how much you can trust (believe) in that love.

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger

Bungee Cord 9-26-17

Hello,

     Just got back from my niece’s wedding that took place in Avon, Colorado.  Elevation: 8500 ft.  I was there not only as an uncle, but also a pastor, and so I presided at the wedding.  It was a wonderful event.  However, after the service, during the reception, I discovered something that I had not known before.  It is hard to dance when the air is thin.

     The air is thin….very thin…at 8500 ft., nevertheless as the reception was coming to a close and I had grabbed a seat, having danced several dances with my wife, I heard the introduction to a song that magnetically pulled me back onto the floor.  “Shut Up And Dance With Me!”  That was the song….a peppy song with a fun beat….and the chorus belting out an invitation that I could not resist.  So, my wife and I leapt (well, maybe slogged) onto the dance floor and showed everyone there how to do it.  Now, I may not quite be ready for dancing with the stars (I fail on two accounts: I am not that good of a dancer, and I am not a star.), but I have been known to be able to trip the light fantastic and keep “Stayin’ Alive”.  But it wasn’t too far along in the song that I could feel my legs getting a bit wobbly, and my breathing getting labored.  Not to be shown up by the younger and fitter there, we kept on dancing, but when the song was over we slogged (definitely not leapt) back to our seats, and I leaned over and said to my wife, “This altitude really saps the strength out of me.”  She nodded.

     It is hard to dance when the air is thin.

     How thin is the air that the world gives us to breath?  How full of hope is the air that comes with the promise of a friend, “You can count on me.”  How full of peace is the air that comes with the brandishing of guns and bombs?  How full of joy is the vows at a wedding, “I will”.

     It is not that these things are not in the air that the world gives us to breath: hope, peace, and joy.  It is just that the fullness of each of them is measured, not full.  Friends move.  War happens.  Spouses pass away.  The air that the world gives us to breath is thin, sometimes making it hard to dance.  Sometimes making it impossible to dance.

     But when I hear the Word of God say, “I will never leave you or forsake you,” (Hebrews 13:5) or “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38), I feel strength and power pulse through my body to dance that only comes with thick air.  And I can feel my feet start to shuffle to know that God will not ever move away from me.  I can feel my shoes start to electrically slide to know that I am lead by the one who knows where the still waters and green pastures are and peacefully leads me there.  And I can feel my arms raise and gyrate to know that nothing….NOTHING….can separate me from God’s love in Jesus Christ.    Thick air!  Thick air filling my lungs.  Filling my life.  Giving me strength to dance….and keep on dancing!

     When I was a kid there was a simple “contemporary” song that we would sometimes sing in church, “Lord of the Dance.”  The chorus sang,

“Dance then wherever you may be.

I am the Lord of the dance said he.

And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be

And I’ll lead you all in the dance said he.”

     Take in a deep breath of the divinely thick air that God gives us to breath, and see if you don’t find yourself surging with power to dance!

Have a great week.

God’s grace and peace, (ggap)

Pastor Jerry Nuernberger