Obedience

I attended a meeting recently where the discussion was on obedience. Most of my colleagues in that meeting were strong on obedience, particularly obedience to the church. I shared with them that obedience is not an easy spiritual discipline for me. Discernment must come before obedience because I need to know that I'm being obedient to the presence of Christ as I understand that. I'm not as trusting of a "system"--even a religious system as my colleagues seem to be. My grandparents were "churched" (1930's) for selling tobacco in their grocery store and my parents were asked (early 1950's) not to bring my mentally handicapped brother to Sunday School because the "church" didn't know what to do with him. I grew up with these 'stories' of church so I'm not so quick to give obedience to the 'church' or any religious system. I have learned that understanding the presence of Christ certainly means hearing what my "community" has said and is saying about a particular behavior, option and/or direction. It seems to me that discernment must involve listening and patience. Listening to those who are not in the "power structure" is absolutely crucial in my thoughts.

I guess obedience is a growing spiritual edge for me. First of all, I'm from Oklahoma--you know the "don't fence me in" attitude. Secondly, somewhere in my Seminary education process, someone said that I have a strong "rebellious child" part that acted out frequently. That's probably true. In the end, I'll probably obey, if I think it is the right thing, but just give me time and don't push. O yes, once I'm "on board," I tend to stay for the long haul.

Fussin',whinin' and complaining

My parents owned a furniture store in Norman, Oklahoma. I grew up having to deal with furniture which was either in the store or on the delivery truck. After school I always had to go down to the store and work for the rest of the day. The store closed at 6 PM unless someone was in the store or coming into the store and then we waited. If I wasn't delivering something, I was either putting something together, sweeping the aisles, dusting, washing the front windows, washing the delivery truck or something. You can learn a lot delivering furniture. For example, I learned not to grab the side of a television where the knobs were placed because that would be the heavy side. I also learned to tie things into the bed of the truck and close the tailgate--you know, finish the job. One time my cousin Steve and I were delivering some roll-away beds and when we took off from a stop light those beds rolled out the back end of the truck and crashed onto Main Street. It was embarrassing to have traffic stopped while we ran around gathering up several roll-away beds and returning them to the truck bed. This time we made certain they were tied down and we had closed the tail gate. I usually delivered with my Dad especially if he needed an extra hand and the delivery could wait until I was out of school. I can remember several times delivering with my Dad when I would be fussing, whining and complaining about something. Dad would listen politely after which he always replied, "Richard, we could have had this in the house in the time you were complaining. Now, if your finished, we still have to carry this furniture into the house."

One Day At A Time

It seems like we're in the nursing home ministry for a few days--well, we hope it is for a few days. My brother, Bobby, who is mentally handicapped, has been five days in the hospital with the flu. A few days before catching the flu, he slipped on some ice and has a small crack in his hip--the same hip he broke several years ago which is now full of metal. So, he doesn't get around very well. He was dismissed from the hospital yesterday but still suffers from nausea, vomiting and diarrhea. He is too weak to get around by himself, and his insides are still "out-of-control." So, he is at our house. We're sleeping lightly; helping him to the bathroom at a moment's notice and usually cleaning him, the floor, etc. Our washing machine and dryer seem to be running constantly. I had planned to use this weekend to get ready for my two classes at the Baptist Seminary of Kentucky, which begins Monday. However, I'm learning again that life is what actually happens, not what you had planned to happen. So, it is as it is. The good news is that we only have to do this one day at a time.
Shalom

A 2011 Resolution

2011 will begin with my involvement in an on-line class with the Lexington Theological Seminary. I will be teaching a course entitled, "Loss and Grief in a Congregational Setting." The class is full with twelve students from several states. I've never taught an on-line class, and it has been a steep learning curve for me and the required technology. The on-line component is far more than I had originally imagined. I'm impressed with what can be done with technology and education. I'm also discovering that I need a lot of tutoring from Ben, a young adult, who can make my old laptop do things that I didn't even know new and powerful laptops could do.

Time magazine's Person of the Year is Marc Zuckerberg. He is a 26-year old, freckle-faced young man who invented Facebook. Fackbook is the means for 550 million people from all over the world to relate with each other via technology. Judy is on Facebook for both of us, and she has connected with old friends from High School as well as keeps in regular communication with a whole host of friends.

Our God-daughter, Elizabeth, is a Ph.D. candidate in mathematics at Southern Illinois University. She is in her mid-20s. Her research is in the field of typology mathematics. This seems to have something to do with at least four dimensions of mathematics. She is becoming competent in a field that is beyond my imagination.

My 2011 resolution is to pay more attention to young adults. They obviously have a great deal to teach an older person such as myself, and I want to learn. Their 'world' is our future. I certainly bring some wisdom, maturity and perspective. However, I want to pay attention to our young adults because I want to stay close to the future.

Christmas and Bethlehem

I've been to Bethlehem several times, even on Christmas day. I've entered the Church of the Nativity and waited in the line to go down into the grotto where it is believed that Jesus was born. In the grotto it is usually quiet except for the clicking of cameras. Many of the visitors reach back into the cave to touch or kiss the silver star which is supposed to be the place where Mary and Joseph laid the Christ child. When I'd leave the grotto there were often several groups singing Christmas carols. It was beautiful as they sang in various languages. When I'd leave the Church of the Nativity into Market Square, I was always surrounded by small boys tugging on my sleeve and blocking the entrance into our tour bus hoping that I would purchase their souvenir postcards.

I'm usually turned off by the large crowds and the commercialization, especially around religious settings. However, I've also wondered if this might not have been what it was really like when Joseph and Mary traveled to Bethlehem. They were there because they had to be "enrolled" along with others who were from that lineage. So, I suspect there were crowds in Bethlehem that first century. So crowded that there was no room in the inn. Wherever there are crowds, there are usually folks who are trying to make a living by selling their various goods. There must have been noisy commercialization in Bethlehem that first century. Maybe it is my romantic images of Christmas and Bethlehem that are unrealistic. The significant issue is not what was happening in Bethlehem back in that first century but, rather, what is happening in my life today.
Shalom

Christmas and the Schwinn bicycle

I don't recall how old I was but it was a wonderful Christmas. My father worked at Kib Warren's in Shawnee, Oklahoma. Kib Warrens was a furniture/hardware store where they sold bicycles and toys during the Christmas season. The store carried Schwinn bicycles. They had a great one on the floor. It had red fenders with leather strips coming out of the handle bar grips. It even had a shock absorber connected to the front wheel. I admired it for a long time and wanted it for Christmas. Dad said that he didn't think Santa Claus could get it in his bag and down our chimney. I now know that our chimney was just a flue for the old Heatorola that sat between the living and dining room and warmed our entire five room house. Christmas that year was messed up anyway because I developed a terrible cold or something. I remember having to stay in bed while covered with a sheet-tent into which was being pumped warm, moist air from the nearby humidifier. I remember being sick enough that Dr. Combs came by the house to visit me and he gave me a shot of something. It was a lousy Christmas. However, on Christmas morning, after Santa Claus had visited, I left my sick bed to discover that Santa had left me that Schwinn bicycle with the red fenders and leather strips coming from the handle bar grips. Talk about a miracle--Santa got that bicycle down our chimney. However, the biggest miracle was that my Dad and Mom let me ride my new bicycle around the block. They made me put on a heavy coat and a sock cap over my pajamas, Momma put something all over my chest and neck that smelled awful and, then, away I went around the block. After a Christmas like that then of course I believe in Santa and parents who know that there are some things in life that are just more important than being sick. Have a Merry Christmas.
Shalom,

The Record Was Stuck

Many years ago, i.e., late 60's, a Physician thought I might have Tuberculosis. I've been reminded of this experience with the local news of a patient in Richmond, KY who has diagnosised with TB. So, the Physician sent me to a state TB hospital in Paris, Kentucky where I was going to be tested. He told me that if they thought I had the disease they would keep me. I was terrified when we drove up to a group of older buildings which were the TB Sanatorium. There were patients around the grounds who looked gaunt and slowly walked with masks covering their face. In the waiting room, I remember there was a Christmas carol playing somewhere and the record was stuck. The same few bars of music played over and over for the long wait we had in the reception room which was covered with slick tiles--walls and floor. The only chairs were cold metal chairs and the magazine rack had a few old and used magazines. I thought I might have to stay and I didn't like the prospects. After a bunch of X-rays, the TB Physician had me to cough and spit in a small bottle. I couldn't cough up anything to spit into the bottle. Much later that day, I was dismissed to go home. I thought I'd been redeemed--you know saved from the eternal judgement. Whatever life lessons may be in that experience, I hope God has a better reception room.

There have been many other times when I wasn't sure what the future might hold. There were decisions to be made, some of those decisions were mine and frequently others were going to make decisions which would effect me significantly. I like having control over decisions that effect my future. Nevertheless, that's what happens in life--someone else's decisions have significant influence on my life. When I have to make those decisions that effect others, I pray that I'm very respectful of them and their thoughts. I want to listen carefully before I make those decisions. When others are making those decisions, I do have some control about how I respond to those decisions, especially about the attitude with which I respond. This isn't easy but it seems very important for my emotional health and for the good of the group.