Coming Back, Remembering the Promise

Today in worship, I heard the prelude, "O Jesus, I Have Promised," and it that took me back to another time--back to Palm Sunday, March 19, 1967--to the day I was confirmed and promised to follow Jesus to the end.  Forty-five years ago, I promised to follow.   I couldn't have anticipated where that promise would lead.  It is an amazing adventure, and I'm not yet at the end.

What I remembered today as I listened to the organ play is that there were other promises spoken long before the one I made at confirmation.  There was a baptismal promise, made in 1956 by my parents and sponsors in a particular local congregation on behalf of the whole church.  Even so, that baptismal promise was not only made by those whose human hands cradled and cared for me from birth--a prior promise was rooted in the grace of God, who has promised to love me, us, and all--no matter what.  "For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God."  (Ephesians 2:8, NRSV)

As I listened to today's melody, I remembered the final verse of that confirmation hymn:

And Jesus thou hast promised to all who follow Thee

That where thou art in glory there shall thy servant be;

And Jesus, I have promised to serve thee to the end;

O give me grace to follow, my Master and my Friend.

Jesus promises to be there to the end . . . and even longer.  We are blessed with communion and community--covenantal connections.  We are not alone.  We are never alone.  All this is a gift!  An amazing gift of God!

Thanks be to God!  The journey continues . . .

Standing on Grandma's Shoulders

I am grateful to God--whom I worship with a clear conscience, as my ancestors did--when I remember you constantly in my prayers night and day.  Recalling your tears, I long to see you so that I may be filled with joy.  I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.  For this reason I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you through the laying on of my hands; for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.  --2 Timothy 1:3-7  (New Revised Standard Version)

To "stand on the shoulders" of the heroes and heroines--the spiritual giants--is a metaphor that speaks to my faith experience.  In the text from Second Timothy, the author reminds his charge of the spiritual giants who reside in his family tree.  Timothy's grandmother Lois and mother Eunice were faith-filled women.  In a new generation, Timothy's "sincere faith" has been handed up to him as a gift.  He is standing on the shoulders of his grandmother and his mother.  In the words of the Preamble of the United Church of Christ's Constitution,  Timothy is accepting "the responsibility of the Church in each generation to make this faith its own."

Today, I remember my maternal grandmother, Ida Caroline (Oberg) Witte.  Born in 1900, she was the eldest of the five children born to Henry and Sophie Oberg.  My grandmother was the one who tutored me in the faith.  She was diligent and dutiful, especially when I arrived at her house late on Friday afternoons, unprepared for Saturday morning's confirmation class.  She took the Evangelical Catechism seriously, and expected that I would do the same.  She was tough, asking those heavy, catechetical questions that I had never considered to be important in my eleven years of living.  On Friday night, I rehearsed the answers and memorized the scriptures.  And, miraculously, on Saturday morning, after hours of Grandma's tireless prompting, I would recite the answers for Rev. A. J. Schneider and my classmates.  Grandma's faith became my own.  Even though I have grown beyond my German Evangelical heritage, the faith that lives in me today is rooted in the memory of that family story.  I am grateful to stand on my grandma's shoulders.

I also know that there is a quality that I have inherited from my grandmother from which I need to be set free.  Grandma was a take-charge, hard-working woman.  She was a martyr who accepted responsibility for some tasks that rightly belonged to others.  She was often heard to say, "Unless I can't do it well enough for you, . . ." and then, she would proceed to take over and get the job done.   Her work was always done well, but sometimes it really wasn't hers to do.  Grandma was not one to delegate responsibility or let others "fail."  In those declining years before her death in 1986, the effects of that take-charge style became evident.  We were lost, adrift, dependent.

The gift of sabbatical time will soon end for me.  As I prepare to return to my ministry as the Conference Minister of the New Hampshire Conference of the United Church of Christ, I remember with gratitude the broad shoulders in the witness of Ida Caroline Witte, my Grandma.  But, I also realize that I need to share responsibly with others, so that they will not--in the end--be dependent upon me, but that together we may be more connected to Christ and to one another.

God of all faithfulness and love, grant that I may find a healthy balance of engagement and disengagement in the service to which you summon me.  May I grow deeper in that sincere faith that leads to "a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline."  May my ministry be your ministry, enlivening and lifting one another up in love.  Prepare my shoulders that others may stand on them.  And, may I ever commit myself and those dear to me to your never-failing love, in this life and in the life that comes.  Amen.

"Breaker 19" - The Courage to Speak

The year was 1976.  I was driving my first car, a 1969 Chrysler Newport, at college.  A friend had sold me his used CB radio.  I remember my "handle" and the FCC license number assigned to that radio, KBP-3444.  While that old radio worked perfectly it had a problem:  an operator who never found his voice.  If you were traveling that same geography, you would have never known that I was out there too.  I listened to the chatter of others as I traveled the thirty miles to the United Methodist Church where I served as student pastor.  There were places in that thirty-mile trip where the signal faded and skipped, but that old radio kept me company on many a dark, winter night, but I never contributed to the conversation and never kept others company.

Today, I think about our discipleship--about following Jesus, which requires both listening and speaking.  How many times have I remained silent in the face of another's injustice?  How many times have I preached sermons that  avoided the weightier issues of the world around me?  How many times did I fail to join a conversation that might have carried others along?  Well, I know that such silence is not limited just to me.  I know a lot of other preachers and whole congregations that are silent about the attitudes and actions that demean and destroy others.  We don't hear much about war or economic justice or global warming coming from either our pulpits or our pews.  Have I found my voice?

I think of Jesus, the Word en-fleshed.  He spoke up for those who were despised and rejected.  He included them in his movement for life.  He shared their cries, their afflictions, and their sorrows.  He spoke up when it would have been far safer to have remained silent.  Among his teachings, Jesus proclaimed, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God."  True peacemaking involves the words we speak, as well as the deeds of love and mercy that we are inspired to do in Jesus' name.

O God, open our lips, that we may declare your praise!
O God, open our lips, that we may proclaim your truth and love for the world!
O God, open our lips, that we may accompany your children in the journey toward peace and life!
May it be so!

To Those Who Have Been Given Much . . .

"From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded."  --Luke 12:48 (NRSV)

Did you see the little article in the August 22 edition of The Concord Monitor?  It says that New Hampshire residents gave 2.5 percent of income to charitable causes in 2008.  This puts us at the bottom of all the states.  We ranked 51 out of the 50 states plus the District of Columbia.  We might take some consolation in the fact that Maine (50), Vermont (49), and Massachusetts (48), were in the same sorry boat.  But we were at the bottom.

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, New Hampshire ranked 7th in median household income in 2008.  There are, of course, higher and lower salaries here, but the fact is that we are not a poor people.  In the faith community, we believe it is God who provides for us in abundance.  We have been given much.

I wonder if those who were gathered in our Congregational churches in New Hampshire could have started and sustained those congregations by giving 2.5 percent.  I have a hunch that they had to give more of their income, their goods, and themselves.  There was a sacrifice in their service.  Much was required.

Is it any wonder that many of our congregations struggle so to "survive" now?  We no longer pray to "thrive" in our mission.  We settle, if we can, simply for survival.  Maintaining aging church buildings, paying a living wage for clergy salaries and benefits, and the increasing cost of utilities - all create anxiety and leave us diminished.

So what does following Jesus mean for us?  For our communities of ministry and mission--our churches?  For our wider church covenant, i.e. the United Church of Christ? 

What is required of me?

O God of generous faith, hope, and love,
with gratitude for the great gift that has been entrusted to me,
so open my heart and hands (and checkbook) that I may give.
Amen.