Thoughts on Media Day

This may be a total ramble, but I need to just say something that has me with my BP elevated. Yesterday was media day at the Super Bowl. I know that the actual Bowl is not until Sunday, but the Super Bowl has turned into more than just a game, but a total event. The event or circus begins on Monday when most of the nations media begins to gather and broadcast from the location of that years game. This year, for those of you out of the loop, they are in Arizona.

During Media Day, Plexico Burress was asked about his impressions of the game. His answer included a statement (no I don't have a quote) that basically said, "We're going to win and the score is going to be 23-17.

Well that's all the vultures needed! That has begun a firestorm of discussion as to the reasonableness and validity of the statement, should he have said it, doesn't this just add to the Patriot's desire to win . . .on and on and on and on.

Some say he shouldn't have said it. I say, yes he should! And here is my point.

Don't you think that everyone playing in the final game of the season should be saying the same thing? Don't you want your team to be in the most positive frame of mind possible? Yes - in fact, I think that all of them should be saying the same thing. Its not arrogance, its just being positive. Realistic or not - you need to believe!

Or would you just rather them approach it this way. "Yeah, we're going to go out there and play, but I'm not going to exert myself and get hurt - why try? The Patriots are going to win anyway."

I am unapologetic - I want everyone on my team believing the same thing. When a decision is made - you all fight for the same thing. When you have a goal in mind, a vision that is set - you fight for it, all moving toward the same thing.

Ok - the next time I have a thought on the Super Bowl, it will be about rotating the location.

Measuring Sticks

When I was younger, I remember telling my mother or my grandmother how much I loved them. In order to quantify that love and show them just how much I loved them, I would spread out my hands beyond the normal range of any shoulder and say, “I love you this much.” You can imagine that there was a little bit of grunting as I tried to spread my arms further and further apart. I was trying to measure my love.

Often times throughout my children’s lives, they will come up to me with a tape measure and ask, ‘How big am I daddy?” I don’t think it is the number that counts, just the measurement of length that is expressed by putting the end of the tap on the floor and stretching it to the top of their head. Seeing is believing for them when you simply say, “this many,” as you point to the spot on the tape. Children are fascinated by measurement.

Of course, there is always the proverbial “are we there yet?” or “when will we be there?” that begins at the very second you leave the driveway.

I could annoy you all – at least those of you who may know this song – by singing a song from the Broadway production Rent, “Seasons of Love.” It’s a great song that talks about measuring a day, a month, a year. 525,600 is the number of minutes in a year, but the question that is asked in the song is “how do you measure a year in a life.” If I could, I would add audio here, but believe me you would not stop singing it. I think I’ve ruined my night already.

But I’ve been thinking a lot about this issue of measurement a lot recently. I’ve talked about it in conversations in meetings with colleagues and even within the church. What is it that we are doing, and how is that measured in the church? Are we making an impact? Is what we are doing, what we should be doing? Sometimes we use the vision that is expressed as a way of measuring what we are doing. But I’ve been thinking about it even more – pressing the point. How do you measure what you have envisioned?

James Moore tells a story about measurement and our Sunday School Class read it this past weekend. In the story he is talking about a measuring stick.

Some years ago, there was a great professor at Centenary College named Dean Smith. Dean Smith was a saintly man, a brilliant scholar, an outstanding communicator, and a real friend to the students. In one of his famous lectures, Dean Smith talked to the students about how we discover truth and how we determine what is true and false.

After some discussion, Dean Smith suddenly asked the students this question: “how wide is my desk?” The students looked at the large desk and then made their best guesses. A variety of answers range out, “72 inches,” “looks like 75 to me,” “No, 68 inches.” Then Dean Smith said, “These are all pretty good guesses, but how do we figure out which one is most nearly true and accurate?” There was silence in the classroom for a moment, and then tentatively someone said, “Get a measuring stick?” “That’s right,” Dean Smith would say, “To determine which answer is closest to the truth, we have to get a measuring stick and measure.”

Then Dean Smith went to the blackboard. He took a piece of chalk, and in silence, he drew the outline of a cross. With that piece of chalk, he traced over and over the sign of the cross, letting it dramatically sink into the hearts and minds of the students. Then, he stood back and pointed to the cross and said, “Ladies and gentleman, there’s your measuring stick! There’s your measuring stick for truth!” (Moore, Rich in Things that Count the Most, pp 83-84.)

Regardless of whether it is a compass, a clock, a measuring tape or even a young child’s arms, there has to be something that can measure our actions, our truth, our love, our motives, and our lives. That measuring stick in my impression has to be Christ. Moreover, that measuring stick has to be used daily or we will veer off course, be steered in the wrong direction, shoot too far or even underestimate what we are doing. There has to be something by which we measure our life.

The Apostle Paul writes quite simply in his first letter of Corinthians, “For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him Crucified.” It was his measuring stick for ministry, preaching, teaching and loving. It was his measuring stick for everything that he did. I hope it can be yours too.

This week in worship, we will begin to prepare ourselves for Lent with Transfiguration Sunday. This is the Sunday immediately preceding the start of Lent. Remember that Ash Wednesday services are next week, we begin our Men’s Breakfasts, and on Sunday February 10th our Theology in Film Series begins. But until then, I look forward to seeing you soon.

Please pray for me, and know that I am praying for you.
Greg

It is . . .snowing!

People say it often, “Greg, you act like a big kid!” My usual response to such a statement is one of gratitude rather than disdain. It is largely true and in my opinion, one that illustrates my personality. I take to heart the admonition from scripture that one must become like a child in order to inherit the kingdom.

Today is one of those days that confirm my child-like spirit. January has been less than exciting in terms of its weather, but today we finally had a prediction of snow. Initially, the reports were less than exciting – maybe less than an inch. But as I drove to work today, it was coming down, and coming down quickly.

There was that child-like inner spirit that was getting really excited. I Love Snow! I have said often that I love snow, mostly because I love all of the seasons. It’s January, and so it should be snowing would be my opinion. I know that it is not a popular opinion, but it’s my opinion and I’m sticking to it.

In my first appointment, we lived in the midst of the northern Snow Belt in Western Pennsylvania. To Pittsburghers, that’s what weather forecasters refer to as “above I-80.” Actually, I think it is misleading to talk about “the” Snow Belt. I like to think that there are several belts, and the severity of the snow in that belt just depends on the weather. We lived about 5 miles out of Titusville, and could get walloped with snow. Drive into Titusville, and there could have been a dusting. Drive 5 miles north of our home, and conditions could be more severe. However, the total opposite could be true in any given snow event.

I remember one year while we lived in Titusville, we had snow everyday for what seemed like 14 days. We had lake affect snow everyday in that period ranging anywhere from 6 to 10 inches. I remember because I shoveled our drive and porch everyday, and sometimes several times a day. Even in that much snow – I loved it.

In addition to shoveling, I would take walks in the woods, take Sarah for rides in the snow, and even sled ride with the children of the church. You now see some childlike behavior emerging.

But in spite of the shoveling and the fun, I think what I like most about the snow is that at this time of year, the snow seems to make everything new again. Snow has the capacity to cover up the dirt and the grime, it makes everything clean again.

There is something to be said for us as humans. We need the snow every so often to cover up and make us clean again. It is a chance to see that there is a better way of living. I don’t know about you, but I much prefer the clean to the dirt.

Lent is coming up, and while I suppose it would have been good to wait until the beginning of Lent to talk about this – it snowed today. It reminded me of a Psalm and prayer of cleansing and pardon. Psalm 51 asks God to wash us clean, wash us thoroughly from our iniquity. And then this is the part that I like, the part that I prayed as I was driving in that new, fresh, driving, snow – Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

This time of year, I imagine that there are a lot of us that feel like we need a fresh start, a clean start. It’s only January 22, and we already feel like we need to be made clean. Take a look at psalm 51 – it’s a good prayer, and a good start. You don’t have to like snow in order to ask for it. Just pray it this day and God will bring that cleansing for you.

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.”
Psalm 51:10.


Please pray for me, and know that I am praying for you.
Greg

The Wonder of It All

Have you ever had one of those days or weeks where things just seem amazing? You look around and wonder how things fit together, or how a child picked up a talent, or even why the weather is what it is? There are times when the body gives us a glimpse of just how wonderful it is, or a moon is particularly beautiful on a starlit night. Have you ever had one of those days?

I probably have them more than I realize, but this past week has been one of those for me. There are several things that caused me to feel that way and in each instance, I was at a loss for words and explanation – but they did cause me to pause and give thanks for wonder and wonderful things.

Last week in the middle of January, our region experienced temperatures that were beyond my own explanation. Some try to explain it, some try to blame it on certain things that we are and aren’t doing. But then I hear that we broke high temperature records that were set back in 1930. I wonder to myself if people were blaming industry or just allowing creation to take its course. I was standing amazed at creation and how God keeps us guessing. Today it’s cold. It just makes me wonder.

Last week I visited some folks in the hospital. And after every explanation as to what could happen and why something was happening, the human body responds with something that defies explanation. I recall my own experience in the hospital and waiting for a human’s best guess. I left the hospital with no answer. I’m not complaining because at the same time they didn’t find anything. No news is good news – but it had me guessing. It also had me standing amazed at the wonder of the human body.

I also got to see a newborn child who at birth weighed less than four pounds. Defying odds and explanations, I heard others describe children who are perfectly healthy, defiant teenagers who were born at less than one pound. I’ve also heard of children who were born much bigger too. I stand amazed at the wonder of new birth.

And yet, I presided at the funeral of a person who lived 96 glorious years. It was not until the last months of her life that she was hospitalized and moved to a care facility. Again, the wonder of a human body. But yet I know how fragile life can be as we see men and women fall in combat; hear of loved ones diagnosed with terminal illnesses; watch as a friend or colleague suffer from a progressive disease. I stand amazed and wonder how, or why – and yet I can still give thanks.

The entire Bible is full of passages that talk of Wonder and Wonderful deeds, but the Psalms are particularly full of them. I came across Psalm 111 and it spoke to me as I stood amazed.

This week, I’m having one of those weeks – I am amazed. And for that, I give thanks. I hope that you can too.

Please pray for me, and know that I am praying for you.

Greg

Tell Me the Stories of Jesus

There is a great hymn that we often sing around Palm Sunday and Easter entitled, “Tell me the stories of Jesus.” The hymn is a particular favorite of mine and it reminds me of children’s parades and waving palm branches.

But for some reason, this morning I caught myself thinking about that song as we approached this coming Sunday. This week is traditionally the Sunday when we read texts relating to Jesus baptism. The Gospel of Matthew recounts the story in the third chapter. While we in the Methodist Church often relate baptism with children, it might be easy for us to miss or temporarily disassociate the fact that Jesus was baptized as an adult.

And that got me thinking. Church time and real time just don’t sync sometimes. It was just days ago when we were talking about Magi and Mangers, gifts and quick get-a-ways to Egypt. And now, just a few days later – Presto Chango – Jesus is a full grown man ready to be thrust into the wilderness and begin his ministry.

I think that’s why I was humming that tune this morning, because I was thinking a lot about some recent discussions about Jesus and his childhood. What did he like to do? Did he know that he was different that other little children running around the villages? Did he ever get disciplined? Did he say please and thank you? There are very few stories that really tell us who Jesus was as a child and what he was like. There is a part of many of us that want to know more of the story. You may feel like a child who is being read a book at bedtime by your parents – don’t try to skip a page.

The Gospels of Mark and John are the two books that begin the story differently – so there’s not a feeling like there is anything missing. But Matthew and Luke give us just a glimpse. But of those two – Luke is my favorite. While it doesn’t give us a year by year recounting – it does give us some rich stories.

J. Ellsworth Kalas notes that one of the clearest understandings of Jesus comes from Luke and that “Jesus was inducted into the faith life of his people from the very beginning of his life. He was the product of a conventionally religious home. When he was a boy of twelve, he made his first great pilgrimage to a religious festival, just as did all Jewish children who were following their faith.” (Christmas from the Back Side, p. 67).

But that still doesn’t tell me if his parents had any trouble getting him to put on his coat this morning even though the forecast was unseasonably warm! (Sorry about that – that was me, not Joseph!)

If you have an opportunity this week – I would invite you to take a look at a rich chapter in Luke. It won’t take you long to read. But reading chapter two of the Gospel will just give you a little more of the story. It is something that I want to hear.

This week in worship, we are going to be hearing a message entitled, “Chosen for Greatness.” We will be focusing on Christ and his purpose – why he came. I look forward to seeing you all this week. I for one am looking forward to some snow – I know that I might be the only one.

Please pray for me, and know that I am praying for you.

Greg