From the Pastor’s Heart

Like so many of you, I have been following closely the David Goldman custody battle. I can’t imagine the heart-wrenching ache of losing custody of one’s child. The boy’s mother, Bruna Bianchi, took Sean (then 4 years of age) to her native Brazil in 2004, divorced Goldman and remarried. Goldman began legal efforts to get his son back.

After Bianchi died last year in childbirth, her husband Paulo Lins e Silva, continued the legal fight and won temporary custody.

The last several months, each time David Goldman was able to embrace hope that he would be reunited with his son, that hope was met with devastating disappointment when yet another court ruling prevented the father and son reunion.

Finally, a ruling last week by the chief justice of the Brazilian Supreme Court finally cleared the way for the boy’s return on Christmas Eve. David and his son Sean were finally reunited. After five long agonizing years, Sean and his dad began a new journey… a journey home.

A recent report stated: “A man who brought his son home to the United States from Brazil after winning a bitter custody battle said in an interview aired Monday that he’s thrilled they have been reunited but is still waiting to be called ‘Dad.’” “I said, ‘You can call me Dad,’” David Goldman said on NBC’s “Today” show. “And he didn’t say anything.”

And so David Goldman rejoices in their reunion but patiently waits for healing and for his son to embrace their relationship so that he will once again call him “Dad.”

This is the time of year when we again meet up with the Magi. They too are on a journey. The story of the Magi is astonishing. Magi living hundreds of miles from Israel leave their families and the comforts of home to chase the mere possibility of encountering the long-awaited King of the Jews.

The Magi offer a model for life. When they were confronted with the opportunity to connect authentically with God and experience true life, they left all that was familiar for a journey into the unknown. The Magi are not content to experience Jesus from afar. They want to experience him personally. That encounter… that experience changed their lives forever.

As we approach 2010, I wonder about God’s agonizing wait for His children to return home and call him Abba (Daddy). There is no judge or court prohibiting our rightful custody with our eternal father. We are our own stumbling blocks in returning to our rightful home.

It is not enough to experience Jesus from afar. How long will God the Father have His hopes dashed and experience disappointment after disappointment because His children refuse to come home and embrace the relationship that God offers each of us in becoming part of God’s family?

Give thanks if you call God “Abba”. But if you are still only curious from afar, the New Year is a great time to come home! There will be no court ruling ordering you home. There is however, the Father’s outstretched open arms and loving invitation. And He waits for your response. He longingly waits to hear you say, “I want to come home ‘Abba!’ I want to come home.” This morning I heard David Goldman say with tears of rejoicing: “He is home, he is home.”

I can imagine every time one of God’s children comes home, God rejoices with the same exclamation… “He is home! She is home!”

Won’t you come home?

Peace and Blessings for the New Year,
Pastor Russel

With Grateful Hearts…

We have been showered with blessings by the outpouring of your expressions of love this Christmas season. Thank you for the generous gifts from our Church family and the many other expressions of love. Nancy and Pastor Russel

Last week Nancy and I spent a few days with our daughter Amy and her family. It is always a blessing to spend time with our children and grandchildren. Mac, our soon to be two-year-old grandson has discovered the world of “bugs”. On one of our many walks we saw a rather large night crawler. We spent several minutes examining and watching this worm inch its way across the road. On another walk we encountered a grasshopper. Mac’s squeals of joy were delightful. He sat on the pavement closely eyeing the “bug”. He watched his every move. As Mac observed this fascinating bug he would slowly move a little closer to get a better look until the grasshopper would jump and Mac would squeal again and move away. This went on for several minutes. He wanted to be brave and touch the insect as he moved his little hand ever so carefully closer to the grasshopper. He wasn’t quite sure what would happen and couldn’t bring himself to actually touch the “bug”. His curiosity and fascination were overflowing but he always maintained a safe distance from this mysterious little creature.

We find ourselves stepping into the Advent and Christmas seasons. We begin our journey to Bethlehem to the stable that we might once again peer into the manger at the Christ Child. Like my grandson, our fascination, enthusiasm, joy and curiosity are overflowing this time of year. Something wonderfully mysterious has happened in Bethlehem. And we want to be part of excitement. We want to join the choirs of angels and sing of that holy night. Sadly, however, too many do not move beyond their curiosity and fascination when it comes to the babe in the stable. We find that we would much rather keep a safe distance between the Christ Child and us.

My grandson did not know what would happen if he touched that grasshopper. But we know… we know that the Son of God not only brings love, compassion, and forgiveness; this tiny little baby grows up and says: “If anyone would come after me, deny yourself and take up your cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” We know that if we get too close to this tiny little baby we are called to move beyond fascination and curiosity and embrace the Son of God. We are called to complete commitment in our discipleship. I invite you to journey with me once again as we follow the star to the place where we will look upon the face of God. I invite you to come with your enthusiasm, joy, curiosity and fascination as we celebrate. And then as God calls you to be a faithful servant you are invited to move beyond curiosity and fascination and embrace this holy child as you give yourself completely, for we need not fear the one who is called Emmanuel, the Savior of the world.

Christmas Peace and Blessings,

Pastor Russel

Many of us find grief a long and difficult journey. We wonder if we will ever laugh again and truly mean it. We wonder if we will ever dance again with joyful enthusiasm. We begin to wonder if all of our remaining days will be clouded with sorrow. We wonder….

I recently read the following story about a grief support group.

“The first session of the grief support group was gut-wrenching. One by one, the broken, lost grieving people shared their stories. Each person’s life had moved from normal to shattered, because of cancer, car accidents, heart attacks, or other tragedies that robbed them of their loved one. Raw emotion and buckets of tears accompanied story after story about how those real life losses manifested themselves in daily life.

One woman shared, ‘Last night I dreamed the doorbell rang and when I opened the door, my husband was standing there. He was no longer thin and sick from cancer. He was no longer bald from chemotherapy. He was healthy and strong like he used to be. When I woke up, I realized that I’ve only been grieving so far for the loss of my sickly husband and haven’t even begun to grieve over the loss of my strong, healthy husband.’

Another group member tentatively shared that he had spent the night, more than once, lying on his wife’s grave because ‘it is the only place I can feel close to her.’

One woman lamented the sheer terror at the idea of facing the holidays alone.

The room was filled with deep, real grief. It was tearing people apart. One member of the group asked, ‘Will we ever feel differently? How will we ever come out of this?’ As the facilitator, I knew it was important that my response paint a picture of hope. ‘I know it is hard to imagine, but I believe the day will come when you will smile again….when you will be able to enjoy life,’ I said gently, finding it a little hard to imagine myself.

After working closely with these people for about a year, I moved to another city. Years later, I returned to the town for a speaking engagement. Just before I was to speak, I was surprised to see many of the members of the grief group, seated on the front row.

Later, when I greeted them, some told me of new relationships in their lives, new jobs, and traveling adventures. I asked if they still met together as a group and they laughed, ‘You won’t believe this, but we only meet now to go line dancing.’

A line dancing grief group…who would have thought? But when God shows up, healing happens, hope springs forth, and new life emerges.”

Sunday, November 1 we will celebrate All Saint’s Sunday. It will be a day when we remember loved ones who have died in the last year. Yes, there will be tears and raw grief. There will be those who will wonder if it will ever get any better. We will share our grief and we will remember. We will remember our loved ones.

We will also rejoice because we will also remember that we are not alone in our troubles. We are not alone in our losses, our grief, and our heartache. God is with us.

We will celebrate the risen Christ who whispers in the darkness: ‘Didn’t I tell you, you would see the glory of God? Didn’t I tell you this is not over yet? Didn’t I tell you God will wipe away every tear?’

We no longer have to wonder because when God shows up (and God always shows up) even grief groups will line dance one day.

I pray you will show up this All Saint’s Sunday because God is going to show up and remind each of us that we will dance again.

Thanks be to God!

Pastor Russel

Have you ever been curious about something? Every morning when I am walking Louie I pass a vacant house on the corner of Blackburn and Centennial. It has been vacant for over three years (since my arrival to Sewickley) and perhaps much longer. I have watched the vines grow up over the front door and the wicker chair on the porch crumble. There are wax Christmas candles in the window. The curtains are looking dingy. On what appears to be the dinning room table is a flower arrangement that long ago dried up and in the middle of that arrangement is a flower pick with a little card. I am curious. I wonder about the owner’s story. Why has the house remained untouched all of these years? Did the person who lived there receive an arrangement of flowers when he or she was sick? Did the owner of the home die? Did he/she have to make other living arrangements?

People’s stories are interesting. Our stories help define who and what we are. During the interviewing process for a custodian we interviewed a gentleman who had listed on his resume that he had worked on a track gang. I could relate. I too worked as a laborer on a track gang. We were able to connect and share our stories.

Some on our committee were surprised to learn of my “track gang” experiences. One even said, “Pastor Russel, I can’t even imagine you working at a job where you would get your hands dirty!” Often times our stories may seem unimaginable. But they are a part of our fabric woven into our very being.

We all have our stories to share. In our individual families we tell our stories again and again. Telling our stories is one way of remembering our loved ones and keeping them close. Telling our stories makes us “family.”

God’s house should be a safe place where we can come together to share our stories as a family. Some stories we eagerly celebrate. There are other stories that give birth to pain and grief. Often times sharing these stories brings healing. Sometimes we are surprised to learn that we share a common bond because our stories are so similar.

We come to God’s house to hear God’s story, a story that includes you and me. It is a story that binds us together as brothers and sisters in Christ. It is a love story that continues in God’s love. God continually reminds us that His love story, our love story, always ends with… “and they lived happily ever after!”

I pray you will come and be a part of the greatest story ever told or lived. May your story be blessed.

Blessings,

Pastor Russel

As many of you know, I am a second career pastor. Prior to experiencing the call to ministry I worked for ten years at the Carbon Limestone Plant where my father, brother and many of my uncles worked.

During that tenure I found myself needing additional employment because of lay offs or the company went on strike. I found employment at a small convenience store and I also cleaned a doctor’s office.

One of the worst jobs, in my opinion, was working retail. One Christmas season when the limestone plant was on strike I found work at a Straus’ Department store downtown Youngstown, Ohio. Christmas, a time of joy and good cheer, except for many exasperated shoppers. I encountered some awfully rude people during that holiday season.

Browsing customers would come and go. I would politely ask, “May I help you?’ And often the response was, “I am just looking.”

Just looking! What it mostly means is; “Go away, I have no intention of buying anything here.” No intent on buying, just messing up the shirts and sweaters I just straightened up minutes before for the one-hundredth time.

We have all done it, gone into a store…just looking. We touch and pick up the clothing with no intentions of buying. Sometimes we go ‘just looking’ because we are bored. We cruise the malls looking in one shop after another. Sometimes we go ‘just looking’ to sneak a peak at all those things that are out of our reach. Have you ever pretended to be studying photos of yachts for sale down at the marina? Have you ever walked through the showroom of a Porsche dealership, checking out the latest models you won’t be buying? Or maybe you prefer trying on a few diamonds and rubies, just to see how they look on your finger? Sorry, Just looking!

Some people spend their entire lives, ‘just looking’. It is difficult for some to invest their energies, emotions or economic security in anything because of the risks involved. People who are ‘just looking’ drift in and out of jobs without ever finding a vocation, they drift in and out of relationships without ever daring to love and they drift in and out of the church without ever opening their hearts to the Spirit of God or feeling the pulse of Christ’s body.

This past Sunday, little three-year-old Delaney Bollman touched my heart. She and her sister Sarah and their parents, Tonya and Joe were greeters. Delaney was taking her job quite seriously when she proudly and intentionally stuck her hand out to greet me. As I shook her hand she looked at me and said, “Hey, you’re not God!” I assured her that she was correct. Her father Joe explained, “Delaney has been looking for God ever since she and her sister were downstairs in the church and Delaney was afraid and Sarah reassured her that she need not be afraid because God was there.” Sarah is such a wise older sister! Joe said, “Ever since that incident, Delaney has been looking for God in the church.”

Delaney is quite serious in her quest. I know as she grows and matures she is going to find God in amazing ways because God has found Delaney as God finds each of us.

Delaney’s search made me pause and give thought to all who pass through the church doors. I wonder how many are on a sincere quest to find God or how many are just browsing? I wonder when they do find God and God offers an opportunity to be a disciple will they think the cost is too great and say, “No, thanks, just looking!”

As we enter this new season in the life of the church it is a wonderful opportunity for each of us to renew our commitment to find God in new and amazing ways. It is a great time to commit to the morning or evening Bible Study, to be an active student in Christian education, commit to weekly worship, serve on a committee, and become a member of the ministry of music program. The church provides a variety of opportunities to discover God or are we just browsing?

Blessings,

Pastor Russel

There are some wonderfully witty observations in David Heller’s delightful little book; Dear God: Children’s Letters to God. I would like to share a few examples.

• Dear God, what do you think about all those movies made about you around Easter time? I think they’re kind of corny, myself. Your buddy, Charles. (Age 9)
• Dear God, what do you do with families that don’t have much faith? There’s a family on the next block like that. I don’t want to get them in trouble, so I can’t say who. See you in church! Alexis (age 10)
• Dear God, want to hear a joke? What is read, very long, and you hear it right before you go to sleep? Give up? A sermon. Your friend, Frank. (Age 11)
• Dear God, I have doubts about you sometimes. Sometimes, I really believe. Like when I was four and I hurt my arm and you healed it up fast. But my question is, if you could do this why don’t you stop all the bad in the world? Like war…like diseases…like famine…like drugs. And there are other problems in other people’s neighborhoods too. I’ll try to believe more. (Ian, age 10)

There are those days when the sun is shining and life is good, very good! Life overflows with God’s blessings. There is joy and laughter, celebrations and victories, dancing and singing. God is very real and our faith is strong. But when the storm clouds roll in and our lives are turned upside down and we find ourselves like little Ian full of questions and struggling to believe more.

I once read a book to a classroom of students about the pain of losing a friend. The story is written in the first person. It is the story of young Jamie, who tells the story of his feelings when confronted with the death of his best friend in the whole world.

Jamie and Billy were neighbors and inseparable. Billy was always the town and class clown. So on this day when the boys were picking bugs from a bush and Billy was stung by a bee and began to roll on the ground; Jamie thought it was just Billy carrying on again.

Billy was not clowning around. He was allergic to bee stings and he died. Jamie was left to go on living without his best friend. He didn’t know how to do that.

Jamie wanted no part of acknowledging his friend’s death. The night his parents were going to the funeral home Jamie decided he was not going with them. But at the last minute as they were going out the door he yelled for them to wait for him.

Jamie could not believe what he was hearing as people passed by Billy’s casket: “He looks so sweet, just like he is sleeping.” Jamie was furious. He thought to himself: “He’s dead, he will never open his eyes again. How can they say such things?” Jamie ran from the funeral home.

That night he went home and immediately went to bed. As was their routine, his mother came up to his room, tucked him in and kissed him on the forehead. As soon as she left the room Jamie jumped out of bed and gazed out the window. He looked down and saw his flashlight. He thought Billy’s flashlight must be lying on his window sill. At night they would flash codes back and forth. He looked over at Billy’s room and his room was dark. Jamie thought and thought; “Why did he have to die? Why did he have to die?”

He heard his mother coming up the stairs and ran back to bed and pretended to be asleep. She kissed him once again and left. She no sooner left the room and Jamie had wished he had not pretended to be asleep.

He got up and looked out the window again. He saw his mother walking across the yard to Billy’s house. She was going to visit Billy’s mom and try to comfort her. How he wished she had stayed. He knew Billy’s mom needed her but he needed her too. He thought; “If only she would come back and hold me like she did when I was a baby.”

He was afraid and confused. He wondered if it was wrong to want to be held. He needed to be cuddled and loved. He needed to be reassured that he was going to be okay. He needed to feel safe.

He crawled back to bed and wished his mother were there. Then he heard footsteps again. It was his father. He came into the room, picked Jamie up as though he were a baby and squeezed tight and cuddled him. He never thought of his father, but, why not?

There is much joy in life but we also know there is much pain, as well. I know it from personal experience and I know it as a Pastor. Pain and grief are often shared. But I also know there are many deep hurts, wounds and scars that we often keep to ourselves. In both cases we need healing.

What do we do when we are walking in Ian’s shoes and have so many unanswered questions? What do we do when we find ourselves like Billy, wanting to be held and reassured of a safe place and that life will be okay? Where do we turn?

Like Billy, we often overlook the obvious. Why not the father…our heavenly Father?
Our Heavenly Father through his Son, says to each of us; “Come unto me all who labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.” The Apostle Paul in Romans reminds us: “What then shall we say to this? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, will he not also give us all things with him? Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, 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 form the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

I invite you to bring your joys as well as your hurts to worship where you will find your church family and Pastor waiting and willing to celebrate with you or to hold you and care for you. Regardless of our age, we can come to the altar of God where we will find our Heavenly Father eagerly waiting to hold us in His arms, reassuring us that in His love everything will be more than okay.

Blessings,

Pastor Russel

I recently ran across this amusing story.

One day Herman and Mary were riding along in their shiny new car. Mary spoke up and said, “You know Herman; if it weren’t for my money we probably wouldn’t have this wonderful new car.” Herman just sat there and didn’t say anything at all.

As they pulled into the driveway Herman turned off the motor and they quietly admired their new home. Then Mary said, “You know Herman; if it weren’t for my money we probably wouldn’t have this new house.” And again, Herman just sat there and didn’t say anything.

They got out of the car and walked in just as the deliverymen finished setting up their new furniture. “You know Herman,” said Mary once more, “if it weren’t for my money we probably wouldn’t have this new carpet and all this new furniture.” And once more, Herman didn’t say a word.

It happened again as they sat down in their new den and propped up their feet and watched the big screen TV located on their new entertainment center. “You know Herman,” said Mary, “if it were not for my money we probably wouldn’t have this huge entertainment center.”

And with that poor Herman had enough. He turned to Mary and said, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Honey, but you know if it weren’t for your money I probably wouldn’t be here either!”

Often there are motivating factors behind our actions. And often those factors include: What’s in it for me!” This was certainly the case for Herman.

The next time you find yourself sitting in worship I invite you to ask yourself that very poignant question: Why am I here?

People often answer that question with the same mind set of Herman.: What’s in it for me?” I often hear people ask: “What does your church have to offer me and my family? I am often tempted to respond: wrong question. The question is: what do you and your family have to offer God and God’s church?

I hear people often complain: “I just don’t get anything out of church.” I believe we get out of church in proportion to what we give to the worship experience.

Worship is not so much about us as it is about God. Worship is one way in which we can express our love for God. It is one way we respond to God’s love.

I believe a little five-year-old girl in one of the stories found in ‘Chicken Soup For The Soul’ understands what God and life are all about. It is a story told by her doctor.

Little Mary had suffered a stroke that left half of her body paralyzed. To compound Mary’s tragedy, she had been hospitalized for treatment of a brain tumor. And to make matters even worse, Mary was also an orphan.

Mary was being examined in an MRI machine which required her to be perfectly still for about five minutes; a demanding task for a five-year-old.

About two minutes into the first sequence, the doctor and the technician noticed on the video monitor that Mary’s mouth was moving. They even heard a muted voice over the intercom.

They halted the exam and gently reminded Mary not to talk. She smiled and promised not to talk.

They repeated the sequence with the same result. Mary’s lips were moving.

The technologist, a bit gruffly said, “Mary, you were talking again and that causes blurry pictures.”

Mary’s smile remained as she replied: “I wasn’t talking. I was singing. You said no talking. You didn’t say anything about singing.”

“What were you singing?” the doctor asked. “Jesus Loves Me,” came the reply. “I always sing ‘Jesus Loves Me’ when I am happy.” Mary exclaimed.

Everyone in the room was speechless. Happy? How could this little girl be happy?

The doctor and technologist had to leave the room to regain their composure as tears began to fall.

Mary was happy because she knew Jesus loved her. Even though Mary was an orphan, even though she was partially paralyzed, even though she had a brain tumor she knew Jesus loved her.

Life may not be all that we had hoped it would be. You may be facing some difficult times. You may be faced with a health crisis. You may be making that difficult journey through the valley of grief. None of that changes the fact that Jesus loves you.

And is that not reason enough to come and offer our praise and worship?

Why do you come to church?

Blessings,
Pastor Russel

“A young man was widowed and left alone with his six-year-old daughter. He had a hard time working through his own grief, but admitted that the hardest part was trying to comfort and explain the death to his daughter. Even, with all he knew, he was left at a loss.

One day as he and his little girl were standing on a busy street corner waiting for a light to change; a very large truck suddenly sped by the corner. As it came close to them, the truck blocked out the sun and frightened his daughter. The man picked her up to comfort her, and in a moment of revelation the wisdom of God broke through and he was able to explain death to his daughter.

‘When you saw the truck pass, it scared you. But let me ask you this, would you rather have been struck by the truck, or the shadow of the truck?’

‘The shadow of the truck, of course,’ his daughter answered.

He then explained to her, ‘When your mother died, she was only hit by the shadow of death because Jesus was hit by the truck, his death on the cross.’”

Sometimes we feel like that little six-year-old girl as we wrestle with death. We have so many questions. There is so much we don’t understand. We are left to pick up the pieces, make sense of it all and begin to carve out a new kind of normal for our lives as we attempt to live again.

Over the years I have waited with countless families and counseled with them as they stood helplessly watching their loved ones pass from this life. Sometimes, ministry of presence is all one can offer; for often there are no acceptable answers to our questions. I have learned over the years that Christianity is often more a religion of presence than it is a religion of answers.

I always remind folks to focus on the things that we know, embracing the answers that we have, and not waste time or energy on those questions we may never have answered. The apostle Paul reminds us; “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully, even as I have been fully understood.” Some day when we are face to face with our Lord all of our questions will be answered.

I also focus on the Apostle Paul’s outlook on grief. We grieve but we grieve differently than non-Christians. We grieve but we do not grieve as those who have no hope. Our hope is in the One who showers us with grace. Our hope is in the one who reassures us that death is not the end. Jesus reminds us: “Let not your hearts be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many rooms.”

These last days I have stood with my mother, sister and family watching my sister, Diana slowly slip away from us. As I write this I have just learned that Diana will be moved to a hospice house where we will continue to surround her with our love and wait her passing.

I find however, my heart is troubled. It is troubled because no parent should have to bury their child, much less two of her children. I am troubled that Diana has had to deal with this disease for so many years and suffer so many complications. I am troubled because there will be one more empty chair around our family table. Yes, my heart is troubled! But I know God deals with troubled hearts in loving and gracious ways until they are once again healed. I know we do not make this journey alone.

But in the midst of a broken and troubled heart I am able to discover a sense of thankfulness and rejoicing.

1. I am thankful for the gift of a sister for 51 years.
2. I am thankful for the many memories that I now cherish.
3. I am thankful for a mother, who is my hero, as she so bravely deals with her grief with such magnanimous faith.
4. I am thankful for a loving and devoted wife.
5. I am thankful for three marvelous daughters that I adore and their wonderful spouses.
6. I am thankful for two precious grandbabies.
7. I am thankful for my baby sister who graces us all with her gift of laughter.
8. I am thankful for a church family that loves me and supports me.
9. I am thankful for loving and caring friends.
10. I am especially thankful that in God’s love death does not have the last word.
11. I am thankful that even though there will be another empty chair at our table my sister will be seated at a far greater table. She will have the great pleasure of joining my father, brother, grandmother, grandfather and so many other family members and friends at the King’s table.

One of my favorite hymns is the Gaither hymn: Because He Lives….

God sent his Son, they called him Jesus;
he came to love, heal and forgive;
he lived and died to buy my pardon,
an empty grave is there to prove my Savior lives.

Because he lives, I can face tomorrow;
because he lives, all fear is gone;
because I know he holds the future,
and life is worth the living just because he lives.

And then one day I’ll cross the river;
I’ll fight life’s final war with pain;
and then as death gives way to victory,
I’ll see the lights of glory and I’ll know he reigns.

Yes, even though my heart is broken with grief, I am blessed and grateful

“Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy victory? O death, where is thy sting? But thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Your Blessed Pastor,
Russel

Holy Week begins with Palm/Passion Sunday: remembering the day that began with the excitement and joy of a parade with Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. We remember as youngsters the joy and excitement of standing along a parade route stretching on tip toes eagerly anticipating all that would pass our way. But the joy and excitement of Jesus’ parade quickly turned ugly; the same voices shouting Hosannas, only hours later, would shout CRUCIFY HIM! CRUCIFY HIM!

But there were others there that fateful day that we give very little attention or praise. It was their spirit of giving that made the events of that day and days to come possible. We know the story well; Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey. That donkey belonged to somebody and that somebody willingly gave his donkey to help bring about Jesus’ mission. (“Go into the village opposite you, and immediately you will find an ass tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, ‘the Lord has need of them,’ and he will send them immediately.” Matthew 21: 2b-3.)

The Passover Meal, which has come to be known as The Last Supper, took place in an upper room that someone was kind enough to give for the festivities. (“And on that first day of Unleavened Bread, when they sacrificed the Passover lamb, his disciples said to him, ‘Where will you have us go and prepare for you to eat the Passover?’ And he sent two of his disciples and said to them, ‘Go into the city, and a man carrying a jar of water will meet you; follow him, and wherever he enters, say to the householder, ‘The teacher says, Where is my guest room, where I am to eat the Passover with my disciples?’ And he will show you a large upper room furnished and ready…” Mark 14: 12-15a.)

God’s work is accomplished by those who are willing to give…giving of themselves and of their resources.

Bill Wilson pastors an inner city church in New York City. His mission field is a very violent place. He himself has been stabbed twice as he ministered to the people of the community surrounding the church. Once a Puerto Rican woman became involved in the church and was led to Christ. After her conversion she came to Pastor Wilson and said, “I want to do something to help with the church’s ministry.” He asked her what her talents were and she could think of nothing—she couldn’t even speak English—but she did love children. So he put her on one of the church’s buses that went into neighborhoods and transported kids to church. Every week she performed her duties. She would find the worst-looking kid on the bus, put him on her lap and whispered over and over the only words she had learned in English: “I love you. Jesus loves you.”

After several months, she became attached to one little boy in particular. The boy didn’t speak. He came to Sunday School every week with his sister and sat on the woman’s lap, but he never made a sound. Each week she would tell him all the way to Sunday School and all the way home, “I love you. Jesus loves you.”

One day to her amazement, the little boy turned around and stammered, “I—I—I love you too!” Then he put his arms around her and gave her a big hug. That was 2:30 on a Sunday afternoon. At 6:30 that evening he was found dead. His own mother had beaten him to death and thrown his body in the trash. “I love you. Jesus loves you.” Those were some of the last words this little boy heard in his short life—from the lips of a Puerto Rican woman who could barely speak English. This woman gave her one talent to God and because of that a little boy who never heard the word “love” in his own home, experienced and responded to the love of Christ.

The defeat and horror of Holy Week do not have the last words. God’s victorious love evidenced in the resurrection of His Son on that first Easter morning always has the last word. Easter proclaims loudly and clearly; GOD LOVES US!

What can you give? What is your colt? What is your Upper Room? You and I each have something in our lives, which, if given back to God, could, like the colt, like the Upper Room, move Jesus and His message further down the road.

Easter Blessings,
Pastor Russel

The other day Thomas, our custodian, came into the office with a song in his heart and his step just a bit lighter as he joyfully announced that he was carded the night before when purchasing an adult beverage. Without thinking, I jumped out of my chair and exclaimed, what is up with that? All I ever hear is, “Would you like the senior citizen discount?” I have been asked this question for a few years now. I find it interesting (Nancy finds it quite delightful) when we are shopping together the clerk always looks at me and inquires if I might be interested in the senior discount, never…ever….not even once have they asked Nancy.

At last I have reached that magical age when I am entitled to a senior discount. I can now order from the senior menu at restaurants, I can take advantage of AARP discounts (I have been a member of that elite group for a few years now.), I now have to watch for those special days when seniors are offered an additional discount. I am even eligible to live in senior apartment complexes. WOW! There are some perks to “maturing.”

Someone sent me the following with the note: “You are ‘OLD’ if you remember…”

• Headlight dimmer switches on the car floor
• Wax coke-shaped bottles with colored sugar water
• Soda pop machines that dispensed glass bottles (I personally enjoyed the chocolate pop.)
• Blackjack chewing gum
• Coffee shops with tableside juke boxes
• Wash tub ringers
• Newsreels before the movie
• Telephone numbers with the word prefix
• Mimeograph paper

Good grief I must be old because I can remember all of those and in addition I can remember when we had an outhouse. Not a pleasant memory. But if I were a betting man I would wager we had the cleanest outhouse in Hillsville.

Now, I understand age is relative. In the eyes of some I am yet a youngster. But when you realize you have more years behind you then you have ahead of you it gives you cause to pause and reflect.

Melanie told me about a Country and Western song she heard on the radio. I searched for it on the Internet. The song involves a dad and his daughter and she grows and gets married but in the end realizes that no one will love her as much as her dad. It is a very touching song. Here are the lyrics….

Wind blowing on my face
Sidewalk flying beneath my bike
A five year olds first taste
Of what freedoms really like
He was running right beside me
His hand holding on the seat
I took a deep breath and hollered
As I headed for the street

“You can let go now daddy
You can let go
Oh I think I’m ready to do this on my own
It’s still a little scary
But I want you to know
I’ll be okay now daddy
You can let go”

I was standing at the altar
Between the two loves of my life
To one I’ve been a daughter
To one I soon would be a wife
When the preacher asked
“Who gives this woman?”
Daddy’s eyes filled up with tears
He kept holding tightly to my arm
‘Til I whispered in his ear:

“You can let go now daddy
You can let go
Oh I think I’m ready to do this on my own
It still feels a little bit scary
But I want you to know
I’ll be okay now daddy
You can let go”

It was killing me
To see the strongest man I ever knew
Wasting away to nothing in that hospital room
“You know he’s only hanging on for you”
That’s what the night nurse said
My voice and heart were breaking
As I crawled up in his bed and said:

“You can let go now daddy
You can let go
Your little girl is ready to do this on my own
Its gonna be a little bit scary
But I want you to know
I’ll be okay now daddy
You can let go
You can let go”

Now that my eyes have cleared of tears I can type again. Having three wonderful daughters I can relate to this song. I have lived more than half of that song and I know there will come a day when I will complete it. But I am certainly not ready to let go yet.

As I pause and reflect I am reminded again and again of the one Jesus called “Abba” which means daddy. We have a God who intimately loves us as our heavenly “Daddy”. And in the end we will realize no one will ever love us any more than our Abba…our heavenly daddy. As we enter the liturgical season of lent and journey to the cross we experience again just how much God loves each and every one of us.

I am also reminded that we often make the MISTAKE of telling our Heavenly Father to let go. We somehow convince ourselves that we can do it on our own. The good news is God will never let us go. He will never leave us orphaned. He is by our side each and every step of the way. And when it does come time to make that transition God will usher us to our true home.

Life is a precious gift. And none of us knows when life here on earth will end. A wise woman once said, “Each of us is put here on earth to learn, share, love, appreciate and give of ourselves. None of us knows when this fantastic experience will end. It can be taken away at any moment. Perhaps this is God’s way of telling us that we must make the most out of every single day.”

Thanks be to God for the gift and blessing of today!

Blessings,

Your Senior Citizen Pastor,

Pastor Russel

My eyes were glued to the television as our 44th president was sworn into office, blessed to be a part of history being made. It was very interesting to hear the various comments made. I heard one lady comment, “I woke my children up the day after the election and told them that Martin Luther King’s dream had become a reality.

Others disagree. In the letters to the editor in a recent Pittsburgh Post Gazette, the headlines read: “The day King dreamed of has not yet arrived.”
The author of that letter wrote; “On Inauguration Day, I heard many quotes of Martin Luther King Jr. (a man I admired and respected). He dreamed that one day a man would be judged by the content of his character and not the color of his skin. This is not that day. On Tuesday, MLK’s nephew said his uncle’s dream was not that one race would have power over another, but that race would not be the issue—character was the important thing. We must stop the hate and mistrust of each other. My hope is that the step our country took Tuesday will lead us to look at each person—black, white, red, yellow or brown—and see a fellow countryman, an American…”

The world is so full of pain because we insist on judging others who are different than we are. I lost a dear friend this past week. Raymond was no stranger to the pain of being judged because he was different. Raymond was a ‘special needs’ individual. His cognitive skills were that of a young elementary age child. Raymond often lamented, “I wish I was like everybody else.”

Several years ago I began to tutor Raymond so he could learn to read and write. He told me that his niece also tried to teach him. When she was young they would play school. Raymond was sent to a special school when he was young. But sadly at that time they did not have the resources we have today. He said the teachers had him baby-sit the younger children.

Raymond was of the Roman Catholic faith but would often attend Bible study at the Methodist church I was serving. He did not join in the conversation at the studies. He simply appreciated being a part of the group. It was important to him to belong.

He would often come to worship. He would sit up front positioning himself directly before the pulpit where he could see me clearly and make eye contact. He felt safe and secure in the fact that I welcomed him with open arms. He could not read to sing the hymns, but he would stand with the others so reverently. He would sit and bow his head in prayer. And he would listen to every word of my sermons.

I was saddened when I would hear people in the church say, “Why doesn’t he go to his own church? Why does he have to come here?” I was angered when Raymond would tell me that people in the church would say those hurtful things to him directly. But thankfully he came anyway. Honestly, I don’t think I would have had the same kind of courage.

Raymond had difficulty with his speech. He could not say Rev. Shuluga (many people have difficulty with that name). He would always say, “Hey, Rev. Kaluga!” Nor could he say minister. It was always min-ster! Both became such endearing words to me…Rev. Kuluga…min-ster. How I wish I could hear them one more time.

Raymond would come to my office and talk. He wanted…needed… to share his pain of rejection, the pain of being used and abused because he was different. He would sit and cry as he recalled the pain of being “different.” He said something to me that I will never forget, something I have used many times as a sermon illustration, “Why can’t people just love me for me?”

When I moved away for another appointment, Raymond would always write. Yes, he did learn to write a little. The letters were always the same, “How are you? I am fine? Mom and dad are fine? How is your mom? I love you. You are my friend. Raymond Barone, Jr.

Raymond also remained connected to his friends via the telephone. He would always end our conversation with, “You will always be my friend.”

My heart is heavy today as I hear Raymond’s words echoing in my mind: “Why can’t I be like everybody else? Why can’t I be loved for me?”

I rejoice that Raymond is now made whole. He no longer has physical limitations. He no longer has cognitive limitations. But in reality Raymond was always heads above many because he embraced that which is most important, love and acceptance of all people.

Raymond, with all of his limitations taught us all a very important lesson when he asked, “Why can’t I be loved for me?”

Raymond now knows that he is truly loved just for being Raymond. He is in the presence of our God who loves us just as we are and claims us as his own.

Our God also has a dream, a dream expressed through the Apostle Paul in his letter to the Galatians: “For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male or female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

I sometimes think God is asking the same question Raymond voiced, “Why can’t people just love people for who they are?”

When will we stop seeing each other’s differences and begin seeing each other as brothers and sisters; marvelously and wonderfully made in His image? When will we look at another and say, “There is another child of God?”

Raymond you will always be my friend. Thanks for the life lesson. It will never be forgotten.

Blessings,

Pastor Russel

By the time you read this letter 2008 will belong to the history books.

Some will be glad to close the 2008 calendar; for them it has been a year of tears because of grief and pain. For others it has been a year of struggle due to illness, loss of employment, economic downfall, or loss of a marriage.

Others will be sad to see it come to an end because the year was filled with joy and excitement given due to success, the arrival of babies, new employment, new love, and the list goes on.

As we look over our shoulder at 2008 most of us discover we have had a mixture of joy and sadness. We have had our times of celebration and we have had our wilderness journeys.

And as we stand on tiptoes of the threshold of a new year, we do so with a sense of anticipation and perhaps a little fear wondering what these 12 new months will hold for us.

Bertha Adams didn’t have to wonder what the next day or the next month would hold for her. It was always the same routine: begging door to door.

At 71 years-of-age she weighed only 51 pounds. She was a pitiful case covering her emaciated body with Salvation Army clothes.

Her begging and suffering came to an end with her death on April 5, 1975 in Florida after spending her last few days of her sad life in a nursing home.

When she died, however, authorities discovered she left behind a fortune of over a million dollars, including six hundred thousand dollars in cash and several hundred shares of valuable stock she had stored in two safety deposit boxes.

What would possess a person to live the way she lived with such valuable resources at her disposal? To think about the wealth that was hers and how she could have thrived instead of begging and starving until there was no more life in her body might lead one to exclaim, “WHAT A FOOL!”

As we step into 2009 we do not have to enter as “FOOLS.” We do not have to endure the year in spiritual poverty limping along until we are spiritually dead.

Our reality is there is an abundance of spiritual wealth at our disposal. It is there simply for the asking. Whatever we may find or encounter this year we have God’s bank full of the necessary resources: his strength, his presence, his comfort, his love, his forgiveness, his joy, his peace. You can make a withdrawal at any time and as many times as necessary. And the good news is God’s bank is always open and God continually makes deposits so that we are never overdrawn.

My prayer for all of us for the New Year is that we will not be fools. God is waiting with open arms to give us what we need as we need it.
We have before us the blessings of 12 new chapters waiting to be filled.

May the New Year find you thriving in God’s mercy.

Peace, Health and Happiness for the New Year,

Pastor Russel

Your generous Christmas gift is greatly appreciated. Each and every one of you blesses us again and again, touching our hearts in amazing ways. It is a privilege and honor to serve as your pastor. My prayer is that God will make me worthy of this calling.

Your Parsonage Family,

Nancy & Pastor Russel