From the Pastor’s Heart

A recent trip to Virginia to visit our daughter and her family turned out to be very educational. The first evening we were there our grandson, Mac and I took the dogs for their early evening walk. I noticed a couple of the homes had colored lights strung around their doorways. I exclaimed, “Look Mac, Christmas lights!” He immediately responded, “No ‘Kistmas’ lights, Pappy!” And then he said something I could not understand. I naturally corrected my grandson asking, “Don’t you remember Christmas lights?” Aha! This was a perfect opportunity for some Christian education. I then went on to explain, “We put Christmas lights up to celebrate Jesus’ birth.” He just looked at me and said, “I’m telling my dad!” “Go ahead and tell your dad,” I said. “Pappy knows something about Jesus and Christmas.” Mac was now upset and said with a huff, “No ‘Kistmas’ lights Pappy!” And with that proclamation our conversation ended. He refused to engage in any more conversation about Christmas lights.

When we returned home I told my son-in-law, I tried to teach Mac about the Christmas lights that are decorating a couple of the homes but he got upset and insisted they are not Christmas lights.” Matt simply said, “He is right. They are not Christmas lights. They are Dewali lights.” “Dewali lights? What are Dewali lights?” I asked. He explained that in the Hindu tradition there is a celebration of lights called the Dewali Festival. When we got home I researched it on the Internet and found that the Dewali Festival is by far the most glamorous and important Hindu festival—the festival of lights. During this five day festival gifts are given and sweets are an important part of the festival diet. Sure enough my almost 3 year-old grandson had taught his old Pappy a lesson. Dewali lights, that is what Mac was trying to say to me. I have to admit I had never heard of them.

Here we are in the Advent season and quickly approaching Christmas. I wonder how many of us will miss the true meaning of this very holy season as I didn’t understand the Dewali lights?

It is like the little boy who returned from Sunday school with a new perspective on the Christmas story. He’d learned all about the wise men form the East who brought gifts to the baby Jesus. He was so excited; he could hardly wait to tell his parents.

As soon as the boy arrived home, he immediately began: “I learned all about the very first Christmas in Sunday school today! There wasn’t a Santa Claus way back then, so these three skinny guys on camels had to deliver all the toys! And Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, with his nose so bright, wasn’t there yet, so they had to have this big spotlight in the sky to find their way around!”

Even as adults we often end up not quite getting the meaning of the first Christmas. Matthew describes the gift of the season of Advent with a single word, my favorite of all the Christmas words—Emmanuel, God with us. Not God HAS BEEN with us, not God WILL BE with us; but God WITH US, RIGHT NOW, TODAY!

God didn’t send his Son to give us a sentimental holiday: he came to save us from sin. He didn’t come because we are nice people; but because we are lost people; and because if Jesus hadn’t come, we could never be found.

If we let ‘Merry Christmas’ become simply ‘Seasons Greetings,’ and if the ‘holy day’ becomes just a holiday—-well, it will be as if the shepherds leaving the manger had told their friends, “We’ve just seen the cutest little baby boy!” And as if the wise men had sent a congratulatory letter rather than traveled weeks in order to bring their gold, frankincense and myrrh.

My grandson taught me a great lesson about Dewali lights. Christmas, however, is not a lesson that we learn. Christmas is something we experience. May we hear and experience the angels great proclamation:

“And in that region there were shepherds out in the field keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with fear. And the angel said to them, ‘Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people; for to you is born this day in the city of David a savior, who is Christ the Lord.’”

I know you have heard the story. Have you experienced it?

Christmas Blessings,

Pastor Russel

A couple of days ago I was sitting in an outpatient waiting room at one of the hospitals in Pittsburgh. I very much enjoy observing people. And, as I sat there, I saw an elderly couple sitting directly across from me. They both appeared to be very frail but I noticed that it was the woman who had the hospital band on her wrist. She looked weary and worn. She gently took the man’s hand and held it tightly. He gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He looked confused and bewildered, and I could see a sense of fear in his eyes. But the frail woman obviously found solace in the man by her side. She put her head on his shoulder and tried to muster a weak smile as she closed her eyes. He continued to hold her hand and leaned his head over and rested it on her head. I allowed my imagination to work overtime. Did he know something she didn’t? Or maybe they both knew what they were about to face would not be easy. I wondered why they were alone. Didn’t they have any children or grandchildren that could accompany them? At the moment, all they had was each other, and that seemed to be enough. My heart was touched by the love and care they expressed for each other.

In whom do you find solace? Whom is the one in your life that offers the reassurance that is often needed? Who can you count on?

A true story I read in “Sermons on the First Readings” illustrates this kind of reassurance and dependability. “In 1989, an 8.2 magnitude earthquake flattened much of the state of Armenia and killed over 30,000 people in less than four minutes. In the midst of the utter devastation and chaos, a man left his wife in the security of others at home and rushed to the school where he had taken his son that morning, only to discover that the building was damaged almost beyond recognition. After he recovered from the trauma of his discovery, the man remembered a promise he made to his son a few years earlier: ‘No matter what, I will always be there for you!’ The man’s eyes filled with tears as he looked at the pile of debris that once was the school. Despite the apparent hopelessness of the situation, the commitment he had made continued to haunt him.

The father concentrated on where his son might be in the building, remembering where he had dropped him off that morning. When he felt he knew the location, he began to dig through the rubble. As he was digging, other forlorn parents, clutching their hearts and crying out the name of their child, tried to pull him off the pile, saying, ‘It’s too late! They are dead; you can’t help hem now.’ To each parent he only responded, ‘Are you going to help now?’ The police then came and said to the father, ‘you are distraught and angry, but in your actions you are endangering others. Go home; we will handle it.’ But again the father responded, ‘Are you going to help now?’ No one was willing to help.

Courageously, the man continued with his task, for he needed to know for himself if his son was dead or alive. He dug for eight hours—twelve hours—24 hours—36 hours and then, in the 38th hour, he pulled back a huge boulder and heard his son’s voice. He screamed his son’s name, ‘Armand!’ The boy called back, ‘Dad, it’s me! I told the others here not to worry. I told them that if you were alive you would save me because you had promised, ‘No matter what, I will be there for you!’ You did it, Dad.’ The boy and thirteen companions had been saved when a triangle-like wedge formed when the building collapsed. The father called his son, ‘Come out, boy!’ ‘No, Dad,’ said the son, ‘let the other kids out first, because I know you will get me. No matter what, I know you will be there for me!’” This true account is an excellent illustration of how one man refused to give up. This young boy knew that he could count on his dad. It is such a blessing when we have others in our lives to whom we can turn for comfort and strength.

During that same visit at the hospital where I observed the elderly couple, I also saw a man who was all-alone. He had difficulty walking and had trouble hearing. He looked so very alone. I realize not everyone has someone to lean upon. Not everyone has a shoulder to turn to. The good news is we all have our Divine Creator, in whom we can trust our very lives.

This Sunday we will celebrate All Saints Sunday. It is a day in which we remember and celebrate the lives of those who have died in the last year. In that celebration, we find strength, comfort and peace in God’s promise: “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go and prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.” We also find solace in Jesus’ promise; “I will not leave you orphaned.”

We are not alone. Jesus takes each of us by the hand and gives a reassuring squeeze. Thanks be to God.

Blessings,

Pastor Russel

I would like to share with you a true story, which comes from the book, ‘Expecting Adam,’ by Martha Beck. It is a story of birth, rebirth and everyday magic. It is not necessarily a religious book but I would certainly classify it as a spiritual book.

Martha and her husband John were on the track for academic success. They each had two Harvard degrees and were working toward another. This gives you a glimpse of the character of these two people. They had two young daughters and very clearly had their goals mapped out for their lives as they climbed the ladder of academic achievement and success. They were living out their idea of the American dream.

But suddenly there was a wrinkle in their goals. Martha discovered she was pregnant. The pregnancy was unexpected, unplanned and quite honestly, unwanted. This pregnancy did not fit into their vision of their future. They were too busy working on their academic careers and had no time for this unplanned interruption. Complicating things further Martha learned the child she was carrying had Down’s Syndrome.

John and Martha confided in a few advisors and friends at Harvard. These so called ‘educated people’ advised that they would surely do the ‘right thing’. One professor’s remarks I found to be very offensive: “Every woman has the obligation to screen her every pregnancy so that she does not bring a child into the world that would not be a hardship to society.” They warned Martha and John that if they decided to have this baby, they would lose all hope of achieving their carefully crafted goals.

Martha and John chose to have the baby. Little Adam now made them a family of five.

When Adam was three-years-old, well into his third year, he still was not talking. His inability to talk was terribly frustrating for him, and it just plain broke Martha’s heart. She worked with him day in and day out. Martha spent countless hours going through the exercises with Adam that the speech therapist had taught her, having no success whatsoever. Adam sometimes made random sounds that could be force-fit into words, but not with any degree of honesty. Martha had to face it. The kid couldn’t talk. Not at all!

One day after spending an entire afternoon working with Adam and trying to get him to say a word or two, Martha hit an all time low. Martha was tired, frustrated and depressed. She realized it was getting late and went to the kitchen to start supper. She discovered there was no food in the cupboards and would have to go to the grocery store. To make a bad day worse all the baby sitters were busy and her husband would not be home for a few hours. She would have to take all three kids shopping with her.

She did something none of us parents have ever done—she bribed them. She told them that if they were good at the store they could pick out a treat from the candy stands next to the checkout counter. She was too tired and discouraged to enforce discipline any other way.

When they had finished shopping Katie chose a roll of Life Savers and Lizzie a chocolate bar. Adam, who seemed to understand everything his mother said even though he couldn’t speak in return, went over to a bucket of roses and carefully looked them over and finally pulled out a very special rose and put it on the counter.

Martha looked at her son and shook her head and said, “Adam, this isn’t candy. The candy is over here.” She turned him around to the candy section and she put the rose back in the bucket. Little Adam went back to the bucket and picked out the very same rose and put it on the counter. Martha tried again, “Honey, this isn’t candy. The candy is over here.” He pointed at the rose. “This is what you want?” Martha asked. He simply nodded with a smile that went form ear to ear.

On the ride home Adam’s sisters unwrapped their treats and began enjoying their selections while Adam sat in his car seat holding his selection with both hands.

When they got home Martha had forgotten about Adam’s strange purchase and started putting the groceries away and began supper. After supper she bathed the kids and put them to bed. She fell exhausted into her bed and fell fast asleep.

The next morning, John had already left for the day. Martha could hear the girls in their room talking and laughing. She sighed with a sense of hopelessness because she knew that she would never here Adam join his sisters in conversation.

Just then she heard Adam’s small feet paddling down the hallway toward his parent’s bedroom. He appeared at the door with the rose, which he had put in a small crystal vase. She looked at him in surprise. She didn’t realize that he knew what vases were for, let alone how to get one down form the cupboard, fill it with water, and put a flower in it.

Adam walked over to his other’s bed and handed her the rose. As he held it out to her, he said in a clear and calm voice, “HERE!” Then he turned around, his little blue pajamas dragging a bit on the floor and padded out of the room.

For the first time in three years Martha’s hopelessness turned to hopefulness. For the first time she realized her son, flesh of her flesh, had a soul she could hardly comprehend. She sensed that he was sorry for the pain his mother felt as she tried to turn him into a ‘normal’ child, and that he loved her despite her many disabilities.

I share this story with you for a couple of reasons.
God loves us and fully accepts us regardless of our shortcomings and flaws. God sees in us what we are not able to see in ourselves.
Many of God’s children are not strangers to hopelessness. Just when we think we are at our wits end something happens to show us the way…. to bring light to our darkness. Hope is restored. God is the giver of that hope. When we least expect God hands us a rose and says, “Here!”

My prayer for you is that you may know God’s hope and in knowing that hope you may be agents of hope to a lost and hurting world.

Blessings,

Pastor Russel

A few months ago Nancy and I bought a new kitchen table. When we saw it we both thought the same thing, the bench that came with this table would be perfect for our grandchildren, now that we are blessed with four. (It seems like yesterday that their mothers were just little ones gathering around our table.) We could just see them all sitting there eating Grammy’s wonderful homemade food or Pappy’s homemade pizza. We can hardly wait until they are all old enough to gather around Grammy and Pappy’s table along with their parents. Oh the celebrations this table will see. It is on this table we will color Easter eggs, we will delight in Grammy’s Christmas cookies and when Great Grandma Shuluga visits she will bring some of her famous wedding soup and/or eggplant. Or maybe some halushkies!

Nancy has been setting our table since May of 1974. From the very beginning of our marriage she has set the table for at least three. You see my youngest sister was only four when we married and Brenda often came home with me and joined us for supper. There was always room around our table for any and all who came through the door.

Many of you probably still remember the kitchen or dining room table from the home of your childhood, or your grandmother’s table or the first kitchen table you bought when you set up housekeeping.

The first table I remember at my parent’s home had a red Formica top and shiny silver colored legs. The chairs were upholstered with a vinyl to match the tabletop and the chair legs matched the shiny legs of the table. Every day that table was set by 4:00 P.M. when my dad got off work. At four o’clock sharp the Carbon Limestone whistle would blow, the beagles would howl and we knew our dad would soon appear. He would wash his hands and face and we would gather around that red table. And when company came the extra leaf would come out of the closet and would be put into place.

The kitchen or dinning room table is so important to the life of a family. And the most important thing about them is not the food that is placed on them but the people who gather around them. It is not the food that is most important but the fellowship, the conversation, the love that feeds the heart and soul.

God has a spectacular table as well. Sadly, there are those who are attempting to monitor the table and the guest list allowing only a select few to find a place around the table.

God’s Good News is no one is excluded. There is a place for you, a place for me and a place for any and all who will come. Around God’s table we will find a love like no other.

God has a mission for each of us. We all are to go out into God’s world and remind folks that there is a place at the table just waiting for them, a place where they will join their brothers and sisters in Christ, a place where we will celebrate being a family….the family of God. So slide on down and make room for all who will come!

Your Table Partner,
Pastor Russel

This beautiful summer morning as I sit writing this short epistle I am eagerly waiting for the telephone to ring with the news that Melanie is in the hospital ready to deliver our fourth grandchild. Is today the day? Maybe it will be tomorrow! The baby is due any day now and the interesting thing is Melanie is still not sure of a name for her precious little girl. Several names have appeared on the list of possibilities.
 
Names are very special and much thought and prayer should be given to naming a child. Some names are given because of family tradition; others are given because of the meaning associated with the name. Some people even try to be humorous when naming their children. Perhaps you have heard of the Lear Jet? Well, the Lear family named their daughter Chanda Lear. A man by the name of Jerry Mellow named his son Marshall. Can you imagine growing up with the name Marshall Mellow?
 
The naming of our granddaughter made me wonder about God’s name. The subject of God’s name remains one of the most confusing and disputed issues in Christianity. This is partly because God has many names in Scripture. Every book of the Bible makes reference to “God” except one. Do you know that book? The Book of Esther never mentions God.
 
If you Google God you will find several names that are given in the Bible that help us understand our God. What is the “correct” name of God? The word so often translated “LORD” in the scriptures is a Biblical enigma. Nobody seems exactly sure how to pronounce that word. It is a combination of four Hebrew consonants, YHWH or JHVH. YHWH, meaning “self-existent or eternal one,” is God’s most common Hebrew name and is found about 6,823 times in the Bible.
 
There are some things that we can say for certain about God’s name….
 
God’s name is holy. Israel had a great reverence for God’s name, because the Mosaic Law taught that those who disrespected God’s name must pay the ultimate price (Leviticus 24:16). The name of God was so sacred to the ancient Jewish scribes that they used a special pen to write the name of God as they reproduced the Scriptures. Each time they came to the name of God, they would set down the regular pen and pick up a pen that was used only for writing God’s name. Only after saying a prayer, they would write God’s name with the designated pen and then resume their work.
 
God’s name is a name we can trust. God wants us to learn the true value of His name. God’s promises can be trusted. Each and every compound name of God shows how God meets every need of humanity in redemptive power. These compound words that we find in the Scriptures are always linked with some need of Humankind, and it is here that God will be all that His people need him to be.
 
God’s name is eternal. God says, “I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending.” Only a few things are declared to be eternal. These include His existence (Psalm 90:2), His Word (Mark 13:31), His gift of life for the redeemed (Romans 6:23), and His name (Exodus 3:15).
 
Do you know Him? God’s name is not a magic word, but a revelation of His character.
 
A newspaper ad read: “Lost one dog. Brown, scruffy hair with several bald spots. Right leg broken due to an auto accident. Left hip hurt. Right eye missing. Left ear bitten off in a dog fight. Answers to the name ‘Lucky’”. Obviously, that unfortunate little dog was “Lucky” in name only. Some Christians are like that! When we become Christians, we take the name of Jesus. Sadly, some people merely become nominal Christians, meaning in name only. When we say we are Christian, we have a responsibility to uplift the name of God in word and deed. Jesus began the Lord’s Prayer by saying, “Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed (holy) be thy name.” (Matthew 6:9).
 
One thing is for certain, whatever name Melanie and Kurt give their precious baby she will be loved unconditionally. She will grow up in a family that will do everything possible to make sure she is loved and protected.
 
It is hard to imagine but God’s love for each and every one of us is stronger and greater than any love we can bestow upon our children and grandchildren.

Four-year-old Billy states: “When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.” Your name is safe in God’s mouth. Is God’s name safe in your mouth?
 
Blessings,
Pastor Russel
 

One Spring Sunday morning in 1996 when I was serving the Point Marion United Methodist Church a little boy came to worship with his mother. This young lad came with an agenda and with a great sense of anticipation. I am not sure that even his mother knew what was on his mind until they walked through the church doors and he turned to her and asked: “Where is God? I want to meet God?”

I saw this young family standing in the back of the church and with a hospitable heart I greeted them enthusiastically by introducing myself and welcoming them to the church. The young woman politely introduced herself and her son and immediately said: “My son wants to meet God.” The young fellow chimed in: “Yea, where is He?” Have you ever found yourself wondering where God is?

It was a tragic accident. A twenty-five-year-old man was killed in an automobile accident when he drove his vehicle into the Cheat River on Christmas Eve. I was called upon to conduct the funeral. Just minutes before the funeral was to begin this young man’s fiancé who was to give birth to their baby in a few weeks came up to me overwhelmed with grief. “I need to talk to you,” she cried. We went to the parlor and she sobbed: “Where is God in all of this? How could a good God allow such a horrible thing to happen to us?”

I had five minutes to give an abbreviated theology lesson about God to a devastated young woman whose world had been turned upside down. The only thing she was hearing was the pounding of her broken heart.

We are cognitive people. We have a great need to understand. We want to find God that we might understand the Almighty. Theologians have struggled for years trying to define (understand) God. Turn to the back of the hymnal and you will find not one but ten Affirmations of Faith all attempting to help us understand God. Many hymns make an attempt at explaining God.

The great theologian, Augustine, while puzzling over God, was walking along the beach one day when he observed a young boy with a bucket running back and forth to pour water into a little hole. Augustine asked, “What are you doing?” the boy replied, “I’m trying to put the ocean into this hole.” Then Augustine realized that he had been trying to put an infinite God into his finite mind.

There is an old story about the theologian Karl Barth (pronounced Bart), who was on a speaking tour of the United States. On college campuses all across this country, he was drawing huge crowds to hear his very complex answers to the questions of life. When he was speaking at Princeton University, the great hall was packed with faculty, students and visitors who came to hear Karl Barth speak. During the question and answer period one student asked, “Dr. Barth, may I ask you a personal question?” Dr. Barth smiled and said, “Yes, you may ask anything.” The student asked: “Dr. Barth you are a very educated man. What is the greatest truth you have ever learned? Dr. Barth bowed his head, thinking for a moment about how he would respond. Then he raised his head and looked out at the student who asked the question and he said. “The greatest truth I ever learned was at my mother’s knee: Jesus loves me, this I know for the Bible tells me so.” Maybe that is all we need to know about God, God is love.

This Sunday we will observe Memorial Day by honoring our veterans. We will also pause and pay tribute to those who have given their all in the fight for freedom. God has given us the greatest freedom we will ever know…freedom from the penalty of our sin, just because He loves us. Where is God? God is here loving us in all seasons of our lives.

This Sunday the chancel choir will sing one of my favorite anthems, ‘In This Very Room’ by Ron and Carol Harris. The words always speak to my heart.

In this very room, there’s quite enough love for one like me.
And in this very room, there’s quite enough joy for one like me,
And there’s quite enough hope and quite enough power to chase away any gloom.
For Jesus, Lord Jesus, is in this very room.

In this very room, there’s quite enough love for all of us.
And in this very room, there’s quite enough joy for all of us.
And there’s quite enough hope and quite enough power to chase away any gloom.
For Jesus, Lord Jesus, is in this very room.

In this very room, there’s quite enough love for all the world.
And in this very room, there’s quite enough joy for all the world.
And there’s quite enough hope and quite enough power to chase away any gloom,
For Jesus, Lord Jesus, is in this very room.
Where is God? God is right here loving us!

Blessings,

Pastor Russel

I recently read about a conversation a woman had with a street minister. I found it alarming and eye opening. “A street minister in Chicago tells the story of a young mother who came to his homeless shelter. She was sick, frightened, racked by guilt and despair and with tears streaming down her face she told her story of drug addiction, prostitution and how she had abused and endangered her two-year-old. Revolted by her degrading story, the street minister was silent. Finally he asked if she had ever thought of going to a church for help. ‘I will never forget the look of pure astonishment that crossed her face,’ he writes. ‘Church!’ She cried, ‘why would I ever go there? They’d just make me feel worse than I already do?’”

Troubling, isn’t it? I think her question is a question every church should ask and ask frequently…WHY WOULD I EVER GO THERE?

God never intended his boundaries to be less than the whole world. Whenever we look down on someone different than we are, or when we snicker at someone’s misfortune, or when we say, “Thank you, Lord, that I am not like them,” or when we say, “It’s too bad they do not believe as we believe,” we miss what it means to be the church. Sometimes it seems as if many of the people who fill church pews each Sunday have missed the whole meaning of what Christ was about? WHY WOULD I EVER GO THERE?

Richard Fairchild tells about a man living in the Appalachian area during the Depression, who went to Knoxville for the first time to transact some business. While there he saw a refrigerator that made ice. Since it was Summer, he thought it was a miracle of God. When he returned to his hometown in the mountains, his church was in the midst of a revival service. He arrived at the service during the time when people were giving testimonies. He told of the miracle of seeing ice made in the midst of summer. Well, a dispute broke out. Many claimed that there was no such thing. Others wanted to believe him. It resulted in a schism within the church. Many left the church to form a new church. Its name, to this very day, is “No Ice in The Summer Southern Baptist Church.” People can be petty, can’t they? We have all witnessed it, if not a victim of it. WHY WOULD I EVER GO THERE?

Sometimes the church doesn’t understand how to go about sharing the good news. It’s like the woman who read that dogs were healthier if fed a tablespoon of cod liver oil each day. So each day she followed the same routine—she chased her dog until she caught it, wrestled it down, and managed to force cod liver oil down the dog’s throat. Until one day when, in the middle of this grueling medicinal effort, the bottle was kicked over. With a sigh, she loosened her grip on the dog so she could wipe up the mess—only to watch the dog trot to the puddle and begin lapping it up. The dog loved cod liver oil! It was just the owner’s method of application the dog objected to. WHY WOULD I EVER GO THERE?

Even when we are in mission, we sometimes convey the wrong message or engage in mission for all the wrong reasons. A teen-aged boy informed his father of a wonderful activity that they were going to do at his church’s youth group. They were going to hand out blankets to the homeless. This was in Cleveland, Ohio where we know warmth is a necessity during the ruthless northeast winters. The young man exclaimed with fervor, “We’re passing out blankets so that we can tell them about Jesus!” His father, simply and with certainty, corrected him. He explained, “We don’t give blankets to the homeless to tell them about Jesus. We give them blankets because they are cold.” Do we understand the difference? If we are motivated by the idea that we’re going to make our church a bigger church, then our witness will ring false. If, on the other hand, we are motivated simply by the desire to transmit the love we have received from Jesus, then the world will gladly receive us. WHY WOULD I EVER GO THERE?

I appreciate the story from the Baptist tradition that rings true for all that wish to be the CHURCH. A young man was converted to Christ during his senior year in high school. Here is his story in his own words:
“I was a fresh, eager Christian, so when Tony Campolo came to our town to speak, I went to hear him. He was great! After he spoke, he asked us to sign up for his program of inner-city ministry in Philadelphia that Summer. So I did.

Well, in mid-June, I met about a hundred other kids in a Baptist church in Philadelphia. We had about an hour of singing before Dr. Campolo arrived. When he got to the church, we were really worked up, all enthusiastic and ready to go. Dr. Campolo then preached for about an hour, and when he finished people were shouting and standing on the pews and clapping. It was great! ‘OK gang, are you ready to go out there and tell’em about Jesus?’ Dr. Campolo asked. ‘Yeah, let’s go!’ we shouted back. ‘Get on the bus!’ Tony shouted. So we spilled out of the church onto the bus. We were singing and clapping. But then we began to drive deeper into the depths of the city. We weren’t in a great neighborhood when we started, but it got worse. Gradually, we stopped singing, and all of us kids were just staring out the windows. We were scared. Then the bus pulled up before one of the worst looking housing projects in Philadelphia. Tony jumped on the bus and said, ‘All right gang, go out there and tell’em about Jesus. I’ll be back at five o’clock.’

We made our way off the bus hesitantly. We stood there on the corner and had a prayer, and then we spread out. I walked down the sidewalk and stopped before a huge tenement house. I gulped, said a prayer, and ventured inside. There was a terrible odor. Windows were broken out, no lights in the hall. I walked up one flight of stairs and toward a door, where I heard a baby crying. I knocked on the door. ‘Who is it?’ said a loud voice inside. Then the door cracked open, and a woman holding a naked baby peered out at me. ‘What do you want?’ she asked in a rather mean voice. I told her that I wanted to tell her about Jesus. With that, she swung the door open and began cursing me. She cursed me all the way down the hall, down the steps, and out to the sidewalk.

I felt terrible. ‘Look at me,’ I said to myself. ‘Some Mr. Christian I am. How in the world could somebody like me think that I could tell people about Jesus?” I sat down on the curb and cried. Then I looked up and noticed a store on the corner, windows all boarded up, bars over the door. I went to the store, walked in, and looked around. Then I remembered: the baby had no diapers and the mother was smoking. I bought a box of pampers and a pack of cigarettes.

I walked back to the tenement house, said another prayer, walked in and up the flight of stairs, gulped, stood before the door and knocked. ‘Who is it?’ growled the voice inside. When she opened the door, I slid the box of diapers and the cigarettes in. She looked at them, then looked at me, and said, ‘Come in.’ I stepped into the dingy apartment. ‘Sit down!’ she commanded. I sat down on the old sofa and began to play with the baby. I put a diaper on the baby, even though I had never put a diaper on a baby before in my life. When the woman offered me a cigarette, even though I don’t smoke, I smoked. I stayed there all afternoon talking, playing with the baby, and listening to the woman. About four 0’clock, the woman looked at me and said, ‘Let me ask you something. What’s a nice boy like you doing in a place like this? So I told her everything I knew about Jesus. It took me about five minutes. Then she said, ‘Pray for me and my baby, that we can make it out of here alive.’ And I prayed.

That afternoon, after we were all back on the bus, Tony asked, ‘Well, gang, did any of you get to tell’em about Jesus?’ And I said, ‘I not only got to tell’em about Jesus. I met Jesus.’”

Jesus said that his followers can be identified by their love. Not by their clothes, not by their bumper stickers, not by what part of town they live in, but by their love. Our actions are so loud and clear that people can’t hear what we are saying. It’s easy to love in the abstract. Love in action is what the church is about.

WHY WOULD I EVER WANT TO GO THERE?

It is my prayer that the day will come when every church will be able to say, “Come, for it is here you will not find judgment, but love. It is here you will be treated as a beloved child of God.

Blessings,

Pastor Russel

This past week a phone call came into the secretary’s office. I heard Joan talking and then I heard her put the caller on hold. Joan came to my office and said there is a man on the phone who thinks you may have been his teacher many years ago when he was in 3rd grade. I never taught school full time. In addition to my student teaching I substitute taught in the Albert Gallatin School District and the Erie School District. I couldn’t imagine why a former student would be looking for me!
Joan transferred the call and the man on the other end said this may seem like a strange call but I was wondering if you did your student teaching at Harmer Elementary School? I was more than surprised, as I told him indeed I did do my student teaching at that school. He said, “My name is Bob and I am so glad that I found you. I have thought of you so many times over the years. I googled your name and wondered if this was the same Russel Shuluga that I had as a student teacher.” He continued, “I wanted to thank you for all that you did for me back then. You were so kind and patient with me. My parents didn’t go to church or Sunday School and I had such a curiosity about God and you took the time to tell me about faith and God. You even brought in your Sunday bulletins (I was also serving as a student pastor at the time) and went over them with me explaining the worship service. I just had to thank you for being the face of Christ for me. Because of you I accepted Christ into my life during my college years and then went on and served as a Youth Pastor for ten years. I just wanted you to know.”

I student taught in 1985. I am a second career person and went to college a little later in life. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After all these years, a student looked for me. At first I didn’t remember any of what he was saying. But as we talked my memory of him started to come back. He explained that he is now married and has three children and they are living in Glenshaw. I invited him to come to church, as I would love to meet him again. We ended our phone call with him saying, “Thank you again, Rev. Shuluga for taking the time for a little 3rd grader; it has made all the difference in my life.” I ended by saying, “Thank you for making my day, but it is God that you want to thank.”

After the phone call I sat and thought about what he said with a smile on my face. God had used me…even someone like me…in some small way to touch a young boy’s life. And then I became very troubled as I thought about those times when I know I had an opportunity to be the face, the hands, the feet of Christ but chose not to.

Bob is an example of how often we give very little thought to those lives around us that we touch. Sometimes we touch someone’s life for the better. But there are also those times when we have left scars rather than Christian love.

We are Easter people and the resurrection of the Christ not only means our victory over death but it also means we are to live resurrected lives. Paul reminds us in his letter to the Philippians… “Have this mind among yourselves which is yours in Christ Jesus…”

As Easter people we are to live resurrected lives by conforming our minds to that of Christ—not simply to imitate, but to have the living Christ come to life in us through the power of the Holy Spirit.

God condescended to become human; now God calls us to begin to live as a resurrected people.

May our Easter celebration be more than an event; may Easter become our way of living.

Easter Blessings,

Pastor Russel

Paul reminds us in his first letter to the Corinthians: “Do you know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you? For God’s temple is holy, and that temple you are” (1Corinthians 3: 16 & 17b). We are called to care for God’s temple. It is that calling that Sandra Lane gave birth to our new Health and Wellness Ministry. She continues to post helpful suggestions on the church Web page. She also coordinates monthly workshops and/or lectures on interesting and helpful topics so that we might not only be mindful of our bodies but that we might better care for our God given bodies.

One of our recent workshops for our Health and Wellness ministry was “line dancing”, taught by Lou Ann Scott. The response was so overwhelming we decided we would hold monthly line dancing lessons in the downstairs social hall.

I watch in awe at the number of people who are able to watch Lou Ann only once and are able to put it all together with such joy and rhythm. And then there is me. You have heard the term ‘two left feet?’ Just when I think I have it, Lou Ann turns on the music and my feet just don’t seem to do what my head is telling them to do. The good news is you don’t have a partner and you don’t have to worry about stepping on someone’s feet. (Sorry Sandra Dewitt. I have no idea how I managed to step on your foot and almost break your foot.) I struggle to relax and allow the rhythm to flow. (Is there any way we can slow the music down a bit?)

I have shared in the past how I enjoyed watching my parents dance. My mom could follow my father’s lead with such ease and grace. Their feet would just glide across the dance floor, swaying to the music. The two moved as one. My sister, Diana, was able to dance with our dad with the same kind of ease and rhythm as our mother. At a wedding reception, I once saw Diana dance to “Wipe Out”. I have no idea how she did that without dislocating her hip! I must have been in the other room when God was handing out rhythm.

Even though this dancing thing doesn’t seem to come naturally, I think I am seeing some small improvement as I stick to it and practice the dances over and over again. (Keep this just between us, this morning I was practicing a few of the steps in the hallway and I looked up and there was Louie standing at the top of the steps watching. I am sure he was shaking his head in disbelief wondering what my problem was. Now let’s see there is….the jazz box step, the shuffle, the fan, the Charleston step, kick ball change, left and right vine, heels and toes, the knee pops and you sway your hips. Then someone commented that Sandra Lane said, “Oh I have to see Russel do that!”

PRACTICE…PRACTICE…PRACTICE…PRACTICE…PRACTICE..

God invites us to join Him in a dance. And for many that dance doesn’t seem to come very naturally. There are some complicated and complex steps in God’s dance. Now let’s see, there is…

• You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul and with all your mind.
• You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
• Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.
• This I command you, to love one another.
• If you love me, you will keep my commandments.
• Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God, in Christ, forgave you.
• If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross.

All of those steps (and there are more…many more) don’t always come naturally; in fact, we struggle with many of these dance steps. We are not alone in our struggle. John Wesley, our founding father, struggled as well. On his journey to the colonies, the ship he boarded encountered a severe storm and he feared for his life. A group of Moravians was also on board and during the storm they peacefully sang hymns. That night John wrote in his journal, “I have come to save the Indians, but who will save me?” Even as an ordained priest, John Wesley struggled with his faith and his salvation. His good friend, Peter Bohler, told John: “Preach faith until you have it and because you have, you will preach faith.”

If we are to be good dancers we must persevere. We must not give up. We must practice again and again and again. If we are to be good and faithful Christians, it takes much perseverance. We must not give up. We must practice…practice…practice…until our Christ likeness comes naturally. I invite you to come and join our dance lessons. I will try not to step on your foot. The good news is no one is judgmental. Everyone is patient and kind. No one laughs at you. They are most helpful when you struggle. I invite you to come to worship, Bible study, Sunday School and other faith-enhancing opportunities where you will not have to worry about being judged or laughed at. It is a safe place, where we help each other when we struggle; when this faith thing seems not to come naturally. We pick each other up and we walk hand in hand, as we dance with God. The good news for us is when we stumble and fall, God’s grace is always sufficient.

Sydney Carter’s folk hymn, Lord of the Dance, written in 1963, is interpreted to be life lived in its fullest abundance, or as Carter defines it, “the image of all faith.” The stanzas choreograph the life of Christ, with the refrain inviting singers to “Dance then, where you may be.”

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.

I invite you to dance with me as God leads the way. And the dance goes on….

Blessings,
Pastor Russel

We do it every four years, at least those of us who have a driver’s license; we must go and get our picture taken for our driver’s license. It is my turn once again this year. In fact, I need to go this month. Now I don’t know why but I keep my outdated licenses. I was looking at my collection the other day and was quite surprised to see how much I change in looks in a four-year period. Yikes! I can only imagine what I will look like when I go for my picture in 2014.

Some say the older I get the more I look like my father. Some even say I walk just like him. Although I think I have mother’s temperament.

My mother has a couple of boxes filled with old pictures stored in a closet. In that box is a picture of my dad when he was about 4 or 5 years of age sitting on a pony dressed in a cowboy outfit. There is also in that box a picture of my brother about the same age sitting on a pony in a cowboy outfit. It is almost impossible to tell which one is my dad and which one is my brother.

Nancy has often said that she is startled in the morning when she looks in the mirror and sees her mother looking back. Our grandson Mac looks just like his mother and Amy looks just like me. Our Granddaughter Victoria looks just like her mother and Lee Ann looks just like Nancy. It will be interesting to see whom the two new grandbabies will look like.

Genetics are interesting…they dictate how we look and often our medical history. What about our mannerisms? Are they learned or genetic? Can we blame our behavior on our genes?

Who do you look like? Are you able to identify specific characteristics that you inherited?

“God spoke: ‘Let us make human beings in our image, make them reflecting our nature…’” (Genesis 1:26a The Message). Hmmm…. Does that mean God has gray hair and a white mustache?

Who do we look like? What is our nature? May we each strive for the same goal…. When others look at us they see the face of Christ! May others say I know who you belong to, I see the resemblance; you are a child of God.

May our prayer be the words found in Adelaide A. Pollard’s 1902 hymn, Have Thine Own Way, Lord:

Have thine own way, Lord! Have thine own way!
Thou art the potter; I am the clay.
Mold me and make me after thy will,
While I am waiting, yielded and still.

Have thine own way, Lord! Have thine own way!
Hold o’er my being absolute sway.
Fill with thy Spirit till all shall see
Christ only, always, living in me!

Blessings,

Pastor Russel…a forgiven and redeemed child of God.