Jerry's Blog

Count Your Blessings

2009-11-27T18:38:00.000-08:00

Last week, on the Sunday leading into the Thanksgiving holiday, I did something I haven’t done in years. I played my trombone and sang a solo at the church we attend. As you might imagine, it was a trip down memory lane.

As Loreen and I searched music books for something we had done before, we came across an old song called “Count Your Blessings.” The last verse, which I sang after playing the trombone, goes like this: So, amid the conflict, whether great or small – do not be discouraged, God is over all – Count your many blessings, angels will attend – help and comfort give you to your journey’s end.

Little did I know that angels were attending an old friend of mine at that very moment. I knew that he was ill. In fact, we would call it a “terminal” illness. However, the end came more quickly than I expected.

Lee Dice was a pastor senior to me. Together with other pastors in the state of Indiana, he asked me to initiate a new church in Indianapolis. We began the fall of 1965 with nothing more than a list of prospects. Sixteen churches supported us with prayer and gifts. Lee was the pastor of one of those churches, the church in Flora, Indiana.

Two years later, Lee left Flora to become the pastor of the Third Brethren Church in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The church we started in Indianapolis continued to grow. Since it was nearly ready to be self supporting, no longer needing support from the Indiana churches, I took the challenge of a new church in Lititz, Pennsylvania. Imagine my surprise and gratitude when Lee returned from Philadelphia to be the pastor of the Grace Brethren Church of Indianapolis.

The story isn’t over. In 1995, Lee became the Executive Secretary of the Association of Grace Brethren Ministers. Eight years later, he and the officers of the Association asked me to design a new structure that would deliver more encouragement and assistance to our members. In 2005, as that structure developed, Lee resigned from his role as Executive Secretary. I inherited some of his duties, and was later named the Ministry Director.

The crossing of our paths is not without significance. There is a personal God, and he is at work in our lives. I could not have designed and orchestrated the way Lee and I played tag with each other in our service for the Lord.

Lee reached the end of his journey only to begin another, one far more glorious. It began with Thanksgiving dinner in heaven. What a way to begin!

When I count my blessings, Lee Dice is among them.

So Far, So Good!

2009-04-13T13:16:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite stories is about a man who fell from a tall building. As he passed an open window about five stories up, someone inside heard him call out, “So far, so good!”

I used to tell that story when people around me were enthusiastic about their progress. Current returns are no guarantee of future results. Isn’t that something we read on stock offerings? We should pay more attention.

It was an article in USA Today that reminded me of the story, and it has been in my mind all week long. The newspaper runs a feature on religion every Monday, and last week the editor chose an atheist to write something. That was an interesting choice in itself, since it was the week Christians remember the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The article was entitled, “No religion? No problem.” When I finished reading, I added one more phrase: NOT YET.

In the article, the author was delighted that a growing number of Americans no longer identify with a particular religion. The results of a recent survey seem to indicate that 20% of the population has no religious affiliation. From that finding, she assumes that only 80% believe in a supernatural being. That’s quite a leap in logic, which is somewhat akin to a leap of faith.

Actually, I imagine that many Christians could identify themselves as irreligious. I know that I do. I am a follower of Jesus, not a particular religious “brand.” In this, I identify quite well with a man named Paul, an Apostle of Jesus Christ. Paul wrote most of what we know as the New Testament.

Paul encountered a lot of religion in the Greco-Roman world of the first century after Christ. One of his encounters is recorded in the book of Acts, chapter 17. He compliments the Athenians for being very religious, but warns them that religion is not sufficient. In fact, religion can actually reinforce ignorance.

“In the past,” Paul says to them, “God overlooked such ignorance, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent. For he has set a day when he will judge the world with justice by the man he has appointed. He has given proof of this to all men by raising him from the dead.”

God has set a day, and all of us are falling toward it. He will not judge us on the basis of our religious affiliation, but on the basis of our relationship with Jesus Christ. The resurrection proves it.

To smug religionists and atheists alike, I have this advice from Psalm 2:
“Kiss the Son, lest he be angry and you be destroyed in your way, for his wrath can flare up in a moment. Blessed are all who take refuge in him.”

Preparation Matters

2009-02-17T19:34:00.000-08:00

In recent years, I have watched with surprise and dismay as training and experience lost value in American culture. As a minister, I noticed it first among younger Christians. They wanted to be popular musicians without musical training. They wanted to go on mission trips to foreign countries without knowing the language. They wanted to be pastors without formal education or professional validation.

Christians are part of a wider culture. Generally speaking, Americans have lost their appreciation for those who “pay their dues” through years of preparation and hard experience. Examples abound, but the most current illustration is the presidential campaign. We just elected a President who is lacking in significant political experience, and we are told that his inexperience is actually an advantage.

With these thoughts swirling in my mind, I was deeply impressed by the testimony of Chelsy Sullenberger. You may recall that “Sully” was the pilot of US Airways flight 1549. He managed to land his disabled aircraft in the Hudson River and became an instant hero. Not a single life was lost. “I was sure I could do it,” Sully said. “I think, in many ways, as it turned out, my entire life up to that moment had been a preparation for that particular moment.”

I wanted to shout. The culture is blind and deaf to his wisdom, but some of us know exactly what Sully is talking about. I remembered similar words from a coach many years ago. One of his student athletes confidently talked about winning the next game. “We’re gonna win, coach,” he said, “Because we have the will to win.” “That’s not good enough,” the coach replied. “You must have the will to prepare to win.”

Those who eschew preparation may find that they are unequal to the task when their big moment arrives. They would do well to consider the life of Jesus. He didn’t begin his public ministry until he was about thirty years of age. Do you suppose he prepared? When the moment came, he was ready.

What Christmas Means To Me

2008-12-26T12:24:00.000-08:00

Like any other holiday, the Christmas season means different things to different people.

For most of my life, I didn’t pay much attention to this simple observation. There was a time when Americans enjoyed the season without picking on each other. We put up Christmas trees, sent greeting cards, took the kids to see Santa Claus, and listened to Christmas music of all kinds. Christians and non-Christians alike joined in the festivities. We all put up with each other. Then something happened.

The anti-Christian crowd didn’t want us to call it “Christmas” anymore. Pressure was brought to bear on sales clerks to say “Happy Holidays” rather than “Merry Christmas.” Religious displays on public property were outlawed. School programs were emptied of any references to Christmas.

A couple of weeks ago, when the annual dispute over Christmas erupted once more in the public media, I gave it a second thought. It wasn’t the story about the atheist proclamation in the Washington State House that pushed me over the edge. It was the latest survey from the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life.

The survey found that most Christians in America no longer believe Christ is the only way to God. The figures released by the Pew Forum indicate that 75% of “mainline Protestants” and 85% of “non-Hispanic white Catholics” believe salvation can be found elsewhere. Even 34% of “white evangelicals” chose at least one non-Christian religion that could bring peace with God. What do these figures mean?

There are two possibilities. Either Christians do not understand the Christmas story, or they have rejected it as true history. Did Mary receive a message from the angel Gabriel about the birth of Jesus? Did the angel say that her child would be supernaturally conceived and called the Son of God? Did the angels sing to shepherds on the night Jesus was born? Did they call him “Christ, the Lord?” These are words of deity.

The Christmas story tells us that God became a man. He became a man so that he could open a way to God through his flesh, a way that we could not create for ourselves. That’s why the angel said to the shepherds, “I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.” Jesus is not simply one of many ways to God. He is THE way to God. To say otherwise is to either misunderstand or disbelieve the story.

I think professing Christians have rolled over and played dead on this one. In the interest of “tolerance,” many have surrendered the “birth of Christ” meaning of Christmas. They don’t need to do that. In fact, they shouldn’t do that. Toleration has nothing to do with giving up your beliefs. It has to do with accepting those who see things differently.

So I accept other meanings of the Christmas season. Just don’t ask me to give up the meaning that matters most to me.

Don't Take Anything for Granted

2008-10-02T21:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning, while enjoying the early morning sunshine from my patio, I heard the tack-tack-tack of a power nailer across the way. New homes are going up, I thought, and a roofer is already hard at work. Tack-tack-tack. He was moving fast. Suddenly, there was a scream. The nailing stopped.

I imagined what must have happened. The roofer put a tack through his foot, or maybe his hand. I did my morning exercises, and kept listening. No more sounds. No emergency vehicle. No cars or trucks driving out of the area. Maybe my assumption was wrong. Perhaps there was another explanation for what I heard.

Imagination drives assumptions. On the basis of available evidence, we fill in the blanks with our imagination, and voila! We have an explanation. Or do we? All of us make assumptions. As a Pastor, I made plenty of them. It was embarrassing. Scientists make assumptions, especially in regard to origins. This week, politicians are telling us that 700 billion dollars will “rescue” America’s economy. Now, there’s an assumption if I ever heard one. If I learned anything in 40 years of ministry, it is Don’t Take Anything for Granted.

That’s the motivation behind a trip we are taking tomorrow. Loreen and I are flying from Tucson to Los Angeles, renting a car, and driving to Seal Beach, California. At nine o’clock on Saturday morning, I will join a group of ordained ministers to examine a candidate for ministry as an Army Chaplain.

I have met the candidate. He is an officer in the Army Reserve. I read his pre-exam application. I liked his answers. But that isn’t enough. Our imagination can create assumptions. So, we are going to sit together and have free-ranging discussions about his call to ministry. We will ask questions about his beliefs. We want to be sure. None of us should take anything for granted.

We expect the candidate to do well in this examination. If there were any doubt about that, I wouldn’t invest the time and money to make this trip. But that’s an assumption. Our task is to reduce the number of assumptions on which we depend before approving people for ministry.

On Monday morning, I expect to be on my patio again. I look forward to soaking up the rays of the morning sun. That’s an assumption. It’s based on sound evidence, but I am governed by a higher rule. Don’t Take Anything for Granted.

Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.” As it is, you boast and brag. All such boasting is evil. (James 4:13-16)

A Full Summer, Nearly Gone

2008-08-16T07:06:00.000-07:00

The calendar in my computer announces that today is August 15. For us, a summer of travel is nearly over. It hardly seems possible. The older I get, the faster time flies.

Two months have passed since I last wrote about our travels. We have visited pastors and their wives from Texas to South Carolina and Maryland to Iowa. Somewhere in the middle, we attended the conference of Grace Brethren churches in Florida. It proved to be another great opportunity to meet with pastors and their wives.

We also had the privilege of helping to qualify two men for ministry as Army Chaplains. In cooperation with John Schumacher, Chaplain Endorsing Agent for the Fellowship of Grace Brethren Churches, I gathered a group of pastors to serve as an examining committee. The first candidate was John Jacobsen, recommended to us by the Grace Brethren Church in Beaver City, Nebraska. The second candidate was Peter Stone, recommended to us by the Fountain of Life Bible Church in Johnson City, Tennessee. Both men did extremely well in their examinations, and we expect them to do very well in their ministry to soldiers.

Of course, our time in Pennsylvania was the most enjoyable of all. Our children and grandchildren are in Lancaster County, and we carved out lots of time for them. We also visited with friends who were our companions in ministry at Grace Church in Lititz. Pastor Scott Distler invited me to preach one Sunday, and that is always a privilege. However, I can honestly say that I am glad not to be preaching two sermons on Sunday morning anymore.

Today is our last day in Iowa. We have an appointment with Gary and Jean Austin in Cedar Rapids this noon. Gary has been challenged with cancer the last couple of years, so your prayer for them would be greatly appreciated. Sometime this afternoon, we will hook up our fifth wheel RV and drive through Waterloo. We want to see friends while driving through, but we expect to drive to the edge of Iowa this evening. We’ll sleep along the way, and find ourselves well into South Dakota by tomorrow night.

Thank you for thinking of us, and praying for our safety in travel. The Lord has been gracious, and he leads the way. We are hoping to see some beautiful scenery in Wyoming before turning south through Utah. By the end of August, we should be in Arizona.

A full summer, nearly gone.

A Special Story

2008-06-11T18:04:00.000-07:00

One day this week, I watched a television program which insisted that evolution is a scientific fact and Christians who object to the idea are ignorant bigots. The narrator of the program announced that, among all the animals on the planet, “Human beings are nothing special.” Hmmmm.

I had an experience this week which convinced me human beings are not only special, but also the angels of God are watching over us with special care. Here is my story.

Two weeks ago, my wife and I left Tucson, Arizona for travel among the pastors and churches of the Grace Brethren Fellowship. We drove for two days across New Mexico and Texas, a very hot trip indeed. We visited the Grace Brethren Church in Longview, Texas on June 1st and did our best to encourage the leaders there. We were able to spend time with John Mayes and Vernon and Glyn Harris, two retired pastors and pastor’s wife.

Our next stop was Atlanta, Georgia, where we enjoyed fellowship with Jim and Wanda Laird and Bill and Betty Byers. We heard exciting stories of what the Lord may have in store for them and the church. After watching the children gather for their Vacation Bible School, we drove a few miles north to an RV park for the night. Our goal was to drive to Aiken, South Carolina the next day.

Bright and early on Thursday morning, we got the rig ready and entered the truck. I turned the key. Nothing happened. I called Good Sam emergency road service. To make a long story short, the truck was picked up and transported to a Ford garage in Cartersville, Georgia. The next day, the garage called to say that two new batteries were installed, but they found another problem. The trailer brake control was totally dead. We had to wait until Monday before they could do any more for us.

We were devastated. Not only was a big bill on the way, but also our plan to visit pastors and pastors’ wives was in jeopardy. I began wondering how we could arrive in Pennsylvania by Father’s Day to attend the wedding of our son. It took an entire weekend of prayer and thinking before I understood how special we are.

We could have been stranded along a remote section of Georgia highway. Instead, our trailer sat in a beautiful park beside Alatoona Lake. Loreen’s sister Elva and her husband Jack live in Cartersville. They picked us up and drove us around. The brake controller could have failed while driving down a long hill, or in traffic through Atlanta. Instead, it failed while the truck sat still, unable to move. Imagine that.

We lost five days. We could have lost our lives. The Lord had a better plan. He stranded us in a beautiful park within a few miles of Elva and Jack. A new part from Detroit could have taken two days. Instead, a part was found, delivered, and installed within five hours. We got acquainted with the owner of the Ford dealership and spoke with him about the Lord. Imagine that.

Luck, you say? Hmmmm.

We are on our way again. We stopped through Aiken yesterday, had lunch with Steve and Pat Taylor, and continued driving north. Tonight, we are parked just inside Virginia. Losing five days means that our plan to visit pastors and churches on our way north is seriously altered. However, I am confident that the angels of God are watching over me.

That’s special.

Coming Your Way

2008-04-28T21:18:00.000-07:00

In 2002, my wife and I announced that two years hence we would retire from our roles as Pastor and Pastor’s Wife at Grace Church in Lititz, Pennsylvania.

As you might imagine, all of us – including the hundreds who attended our church – were in great confusion as we considered what God may have in store for us. After all, we had served the Lititz congregation more than 30 years. Loreen and I spent lots of time before the Throne of Grace asking God to lead us into a future unknown.

Part of the answer was already in our hearts. I had long dreamed of writing books and articles that would be helpful to ordinary followers of Jesus – the same kind of people I had been feeding and leading for years. However, I also knew that Loreen and I were well suited for a ministry of encouragement to pastors and their wives. We gave ourselves to the Lord for that purpose.

In 2004, we emptied our savings account and bought an RV rig consisting of a truck and fifth wheel trailer. Every summer, we travel through the country visiting pastors and their wives. We especially focus on small places, going out of our way to find people who may feel out of touch or forgotten. We have visited churches and their pastors in Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, Arizona, California, Oregon, Washington, Michigan, Indiana, Ohio, and Pennsylvania.

This is our fourth summer to travel in this manner. We expect to leave Saddlebrooke, Arizona the last week of May and not return until the first week of September. Our plan is to travel through Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama before turning north along the Great Smoky Mountains. We must arrive in Pennsylvania by Father’s Day because our son is to be married that day.

I usually send e-mail messages ahead wherever we go. If you should find a message in your box entitled “coming your way,” you will know what it means. If your schedule allows, we may have an opportunity for fellowship. Loreen and I enjoy taking pastors and their wives out for lunch or dinner. If it’s a weekend, I may even visit your worship service and hear you preach. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

Diesel fuel is rather expensive these days. If we have any prayer request beyond safety on the road, it would be for God to furnish the money we need to buy fuel. Of course, we expect him to supply our needs since he is the one who pressed us into service. However, we invite you to be our partners in ministry. Please pray for us. Thank you!

To See Or Not To See

2008-01-26T13:58:00.000-08:00

Shakespeare said it another way, of course. Hamlet, Act 3, scene 1: “To be or not to be, that is the question.” These are probably the best-known lines in English literature. I read something in the newspaper this week that made me think of phrasing them differently. Victor Stenger was coming to town.

You may not have heard of Victor, but lots of people have. He is the author of the 2007 New York Times bestselling book, “God: The Failed Hypothesis - How Science Shows that God Does Not Exist.” Hmmmm. I wondered how a very bright, intelligent person could fail to see what others see. After all, Dr. Stenger is an emeritus professor of physics at the University of Hawaii. Of course, he is also an adjunct professor of philosophy at the University of Colorado. Maybe that explains it.

Dinesh D’Souza has reminded us that “Science is based on an assumption that is, at root, faith-based and theological. That is the assumption that the universe is rational and follows laws that are discoverable through human reason.” Christians were the first to envision the universe in this way. They discovered that the laws which govern the universe seem to be written in the language of mathematics – something one physicist called “a kind of miracle.” Who made these laws?

The newspaper reported that the Southern Arizona Community of the Center for Inquiry was the sponsor of Victor Stenger’s free lecture. Its stated aim is “defending reason, science, freedom of inquiry and alternative ethical values in all areas of human endeavor.” Aha! The last phrase gave it all away. Now I understand why a very bright, intelligent person wants to establish the non-existence of God. All sorts of “alternative ethical values” become available when God is out of the picture.

I remember a conversation I had with a young man some forty years ago. He was a professed agnostic who wanted to be an atheist. When I asked him why he wanted to be an atheist, he responded, “Because if there is a God, then I will have to answer to Him.” Now, there is an honest answer. You see, the same God who made physical laws to govern the universe also made moral laws to govern our relationship with Him. Those laws are written on our hearts.

Hamlet’s soliloquy which begins with “To be or not to be” is filled with fears of the hereafter. He recognizes that “conscience does make cowards of us all.” I have a suggestion to make. Atheists are like little boys whistling in the dark. They are trying to keep up their courage. We need to tell them that light is available.

To see or not to see, that is the question.

Is God Hiding?

2007-11-27T08:18:00.000-08:00

In times of trouble, it certainly seems that way. Believers and unbelievers alike wonder about God when bad things happen.

In the Bible, one often finds the complaint that the Divine Presence has taken a leave of absence. One of my favorites is found in Isaiah 45. The prophet makes a declarative statement about God in verse 15: “Truly you are a God who hides himself, O God and Savior of Israel.” Saviors don’t hide, do they? They’re supposed to be heroes, showing up to save people when all seems lost.

I know. The Bible also says that the heavens declare the glory of God. There are signs of the Creator all around me. Isaiah’s complaint – and mine – is that God seems curiously absent when the human experience goes south. The Creation does not have a personal quality. Primitive religions try to make it personal, but they only end up with superstition. Not real help.

As I thought about this, a story appeared in the Arizona Daily Star about a wounded veteran. It was November 11, so the paper was filled with stories of Americans who gave their lives in the defense of freedom. The story that caught my eye was headlined “Viet vet’s bride never wavered from his side.” Johnny and Flora Brooks were married just before he went to Viet Nam. On November 15, 1969, twenty-year-old Flora learned from a telegram that her Johnny was wounded in action. The paper reported that Johnny returned home without a leg and soon lost the other, along with his ability to speak and the use of his arms.

Flora loves Johnny. Even though his brain injury does not allow him to communicate beyond eye contact, Flora says she shares a rich full life with her husband. She reads Scripture to him, buys DVDs for them to watch together, and talks to him. “I’m way thankful,” she said. “I’m the one that’s still saying ‘Please God, please God, don’t take him yet.’”

It suddenly dawned on me. In my communication with God, I’m a lot like Johnny. I’m the injured one. He's the one who loves and cares for me, even though I struggle to respond. Maybe God orchestrated the story of Johnny and Flora to show others what He is like. The heavens declare the glory of God; so do people, when they behave like Him.

By nature, I am a skeptic. I can easily identify with Philip, the disciple of Jesus who said, “Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us.” Give us some proof – as though our weak eyes and puny brains and defective thought processes are worthy of such proof.

Jesus said, “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father (John 14:8-9).” Jesus claimed to be God incarnate. Anyone who wants to see God should look at Jesus.

God is not hiding. We are.

How Much Does It Take?

2007-09-26T15:01:00.000-07:00

Every year about this time, Forbes magazine releases a list of the 400 richest people in America. Perhaps you have seen it. This was a special year, because the Forbes list is celebrating its 25th anniversary.

It was a special year for another reason. For the first time, 82 billionaires didn’t make the cut. That’s right. 82. Last year, they would have made it. This year, it took at least 1.3 billion dollars to make the “Forbes 400.” I feel sorry for them. I think.

I noticed something else. Forbes explained why some rich people fell off the list. They gave lots of money away. The founder of Domino’s Pizza fell off in 1999. His current net worth is $600 million after giving away $600 million. Another person fell off the list in 2001 after giving away $650 million. There were others. Forbes called them “Selfless.” I call them wise, but only partly so. After all, how much money does it take to live really well?

According to a story from the Bible (Mark 12:41-44), Jesus sat in the Temple and watched people put money into the treasury. Many who were rich put in large amounts. Then one poor widow came by and put in two little coins, the smallest currency available. Jesus noticed. He called his disciples together and said to them, “I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.”

I’m embarrassed every time I read that story. When it comes to money, most of us are hypocrites and thieves. We pretend to give selflessly to God, but we spend most of our money on personal desires. As a Pastor, I was astounded at how easily I could anger people by asking them to tithe. That’s only ten percent of our wealth. Actually, we ought to do better than that.

The way to do better is to start admitting that everything we have belongs to God. Our bodies belong to God. The air we breathe belongs to God. The talents we have come from him. The wealth we earn is produced in a world that belongs to the Creator. He gives everything. He wants us to do the same.

In my view, this is the missing piece in the ongoing conflict between Creationists and Evolutionists. If there is a Creator, then the world belongs to Him—including my pocket book. We should check the giving records of Creationists and find out how serious they really are.

We might be surprised.

Coming Your Way

2007-08-13T13:26:00.000-07:00

During the winter of 2004, Loreen and I emptied our savings account at the Investment Foundation and bought an RV consisting of a truck and a fifth wheel trailer. We believed that God was calling us into a ministry of encouragement among Grace Brethren pastors and their wives. Since then, we have traveled 19,600 miles across 23 states to do what we believed God wanted us to do. That accounts only for truck and trailer travel, not what we do through the air.

In January and February, we traveled to the Southwest Focus Retreat in California and the South Focus Retreat in Florida. In April, we traveled to Winona Lake, Indiana and Lititz, Pennsylvania. The Indiana trip was mostly business – though it did provide an opportunity to visit my 91-year-old mother. She was a pastor’s wife for ten years until my father went to be with the Lord in 1963.

The Pennsylvania trip was mostly for fun and family, though I did have an opportunity to preach at Grace Church and visit the ministry staff. To be honest, the real reason for the trip was to visit our children and grandchildren.

By the time you read this page, we will be well on our way into another summer of travel. We traveled from Tucson through Albuquerque and Taos. We also visited Colorado Springs and Denver before turning east through Nebraska and Iowa. We haven’t seen pastors and their wives in these near and mid-western states since 2004.

If our plan holds, we should travel through Indiana the third week of June, Ohio the fourth week of June, and Pennsylvania the first week of July.

The fourth week of July will find us traveling back to Winona Lake for AGBM meetings and Equip07. It is our habit to park the trailer at the back of the old missions building – which now belongs to the Grace Brethren Investment Foundation. After conference is completed, we will drive back to Pennsylvania for one last visit with our family. It will be “the last hurrah” with our grandchildren before school starts. Sometime toward the end of August, we begin the long trip back to Tucson.

I usually send e-mail messages ahead wherever we go. If you should find a message in your box entitled “coming your way,” you will know what it means. Sometimes our schedules mesh, and we have an opportunity for fellowship. If it’s a weekend, I may even visit your worship service and hear you preach. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

In Memory of Stephen Lee Young

2007-05-21T19:06:00.000-07:00

James and Edith Young were granted six children, all of them special gifts from God. However, there were two separate families. Three children came before James and Edith gave their hearts to Christ. James Byron was the first born. Kay and Jerry followed to complete the family. No more children were anticipated.

But God had other plans. He called James and Edith to put their faith in Christ. Their lives were radically changed, and God gave them a second family. Stephen was the first born. Edna and Rebecca followed to complete the family.

Believing that God was calling him to the Christian ministry, our father received basic Bible training at Moody Bible Institute. He became a pastor at the age of 40. Steve remembers giving his heart to Christ at the age of 9 after hearing dad preach at a small country church in Kansas. Our father later served two churches in Ohio, and Steve eventually graduated from Norwayne High School in Creston, Ohio.

The first family hardly left the nest before our father went home to be with Jesus. He was only 50 years old, and he left behind the second family. Stephen was 17, a junior in high school. Edna was 13 and Becky was 8. Edna and Becky remember that Steve was their hero. He was smart, handsome, popular at school, captain of the football team, president of his class. He encouraged them. He counseled them. They looked up to him.

So did mom. She brought all her important decisions to Steve for advice. He was wise for his years, and she appreciated his counsel. When Steve graduated from high school, the four of them moved to Winona Lake, Indiana, where Grace College is located. Steve became a college student. Officially, mom went to work in the snack bar at the college. Unofficially, she became the “mother in residence.” While at Grace, Steve was active in music and theater productions. He was also elected student body president by his fellow students.

James and Edith came from humble circumstances. They knew what it meant to go without the finer things of life. In the spirit of Christ, they chose to give their lives away for others. Stephen embodies the principles he learned from them. Others can testify that Steve never bragged about his education or his accomplishments. He was a humble man who always had time for others – especially those less privileged than he. He gave himself away.

For those of us who knew him well, the opportunity to work at Denver Seminary seemed like a dream come true. Stephen was unusually gifted and experienced as a leader, and he loved to teach. How surprised we were to hear that – after such a short time – God had other plans.
Thank you, Stephen. We saw the face of Jesus in your life, especially as he prepared you for your journey home. The words of the Apostle Paul came true for you.

“Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” (2 Cor. 4:16-18 NIV)

Goodbye brother. Welcome home.

Some Things Matter and Some Things Don't

2007-03-31T20:05:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite stories is about a man from Pennsylvania who took a road trip into New England. He entered Vermont on an interstate highway, but soon decided to leave it and drive west toward the mountains. As he drove through the countryside, he came to a fork in the road – with no signs. Not being sure which road to take, he drove back to the nearest house. An old man answered his knock at the door. Pointing down the road, he asked, “Does it matter which road I take to get to the Green Mountains?” The old Vermonter squinted down the road and replied, “Not to me it don’t.”

One of the more important lessons I learned in life is that some things matter and some things don’t. My natural tendency is to make everything matter. Somewhere along the line, I awakened to the fact that deciding what not to do was just as important as deciding what to do.

What standards should govern these decisions? How do I decide which things to let go, and which things to pursue? Ah, that’s the tough part. Here is where I sometimes fail.

The Pennsylvania Dutch have a saying: “We get too soon old and too late smart.” It’s true, you know. I think my life was at least half over before the light came on. My relationship with God matters. So does my relationship with people. Everything I choose to do should be measured against these two standards. They represent the most important things of all. How did Jesus summarize the Law?

Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. (Matthew 22:37-40, KJV)

Last fall, my younger brother informed us that he was very ill. Subsequent tests revealed that he is suffering from cancer. Rigorous rounds of chemotherapy were indicated. For Steve and his family, things that matter have become crystal clear.

Last month, my mother nearly died from congestive heart failure. The doctor installed a pacemaker, and she is doing rather well. However, she is 91 years old. We all know that her time on earth is nearing a close.

What do we say to these things? Some things matter and some things don’t. At this time in my family, our relationship with God is of supreme importance. Our relationship with each other is deeply prized. Other things matter, but not nearly so much as these.

Making Big Things Small

2007-02-03T12:38:00.000-08:00

I bought a new computer two weeks ago. It’s an Apple, not a PC. Have you seen the television commercials? Then you know what I’m talking about. I bought it for Loreen to use. I decided that she depended too much on my limited skills and she needed a whole new approach. The deal included 50 lessons. She is on her way.

I was amazed that all the computing power of her Apple fits inside the monitor. There is no separate box. Furthermore, a little square spot at the top of the monitor can snap her picture and send it into cyberspace. She can also make a video of herself at the computer. All I brought home was the 17 inch monitor, a keyboard and a mouse. Is that small, or what?

As I thought about how good we are at making big things small and small things big, I remembered an article I read recently about Norman Mailer. He’s the famous writer who wrote several novels about World War II. His very first, written at age 26, was entitled The Naked and the Dead. Mr. Mailer has just written another novel about the War. This one is called The Castle in the Forest.

In the interview that I read, Norman Mailer is quoted as saying, “I do believe that there is a creator. But I don’t believe that God is all good or all powerful. I believe that he or she is doing what he or she can, against some large odds.”

Let’s see. That makes God like us, right? We are men and women doing the best we can against large odds. In less than 40 words, Mr. Mailer made someone very big, very small. If God is like me, then I don’t need him. Furthermore, I should work harder at removing the “large odds” standing in God’s way. Let’s all pitch in and give God a hand.

As I thought about this, I realized that many of us who profess faith in Christ share Norman Mailer’s theology. We carry the attitude that God cannot do certain things unless we do something first. If we behave as we ought, then God is able to bless us with health and happiness. If we witness as we ought, then God is able to save people. If we pray for missionaries, then God is able to bless their work. If we work harder and smarter, then God is able to make our churches grow.

Sorry, folks, but I must stand against the idea that God is unable to act independently without my cooperation. Jesus chided the people of his day because they made God small. He reminded them that God was so good and so great that he even numbered the hairs on their heads. “Don’t worry,” he said. God not only cares for us, he is able to do “immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine.” (Ephesians 3:20)

I’m glad that God isn’t limited by my efforts. I refuse to make myself bigger than I am or God smaller than he is.

Lazy J Ranch

2007-01-18T11:04:00.000-08:00

My wife picked it out. The wallpaper, that is. Dark blue in color, it has a western theme with light brown lassos printed here and there. However, it’s the border at the top that really matters to her. Among the cowboy hats and horseshoes may be found several old-fashioned placards which boldly read, “Lazy J Ranch.” Since my name is Jerry, you can guess the rest.

OK. I’ll accept that – with a wry grin of course. Since I retired as Senior Pastor of Grace Church in Lititz, Pennsylvania, my frenetic pace has been seriously reduced. Every day feels like a day off. I now have time to read the morning paper and drink a second cup of coffee. That’s nice.

I have been especially lazy during the fall and winter months. Those of you who look for words of wisdom from me via the internet have been disappointed. Alright, you wags – “words of wisdom” may be a stretch. Seriously, I apologize to those of you who are disappointed by my silence.

A slight correction may be in order here. I wasn’t entirely lazy. Several days were given to the Association of Grace Brethren Ministers. I am their go-to guy for research and development, and the fall was very busy. It included a trip to Winona Lake, Indiana. I also squeezed in a meeting with the Grace Brethren Investment Foundation in Raleigh, North Carolina (I’m a member of the Board of Directors).

Trips to visit family members also dominated the fall landscape. Our fourth grandchild was born to Janae and Eric Goodwyn on October 12. We drove to California the day after he was born and spent a week at their home in Hemet. We also flew to Pennsylvania in November for Thanksgiving, and again in December for Christmas. I guess I’m not so lazy after all, huh?

It isn’t a new year’s resolution, but I promise to write more in the next three months than I have in the last three months. Except for trips to California at the end of January and Florida at the end of February, the beginning of 2007 should be somewhat quiet. I hope.

Fortunately, the Lazy J wallpaper is used only in the laundry room. I don’t see it very often. Otherwise, I might be unduly encouraged to loaf. I have enough encouragement as it is.

I’m especially encouraged that God is at work all the time behind the scenes. Jesus said that the Father cares about the smallest details of life on earth. I think that includes my life. He is at work on my behalf – even when I don’t know enough to ask for help. I want to write about that next week.

I’ll try not to look at the wallpaper.

Knocking Down Straw Men

2006-09-29T21:06:00.000-07:00

The Arizona Daily Star ran a series of articles last week opposing Republican proposals to secure the border against illegal immigration. A team of reporters and photo journalists actually traveled both sides of the border with Mexico to develop stories. The Star called it “investigative journalism.” Actually, their minds were made up before they investigated, but that’s a separate question.

What interested me were the arguments set forward against sealing the border. They all took the form of straw men. The lead article laid them out: “Canyons, rivers and shifting sand—plus a multibillion-dollar price tag, more violence and less business—make sealing the border all but impossible.”

A straw man argument seeks to divert attention from the main issue. It also initiates ideas that seem to make the main issue irrelevant.

As a pastor who often introduced people to the good news about Jesus, I became very familiar with straw man arguments. One of the more common diversions came in the form of a question. “Where did Adam get his wife?” Sometimes they were simple statements. “I don’t believe the Bible.” “I’m an agnostic.”

Early on, I learned how to circumvent straw men and lead conversations back to the main issue. Straw man arguments are not without merit. They need to be respected and answered. However, they are diversions from primary questions. How does one find peace with God? On what basis may I seek forgiveness? What should I say when I stand before God?

When I began to teach others how to share their faith, I taught them to recognize straw men. I taught them how to respond in an appropriate manner. I encouraged them to “keep the main thing, the main thing,” not only in their conversations with others, but also in their own lives.

So, what do I think about a fence along the border with Mexico? Will it work? For those who want to cross without our permission, probably not. However, is that the main issue? Locks on the doors of my house can’t keep out thieves, either. I lock them anyway. I have a responsibility to do my part. So does America.

Back Home Again

2006-09-11T16:02:00.000-07:00

When I was young, my parents hardly ever left the state of Indiana. On those rare occasions when we traveled across state lines, we always celebrated our return. My father’s rich baritone voice would lead us in singing “Back Home Again in Indiana.” It became a tradition for us. As the sign for Indiana came into view, we knew what to do.

Sixty years later, I still sing that song when I drive into Indiana.

Arizona doesn’t have a song like that, but it sure is nice to be home again. After traveling for twelve weeks and crossing 23 state lines, we finally arrived in Tucson the last day of August. Loreen and I unloaded the trailer in 24 hours and then collapsed. For the time being, we would rather not go anyplace or do anything.

The drive from Pennsylvania to Arizona consumed twelve days because we stopped four times. The first was a pause in Winona Lake, Indiana to visit my mother and do more work for the Association of Grace Brethren Ministers. The second was a “pit stop” at Middlebury, Indiana for maintenance on the trailer. The third was a visit to our friends in Arkansas, David and Cindy Frederick.

Dave and Cindy live in Lititz, Pennsylvania, but they were “home” in Arkansas for a couple of weeks. Dave talked so much about the family farm in Tollville that I had to see it for myself. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t fibbing. He wasn’t. It really is a rice farm, and it really is in the middle of nowhere.

Loreen called David on his cell phone when we arrived at their back door. When he and Cindy came out, they gave both gave us big hugs. Unfortunately, the commotion bothered a nest of bees nearby, and they attacked Cindy and me just as we embraced. Needless to say, it made for a short hug. It also made for a trip to the store where David purchased a weapon in a can. The bees no longer have a home. They should have left us alone.

Albuquerque was our fourth and final stop. We wanted to see the Native New Life Church where Arnold Betony is Pastor. We had a great lunch with Arnold and his wife Bessie. We also visited their home and met several of their children. Before leaving town, we squeezed in a visit to Andy Moyer’s home as well. Andy is the Associate Pastor of Native New Life.

Homes are precious to us. As I write this article, I am reminded that today is September 11. Five years ago, Islamic radicals attacked America. Like the bees in Arkansas, they should have left us alone. Americans are now aroused, because people are precious to us. We dedicate ourselves to loving and protecting them against all odds.

Home, sweet home.

Wild and Free

2006-07-26T17:51:00.000-07:00

The first week of June, we went wild and free. Loreen and I drove the trailer to our house in Tucson, packed it with everything we needed for the summer, and lit out for California.

We spent the first night in the San Jacinto mountains. Cool. The next day, we celebrated our 44th wedding anniversary in Hemet – which is not exactly an international destination. However, our daughter Janae lives in Hemet, which makes it special. She joined us for dinner. Her husband Eric, who serves on the local police force, was off chasing thieves. He missed dinner, but we were able to see him on the weekend. (Janae is expecting our fourth grandchild in October.)

Leaving our family behind, we drove the length of California into Oregon and Washington, visiting pastors and their wives all the way. We had breakfast, lunch or dinner with sixteen pastors, twelve of them with their wives. What great times we had! We also had the privilege of attending four church services along the way.

We drove into Montana at the end of June to visit Glacier Park. A helicopter ride across the mountains was the highlight of our visit. It was expensive, but well worth the money. After Glacier, we dropped down into Idaho to see friends from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania who now operate a “working ranch” near Mackay.

Leaving Idaho, we continued driving east through Montana and North Dakota, which is more remote and beautiful than some people realize. The Midwestern plains end in Minnesota, and that’s where we found the headwaters of the Mississippi. We spent a full day at Itasca State Park.

Driving to Itasca, we found a sign along the road that pointed to the “Rice Free Lutheran Church.” Loreen wondered aloud what these Lutherans had against rice. I thought for a moment. Remembering that rice grew wild along the roads and lakes of northern Minnesota, I suggested that perhaps the word “Free” went with “Lutheran,” not with “Rice.” Naturally, I found other associations as well.

Growing wild carries the idea of unfettered freedom. In my experience, freedom without restriction is self destructive. This summer, Loreen and I cut loose from our place in Arizona and traveled the country. Others marveled at our plans and wished they, too, could be so free. Our freedom, however, is not without boundaries. We are hemmed in by all sorts of limitations and requirements.

Leaving Minnesota, we traveled through Wisconsin and Michigan, where we had lunch with another pastor and his wife. Then we dropped down into Indiana, and sought advice from an RV service center. We blew two rear tires on the trailer, the first in Montana and the second in Michigan. Both damaged the sides of the trailer, one quite severely. We have repairs to make after our long trip across the country. Being wild and free has lots of consequences.
My mother Edith still lives at Grace Village in Winona Lake, Indiana. She celebrated her 90th birthday last March. To our surprise, we learned that my brother Steve was visiting as well. Steve lives in Denver, Colorado. We had a great reunion with mom and Steve, as well as two sisters who live in the area. Winona Lake is home to many of our friends, and we saw as many as we could.

Leaving Indiana, we made it a point to drive through Columbus, Ohio for lunch with another pastor and his wife. Then we drove through the night to Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. Three grandchildren created the urgency, and we wanted to see them. Their parents are dear to us as well.

On Wednesday, we moved the trailer to the Thousand Trails RV Park near Hershey, Loreen’s home town. Except for a ten-day trip to the annual conference of the Fellowship of Grace Brethren Churches, Hershey will be our “home away from home” until we hit the road again on August 21st.

Wild and free. Well, sort of.

I'm Glad For A God Who Doesn't Forget

2006-05-29T20:28:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite stories is about an older couple who went out for dinner with friends. They went in one car; the two men in front, their wives in the back. One of the men said to the other, “We were in a terrific restaurant a few weeks ago that we really liked.” “Oh?” said his friend. “What was the name of it?” “Hmmm,” replied the other man, “What’s the name of the flower, usually red or white, that men give to the women they love?” His friend thought for a moment. “Do you mean roses?” “That’s it!” exclaimed the other man as he turned to his wife in the back seat. “Hey Rose!” he said. “What’s the name of the restaurant we were in a few weeks back that we liked so much?”

I can identify with those whose memories fail them.

Two weeks ago, I worked hard to remember Mother’s Day. I have a mother yet living, another mother who is my wife, two daughters in law who are mothers, and a daughter who expects to give birth in October. It was complicated, but with the help of others, I managed to remember them all with flowers and gifts. It isn’t easy for me to remember.

Today is Memorial Day. As Loreen and I walked our circuit this morning at 6:30, a neighbor stepped out his door to raise our country’s flag. “Hand over your heart!” he called out with a smile. He remembered, and I wished for a flag pole of my own. When I opened the newspaper, I found an entire page dedicated to seventeen men and women from southern Arizona. They gave their lives while serving our country in Afghanistan and Iraq. I read their stories. By the time I finished, my eyes were no longer dry. I need these reminders.

To be sure, I have a better memory than some. A couple of weeks ago, I read about a man with brain damage. He has an 8-second memory. His wife visits the long term care facility where he lives, and they have a wonderful time together. However, he can’t remember her between visits. They have to get re-acquainted each time. I’m better than that. I can remember at least eight days.

At times like this, I’m especially glad for a God who doesn’t forget. I know – when we are discouraged by awful things in life, we are tempted to think otherwise. In the Bible (Isaiah 49:14), the prophet Isaiah reports such a complaint from Israel: “The Lord has forsaken me, and my Lord has forgotten me.”

The Lord replies through the prophet: “Can a woman forget her nursing child, and not have compassion on the son of her womb? Surely they may forget, yet I will not forget you. See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.”

Think of it! Every time Jesus looks at the palms of his hands, he remembers me. He remembers you. I’m glad for a God who doesn’t forget. Aren't you?

Am I Retired, Or What?

2006-05-08T15:35:00.000-07:00

Loreen and I live in an adult retirement community. That is, it’s especially designed for the “over 55 crowd.” However, we have learned along the way that about a third of them are still gainfully employed – whatever that means.

The other day, a neighbor of mine asked a question that made me think twice. Three times, maybe. “When did you retire?” I knew what he meant, so I told him that I retired as pastor of Grace Church in Lititz, Pennsylvania at the end of June, 2004. The real answer is much more complicated. I may have retired from being the pastor of a church, but I am still very much “employed” within the Fellowship of Grace Brethren Churches.

The last three months have been busier than I would like to admit. During a 45-day period in February and March, I put together a “certification summit” for the chairmen of examining boards in the Fellowship of Grace Brethren Churches. Men came from points as far away as Alaska and Florida – 26 of us, counting myself. Of the 22 Districts listed as members of the Fellowship, 17 were represented.

Grace Church in Lititz hosted the gathering, so we flew to Baltimore and drove up to Pennsylvania on March 23. The Summit was historic in nature because we had never done anything like this before. We gathered on Monday night and concluded Wednesday morning. In my opinion, it was a huge success.

The Certification Summit was sponsored by the Association of Grace Brethren Ministers and funded by Grace Brethren North American Missions. Our first priority was to achieve basic agreement on a new ministry certification for church planters. Obviously, we discussed other things as well.

Loreen and I returned to Arizona on April 5, but flew back to Pennsylvania three weeks later to participate in a “mortgage burning” at Grace Church. The building debt is no more – at least for now. As you might imagine, we had a great time with friends and family. It’s always a joy to speak to a great congregation and urge them on to greater things.

After the celebration at Grace Church, we flew to Chicago for a meeting of the Board of Directors for the Grace Brethren Investment Foundation. I serve as a member of the Board until 2008. We returned to Arizona on April 30.

During the month of May, Loreen and I need to get the trailer ready for travel. If we have enough money for gas (spell that diesel), we’ll drive up the coast of California during the month of June. We have lots of churches and pastors we want to visit. If our plan holds, we’ll get all the way to the east coast before fall.

Whew! Am I retired, or what? Sometimes I wonder. Another neighbor of mine put it succinctly: “You travel a lot.” Uh-huh.

Superstition Everywhere

2006-04-07T08:53:00.000-07:00

Back in January, an evangelical Christian minister by the name of Rob Schenck performed a service for superstitious people everywhere. He entered a U.S. Senate hearing room and daubed each seat with “holy oil” to bless the proceedings. Confirmation hearings for Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito were scheduled for the next day, and Rob wanted them to go well.

After all, said the minister, he had performed the same service for Chief Justice John Roberts’ hearings. Look how well he did.

Rob is on a roll. If he can find more ways to integrate superstitious practices with Christian faith, he could become famous. Lots of people think there really is something to these things.

I’ve talked with people who were sure their marriage would be more successful if the ceremony were held in a church. Never mind the fact that they had little interest in building a relationship with God. A young father once told me that he wanted his infant son baptized because “he didn’t want to take any chances.” I’ve lost track of the number of people who wanted me to pray for them because a minister’s prayers are surely more effective. I still receive requests to pray at the very moment something BIG is happening, because timing is everything. And of course, fasting is the trump card that doubles the power of prayer. People ask me to fast for them, too.

I have a question. If a minister fasts and prays at the very moment someone goes into surgery, and that very same minister anointed the patient with oil the day before, is there a better chance that the surgery will be successful? Hmmmmm. Maybe if the surgery were especially serious, we could do it in a church. That should do it.

Forgive me. This is getting silly. But then, superstition is a silly enterprise. Christians really should know better. Some do.

Too Much of a Good Thing

2006-03-21T17:38:00.000-08:00

I gave blood today. The American Red Cross team came to the club house here at Saddlebrooke, and dozens of seniors bared their arms for a good cause. Goodness! Do you know the questions they ask of blood donors these days? I wanted to say to the young lady, “Do people really do those things?”

Once upon a time, I was a frequent blood donor. It was easy when I served as a Chaplain with the Army Reserve. Ten years ago, I retired from the Army and it wasn’t so easy any more.

Somewhere along the line, the doctor noticed that my blood pressure was high. Not real high, you understand, just high enough to raise a red flag. He asked me an interesting question. “Did you ever consider giving blood?” It turns out that, according to the doctor, I have too much fluid in my system. He put me on a water pill called Hydrochlorothiazide. It worked, but not very well. It sent me to the little boy’s room every hour and the blood pressure was still a little high.

Then we moved to Saddlebrooke. The local paper announced that the American Red Cross was coming, and it was easy, so I gave blood in November and January and March. My blood pressure today is 112 over 80. Who needs Hydrochlorothiazide? I had trouble spelling it anyway.

You can have too much of a good thing.

I have been in worship celebrations that went too long. The people in charge actually believed that people who enjoyed 90 minutes would have the same level of appreciation after 120 minutes. Wrong. I have stood in worship music segments that were inspiring for ten minutes but tiresome after 20. I have listened to sermons that were done at 30 minutes and overcooked at 45.

There are lots of things in life which are good, but only in the right amounts. An eight ounce drink of water can be very helpful. I wouldn’t advise anyone to drink a gallon all at once. One plate of delicious food can hit the spot. Eating two plates of food can produce indigestion at bed time. Lifting weights can prove beneficial in the maintenance of upper body strength. Lifting too much weight at one time can strain muscles and injure the body. A nice chunk of milk chocolate can . . . oops. I’ll drop that one. I think Loreen is reading over my shoulder.

Anyway, I think you get the drift. There is hardly any good thing in life that can’t be ruined by overindulgence or overuse.

So, I have an appointment with the American Red Cross on May 13. I have too much blood.

The View From Our Patio

2006-03-13T20:23:00.000-08:00

The View from our Patio

It Almost Rained

2006-03-03T15:02:00.000-08:00

Last Tuesday in Tucson, it almost rained. Clouds hung over the Catalina range which lies along the east side of our home. It was an ugly winter day. We saw a few drops of water on the stones outside, and the temperature didn’t rise above 60.

You have to understand. We haven’t had any rain since the first week of September. Well, OK. The newspaper reports that .01 of an inch fell at the Tucson airport on December 12. Does that count? This is the driest fall and winter for Tucson since records began in 1895.

As the sun began to set in the west, a double rainbow appeared over Mount Lemmon. A double rainbow! I never saw that before. Not one, but two rainbows rising side by side from the foot of the mountain up into the clouds above. I got up from the table and went for my camera. Let’s see. Where is it? I moved it from my den when I cleared the clutter to make room for office furniture. I searched high and low. Finally, there it was, in the utility room cabinets, right where I left it two weeks ago.

You guessed it. The rainbows were gone.

A lot of things get away from us when we are unprepared. When I began ministry some forty plus years ago, I wrote sermon notes on a small piece of paper and flew by the seat of my pants. In time, I realized that things got away from me. The time got away from me. Important points were missed. I made mistakes.

I started writing everything out. Then I learned to go over everything I wanted to say, again and again. Mind you, I still made mistakes. But it got better. I learned that the more I prepared, the better I performed. Not only did this apply to preaching, but also to teaching and organizing and leading board discussions and visiting homes. Everything got better when I prepared ahead of time.

Now that I watch others from the sidelines, the value of preparation has become even more obvious to me. Most of the ministers I observe do not prepare as well as they should. They fly by the seat of their pants. Some of them do pretty well. They could do even better if they would only prepare.

Some years ago, Don Shula, football coach for the Dolphins, wrote a book entitled Everyone’s a Coach. He built his chapters off the word “coach:” C for “conviction-driven,” O for “over-learning,” A for “audible-ready,” C for “consistency,” and H for “honesty-based.” His ideas were very helpful to me. The chapters on “over-learning” and “audible-ready” have a lot to do with preparation.

The will to win is not enough. You must have the will to prepare.

My camera now sets on the window sill, waiting for the next rainbow.

Say It Isn't So

2006-02-10T08:31:00.000-08:00

Earlier this week, the newspaper reported that a Vermont congressman collapsed while attending the funeral of a soldier from his state. He was later treated at a hospital for flu and dehydration. “I feel all right,” said 64-year-old Bernie Sanders, as he left the event before it was finished. “My wife had the flu. I’m fine.” Minutes later, he fell to the floor.

This is called denial, and it’s a human condition most often observed in the male gender of the species. It’s common for men to discover weakness in their wives long before they notice it in themselves, if ever.

It happened to me just this week.

For several months, I have reported that our move to the Southwest brought improvement to my respiratory system. I suffered with chronic sinusitis and bronchitis for years. I needed a desert, and I found it in southern Arizona. It’s great. I can take a deep breath without coughing. I became careless with my medication. I pretended that my chronic condition no longer existed.

Last Sunday, I woke up with a head that felt like a pumpkin. I started using my inhalers immediately, but it was too late. I’m very familiar with this cycle. It begins with heavy drainage from my sinuses, then moves down through my throat, into my bronchial tubes, and settles in my lungs. The process takes at least seven days, and if I’m lucky, it won’t go back to my head and start all over again.

We could wish that denial occurs only in connection with physical illness, but it doesn’t. It happens in other arenas as well. We all put on our happy faces, and pretend. We pretend because interacting with truth is hard. It takes courage.

Today is Friday, the sky is blue, the sun is shining, and things are looking up. My wife is feeling better, and so am I. Or is it the other way around?

Here We Go Again

2006-01-29T20:37:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow morning, we catch a plane for Los Angeles, the city of angels. Do they still call it that? I heard some time ago that folks who don’t believe in God want the city’s emblem changed. It contained a cross. Maybe the name will be changed, too. Who knows? I’m not surprised by anything anymore.

It’s a quick trip. We’re going to a retreat for pastors and ministry leaders being held at San Juan Capistrano. It begins Monday afternoon and finishes Wednesday morning. By the time you read this, it may be history.

Five regional “focus retreats” are held every year for pastors and ministry leaders associated with Grace Brethren churches. Tom Avey organizes and leads them, but he won’t make it to this one. He had quadruple bypass surgery last week. Whoa! That should slow him down temporarily.

I’m not sure who is in charge at this retreat, but it doesn’t matter. The men who attend always make it a success by their interaction with each other. Loreen fits right in, though she is usually the only female present. She has her own retreat. This year, she is threatening to go her own way. The program 24 is scheduled for Monday evening. She loves it. I hope the Lord doesn’t return Monday evening. She might be . . . never mind.

We love to connect with pastors and their wives. Ten days ago, we drove to Phoenix for dinner with Ed and Debbie Waken. Other ministry leaders were there as well: Larry and Sue Johnson, Henry and Cindy Staggs, Bud and Diana Miller, Joe Ritenour and Don Julien. Ed called us together. We met at Joe’s Crab Shack in Tempe, south of Phoenix. We had a great time getting acquainted.

We’ve had overnight guests at our place in Saddlebrooke, too. John and Martha Schumacher were here the second week of January. Merv and Charlene Bruckhart were here last week. Merv and Charlene left on a road trip last week, but we are getting together for dinner Wednesday night when we return.

We love Tucson. Come visit us sometime. Call first to make sure we are home and the guest room is empty. We do travel a lot.

The Rear View Mirror is Helpful

2006-01-16T14:26:00.000-08:00

I know. Sometimes, looking back is a bad idea.

One of my favorite stories is about a Sunday school class of second grade boys and girls. The teacher had just completed the Bible story of Lot and his family, how they barely escaped from Sodom before it was destroyed. The angel warned them not to look back, but Lot’s wife did, and she turned into a pillar of salt.

Before the teacher could begin her application, a little boy excitedly raised his hand and offered his own. “My mother looked back last week,” he said loudly, “and she turned into a telephone pole!”

I often encourage people to look forward, not backward. Looking back is a bad idea, especially when it involves a selfish refusal to step forward in obedience to God. The Bible is full of examples, and Lot’s wife is only one of them.

However, the Bible is also full of “rear view mirrors,” as I like to call them. They call us to look back, to remember. Jesus used one of them when he spoke to his disciples of a judgment of God yet to come. It’s recorded in Luke 17:32.

Looking back, I can see that God has placed rear view mirrors not only in the Bible, but also in my own life. I understand the present and anticipate the future much better when I pay attention to the past. A recent example came to me when a friend called to discuss the organization of the Fellowship of Grace Brethren Churches. He noticed that ministers hold nearly all the elected positions in the Fellowship and wondered aloud whether or not we are actually a fellowship of ministers.

Aha! Someone noticed! I remember my own surprise when I finally put the pieces together about ten years ago. I was reading old documents dating back to the origins of the Progressive Brethren movement. One of the leaders answered a question about the form of church government we would take. “We are still deciding,” he wrote, “whether or not we should be Episcopal in form.” That raised my eyebrows. About the same time, I found a book written by a critic of the newly minted Brethren Church. The writer suggested that Progressives had developed another way to “control the churches.” They would control them through the ministers rather than through a central government.

My eyes were opened and I saw our arrangement of churches in a new light. I see a crazy patchwork of Episcopal, Presbyterian and Congregational forms being used among the separate churches. However, when we gather churches together in district and national forums, the voices of ordained ministers are the ones being heard. That’s an Episcopal form of government. The past has a firm grip on our future.

In the final analysis, I don’t think the form of church government matters a great deal to God. Any form will work, unless leaders misbehave or struggle for power over others. When that happens, followers of Jesus are embarrassed and troubled. They feel what Jesus must feel. I see that in my rear view mirror as well.

Rear view mirrors are helpful.

Turn the Page

2006-01-04T08:17:00.000-08:00

My favorite page in the calendar is January. Somehow, just the turning of it arouses new hopes and dreams. Does it work that way for you?

This year was no different. After the hoopla of the holiday season, I found myself at the bottom looking for light at the top.

We took the RV to southern California on December 21. Our daughter Janae and her husband Eric live there. They have been married less than two years, and we were glad to spend time with them. I forgot that it rains a lot in California during the winter. It was cold and damp. I came down with bronchitis on Christmas day. Then it began to rain. Continuously. The roof of the trailer leaked. We came home early.

Happy New Year.

We drove straight home to Arizona on New Year’s Day after attending church. Then we spent another day unpacking the trailer and putting it in storage. On day three of the New Year, I turned the page and began to dream of things to come. Do you dream? In the daytime?

I hope so. Without a dream, a hope of things to come, every New Year becomes a repeat of the old year. A dream runs deeper than resolutions, which are made to be broken. Dorothy Heller wrote a rhyme some years ago, and it really fits here.

I spent a fortune on a trampoline,
A stationary bike, and a rowing machine
Complete with gadgets to read my pulse,
And gadgets to prove my progress results,
And others to show the miles I’ve charted—
But they left off the gadget to get me started!

We need dreams, not gadgets.

Ask God for a dream. The best dreams always start with Him. Ask the One who made you to change your heart and open your eyes. Ask permission to see your life through His eyes. Then, turn the page. You’ll be glad you did.

The Sun Sets on 2005

2005-12-31T12:57:00.000-08:00

The sun sets on 2005

A Story Worth Telling

2005-12-31T11:34:00.000-08:00

Does God really intervene in small ways to protect us from harm, even when we have no knowledge of danger?

One day last year, we traveled all afternoon on Interstate 80 across northern Pennsylvania. As we approached Ohio, I tried to call for a reservation at an RV Park located between Akron and Youngstown. No luck. I tried again and again, first at the national reservation number, then at the Park itself.

By now, Loreen was driving. Just beyond Youngstown, she pulled into a truck stop for fuel. She turned too quickly, and found herself among the pumps assigned to cars. It took several turns around cars and pumps to finally make our way out to the diesel pumps where all the trucks were lined up. We filled up with fuel and water.

I got a bright idea. “Why don’t we just park here for the night?” I asked. It was already 6:00. We hadn’t eaten anything yet, and a fine restaurant was located just across the parking lot. We parked the truck and trailer at the back of the lot and walked over to the restaurant. When we returned to the trailer, we carefully conserved battery power by using few lights and turning in early.

We awoke before sunrise, and found ourselves in total darkness. The battery in the trailer was completely dead. I couldn’t understand it. We had power the night before. Because of the darkness, we decided to dress quickly and walk to a nearby fast food restaurant to have breakfast. We finished and were ready to go in short order.

Since we left the truck and trailer hitched up the night before, I was surprised when the control for the trailer brakes did not show a connection. I checked as best I could in the darkness. I dug out my trailer manuals and studied them. I couldn’t find what my problem might be. I tried the brakes and they seemed to work. We started out, trusting God. All the way to Indiana, I left plenty of distance between us and other traffic. I didn’t trust the brakes.

We arrived at our destination about noon. When I parked the trailer and unhitched the truck, I made a chilling discovery. The cable for the breakaway switch had caught under the hitch and pulled the switch out. The breakaway switch is an emergency feature. It’s designed to stop a trailer by delivering 12 volts of battery power to the trailer brakes. Apparently, all those turns around the pumps wedged the cable under the hitch. Then the switch pulled out as I backed into a parking space. We sat in the truck stop all night while the battery drained to nothing.

I called an RV service center in Middlebury, Indiana to deliver the bad news. We already had an appointment for service the following week, but now I had more work for them to do. The technician who answered my call asked lots of questions, and then said, “You’re very fortunate. If the battery had been at full power when you drove with the switch engaged, the trailer wheels would have locked up. You would have ruined your brakes, and perhaps even crashed.” He promised to check the electrical system, but he indicated his belief that all would be fine.

Does God really intervene in small ways to protect us from harm, even when we have no knowledge of danger? I think I know the answer. In the Psalter it is written, “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” (Psalm 91:1-2)

MAY YOU BE BLESSED THROUGHOUT THE COMING YEAR
AS YOU PUT YOUR TRUST IN HIM

House and Trailer in Tucson

2005-12-28T11:22:00.000-08:00

House and Trailer in Tucson

Practice Makes Perfect

2005-12-28T11:05:00.000-08:00

So I have heard. My mother said it. So did my music teacher. I bought it, hook, line and sinker. That’s why I decided to practice backing up the trailer. Practice makes perfect. I’m a believer.

Furthermore, our 37' RV had not been moved for five months. After the fiasco of a stolen truck, we decided to stay away from civilization. Or should I say, un-civilization. We parked the trailer south of Florence, Arizona at a place called Desert Gardens. January through May. It was beautiful.

We hooked up on Memorial Day. The Park was nearly empty. The “snow birds” were gone. The heat of summer was upon us. I said to Loreen, “We should practice driving the trailer before we leave.” She agreed.

We drove around. Wide turns. Backed into a few parking spots. I’m a perfectionist. She’s a good-enough-ist. “Good enough,” she said. “Not quite,” I replied. “Let’s try one more time.” I pulled forward. She hollered. I looked in the mirror. The trailer had connected with a fence post. Tore the fender off. Yep. Practice makes perfect.

That’s the last time I practice. Next time I mess up the trailer, I want to mess it up while doing the real thing.

We have done a lot of the real thing this year. We closed on our Arizona home in March. Moved a Penske truck full of furniture and things at the end of April. Traveled all summer in the RV. Sold our Pennsylvania home in August. Traveled twice more (by air) in October and November, visiting places from Winona Lake, Indiana to New York City. It’s good to be home. You can have too much of the real thing.

Arizona is now our home, sort of. Most of our earthly possessions are in Saddlebrooke, an adult community north of Tucson. We love it here. The house, the mountains, the sunsets, the warm sun, the dry air, the neighbors . . . What gracious friends they have proven to be. Loreen brought some Christmas decorations from Pennsylvania. Not all of them, you understand. That would have taken a second truck. We kept only the best, and they are promoted to glory once more. The Moravian star is hanging over the front door. Candles are burning in the windows. Christmas music is everywhere. Almost like old times. Are you still reading? You must be a real friend.

We take the trailer out of storage on Monday. It hasn’t moved for three and a half months, so I imagine it needs a little attention. Besides, the Pennsylvania registration is no longer valid. I have to drive it someplace on Monday and get that corrected. Don’t tell anyone. Our plan is to drive to San Diego, California on Wednesday. There’s a park on the east side of San Diego that I want to visit. Then we’ll drive up to Norwalk on Friday or Saturday so we can be with Janae and Eric Goodwyn on Christmas day. Eric’s family, too. Dave and Sandy Goodwyn are gracious hosts, and they treat us like family. Of course, they have two dogs that they treat like family, too, so it’s easy for them. We look forward to being with our new family and friends at the Norwalk church on Christmas and New Year’s Day. We’ll drive the trailer back to storage in Arizona the first week of January and check the mail. Remember our new address: 62679 E. Northwood Road, Tucson, AZ 85739-2277. We still have our cell phones, but we also have a land line from Quest: 520-818-1623.

We will not see our three sons and two daughters (in law) on Christmas Day. We won’t see our three grandchildren, either. That really hurts. However, we were all together on Thanksgiving Day. Including Janae. We even flew Eric in from California at the last minute. It was a surprise for Janae. We got her good.

Jared and Allison live in Elizabethtown. They take care of Lauren Elizabeth for us. She is growing like a weed and doing well in preschool. Jared is really excited and proud about his new doctoral program at Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine. Allison is not quite as excited. It’s a step into the unknown. Scarey.

Justin and Kati take care of Brendan Wilson and Kara Jean. Brendan is now in second grade and growing fast. He is almost as tall as Loreen, which isn’t saying much. Kara is the funniest little girl I’ve ever met. She called one night last week asking Grandma to come over and give her a bath. Justin still works at Hershey Medical Center and Kati works part time at MorningStar, a ministry of Grace Church. They bought a house south of Lititz, near the airport.

Jason still lives in King of Prussia. He completed his Master’s Degree in Mathematics this year. Wendy Chang is his best girl friend. She was with us for Thanksgiving. She survived. With this wild bunch, I don’t know how, but she did. Jason continues his work as a computer engineer at Lockheed Martin.

I’m all through practicing to be perfect. Since Jesus came and died and rose again, I now live his life. Not my own. I will never be perfect, no matter how hard I practice. I’m glad for Jesus. Aren’t you?

On The Road Again

2005-08-24T21:05:00.000-07:00

Jerry & Loreen Young, on the road again

Coming Your Way: A Travel Documentary

2005-08-24T20:45:00.000-07:00

After announcing my retirement from full time pastoral ministry, I realized that I needed a whole new persona. I would no longer be pastor of Grace Church in Lititz, Pennsylvania. The role I practiced for 33 years in one locale would soon be in the hands of another. For his sake, I reasoned, I needed to reduce my presence.

After thinking and praying and talking with my wife, I found the answer. A recreational vehicle was our perfect “down-size-get-out-of-town-quick” plan. So we bought a truck. A big one. Then we bought a “fifth wheel” trailer. Also a big one. We are on the road. Full time.

Loreen was the first to announce that we are now “trailer trash.” The name stuck. Every two months or so, I write the trailer trash journal for those who care to know where we are and how we are getting on. I suppose some people don’t care but get it anyway. If you want it, or don’t want it, just let me know. Electronic mail is cheap. My skin is tough.

Since last July, we have driven our trailer in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, and Missouri. Whenever possible, we invite pastors and their wives out for breakfast, lunch or dinner. We especially enjoy opportunities to visit churches in out-of-the-way places, like McAllen, Texas and Beaver City, Nebraska.

We have learned lots of lessons. Most of them are in the “what not to do” category, such as “don’t park your truck in a motel parking lot and fly off to another state for two weeks.” Not unless you want it stolen. Again, “never back a trailer into a parking space without looking up.” Not unless you want to replace the roof. This traveling business can be expensive.

Along the way, we also fly to destinations upon request. We have taken that option to Washington and California, Texas and Ohio, Maryland and Pennsylvania. I have been the guest speaker in four district ministerial meetings and six churches. I speak only by invitation. I don’t ask. In this regard, the sovereign hand of God behind the scenes is very apparent.

We parked our trailer near Florence, Arizona in January. For those who care to know, Florence is located southeast of Phoenix. It was a wet winter, by Arizona standards, and the desert was absolutely stunning by spring. Forty miles to the south, our new home was under construction. We drove down each week to check its progress, signed the papers in March and moved in April.

We lived in our new home one month before packing up and heading east. It was great to be back with our family and friends. We attended worship services at Grace Church for the first time in a year. We visited pastors and churches in Ohio and Indiana. We spent a week at Equip05 in Winona Lake, Indiana. The best news, however, is that we sold our Pennsylvania home on August 17. Two days later, we left for the west. Leaving our kids and grandkids was hard. Leaving hot, muggy weather along the east coast was easy.

At the moment, we are parked along Interstate 40 on the East side of Albuquerque. Our original plan was to visit the Northwest before turning south and traveling through the whole of California. However, we are expected back in Arizona by the first week of September. There just wasn’t enough time. So we skedaddled for Tucson.

After all, the southwest is now our home. Well, sort of.