There’s No Place Like Home

So many of us can picture the scene near the end of The wizard of Oz where Glinda the Good Witch tells Dorothy all she has to do is close her eyes, click the heels of the ruby slippers and say “There’s no place like home.”  After a few repetitions, and some early twentieth century special effects, Dorothy is home.  The message?  No matter where you are, no matter how far one may have wandered, there really is no place like home.

Since mid-January, I have been living in my new home town of Salisbury, North Carolina.  Coming to a new Lutheran Church (NALC), serving a new congregation (Union Lutheran Church) and living in a rental house has certainly been an adventure.  Not necessarily on the scale of Dorothy’s trip to the land of Oz, but certainly there have been many wonderful and unexpected surprises.  All in all, I have come to really enjoy my new surroundings, but there is one part I would change if I could.  My family will not join me here until the school year in South Carolina is over.  So for the time being, we are a bi-locational family.

During their most recent visit, my wife asked me, “Does it feel like home?”  I had to think about that one for a bit.  I wasn’t sure what she was getting at.  In my response I told her that the house we are renting feels more like a motel.  I am comfortable in the living room, it seems like a place where I belong but it isn’t really mine.  I also feel comfortable in the bedroom at night.  In these two rooms I have furniture from our house in SC so there is a sense of belonging.  The rest of the house though is different.  I don’t enter the two other bedrooms belonging to my daughters when they visit, those rooms are just there right now.  The stove in the kitchen is still a little tricky when it comes to cooking, and overall I know this is a temporary situation.  So, given the unfamiliarity of the house, and the absence of my family, my answer to her question was, “It’s comfortable, but no, it doesn’t feel like home.”

Of course, being a man, I completely missed what she was getting at.  My wife’s question to me was, “Does the town of Salisbury and the church feel like home?”  Once it was clear what she was getting at, there was little thought needed.

I have fallen in love with Salisbury, especially since there are so many reminders of the town in Michigan where I grew up.  On Main Street there is a deli – ice cream shop just like the one I used to go to as a kid.  There are mom and pop shops that offer small town shopping experiences, and there is even a small lunch counter where a person can stop in and get a hotdog and a drink to enjoy at the counter, or the wooden table outside.

The landscape near the church is also a reminder of where I grew up.  There are hills, trees, and ponds at nearly every turn’ something the Charleston area didn’t offer.  There are large fields dotted with farm houses, barns, horses and cows.  There is a golf course reminiscent of the one across the street from my aunt and uncle’s farm at Six Mile and Sheldon, and I’m sure, if I look hard enough this fall, I’ll find a cider mill within acceptable driving distance.

As far as the church and congregation go?  I have also fallen completely head over heels in love with my new flock.  There are so many wonderful people eager to learn more of God’s will for our church.  The children of the congregation love being at the church and in the presence of their Lord Jesus, and the joy of Christian worship as expressed through the music of the church is so uplifting.  So many members of the congregation have welcomed our family and made us part of their family.  Certainly, God has blessed us all with the power of his love and the presence of the Holy Spirit where we can all look forward to the possibilities and ministry opportunities God has placed in front of us.  Even though I have been here for a short time, it feels as if I have belonged here and my family is also eager to be a part of this family in Christ for a long time.  So yes, for all these reasons it feels like home.

I have no ruby slippers, and there is no yellow brick road leading to the Emerald City.  But I can click my heels and give thanks to God for the blessings of this new place.  It is true; a house is not a home.  Home is much more than bricks and concrete. Home is following God to the place he would have you be.  Home is being a part of a loving family, following our Lord Jesus and being guided by the power of the Holy Spirit.  In this place, even as our family is currently occupying two separate houses, we are at home.  And there truly is no place like home.

it takes discipline

Discipline.  Just the word itself seems intimidating enough without us having to talk about it.  But spiritual discipline is what the season of Lent calls for, and it is what Christians the world over hope to achieve.  Through the disciplines of prayer, reading Holy Scripture, repentance, worship, fasting, works of love and giving alms, we hope to draw closer to God and strengthen our relationship with Christ Jesus.  Through such practices as these, we hope to enhance our faith and grow as disciples of our Lord, following his example of servant leadership for the sake of others.

During this season of Lent, I find myself serving a new congregation in a new place.  One year ago I couldn’t have imagined being where I am today.  Yet, even as the scenery has changed and there are new names and faces to learn, the focus of Lent remains the same; understanding my need for God’s forgiveness and mercy, and leading my flock to grow in their understanding of the same so that we can be a powerful witness of God’s love through Christ Jesus to the world around us.  How do I, and how do we do this?  Discipline.

Becoming a disciple of Christ Jesus isn’t easy.  Accepting Christ’s call to follow him and become fishers of people means Christians must become living reminders of God’s love for his people.  In order to become such followers of Jesus, Christians must draw closer to God, strengthening their faith and relationship with Christ Jesus on a daily basis.  The disciplines of Lent are the tools for building such faith.

The late Henri J.M. Nouwen puts it this way:

“Discipline is the other side of discipleship. Discipleship without discipline is like waiting to run in the marathon without ever practicing. Discipline without discipleship is like always practicing for the marathon but never participating. It is important, however, to realize that discipline in the spiritual life is not the same as discipline in sports. Discipline in sports is the concentrated effort to master the body so that it can obey the mind better. Discipline in the spiritual life is the concentrated effort to create the space and time where God can become our master and where we can respond freely to God’s guidance.”  (Bread for the Journey)

The disciplines of Lent focus us on God’s saving act through Christ Jesus.  Daily prayer, Scripture reading, fasting and worship help us set boundaries where we can spend time with God so that we are able to heed Jesus’s invitation to follow and become disciples.

Sure, this year I am serving in a new place, but I still serve a congregation of God’s people who strive to be disciples of Jesus and witnesses to the power of God’s love.  Collectively, our congregation has embarked on a journey of Lenten discipline focusing on three of the spiritual practices listed above.  Prayer, daily reading of Holy Scripture and worship are the foundation of our pilgrimage to the cross of Good Friday.  Through these three disciplines, we look to experience the complete joy of the empty tomb of Easter.  I also urge all of our brothers and sisters in Christ to focus on the other four disciplines listed here.  As pastor, I invite our members and friends to experience the spiritual benefits of repentance and fasting, along with the joy of doing works of love and giving alms.

The goal of Christian life is to love God with all your heart, mind and strength, and to love your neighbor as Christ loves you.  Striving toward this goal requires a faith made strong through spiritual discipline.  Becoming a fisher of people means one must first become a disciple of our Lord Jesus.  Again, as Nouwen says, “Discipline is the other side of discipleship.”  You can’t have one without the other.

pray to your father in secret…

Matthew 6: 1-6, 16-21

[Jesus said] “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.  So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.  But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

  And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.  But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

 And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward.  But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

 

Following our evening service during which we imposed ashes on the foreheads of our parishioners, I finally made it home for a time of peace before a late night of sermon writing and Facebook checking.  When I booted up the computer and pulled up my Facebook page, I was struck by the number of people who posted pictures of themselves wearing the ashes of repentance.  It was almost comical.  The words of Jesus, “don’t practice your piety in such a way…” slapped me in the face.

Now please, please, please don’t get the impression I am passing judgement.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  The folks who posted pics with ashes are all faithful Christian people connecting with the community of Christ and sharing their common beliefs and reliance on God’s mercy.  I sincerely feel the ashes displayed were a method by which those separated by distance and time were able to gather as children of the Heavenly Father.  But still, the words of Christ were right there in front of all of our faces.

So how often do we Christians practice our piety in such a way as to call attention to our perceived level of faithfulness?  Though not intentional, do we lift up our particular brand of faith as a superior model for others?  Do we want people to see us and know we are Christians?  It’s something to think about as we enter this Lenten season.

I invite others to reflect on these texts as we consider how we practice our piety.  Leave your comments and let’s see where the discussion goes.

Tending to the burning bushes

As you begin reading this post, consider a few questions.  When was the last time that you heard God speaking to you?  When was the last time you actually became still so you could listen?  And what was your response the last time you felt God tugging at your arm, inviting you to a place that you really didn’t care to go?

 As each day passes there is never a shortage of opportunities for ministry in and around our community.  Those burning bushes God uses to get our attention seem to be set ablaze at nearly every turn.  They could take the form of a woman sitting at a bus stop, a homeless person staking claim to a park bench, or as was the case yesterday, a parishioner making a frantic phone call to my office.  I am usually amazed at what God can do each time I am invited into difficult and stressful situation in the life of someone whom I am called to shepherd.  Yesterday was one such day when God called me to a place I’d rather not go.  Suddenly, I felt a bit like Moses when he saw the burning bush.  What makes me so special that they should listen to me?  What if I don’t have the ability to do what is required?  What good can come out of my simply being there?

Moses is certainly one of the central characters of the Old Testament narrative, yet before he became such a key figure, he could have been best described as someone who was short of confidence and filled with doubt.  He was born a slave but raised in the house of Pharaoh and later rejected by even his own people.  He had to flee Egypt because he killed a guard.  When God finally got Moses’ attention he was but a shepherd tending a flock that wasn’t even his own.  God’s call wasn’t extended in dramatic fashion.  There were no lightning bolts or loud claps of thunder.  Instead, God used the sight of a burning bush.

This is where Moses gives us one of those great theological movements.  Instead of sitting there with a puzzled look on his face, Moses turns aside.  Turning aside is one of those things we learn about in seminary.  Turning aside means dropping what you are doing, forgetting what you are thinking about so that you can look and listen for God.  Moses turned aside in order to pay attention and noticed that this bush was not consumed by the flames.  Moses turned aside and heard God.  Yet even turning aside isn’t always enough.

When God called Moses his response was to the effect of “Who am I but a poor shepherd, uneducated in your ways and incapable of eloquent speech?”  With each excuse Moses was able to conjure up, God promised to do more than simply meet his needs.  Fast forwarding several thousand years, we may be quick to offer the same excuses when God calls us to ministry.  “Who am I that I should be of help?”  “I’m not qualified, send someone else.”  “In this instance I don’t believe I have what it takes.” I’m not up to the challenge…am I?”  Often at times we sound just like Moses, yet God still takes the time to bless us with the gift of the Holy Spirit and walk with us into the dark valley.  Our calling as followers of Christ Jesus is simply to go and let God be God.

The burning bushes are out there in our midst.  God continually calls his people to action using the most ordinary of means, but spotting those burning bushes takes patience and it takes practice.  If we are not listening for God, if we are not paying attention we might not recognize a burning bush when we see one.  As we go about our busy day, Christian folk need to be actively looking and listening for God.  We need to be tuned in to the burning bushes in our midst, always remembering that as we are called to ministry, God is with us and provides what is needed to do his will.

So again I ask the questions that I have considered these last few weeks.  When was the last time that you heard God speaking to you?  When was the last time you actually became still so you could listen?  And what was your response the last time you felt God tugging at your arm, inviting you to a place that you really hadn’t planned on going?

The King’s Speech

Like many folks, I enjoy seeing a good movie every now and then.  Sadly, like many other folks, I don’t always take advantage of the opportunity to spend an enjoyable night out when it comes along.  But recently I recognized there was a break in my normal routine and so my wife and I decided to take in a movie.  First we had dinner than we went to the theater and saw The King’s Speech.  I must say that I had no idea what the movie would be like, but it garnered twelve academy award nominations so it must have had something going for it.

The King’s Speech is a film about King George VI and his sudden rise to the throne of England.  It was the advent of WWII and England needed to hear a clear and confident message of hope from her king.  Yet, even as he had the gifts and pedigree for the job, George VI lacked confidence due to his obvious speech impediment.  Realistically, I didn’t think I would enjoy a movie about a king who stammers, but to be honest, I enjoyed the movie very much.  I won’t ruin the story, but I will say that it gives one plenty to consider, especially when we are faced with the opportunity to speak confidently with someone who may be confused about matters of faith.

Not all Christians are ready and willing to step up and speak out about their faith.  Many lack confidence in either their knowledge of the Bible, strength of their voice or ability to articulate clearly what they believe and why.  Christians ought to be glad for the opportunity to speak of God’s grace, but we humans don’t always believe we can do it.  If this describes you, well, you’re not alone.  Moses, as great a prophet and leader that he was, also lacked confidence in his ability to speak for God.  In the fourth chapter of Exodus, Moses goes so far as to beg God to send someone else.  He admitted to being slow of speech and lacking in eloquence.  Yet God reminded him that it is God himself that gives speech to mortals.  God promised to fill Moses with the words and message of deliverance.  We all know how that story turned out.

Fast forward a few thousand years and not much has changed.  Humans still suffer under the weight of a fallen and broken world.  Many are lost and forgotten and countless more live well beyond the margins of society.  In the instances where people suffer and feel lost and forgotten, people need to hear a confident message of hope from their king.  God has something to say to those desiring to be delivered from sin and despair.  Whom shall he send?  Well, for starters, how about you?

To those whom God has called through baptism he gives the gift of the Holy Spirit.  The same Holy Spirit of God who gave speech to Moses, the disciples and the apostle Paul, also gives speech to Christians of all generations.  As it is with all our gifts and talents, we must learn to use them and be sure in our abilities.  Just as George VI had to work hard in overcoming a speech impediment, Christians must practice the art of speaking the faith.  Sunday worship, Bible study and fellowship gatherings are all opportunities for us to practice using our King’s speech.

Can you remember the last time someone asked you to speak about matters of faith?  If not it is only a matter of time.  God has something to say to a world that is hurting and wanting.  He has given this word to the church so that we may confidently and boldly share it with others.  Do you know what to say?  Do you know how to say it?  Are you confident in your ability?  Chances are you have some doubts.  Perhaps, but it is God’s word Christians are called to share, and God will not fail you.  If you need to gain confidence, gather with God’s people, listen and learn while deepening your faith.  Become comfortable speaking about your faith with the folks in your congregation, then go out into the world as ambassadors for Christ.  Soon you will realize that it is God who speaks through you, and you can take delight in using the King’s speech.

What a friend we have in Jesus

I’m sure that we are all very familiar with the song “What a Friend we have in Jesus.”  It is a beautiful song that everyone, from the youngest child to the most senior adult loves to sing.  In my own humble opinion, we don’t sing this song nearly enough.  There is also an old saying that goes something like, “A friend of so-and-so’s is also a friend of mine.”  Taking these two things into consideration, I’d like to tell you about a friend of Jesus.

I only know this person as Robert.  Robert is a simple man, perhaps in his mid fifties.  He doesn’t seem to have a lot going for him and I would suppose he never did.  I don’t know Robert’s background, but if I had to guess I would say that he is a highly functioning autistic man.  I don’t know where he lives, who his family members are or even if he has any family.  The only thing I know about him is that he is a friend of Jesus, and so he is a friend of mine.

Robert stops by our church about three times each week, and especially on Sunday morning.  When he comes he only asks for one thing; Robert wants to pray the Our Father.  He isn’t particular whom he prays with, he doesn’t insist on seeing the pastor and is comfortable praying with any of God’s people.  He takes delight in praying with everyone and anyone, this is how I know he is a friend of Jesus.  Robert takes seriously Jesus’ promise that where two or more are gathered in his name, Jesus also is in their midst.

Robert stopped by last Sunday to say hello and to pray.  I hadn’t seen him in a while so it was good to lay eyes on him and to know he is alright.  The streets of our little part of God’s kingdom have been unseasonably cold, and I worry about folks like Robert.  He was bundled up wearing a hooded sweatshirt and a scarf around his neck.  Over his shoulder was his familiar old back pack.  When Robert showed up, I was on my way from our parish house to the church nave.  Our guest for the day, the assistant to our synodical bishop was with me.  In his quiet and unassuming way, Robert extended his hand and asked if we would pray with him. And so we prayed, Robert, the bishop’s representative and me, right there on the sidewalk.  At the Amen, Robert wished us a blessed day and with that was off to another adventure.

There is never a dull moment here in our little corner of God’s kingdom, and each day brings a new surprise.  Sometimes Jesus himself pops in for an unexpected visit, and sometimes our Lord’s friends stop by.  But what I love most about being called to this community is being able to look out my window onto the kingdom streets and seeing so many of God’s children at work or at play.  The best part is that at any given moment, one of Jesus’ friends will stop in and say hello.

The Invisible Man

When I was a kid I used to think it would be great if I were able to become invisible.  If I had such power I could sneak around unnoticed, get into things my parents told me to leave alone and simply enjoy the freedom of doing what I want when I want.  As a child, invisibility intrigued me and the possibilities seemed endless.  These days I’m not so sure.

Certainly no one has the power to become invisible.  There are no cloaking devices such as the ones we see in science fiction movies and no super heroes with exceptional powers.  We are stuck in this world of visibility, out there for all to see whether we like it or not.  So we make the best of it.  Some wear nice clothes, others follow current trends or perhaps even take on a look all their own.  Through all of this the fact remains, at some time during life everyone wants to be noticed.  

Yesterday as the sun finally broke through the clouds, I went for a walk along downtown streets.  It had been cloudy and gray for some time now, so the invitation of warm sunshine was welcome news.  The sidewalks were crowded with people taking their lunch outside, getting in some exercise or simply enjoying some fresh air in the park.  It was great.  People were talking to one another, trading hellos and greeting others with smiles as they passed by.  That is until they came upon the invisible man.

Joey is a homeless man who frequents the park across the street from the church I pastor.  He has few possessions, wears pretty much the same set of clothes most days and perches on the same park bench day in and day out.  People walk past Joey never even turning their heads.  Not that he really is invisible, folks just don’t want to pay too much attention, mostly out of fear I guess, fear that he may say something, asking for some spare change or some other “handout.”  Every city has its Joey, actually, more of them than we can count.

Joey and I have been, well, acquaintances for a couple of years now.  He really is a deep thinker and I enjoy conversation with him.  As I approached I took my usual place next to him on the bench and made small talk.  What’s up?  Where you been?  Nice weather we’re having.  I used all the clichés.  But as Joey responded, there was a difference in his tone.  Somehow Joey seemed annoyed that so many people pass him by each day, paying him little attention.  Precious few even bother to look his way.  “I’m the invisible man,” he said to me, “I sit here every day and no one sees me at all.”  Sadly, I couldn’t argue; that is until God tapped me on the shoulder.

“Hey Joe, you still got that Bible I gave you last year at Christmas?”

“Yep, read it every day.”

“Well, what’s Jesus have to say about you being invisible?”

Joey thought about it for a moment, then he brought up several stories where Jesus had compassion on the outcast from society; ten lepers, a woman bleeding for twelve years, and even a demoniac who lived in a graveyard.  Jesus cured all of these people and restored their relationship with their respective communities.  Then Joey asked, “Why doesn’t Jesus do the same for me?”  “He already has.” I said, “You just don’t see it.”

Nine months ago, Joey came to the church and was baptized.   We welcomed him into our family just as God welcomed him into the body of Christ.  Since that time, he has become a fixture within our congregation.  He won’t accept much in the way of assistance and though people have offered, Joey prefers to continue living as he does.  But as I often remind him, God has restored his relationship in the community of the faithful.  Yes, the worldly often pass him by without giving much notice, but God looks upon Joey, just as God looks upon all of his children with the compassion and love of Christ Jesus.  We are all visible in the eyes of God.  Even more, we are precious, cherished and loved.

There is a song that is played on contemporary Christian radio that says “[i]Open the eyes of my heart Lord.”  Perhaps this is a prayer that Christians everywhere should pray before we take to the city streets and wander among the invisible.  With the eyes of our hearts open to the needs of others, we become as Christ to them, having compassion and welcoming all into the community of faith.  As we do this, the God whom we cannot see becomes visible in the hearts and minds of others, and the good news of God’s salvation through Christ becomes a present day reality for all whom God places within our midst.

No one wants to be truly invisible, it goes against human nature.  We need love and human contact in order to live and to thrive.  Open the eyes of my heart Lord.  Help me to see the invisible so I can help them to see you and make your grace known to them.

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[i] Open the eyes of My Heart Lord – Original lyrics by Mercy Me

Falling Through the Crack

‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”  Matthew 25:40

Jesus came to the door of our church today looking for some help.  He came with a friend who has this problem with substance abuse and it seems no one is willing to help him.  This isn’t the first time Jesus showed up like this, unexpected and with a friend, it happens quite often these days.  You see, I meet Jesus all over the city.  Most times he is by himself, waiting for the bus, or looking for some spare change to get a bite to eat.  Our Lord is quite a humble fellow.  Much of the time he makes little noise and if folks aren’t careful, they will completely overlook him as he blends into the faceless crowds downtown. 

Today Jesus and his friend were waiting for me on the steps at the side entrance of our church.  I have to say, his friend looked awful, especially for someone who has the pleasure of walking the streets with Christ the Lord.  As I sat next to him he kept muttering something about being sick and tired of being sick and tired.  You see, for as long as this gentleman can remember, he has been addicted to alcohol and crack cocaine.  His family has turned against him, sons and daughters, cousins and other relatives have no need for his foolishness.  That’s what happens you know, when your next high becomes your god.  Your world comes crashing in and you need God’s compassion and mercy more than ever.  I suppose that’s why Jesus brought him here.

I recognized him right off, both of them, Jesus and his friend.  His nickname is Red and he is a resident of our surrounding streets.  Believe it or not, his late wife was actually a member of our congregation years ago, until she went on to glory.  Maybe that’s why Red is so hard on himself.  Even though she died of natural causes, he assumes most of the blame for his wife’s passing.  To be honest, it wasn’t his fault, but I’m sure the booze and the drugs didn’t help matters much.  He’s told me at least that much before.

But today was different.  “Pastor”, he said, “I’m done. If I can’t get someone to help me today I’m just going to say goodbye.”  “You going away” I asked him?  “Yeah, going away, for good, dirt nap, I’m done, ending it.”  I wish I could say his comments caught me off guard, but I have seen this coming for some time now.  Red is a frequent flyer in the emergency rooms around town, and he might even have a jail cell or two with a welcome mat at the door in his honor.  He gets high, they pick him up, he dries out, they let him go.  It’s seems to be a never ending cycle.

I brought Red up to the office, Jesus came up too, and we made a few phone calls.  “Does he have insurance?  We don’t accept Medicaid”  “We don’t have a program for crack cocaine abuse.  Try so-and-so.”  …also a never ending cycle.  I wonder, if I had told the folks on the line that it was Jesus with the addiction problem, would they listen?  Would they help?

Finally, one of God’s people answered our call.  I could tell it was one of God’s people because they only asked questions about Jesus’ friend.  No mention of insurance, no questions about money.  No arm twisting, leg pulling or one single, minute little word about money of any kind.  (God’s people know that God will provide.)  “Bring him here.” They said, “We’ll get him in to see a doctor and also have a psych evaluation waiting.”

When I had hung up the phone I asked Red if this is what he really wanted.  He looked at me with empty eyes and nodded.  Finally, choking back a few tears he told me, “All I wanted was someone to take me serious.  Thank you.”  I drove Red to the doctor’s office in my pick-up, Jesus went along for the ride.  Thirty minutes later he was in the office of the person he needed to see.  Climbing back into my truck, I turned the key and headed off alone.  Jesus didn’t wait around; I suppose he had other pressing matters.  He is the Christ you know.

I had a few moments to think about what had just happened.  “All I wanted was someone to take me serious.”  The words stuck with me the entire ride back to the church.  Questions also came rushing in.  Who cares for those no one cares about?  Why is it that people with money can get help, but the helpless can’t because they have no money?  Like I said, questions…no answers.

Rounding the corner to my office I saw one more familiar sight.  Jesus was at the bus stop with a sign displaying but one word; “Hungry.”  Five dollars later our Lord had a meal, and my questions had answers.

Imagine That

A friend, who belongs to a congregation that has a pastoral vacancy, asked if I could pay a visit to one of their members who is in the hospital.  The man whom I’ll call Jerry, is well into his “golden years,” and suffered a stroke.  He has very little family left; in fact, one could say his congregation is his family.  Details concerning is health and the effects of the stroke were sketchy, but he was not in intensive care or other form of critical care unit, so I assumed he was well on his way to recovery.  I told my friend that it was my pleasure to help in this way, so off to the hospital I went.

The absence of cards, flowers or any other evidence of a visitor was obvious.  Jerry was lying alone in a darkened room, tethered to the bed rail by wrist restraints.  He seemed to be sleeping, but as soon as I entered his eyes met mine.  His puzzled look told me that he wasn’t expecting a pastor to stop by, but soon a smile of approval came, so I introduced myself and sat down.

One of the spiritual gifts God blessed me with is the ability to carry on a conversation with a total stranger as if I have known this person all my life (for this reason, my wife really discourages my accompanying her to the grocery store).  As a sat next to Jerry, I began talking about the people we have in common, and the friends who asked me to visit him.  As soon as I asked Jerry how long he had known a particular person, the affects of the stroke became evident.  Jerry can use all of his limbs; there seems to be no paralysis at all.  His mind seems sharp and his facial expressions tell me that he can follow conversation quite well.  The problem is that Jerry can’t talk.  He makes noise, changes inflection and all, but all that comes out is gibberish.  Yet, given my gift for gab we were able to communicate.

I spoke with Jerry for a good while, mostly asking him yes or no questions.  He knew where he was, why he was there, and understood the need for the wrist restraints.  Jerry was not bitter at all about his situation, he was simply glad that he made it through his stroke and that his friends from church found a pastor who would come visit him.

Soon, I was telling Jerry stories about Jesus and how he healed many people.  He seemed to enjoy the stories, and he even tried to make a point or two along the way.  He did grow a little frustrated when we were talking about Jesus healing the ten from leprosy, and how only one came back to offer thanks.  He wanted to say something but couldn’t.  I know in my heart that Jerry was telling me that he too was grateful for God’s healing touch in his life.  The noises he made were unintelligible, yet he was still able to communicate his thanks for God’s action in his life.

When Jerry finally took a moment to pause, I asked him if he felt the same joy as the man healed from leprosy must have felt.  I asked him if he felt as though God had healed him in such a way that he would have abundant life in his remaining years, if he could envision the day when he would return to his church and see all of his friends.  Jerry looked at me a moment, nodded, and then began to ramble on.  Again, I could not understand his words, but his smile and other facial expressions spoke volumes.  He continued talking as best he could, making gestures with his hands even though they were tethered to the bed rail.  Finally, with one last sentence, Jerry looked up at me, said a few happy remarks and pointed straight at me.  As he pointed came the two words that Jerry said, plain as day.  Smiling ear to ear, making the sign of the cross over his chest, Jerry pointed at me and said, “Imagine that!”

There we were, two strangers brought together by unforeseen circumstances; a pastor and a patient.  One might think that I came to give Jerry words of comfort, words of faith, words of God’s love.  Yet, as I think about it, perhaps Jerry spoke to me the words of faith and the words of God’s love.  Hmmmm.  “Imagine that!”

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