I'm Coming Down There Myself!

In the play Green Pastures, which ran for many years on Broadway, playwright Marc Connelly has a moving and memorable scene. The Lord is anxiously looking out over the parapets of heaven, trying to decide what to do with the sinful situation on earth. Gabriel enters with his horn tucked under his arm. Sensing the Lord's dilemma, he brushes his lips across the trumpet to keep the feel of it and asks, "Lord, has the time come for me to blow the trumpet?" "No, no," said the Lord, "don't touch the trumpet, not yet." God continues to worry with the problem. Gabriel asks the Lord again what he plans to do. Will he send someone to tend to the situation? Who will it be? Gabriel makes some suggestions. "How about another David or Moses? You could send one of the prophets: Isaiah or Jeremiah. There are lots of great prophets up here. What do you think, Lord?" Without looking back at Gabriel, God said, "I am not going to send anyone. This time I am going myself!!" The Rev. Dr. Thomas Lane Butts, in his sermon, "A Permanent Glimpse of God"

The Lanyard (Mother's Day)

Billy Collins was Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2005. The Lanyard BY BILLY COLLINS The other day I was ricocheting slowly off the blue walls of this room, moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano, from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor, when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard. No cookie nibbled by a French novelist could send one into the past more suddenly— a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp by a deep Adirondack lake learning how to braid long thin plastic strips into a lanyard, a gift for my mother. I had never seen anyone use a lanyard or wear one, if that’s what you did with them, but that did not keep me from crossing strand over strand again and again until I had made a boxy red and white lanyard for my mother. She gave me life and milk from her breasts, and I gave her a lanyard. She nursed me in many a sick room, lifted spoons of medicine to my lips, laid cold face-cloths on my forehead, and then led me out into the airy light and taught me to walk and swim, and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard. Here are thousands of meals, she said, and here is clothing and a good education. And here is your lanyard, I replied, which I made with a little help from a counselor. Here is a breathing body and a beating heart, strong legs, bones and teeth, and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered, and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp. And here, I wish to say to her now, is a smaller gift—not the worn truth that you can never repay your mother, but the rueful admission that when she took the two-tone lanyard from my hand, I was as sure as a boy could be that this useless, worthless thing I wove out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

The Milkmaid and the Holy Man

In the July-September, 2002 edition of Pulpit Resource, Carole Noren relates the story Linda Hutton of Disciples of Christ in Community tells about a milkmaid and a holy man. 

The holy man lived in such a remote place that he relied on her to bring him his daily food and milk. The milkmaid, however, often arrived later than the holy man wanted. One day after he chewed her out for this, she explained why she was perpetually tardy. The milkmaid explained that she had to walk a long way along a river’s bank before she could reach a bridge that would carry her to the river’s other side. So the holy man suggested that she, instead of crossing the bridge, walk across the water. That would save the milkmaid time and perhaps keep her from being late every day. 

From then on the milkmaid was never late. That, however, piqued the holy man’s curiosity. So he asked her how she now consistently managed to arrive so early. “Why, sir,” she answered, “I did as you told me. I walk across the waters of the river.” At this the holy man said, “This I must see. Let me go with you, child, as you return to the village. I believe I can surely walk on water, if someone like you can.” 

When they reached the river, the milkmaid boldly stepped into the water and walked to it other side. When she turned to watch the holy man, he hiked up his robe and stepped into the river. However, after the man took a few hesitant steps he began to sink. So the milkmaid ran back across the waters to help him to shore. 

“What happened?” the shaken holy man asked her. “Well, sir,” she answered, “you said you believed you could walk across the waters, but you gathered up your robes so as not to get the hem wet.”

Presents of God

PRESENTS FILL THE TEMPLE

A dear elderly lady was teaching the four and five year old Sunday School class at her church. During one of the lessons, they were learning about he building of the temple. She explained to the students that when the temple was finished, the presence of the Lord filled the temple. 

Instantly the eyes of each child got wide and full of excitement. Soon she discovered, however, that the source of their excitement was not joy that God had come to dwell in the temple, but rather, delight in the imagining that huge building filled with the presents of God! 

Aren’t we often much like those children? We are easily more excited about our presents from God that being in the presence of God.

Radical Hospitality

His name was Bill. He had wild hair, wore a T-shirt with holes in it, jeans, and shoes with no socks. This was his wardrobe during four years of college. Though mildly eccentric, he was a brilliant person. He became a Christian while attending college.

Across from the campus was a traditional church. They wanted to develop a ministry to students, but weren't sure how to go about it. One day Bill decided to go worship there. He walked in with his wild hair, T-shirt with holes in it, jeans, and shoes with no socks. The service had started. Bill started down the aisle looking for a seat but the church was full.

By now people were looking a bit uncomfortable, but no one said anything. Bill got closer and closer to the front, when he realized there were no seats. He just sat down right on the floor. Although perfectly acceptable behavior at a college fellowship, this had never happened in this church! By now the people were really uptight, and the tension in the air was thick.

A deacon slowly made his way toward Bill. This deacon was in his eighties, a distinguished man with silver-gray hair and a three-piece suit. He walked with a cane. Everyone thought, "You can't blame him for what he's going to do. How could you expect a man of his age and background to understand some college kid, thinking he can worship sitting on the floor?"

It took time for the man to reach the boy. The church became utterly silent, except for the clicking of the man's cane on the tiled floor. All eyes focused on him. When the elderly deacon got next to the boy, he dropped his cane to the floor. With great difficulty he lowered himself and asked Bill, "May I sit with you?" The man sat down next to Bill and worshiped with him, so he wouldn't be alone.

That's what the birth of Jesus means.

• Radical action.
• Radical behavior.
• Radical gospel.
• Radical Savior.
• Radical God.

Trouble Tree

I hired a plumber to help me restore an old farmhouse, and after he had just finished a rough first day on the job: a flat tire made him lose an hour of work, his electric drill quit and his ancient one ton truck refused to start.

While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence. On arriving, he invited me in to meet his family. As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands.

When opening the door he underwent an amazing transformation.. His face was wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss.

Afterward he walked me to the car. We passed the tree and my curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier.

'Oh, that's my trouble tree,' he replied 'I know I can't help having troubles on the job, but one thing's for sure, those troubles don't belong in the house with my wife and the children.. So I just hang them up on the tree every night when I come home and ask God to take care of them. Then in the morning I pick them up again.' 'Funny thing is,' he smiled,' when I come out in the morning to pick 'em up, there aren't nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before.

Revival - Who's the Winner?

A young Methodist pastor was ready for his first appointment. As is often the case, his DS gave him an enthusiastic pep talk before he moved to the small rural town that boasted one Methodist church, one Presbyterian church and one Baptist church.

"This church has a lot of potential!" his DS said. "But they've been under-performing. They haven't had any new members in three years. I want you to go and help this congregation become the congregation that God is calling them to be!"

The young man moved to the town, got settled in the parsonage, and "got his feet under him" with his new appointment. A few months after his move, he called the pastors of the other two churches and asked them to meet him for lunch.

"I've got a great idea that is going to help all of our churches," he said. "Let's have a revival! We can bring in a dynamic preacher, organize our churches to do mission work in the community, and have lots of delicious meals together. There are a lot of unchurched people in our town - let's show them what our churches have to offer!"

The other pastors agreed; and the revival was held. It was glorious! The preaching was inspired, the mission work made an impression on the community; and the food was, indeed, delicious.

A month after the revival, the young pastor again called a lunch meeting, so the pastors could evaluate the revival.

"I am so excited to meet with you!" he said. "I can't wait to tell you that our church - which hasn't had a new member in three years - welcomed four new families to our congregation after the revival!"

The Presbyterian pastor shared his enthusiasm: "That's great!" he said. And I want to tell you that we had six new families join our church after the revival. God is good!

The two men looked at the Baptist pastor, who said, simply: "Well, I have to confess, we did not have any new families join our church after the revival."

The other two pastors didn't know what to say.

But then a slow smile spread across the face of the Baptist pastor. "But we had ten of the most negative, meanest, most stubborn and least welcoming families leave our church, and our church has never been healthier or happier!"