I like the story about a rather legalistic Seminary student who wanted to have a scriptural basis for everything he did. He felt he was on solid ground if he could quote Bible book, chapter & verse to okay his actions.
He did all right with that until he began to fall in love with a beautiful college student. He wanted very much to kiss her, but he just couldn’t find a scripture to okay it. So, true to his conscience, he would simply walk her to the dormitory each night, look at her longingly, & then say "Good night."
This went on for several weeks, & all the time he was searching the Bible, trying to find some scripture to okay kissing her good night. But he couldn’t find one, until finally he came across that passage in Romans that says, "Greet each other with a holy kiss." He thought, "At last, I have scriptural authority for kissing her good night."
But to be sure, he went to his hermeneutics professor to check it out. After talking with the professor, he realized that the passage dealt more with a church setting than with a dating situation. So once again he simply didn’t have a passage of scripture to okay kissing his girl good night.
That evening he walked her to the dormitory & once again started to bid her "good night." But as he did, she grabbed him, pulled him toward her, & planted a 10-second kiss right on his lips.
At the end of the kiss, the Seminary student gasped for air, & stammered, "Bible verse, Bible verse." The girl grabbed him a 2nd time, & just before kissing him again, said, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
All in a Day's Work
There was a man who was in desperate need – all he needed was a little cash and he could get by. So he decided to go from house to house to see if there were any odd jobs he could do. After being turned down by several home owners he came upon a house where an older woman answered the door. He gave his usual pitch and to his surprise the woman said yes should could use some help – it was perfect that he happened to stop by for the painter she hired had just then cancelled on her.
She told the man, "I need my porch painted. Walk around to the back of the house and there you’ll see the porch, the paint and all the equipment needed. When you're done, come back to the front door and I’ll pay you $500."
This was better than he expected. He walked around to the back and to his surprise and delight, everything he needed was there ready to go. He set to work taping and prepping, then fired up the paint sprayer and in no time he was done.
The woman of the house was surprised that the man was so quick, but, she thought, maybe he had a lot of experience as a painter – so she counted him out the cash. The man pocketed the cash, thanked the women and as he was leaving he hesitated and said, “By the way lady, you need to know, it's not a Porsche that you have parked back there, it’s a Mercedes Benz.
She told the man, "I need my porch painted. Walk around to the back of the house and there you’ll see the porch, the paint and all the equipment needed. When you're done, come back to the front door and I’ll pay you $500."
This was better than he expected. He walked around to the back and to his surprise and delight, everything he needed was there ready to go. He set to work taping and prepping, then fired up the paint sprayer and in no time he was done.
The woman of the house was surprised that the man was so quick, but, she thought, maybe he had a lot of experience as a painter – so she counted him out the cash. The man pocketed the cash, thanked the women and as he was leaving he hesitated and said, “By the way lady, you need to know, it's not a Porsche that you have parked back there, it’s a Mercedes Benz.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Surrounded by Witnesses
In 1845, a group of Christians gathered in a rural area of Pennsylvania and formed a Lutheran congregation. Eventually, a church building was erected outside the town of Wexford. The faithful people of Trinity Lutheran Church met in this building. They married there, they baptized their babies there, they served the Lord faithfully, and they buried their dead in the little graveyard outside the church walls. As the years passed, the number of saints that was added to the graveyard increased, until the church was surrounded by tombstones.
The little congregation grew, and an education building was erected next to the church so the people could teach their children, youth and adults the stories of Jesus. And the church continued to grow. Eventually, the little congregation outgrew their sanctuary. A building committee met to discuss their options. The decision seemed to be an easy one - the most logical thing to do would be to build a new sanctuary and attach it to the education building. There was plenty of land available for this purpose, and it would mean that people would no longer have to walk 100 yards in Pennsylvania winters to get from Sunday school to worship.
But the church was not so quick to embrace this sensible plan. And, in fact, after years of debate, the church members voted instead to undertake a limited expansion of their current sanctuary. This was not a logical choice, but the decision made sense to the church members who wanted to preserve their church’s unique identity of being completely surrounded by its cemetery.
This was not a morbid decision. It was an acknowledgment by the members that their present congregation not only rested on the witness of the saints in Scripture to the grace of God in Jesus the Christ, but also through the witness of all who had contributed their own witness to the faith in the life of their congregation.
You see, no one can enter the church building for worship without walking past the graves of those who served the congregation in the past. And on every Sunday morning, weather permitting, various people from the congregation can be seen standing before tombstones after the service, remembering those whom they have loved, and who have contributed to their own faith.
[adapted from a story told by Ronald Harbaugh in his sermon, "The Faithful are all Saints"]
The little congregation grew, and an education building was erected next to the church so the people could teach their children, youth and adults the stories of Jesus. And the church continued to grow. Eventually, the little congregation outgrew their sanctuary. A building committee met to discuss their options. The decision seemed to be an easy one - the most logical thing to do would be to build a new sanctuary and attach it to the education building. There was plenty of land available for this purpose, and it would mean that people would no longer have to walk 100 yards in Pennsylvania winters to get from Sunday school to worship.
But the church was not so quick to embrace this sensible plan. And, in fact, after years of debate, the church members voted instead to undertake a limited expansion of their current sanctuary. This was not a logical choice, but the decision made sense to the church members who wanted to preserve their church’s unique identity of being completely surrounded by its cemetery.
This was not a morbid decision. It was an acknowledgment by the members that their present congregation not only rested on the witness of the saints in Scripture to the grace of God in Jesus the Christ, but also through the witness of all who had contributed their own witness to the faith in the life of their congregation.
You see, no one can enter the church building for worship without walking past the graves of those who served the congregation in the past. And on every Sunday morning, weather permitting, various people from the congregation can be seen standing before tombstones after the service, remembering those whom they have loved, and who have contributed to their own faith.
[adapted from a story told by Ronald Harbaugh in his sermon, "The Faithful are all Saints"]
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Pay it Forward
Have you ever wanted something to go so well, so perfectly, only to find that your plans have been frustrated, your high ideals have been dashed, and you’ve come to a place where you’re not even sure you’ll be able to extricate yourself from the mess you’ve made?
This was the situation that Dana James found himself in during his honeymoon journey twenty years ago. Dana and Patricia James were young, they were in love, and they had high expectations of what life had to offer them. Patricia was a student in law school. Dana worked for Northwest Airlines. They had very little money, but Dana was determined that he and Patricia would enjoy an unforgettable honeymoon.
Because he worked for an airlines, Dana was able to get very cheap first-class airline tickets and generous discounts at hotels. Although his personal finances were extremely restricted, he planned a five-star honeymoon trip to the far East for himself and Patricia. This would be a trip of a lifetime, and they would be able to travel on a shoestring! He and Patricia even figured they could conserve their money by skipping a few meals here and there and rely on enjoying the dining on-board the airplane. With very little money in their pockets, they set out with high expectations.
On their outbound flight, Dana and Patricia settled comfortably into their first-class seats for the lengthy journey. They noticed a diminutive Japanese gentleman seated near them. During the course of the flight, the gentleman came to their seats and struck up a conversation with them. He asked where they were going and they told him their itinerary. “Oh,” he said, “you are not traveling to Japan?” “We would like to very much,” Patricia replied. “My mother is in fact Japanese and my father is African-American. But we do not have enough money to travel to Japan.” “That is too bad,” the man said. He walked back to his seat and then returned with a binder filled with business cards. Dana reports that there were over two dozen business cards for different businesses naming Mr. George Ishiyama as CEO or Founder. The businesses were diverse: salt mining, construction, paper mills, etc. Dana and Patricia did not know whether to be impressed or concerned.
Mr. Ishiyama selected a card and wrote his phone number on the back. “If you are ever in Japan,” he said, “call me.” It was an offer of hospitality. But why? Why would a man strike up a conversation with two people he had never met and offer to show them hospitality they had not requested? Dana and Patricia did not know what to think. Looking back, Patricia says that she figured it was an easy offer to make, since the couple was not likely to take him up on it. The gesture was a grand one, but really, these were just empty words.
Dana and Patricia continued on their journey. Although they had very little money, they managed to enjoy themselves for several weeks in some memorable locations. Then, they found themselves with a layover in Tokyo. And their clever plan to see the world on a shoestring failed. Northwest Airlines was changing over to a new computer system. And on the day that change occurred, as Dana and Patricia were awaiting their next flight, their carefully planned itinerary was deleted from the system. They had no outbound flight. They were told that the problem could be remedied, but that they would have to wait three days. Between them, they had $130 U.S. dollars. A bowl of noodles in the airport cost $30. There was no way they could afford shelter and food for three days, and they weren’t certain that the airport would allow them to live in the terminal over the weekend.
When the truth of their situation hit home, Patricia, weary from traveling and fearful of their fate in this foreign country, sat amongst the luggage, put her head down and cried. Dana, the groom, kicked into survival mode and tried to find some way to salvage this honeymoon he thought he had so carefully planned. He paced the airport terminal, and as he did so, he put his hand in his pocket. There he found the card that Mr. Ishiyama had given him.
“Surely he didn’t mean anything to come of this,” he thought. “But I’m just that desperate.” He placed a call to the number he had been given. When a woman answered in Japanese at the other end of the line, Dana gave her his name. “Oh, yes, Mr. James,” she said. “Mr. Ishiyama has been expecting your call. I’ll put you through.” Dana was shocked. But when Mr. Ishiyama came on the line, Dana explained his situation.
“Do you have enough money for a taxi into town?” Mr. Ishiyama asked. Dana honestly had no idea how much that would cost, but he said he did. Mr. Ishiyama gave Dana the name of a hotel and asked him to meet him there. In truth, Dana and Patricia did not even have enough money for the taxi, but they were able to find a shuttle bus that delivered them to the door of the hotel. As they stepped off the bus, two employees of the hotel came forward to escort them and their luggage to a room. Dana gave them his credit card, but they waved it away. “Mr. Ishiyama will be here shortly,” they said. “Please, freshen up.”
What a bizarre situation! Here are two young people, stranded in Tokyo. It is the mid-eighties. There are no cell phones, no Internet - none of their friends or family know where they are. They barely have enough money left to buy one meal in this expensive town. And here they are “freshening up” in a five-star hotel as the guests of a man they don’t know and barely even met! When they got the call that Mr. Ishiyama was downstairs, they left their room. Both Dana and Patricia admit that they were frankly terrified. Raised in urban Chicago, Dana feared the worst. What had he gotten himself and his bride into? What did this man want from them? Nobody would give a stranger such elaborate accommodations. Nobody would be so gracious to two people he met on a plane! Surely, there must be an ulterior motive. Perhaps a very unpleasant one. In the elevator, Dana actually told Patricia that if things went south, he would attack Mr. Ishiyama. In that event, Patricia was to run, screaming loudly, and not look back.
They met Mr. Ishiyama in the restaurant. They were highly nervous, but they made pleasantries. Then Mr. Ishiyama told them his story. When I was a child, he said, my family lived in Los Angeles. I was 20 years old when my family, and all our neighbors, were sent to an internment camp in Wyoming after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. We were taken from our homes, our businesses, our comforts, and we were forced to put our lives on hold. It was a terrible time. The people in the town near our camp were not kind to us. Except one family. There was a young African-American couple who lived near the camp. He was a postal carrier. They treated us as neighbors and allowed our children to play with their children. They treated us as human.”
“I have never forgotten their kindness. When I saw you two on the plane, I was reminded of this couple. I cannot repay them for what they did for me and my family. But I can share this story with you. Mr. Ishiyama reached in his pocket and then took Dana’s hand. He put into his hand a huge was of Japanese yen. “Enjoy your honeymoon,” he said.
Patricia started to cry. Here they were, in a scary and uncertain position, and this man, who they did not even know, was giving them a solution to their problems. They had been desperate, but they had also been suspicious and fearful. But here was only love and kindness and generosity for a fellow traveler in need.
[Heard on "The Story" from American Public Media: http://thestory.org/archive/the_story_873_Unexpected_Honeymoon.mp3/view]
This was the situation that Dana James found himself in during his honeymoon journey twenty years ago. Dana and Patricia James were young, they were in love, and they had high expectations of what life had to offer them. Patricia was a student in law school. Dana worked for Northwest Airlines. They had very little money, but Dana was determined that he and Patricia would enjoy an unforgettable honeymoon.
Because he worked for an airlines, Dana was able to get very cheap first-class airline tickets and generous discounts at hotels. Although his personal finances were extremely restricted, he planned a five-star honeymoon trip to the far East for himself and Patricia. This would be a trip of a lifetime, and they would be able to travel on a shoestring! He and Patricia even figured they could conserve their money by skipping a few meals here and there and rely on enjoying the dining on-board the airplane. With very little money in their pockets, they set out with high expectations.
On their outbound flight, Dana and Patricia settled comfortably into their first-class seats for the lengthy journey. They noticed a diminutive Japanese gentleman seated near them. During the course of the flight, the gentleman came to their seats and struck up a conversation with them. He asked where they were going and they told him their itinerary. “Oh,” he said, “you are not traveling to Japan?” “We would like to very much,” Patricia replied. “My mother is in fact Japanese and my father is African-American. But we do not have enough money to travel to Japan.” “That is too bad,” the man said. He walked back to his seat and then returned with a binder filled with business cards. Dana reports that there were over two dozen business cards for different businesses naming Mr. George Ishiyama as CEO or Founder. The businesses were diverse: salt mining, construction, paper mills, etc. Dana and Patricia did not know whether to be impressed or concerned.
Mr. Ishiyama selected a card and wrote his phone number on the back. “If you are ever in Japan,” he said, “call me.” It was an offer of hospitality. But why? Why would a man strike up a conversation with two people he had never met and offer to show them hospitality they had not requested? Dana and Patricia did not know what to think. Looking back, Patricia says that she figured it was an easy offer to make, since the couple was not likely to take him up on it. The gesture was a grand one, but really, these were just empty words.
Dana and Patricia continued on their journey. Although they had very little money, they managed to enjoy themselves for several weeks in some memorable locations. Then, they found themselves with a layover in Tokyo. And their clever plan to see the world on a shoestring failed. Northwest Airlines was changing over to a new computer system. And on the day that change occurred, as Dana and Patricia were awaiting their next flight, their carefully planned itinerary was deleted from the system. They had no outbound flight. They were told that the problem could be remedied, but that they would have to wait three days. Between them, they had $130 U.S. dollars. A bowl of noodles in the airport cost $30. There was no way they could afford shelter and food for three days, and they weren’t certain that the airport would allow them to live in the terminal over the weekend.
When the truth of their situation hit home, Patricia, weary from traveling and fearful of their fate in this foreign country, sat amongst the luggage, put her head down and cried. Dana, the groom, kicked into survival mode and tried to find some way to salvage this honeymoon he thought he had so carefully planned. He paced the airport terminal, and as he did so, he put his hand in his pocket. There he found the card that Mr. Ishiyama had given him.
“Surely he didn’t mean anything to come of this,” he thought. “But I’m just that desperate.” He placed a call to the number he had been given. When a woman answered in Japanese at the other end of the line, Dana gave her his name. “Oh, yes, Mr. James,” she said. “Mr. Ishiyama has been expecting your call. I’ll put you through.” Dana was shocked. But when Mr. Ishiyama came on the line, Dana explained his situation.
“Do you have enough money for a taxi into town?” Mr. Ishiyama asked. Dana honestly had no idea how much that would cost, but he said he did. Mr. Ishiyama gave Dana the name of a hotel and asked him to meet him there. In truth, Dana and Patricia did not even have enough money for the taxi, but they were able to find a shuttle bus that delivered them to the door of the hotel. As they stepped off the bus, two employees of the hotel came forward to escort them and their luggage to a room. Dana gave them his credit card, but they waved it away. “Mr. Ishiyama will be here shortly,” they said. “Please, freshen up.”
What a bizarre situation! Here are two young people, stranded in Tokyo. It is the mid-eighties. There are no cell phones, no Internet - none of their friends or family know where they are. They barely have enough money left to buy one meal in this expensive town. And here they are “freshening up” in a five-star hotel as the guests of a man they don’t know and barely even met! When they got the call that Mr. Ishiyama was downstairs, they left their room. Both Dana and Patricia admit that they were frankly terrified. Raised in urban Chicago, Dana feared the worst. What had he gotten himself and his bride into? What did this man want from them? Nobody would give a stranger such elaborate accommodations. Nobody would be so gracious to two people he met on a plane! Surely, there must be an ulterior motive. Perhaps a very unpleasant one. In the elevator, Dana actually told Patricia that if things went south, he would attack Mr. Ishiyama. In that event, Patricia was to run, screaming loudly, and not look back.
They met Mr. Ishiyama in the restaurant. They were highly nervous, but they made pleasantries. Then Mr. Ishiyama told them his story. When I was a child, he said, my family lived in Los Angeles. I was 20 years old when my family, and all our neighbors, were sent to an internment camp in Wyoming after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. We were taken from our homes, our businesses, our comforts, and we were forced to put our lives on hold. It was a terrible time. The people in the town near our camp were not kind to us. Except one family. There was a young African-American couple who lived near the camp. He was a postal carrier. They treated us as neighbors and allowed our children to play with their children. They treated us as human.”
“I have never forgotten their kindness. When I saw you two on the plane, I was reminded of this couple. I cannot repay them for what they did for me and my family. But I can share this story with you. Mr. Ishiyama reached in his pocket and then took Dana’s hand. He put into his hand a huge was of Japanese yen. “Enjoy your honeymoon,” he said.
Patricia started to cry. Here they were, in a scary and uncertain position, and this man, who they did not even know, was giving them a solution to their problems. They had been desperate, but they had also been suspicious and fearful. But here was only love and kindness and generosity for a fellow traveler in need.
[Heard on "The Story" from American Public Media: http://thestory.org/archive/the_story_873_Unexpected_Honeymoon.mp3/view]
Friday, September 18, 2009
A Golf Joke
There were three people in heaven who decided one day to play a round of golf at the heavenly country club. The first man stepped up to the tee, hit his drive, and watched as it headed straight for the water hazard. Just as the ball was about to land in the water, he raised his club, pointed it out over the water, and the waters parted, allowing the ball to land on dry ground. He walked out between the two columns of water, and hit a perfect second shot, right in the middle of the green. One of his partners said, “Wow, good shot, Moses!” The second man walked up to the tee, hit his drive, and watched as it took a nearly identical flight path, straight toward the water. But when the ball hit, it landed and stayed right on top of the water. He walked out across the water and hit a second shot which was also identical, landing at the center of the green. Moses told him, “Hey, that’s a pretty good shot yourself, Jesus!” Then the third man came to the tee box, teed up and hit his drive. The drive took a nasty slice and went straight into the trees, caroming off in the wrong direction, heading for the out-of-bounds marker. Right at that moment, a squirrel who happened to be nearby saw the ball and thought it might be good to eat, so it grabbed the ball and started running towards the fairway. When the squirrel was about halfway across the fairway, suddenly an eagle swooped down out of nowhere and grabbed the squirrel in its claws, flying away with both squirrel and ball. Just as the eagle’s flight took it across the green, it lost its grip on the squirrel and dropped it. The squirrel landed flat on its belly, jarring the ball loose, which then took two bounces and landed squarely in the center of the cup. Moses cast a disgusted glance at Jesus and said, “That’s why I can’t STAND to play golf with your Dad.”
Not Quite Good Enough
There was once an optimistic farmer who couldn’t wait to greet each new day with a resounding, "Good morning, God!" He lived near a woman whose morning greeting was more like, "Good God... morning?" They were each a trial to the other. Where he saw opportunity, she saw problems. Where he was satisfied, she was discontented. One bright morning he exclaimed, "Look at the beautiful sky! Did you see that glorious sunrise?" "Yeah," she countered. "It’ll probably get so hot the crops will scorch!" During an afternoon shower, he commented, "Isn’t this wonderful? Mother Nature is giving the corn a drink today!” And if it doesn’t stop before too long," came the sour reply, "we’ll wish we’d taken out flood insurance on the crops!" Convinced that he could instill some awe and wonder in her hardened attitude, he bought a remarkable dog. It could perform remarkable and impossible feats, which, the farmer thought, would surely amaze even his neighbor. So he invited her to watch his dog perform.” Fetch!" he commanded, as he tossed a stick out into a lake. The dog bounded after the stick, walked on the water, and retrieved it. "What do you think of that?" he asked, smiling. "Not much of a dog" she frowned. "Can’t even swim, can he?"
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Actions Speak Louder Than Words
[This story was told by Rev. Grace Imathiu at the Christian Educators Fellowship Conference in New Orleans in October of 2002.]
Back in 1989, I was a student at Cambridge University in England. I was doing research on the beginnings of the Methodist Church in Kenya. And I was very curious because my Grandfather on my father’s side was among the very first Christians in my home area. And my father was so grateful for the missionaries who came all the way to Kenya that my father named all his children after the missionaries. Even my grandmother, Grace, chose to let go of her African name and take the name of Grace Alvaden (sp?), the first missionary from England to die in Nehru (sp?), my hometown. My brother Fred is named after Fred Valenda (sp?), another missionary. Oh, we loved these men and women who left their culture, their homelife, to bring us the Good News of Jesus Christ! And I was reading so much about them in 1989 - I went to the library in London where the Methodist Missionary Society keeps its papers, and I read the letters - handwritten! - by these figures who had become legends and myths and ancestors to my Christian faith.
And one letter in there was a letter from one of my Grandfather’s favorite mentors - a letter from my Grandfather’s spiritual mother and father. And in that letter, there was attached another letter from the missionary’s wife, and she was describing how one day she got homesick for the kind of food they have in England. And so she decided to cook for her husband some scones, that look like muffins. And she said that she was making the scones. And she got them ready. And she called her husband indoors. She went to the kitchen to get the tea, and she heard him say, “How wonderful - scones! And they have raisins in them!” Well, she dropped the kettle right there and then! She had not put any raisins in the scones! She rushed over, stopped him from putting them in his mouth, and they did the investigation. You would not believe, they found in the flour bin a dead mother rat and a small baby rat. And the raisins were not raisins, but - you know what! My goodness!
Now the story would have been funny if it had stopped there. But she went on to write and say, “I did not waste those scones. I gave them to my African boys. And they liked them very much, because I had put plenty of jam on them.”
And when I read that letter, I could not believe these words. And my whole world crashed right there. My entire trust in God crashed right there. How could anyone pack their suitcase and their Bible and travel all the way across the sea to innocent African people, who trust them with their very lives, who gave up their culture and their names....My faith found itself in such a slippery place. It fell, and shattered. And I promised I would not be a Christian, I would not be a Methodist, if this was what Methodism was about.
Back in 1989, I was a student at Cambridge University in England. I was doing research on the beginnings of the Methodist Church in Kenya. And I was very curious because my Grandfather on my father’s side was among the very first Christians in my home area. And my father was so grateful for the missionaries who came all the way to Kenya that my father named all his children after the missionaries. Even my grandmother, Grace, chose to let go of her African name and take the name of Grace Alvaden (sp?), the first missionary from England to die in Nehru (sp?), my hometown. My brother Fred is named after Fred Valenda (sp?), another missionary. Oh, we loved these men and women who left their culture, their homelife, to bring us the Good News of Jesus Christ! And I was reading so much about them in 1989 - I went to the library in London where the Methodist Missionary Society keeps its papers, and I read the letters - handwritten! - by these figures who had become legends and myths and ancestors to my Christian faith.
And one letter in there was a letter from one of my Grandfather’s favorite mentors - a letter from my Grandfather’s spiritual mother and father. And in that letter, there was attached another letter from the missionary’s wife, and she was describing how one day she got homesick for the kind of food they have in England. And so she decided to cook for her husband some scones, that look like muffins. And she said that she was making the scones. And she got them ready. And she called her husband indoors. She went to the kitchen to get the tea, and she heard him say, “How wonderful - scones! And they have raisins in them!” Well, she dropped the kettle right there and then! She had not put any raisins in the scones! She rushed over, stopped him from putting them in his mouth, and they did the investigation. You would not believe, they found in the flour bin a dead mother rat and a small baby rat. And the raisins were not raisins, but - you know what! My goodness!
Now the story would have been funny if it had stopped there. But she went on to write and say, “I did not waste those scones. I gave them to my African boys. And they liked them very much, because I had put plenty of jam on them.”
And when I read that letter, I could not believe these words. And my whole world crashed right there. My entire trust in God crashed right there. How could anyone pack their suitcase and their Bible and travel all the way across the sea to innocent African people, who trust them with their very lives, who gave up their culture and their names....My faith found itself in such a slippery place. It fell, and shattered. And I promised I would not be a Christian, I would not be a Methodist, if this was what Methodism was about.
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