Pastor Don's Ponderings

  It never ceases to amaze me, whether in the supermarket, sporting events, on the street, during worship or even at funeral services, people seem driven to take pictures of themselves at every given opportunity. 'Selfies', as they are known, permeate the airwaves and digital footprint of media, including television stations, Instagram, Facebook, LinkedIn, and so many more. It is as though a picture of a sunset alone is never going to be enough, it can only be made better if our faces frame the picture! Oy! On the one hand, a selfie is a step higher on the palatability scale than a picture of a plate of food yet, on the other hand, most folk do not have the required equipment for a 'good' selfie, a 'selfie-stick', which extends the cell phone farther from those being photographed, thus making the 'un-sticked' selfies almost exclusively close-ups. No one wants to be that close to me, not even my wife and kids.  Is it subliminal narcissism which drives us ...

"A voice cries: "In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken."  (Isaiah 40:3-5 NRSV) The story was recently told of a boss who, when confronted with their lack of production, absence of truthfulness, and willingness to plagiarize without thought of credit to others, simply looked at the person leveling the complaint and shouted, 'Do you know who I am?" A thousand potential answers filled the recipient's mind at that moment, but silence seemed to be the most appropriate and, given that the two Board members present offered no support, the intimidation of the bully-boss held sway. So it seems to continue in a myriad of ways in our culture today, '...

  Believe it or not, I remember a day when, driving from Red Bud, Illinois, to Marissa, Illinois, you would see little more than farm ground, blue sky and farmhouses. Today, on that same drive you can easily observe two exhaust plumes, or steam plumes - as I was corrected, rising into the skies from two coal-burning power plants, located approximately twelve miles apart, as the crow flies. Why tell you this? Because I have recently been made aware that my stories are more aligned with a Geezer mindset than that of a Pastor. Something about, 'I remember a day when . . .' as an introduction to telling stories has become a warning to others, either to politely find other things to do or settle in for a history lesson from a person who has lived the ancient experience they are going to describe in great detail for you. Well, after pondering on that revelation for a while, it occurred to me to just gratefully and gracefully embrace it - for I have now apparently lived long enough to...

 "The desert and the dry land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom like the crocus . . . The will see the Lord's glory, the splendor of our God." Isaiah 35:1, 2c Most days, I have only to walk in the house and it becomes apparent that our good friend, Mellanie Portz, has been by. Usually the tell-tale sign is a flower from her garden in a simple bottle or small vase, sometimes it is something on which to nibble and yet at other times it is a mention of something which she has read and is recommending for us to consider. Always the gift. Always the smile. Always the thoughtfulness. This particular vestige of a recent visit was sitting on our counter when I arrived home after a long day at the office. Maybe I am deluding myself, but in my heart I believe that many folk imagine that Pastors just sit in their offices all day, read scripture, play their favorite music, consider the lilies of the valley, ponder the open tomb, then prepare for next Sunday inspir...

 Looking at this picture of our granddaughter, Liza, and grandniece, Lily, it occurs to me that our culture spends far too much time insisting on giving children answers, rather than inviting them to imagine, inquire and explore. Maybe if we spent more time considering the place of the princess or prince in our life, and less time insisting that we be named king of all there is forevermore, we would find more joy and laughter in life and less stress on our heart. In these days of Covid-19, nearing elections, the causes of injustice and inequality in our world, and the general malaise concerning the care and welfare of anyone other than the person in the mirror, take a moment to step back from all of your pat and certain answers and watch a child at play . . . and learn. As much as most of us disdain the inevitable youngster's questions of, 'Why?' or 'How much longer?', perhaps it is time we look to our Parent God and, as the child, ask the question . . . then wait f...

Sometimes it seems that our American culture has become so obsessed with rooting out the worst seen in each other that we have lost our own sense of the good God has placed in each one of God's own children. It is as if the Kingdom can only be that which we approve it as being. When Jesus speaks in parables concerning the Kingdom of God in the Gospel according to Matthew, He teaches about the tiny mustard seed, the beautiful pearl, the hidden treasure, the yeast . . . and of a Sower who casts seeds about willy-nilly, and of a Landowner willing to allow the weeds to grow up along with the wheat until the day of harvest. In telling His parables, I wonder if Jesus ever took into account the possibility that the created would one day weary of searching for the plantings of the Creator? That rather than seek the mustard seed we would only be happy with the full-grown bush? That instead of treasuring the found pearl we would insist on the full jewelry store? That instead of committing ou...

Jeremiah received the Lord’s word: Go down to the potter’s house, and I’ll give you instructions about what to do there. So I went down to the potter’s house; he was working on the potter’s wheel.  But the piece he was making was flawed while still in his hands, so the potter started on another, as seemed best to him.  Then the Lord’s word came to me: House of Israel,  can’t I deal with you like this potter, declares the Lord?  Like clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in mine, house of Israel! Jeremiah 18:1-6 CEB   The good news is this: We are in God’s hands. We may be cracked, flawed, weak, unprepared, seemingly unusable, unstable or even outright broken, yet we are still in God’s hands. I don’t know about you, but I am clinging to that good news with all my heart, mind and spirit!! Pulling down statues does not change history. Changing your heart and being molded by the Potter transforms the present and the future. Covid-19 exploits our weaknesses...

"The eye cannot say to the hand, "I have no need of you," (I Cor. 12.29a NRSV) Watching teams of horses or mules work together fascinates me. Whether it is a team of Clydesdales plowing a field or the huge team of Clydesdales which pull the Anheuser Busch Wagon around Busch Stadium, whether it is a team of Belgiums pulling a corn picker in the Fall or Percherons pulling a hayfork up a barn, it never ceases to amaze me how they can work together - and work together with the person driving them. In musing over that thought, it occurs to me that we may have lost that notion in these days, with the animals we raise and train - and with the people standing right beside us: We all have to work together and have need of each other. Can you imagine how a field would be plowed if one of the horses told the other they weren't needed? Can you imagine where the horses would be if the person walking behind didn't hold and guide the plow? And, for that matter, where wo...

Driving through the countryside in the Spring of the year I pay special attention to where daffodils and surprise lilies poke through with their welcome of warmer days. Often, if one pays attention, you can see by the presence of unexpected flowers where a farm house once stood, where a flower garden used to proudly bloom or where once a driveway was marked with a colorful welcome to strangers. If you pause long enough to consider it, you can hear the laughter of children, the bellowing of cattle in the long-gone pasture or even observe laundry flapping in the wind, all reminders that few things stay the same and generations do pass, along with the things they held precious, including their toys. Abandoned swing sets and forgotten teddy bears may well be two of the more notable markers of my age, the remnants of childhood play now quiet and forlorn. Other assorted playmates would be the toy tractors and implements which, outgrown, found themselves silently left in the forever...

OUR WORLD WOULD DO WELL TO REMEMBER THAT ASCENDING TO THE KINGDOM IS NOT ACCOMPLISHED BY STANDING ON THE SHOULDERS OF OTHERS, BUT BY BOWING DOWN BEFORE OTHERS IN HUMBLE SERVICE, EVEN WHEN YOU KNOW THEY WILL BETRAY YOU. STILL YOU HAVE FAITH, STILL YOU BOW DOWN, STILL YOU SERVE. ALLOW GOD TO TAKE CARE OF THE REST. (c)dcw2020

I love the photography of my friend and colleague, Fr. Jerry Schweitzer, who resides in Northern Indiana. He publishes a daily meditation which includes his photographs and, truth be told, most days I find myself just looking into the pictures he provides and imagining my place in each setting. Jerry, and so many others like him, have the God-given capacity to see with God's eyes, to intuitively capture a moment, an event or an environment, and then invite others to marvel with them at the sight. This scene holds me fast . . . On the shoreline of Lake Michigan, at a place where once someone sat and took in its beauty and power, where a fence divides the land to the place where the waters cannot be divided, and where under snow and blustery winds there still resides the vestiges of summers past: The windswept grasses tell their tales and shifting sands reveal their secrets. Here we meet ourselves. Here we see our reflections. Here we tremble, not for Winter's wind, but fo...