Pastor Don's Ponderings

Have you ever wondered how you look in someone else's eyes? A fair number of people I know keep that concern close in mind as they select the clothes they wear, have their hair done, think about where they might find themselves - and with whom, and even as they choose what fragrance to wear. All that - for what one imagines others might see and perceive. Truth of the matter? Far more people will see you than you will ever know and, to a great extent, they will draw conclusions about you and who you are more by what you do and how you treat others, than by any personal appearance or attitude you work so carefully to project. Don't believe me? Consider this picture. Our farming neighbor across the fields, Judy Feig, sent this picture to me last evening. Seems she was outside their home and caught a glimpse of the setting sun reflecting off the barn at my brother's place and just could not pass on taking a picture and sending it to me. Oddly enough, though, Judy told me that t...

It appeared this morning on today's edition of Sunday Morning on the local CBS network, a segment about the banning of books in our school systems and, by extension, in our local libraries. Much of the segment gave credit for the bans to an organization ironically named, 'Moms for Liberty'. Liberty must certainly have a different meaning today from when I grew up, but I digress. As I viewed the segment and the related story concerning the backlash from others across the country committed to making books, all kinds of books, available to anyone who wants to read them, it occurred to me that if we do not take this kind of oppressive authoritarian behavior seriously now and try to stop it, the next thing you know they will be trying to ban lascivious flowers and their colors, wherever they may be found - because, you know, flowers include the colors of the rainbow - and so much more. Having just received some absolutely stunning pictures of Spring flowers at Diamond Valley La...

 It is Pentecost Sunday, the day the Church of Jesus Christ celebrates being birthed in the wind and fires of Ruah, the Holy Spirit. On that day the disciples were gathered together and the sound of a rushing wind surrounded them and fires as of flames danced on their heads. Their hearts were opened and their lips were inspired to proclaim the Goodness of God through Jesus Christ in the languages of all those who were present around them.  In an instant, these Galileans who were mostly undereducated and unworldly became the purveyors of Wisdom beyond their knowing and Faith beyond their understanding. God was doing a new thing in that moment and, for those who hearts remain open today, God is still at work birthing the Good News in wonderful ways.  Nancy and I recently returned from a vacation given to us by our children as a gift to honor our wedding anniversary and my retirement from fulltime ministry. This trip took us on an eight day, seven night cruise to Alaska, beg...

 "You need to stand and listen to the graves of the saints." In a Zoom meeting the other day, one of the members present observed that it seems our current world culture really has not learned much from our shared past. Referencing the overt bigotry against the LGBTQIA+ community, the ongoing racial unrest in so many forms, the painful grievous nature of the ongoing warfare in Ukraine, and our shared unwillingness to extend mercy and grace to others that they not be brought low by our stiff-necked system of beliefs within the Church itself, another of the participants, a Veteran of the military and of the cross as a minister, quietly, simply said, "You need to stand and listen to the graves of the saints." That so struck me, I wrote it down immediately and have been mulling on that wisdom ever since. What does it mean to, ". . . listen to the graves of the saints"? Then came the most recent of school shootings, this one in a Nashville, Tennessee, Christian...

Your day has come. You raise your head and look around only to discover you are the only one raising your head to look around. Cautiously, you stand on tippy-toe and peer over your taller, non-descript neighbors, hoping on hope that someone, somewhere around you, looks just like you but, it is of no avail. You are alone as you are, in a field of others, with little choice of what to do for yours is a specific gift and calling. So, you bloom.  You bloom boldly, magnificently, proudly and beautifully. You raise your head to the sky and offer to the sun a bit of your color and to the sky a grand, 'Alleluia!'.  You catch the eyes of those who, otherwise, would have just passed by without a notice yet, in you they see the marvelous, delicious nature of God rising out of the mundanity of those around you. They are given reason to pause, to catch their breath and whisper a thanksgiving to the One who set you where you are. You inadvertently, maybe subliminally, transform the narrativ...

 I would never presume to speak for God, nor should anyone. That said, when I look on this young lady, my friend, Savannah Nunn, on the occasion of her Confirmation, I cannot help but wonder what it is God has to say to her, of her, in such a holy moment. What follows is a humble Pastor's pondering around such a conversation, in the form of a letter from God to Savannah as she is Confirmed: Dear Savannah, You make Me smile, even laugh with Delight on this sacred journey! Your quiet beauty lights up the Heavens, just as I always thought you would. Thank you! The stole which you made in the course of your Confirmation class is full of meaning and so very beautiful. Each symbol makes Me pause as I watch you grow in faith. The Descending Dove of the Holy Spirit, as pretty in the blue stained glass rosette window in the Chancel area of your worship home as it is on your stole, touches My heart deeply, for the Holy Spirit has been with you and your family since the beginning of your jour...

 Once upon a time Dad 'fixed up' this old buckboard wagon seat, mounted it on wooden runners and painted it so Mom could have it as an extra seat on the porch. Now that I think about it, I am not nearly so certain Mom was as excited by the renovation project as was Dad - but she nonetheless graciously accepted the gift and put it to use for quite a while. At some point the renovated seat was demoted to the shed as a seat then, finally, to being put away altogether. Such has been its fate for many a year - out of sight, out of mind, until now.  In the course of bringing together many of the old farm tools Dad had stored away, this seat resurfaced and, now looking at it, I am thinking of some questions which should have been asked of Dad a long time ago concerning its origin. Alas, into eternity with the keeper of its history went the answers to any questions which might have been asked - and I am left looking at the seat pondering whether or not to once again restore it and whe...