Showing posts with label service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label service. Show all posts

Thursday, March 8, 2018

Open Our Eyes

Suppose there are brothers or sisters who need clothes and don't have enough to eat. What good is there in your saying to them, “God bless you! Keep warm and eat well!”—if you don't give them the necessities of life?(James 2:15-16)




Note: My continuing education class in Pittsburgh, PA, was told to walk around the surrounding neighborhood and "read the context" to help discern ways for a church to minister to its own community. This prayer comes out of that experience.




Open Our Eyes

Open our eyes, Lord.
As we come to church on Sunday morning,
as we leave church that same day,
as we drive through the neighborhood
  during the week,
as we walk the streets -- 
Open our eyes.

Open our eyes to the strangers in our midst:
  the school children waiting for the bus,
  the men sitting at the bus stop,
  the woman paying for groceries with food stamps,
  the clusters of teenagers hanging around
    in the parking lots,
  "those people" of different race,
  the man with the "will work for food, God bless"
    sign made of old cardboard,
  the fast-food worker walking to her job,
    with another mile yet to go.
Open our eyes. Open our hearts.




Open our eyes to the signs that cry out for hope:
  empty storefronts downtown,
  dilapidated houses just around the corner,
  closed-down factory outside of town,
  drug paraphernalia scattered along the alleyways,
  payday and title loan shops on every corner.
Open our eyes. Open our hearts.

Open our eyes,
for when we see the lonely,
  the sick,
  the drunk,
  the single teenage mother,
  the poor and the homeless,
  the drug addict,
  the foreigner,
  the black, and the "white trash" -- 
when we see any that might qualify as
  "The Least of These"
we see you.




Open our eyes. Open our hearts.
Help us to see you. And to love you.
Help us to love you through our neighbor.
  

Monday, May 29, 2017

Memorial Day -- No Greater Love

“Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends.”John 15:13




Memorial Day. A day to remember, to reflect, and to give thanks.

In the sanctuary of our church, there are two flags. One is the Christian flag, and the other, the flag of the United States of America.

Both flags represent freedom. The Christian flag reminds us of the freedom from sin that Jesus Christ won for us. The American flag reminds us of the freedom we have celebrated as a nation for 241 years, and for the freedom that the citizens of this nation enjoy.

And in both instances, freedom came at a cost. The ultimate cost.

The freedom that Jesus won for us came at the cost of his life. He laid down his life, for us.

The freedom that we enjoy in this great nation also came at the ultimate cost. Over the centuries, countless men and women in the military have given their lives, so that you and I can live in freedom. They laid down their lives, for us. Because they loved this nation, they went to war. For us.

In our town of Georgetown, the local VFW Post recently dedicated a War Memorial that spans all the wars our men and women have fought. It is a beautiful tribute to those who have made the ultimate sacrifice – and to those who were and are currently willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, our veterans and current military personnel.



Jesus said, “No greater love is there than this: that a person is willing to lay down their life for their friends.” Jesus proved his love for you and me, by dying on the cross. 

The men and women for whom we observe this holiday proved their love for this nation, and they paid the ultimate cost. Again, for you and me.

In Katharine Lee Bates's hymn, “America, the Beautiful,” the third stanza begins with these words:

O beautiful for heroes proved in liberating strife, 
Who more than self their country loved, 
And mercy more than life!

Bates captures the spirit that you and I need to remember today. For were there not those “who more than self their country loved,” I'm not sure what our nation (or our world) would be like today. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be as free and prosperous and secure as it is right now.



So today as we enjoy a day at the beach, or an evening barbecue, or a leisurely hike in the mountains, or just a day off – let us do it with a grateful heart.

Because someone who probably didn't even know you, gave their life so that you could enjoy the day.

Remember, and give thanks.





Wednesday, May 17, 2017

On Being a Good Neighbor

“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan ...came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him.”
Luke 10:30-33




Early one morning Carol and I were walking along the beach. We were on an uninhabited stretch of shoreline, and the tide had been ebbing for a couple of hours. After about a half hour, I noticed something in the sand ahead of us. As we got closer, I could tell it was a horseshoe crab, lying on its back. At first I thought it was dead, but then when I tapped it with the toe of my shoe it moved. Evidently the tide had turned the crab upside down, and now it was stuck.

Like a turtle on its back, the horseshoe crab is totally defenseless. The sun will quickly scorch the crab's body, and it will die. Plus, the seagulls and other birds would soon come and begin to peck at it mercilessly. It was a gruesome thought.

This was the first time I had ever seen a horseshoe crab, other than in places like a children's museum. In those instances, the crab was always on its belly, and all saw saw were the shell and the tail, which are harmless. But on its back, it looks kinda scary.

Part of me wanted to help the poor, defenseless thing; it would die without help. But part of me was scared—I mean, there are a lot of pointed things under the shell. Sharp-looking pointed things.



Finally, I realized that I could probably turn it over where it was, and then pick it up on the outside of the shell and position it where the water was coming up onto the beach. So that's what I did. And lo and behold, the crab started to move—ever so slowly—right into the oncoming surf. Soon it had returned to the safety of the water.



I was feeling pretty satisfied with myself, when a couple of hundred yards later I saw another horseshoe crab. This one was much larger, and it was also farther up the beach, to the highest point the tide had reached. It was going to take a lot longer for this one to reach the water, so I ended up picking it up and carrying it part of the way.


So that day I saved, not one, but TWO lives. I did it. Yep, me. Go ahead and nod approvingly—I most certainly deserve it.

But later I thought to myself, “What if I had just walked past the crabs, and did nothing?” They almost certainly would've died...


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Jesus told the story of the man who was robbed and beaten and left for dead on the side of the road. The first two people who came upon the man – the official representatives of God – passed by on the other side of the road. They looked the other way. They did nothing.

Jesus doesn't say why they don't stop to help the man. People have speculated that maybe they were afraid it was a trap, and that robbers would come as soon as they stooped over to help the man. Maybe they were in a hurry and couldn't afford the time to stop and help. Maybe they were aware that contact with blood and/or a dead body would make them ritually unclean and unable to work for at least a week. Maybe they just afraid. We really don't know why; we just know that they didn't stop to help the man.

Whenever I've read that story, I have always shaken my head and whispered, “Tsssk, Tsssk” at the priest and the Levite. “Shameful, they are,” I think to myself.

And yet, how far from them am I, really? I know that there are times when I can offer my help, but I don't. You know the excuses—too busy, not sure I'd know what to do, what if I say or do something wrong?, I'm afraid of messing up...

It turns out that I cross to the other side of the street more than I want to admit. Please don't “Tsssk, Tsssk” me. I'm not proud of it. I don't want to be the one who plays the part of the priest and the Levite. And I'm sure you don't want to be that person, either.

Believe it or not, this actually has something to do with my “heroic” rescue of the horseshoe crabs. You see, when I came across the horseshoe crabs, I was afraid. They scared me. But I took the time to confront my fears, and sought to do the right thing. I didn't let my first impression prevent me from helping one of God's creatures in need.

My encounter with the crabs reminded me how important it is to struggle past the excuses, and offer a helping hand. Compassion and care needs to overcome our fears and our hesitancy. I know this is hard, especially when it means helping a stranger. Strangers can be intimidating, simply because there is so much that we don't know about them. But Jesus reminds us that strangers are our neighbors, too. Or, to be more precise, we are to be a neighbor even to strangers.

Recently a woman came into the office at church. She is a “regular” who comes off the street just about every month. We all know her by name. My first instinct, I'll admit, was, “I'm going to send her on her way. I don't have time for her today.” But then I felt a little nudge (probably God, or the Holy Spirit, go figure): “Let her into the office; hear what she has to say.”

So I spent a little time with her. She has to live off of $735 in disability, and $30 in food stamps each month. She has to pay her own rent and utilities with that money, and feed herself and buy basic necessities like clothing and toilet paper and laundry. She broke down into tears, “Steve, I actually begged for money from a stranger in the parking lot at the store today. I can't do that—the police will arrest me if I do that.”

I gave her a little bit of money. She won't spend it on alcohol or tobacco; I think I know her well enough for that. It's not enough even for her to get what she needs for the rest of the month. But it was something. As she left, I gave her hand a little squeeze, put my arm on my shoulder, and assured her that she would be okay.

She was one for whom Jesus says I am to be a neighbor. I hope that she left with something of a sense of God's love for her. She is struggling to find God's love in her life, so I hope that just to spend a few minutes with her was a way to let her know that she is loved.

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Here's an interesting tidbit about the horseshoe crab: I learned later on that medical equipment is tested for contamination with a product made from the blood of the horseshoe crab. There are people who catch the crabs, gently extract a little bit of their blood, and then return the crabs to the ocean. And then they make a serum that is used to detect impurities and contaminants on medical equipment.

It turns out that maybe I helped someone else when I put those two crabs back into the ocean.


It just goes to show, you never know how far down your good deed will go. So, be a good neighbor to those in need. It's probably going to do a lot more good than you think.