I Am Blessed

As I write this post, I have just finished my lunch from Taco Bell. It was the exact same thing that I have eaten for lunch the last three days, and the same thing I've had almost every weekday over the last 14 months (a chicken soft taco, chunky-style, Fresco-style, with added black beans and a steak soft taco, Fresco-style, both with Mild, Hot, and Diablo sauces... for those who are interested).

I'm feeling blessed... and not just because I love Taco Bell. No, I have been feeling blessed all week long.

When I taught on Jesus' Beatitudes a couple weeks ago, I said that the Greek word makarios (μᾰκάριος) in Matthew 5:3-11 that is often translated "blessed" is a word that's unlike any word in our English language. The meaning is hard to pin down, and so its translation is all over the place, including "happy" (Good News Bible) and "very fortunate" (The Living Bible).

Happy... fortunate... blessed... 

Yep... guilty as charged.

The reality is that all of us are blessed. Even in the most difficult times of our life, we are an incredibly blessed people.

Charles Spurgeon said: "In prosperity, God is heard, and that is a blessing; but in adversity, God is seen, and that is a greater blessing."

This past Sunday afternoon, my wife and I had the privilege of both "hearing" and "seeing" God's blessings through our church family. Reidsville Christian Church had a reception honoring my 30 years as minister (the first five years were as the youth minister, then the preaching minister for the last twenty-five).

It was an incredible afternoon!

To start with, there were numerous varieties of kringle (for those who failed to click the link in my 11/25/18 post, here's another chance), delivered fresh from Racine Danish Kringles in Wisconsin. Both the cinnamon roll and cream cheese flavors are enough to make anyone feel blessed!

In addition, I spent over an hour Sunday night reading the more than seventy cards and the gracious comments written in them. As if the words weren't a blessing enough, many of them also contained gifts. (I now have enough Taco Bell gift cards to last me for the next three months!)

I am blessed.

But the greatest blessing of the day was the opportunity to reminisce with so many who I have the privilege of doing "church" with... some who have been with me for the entire thirty years, some who have just joined the journey, and many in-between. Through both laughter and tears, we shared together how God has blessed all of us in so many ways.

Having been here for so long, I've had numerous opportunities to see God at work in the lives of people who I dearly love, both in their good times and bad. I have also had the privilege to come alongside them and celebrate or mourn with them.

You know, I never wanted to be a preacher; I've said that a number of times through the years. And I certainly never intended to stay at one church for my entire preaching ministry (At the risk of sounding like I might be leaving, I need to insert "thus far" here or it will sound like I am retiring. Please know that I have no desire to do either!)

Through the years, there have other ministry opportunities, but there was never really a peace about any of them. To be honest, as my wife and I were talking earlier this week, the "extras" that each new ministry offered were always things that we wanted to experience with our church family in Reidsville, rather than leave and experience them ourselves in some other place with another group of people.

I recently read that the average tenure of a pastor is now 6 years; 85% of seminary graduates entering the ministry leave within five years; 90% of all pastors don't last to retirement. 

I am confident that those statistics cover much better preachers and leaders than me, who simply did not have the opportunity that I have had to stay in a single church for three decades. The reasons for that could be numerous: Their church polity may not have allowed for it... or the people... or the minister him/herself.

But I tend to think the reason why so few ministers have stayed at a single church for the entirety is simply because they never had the opportunity to serve with a church family like the Reidsville Christian Church family.

I have no idea why God allowed me to be a part of RCC. Again, it was certainly not because I am the most skilled or gifted speaker or pastor...  or that I have done anything to deserve my congregation's encouragement, patience, love and generosity.

But He did. He has. And, hopefully, He will continue to do so.

I am blessed.

By the way, everyone who has said, "I hope you stay another thirty years," I really appreciate the sentiment... and I do hope that I have many more years with you... but we both know you don't mean really mean it... and that's okay.

No amount of Taco Bell could keep me going that long!

Take the Challenge!

Even if you've never watched what some are calling Netflix' "first cult classic" (a record 45,037,125 accounts tuned to it during its first week last November), I'm still guessing that since you're reading this, you probably have a computer, and so it's possible that you've at least heard about the movie Bird Box and the "Bird Box Challenge." In the challenge, people pay homage to the flm by blindfolding and then filming themselves doing everyday, mundane tasks, such as petting their dogs, playing basketball, and putting on lipstick. But some of the activities that are filmed should never ever be done with eyes closed, like giving a tattoo or driving a car.

The phenomenon got so out of hand that earlier this year, Netflix released a Twitter statement saying:

"Can't believe I have to say this, but: PLEASE DO NOT HURT YOURSELVES WITH THIS BIRD BOX CHALLENGE. We don't know how this started, and we appreciate the love, but Boy and Girl have just one wish for 2019 and it is that you not end up in the hospital due to memes."

(It's okay if, at this point, you need to stop and Google "Boy and Girl" and/or "memes.")

Now, I understand the challenge; I just don't get it. I mean, if you want to experience life without light, you really don't need a blindfold. You can have the exact same experience in the middle of an Indiana cornfield.

It was Mark Twain who supposedly said, "The coldest winter I ever saw was the summer I spent in San Francisco."

Well, I've never been to San Francisco (but I kinda like The Beatles.)

Wait a minute. Wrong song.

How 'bout this?

"The darkest night I ever spent was in the middle of a cornfield in Indiana." (That doesn't quite have the same ring to it, but it's true.)

First off, I'm a city boy. My wife tells me this all the time. While I thought I grew up in the country, apparently having driven on a dirt road at some point in my life and having viewed (not milked) a few nearby cows does not mean that I lived in the country.

That said, most of my life has been lived "in the light." Whether it was the security light on the Duke Power pole outside my childhood home or the streetlights outside my current home, I have never really had to fumble around in the dark, no matter what time of night it was.

Except for that one night in Indiana in the middle of a cornfield.

Okay, it wasn't really in a cornfield; there were just cornfields as far as the eye could see. I had driven my parents up to northern Indiana for my sister's and her husband's graduations from Purdue University and we ended up staying a couple nights in their home.

Remember that line from The Fugitive where Tommy Lee Jones asked for a search of "every gas station, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse, and doghouse" in the area?

Well, with apologies to Deputy Marshall Gerard, that night in Indiana there was no sunlight, moonlight, starlight, streetlight, flashlight, candlelight, or even lightin' bug light.

It was dark.

And so, when I got up in the middle of the night, it was a completely new experience. I literally could not see my hand in front of my face, much less the furniture in front of my shins!

While I've always just sort of taken it for granted, looking back, I can't imagine a world without light. I don't want to even think about a world without light.

And yet, we live in a world where, albeit the minority, there are voices at two extremes:

1) Those who want a world without the light of Jesus.
2) Those who are convinced that the light of Jesus has been extinguished from the world.

First, there are those who actually dream about a world without Jesus. I mean, isn't that what John Lennon sang? "Imagine there's no religion..." (Okay, maybe I don't kinda like the Beatles.)

How dark would that kind of world be?

In his book, How Christianity Changed the World, Alvin Schmidt lists fifteen changes that the light of Jesus brought to our world, including the sanctity of human life, sexual morality, the freedom and dignity of women, hospitals and healthcare, and liberty and justice for all.

I mean, a world without just those five would be so much darker than that Indiana cornfield!

But then there are also many (Christian?) naysayers who lament the fact that the darkness has overtaken us. Like Elijah falsely believing that he was the only one left on God's side (only to have God tell him, "Nope, you're one of thousands"), they take their cue from the nightly news and report that, "Evil has won. The light is gone."

Jesus says, "Not as long as you're around."

"You (the clear emphasis in the Greek) are the light of the world." (Matthew 5:14 ESV)

Visible...

Unmistakable...

Undeniable...

Light.

By the way, it's impossible for the darkness to extinguish the light. The light will always shine. It isn't even dependent on if we hide or shine the light ourselves. The light shines on... but it will be so much brighter in our world if we will just allow it to shine through us.

So, here's my challenge to each of us light bearers (and it has nothing to do with a blindfold):

Don't hide the light; instead, show it. Even when it's uncomfortable, shine the light.

And, if you ever find yourself in an Indiana cornfield in the middle of the night, take a flashlight. You're gonna need it.

You might even run into Boy and Girl!