Dave's Deep Thoughts - A Pool of Tears

Here's Pastor Dave McDowell's weekly devotional that he sends out to members of his church. Dave is my brother and serves as the Music Minister at Stewartstown UMC in PA.

Saying goodbye is never easy,

but I am betting it is tougher on the one who stays behind.

My mom, while she was living as a widow,

once asked me how my father could be so happy in heaven,

while she was grieving him so severely here on earth.

It was a reasonable question.

They had a marriage of 39 years and they would have told you

that they were even happier and more in love in the 39th year than the 1st year.

I told her that I believe heaven to be a place beyond time,

that those in the heavenly realm do not experience time as we know it,

When it came time for her to cross over,

which proved to be 24 years later,

her absence from my father would have been for him,

like a blink of an eye.

It was Mom that had to endure 24 years of loss.

I believe that was something that Dad did not and would not have to bear.

Such it is for the one left behind.

I believe it to be the more difficult path.

A few weeks ago,

I said goodbye to an old friend.

She has been part of my life for over twenty years.

We have spent much time together during those twenty-some years,

so many days filled with laughter and celebration.

I always wondered what my life would have been like without her,

and I can't begin to imagine it.

That's one reason saying goodbye is so hard.

The day was a warm fall day,

one of those Indian summer days when winter still felt far away.

It was sunny,

and the leaves were changing into their brilliant color schemes.

It would have been a great day for a picnic,

a far better way to spend the day, than doing what needed to be done.

She was very popular,

but oddly enough, 

not many came that day to say goodbye.

She loved to entertain

and it wasn't uncommon for many people to show up at her parties.

I never met anyone who wasn't glad that they had spent the day with her.

That's just who she was.

But today was different.

The laughter and celebration were swallowed up by the quiet.

There is something to be said for silence.

It is that womb that allows one to think,

think about different seasons,

and how quickly they seem to pass in our busy lives.

But when it is time to say goodbye,

everything seems to come to a halt.

All that is left is the preparations and the rituals and the pondering,

pondering what life would feel like with such loss.

That is until late spring.

That's right, late spring.

That's when I re-open the pool.

Oh………… you thought I was talking about a funeral.

No, I was talking about closing my pool for the winter.

Sorry for the confusion.

Now I realize that closing a pool in no way 

compares to saying goodbye to a loved one,

but there are similarities.....

When  the winter cover is placed on the pool,

how similar it is to the shroud used to drape a coffin,

symbolizing our death to sin and our covering by Christ.

It is hard to be patient in the cold of January,

 and wait for new life that will come in the warmth of spring.

It is sometimes just as hard to grasp at the gravesite,

that it is a portal and not a dead end.

When the pool cover is removed in the spring, 

the ice has melted and fresh water begins to circulate.

In our rising from the baptismal waters and our dipping the bread from the Eucharist cup,

we say "Death doesn't have the final answer! God does!"

This Sunday the earthly expression of the church remembers and celebrates the church triumphant.

We will remember all those who have passed on to the Kingdom eternal during the last year.

Those are difficult moments for those who grieve.

It's a challenge when sitting at a funeral to hear the words:

"O death, where is your victory?

O death, where is your sting?"

All one needs to do is point to the coffin and say,

There! There is the victory!

There is the sting!

for it is what we are experiencing on this side of the river.

And yet, the Scripture is proclaimed,

because it is on the other side of the river where the song of victory plays on and on,

and where there is no more death, no more sickness, no more sorrow.

No more need for shrouds.

No more need for saying goodbye until the spring.

No more tears needed to be shed.

Done.

Sting removed.

Death vanquished.

This All Saints Day,

if you are grieving the loss of a loved one,

let it hurt.

The Lord understands. 

After all, He wept in front of Lazarus' tomb

even while knowing a happy ending was coming.

He knows what it feels like to be left with a goodbye that wounds,

but He also knows the healing in offering the first eternal hello.

After all, spring always follows winter.

"But thanks be to God who gives us the victory

through our Lord, Jesus Christ."

                                                       1 Corinthians 15: 57

Pastoral Prayer (October 23) - Athens First UMC

[Our Chancel Choir offering an anthem during yesterday's 10:30 am worship service which is being held in our Fellowship Hall due to the renovation of our church facility. Even though we are worshipping in this new location, God's presence has been with us in very moving and powerful ways. We are the church wherever we worship.]

Lord Jesus, remember me, remember me when you come into your kingdom. May this be our humble song to you today and everyday. Forgive us for whenever we place more importance in having our political opinions, our theological stances, and our personal preferences heard, than we do on simply loving you and serving others.

Help us to always sing a humble song, a song that points people away from ourselves and to your saving and healing love. I guess what we’re praying for is to be more like the tax collector, the unlikely hero from our Gospel reading this morning, who simply prayed, “Have mercy on me, a sinner.”

And so, during this time of prayer, we humble ourselves before you. We offer to you all of who we are, including the dryer sheet that is unknowingly still tucked in our shirt, the hurtful comment we made that should have been kept to ourselves, the judgmental attitude toward the person we saw walking down the street, and our jealous attitudes and selfish ways.

Lord, as the song goes, “it’s hard to be humble,” but we can be humble when we realize that you have created us in your image no matter our station in life, and that you love us unconditionally. Thank you that here, in this church, we are all brothers and sisters. We are one in Jesus Christ.

Today, we especially pray for anyone who feels unworthy to be included in your church family. We pray for those who feel outside of your circle of grace. Help us to always be a church of open hearts, open minds, and open doors. Help us to love others the way that you love them.

We lift up to you those who are lonely, scared, in pain, grieving, or discouraged. May they sense your presence, your acceptance, and your healing love in this very moment. Hear the names of those who are on our hearts this morning as we silently lift them to you. (Moments of Silence)

As your humble servants, we now pray together the words you taught your disciples and now teach us to pray saying, “Our Father, who art in heaven...”

Sermon by Rev. Robert McDowell (October 23) - "A Humble Song"

     Maybe you have heard of the song, “Lord, it’s Hard to be Humble.” I thought it was written by country singer, Mac Davis back in 1980.  I was wrong. It was actually first recorded by the Pharisee in today’s Gospel reading.

     Maybe you remember how this song goes.

“Lord, it’s hard to be humble

When you’re perfect in every way

I can’t wait to look in the mirror

‘Cause I get better lookin’ each day.

     Actually, here are the original lyrics directly from Jesus’ parable:

“God, I thank you that I am not like other people,

Thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.

I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.”

     Does that song sound familiar? We sometimes sing that song when we consciously or sub-consciously compare ourselves to others.

     Like the day I was at the Bureau of Motor Vehicles to get my driver’s license renewed. It was crowded that day so I took a ticket and found a seat. They called out a number and the guy next to me goes up to the counter.

     He was a middle-aged man who seemed like someone who had a responsible job. He was wearing a polo shirt and blue jeans. Probably his day-off, I surmised.

     When he got to the counter, I was shocked to see that one of his back pockets was totally ripped away from his jeans exposing his underwear. I don’t think he had a clue that the threads of his one back pocket had worn that thin.

     The woman sitting next to me, thinking what I was thinking says into my ear, “My oh my, do you think he knows? Do you think one of us should tell him?”

     I said, “Nah. That’s just the new cool way to wear jeans for middle age men nowadays.”

       Several years ago in a community where I was serving as pastor, I became a member of a gym. I made a commitment that year to begin exercising after several years of not exercising.

     During my tour of the gym, I remember feeling a little intimidated by all of the guys pumping iron in the weight room that day. Even during this quick tour, I was feeling out of my league. I was beginning to second guess myself if I should become part of the gym scene.

     I decided to go out and buy some fancy gym shorts, some running shirts, expensive running shoes, a water bottle. It was really important for me to at least look the part, if you know what I mean.

     Since this wasn’t the largest gym, you had to wait your turn to get on one of the running treadmills. This meant that you sometimes had to wait fifteen or twenty minutes for the guy ahead of you to finish his work-out. Standing around made me feel even more self-conscious.

     But, at least I looked the part. I head the really cool Nike clothes. I think I even had sweat-bands. Does anybody even wear those things anymore? Back in the 90’s, that was part of the whole work-out look.

     So it was my first day at the gym. There I was all decked out waiting my turn to run on the treadmill for the first time.

     Oh, the other thing about this gym was that all of the walls had floor to ceiling mirrors to make the gym look bigger than it really was. The mirrors were also the gym’s way of reminding you that you were totally out of shape.

     Well, finally, the guy in front of me got off the treadmill. Now it was my turn to shine in that gym. So I start running on that treadmill.

     It wasn’t as bad as I thought. I was feeling a little winded the first couple of minutes but not too bad. I started to feel a little more confident so I made the treadmill go a little faster, and then a little more. I was now running at a pretty fast pace.

     I looked in the full-length mirror at my reflection and I thought to myself, “Robert, you are looking really good, my friend.” I was becoming more and more confident by the second.

     As I was starting to break a sweat, I decided to look back at the mirror to admire myself just one more time. That’s when I noticed a dryer sheet coming out from underneath my Nike shirt, and it floated in mid air for an incredible long time before it finally landed on the person who was running on the machine next to me.

     I quickly turned away to act like it wasn’t my dryer sheet. It was in that moment that I had been brought down a peg or two. Instead of feeling like a world class athlete, I now felt like I had been put in my place. I had been humbled.

     I am convinced that the reason dryer sheets fall from our shirts and our back jeans pocket wears way too thin, and spinach is stuck in our teeth when we meet somebody for the first time is because such humbling moments remind us that we so often take ourselves way too seriously.

     If only the Pharisee from our Gospel reading knew that as he ridiculed the guy sitting next to him in church that he had a mustard stain on his shirt, maybe he would have sung a different song that day. Maybe his song in church that day would have been a song of humility instead a song of self-sufficiency.

     The reason Jesus tells gives us this parable about the self righteous Pharisee and the humble tax collector is to remind us since we so easily forget that God’s grace is a gift and not something that we have earned. God’s grace is given to us as a gift through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

     In theological language, we call this, “Justifying Grace.” Justifying grace is the grace that is extended to us without price. Nobody is left out of the invitation. All are invited to receive God’s gift of salvation regardless of our station in life.

     The story is told of the great theologian, Karl Barth who was on a speaking tour in America. Barth was known as a great intellectual thinker of the Christian faith.

     He got into the backseat of a cab and asked the driver to take him to his hotel. The driver of the cab was a fundamentalist Christian who was very suspicious of highly educated theologians like Barth. When the taxi cab driver found out who was in his cab, he asked him in a very condescending way, “So, Dr. Barth. If you’re really a Christian like you say you are, tell me the exact day you were saved by the blood of Jesus.”

     Karl Barth, who was used to these kinds of questions, calmly responded to this taxi cab driver by saying, “On Good Friday. The same day you were.”

     What a great answer!

     Like the taxi driver, sometimes, we think we’re singing a humble song about God’s free gift of grace, when our song is really all about us. “O Lord, it’s hard to be humble.”

     Last spring, a teaching instructor doing doctoral work here at Ohio University was walking by our church building and he noticed that we had added an outdoor prayer cross. He was curious about this so he interviewed me about how our church was seeking to reach out beyond our walls to our community.

      Specifically, he wanted to know what our church was doing to reach young adults in the community since studies are showing that a high percentage of young people are staying away from the church. During the interview, I told him that the outdoor prayer cross was one of our ways that we are showing our community that we are a church that cares.

     I also told him that we want to be a church of authenticity. We want to be a church of humility where everyone feels welcome in this place.  I must have sounded like a broken record the amount of times I used the word, “authenticity” during that interview.

     I shared how the church needs to become more humble in the ways that we share the gospel. Our monthly “First Saturday community outreach” is such an important way for our church to have street cred in our community.

     The people outside the church aren’t just interested in our theological doctrines and beliefs. They want to see us actually live out our beliefs in ways that are making a positive difference in our community.

     And all of that is a good thing because it reminds those of us inside the church to be the authentic, humble, and genuine people that God has called us to be. That’s why we come here week after week to church. It’s not to show that we are religious. It’s to be gradually transformed into the likeness of Christ.

     Several months ago, I was visiting a couple in our church. They have been married for several years. She has round the clock nursing care because of health issues, but he is always there by her side.

     I was visiting with the husband one day while his wife was resting in the other room. He could hear his wife so he went to see if there was anything he could do for her. While he was there by her bedside, I witnessed one of the most authentic and loving things I have ever seen. This husband was stroking his wife’s hair and saying to her over and over, “I love you. I love you.”

     He wasn’t doing that to show me what a great husband he was. He was doing that because that’s how much he loves his wife. In that moment, I had a glimpse of his incredible humility.

     When we come to church, we don’t come to show off our faith like the Pharisee in Jesus’ parable or try to appear as someone we’re really not. We come to this place more like the sinful tax collector, who was humble enough to simply sit in a pew and with humility say, “God, be merciful to me a sinner.”

     In fact, here’s how I like to describe what it means to be a Christian. I shared this thought as a facebook post a while back:

     “Being a Christian simply means that as hungry people, we thankfully stumbled upon a bread line that led us to the bread of life.” God’s grace isn’t something we buy or earn. It’s a gift that God wants us to receive with no strings attached.

     And it’s a gift that is offered to every single person. Every single person.

     A young homeless woman stumbled upon a United Methodist Church one Sunday morning in St. Louis. Not a church-goer, this woman felt she had run out of options.

     With nothing left to lose, she decided to give God a try. She quietly crept into the back of the church and sat huddled all by herself.

     She listened to the service, not fully understanding what was happening. Panic set in as she heard the preacher talk about something called, “Holy Communion.”

     She listened to the words of liturgy that are spoken before the Sacrament is offered and the invitation for all to receive this holy meal. She decided that she was not going to share in this meal. She felt unworthy to receive the bread and the juice along with everybody else in that church.

     She liked the ideas she heard but she knew in her heart of hearts that she was an unclean person and that Communion wasn’t for people like her. As she was thinking about these things, she was startled and alarmed to see a man and a woman heading toward her with holding the bread and cup.

     She gripped her hands together and shook her head from side to side. She politely refused to receive.

     “What’s the matter?,” the woman usher asked.

     “I’ve never been here before. I don’t belong here. I don’t know what’s  happening,” the young woman stammered.

     Both the man and the woman smiled. Then the man said, “You don’t have to belong here. Holy Communion is for everyone.”

     “Not for me,” the visitor replied. “I’m not a good person. That’s not for me,” she said, nodding at the bread and cup.

     “This is especially for you,” the woman said. “No one here deserves it. It’s a gift to us from God. You don’t have to get ready for Communion. Communion makes you ready to receive God’s love.”

     This young woman sat there with tears in her eyes, speechless. Still clutching her hands together in front of her, she clenched her eyes shut and opened her lips.

     The woman dipped a piece of bread in the cup and placed it in the young woman’s mouth. As the sweetness of the juice and the rich flavor of the bread mingled on her tongue, the young woman broke down, sobbing, “thank you, thank you” over and over.

     This is what it means to be humbled in a good way. It’s not that we are evil or overly mean or hurtful. We are human beings who sometimes do incredible and wonderful things, but who also can be hurtful, neglectful, short-sighted, and misguided.

     We are as God made us, desperately in need of love and forgiveness and second chances. Not one of us is worthy of the grace of God, but it is denied to none of us. It is a gift that cleanses us and changes us and makes us the people God wants us to be.

     But this isn’t the end of the story. One week later, the young woman returned to that same church with five of her friends. She noticed the woman who had served her Communion the week before and she waved her over. “When’s Communion?” she asked.

     “Oh, well, we only serve communion once a month,” was her reply.

     Eyes wide, he young woman said in a shocked voice, “But we need it. I haven’t felt anything so good in years, and I want my friend to have it, too!”

     This woman was learning the tune to the same song of the tax collector from our Gospel reading this morning. It’s a humble song.

     And it goes like this…

     “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”

A Humble Song

Small Group Questions

Luke 18:9-14

October 23, 2016

Our Gospel reading this week takes place in a synagogue where a Pharisee known for his religious faithfulness, justifies himself by comparing himself with a tax collector, who would have been considered a very sinful and unscruplous person.

In what ways do we sometimes compare ourselves with others in terms of morals, ethics, and religious faithfulness and why do we sometimes feel the need to justify ourselves to God through these comparisons?

In his sermon, Pastor Robert shared a humbling moment that happened to him recently when he noticed the genuine way that a husband was lovingly caring for his wife who needs round the clock care. That was a "thin place" moment for him because he could see God's love present in the loving actions of that husband.

Share a time when you noticed someone doing a very genuine and humble act of love on behalf of someone that reminded you of God's presence.

The closing story of the sermon was about someone visiting church for the first time who didn't feel worthy to receive Holy Communion. When someone in the church told her that God's grace is extended to everyone including her, it helped her to see just how much God loves her.

Can you think of someone along your faith journey who has helped you to receive God's love in a deeper way? 

This week, be open to opportunities inside as well as outside the church to help others know and receive God's unconditional love. Sharing God's love with others is one of the best ways to for us to live our faith in humility.