Good Investment
Stories
Object:
Contents
"Good Investment" by C. David McKirachan
"How Much?" by C. David McKirachan
"The Tragedy of Procrastination" by Keith Wagner
"Trusting the Light" by Keith Wagner
* * * * * * *
Good Investment
by C. David McKirachan
Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15
It was 1944 just after the invasion of Normandy. U-boats were surfacing off Long Beach Island to lob shells at the trans-Atlantic antenna strung through the tidal marsh bordering Barnegat Bay. Once in a while a blimp from Lakehurst would catch on of the German terrors. Bodies washed ashore, theirs and ours, providing ugly, tangible proof that the enemy was close and ready to prove we weren't safe.
Then a hurricane went through. It was one of the monsters, erasing landmarks like they never existed. There was a hotel on 10th Street in Surf City overlooking the dunes. My parents told me boats used its towers to navigate. After the hurricane even the foundations were gone. The storm surge went over the island and right into the bay.
Mother and Daddy took this auspicious time to borrow $500 from my grandfather for a down payment on one of the few houses on 16th Street to survive the storm. My father said it took him a few days to get the front door open because the sand was three feet deep in the front yard. Wet sand is heavy and all he had was a shovel.
They were courageous people. Some called them crazy. But they had this incredible sense that the Lord would provide. Their faith wasn't only a warm fuzzy feeling, it was a lifestyle. They stood in a place from which they could see beyond all the signs of disaster and doom. They had better things to do than to shake their heads and worry. They really believed God had chosen them and given them gifts of the spirit, and opportunities to utilize those gifts. I never knew them to be at a loss. It made them powerful. And it proclaimed to those around them what they could be doing in good days and in evil ones. That's what faith does.
I don't think they put the deed in a clay pot. Clay pots don't do well in hurricanes. But they had an awful lot in common with Jeremiah. He was nuts too.
How Much?
by C. David McKirachan
1 Timothy 6:6-19
A lot of the people who have visited churches I've pastored come with complaints about some painful experience when they were beneath another steeple. By far the most common runs something like: "The minister always talked about money." I listen to these tales of woe with some reservations attached. Imbedded within them are warnings that I better not be so stupid, rude, or crass as to lean on them. If I've had a rough week, my pastoral response is something like, "Yeah, money's got us all by the throat. It's fertile ground for preaching. That's why the Bible is so full of it."
Money's rough. We who work in this institution are caught in so many conflicts of interest that it's hard to give clear guidance to our conflicted flocks without guilt, anger, or defensiveness. We end up trying to justify our jobs and the importance of this entity we give our lives and sometimes our sanity and our health too while we know how ridiculous it can be and how vulnerable we are because after all, we're just preachers. Besides, we're trying to save enough to be something other than homeless when we retire. Are we being honest? Or are we too focused on the unholy dollar? It's hard to claim a strong position when we feel like hypocrites.
Once I got a letter from a long-time member. It was a long letter, detailing their displeasure with my preaching of late. It happened to be stewardship season, banners, testimonials, litanies of dedication, and all that. And a lot of open ended questions in the sermons, uncomfortable questions, like "Who do you love?" "What do we really need?" "How does it feel to be a servant?" They felt I had put them on the spot. Lots of pain.
The central question of their epistle was, "Do you want us to sell our house and live in a cardboard box under a bridge?" That stopped me. It made me realize that they didn't need instructing. They were wounded by this ravening beast of money. It didn't matter that many of the wounds were self-inflicted or that it was their fear and anxiety that kept the wounds fresh. It didn't matter that Christ was calling them to a deeper faith and that the cross was there to remind them of their discipleship, not to adorn their jewelry. They had been attacked by something more insidious and pervasive than my preaching, each day, every day. They were pooped and scared.
We talked for over an hour. We ate homemade coffee cake and drank too much coffee. We ended up laughing and crying and deciding we all had a lot to learn about the grace of God. And we realized that on our journey together it was probably a good idea to hold hands. A couple days later their pledge card came in with a significant raise.
I don't think a balanced budget makes the Lord happy. I think a community that cares more about each other and the world than it worries about how much or how little money it has is Christ's barometer. Maybe we should go live under a bridge. I don't know. But I do know I belong to him. He's stuck with me, under a bridge or not.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. McKirachan is the author of I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder (Westminster John Knox).
The Tragedy of Procrastination
by Keith Wagner
Luke 16:19-31
Did you know that the color purple is the color of choice for fashion lovers? In the Life section of the Dayton Daily News (September 22, 2007), there was an article titled "Purple Reigns." Fashion experts have determined that the color purple is the "in" color for this fall. Amelia Robinson said, "It's a decadent color, vibrant and regal. The same shade of purple can make you think of the royals or a vineyard teeming with succulent grapes."
In Jesus' day when a rich man wore purple it meant he was a high-ranking official or member of a royal family. He lived in a house with gates for privacy and security. His house was completely separate from the riffraff of society. He had everything a man could want.
In the gospel story the rich man died and found himself on the opposite side of the "in" group. The man ended up in Hades, where he was tormented. He found himself on the wrong side of a great chasm with no way of getting to the other side. On the other side of the chasm were Abraham and a man named Lazarus. Since the rich man was thirsty, he begged Abraham to have Lazarus bring him a cool drink.
But Abraham said, "No." It was too late. Not even the folks on "What not to wear," or "Project Runway" could rescue the man dressed in purple. The distance between them was too far. It was impossible to extend to him any help. The rich man was desperate. If he couldn't be helped, perhaps his five brothers could be helped. Once again he begged Abraham to warn them so that they wouldn't end up on the wrong side of the great divide too. But Abraham said that was beyond his control. If they wanted to avoid the same fate they needed to "listen to Moses and the prophets."
In other words, his brothers had what they needed to live in the kingdom of God; the choice of being generous toward their neighbors. Jesus was obviously encouraging the disciples to be good neighbors. He wanted them to attend to the Lazarus' in their world.
The problem with the rich man was that he never saw Lazarus. His self-centeredness blinded his vision. Ironically Lazarus is named in the story but the rich man has no name. The rich man could have taken the time to get to know Lazarus personally. But he made no attempt to connect to Lazarus. He didn't inquire about his needs. He didn't intervene on his behalf. He didn't even bother to have a conversation with him. He never troubled himself to look into the eyes of Lazarus and acknowledge his existence.
Had the rich man perceived Lazarus as a human being who was just as deserving of God's love as anyone else, he would have connected with him on earth. But since the rich man was indifferent to the presence of Lazarus, it was now impossible for him to connect to him in the next life.
The rich man saw Lazarus as a servant, someone who should do things for him. We forget that our lives are intertwined with people around the world. When we put on our clothes do we realize how many of them have been made by people in sweat shops in India or Thailand? When we eat vegetables, like strawberries and tomatoes, do we realize that some Hispanic immigrant picked them?
When I was in the Navy I had the privilege of being an officer. Many of the stewards aboard ship were from the Philippines. One of my men, named Eduardo, was from the mountain region east of Manila. While we were in port in Subic Bay, he hiked over fifty miles inland to see his family. When he returned he had a beautifully carved wooden cake pan and he gave it to me as a gift. It was made by someone in his family. That experience helped me to appreciate that people of other nationalities have families and they also have a love ethic.
We officers weren't supposed to fraternize with enlisted men. But Eduardo and I formed a relationship that made my life in the Gulf of Tonkin during the Vietnam War far more bearable. Jesus wants his disciples to do more than just see those who have need. He wants us to see them as persons who are also children of God.
I believe that most of us are willing to help our neighbors and consequently we give to charitable organizations. But how often do we really get to know people in a personal way? To develop a relationship with someone we do not know can be a life-changing experience.
Jesus was telling his disciples, both then and now, that we have everything we need that is necessary for salvation. We have the word of God through Moses and the prophets and we have Jesus, who modeled a life of compassion and mercy. We know we are to "love our neighbors as ourselves," but we still hold back. It was too late for the rich man to connect to Lazarus but it is not too late for us. We are still in the world. We can still reach out to the Lazaruses of our time and love them unconditionally.
Trusting the Light
by Keith Wagner
Psalm 91:1-6, 14-16
Just as Jesus was teaching his disciples to model their lives after the words of Moses and the prophets with unconditional love, the Psalmist was encouraging his listeners to live in the "shadow of the Almighty."
One's life journey is not exempt from peril and evil. There will be times of danger, illness, extreme weather, and bad people. In our complex world to survive the times we build bomb shelters, purchase weapons, hire financial advisors, and install security systems. None of these can ultimately protect us from our world of inflexible natural laws. There are just too many things beyond our control. The only way to survive is to trust that God will be with us.
In an episode of the television show Becker, Bob was told to go into the basement at the apartment complex and fix the furnace. But he procrastinated. Dr. Becker asked him if he was afraid of the dark. Bob replied, "It's not the darkness that scares me, it's the evil within it that I'm afraid of."
Isn't that true with all of us? Are we not afraid of the evil that lurks in the darkness? Don't we all fear the unexpected, the possibility of failure, the loss of our health, the potential of getting hurt, or the chaos of change?
Bob chose to avoid the darkness altogether. Rather than take any action he simply stayed away. The end result was that the furnace never got repaired. This is how some folks cope with their darkness. They avoid it and do nothing; consequently' they do not trust or believe that God is there to help.
In his book Love Is Letting Go of Fear, Gerald Jampolsky tells a story about a man named Joe. It seems that Joe was overrun by a tractor, not once but twice. He suffered from bilateral spastic paralysis. He became blind, mute, and motionless. He was basically in a coma and his doctors told his parents that even a miracle wouldn't help.
His parents did not give up. They trusted in the power of God and lived one day at a time. Joe slowly began to regain his speech and eventually he walked. He even helped others who were in the process of rehabilitation. Through the faith of his parents, Joe overcame his fear of darkness. He refused to be a victim. He chose to see the world through a window of trust not fear.
I would imagine most of us are more like Bob than we are Joe. It is much easier to avoid the darkness and do nothing rather than trust that God will guide us. And even Joe needed the encouragement and faith of his parents to help him.
By remaining in the dark, we don't have to do anything. The Psalmist challenges us to trust not fear. He challenges us to seek light, life, strength, courage, and direction from God. David, the author of many of the psalms, knew the meaning of fear more than anyone. He was a fugitive always hiding from King Saul. At one point his life was threatened and was the victim of many cruel plots against his life. However, David was fearless because he learned to overcome fear through faith.
Ultimately it is a profound faith in God that will make us secure. "Those who love me, I will deliver; I will protect those who know my name," the Psalmist said. In other words, just as Jesus encouraged his disciples to build relationships with their neighbors, the Psalmist wanted his listeners to know and trust God.
Rev. Dr. Keith Wagner is the pastor of St. John's UCC in Troy, Ohio. He and his wife, Lin, live in Springfield, Ohio.
*****************************************
StoryShare, September 29, 2013, issue.
Copyright 2013 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"Good Investment" by C. David McKirachan
"How Much?" by C. David McKirachan
"The Tragedy of Procrastination" by Keith Wagner
"Trusting the Light" by Keith Wagner
* * * * * * *
Good Investment
by C. David McKirachan
Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15
It was 1944 just after the invasion of Normandy. U-boats were surfacing off Long Beach Island to lob shells at the trans-Atlantic antenna strung through the tidal marsh bordering Barnegat Bay. Once in a while a blimp from Lakehurst would catch on of the German terrors. Bodies washed ashore, theirs and ours, providing ugly, tangible proof that the enemy was close and ready to prove we weren't safe.
Then a hurricane went through. It was one of the monsters, erasing landmarks like they never existed. There was a hotel on 10th Street in Surf City overlooking the dunes. My parents told me boats used its towers to navigate. After the hurricane even the foundations were gone. The storm surge went over the island and right into the bay.
Mother and Daddy took this auspicious time to borrow $500 from my grandfather for a down payment on one of the few houses on 16th Street to survive the storm. My father said it took him a few days to get the front door open because the sand was three feet deep in the front yard. Wet sand is heavy and all he had was a shovel.
They were courageous people. Some called them crazy. But they had this incredible sense that the Lord would provide. Their faith wasn't only a warm fuzzy feeling, it was a lifestyle. They stood in a place from which they could see beyond all the signs of disaster and doom. They had better things to do than to shake their heads and worry. They really believed God had chosen them and given them gifts of the spirit, and opportunities to utilize those gifts. I never knew them to be at a loss. It made them powerful. And it proclaimed to those around them what they could be doing in good days and in evil ones. That's what faith does.
I don't think they put the deed in a clay pot. Clay pots don't do well in hurricanes. But they had an awful lot in common with Jeremiah. He was nuts too.
How Much?
by C. David McKirachan
1 Timothy 6:6-19
A lot of the people who have visited churches I've pastored come with complaints about some painful experience when they were beneath another steeple. By far the most common runs something like: "The minister always talked about money." I listen to these tales of woe with some reservations attached. Imbedded within them are warnings that I better not be so stupid, rude, or crass as to lean on them. If I've had a rough week, my pastoral response is something like, "Yeah, money's got us all by the throat. It's fertile ground for preaching. That's why the Bible is so full of it."
Money's rough. We who work in this institution are caught in so many conflicts of interest that it's hard to give clear guidance to our conflicted flocks without guilt, anger, or defensiveness. We end up trying to justify our jobs and the importance of this entity we give our lives and sometimes our sanity and our health too while we know how ridiculous it can be and how vulnerable we are because after all, we're just preachers. Besides, we're trying to save enough to be something other than homeless when we retire. Are we being honest? Or are we too focused on the unholy dollar? It's hard to claim a strong position when we feel like hypocrites.
Once I got a letter from a long-time member. It was a long letter, detailing their displeasure with my preaching of late. It happened to be stewardship season, banners, testimonials, litanies of dedication, and all that. And a lot of open ended questions in the sermons, uncomfortable questions, like "Who do you love?" "What do we really need?" "How does it feel to be a servant?" They felt I had put them on the spot. Lots of pain.
The central question of their epistle was, "Do you want us to sell our house and live in a cardboard box under a bridge?" That stopped me. It made me realize that they didn't need instructing. They were wounded by this ravening beast of money. It didn't matter that many of the wounds were self-inflicted or that it was their fear and anxiety that kept the wounds fresh. It didn't matter that Christ was calling them to a deeper faith and that the cross was there to remind them of their discipleship, not to adorn their jewelry. They had been attacked by something more insidious and pervasive than my preaching, each day, every day. They were pooped and scared.
We talked for over an hour. We ate homemade coffee cake and drank too much coffee. We ended up laughing and crying and deciding we all had a lot to learn about the grace of God. And we realized that on our journey together it was probably a good idea to hold hands. A couple days later their pledge card came in with a significant raise.
I don't think a balanced budget makes the Lord happy. I think a community that cares more about each other and the world than it worries about how much or how little money it has is Christ's barometer. Maybe we should go live under a bridge. I don't know. But I do know I belong to him. He's stuck with me, under a bridge or not.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. McKirachan is the author of I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder (Westminster John Knox).
The Tragedy of Procrastination
by Keith Wagner
Luke 16:19-31
Did you know that the color purple is the color of choice for fashion lovers? In the Life section of the Dayton Daily News (September 22, 2007), there was an article titled "Purple Reigns." Fashion experts have determined that the color purple is the "in" color for this fall. Amelia Robinson said, "It's a decadent color, vibrant and regal. The same shade of purple can make you think of the royals or a vineyard teeming with succulent grapes."
In Jesus' day when a rich man wore purple it meant he was a high-ranking official or member of a royal family. He lived in a house with gates for privacy and security. His house was completely separate from the riffraff of society. He had everything a man could want.
In the gospel story the rich man died and found himself on the opposite side of the "in" group. The man ended up in Hades, where he was tormented. He found himself on the wrong side of a great chasm with no way of getting to the other side. On the other side of the chasm were Abraham and a man named Lazarus. Since the rich man was thirsty, he begged Abraham to have Lazarus bring him a cool drink.
But Abraham said, "No." It was too late. Not even the folks on "What not to wear," or "Project Runway" could rescue the man dressed in purple. The distance between them was too far. It was impossible to extend to him any help. The rich man was desperate. If he couldn't be helped, perhaps his five brothers could be helped. Once again he begged Abraham to warn them so that they wouldn't end up on the wrong side of the great divide too. But Abraham said that was beyond his control. If they wanted to avoid the same fate they needed to "listen to Moses and the prophets."
In other words, his brothers had what they needed to live in the kingdom of God; the choice of being generous toward their neighbors. Jesus was obviously encouraging the disciples to be good neighbors. He wanted them to attend to the Lazarus' in their world.
The problem with the rich man was that he never saw Lazarus. His self-centeredness blinded his vision. Ironically Lazarus is named in the story but the rich man has no name. The rich man could have taken the time to get to know Lazarus personally. But he made no attempt to connect to Lazarus. He didn't inquire about his needs. He didn't intervene on his behalf. He didn't even bother to have a conversation with him. He never troubled himself to look into the eyes of Lazarus and acknowledge his existence.
Had the rich man perceived Lazarus as a human being who was just as deserving of God's love as anyone else, he would have connected with him on earth. But since the rich man was indifferent to the presence of Lazarus, it was now impossible for him to connect to him in the next life.
The rich man saw Lazarus as a servant, someone who should do things for him. We forget that our lives are intertwined with people around the world. When we put on our clothes do we realize how many of them have been made by people in sweat shops in India or Thailand? When we eat vegetables, like strawberries and tomatoes, do we realize that some Hispanic immigrant picked them?
When I was in the Navy I had the privilege of being an officer. Many of the stewards aboard ship were from the Philippines. One of my men, named Eduardo, was from the mountain region east of Manila. While we were in port in Subic Bay, he hiked over fifty miles inland to see his family. When he returned he had a beautifully carved wooden cake pan and he gave it to me as a gift. It was made by someone in his family. That experience helped me to appreciate that people of other nationalities have families and they also have a love ethic.
We officers weren't supposed to fraternize with enlisted men. But Eduardo and I formed a relationship that made my life in the Gulf of Tonkin during the Vietnam War far more bearable. Jesus wants his disciples to do more than just see those who have need. He wants us to see them as persons who are also children of God.
I believe that most of us are willing to help our neighbors and consequently we give to charitable organizations. But how often do we really get to know people in a personal way? To develop a relationship with someone we do not know can be a life-changing experience.
Jesus was telling his disciples, both then and now, that we have everything we need that is necessary for salvation. We have the word of God through Moses and the prophets and we have Jesus, who modeled a life of compassion and mercy. We know we are to "love our neighbors as ourselves," but we still hold back. It was too late for the rich man to connect to Lazarus but it is not too late for us. We are still in the world. We can still reach out to the Lazaruses of our time and love them unconditionally.
Trusting the Light
by Keith Wagner
Psalm 91:1-6, 14-16
Just as Jesus was teaching his disciples to model their lives after the words of Moses and the prophets with unconditional love, the Psalmist was encouraging his listeners to live in the "shadow of the Almighty."
One's life journey is not exempt from peril and evil. There will be times of danger, illness, extreme weather, and bad people. In our complex world to survive the times we build bomb shelters, purchase weapons, hire financial advisors, and install security systems. None of these can ultimately protect us from our world of inflexible natural laws. There are just too many things beyond our control. The only way to survive is to trust that God will be with us.
In an episode of the television show Becker, Bob was told to go into the basement at the apartment complex and fix the furnace. But he procrastinated. Dr. Becker asked him if he was afraid of the dark. Bob replied, "It's not the darkness that scares me, it's the evil within it that I'm afraid of."
Isn't that true with all of us? Are we not afraid of the evil that lurks in the darkness? Don't we all fear the unexpected, the possibility of failure, the loss of our health, the potential of getting hurt, or the chaos of change?
Bob chose to avoid the darkness altogether. Rather than take any action he simply stayed away. The end result was that the furnace never got repaired. This is how some folks cope with their darkness. They avoid it and do nothing; consequently' they do not trust or believe that God is there to help.
In his book Love Is Letting Go of Fear, Gerald Jampolsky tells a story about a man named Joe. It seems that Joe was overrun by a tractor, not once but twice. He suffered from bilateral spastic paralysis. He became blind, mute, and motionless. He was basically in a coma and his doctors told his parents that even a miracle wouldn't help.
His parents did not give up. They trusted in the power of God and lived one day at a time. Joe slowly began to regain his speech and eventually he walked. He even helped others who were in the process of rehabilitation. Through the faith of his parents, Joe overcame his fear of darkness. He refused to be a victim. He chose to see the world through a window of trust not fear.
I would imagine most of us are more like Bob than we are Joe. It is much easier to avoid the darkness and do nothing rather than trust that God will guide us. And even Joe needed the encouragement and faith of his parents to help him.
By remaining in the dark, we don't have to do anything. The Psalmist challenges us to trust not fear. He challenges us to seek light, life, strength, courage, and direction from God. David, the author of many of the psalms, knew the meaning of fear more than anyone. He was a fugitive always hiding from King Saul. At one point his life was threatened and was the victim of many cruel plots against his life. However, David was fearless because he learned to overcome fear through faith.
Ultimately it is a profound faith in God that will make us secure. "Those who love me, I will deliver; I will protect those who know my name," the Psalmist said. In other words, just as Jesus encouraged his disciples to build relationships with their neighbors, the Psalmist wanted his listeners to know and trust God.
Rev. Dr. Keith Wagner is the pastor of St. John's UCC in Troy, Ohio. He and his wife, Lin, live in Springfield, Ohio.
*****************************************
StoryShare, September 29, 2013, issue.
Copyright 2013 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
