'grace'
Stories
Object:
Contents
A Story To Live By: 'Grace'
Sharing Visions: "I Saw The Lord," Bill Penaz
"Fishy Grace," Robin List
Good Stories: "Blotted Out"
Scrap Pile: "Old Grand Dad," Rod Perry
A Story To Live By
Grace
"For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am who I am, and his grace toward me has not been in vain." 1 Corinthians 15:1-11
There was once a teenage girl who was deeply troubled. Her mom and dad had divorced. She had become increasingly rebellious. Late one night the police arrested her for drunk driving. Mom had to go to the police station to pick her up. They didn't speak until the next afternoon. Mom broke the tension by giving her troubled daughter a small gift-wrapped box. The daughter nonchalantly opened it and found a little rock inside. She rolled her eyes and said, "Cute, Mom, what is this for?" "Read the card," Mom instructed. Her daughter took the card out of the envelope and read it. Tears started to trickle down her cheeks. She got up and lovingly hugged her mom as the card fell to the floor. On the card were these words: "This rock is more than 200,000,000 years old. That is how long it will take before I give up on you."
Sharing Visions
I Saw the Lord
Bill Penaz
"I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple." Isaiah 6: 1b
In 1965, I attended a Lenten worship service at my church. Seated about three or four rows from the front of the sanctuary, I listened to people murmuring behind me and wondered why they were talking, not praying. As my eyes looked over the chancel I found myself focusing on the cross on the altar, about fifteen feet away. The cross was about fifteen inches high and made of wood. Although I was not thinking of anything in particular, I kept my eyes focused on that cross, and suddenly it disappeared and I saw Jesus in all his glory! I saw him standing there in a white, white robe, the whitest thing I have ever seen. His beard was black and he had flowing black hair. His body was outlined in the most beautiful color of gold I have ever seen.
I was dumbstruck, but I noticed I could see only him, not the cross. I also noticed that the people in the church were still murmuring, and I thought, Why doesn't anyone kneel? They must see what is happening! Then I thought, Why doesn't my wife say or do something? I looked at her, then glanced back at the cross and Jesus was gone.
I looked at my watch, trying to figure out how much time had elapsed, and it seemed only ten seconds or so. In thinking back on it later, I did remember that I could not see the face of Jesus, but all the rest I remember so clearly.
I have only told about five people very close to me about this. They looked at me as if I was kind of strange! I don't mind. I only wish I could describe it more precisely, because it was the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen!
Bill Penaz lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin and is a longtime member of Loving Shepherd Evangelical Lutheran Church.
Fishy Grace
Robin List
"But, when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees saying, 'Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.' For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish they had taken...Then Jesus said to Simon, 'Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.'" Luke 5:1-11
While praying, I found myself on the suspension footbridge over the Pike River in the Fiordland National Park, an area where I worked as a guide one summer. As I was crossing, a huge rainbow trout leapt up from the river and fastened its jaws onto the edge of the bridge: an impossible leap for a trout, I might add. There it hung, and I knew that all I had to do was slip my finger into its gills and it was mine: the biggest trout I would ever catch. But would I have caught it?
Even in my visionary state I was anxious. I had no fishing rod, no flies and no license! How could I possibly claim this fish? It would be against the law. Then the fish smiled at me: a huge, laughing, fishy smile! I bent down quickly and scooped it up. I had known grace as a doctrine for a long time, but that day it became a living part of me.
Robin List lives on a small farm in the Wairarapa Province of New Zealand, and ministers at St. Andrew's church in the nearby village of Greytown. He has published two books of liturgical drama and another of Lenten studies, which explore lifestyle issues, using games to get into the subject matter (visit www.polygraphianz.com). He is currently writing a book connecting theology and intellectual disability. Robin is part of a set which includes Heather, their four children, one each of cat, dog, donkey, pet lamb, two each of horses and Dutch dwarf rabbits, as well as the animals who pay their way. Write to him at: West Bush Road, R.D. 8, Masterton, New Zealand. Phone:+64 6 370 8281. E-mail: donkey@wise.net.nz.
Good Stories
Blotted Out
"And I said: 'Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!' Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. The seraph touched my mouth with it and said: 'Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed
and your sin is blotted out.' " Isaiah 6:5-7
The story is told of Sister Mary Louise, who was a nun in a convent in Italy. Sister Mary Louise claimed to have frequent visions of Christ and said that the Lord spoke to her. Her claims created quite a controversy in the convent. Some of the sisters felt she was lying about these visions and that she was just trying to draw attention to herself. The Mother Superior called her in and ordered her to stop talking about visions. Sister Mary Louise refused.
So, the Bishop was brought in. He interviewed her and he also ordered her to stop talking about visions. Again, she refused. She said the Lord had given her a message to proclaim and she would proclaim it. Then the Bishop asked if she would be willing to submit to a test to see if these visions were real. Sister Mary Louise agreed. He asked if the Lord listened to her in these visions and if he would answer her questions. She indicated that he did. So, the Bishop said, "The next time the Lord appears to you ask him, "What was the secret sin the Bishop committed when he was a boy?" The Bishop knew that only he and God were aware of what he had done. He felt this was a surefire way of learning whether or not these visions were real.
A month or so later, Sister Mary Louise claimed to have had another vision. The Bishop called her in for another interview. He asked her if she had had another vision. She said, "Yes." Then he inquired, "Did you ask the Lord about my secret sin?" Again, Sister Mary Louise said, "Yes." The Bishop swallowed hard and asked, "Well, what did he say?" Sister Mary Louise looked off into a corner of the room almost as if she were seeing the vision again. Then she responded, "He said, 'I don't remember.'"
Scrap Pile
Old Granddad
Rod Perry
"For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish they had taken..." Luke 5:9
Charlie Johnson was up at 5:30, had all of his gear in the trunk of the car, and was drinking coffee when Martha came downstairs.
"Are you going fishing again?" was her good morning greeting.
"Don't know whether to go or not," grumbled Charlie, "but I guess I will. Old Granddad's a-waitin'."
Martha didn't need an explanation for that comment. A week ago Charlie had been at "the hole" (that's how he referred to that spot on the river where he'd fished for nearly 50 years) and had had a very unpleasant encounter with "a bunch of young punks" as he called them. He had been in search, as always, of "Old Granddad." That's how all the area anglers referred to the biggest, meanest, most elusive old catfish on the river. People had been seeing that lunker for 15 years, but nobody had been able to set a hook in him ... yet. Charlie was sure it was just a matter of time and few, if any, spent more time trying. Well, that day a week ago, when Charlie got to the hole, he had company waiting. Four "young punks" were already there, and just a few yards from Charlie's spot. He tried to fish, but he couldn't get much done that day because of the noise.
"Why, those kids didn't sit still for five minutes," he later told Martha. "They were whoopin' and hollerin' and carryin' on ... runnin' around. Why, they made enough noise to wake the dead. There's no WAY there'd be any fish around!"
Certainly not Old Granddad.
"I'm tellin' you, Martha, these young people today ain't worth their salt, the whole lot of 'em. They don't have any values, and they don't show no respect for nobody. The whole generation ain't worth a plug nickel. The world's in a sad state of affairs if THEY are our future!"
Well, that was how Charlie felt, and it had taken more than a week to get him back in the mood to wet a line again. Martha was glad he was going, but she hoped there wouldn't be any more unpleasantness. He'd probably be back by noon. Maybe she'd fix something special for lunch, just in case. Pork chops with gravy and mashed potatoes were Charlie's favorite. Maybe some fresh baked cherry pie for dessert.
Charlie arrived at "the hole" right on the dot at 6:15. And he was alone this time. By 6:30 he had a couple of nice largemouth on the stringer, but no sign yet of Old Granddad. Then some twigs snapped, and Charlie wasn't alone anymore.
A boy of about sixteen came through the bushes next to the railroad track and set up to fish about twenty yards downstream from Charlie. "Name's Joey," he called. "Catchin' any?"
"Charlie. Nothin' much," was the reluctant reply.
Nothing else was said for a long time. Joey pulled in a couple of bass of his own. Charlie hooked another and threw back two bullheads and a red horse. About 8:00, Charlie pulled his line in to bait up. For some reason, he glanced back toward the river and there was that shadow he'd seen so many times! Old Granddad was on the prowl. But Charlie's hook was in his hand, NOT in the water. He began to hurry, but that was always when Charlie became "all thumbs": couldn't find the worms, couldn't get the worm on, then couldn't pick up the pole. Finally he got it all together and cast back into "the hole."
About the time he sat back down he heard a kind of gasp and looked toward Joey, whose expression was one of complete wonder, and whose pole was bent nearly double.
Charlie looked in total disbelief as young Joey ... just a KID, mind you ... did what he hadn't been able to do for nearly fifteen years. Joey hooked, battled and beached Old Granddad! Not without some coaching and cheering from Charlie, however, who made it over to Joey's spot in about two seconds flat. He just couldn't help but get excited because he'd only ever had a hook in Old Granddad once in all that time, and the wily cat had slipped off. Other than that, Charlie didn't even know anyone who'd come close to catching Old Granddad. Now here was this punk kid holding him up by the gills. It was unbelievable.
"Quick, mister ... er ... Charlie. Could you get the camera out of my backpack?"
So, Charlie -- unwilling witness that he was -- snapped the picture of Joey and Old Granddad. Charlie put the camera back in the kid's bag and turned around to the riverbank just in time to see Old Granddad splash and swim away.
"What are you doing?" roared Charlie. "I've been trying to get him for 15 years, and you let him go?"
"Well," Joey said calmly, "that was the one they call Old Granddad, wasn't it? People been trying to catch him since I was in diapers. Maybe longer. Today he made one mistake and got hooked. Doesn't seem right to condemn him to the dinner table for one little mistake."
Charlie scraped the plate with his fork for the last little bits of pie crust and filling. "Martha," he said, "there was someone else at the fishing hole today. The Smith boy from over on Daley Lane."
"Oh, yes. Joey," said Martha. "Hope he didn't give you any trouble."
"You know, Martha, maybe ALL kids today aren't like the ones I saw last week ... I think maybe Joey and I will go out again in the morning."
Rod Perry is a member of St. Mary's Catholic Church in Richland Center, Wisconsin. He is a popular broadcaster and storyteller.
Editor's Note
Jo Perry-Sumwalt
The story above was written and told by my brother, Rod Perry, at a benefit storytelling concert John and I did for Passages, a women's shelter in Richland Center, Wisconsin. Rod is well known in the Richland Center area, for the more than 25 years he spent as a radio personality on WRCO AM and FM.
When I was growing up, it was my "big brother's" finely honed sense of the ridiculous that helped to shape mine, and his instruction in the fine arts -- the humor of Homer and Jethro, Stan Freberg, Spike Jones, Bob Newhart, Jonathan Winters and Charlie Weaver -- that prepared me for life out in the world. To this day, if one of us recites a line from a 1960's comedy routine, the other can usually fill in the next line.
Books by John & Jo Sumwalt
Sharing Visions: Divine Revelations, Angels, and Holy Coincidences
Vision Stories: True Accounts of Visions, Angels, and Healing Miracles
Life Stories: A Study in Christian Decision Making
Lectionary Stories: Forty Tellable Tales for Cycle C
Lectionary Stories: Forty Tellable Tales for Cycle A
Lectionary Stories: Forty Tellable Tales for Cycle B
Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit: 62 Stories for Cycle B
**************
StoryShare, February 8, 2004, issue.
Copyright 2004 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., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.
A Story To Live By: 'Grace'
Sharing Visions: "I Saw The Lord," Bill Penaz
"Fishy Grace," Robin List
Good Stories: "Blotted Out"
Scrap Pile: "Old Grand Dad," Rod Perry
A Story To Live By
Grace
"For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am who I am, and his grace toward me has not been in vain." 1 Corinthians 15:1-11
There was once a teenage girl who was deeply troubled. Her mom and dad had divorced. She had become increasingly rebellious. Late one night the police arrested her for drunk driving. Mom had to go to the police station to pick her up. They didn't speak until the next afternoon. Mom broke the tension by giving her troubled daughter a small gift-wrapped box. The daughter nonchalantly opened it and found a little rock inside. She rolled her eyes and said, "Cute, Mom, what is this for?" "Read the card," Mom instructed. Her daughter took the card out of the envelope and read it. Tears started to trickle down her cheeks. She got up and lovingly hugged her mom as the card fell to the floor. On the card were these words: "This rock is more than 200,000,000 years old. That is how long it will take before I give up on you."
Sharing Visions
I Saw the Lord
Bill Penaz
"I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple." Isaiah 6: 1b
In 1965, I attended a Lenten worship service at my church. Seated about three or four rows from the front of the sanctuary, I listened to people murmuring behind me and wondered why they were talking, not praying. As my eyes looked over the chancel I found myself focusing on the cross on the altar, about fifteen feet away. The cross was about fifteen inches high and made of wood. Although I was not thinking of anything in particular, I kept my eyes focused on that cross, and suddenly it disappeared and I saw Jesus in all his glory! I saw him standing there in a white, white robe, the whitest thing I have ever seen. His beard was black and he had flowing black hair. His body was outlined in the most beautiful color of gold I have ever seen.
I was dumbstruck, but I noticed I could see only him, not the cross. I also noticed that the people in the church were still murmuring, and I thought, Why doesn't anyone kneel? They must see what is happening! Then I thought, Why doesn't my wife say or do something? I looked at her, then glanced back at the cross and Jesus was gone.
I looked at my watch, trying to figure out how much time had elapsed, and it seemed only ten seconds or so. In thinking back on it later, I did remember that I could not see the face of Jesus, but all the rest I remember so clearly.
I have only told about five people very close to me about this. They looked at me as if I was kind of strange! I don't mind. I only wish I could describe it more precisely, because it was the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen!
Bill Penaz lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin and is a longtime member of Loving Shepherd Evangelical Lutheran Church.
Fishy Grace
Robin List
"But, when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees saying, 'Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.' For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish they had taken...Then Jesus said to Simon, 'Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.'" Luke 5:1-11
While praying, I found myself on the suspension footbridge over the Pike River in the Fiordland National Park, an area where I worked as a guide one summer. As I was crossing, a huge rainbow trout leapt up from the river and fastened its jaws onto the edge of the bridge: an impossible leap for a trout, I might add. There it hung, and I knew that all I had to do was slip my finger into its gills and it was mine: the biggest trout I would ever catch. But would I have caught it?
Even in my visionary state I was anxious. I had no fishing rod, no flies and no license! How could I possibly claim this fish? It would be against the law. Then the fish smiled at me: a huge, laughing, fishy smile! I bent down quickly and scooped it up. I had known grace as a doctrine for a long time, but that day it became a living part of me.
Robin List lives on a small farm in the Wairarapa Province of New Zealand, and ministers at St. Andrew's church in the nearby village of Greytown. He has published two books of liturgical drama and another of Lenten studies, which explore lifestyle issues, using games to get into the subject matter (visit www.polygraphianz.com). He is currently writing a book connecting theology and intellectual disability. Robin is part of a set which includes Heather, their four children, one each of cat, dog, donkey, pet lamb, two each of horses and Dutch dwarf rabbits, as well as the animals who pay their way. Write to him at: West Bush Road, R.D. 8, Masterton, New Zealand. Phone:+64 6 370 8281. E-mail: donkey@wise.net.nz.
Good Stories
Blotted Out
"And I said: 'Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!' Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. The seraph touched my mouth with it and said: 'Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed
and your sin is blotted out.' " Isaiah 6:5-7
The story is told of Sister Mary Louise, who was a nun in a convent in Italy. Sister Mary Louise claimed to have frequent visions of Christ and said that the Lord spoke to her. Her claims created quite a controversy in the convent. Some of the sisters felt she was lying about these visions and that she was just trying to draw attention to herself. The Mother Superior called her in and ordered her to stop talking about visions. Sister Mary Louise refused.
So, the Bishop was brought in. He interviewed her and he also ordered her to stop talking about visions. Again, she refused. She said the Lord had given her a message to proclaim and she would proclaim it. Then the Bishop asked if she would be willing to submit to a test to see if these visions were real. Sister Mary Louise agreed. He asked if the Lord listened to her in these visions and if he would answer her questions. She indicated that he did. So, the Bishop said, "The next time the Lord appears to you ask him, "What was the secret sin the Bishop committed when he was a boy?" The Bishop knew that only he and God were aware of what he had done. He felt this was a surefire way of learning whether or not these visions were real.
A month or so later, Sister Mary Louise claimed to have had another vision. The Bishop called her in for another interview. He asked her if she had had another vision. She said, "Yes." Then he inquired, "Did you ask the Lord about my secret sin?" Again, Sister Mary Louise said, "Yes." The Bishop swallowed hard and asked, "Well, what did he say?" Sister Mary Louise looked off into a corner of the room almost as if she were seeing the vision again. Then she responded, "He said, 'I don't remember.'"
Scrap Pile
Old Granddad
Rod Perry
"For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish they had taken..." Luke 5:9
Charlie Johnson was up at 5:30, had all of his gear in the trunk of the car, and was drinking coffee when Martha came downstairs.
"Are you going fishing again?" was her good morning greeting.
"Don't know whether to go or not," grumbled Charlie, "but I guess I will. Old Granddad's a-waitin'."
Martha didn't need an explanation for that comment. A week ago Charlie had been at "the hole" (that's how he referred to that spot on the river where he'd fished for nearly 50 years) and had had a very unpleasant encounter with "a bunch of young punks" as he called them. He had been in search, as always, of "Old Granddad." That's how all the area anglers referred to the biggest, meanest, most elusive old catfish on the river. People had been seeing that lunker for 15 years, but nobody had been able to set a hook in him ... yet. Charlie was sure it was just a matter of time and few, if any, spent more time trying. Well, that day a week ago, when Charlie got to the hole, he had company waiting. Four "young punks" were already there, and just a few yards from Charlie's spot. He tried to fish, but he couldn't get much done that day because of the noise.
"Why, those kids didn't sit still for five minutes," he later told Martha. "They were whoopin' and hollerin' and carryin' on ... runnin' around. Why, they made enough noise to wake the dead. There's no WAY there'd be any fish around!"
Certainly not Old Granddad.
"I'm tellin' you, Martha, these young people today ain't worth their salt, the whole lot of 'em. They don't have any values, and they don't show no respect for nobody. The whole generation ain't worth a plug nickel. The world's in a sad state of affairs if THEY are our future!"
Well, that was how Charlie felt, and it had taken more than a week to get him back in the mood to wet a line again. Martha was glad he was going, but she hoped there wouldn't be any more unpleasantness. He'd probably be back by noon. Maybe she'd fix something special for lunch, just in case. Pork chops with gravy and mashed potatoes were Charlie's favorite. Maybe some fresh baked cherry pie for dessert.
Charlie arrived at "the hole" right on the dot at 6:15. And he was alone this time. By 6:30 he had a couple of nice largemouth on the stringer, but no sign yet of Old Granddad. Then some twigs snapped, and Charlie wasn't alone anymore.
A boy of about sixteen came through the bushes next to the railroad track and set up to fish about twenty yards downstream from Charlie. "Name's Joey," he called. "Catchin' any?"
"Charlie. Nothin' much," was the reluctant reply.
Nothing else was said for a long time. Joey pulled in a couple of bass of his own. Charlie hooked another and threw back two bullheads and a red horse. About 8:00, Charlie pulled his line in to bait up. For some reason, he glanced back toward the river and there was that shadow he'd seen so many times! Old Granddad was on the prowl. But Charlie's hook was in his hand, NOT in the water. He began to hurry, but that was always when Charlie became "all thumbs": couldn't find the worms, couldn't get the worm on, then couldn't pick up the pole. Finally he got it all together and cast back into "the hole."
About the time he sat back down he heard a kind of gasp and looked toward Joey, whose expression was one of complete wonder, and whose pole was bent nearly double.
Charlie looked in total disbelief as young Joey ... just a KID, mind you ... did what he hadn't been able to do for nearly fifteen years. Joey hooked, battled and beached Old Granddad! Not without some coaching and cheering from Charlie, however, who made it over to Joey's spot in about two seconds flat. He just couldn't help but get excited because he'd only ever had a hook in Old Granddad once in all that time, and the wily cat had slipped off. Other than that, Charlie didn't even know anyone who'd come close to catching Old Granddad. Now here was this punk kid holding him up by the gills. It was unbelievable.
"Quick, mister ... er ... Charlie. Could you get the camera out of my backpack?"
So, Charlie -- unwilling witness that he was -- snapped the picture of Joey and Old Granddad. Charlie put the camera back in the kid's bag and turned around to the riverbank just in time to see Old Granddad splash and swim away.
"What are you doing?" roared Charlie. "I've been trying to get him for 15 years, and you let him go?"
"Well," Joey said calmly, "that was the one they call Old Granddad, wasn't it? People been trying to catch him since I was in diapers. Maybe longer. Today he made one mistake and got hooked. Doesn't seem right to condemn him to the dinner table for one little mistake."
Charlie scraped the plate with his fork for the last little bits of pie crust and filling. "Martha," he said, "there was someone else at the fishing hole today. The Smith boy from over on Daley Lane."
"Oh, yes. Joey," said Martha. "Hope he didn't give you any trouble."
"You know, Martha, maybe ALL kids today aren't like the ones I saw last week ... I think maybe Joey and I will go out again in the morning."
Rod Perry is a member of St. Mary's Catholic Church in Richland Center, Wisconsin. He is a popular broadcaster and storyteller.
Editor's Note
Jo Perry-Sumwalt
The story above was written and told by my brother, Rod Perry, at a benefit storytelling concert John and I did for Passages, a women's shelter in Richland Center, Wisconsin. Rod is well known in the Richland Center area, for the more than 25 years he spent as a radio personality on WRCO AM and FM.
When I was growing up, it was my "big brother's" finely honed sense of the ridiculous that helped to shape mine, and his instruction in the fine arts -- the humor of Homer and Jethro, Stan Freberg, Spike Jones, Bob Newhart, Jonathan Winters and Charlie Weaver -- that prepared me for life out in the world. To this day, if one of us recites a line from a 1960's comedy routine, the other can usually fill in the next line.
Books by John & Jo Sumwalt
Sharing Visions: Divine Revelations, Angels, and Holy Coincidences
Vision Stories: True Accounts of Visions, Angels, and Healing Miracles
Life Stories: A Study in Christian Decision Making
Lectionary Stories: Forty Tellable Tales for Cycle C
Lectionary Stories: Forty Tellable Tales for Cycle A
Lectionary Stories: Forty Tellable Tales for Cycle B
Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit: 62 Stories for Cycle B
**************
StoryShare, February 8, 2004, issue.
Copyright 2004 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., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.
