The Voice Of The Broken Branch
Stories
Contents
Sharing Visions: "The Voice of the Broken Branch" by Richard Whitaker
Good Stories: "The Hardened Heart" by John Sumwalt
John's Scrap Pile: "How Soon is 'Soon'?"
Sharing Visions
The Voice of the Broken Branch
by Richard Whitaker
"From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates."
Mark 13:28-29
In anger, bitterness, and with a stubborn tenacity to cling to what once had been in my life but was no more, at age 14 I became a church "dropout." For six years I wandered in the wilderness, with God being rejected and pushed out of my life.
Then one day, when I was a sophomore at Georgia State College in Atlanta, I was approached by one of those Bible-thumping, tract-reading Campus Crusade for Christ guys. He invited me to a weekend retreat which just happened to be at North Georgia's Camp Glisson, where I had gone on several occasions as a child. Perhaps the retreat location convinced me to go along -- I'm really not sure of my reasons for saying yes, but I agreed. Time has erased all memory of the weekend's theme, the speaker's name, or who else might have been there that I might have known. After the opening session on Friday evening, our speaker said to leave in silence and reflect for a few moments alone on the evening's message. It was a moonless and quite chilly October night, but I spotted a large tree near the baseball field that I targeted to become my quiet spot. As I hurried to the tree, which might partially insulate me from the enveloping cold, I stepped on something hard, resulting in a loud cracking noise. It startled me, and I started looking at the ground beneath my feet. I discovered I had stepped on a very long and brittle tree branch which had broken completely in two. As I stopped to pick up the two pieces, that's when it happened.
A voice clearly spoke these words to me, not once, not twice, but over and over repeatedly, as a mantra: "my body, broken for you," "my body, broken for you," "my body, broken for you." I was immobile and speechless. Now shaking from cold, I began to weep. I crumpled into a heap against that tree, my eyes transfixed upon that broken tree limb now held in my hands. In that moment God's grace was made known to me, and all I could do was weep. The tears kept flowing for what seemed a long, long time. I knew that Jesus had spoken my name, reminding me that although I had abandoned God, God had not forsaken me, and the sacrifice of Jesus had redeemed me from sin. Those childhood seeds from Sunday school had taken root. I remembered that Jesus' broken body on the cross had been given for my sins of indifference, anger, hurt, bitterness, and all the rest I had carried for six long years. I felt great remorse, yet a sense of inner healing. I also became aware that I was no longer physically cold.
The remaining part of that weekend is a completely empty picture, but a follow-up one-to-one sharing with this new Crusade brother in Christ several days later presented the challenge. He said, "So, the door has been opened by God, what will you do about it?" One month later I opened a phone book's yellow pages and discovered the first United Methodist Church that was listed was the Avondale UMC, not far from where I lived. I made my way through those physical church doors the very next Sunday, and in so doing I accepted Jesus' invitation to "come home." It was through this warm, welcoming, and forgiving congregation that God prepared me for a change in my career path which would lead me into becoming a fulltime Christian educator. The "Voice of the Broken Branch" has been my sustenance throughout my lifelong spiritual journey. Thanks be to God that "his body was broken for me."
Richard Whitaker, Diaconal Minister of Christian Education at Whitefish Bay UMC in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, wishes to acknowledge all those "seed planters" at his childhood home church, Epworth UMC in Savannah, Georgia, and all those spiritual companions at the Avondale-Pattillo UMC in Decatur, Georgia. Avondale's former pastor, Dr. Charles Hoover, is the one responsible for enabling Richard to hear God's call to the ministry of Christian Education.
Good Stories
The Hardened Heart
by John Sumwalt
...for you have hidden your face from us, and delivered us into the hand of our iniquity.
Isaiah 64:7b
O Lord, why dost thou make us err from thy ways and harden our heart, so that we fear thee not?
Isaiah 63:17
There was a time when folks said of Henry Jacob, "He is a hard man. You can see it in his face and in his eyes, especially in his eyes." They said, "He looks at you, but he doesn't see you."
It all began, this hardness in Henry's heart, just after his mother died. Henry had just turned thirty. He had never lived alone before. He had always been a quiet one, but now he became morose and antisocial. He kept to himself. He no longer returned visits with the neighbors; he stopped going to church; he hardly left the farm except when he had to go into town to get supplies. Even then he never said more than was necessary to conduct his business. People got used to it in time. They stopped asking how he was, and after a few cool greetings they stopped going by the house to see after him.
That's how it was with Henry until he met Grace Johnson. When Henry married Grace he became a different person. Folks said his countenance changed. They called him Hank now. They said you never saw Hank without a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. The love of Grace had been able to penetrate the hardness in Hank's heart, allowing the tender, soft, caring side of his nature to burst forth. He became a pillar in the church and a leader in the community, known to everyone as a thoughtful, wise, and considerate man, the very opposite of what he had been before.
Grace and Hank settled down on the farm, and in time Grace gave birth to a daughter whom they called Naomi. They showered her with love and affection all of the days of her growing, and rejoiced and gave thanks to God when the day came for her to marry and go off with her husband to raise a family of her own.
Hank and Grace blissfully grew old together. They became even more active in their church work, they traveled, they went to dances, they tended the flowers in the garden, they spoiled their grandchildren, they enjoyed the company of their friends, and they cherished each other. You hardly saw one without the other.
Then Grace died. Hank was devastated. "I might as well be dead, too," he said. "I don't think I can live without Grace." He was lost without her and inconsolable. Everyone was afraid he would become hard again. He went to the cemetery every day and talked to Grace. And then one sunny afternoon, exactly three months to the day after Grace's death, he bid her farewell, went home, and phoned their mutual friend, Ruth Joyner.
"Ruth," he said, "I'd like to take you out to supper tonight. What do you say? Shall I pick you up at six?"
Ruth didn't know what to say. Finally she blurted out, "Don't you think it's a little bit too soon, Hank?"
But Hank had made up his mind, so he went straight to the point. "Grace always said, 'Hank, if I die before you do, I want you to promise me that you won't wallow in your grief again. I want you to go out and find someone to share your life with you.' I never promised her," Hank said, "because I couldn't bring myself to consider the possibility. But now I know that she was right. I am not one to live alone. But," he went on, changing the tone of his voice, "I'm not asking you to marry me, I'm only asking you out to supper. What's wrong with two old friends having supper together?"
Ruth couldn't think of any kind way to say no, so they had supper together. When Hank took her home they sat on the front porch and talked until the last light had been turned out in all the other houses in the neighborhood. After that they were together every day and had supper together every night. For both Hank and Ruth life was sweet again, and they were eager to share their joy.
When Hank broke the news about Ruth to Naomi, she was horrified. "Daddy, it's only been three months. How could you do this to Mama? What will people think?" Hank tried to explain it to her, but she wouldn't listen to anything he said. Ruth talked to her, too. She tried everything she could think of to make friends with Naomi, but she would have nothing to do with her.
When Christmas came Naomi invited Hank to dinner, but she made it very clear that Ruth was not welcome. Hank wouldn't go without Ruth. He begged Naomi to try to accept Ruth, but she would not relent. From that point on their relationship was strained, and a hardness came over Naomi which was to last as long as she lived. Folks said you could see it in her face and in her eyes, especially in her eyes.
John's Scrap Pile
How Soon is "Soon"?
Advent is both a time of remembering and a time of preparation. We remember what God has done in the past, in Moses, in the prophets, in Jesus, and in our own lives. And we try to prepare ourselves for what God will do in the future. We never know how or when God will break into our lives. The message of the Gospel is be ready for anything at any moment.
I went down to the convenience store one day to rent some movies. When I came out with my movies I saw a man standing on the corner holding up a cross with the name "Jesus" printed on the crossbar. He was waving it at passing cars and shouting "Jesus is coming soon! Heaven or hell forever!" I looked at the movies I had just rented and paused for a moment, wondering if I would have time to watch them or if I should take them back. I decided to risk it.
Jesus is coming soon. The street-corner prophet got that right. But how soon is "soon"? This is part of the mystery of the faith we live. "Christ has died; Christ is risen; Christ will come again." It is not a question of heaven or hell forever, but of heaven or hell right now, for the kingdom of God is very near. Jesus declared it in his very first words at the beginning of his ministry: "The time is fulfilled, the kingdom of God is at hand..." (Mark 1:15a). It is what we are to pray for every day: "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done" (Matthew 6:10a). It is both here and yet to come. It is a mystery, a reality we live in, a promise fulfilled in the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus, and a promise we wait to be ultimately fulfilled in the time to come. Jesus says, "Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come" (Mark 13:33).
Sharing Visions: "The Voice of the Broken Branch" by Richard Whitaker
Good Stories: "The Hardened Heart" by John Sumwalt
John's Scrap Pile: "How Soon is 'Soon'?"
Sharing Visions
The Voice of the Broken Branch
by Richard Whitaker
"From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates."
Mark 13:28-29
In anger, bitterness, and with a stubborn tenacity to cling to what once had been in my life but was no more, at age 14 I became a church "dropout." For six years I wandered in the wilderness, with God being rejected and pushed out of my life.
Then one day, when I was a sophomore at Georgia State College in Atlanta, I was approached by one of those Bible-thumping, tract-reading Campus Crusade for Christ guys. He invited me to a weekend retreat which just happened to be at North Georgia's Camp Glisson, where I had gone on several occasions as a child. Perhaps the retreat location convinced me to go along -- I'm really not sure of my reasons for saying yes, but I agreed. Time has erased all memory of the weekend's theme, the speaker's name, or who else might have been there that I might have known. After the opening session on Friday evening, our speaker said to leave in silence and reflect for a few moments alone on the evening's message. It was a moonless and quite chilly October night, but I spotted a large tree near the baseball field that I targeted to become my quiet spot. As I hurried to the tree, which might partially insulate me from the enveloping cold, I stepped on something hard, resulting in a loud cracking noise. It startled me, and I started looking at the ground beneath my feet. I discovered I had stepped on a very long and brittle tree branch which had broken completely in two. As I stopped to pick up the two pieces, that's when it happened.
A voice clearly spoke these words to me, not once, not twice, but over and over repeatedly, as a mantra: "my body, broken for you," "my body, broken for you," "my body, broken for you." I was immobile and speechless. Now shaking from cold, I began to weep. I crumpled into a heap against that tree, my eyes transfixed upon that broken tree limb now held in my hands. In that moment God's grace was made known to me, and all I could do was weep. The tears kept flowing for what seemed a long, long time. I knew that Jesus had spoken my name, reminding me that although I had abandoned God, God had not forsaken me, and the sacrifice of Jesus had redeemed me from sin. Those childhood seeds from Sunday school had taken root. I remembered that Jesus' broken body on the cross had been given for my sins of indifference, anger, hurt, bitterness, and all the rest I had carried for six long years. I felt great remorse, yet a sense of inner healing. I also became aware that I was no longer physically cold.
The remaining part of that weekend is a completely empty picture, but a follow-up one-to-one sharing with this new Crusade brother in Christ several days later presented the challenge. He said, "So, the door has been opened by God, what will you do about it?" One month later I opened a phone book's yellow pages and discovered the first United Methodist Church that was listed was the Avondale UMC, not far from where I lived. I made my way through those physical church doors the very next Sunday, and in so doing I accepted Jesus' invitation to "come home." It was through this warm, welcoming, and forgiving congregation that God prepared me for a change in my career path which would lead me into becoming a fulltime Christian educator. The "Voice of the Broken Branch" has been my sustenance throughout my lifelong spiritual journey. Thanks be to God that "his body was broken for me."
Richard Whitaker, Diaconal Minister of Christian Education at Whitefish Bay UMC in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, wishes to acknowledge all those "seed planters" at his childhood home church, Epworth UMC in Savannah, Georgia, and all those spiritual companions at the Avondale-Pattillo UMC in Decatur, Georgia. Avondale's former pastor, Dr. Charles Hoover, is the one responsible for enabling Richard to hear God's call to the ministry of Christian Education.
Good Stories
The Hardened Heart
by John Sumwalt
...for you have hidden your face from us, and delivered us into the hand of our iniquity.
Isaiah 64:7b
O Lord, why dost thou make us err from thy ways and harden our heart, so that we fear thee not?
Isaiah 63:17
There was a time when folks said of Henry Jacob, "He is a hard man. You can see it in his face and in his eyes, especially in his eyes." They said, "He looks at you, but he doesn't see you."
It all began, this hardness in Henry's heart, just after his mother died. Henry had just turned thirty. He had never lived alone before. He had always been a quiet one, but now he became morose and antisocial. He kept to himself. He no longer returned visits with the neighbors; he stopped going to church; he hardly left the farm except when he had to go into town to get supplies. Even then he never said more than was necessary to conduct his business. People got used to it in time. They stopped asking how he was, and after a few cool greetings they stopped going by the house to see after him.
That's how it was with Henry until he met Grace Johnson. When Henry married Grace he became a different person. Folks said his countenance changed. They called him Hank now. They said you never saw Hank without a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. The love of Grace had been able to penetrate the hardness in Hank's heart, allowing the tender, soft, caring side of his nature to burst forth. He became a pillar in the church and a leader in the community, known to everyone as a thoughtful, wise, and considerate man, the very opposite of what he had been before.
Grace and Hank settled down on the farm, and in time Grace gave birth to a daughter whom they called Naomi. They showered her with love and affection all of the days of her growing, and rejoiced and gave thanks to God when the day came for her to marry and go off with her husband to raise a family of her own.
Hank and Grace blissfully grew old together. They became even more active in their church work, they traveled, they went to dances, they tended the flowers in the garden, they spoiled their grandchildren, they enjoyed the company of their friends, and they cherished each other. You hardly saw one without the other.
Then Grace died. Hank was devastated. "I might as well be dead, too," he said. "I don't think I can live without Grace." He was lost without her and inconsolable. Everyone was afraid he would become hard again. He went to the cemetery every day and talked to Grace. And then one sunny afternoon, exactly three months to the day after Grace's death, he bid her farewell, went home, and phoned their mutual friend, Ruth Joyner.
"Ruth," he said, "I'd like to take you out to supper tonight. What do you say? Shall I pick you up at six?"
Ruth didn't know what to say. Finally she blurted out, "Don't you think it's a little bit too soon, Hank?"
But Hank had made up his mind, so he went straight to the point. "Grace always said, 'Hank, if I die before you do, I want you to promise me that you won't wallow in your grief again. I want you to go out and find someone to share your life with you.' I never promised her," Hank said, "because I couldn't bring myself to consider the possibility. But now I know that she was right. I am not one to live alone. But," he went on, changing the tone of his voice, "I'm not asking you to marry me, I'm only asking you out to supper. What's wrong with two old friends having supper together?"
Ruth couldn't think of any kind way to say no, so they had supper together. When Hank took her home they sat on the front porch and talked until the last light had been turned out in all the other houses in the neighborhood. After that they were together every day and had supper together every night. For both Hank and Ruth life was sweet again, and they were eager to share their joy.
When Hank broke the news about Ruth to Naomi, she was horrified. "Daddy, it's only been three months. How could you do this to Mama? What will people think?" Hank tried to explain it to her, but she wouldn't listen to anything he said. Ruth talked to her, too. She tried everything she could think of to make friends with Naomi, but she would have nothing to do with her.
When Christmas came Naomi invited Hank to dinner, but she made it very clear that Ruth was not welcome. Hank wouldn't go without Ruth. He begged Naomi to try to accept Ruth, but she would not relent. From that point on their relationship was strained, and a hardness came over Naomi which was to last as long as she lived. Folks said you could see it in her face and in her eyes, especially in her eyes.
John's Scrap Pile
How Soon is "Soon"?
Advent is both a time of remembering and a time of preparation. We remember what God has done in the past, in Moses, in the prophets, in Jesus, and in our own lives. And we try to prepare ourselves for what God will do in the future. We never know how or when God will break into our lives. The message of the Gospel is be ready for anything at any moment.
I went down to the convenience store one day to rent some movies. When I came out with my movies I saw a man standing on the corner holding up a cross with the name "Jesus" printed on the crossbar. He was waving it at passing cars and shouting "Jesus is coming soon! Heaven or hell forever!" I looked at the movies I had just rented and paused for a moment, wondering if I would have time to watch them or if I should take them back. I decided to risk it.
Jesus is coming soon. The street-corner prophet got that right. But how soon is "soon"? This is part of the mystery of the faith we live. "Christ has died; Christ is risen; Christ will come again." It is not a question of heaven or hell forever, but of heaven or hell right now, for the kingdom of God is very near. Jesus declared it in his very first words at the beginning of his ministry: "The time is fulfilled, the kingdom of God is at hand..." (Mark 1:15a). It is what we are to pray for every day: "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done" (Matthew 6:10a). It is both here and yet to come. It is a mystery, a reality we live in, a promise fulfilled in the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus, and a promise we wait to be ultimately fulfilled in the time to come. Jesus says, "Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come" (Mark 13:33).
