Why Did He Ask?
Stories
Object:
Contents
"Why did he ask?" by C. David McKirachan
"The Power of Patience" by Keith Wagner
"Roads to Joy" by Keith Wagner
Why did he ask?
by C. David McKirachan
Matthew 11:2-11
If somebody comes into my house at this time of year and asks me, “What season is it?” I’d be sure they were being sarcastic, or they had come from another culture, insulated from the tsunami that we call Christmas. I go a little nuts. There are winged messengers sprouting from almost every horizontal surface that’s not for sitting or food preparation. And every doorway is a trap for anyone over 6’3”. They’re hanging there too. Santa’s and nutcrackers are wedged into every corner and a large evergreen tree dominates the living room, scintillating with over 2000 lights (I stopped counting there) and blown glass ornaments, popsicle stick animals and ornaments of the Grateful Dead, New York Yankees (for my wife), Eli Manning (quarter back of the NY Giants), Green Lantern (my favorite super hero), prisms that catch all the light and make more of it, and more angels. The Steinway baby grand that was made for my wife’s great aunt when ‘We’re Coming Over and We Won’t Come Back ‘Till It’s Over Over There’ was topping the hit parade becomes the stage for our 70 figure crèche (three sets plus extras) including 9 Magi (it says three gifts, not three Magi), a herd of camels, and another flock of angels. And then there’s’ the Advent Wreath, two feet in diameter, white bisque china, also angel polluted. Yup, no doubt around here, it’s Christmas. Our churches are also full of decorations, bazaars, pageants, candlelight services, and carols. And the streets and stores are transformed into Santa’s distribution points.
But no matter how intense and profligate the signs of the holiday may be, all of these are traditions that do not answer John’s question, “Are you the one, or should we look for another?” None of them demonstrate the presence of something new being born in the midst of our daily agendas. They may be a wonderful diversion, a sign that there is more to us than work and a dog eat dog power struggle, but they do little to demonstrate a transformative moment in human kind’s history.
Jesus answered John’s question with “Tell John what you see, the blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news preached to them...” He told the disciples to look around them and see the results of the grace of God and the presence of the Holy Spirit in this community of believers.
I wonder, if a prophet asked that question of us in our churches, would we answer with such benchmarks of the Kingdom of God? Or would our proofs of Christ’s birth, that he is “...born to us a savior,” bring up the amount of money we made on the Christmas bazaar, the number of people who attended our services, and the herd of lambs (so cutely portrayed by the Kindergarten) in the Sunday School pageant?
As I write this I indict myself. I love the way we celebrate Christmas. I love all the pageantry. I love the story itself. I love the expectation. I love the liminal nature of this moment in time when the touch of God is tangible. I love the way people get so impractical and sentimental. I love the way the music stops us in our tracks. I love the giving. I love the receiving. But maybe I need to be open to the vision of our Lord who told us to bring the homeless into our homes and feed the hungry and forgive and make peace. Maybe I need to remember that He was born to a refugee family in a garage because they couldn’t find shelter with a family, in a manger because there was no bed. Maybe I need to be willing to let the signs of the times guide me like the stars guided the Magi beyond my comfort zone to bring extravagant gifts to children and families who are scrambling for survival.
If we are to be the people of God, disciples and followers of this Jesus who we lift up as the Christ, then maybe we need to spend more of our energy opening our community to the power of the Holy Spirit to shine with his redeeming power, to stand with the ones he spoke of as blessed. Maybe then people would say, “Oh, that’s what it means to be a follower of Jesus. Wow! That’s amazing.”
Writing this is a gift God has given me. I thank him for this time of sharing that shows me again that his coming into our broken world is not a quick fix, but a gracious process.
Miracles do happen. At this time of year that is so much easier to believe. An angel told me that. Listen to them sing.
Merry Christmas.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. Two of his books, I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder, have been published by Westminster John Knox Press. McKirachan was raised in a pastor's home and he is the brother of a pastor, and he has discovered his name indicates that he has druid roots. Storytelling seems to be a congenital disorder. He lives with his 21-year-old son Ben and his dog Sam.
* * *
The Power of Patience
by Keith Wagner
James 5:7-10
I have always struggled with the virtue of patience. I was the one on family road trips who was always asking, “Are we there yet?” Although I have not mastered the art of being patient, I had something happen to me about 30 years ago that taught me the valuable lesson of patience.
I had a denominational meeting to attend in Urbana, Ohio. I was in a hurry, traveling north on route 68 from Springfield. In front of me was a car going slower than the speed limit. I knew I would be late to my meeting unless I managed to pass the car and increase my speed. I finally got an opportunity to pass and managed to navigate around the “slow poke” in front of me. It was an elderly woman who was not in a big hurry. A few minutes later I arrived on the south side of Urbana at a traffic light. It was red, so I had to stop. I looked in my rear view mirror and there was the car I had just passed a few minutes before.
I glanced back to the traffic light, which was still red and then, suddenly, the car behind me plowed into me and knocked me forward into the intersection. The damage wasn’t excessive but since I had been involved in an accident I had to wait for the police to come and file a report. The woman who hit me wasn’t hurt and there was no damage to her car. Obviously I was late for my meeting and I had a stiff neck for about a month. Had I not been in such a big hurry and remained behind the “slow poke” for a few more minutes I would have made my meeting with time to spare.
James told the people of his day to be patient. Patience is a virtue that is essential for people of faith. When it comes to matters of faith we want God to respond to our needs immediately. Since we live in a society where everything is available to us and we can get what we need as quickly as possible, we believe that God should do the same.
I will never forget the time I moved away from my parents in 1979. Until that year I had always lived in close proximity to them. Except for my college years and time in the Navy, this was the first time as an adult I had literally cut the apron strings and ventured out on my own. It was soon thereafter that I entered the ministry.
The day I left Florida, I remember my mother standing in the driveway trying desperately to hold back the tears. She sensed I would not be returning. Mothers are like that. They have the ability to sense things that others can’t. As strange as this may sound I felt that at that moment I was also being affirmed in my decision to move on. Although it was painful for my mother to see one of her sons move away it was also something she had to do. I had come into my own and it was time to make my life’s journey.
About a year later I received the call to ministry. When I called my mother to give her the news she said, “I am not surprised. I knew from the very beginning you would someday be called.” I asked my mother why she didn’t share that with me before. She replied, “I couldn’t, because you had to discover it on your own.” My mother waited over 30 years for this to take place, always keeping it a secret. Talk about patience.
There is a story from The Best of Bits & Pieces, by Arthur Lenehan, that illustrates the virtue of patience. One time a wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream. The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone in the wise woman’s bag, admired it, and asked the wise woman to give it to him. The wise woman did so without hesitation. The traveler left, rejoicing in his good fortune. He knew the jewel was worth enough to give him security for the rest of his life.
But a few days later he came back, searching for the wise woman. When he found her, he returned the stone and said, "I have been thinking. I know how valuable this stone is, but I give it back to you in the hope that you can give me something much more precious. If you can, give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me the stone."
* * *
Roads to Joy
by Keith Wagner
Isaiah 35:1-10
During the years 2000-2002 my wife and I frequently drove from Sidney, Ohio to Troy, Ohio, which is 20 miles south of Sidney, for dinner. During that time there was construction on I-75. They were widening it and making three lanes instead of two. I was anxious for the construction to end because of the cement barriers that lined the road. It was taking forever to complete and the traffic through that area was dangerous.
Instead of just adding a lane they totally dug up the old road and replaced it with a new one. It was the only way a new road could be constructed. Upon completion it would be much safer to travel since some of the dips and hills would be leveled. We had to be patient and allow the old road to be removed as we anticipated the new road that was being built.
Our lives are like that. We want newness but are we willing to bury the old? There is a new highway for all of us when we are willing to allow our old ones to be destroyed. New relationships, new understandings, new opportunities can all be realized when we let go of the old ones which keep us from being fulfilled or experiencing the joy of life.
As Isaiah says, “A highway shall be there.... everlasting joy shall be upon our heads; we shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”
For the people in Isaiah’s day, there was no road for them. They were in a desert wasteland with no water for survival. There was no fertile soil to grow crops. They were trapped, doomed in a barren place, with no apparent way to be liberated from their bondage. So in a vivid and prophetic manner, Isaiah told them that “a highway would be there.” It was a road where there would be joyful singing, one that would lead them to eternal happiness.
When Warren Avis was in his 20’s, during the 1940’s, he was told that there was no way a national car rental company would work. When he was in the Air Force during WWII he flew in and out of many airports. He frequently needed ground transportation during his trips but there was none available. To help people reach their destination he got an idea. In Detroit, Michigan he put a few rental cars near the baggage claim area. Within a few years his rental car business became the second largest rental company in the US.
Years before, in August 1873, Andrew Hallidie attempted something very unique. He owned a company that produced wire cable. He got an idea to run a cable car in San Francisco that worked on a pulley system. The day he was to give his new cable car a test the driver shook his head at the new system and said “No.!” Hallidie decided to navigate the car himself. From that point on the cable car became a tremendous success. Although they were eventually replaced by the automobile the importance of Hallidie’s accomplishment became part of history. There is now a national park named after the first cable car which is called Hallidie’s Folly.
History shows that roadways have always been opened when there was no route in sight. Roads are liberating. They keep us moving and they give us hope. We might have to be patient during construction but eventually we can experience the joy they bring.
Rev. Dr. Keith Wagner is the pastor of St. John's UCC in Troy, Ohio. He has served churches in Southwest Ohio for over three decades. He is an ordained minister of the United Church of Christ and has an M.Div. from Methodist Theological School, Delaware, Ohio, and a D.Min. from United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio. He has also been an adjunct professor at Edison Community College, Piqua, Ohio. He and his wife, Lin, live in Springfield, Ohio.
*****************************************
StoryShare, December 11, 2016, issue.
Copyright 2016 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.
"Why did he ask?" by C. David McKirachan
"The Power of Patience" by Keith Wagner
"Roads to Joy" by Keith Wagner
Why did he ask?
by C. David McKirachan
Matthew 11:2-11
If somebody comes into my house at this time of year and asks me, “What season is it?” I’d be sure they were being sarcastic, or they had come from another culture, insulated from the tsunami that we call Christmas. I go a little nuts. There are winged messengers sprouting from almost every horizontal surface that’s not for sitting or food preparation. And every doorway is a trap for anyone over 6’3”. They’re hanging there too. Santa’s and nutcrackers are wedged into every corner and a large evergreen tree dominates the living room, scintillating with over 2000 lights (I stopped counting there) and blown glass ornaments, popsicle stick animals and ornaments of the Grateful Dead, New York Yankees (for my wife), Eli Manning (quarter back of the NY Giants), Green Lantern (my favorite super hero), prisms that catch all the light and make more of it, and more angels. The Steinway baby grand that was made for my wife’s great aunt when ‘We’re Coming Over and We Won’t Come Back ‘Till It’s Over Over There’ was topping the hit parade becomes the stage for our 70 figure crèche (three sets plus extras) including 9 Magi (it says three gifts, not three Magi), a herd of camels, and another flock of angels. And then there’s’ the Advent Wreath, two feet in diameter, white bisque china, also angel polluted. Yup, no doubt around here, it’s Christmas. Our churches are also full of decorations, bazaars, pageants, candlelight services, and carols. And the streets and stores are transformed into Santa’s distribution points.
But no matter how intense and profligate the signs of the holiday may be, all of these are traditions that do not answer John’s question, “Are you the one, or should we look for another?” None of them demonstrate the presence of something new being born in the midst of our daily agendas. They may be a wonderful diversion, a sign that there is more to us than work and a dog eat dog power struggle, but they do little to demonstrate a transformative moment in human kind’s history.
Jesus answered John’s question with “Tell John what you see, the blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news preached to them...” He told the disciples to look around them and see the results of the grace of God and the presence of the Holy Spirit in this community of believers.
I wonder, if a prophet asked that question of us in our churches, would we answer with such benchmarks of the Kingdom of God? Or would our proofs of Christ’s birth, that he is “...born to us a savior,” bring up the amount of money we made on the Christmas bazaar, the number of people who attended our services, and the herd of lambs (so cutely portrayed by the Kindergarten) in the Sunday School pageant?
As I write this I indict myself. I love the way we celebrate Christmas. I love all the pageantry. I love the story itself. I love the expectation. I love the liminal nature of this moment in time when the touch of God is tangible. I love the way people get so impractical and sentimental. I love the way the music stops us in our tracks. I love the giving. I love the receiving. But maybe I need to be open to the vision of our Lord who told us to bring the homeless into our homes and feed the hungry and forgive and make peace. Maybe I need to remember that He was born to a refugee family in a garage because they couldn’t find shelter with a family, in a manger because there was no bed. Maybe I need to be willing to let the signs of the times guide me like the stars guided the Magi beyond my comfort zone to bring extravagant gifts to children and families who are scrambling for survival.
If we are to be the people of God, disciples and followers of this Jesus who we lift up as the Christ, then maybe we need to spend more of our energy opening our community to the power of the Holy Spirit to shine with his redeeming power, to stand with the ones he spoke of as blessed. Maybe then people would say, “Oh, that’s what it means to be a follower of Jesus. Wow! That’s amazing.”
Writing this is a gift God has given me. I thank him for this time of sharing that shows me again that his coming into our broken world is not a quick fix, but a gracious process.
Miracles do happen. At this time of year that is so much easier to believe. An angel told me that. Listen to them sing.
Merry Christmas.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. Two of his books, I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder, have been published by Westminster John Knox Press. McKirachan was raised in a pastor's home and he is the brother of a pastor, and he has discovered his name indicates that he has druid roots. Storytelling seems to be a congenital disorder. He lives with his 21-year-old son Ben and his dog Sam.
* * *
The Power of Patience
by Keith Wagner
James 5:7-10
I have always struggled with the virtue of patience. I was the one on family road trips who was always asking, “Are we there yet?” Although I have not mastered the art of being patient, I had something happen to me about 30 years ago that taught me the valuable lesson of patience.
I had a denominational meeting to attend in Urbana, Ohio. I was in a hurry, traveling north on route 68 from Springfield. In front of me was a car going slower than the speed limit. I knew I would be late to my meeting unless I managed to pass the car and increase my speed. I finally got an opportunity to pass and managed to navigate around the “slow poke” in front of me. It was an elderly woman who was not in a big hurry. A few minutes later I arrived on the south side of Urbana at a traffic light. It was red, so I had to stop. I looked in my rear view mirror and there was the car I had just passed a few minutes before.
I glanced back to the traffic light, which was still red and then, suddenly, the car behind me plowed into me and knocked me forward into the intersection. The damage wasn’t excessive but since I had been involved in an accident I had to wait for the police to come and file a report. The woman who hit me wasn’t hurt and there was no damage to her car. Obviously I was late for my meeting and I had a stiff neck for about a month. Had I not been in such a big hurry and remained behind the “slow poke” for a few more minutes I would have made my meeting with time to spare.
James told the people of his day to be patient. Patience is a virtue that is essential for people of faith. When it comes to matters of faith we want God to respond to our needs immediately. Since we live in a society where everything is available to us and we can get what we need as quickly as possible, we believe that God should do the same.
I will never forget the time I moved away from my parents in 1979. Until that year I had always lived in close proximity to them. Except for my college years and time in the Navy, this was the first time as an adult I had literally cut the apron strings and ventured out on my own. It was soon thereafter that I entered the ministry.
The day I left Florida, I remember my mother standing in the driveway trying desperately to hold back the tears. She sensed I would not be returning. Mothers are like that. They have the ability to sense things that others can’t. As strange as this may sound I felt that at that moment I was also being affirmed in my decision to move on. Although it was painful for my mother to see one of her sons move away it was also something she had to do. I had come into my own and it was time to make my life’s journey.
About a year later I received the call to ministry. When I called my mother to give her the news she said, “I am not surprised. I knew from the very beginning you would someday be called.” I asked my mother why she didn’t share that with me before. She replied, “I couldn’t, because you had to discover it on your own.” My mother waited over 30 years for this to take place, always keeping it a secret. Talk about patience.
There is a story from The Best of Bits & Pieces, by Arthur Lenehan, that illustrates the virtue of patience. One time a wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream. The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone in the wise woman’s bag, admired it, and asked the wise woman to give it to him. The wise woman did so without hesitation. The traveler left, rejoicing in his good fortune. He knew the jewel was worth enough to give him security for the rest of his life.
But a few days later he came back, searching for the wise woman. When he found her, he returned the stone and said, "I have been thinking. I know how valuable this stone is, but I give it back to you in the hope that you can give me something much more precious. If you can, give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me the stone."
* * *
Roads to Joy
by Keith Wagner
Isaiah 35:1-10
During the years 2000-2002 my wife and I frequently drove from Sidney, Ohio to Troy, Ohio, which is 20 miles south of Sidney, for dinner. During that time there was construction on I-75. They were widening it and making three lanes instead of two. I was anxious for the construction to end because of the cement barriers that lined the road. It was taking forever to complete and the traffic through that area was dangerous.
Instead of just adding a lane they totally dug up the old road and replaced it with a new one. It was the only way a new road could be constructed. Upon completion it would be much safer to travel since some of the dips and hills would be leveled. We had to be patient and allow the old road to be removed as we anticipated the new road that was being built.
Our lives are like that. We want newness but are we willing to bury the old? There is a new highway for all of us when we are willing to allow our old ones to be destroyed. New relationships, new understandings, new opportunities can all be realized when we let go of the old ones which keep us from being fulfilled or experiencing the joy of life.
As Isaiah says, “A highway shall be there.... everlasting joy shall be upon our heads; we shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”
For the people in Isaiah’s day, there was no road for them. They were in a desert wasteland with no water for survival. There was no fertile soil to grow crops. They were trapped, doomed in a barren place, with no apparent way to be liberated from their bondage. So in a vivid and prophetic manner, Isaiah told them that “a highway would be there.” It was a road where there would be joyful singing, one that would lead them to eternal happiness.
When Warren Avis was in his 20’s, during the 1940’s, he was told that there was no way a national car rental company would work. When he was in the Air Force during WWII he flew in and out of many airports. He frequently needed ground transportation during his trips but there was none available. To help people reach their destination he got an idea. In Detroit, Michigan he put a few rental cars near the baggage claim area. Within a few years his rental car business became the second largest rental company in the US.
Years before, in August 1873, Andrew Hallidie attempted something very unique. He owned a company that produced wire cable. He got an idea to run a cable car in San Francisco that worked on a pulley system. The day he was to give his new cable car a test the driver shook his head at the new system and said “No.!” Hallidie decided to navigate the car himself. From that point on the cable car became a tremendous success. Although they were eventually replaced by the automobile the importance of Hallidie’s accomplishment became part of history. There is now a national park named after the first cable car which is called Hallidie’s Folly.
History shows that roadways have always been opened when there was no route in sight. Roads are liberating. They keep us moving and they give us hope. We might have to be patient during construction but eventually we can experience the joy they bring.
Rev. Dr. Keith Wagner is the pastor of St. John's UCC in Troy, Ohio. He has served churches in Southwest Ohio for over three decades. He is an ordained minister of the United Church of Christ and has an M.Div. from Methodist Theological School, Delaware, Ohio, and a D.Min. from United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio. He has also been an adjunct professor at Edison Community College, Piqua, Ohio. He and his wife, Lin, live in Springfield, Ohio.
*****************************************
StoryShare, December 11, 2016, issue.
Copyright 2016 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.
