There are few things more annoying in life than a shopping basket with a bum
wheel. I got one this week that must have sat out the winter under a snow
bank and all of the wheels grabbed and rubbed and wanted to direct the
basket every direction except where I wanted to go. As I came around a
corner I spotting a wonderful blue and yellow can. It was WD-40. Popping
off the lid I sent a miraculous spray of lubricant on the worst offender.
It was a miracle. The wheel loosened and now wanted to go where I wanted it
to go. I put the cap back on the can, replaced it on the shelf and reached
for can number 2. I sprayed another wheel. Once again I replaced the can
and got down a third and a fourth. My logic might have been flawed but I
figured it was the supermarket's basket and the supermarket's WD-40. It was
also important to not make one buyer pay for the repair that would have
ensued had I lubricated all four wheels from just one can.

How grand it was to then have a cart that almost floated down the aisle.
There are very specific places where God would enjoy having us go. He
would enjoy it because He has marvelous plans for us and like every parent
He is most happy to have His children do well. But sometimes we drag our
wheels and go a place we think will bring happiness but to a place He knows
will bring us unhappiness and grief. I have often wondered what He uses for
lubricant. Sometimes I think the lubricants are trials and tribulations.
They catch our attention. See Romans 5:3.

Let us now praise summer flowers. From my upstairs window I look down into
my ice-storm devastated woods to discover an array of foxgloves, tall and
beautiful in their mysterious origin. From an upstairs window on the front
of the house I gaze deeply into a lush display of hostas blanketing the
shaded areas under the sugar maples. From the front window of my car
parades an almost non-breaking stream of summer day-lilies. Finally along
the garden wall standing almost-tall is something so unlovely it is lovely.
It beckons humming birds and appears to have been made Tuesday afternoon
just prior to sundown when God was running out of flower parts and dumped
them all into one gene package and labeled them hollyhocks.

If it were not for Wednesday, Thursday and Friday--Tuesday must have been
God's favorite day of Creation. Flowers were creative creation day. It
was as if He tripped and smeared His palette across the fields and
roadsides. Everything was there from deep passionate reds to dazzling
brown-eyed susans ready to lure the bees that were yet forty-eight hours
away. Could we accuse God of deliberately making nectar to inebriate
butterflies that we might laugh at their reelings about our feet?

As that part of earth called Eden turned away from the sun into evening
there was silence. It would be yet two more days before toads and frogs
would fill the night with their courting serenades. That evening when God
said, "That is good" He must have thought, "Oh, yes. But it is going to get
better." The tenors and the bassos, the sopranos and the altos were yet to
do their thing.

AT&T is currently running one of their best ever commercials. City streets
are filled with children's art. The background music is Pure Imagination
sung by Gene Wilder from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. The words
designed to spur creative thought are:

"Come with me and you'll be
In a world of pure imagination.
Take a look and you'll see
Into your imagination.

We'll begin with a spin
Traveling in the world of my creation.
What we'll see will defy
Explanation.

If you want to view paradise
Simply look around and view it.
Anything you want to, do it.
Want to change the world, there's nothing to it

There is no life I know
To compare with pure imagination.
Living there, you'll be free
If you truly wish to be.

Ephesians 3:20 says, "Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly
above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, . .
." I have a feeling Paul and Willy Wonka would so agree with each other.
Unfortunately the older we get the more practical we usually become ending
with limited concepts of what God can do with us. Ephesians 2 speaks of
God's plans for our working with Him. I wonder if anyone other than Jesus
ever fulfilled God's Plan "A". Most of us can only see Plans "B" and "C" in
our rearview mirror. I can only imagine that I am working on Plan "Triple
Z." Fortunately for us God never runs out of letters. God wants little
children to come to Him because they can still dream great dreams. They can
still imagine.

Having very few items of much value my wife and I rarely think about
something being taken. However in the past few weeks our home has had a
steady stream of workers doing remodeling tasks. Not believing anyone would
actually take something, we did decide not to create a temptation.
Therefore we decided to hide one item that has sentimental value and is
small enough to "walk away." Now comes the really interesting part. We
cannot remember where we hid it! Doesn't that take the cake? Two old
people rummaging about in their own home looking for something they hid just
a couple weeks ago. I think we have reached the stage of life when we can
hide our own Easter eggs on Good Friday and be genuinely surprised on Sunday
Morning when we find them.

Ever since I was a very little boy I have systematically learned memory
verses from Scripture. The text "Thy Word have I hid in my heart that I
might not sin against thee" was one of the very first verses I learned. I
still know it is Psalm 119:11. Understanding that it should be a long time
until my wife or I suffer long-term memory loss, as opposed to short-term
memory loss, it should be quite a while before I forget that verse. I
cannot think of anything more valuable to retain than God's Word. However,
to retain one first has to learn. There are so many situations in life that
stimulate the memory of God's Word. Just this very morning one of my
students commented about something he owned that instantly brought to mind,
"Thou shall not covet." I won't mention what wonder he owned that almost
made me break Exodus 20:17.

There is a wonderful thought at the close of Hebrews 11. Paul wrote that
his great list of heroes had not yet received the perfection promised.
Their perfection did not come from the list of their great accomplishments.
It is only together with us would they find perfection. Perfection comes as
a gift only from Jesus. As great as Abram was, as great as Gideon, Barak,
Jephthah, Samuel and Rahab were, the only way for them to be perfect was
exactly the same way you and I become perfect. When Jesus was nailed to the
cross one arm pointed backward in history and one arm pointed forward. He
and He alone can provide salvation to anyone who ever lived on this aged
planet. The New Covenant was older than the Old Covenant. The only reason
the Old Covenant ever existed was because of the ignorance of people who
thought they could somehow appease an angry God. The truth is there was
always a loving Father wooing and courting His people. A few caught
glimpses. Habakkuk 2:4, "The just shall live by faith. " And Romans 1:17,
"The just shall live by faith." There is and always has been only one way
to be redeemable. We must allow Jesus to do it for us.

Hebrews 11:34 promises "our weaknesses will be turned to strength." Paul
inserts this for those of us who so often feel inadequate or incapable of
belonging to such an illustrious group. God has His Hebrews 11 people in
every age. They are walking among us. Perhaps you work with one, live with
one, pray or play with one. Their goodness - not their perfection -
permeates their lives and makes our lives richer and more meaningful.

While filling up my car a driver on the other side of the pump was also
filling his car. When he turned and looked at me I literally gasped. If I
had not known Ted Kennedy is dead I would have been sure he was out touring
central Massachusetts. If Senator Kennedy had become president they really
could have used this man as a double. He even had that very pronounced
Bostonian accent. It always takes my breath away for a moment when I see a
very close look-alike.

Many years ago I thought I saw my uncle at a Pennsylvania Turnpike rest
stop. When I mentioned it my Dad, his brother, my Dad asked, "Why didn't
you talk to him?" Well, I explained, the woman with him wasn't my aunt, so
I knew it wasn't him. My Dad's response was, "All the more reason to think
it was him."

I have always thought how incredibly marvelous it would be if I would be
taken as a double for Jesus. Since my Arian features would most likely not
be close to Jesus' Semitic features, it would have to be related to
mannerisms and behaviors. Acts 4:13 says, "When they saw the boldness of
Peter and John, and perceived that they were unlearned and ignorant men,
they marvelled; and they took knowledge of them, that they had been with
Jesus." One cannot spend time with Jesus without being changed. It's a
basic fact of life. Paul referred to it as having the mind of Jesus in us.
What an amazing goal, to think His thoughts and to have His ideas.

Being that the Boston Celtics are in the finals against their historic rival
the Lakers I am semi-engaged in what is happening. I say semi because I
have never been enamored with ten very tall guys throwing a ball through a
hoop. I have a theory about basketball. We should give each team 100
points and then play for five minutes. This week while watching one of the
games I heard a new term. By telling you this I am revealing how ignorant I
am, but oh well. I heard the commentators talking about one of the players
getting a triple-double. I didn't have a clue. But I do know how to use
Goggle. A triple-double is when one player tallies double digits in three
areas. For example, 26 points, 12 assists and 16 rebounds. Magic Johnson
holds the record for 30 triple-doubles during playoff series.

Obviously one has to be very good to achieve such status. Hebrews 11 has
always fascinated me. Paul records a list of God's greats. These are the
triple-double quality people. It is exciting to note the list is not
closed. Hebrews 12:1 says, "Seeing we also are compassed about with so
great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which
doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set
before us, . . ." When it's foggy I think of God's cloud of witnesses.
There are so many millions of droplets of water. Heaven's list is huge and
you and I have the opportunity to be included. Someone is probably saying,
"Not me." Yes, you. All you need is perfection and that is a gift from
Jesus.

In the latter part of last year a mother of four was admitted to a hospital
in Phoenix. She was in the first trimester of a pregnancy and the right
side of her heart had ceased to function. After careful and prayerful
consideration Sister Margaret McBride, the hospital administrator, granted
permission for the baby to be aborted. It was the only way to save the
mother who had four children at home who needed her. Sister McBride is a
highly respected member of the Sisters of Mercy and had an unblemished
record but she had broken church law. The Bishop of the Phoenix diocese
forthwith excommunicated her taking away her rights to communion and any
other sacrament.

I mention this because it is a classic example of following the letter of
the law and forgetting the spirit of the law. In Mark 2 Jesus commends
David for feeding his men the shewbread from the temple because his men were
in need of food. It was a clear violation of temple law. Only the priests
were to eat the shewbread. David's men with all the notches on their spear
shafts could hardly be considered priests. Over and over Jesus sought to
have us understand that people are more important than laws. Laws are made
to protect people and when they do the opposite principles come into
operation. In Galatians Paul says the entire law is summed up in how we
treat others.

Solomon once said there is a time to kill. Sister McBride's dilemma was
which one was to die, the mother or the developing baby. If we think this
was an easy decision it is only because we have never had to do so.

I saw some children playing outside this dusk. How is it that such a
normal activity has become rare? How wonderful it used to be to play until
dark or until someone's mother stood on the porch and called for her
children to come inside. Hide and Seek was my favorite. One had the option
of hiding so one could not be found or hiding close to home base so you
could race to the base before the person who was "it." If you hid really
well the only way to get you to come out was the call, "Allee, allee, in
free."

"Allee, allee, in free." This is the message of Jesus. People try to hide
from Him and He calls out, "Whosoever will, let him take the water of life
freely."

"Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved."

"Whosoever lives and believes in me shall never die."

"Whosever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life."

Please note the continued use of "whosoever." The New Testament is filled
with the use of this word. Please note there are no gender, no racial, no
educational, no age and no national restrictions. Jesus is calling out
"Allee, allee, in free." This is one of those cases when free wasn't free.
Jesus paid a huge price to be able to make this offer. He is "it." He is
the one who hunts the hiders. He wants to catch us and make us "it" so we
can also become hunters of the hiders. Before He left He gave the great
Gospel Commission for us to go and hunt hiders. It is our privilege to join
Him in the greatest quest of all time; find the hiders.

I was sitting in a beautiful church. I could not imagine what it cost.
The pipe organ alone cost more than most church buildings. The stained
glass windows were awesome. Each window told a Bible story. And yet as I
left I was uninspired. The sparse congregation barely sang the hymns and
the sermon was mediocre at best. While walking to my car I remembered a
church on the slopes of Mount Kenya where we attended a Campmeeting. The
roof was rusted, corrugated metal and the sides were vertical wooden slates
filled with knot holes. There was no pulpit and the people sat on planks on
blocks. When it rained, and it did every day, I had to stop preaching
because the sound on the roof was mesmerizingly deafening. The best part
was the music. The music leader would hold up an empty orange Fanta bottle
by the lip on the top of the bottle and beat out rhythms by striking it with
the side of a coin. Oh how the people would sing. It was a foretaste of
heaven.

Obviously great worship experiences don't have to occur in great cathedrals.
Emily Dickenson once wrote,

"Some keep the Sabbath going to Church --
I keep it, staying at Home --
With a Bobolink for a Chorister --
And an Orchard, for a Dome -

Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice --
I just wear my Wings --
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton -- sings.

God preaches, a noted Clergyman --
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at last --
I'm going, all along."

How absolutely grand!!

Life is full of surprises. We don't always get what we expected. A couple
of months ago we went to the local shelter and brought home a pretty black
lab puppy or so we thought. As she has matured we noticed her behavior is
not that of a lab. She is a border collie in black lab clothes. I had a
border collie when I was a boy and while I loved her dearly I had vowed not
to get another one. They have this very inbred behavior of wanting to herd
everything. She wants to round up people and keep them in a group. This is
accomplished by gentle nips on the back of legs. Fortunately we don't have
small children in the house. Well, it's too late now. We have fallen in
love and will live with this very sweet dog that wants all her people in one
place where she can see us.

Her latest adventure happened just an hour or so ago. She met our
neighborhood fox. Ouch! We are very glad she is up to date on her rabies
shot. It was a very scary encounter for both of them and her not so bad
wounds will quickly heal. She seems very happy to be inside right now.

I have seen both brides and grooms surprised after a few months of marriage.
They didn't quite get what they were expecting. Sometimes it is much better
than what they wanted and of course the opposite also happens. There are
very few sure things in life. Now comes the good part. There is one sure
thing. God loves you dearly. Jesus died to save you. Salvation is a gift.
Perhaps that's the greatest surprise of all.

Amos is called a minor prophet. He is called that because his book is
small. However, his message is huge and just as appropriate today as it
was hundreds of years before Jesus was born. The heart of his message comes
in chapter five. Speaking for God he wrote, "I hate, I despise your feast
days, and I do not savor your sacred assemblies. Though you offer Me burnt
offerings and your grain offerings, I will not accept them, nor will I
regard your fattened peace offerings. Take away from Me the noise of your
songs, for I will not hear the melody of your stringed instruments. But let
justice run down like water, and righteousness like a mighty stream."

Let us not deceive ourselves because of tradition, or habits of behavior, to
think that our present way of conducting business is any less offensive to
God than it was in Amos' day. Society, despite civil rights legislation
which should shame Christianity to think we needed secular powers to force
us to do the right thing, is still far from perfect. Our churches still
practice discrimination in more than one form. We should be the leaders and
not the tail when it comes to matters of justice and righteousness.

I refrain from mentioning a specific because that would narrow the message
to a particular issue. The call is broader than one issue. It is about the
ability and willingness of God's people to examine whatever civic or
religious group we support and be sure we are not benignly and without
thought supporting policies or doctrines that deny a group or a person the
right to full participation. Let justice run down like water and
righteousness like a mighty river.

It was one of those moments every guy fears. I tried my best to twist off
the cap on a bottle of limeade. I tried drying my hand. I tried using my
shirt. It was all to no avail. Just before heading for the garage to get a
pair of wide-mouthed pliers my sister, my almost ten years older sister,
picked up the bottle and took off the cap. My manhood was crushed. I'm sure
she is still laughing.

So what is it that defines manhood? Might I rescue my ego by describing
manhood as something much greater than a physical act of strength? Many
self-help books regarding this topic fill library shelves, but the most
interesting is found in Ephesians 5. In verse 25 Paul challenges us.
"Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave
Himself for her." I cannot imagine raising the bar any higher than that.
Real men know their highest calling is to provide a safe, nurturing
environment for their families.

The actual details of gender roles and family relations differ from culture
to culture and family to family. It really isn't nearly as important who
vacuums and who mows the lawn as is the atmosphere of mutual trust and
teamwork. The important thing is that each person knows they are loved and
respected for what talent they bring to the home. Modern families are
challenged to find adequate time to foster interpersonal growth. We are so
very busy in this twenty-first century and I sometimes hear people try to
justify their busyness by saying while they can't have large quantities of
time they at least have quality time. My only response is absence does not
make the heart grow fonder. That is an old wives' tale.

I sometimes wish life was as easy to sort out as it is in the old-time
westerns when the good guys wore white hats. I very much doubt there is
much of a market for white hats. Good historians, those dedicated to seeing
through our self-created myths, seek to reveal as much actuality as
possible. The more we study the more we come to realize our heroes of the
past were just people with good publicists. One of my heroes, Thomas
Jefferson, was a spendthrift and a slave holder. Yet I realize how wrong it
is to judge a historical character by today's ethics. Unless we know all
the details we would be wise to withhold judgment. Every time and every
culture cast their own shade of gray upon human behavior.

It is best to keep our heroes at arms length and not seek too much detail.
Many years ago we had a family to our home for Sabbath dinner. Upon leaving
the husband reported to others that I, the pastor, was not the man they
thought I was. I don't think that was to be understood that I was better
than he had thought. His big mistake was coming to dinner. Some might say,
"You should have been better." Sorry about that, but, I think I lost my
white hat after about one week in the ministry.

Rarely am I surprised or crushed when I hear something negative about a
sterling person. My concept of him is not lowered because I know all of us
are very flawed. But I might think less of the person who bore the bad
tidings. There has only been one among us worthy of the white hat. See
Hebrew 4:15 for the answer.

When I was a very little boy, before we moved to the country, we lived in a
city row house with just enough room between the house beside us to
accommodate a walkway and a small patch of ground. The patch had no grass.
It was perfect for playing marbles. I don't really remember the rules of
the game but there were three small holes I had dug and it had something to
do with using a shooter to knock other marbles into the holes. The very
best part of my day was when my father would come home from school. He would
get down on his hands and knees and play marbles with me. I would smooth
the dirt, rub the marbles clean on my pants, sit on the steps of the porch
and wait for his car, our car, an old black prewar something. I don't know
what it was.

How strange it is that so many decades later I am still waiting for my
Father. I have grown up in a church that is waiting. The entire concept of
waiting is embedded in its name. I have watched my friends and family
engaged in this waiting process. We speak of it almost weekly. It is based
upon the promises of Jesus. I wonder if in some undesigned way the waiting
has kept us from truly appreciating the now. We almost want the world to
get worse and worse so Jesus will return and take us to our Father.
Catastrophes are almost welcomed.

If I read carefully what Jesus said, I wonder if we have missed the promises
that once we make Him the Lord of our lives, the blessings and benefits of
citizenship in the Kingdom of the Father are not merely the future but are
the now. See John 5.