Do you have perpetual love and reverence for His holy Name?

     Some people have enjoyed the “how sermons come about” the last few weeks.  I guess I take it for granted, but for some of you, this has been a bit of pulling back the curtain.  We will see how we all feel this week.  By late Monday afternoon, I found myself wrestling with God.  I had a sermon, quite frankly, a pretty good one.  But I did not want to preach it.  What’s worse, all the confirming signs were there.  The things I was worried about with respect to the sermon, specifically your reactions, were all lived out in other venues.  So, before I get started, understand that I know there will be some spiritual wedgies this morning.  As I speak, though, I do not have any single person or any single event in mind.  I am preaching in general terms and about how you and I are called to minister to the world, more specifically, how you and I are called to glorify God in the world.  We talked last week about how you and I have plots where we tend to the fields.  We water when told to water by God, we weed when told to weed by God, we fertilize when told to be God, and we harvest, every now and again, when given that job by God.  I am speaking this morning about how we are called to that work.  So, if you hear yourself being attacked from the pulpit this morning, it is not me attacking you.  I am here to remind us all that, despite some of the failures we may notice in our callings as a result of this word, all God asks is that we repent and try again.  And remember before I begin, I know I am on that edge.  I worry that I am over that line.  I have wrestled with God all week begging for another sermon, for other signs. 

     The sermon actually began last week, though I did not know it.  There was a particular fight on a site devoted to Episcopalians where participants were conflating immigration and human trafficking.  The name calling was, quite frankly, shameful.  I know it’s part of my ministry within the diocese to stroll into difficult conversations and try to facilitate those, to teach people we can disagree well, that we can disagree and, yet, glorify God in the process.  Nevertheless, I sometimes get tired of the fighting.  Y’all know I wish I had the power of Holy Fire from my WoW priest, where I call down lightning that zaps but leaves a little fire that burns over time.  We are all thankful God does not give that to me.  I know I would have used it last week.

     On this thread, our Episcopal brothers and sisters were arguing about immigration.  Let me first state I understand that there are high passions on the issue right now.  I understand there are tremendous frustrations about this issue right now.  Remember all those times I have told you we are not God’s chosen nation, that we are not the new Israel, that we are not even a Christian nation, if we ever were.  Some of you argued with me  . . . extensively and passionately.  And I reminded all of you who argued that we were that we really did not want to be His new people.  What happens when His people fail to keep the Covenant?  They get punished!  Does anyone here today doubt that we deserve to be punished for how we are treating the children of those trying to sneak across the border?  Does anyone in this sanctuary this morning have any doubts that God’s heart is righteously angered by our leaders claiming to do this with His blessing?

     And, if you are assuming that Here it comes, Brian’s gone all progressive or liberal on us as you sit in your pew this morning, my anger is focused equally on Democrats and on Republicans on this specific issue, as it is on most issues that confront us as a country.  Remember, I am the one who has listened to elected officials of both parties, some men and some women, tell me for years that there just was not enough votes around slavery to justify their paying attention to the problem!  Nobody ever told me slavery was not a moral issue.  Moral issues of right and wrong simply do not inform the actions and votes of our politicians.  We have let the issue of immigration go unaddressed for, what, 30 or 40 years?  We have allowed our legislative and executive leaders to use human beings as pawns in election cycles.  Each side blames the other.  We cast votes according to the way we think.  And nobody addresses the issues.  They avoid the hard work of sausage making, as the legislative process is sometimes called, pocketing money from groups that will run detention camps for money (and who knows what other groups).  And we are left as a country in this position.  And what happens.  Each side blames the other.  The battle lines are drawn.  Hysteria is created by any means possible.  And we gullible sheep go to the polls and pull the buttons or touch the pads just like we always have.  What is the definition of insanity again?

     That effort to tribalize or separate us has conquered our church.  The joke about Episcopalians some years ago was that we were Christian-Lite. Politicians attended our churches because we did not want to offend the rich and powerful in our midst.  We have so marginalized ourselves and God that they do not even bother to come any more.  Even now, some years after the departures of so many of our brothers and sisters for other greener Anglican pastures, still we are allowing ourselves to be divided, to be duped into the belief that we have no obligation to unity, just as the Father and the Son and Holy Spirit are one.  In the Bibles of other churches around here, that prayer that we may be one, just as Jesus and the Father are one, is in red letters!  And still we have chosen the wisdom of the world over the instruction and grace of God.

     Knowing better, I chimed in on this particular thread.  Words were being hurled that did not honor God; worse, statements were bordering again on dehumanizing others – others that are in our church still!  They have had the same opportunities to take the off ramp from our way of doing things and they, like us, have stayed.  The issue that caught my attention was the false claim that the federal government had allowed 1500 children to be sold into slavery.  This was a big story a month or six weeks ago.  Some in the mainstream media read or heard testimony that 1500 children of undocumented immigrants were “lost.”  In their passion to fight against a policy, they tried to frighten the public and stir up emotions by claiming those children had been sold into slavery.  It was only after representatives from all the administrations dating back to the Clinton administration started speaking with the press that the picture really started to come into focus.

     When a family is arrested for illegally crossing our borders, the adults are taken to jail.  The children are deemed innocent because they are being brought by their parents, so we cannot send them to jail.  Instead, they are sent to facilities where they are supposed to be cared for.  Parents are told that, if they accept deportation back to their country of origin, they will be re-united with their children and returned, often within 24 hours.  If they claim asylum, though, a legal process that can take more than a year is begun.  Our system is so freaking broken that we force parents who have fled a native land because of violence or lack or provision or whatever reason to come to a country whose mainstream media teaches them we hate them to choose between getting their kids back and returning to the land they fled or trusting the state to care for their children.  If ever there was a Scylla and Charybidis of parenting, this is it.  And it is, essentially, our law.  A President can try to Executive Order his way around the law, and there are individuals along the way who can make life better or worse for those trapped in its machinations, but, in a country that demands legislative changes to laws, we have allowed this issue to go unaddressed for decades.  Decades.

     But, until we hold our legislators accountable, until we make it clear that this issue really matters to us enough that we are willing to vote them out of office, it will be used by officials to frenzy us up, to divide us.  Think I am crazy?  This week we heard the first stirrings of a possible consideration of maybe making some legislative changes.  Party leaders from both sides responded by telling us that nothing would happen until after the midterm elections.  Only after the election, they claim, will they know the will of the people for sure.  Those tear-inducing stories that you have read?  Our elected officials forget they are about human beings.  If they truly were Christian, if they truly believed themselves to be empowered by the grace and sufferance of God, do you really think they would consider these men and women and children mere votes?  Or would they not remember that these men and women and children, like us, are created in the image of that God they claim to follow?  Would not Christians remember their spiritual ancestor Abraham, a wandering Aramean?  Would not Christians remember Israel sojourn in Egypt, the Exile, and the Dispersion?  Would not those events in our history teach Christians in power about the heart of God and His expectations for those who exert authority?

     Back to the 1500 kids.  If parents claim asylum, they are supposed to be given a chance to have friends or family take the kids in during the asylum process.  The family or friends, if they agree to take the kids, are supposed to be vetted.  Assuming the parents are fine with it and the vetting process suggests everything is fine, the kids are placed in those home of the friends or family.  The federal government is then supposed to check on the well-being of the kids.  We all hate taxes, so this program, like most of the government’s programs, are underfunded.  They resort to e-mails and phone calls rather than physical visits to determine the welfare of the kids involved.  Not unsurprisingly, many of these friends and family of those incarcerated during the asylum process do not look upon our government favorably.  Cooperation can be . . . spotty, to put it delicately.  Understandably so.  When that number of 1500 came out, it meant simply that those responsible for caring for the kids refused to return calls or e-mails to the government.

     Main stream media and politicians helped work us into a frenzy.  Trolls on Facebook tried to paint a picture that our evil government officials, in many cases people just like you and me, were selling children knowingly into slavery.  Such screaming and misinformation unfortunately made it into some of our wider church groups.  As one who is considered by others knowledgeable both about Scripture and about modern slavery, I gave consideration to posting on one of these Episcopal threads.  In truth, I usually hate posting on stuff like that.  I understand the extra work it creates.  Some will engage me as if I’m an idiot, and I have to be gracious toward them, sometimes simply listening silently as they pontificate.  Others will truly engage me, wanting to know what makes me think what I think.  Those conversations, of course, MUST be had.  What kind of a priest, what kind of a reconciler would I be if I passed on those opportunities to get people to see a bigger picture and a God who may have a call on their life regarding the issues about which they are so popular?  And, it’s not like I don’t have enough to do at Advent.  I really don’t need any more work.  But, I was on Facebook and this particular thread popped up on my screen.

     After a bit of wrestling, I started typing.  When finished, I read and re-read and re-read to make sure my language was calm and measured.  And I prayed.  Really, God, do I really need to speak into this and hit the send button?  Will anybody even listen?  I got back that familiar “if not you, who.”  So I hit the send button.  In short form, all I reminded people in our church was that those 1500 children were at less risk of being trafficked in the hands of the government than in the hands of the coyotes who smuggled them into the country.  We know that some coyotes are in the business of trapping undocumented people into slavery.  If we did not take those kids into some kind of custody and left them with the coyotes, they were far more likely to be enslaved.  Can you imagine?  Mostly men who profit by smuggling people.  All they do is guide them into the country, illegally.  They get paid first, and the sums they charge are impressive.  It’s no wonder so many get involved in modern slavery.

     Anyway, the blowback was predictable.  The most creative critique was that I was like Bonhoeffer and other Christian leaders who supported the Nazis.  They claimed to be praying that I would have my spiritual awakening.  Others were far less gracious.  A few engaged in conversations.  Could individuals involved in this on behalf of the government be evil and selling the kids?  Sure.  I’ve no doubt that the for profit prison models and attitudes are guiding us in these camps/warehouses.  Once they are willing to withhold food, water, entertainment, a real bed, it becomes easier and easier to think of those in their care as less than human, more like pets or animals.  If someone with the wrong attitude has financial issues and a slaver discovers it, temptation may win.  But, it still must be done in the shadows.  If other colleagues discover it, or if more and more children find their way into particular slave “rings”, so does law enforcement.  Breaking the law has a legal consequence.  If those same governmental officials find themselves on the inside of a jail accused of child sex trafficking, there are other “penal” consequences.  And let’s just say inmates’ sense of justice is a bit more brutal than our own.

     Not all the conversations that flowed were negative.  In fact, a couple were very positive.  Some admitted to being so blinded by partisan politics that they had not considered how our politicians divide us, stir us up, and then use the frenzy to keep the status quo.  A couple were shocked that I had no easy answer for the immigration issue.  I suppose we live in a society and a church that must have ready-made answers.  I clearly do not on this one.  Since more than half our country does not self-identify as Christians, we certainly have no national Christian duty to move to open borders.  On the other hand, as our support and fomentation of discord in other countries have come to light over the years, some non-Christians argue that we have a moral obligation to those displaced by our activities.  And what of those here already?  Other immigrants are far from one mind!  I’ve been in conversations where they were the most adamant about not rewarding others for breaking the law.  We have fallen into the same pattern so often and so long, that we have a ton of work to do on this issue.  And this is only one issue facing us.  And our church has now been conquered by culture.

     That last statement was driven home Monday afternoon.  A bishop not our own called to chat.  We have a . . . complex relationship.  In some areas, we are in agreement.  In others, we are in disagreement.  Maybe that’s why he’s never been in authority over me; maybe that’s why our relationship flourishes.  God, knows.  But our discussions, while passionate, are always respectful.  We have never stooped to serious name calling in our arguments—we have joked, but we both know we are joking and try to make sure no one overhears us.  He called Monday ostensibly to talk about other issues.  After sharing my opinions and hopes on a couple issues like SSM, Prayer Book Revision, adding administrative salary to the Triennium budget, the unwillingness of Church leaders to move 815, and the recent Supreme Court action with respect to SC at the upcoming General Convention, he asked me what I was thinking when I stepped into that fight last week.  Why make work for yourself?  Later, I had to call and apologize, though he confessed no such apology was needed.  Like me, he does not post on many threads.  When he speaks on any issue, regardless of how well he ties the Gospel or Scripture to it, he always gets flamed.  While there are Adventers who are passionate about specific issues in the wider world, there are way fewer of them than there are in any single diocese.  That’s what this bishop deals with in his ministry.  He hears from members of 60 or 80 or more churches rather than one!

     But I launched into a bit of a frothy diatribe.  If we clergy are not reconciling people to God and each other who will?  If we are afraid to speak what we think is God’s heart into a matter who will?  As a chief pastor in Christ’s One Holy, catholic, and Apostolic Church, he should have had an even greater understanding of that.  You all can imagine that conversation.  You’ve known me for three years now.  I apologized later because Tina grabbed me.  Can you say that to a bishop?  Aren’t you worried about getting fired or de-priested?  When I explained the conversations, she knew what we were talking about, but she also knows human nature.  None of us like to be reminded of what we already know; fewer of us like being told what to do when we have been rebelling against that knowledge for some time.  When I called the bishop back to apologize and to explain myself, he cut me off.  He explained that his skin was thick and that God sometimes needed to use sharper pointed arrows to pierce it from time to time.  In a world so in need of God’s reconciling word, a bishop should encouraging the clergy and laity that are passionate and lovingly about that work, not stoking fears or division or arguing for the easier path of the status quo.  We had a much calmer discussion, at least as far as Tina was concerned, for a few more minutes.  And now you know two big background pieces to this week.

     Look back at our Collect today.  Do you have perpetual love and reverence for God’s holy Name?  More importantly, if you have the guts to ask them, would the people in your daily life and work testify to others that you have perpetual love and reverence for God’s holy Name?  Do they see you reaching out to others in His holy Name that others might be drawn into Christ’s saving embrace?  Do they see you humbling yourself and serving them and others, as your Lord Christ humbled Himself and first served you?  When confronted by difficult issues, are you a measured voice or face to which they turn expecting you to demonstrate how God’s redeeming love in present in whatever mess?  I see the squirms.  I see your faces.  I am not here to condemn you.  I am here to ask you to consider prayerfully the answer to those questions.  If the Holy Spirit is convicting you that you are not the hands, and feet, and voice of His in the world around you, still I am not here to condemn you this morning.  All God asks is that you repent, try again, and trust in His power and love. 

     Let’s dig a bit deeper.  Do we as a congregation evidence a perpetual love and reverence for God’s holy Name?  I’m not talking about there being no disagreements among us.  I am talking about us being able to disagree well.  When we argue with each other in love, do those outside us know that we are seeking to glorify God in our midst, in all that we do, even when we understand we may not be able to discern God’s call or wisdom on any given issue?  Or do they see us as a Sunday morning version of world around us?  Do they see us living our lives as wandering Arameans, confident that our citizenship is not of this country, not of this world, but of someplace far more glorious, somewhere far more inspiring?  Or do they instead, merely think of us as Republicans or Democrats at prayer, listening gullible to men and women in cassocks and albs rather than power ties?

     I would ask those same questions of the Church, but I think we all know the answer to that question.  And while we all know there are many people with the bully pulpits of the world claiming to do things in the name of God, is the Church living into its calling?

     The last couple weeks we have talked a bit about our plots.  I have shared how we are planted in the wilderness as little garden plots.  Our job, to extend the metaphor, is to be those places of Sabbath, those places of shalom, those places where people know and feel they are loved by God.  That’s our job.  It’s out there in the wilderness.  We gather here to be educated, to be trained, to be fed, to be watered, to be encouraged, to be restored to our callings, and then sent back out there again.  To so many of us it seems pointless.  To so many of us it seems impossible.  Who is paying attention anyway?  Who is listening to us?  We claim to serve a God who loves everyone in the world; yet how quickly do we give up serving them in His name?  We claim to serve a God who revels in doing the impossible; yet how often do we quit trying because our calling seems impossible or hard?  We claim to serve a God whose abundant provision is limitless; yet how often do we quit serving in His Name for fear that the “stuff” will run out, be it resources, energy, or time?  We claim to serve a God who is wholly and holy other; yet how often do we fool ourselves and represent to others that we really think He looks and thinks and acts a lot like that person who looks back at us in the mirror?

     As I was trying to wrest the sermon into something more palatable this week, I found myself in wonder in the Gospel.  These guys that were hanging out with Jesus were professional fishermen.  As I was reflecting on the passage I was envisioning ANE versions of those crab fishermen from Deadliest Catch.  With such men there is a certain crustiness, a certain “we’ve seen it all” attitude.  Understandably so.  Death is a constant companion; their own insignificance and vulnerability is thrust upon them by the Bering Sea.  What does it take to frighten such men?  This was that kind of storm.  They wake Jesus and ask rhetorically whether He cares they are going to die.  What does Jesus do?  There are no mumbo jumbo formulaic words.  There’s no wild gesturing.  He simply and maybe even sleepily commands the storm and waves “Peace!  Be still!”  And they obey.  Such is His authority that nature obeys His simple command.

     Place yourself in their shoes for a second. Pretend you are terrified you are about to drown from that storm.  Add to that your cultural understanding that the seas and oceans are the places where Yahweh and Chaos battle.  Place yourself in a region where most think chaos and death reign in those watery places, and that we are truly only safe on land.  You wake Jesus from a good, solid nap.  He tells the storm simply to be quiet, and it quiets!  Should not your fear be greater regarding the one who commands the storm that terrified you?  Should not you recognize that, as powerful as that storm was, He is even more powerful, almost offhandedly so?

     Chances are, you have already had that moment in your life?  What event or series of events caused you to choose to place Jesus Christ as Lord of your life?  What encounter in your life convinced you that He was worthy of worship, worthy of honor and worthy of glory?  Does your reverence today resemble the reverence of that day?  Does your love of Him today and His saving work in your life resemble the love you had when you first made that decision to pick up your cross and follow Him?  Or has, as the sophists taught, familiarity bred contempt in your heart?  My real guess is that our love and reverence get misplaced.  When we first hear the Gospel and internalize it, when we first make that decision to follow Jesus, we are truly thankful, we are truly loving, and we are truly reverent.  The mere idea that the Creator of heaven and earth, of all that is, seen and unseen, would stoop down to lift us up is awe-inspiring.  Each of us gathered here has a story or series of stories to tell ourselves and others about what makes us unlovable.  I have heard some of those stories these last three years.  Some of us sought love in a steady of arms of others, using them for our own pain and never once considering how our use of them dehumanized them.  Some of us sought to dull the pains of our life in the bottom of bottles or through the use of illegal drugs.  Some of us worshipped blindly the idols of our society: money, power, reputation, or others.  Some of us grappled uncomfortably with the question of whether “this” was all that there is.

     Until we met Him.

     For some of us, that encounter was like a lightning bolt, more akin to Paul’s encounter on the road to Damascus.  One moment we were going through our day, dealing with our normal cares and concerns and fears, and then, BOOM!, He was there.  And we were blessed to recognize Him as the answer to those questions in our lives.  We were blessed to see Him offering hope in the midst of despair, healing in the midst of our woundedness, and life in the midst of death.  For others, the encounter was less earth-shattering and more a “long, slow play.”  Maybe a sermon or service caught our eye.  Maybe the calm witness of another intrigued us.  Maybe we decided to do our own research and figure out what “this” was all about.  And before we knew it, we were saying the creeds, we were participating actively in the Eucharist, and we were talking (praying, if you like) with Him all the time.  We might not be able to point to the moment like others, but the offer of salvation was no less meaningful.

     Like those in our story today, like those in the stories of Mark yet to come this season after Pentecost, though, we wanted to reject His power, His authority, His claim.  That reverence and love we first had were overcome by our doubt of the encounter.  If we answer honestly, our love and reverence for what He offered was replaced by a fear of what He expects of us.  We despise the unknown; we despise change.  And so we misplaced our love on who we were; we misplaced our reverence for fear that He might not know or might not be able to effect the change, the transformation to use the fancy language of the Church, to which He called us.

     Want to argue with me?  Feel free.  But wrestle, too, with the Scriptures and with God.  How do the disciples and the Apostles respond to His power and authority?  How do the good folks at Gerasenes, when confronted with His authority over supernatural evil?  How do the mourners at Jairus’ house, when confronted with His authority even over death?  The folks in His hometown?  The rabbis and scribes?  Herod?  How did I?  How did you?  Time and time again, when confronted with the authority of Jesus, human beings prove unwilling to love and reverence God’s Christ.  We live that same unwillingness in our own lives.  And the world is a bit darker for our stiff-necked irreverence and hatred.

     Thankfully and mercifully, that is not the end of the story.  Those same apostles and disciples who do not know what to think of their Master in the calming aftermath of the storm will be given the fullest demonstration of His power and authority that wonderful Easter morning.  Similarly, you and I understand, even if we do not know quite what to make of God and His plan, that Jesus’ authority is supreme in our lives because of that empty tomb and glorious ascension!  And so this day, as with every day, we pray that God, in His loving-kindness, His hesed, will give us that perpetual love and reverence for His holy Name, that our witness to His power and His authority might draw others into His saving embrace, might turn our wilderness plots into miniature shadowy copies of Eden, might inspire others to act according to His will on earth as it is in heaven.

In Christ’s Peace,

Brian†

On the patient faith of the farmer . . . and to which He calls us!

     Why does Jesus teach using parable?  If I had a dollar for every time I have been asked that, we’d have a new fridge!  And a new everything!  For many people, the fact that Jesus uses parables drives them up the wall.  I remind people that parables are good for them.  Parables make us think about what Jesus is saying.  More often than not, what Jesus is saying is really complex.  Parables enabled him to instruct His disciples and us better about those complexities that exist in life.  I also remind people they should be glad that Jesus uses parables for sermon preparation.  Think how bored you are hearing the same readings and sermons every three years.  Imagine if there were no parables to help the preacher focus on other aspects of Jesus’ teaching.  Can you imagine how insufferable worship would be, or at least the preaching part of it?  And, whether you believe it or not, you are a bit spoiled.  I preach the Gospel from the entirety of Scripture.  I have some colleagues who only preach the Gospel week in and week out.  They never preach the OT reading or the Psalm, and rarely do they delve into the Epistles.

     If you look up parable in a dictionary, you will read that it is a simple story used to illustrate a moral or spiritual truth.  So far, so good.  The problem, of course, is discerning the spiritual truth that God wants a congregation to hear on any given day.  Our challenge as preachers is bringing those teachings to life.  Many of us use sermon illustrations to do just that.  Some of us, like I just did, will pray for eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts to understand God fully today.  But, we all run into the same problem.  Are His illustrations understood today?

     Take today’s parables on the farmer.  If I asked the younger kids where milk or eggs or cheese come from, how many are likely to say Kroger or Publix?  We laugh, but we laugh because we know that we are disconnected from the agrarian roots of our country, even here in the South.  Travel to the northeast or the left coast, and there is an even greater loss of sense of farming.  How often do we hear people griping about the Midwest?  How many times have you, in Tennessee, wondered about the intricacies of farming?  Imagine how little most people pay attention in NYC?  Boston?  LA?

     I was fortunate in my last parish to have a farmer in orbit of my parish.  For those of you visiting fathers today, I like the idea of the solar system to explain how people relate to the parish.  Using my illustration, those who come all the time and who struggle to apply what they think Jesus was teaching are somewhere among the inner planets.  They come around a lot, not just for worship but for other activities.  Then there are people who come less often.  Perhaps those who come only on Christmas or Easter belong in those outer orbits like that Pluto or Neptune.  I have had people joke with me over the years that they were more like Haley’s comet than Pluto!  I find it funny, but then I’m a bit of a nerd.

     This gentleman would have been in the asteroid belt, at least in my mind.  In his, he was probably more in the Kuyper belt, just barely feeling the gravitational pull of God.  I considered him closer in orbit because he was quick to correct or even better explain my understanding of Jesus’ farming imagery.  He would read my sermons on the internet and then, if I had time and was willing, flesh out stuff better.  Given the number of agrarian images in the Bible, and my general love of learning, I’m sure you can understand how much I appreciated our talks.  He would also seek me out from time to time for help with certain decisions.  He would never call it pastoral counseling, but I sure would.  Those of you who have heard me share the story of the rattlesnakes and the hogs know a bit more about this guy.  Like those this week who do not come very often but felt called to give a sympathy gift for our parish fridge, this many would help financially with ministries that he valued.  As I was reflecting on sermon illustrations for this week on this passage, I was, quite understandably, reminded of my conversations with him on this passage likely nine years ago.

     Let me first say, I understand that some of the science and some of the application differs significantly between the modern American farmer and the ANE Hebrew farmer.  For example, in Jesus’ illustration, the farmer is using broadcast sowing.  We don’t do that much anymore except for scattering wildflowers.  But, as the author of Ecclesiastes often reminds us, there is nothing new under the sun.

     Have you ever considered how farming works today?  I mean, have you ever given any thought as to how the farmer goes about his or her business and why Jesus might use that to reach us today?  We have a lot of current or former business owners and executives, so many of us understand margins.  Margins are simply the difference between the cost of an item and the sale of that item.  In farming, it’s the cost of the raw materials for seeding subtracted from the money generated from the yield expressed in percentage.  Unfortunately for farmers, economy of size really matters.  Every four years politicians wring their hands in pretend sympathy over the loss of family farms.  The problem is that little can be done about it.  In order to increase the margin, one must acquire more and more land to farm.  Put in English, a 1 acre farm will lose money because planting will cost more than what will be yielded at harvest.  The same is true for most 10 acre farms.  At 100 acres, a farmer may be able to generate decent cash flow, but the margins will be in the single digits.  As the farms get bigger, the margins rise.  It has been a few years since I paid attention to the exact numbers—we care more about music and healthcare in Nashville than we do about corn and soybeans—but I don’t think margins ever get any higher than the upper 20%.  What makes farming so challenging economically?  I’m glad you asked.

     What happens in the beginning of farming in our advanced culture?  The farmer has to decide what to plant.  Will corn make more money this year or soybeans?  Does the farmer have the equipment to select another crop, or is the farmer trapped by past choices?  One cannot switch from planting 1000 acres of corn to tomatoes or strawberries just because the price is better.  Some farmers are super advanced.  They can take soil samples and send them off to labs so that experts can tell them what crop, and what variety of what crop, will thrive in their soil.  Of course, those labs will also tell the farmer what he or she needs to buy to make the soil more hospitable to the crop he or she would like to plant.  Just like the seed, the fertilizer and the nitrogen and the fungicide and whatever else is necessary costs money.  Up front money.

     Did I mention that the farmer needs specialized equipment to plow the field and to apply the needed chemicals?  You and I can handle our little backyard gardens, but imagine doing what we do for an acre.  For 10 acres.  For a 100 acres.  You should be moaning.  It is literally back breaking work.

     When do you plant?  Many of us pay attention to zones when it comes to our gardens.  Why is that?  That’s right.  We are trying to avoid killing frosts.  You and I are not necessarily as invested in our gardens as the farmer is in his or her farm, but we pay attention, don’t we?  What happens if we try to get a jump on the planting date?  A killing freeze invariably happens.  As inconvenient as a killing freeze is on our half dozen tomatoes, think what it must be like for the farmer whose livelihood is tied up in his or her crop.  We go back to Lowe’s or Home Depot or our favorite farmers’ market to buy replacement plants.  The farmer goes out of business.

     Once the date is chosen, and the type of seed, what happens next?  The farmer plants the seed.  How is that done today?  Yes, tractors.  But how do the farmers know the pattern to use?  Yes, some have done it that way for years, if not generations.  But, as with everything, there’s an app for that!  Nowadays, for a fee of course, farmers can use satellites and computers to figure out the sowing patters that will use every square inch of their dirt.  Some of those tractors can even be controlled by those satellites, assuming, of course, you had more money to buy the fancy model.

     Then what happens?  That’s right, the farmer waits.  Oh, sure, we understand photosynthesis and mitosis and phototropism and other scientific processes far better than the farmer in Jesus’ illustration . . . or do we?  That last one is the fancy jargon way of saying plants will grow toward the sun.  The further away a farmer is from the equator, the more important that process becomes in a farmer’s calculations!  Do we really understand what causes the growth?  Or do we trust simply that, if conditions are favorable, growth will happen?

     There’s another aspect to farming that Jesus does not mention explicitly in His illustration, but I am certain His audience would have heard it: the weather.  The weather, for the Hebrews, was meant to be a spiritual thermometer, of sorts.  God promised that, so long as they kept His covenant, He would send the rains.  If they failed to keep the covenant, they ran the risk of Him withholding those rains.  When we read in the OT about droughts and locusts and those kinds of activities, understand the Hebrews should have heard a spiritual evaluation. 

     The modern farmer is far too sophisticated for such nonsense.  Plus, we are not God’s chosen nation.  We are, nevertheless, still subject to the weather and natural disasters.  Right rainfall at the right time is crucial for crop growth, just as wrong rainfall at the wrong time can really hurt the plants.  Our big irrigation sprayers can protect against the weather, at least the dry weather, but that costs money in the form of equipment and diesel fuel (to run the pumps).  How does the farmer protect against locusts or other insects?  Ya, they don’t.  Speaking of which, how do farmers insure bees will pollinate their acreage?  A poorly kept secret side effect of all the chemicals we use today in farming is the lack of bees.  Colonies of bees have, for all practical purposes, been wiped out in parts of our country.  The good news if a farmer has money, of course, is that bee colonies can be rented to fertilize the crops.  But insects can take their toll, as can birds.  The guy back north of Davenport shared the story of a year right out of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds, when the crows did way more damage than the locusts, and did a better job of blotting out the son!

     What other natural disasters can influence farming?  Who said volcanoes?  Don’t laugh too much, I read an article this week about the lava threatening the livelihood of marijuana farmers in Hawaii.  No, I was thinking more along the lines of hail and tornadoes.  There’s a thing called lodging, I think it was, where the crops get beaten down by the wind or the hail.  It’s called lodging because the crop is lodged in the earth, I guess?  He couldn’t explain why the term was used, but he certainly understood its impact.  Remember those wonderful machines that we have been talking about, tractors and their attachments?  They have attachments for harvesting.  Not surprisingly, one harvester does not harvest all crops.  Many are specialized.  What happens if the corn is matted to the earth when the combine rolls through?  You guess it, it stays on the ground.  Corn is meant to be upright in stalks not flat along the ground.  So, the lodged crop does not get harvested.  Again, not a big deal for us working in our backyard garden plots.  What if you have an acre?  10 acres?  100 acres impacted by lodging?  Big deal, eh?

     One other natural disaster can hit farmers.  Where he farmed north of Davenport, it was not quite as big a risk.  When those big supercells with lots of cloud to ground lightning roll through, or when idiots done with the cigarettes toss them out the car window, a fire can be sparked.  If you have ever driven past farms, you’ll know there’s not an abundance of fire hydrants or fire stations, for that matter.  Fire during the dry seasons can destroy a good bit of crop before it is contained.

     No doubt I have bored you with all this risk to profit, but harvest is also an issue.  Know why the farmers wait as long as possible to harvest?  Do you know why farmers try to get the jump on the growing season and risk killing frosts?  When farmers harvest, they want there to be as little moisture content as possible.  The reason is economic.  I cannot remember for sure, but I think the farmer told me that ever 10% increase in moisture in the plants translates into an additional cost of a nickel when it comes to drying out a bushel.  Think how many bushels there are in those farms you drive by on I-24, I-65, or I-40.  As my kids would say, that’s a lot of nickels!  It makes sense, the crops are dried by heating, usually by means of natural gas.  Natural gas, as we all know, is not free!

     Now, think back on the life of the farmer.  He or she takes most of their remaining cash and invests or pledges it against the year’s harvest.  Out of those resources, he or she must purchase seed, fertilizer and other chemicals, rent or buy the necessary equipment for the jobs and the crops, run the irrigation pumps, purchase the pesticides and fungicides, not plant too early and not wait too late to harvest and run the risk of additional crop drying costs.  All of that is done betting on the harvest.  And as you have just learned, their control over their harvest is illusionary.  Mother nature can take her toll; thieves can take their toll.  And the farmer depends on the harvest to be big enough to cover the bank note and to generate living expenses for the next year.  There truly is nothing new under the sun.  The size and technology have changed, but the stresses of farming today are not all that different from the stresses of farming in Palestine in the days of Jesus.  Why, then, do you think Jesus uses this image in His parable?  What lesson or lessons, do you think, did Jesus have in mind when He related these images to His first disciples?  Why, do you think, did Jesus want this parable collected and studied by all disciples who came after?

     I think there are a number of lessons in the parable, such are their natures, but one that should jump out at us is the overarching life of a patient faith.  The farmer in Palestine or the Midwest of the United States buys seed, plants it, and then waits for the harvest.  The work of planting and the work of harvesting is incredibly hard, some would even say backbreaking.  But no matter the work of the farmer, no matter the strength of his or her back, no matter his or her endurance, success depends a lot on stuff outside his or her control.   During the growing season, both are subject to any number of threats.  There is little a farmer can do when faced with the threat of predation by wildlife or insects, even less when faced with the danger posed by weather.  Yet, year after year, season after season, the farmer goes through his appointed tasks, trusting, in the end, the crops will produce and he or she will survive another year.

     What is life like for us in the church?  Corporately, here at Advent, how do we function?  We gather in late November or early December, depending on the calendar, to discuss and approve our budget.  How many of us ever look at the numbers and start to worry?  What if a big giver dies?  What if the support or elimination of this ministry angers a big giver and serves as the excuse for them to leave?  Have the members of the Vestry really looked into cutting various expenses?  What if we tighten our belt, cut our staff pay, and the staff leaves?  What if we put off repairs to the physical plant or the rectory for another year?  I see the nods of agreement.  We are like farmers in that we have to trust the money will come in, just as the farmer trusts that the appropriate rains will come.

     Back to ministry for a moment.  What if a key person dies during the year?  What if the person who is providing a lot of the catalyzing energy in a particular ministry is called home by God over the next year?  What happens to that ministry?  If Barbara Jones had passed away before Parenting Adult Children was firmly established, are we certain that someone else would have stepped up?  Think of other ministries around here that are driven by force of will or commitment.  Are we certain Wrestling with Faith would survive Jim’s or Robert’s departure for the Great Wedding Feast?  Do we worry who will pick up the slack if Larry and Dale and Betty were no longer able to lead Room in the Inn?  Is anybody else as passionate about the Bible Project and Wednesday evening fellowship as Tina Tsui?  Who would do yardwork were we to lose Phocian, Stewart, or David?  Ever worry about getting enough volunteers for the Vestry?  What about your personal favorite ministry?  Do you worry about the loss of a key woman or key man?  Like the farmer, you and I know there are risks and challenges.  Like the farmer, we know there is a possibility of failure.  Yet, like the farmer, we know are called to trust in the midst of doubt or worry or stress, we are called to a patient faith.  Just as the farmer trusts most of his or her crop will survive to produce fruit, you and I trust that, so long as God has a purpose for Advent, our ministry will continue.  Our ministries may cease, but our ministry will continue.

     What of us as individuals?  There is a bit of gallows humor among famers, well, at least among some that I met during my time in the Midwest.  Often, when a moron like me was adding to their stress when asking about the what if’s, they’d eventually get to the “well, I’m fairly certain out of my x number of acres planted, enough will survive that I won’t starve this year.  I may be bankrupt, but I’ll have a full belly of corn.”  I suppose, unlike those who work desk jobs, farmers can figure failure means they eat instead of us all eating.  It’s a weird gallows humor, but it is certainly understandable.  It is among those farmers, too, though, that I heard their simple faith.  More than once a farmer, when asked by me how he or she deals with the threats to livelihood, responded “You’ve heard the saying ‘There are no atheists in foxholes,’ Father?  Well, there’s fewer in farmin’!”

     In the end, you and I are called by God to live a life of patient faith that is, all too often, better reflected in places other than the Church or a church.  Jesus’ illustration captures that innocent and simple faith but reminds us that the simple and innocent faith is not nearly as simple as we like to think.  Farmers maintain their belief in the next harvest despite their fear, despite the natural threats, and despite even the threats posed by politicians who, despite their woeful ignorance of the farming life, are tasked with regulation and policy.  None of us have thought about the problems caused by a bad boss or mid-level manager.  Imagine the threats our politicians’ ignorance pose to the farmer!  Despite all that, the farmer farms.

     In a chapter in Mark when seed and farming and bearing fruit looms large, you and I are called to remember in Whom we trust.  You and I gather here each week to remind ourselves of the saving works of God, to be nourished and encouraged to get back out there in the wilderness and keep cultivating, to be equipped with skills or knowledge that will make us better witnesses to His redeeming grace in our lives, and to trust, simply to trust, that nothing we do in His name and to His glory will fail.  Make no mistake, we may lose money or jobs, we may suffer all kinds of illnesses and injuries, and the acquiring of skills can be difficult, tedious, or seem downright pointless, but we are called by the God who specializes is redemption and Resurrection!  When the world judges our work a failure, even as it did when our Lord hung lifeless on that Cross or was placed on the preparation slab in the tomb, we know better.  We remember His death, we proclaim His resurrection, and we await His coming in glory!  They are not just empty words we mouth when we gather for worship, but reminders of the life of patient faith to which He calls us!  And knowing that, knowing that just as He redeemed Israel when it wrongly chose a king, we know He can redeem our mistakes.  And just as He raised our Lord Christ from death, we know that He can raise us!  And armed with that knowledge, that certainty, that faith, we head back out into the wilderness to do our own gardening—to plant the seed He has given us, to irrigate using the water with which He has supplied us, to manure in His name, to weed in His name, trusting all the while that, like the farmer in His parable, that He will provide what we need.  It is a simple call, to trust Him.  Ah, but living that call, living as if we truly believe and trust Him, that’s work--dirty, sweaty, challenging work, just like the work of the farmer and the work to which He calls you and me!

In Christ’s Peace,

Brian†

On Adulting and the Father . . .

     I had one of those really difficult weeks in sermon preparation.  I really felt called to preaching on what Karen and I call “Adulting” in our household.  As our children grow and we give them more freedom and more responsibility, ever notice how they go hand and hand in Scripture, we always talk that the end goal is adulting.  Like you, we want our children to grow up to be functioning adults and all that entails.

     One of the big lessons about adulting is that adult decisions have adult consequences.  When children are younger, they can make mistakes; and we, their parents, can make up for those mistakes.  Take a candy bar from the checkout aisle at age 6 or 8, and the store usually just makes the parent par for the consumed candy.  Take something at 18, and the legal system is much more likely to get involved, which means it’s much harder or costlier for the parents to help fix.  And in many cases, there’s not much we can do but love our kids and watch them suffer the consequences of their decisions or actions.

     The problem with adulting, I discerned this week, is that all my sermon illustrations would be about my family.  The first rule about homiletics resembles the first rule of fight club: you never talk about them!  You never talk about them.  The fishbowl of clergy kids is already small enough.  Some of you, by virtue of other conversations, learn about some of the things happening in my family.  But I am not unaware of the dangers of preaching about one’s family.  There are, of course, illustrations among you and your families.  Most of those, though, were told in the midst of pastoral counseling or confession or in other ways that I and you that shared consider “under the stole.”  In a week where society around us, as well as some Adventers, are dealing with depression or the effects of suicides after the high profile deaths of Ms. Spade and Mr. Bourdain, that would have been a natural.  But, some of us would rather not acknowledge our depression or family dysfunction, at least to everyone.  Yet, I am convinced that to be truly the family we claim to be in the parish hall, we need to learn to be able to listen and to speak about the deep, dark issues of our lives and the world around us.  Talk about a counter cultural place!  But that is a longer, subtler lesson.

     Back to our question of adulting.  More specifically, back to that problem of sermon illustrations.  I am going to have to depend upon you to fill in the illustrations from your lives.  As we talk this morning about how God parents us, I am hoping you will reflect on how your parents parented or parent you, and I am hoping that you will reflect on how you parent others.  That being said, if you look around, you will notice my horde is completely absent this morning.  The older three came to early church because of work or plans.  Karen and the younger three took Amanda to Hilton Head for Amanda’s job and to visit with Karen’s parents and the beach.  I see the chuckles.  Y’all know me.  What they don’t know won’t hurt them, right?

     I had a couple fun conversations this week about Eli.  Two Adventers, in particular, took issue with my assertion that Eli was more “complicated” than “evil.”  One went so far as to argue, at first, that because Eli would not correct his sons, he was clearly an evil failure.  That’s all fine and good, I suppose, were we not to really study Scripture.  As we chatted about what I thought was an oversimplification of Eli being evil and Samuel being good, we got to this passage.  Luckily for me, or maybe by the design of our lectionary editors, this was our next reading.  How does Scripture judge Samuel’s parenting?  You are old and your sons do not follow in your ways.  Ouch!  Sound familiar?  It should.  Apparently, Samuel is as an effective father figure as Eli, when it comes to raising sons who follow the Lord.

     Does Samuel take issue with the elders’ observation or evaluation?  No.  Is the evaluation of the elders what really gets Samuel’s gourd?  Nope.  What does?  Israel’s request for a king!  Seemingly, Samuel accepts their judgment.  He does not defend them, he does not argue.  Heck, he makes no promise that they will be better when he is gone, as some of us are apt to lie to ourselves when it comes to the behavior of ourselves or our children.  Instead, he focuses on their desire for a king as a rejection of God.

     A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, as we were reading Aristotle’s Politics.  That’s the book from which we get our definitions of types of government.  Who rules and for what purpose?  Monarch vs. Tyrant; Aristocracy vs. Oligarchy; Politea vs. Democracy—I see the shock on some faces.  Most of us thought democracies are good forms of government.  Aristotle thought them simply the least worst, but that’s a different discussion.  During our discussions on monarchy and tyranny, I had a professor point out the uniqueness of Israel’s kingship.  I must admit, I’ve never really pursued his claim.  At the time, I took it as a “look how smart we are” claim meant partly in jest and partly serious  In all my years in grad school and then seminary, the thought never really came up.  But as I was preparing for this week, it was one of those seeds that popped back in my mind.  As I reflected, I think that professor was mostly right.  How did kings get chosen throughout the ANE?  I’ll save you the guessing and remind you that throughout the Mediterranean basin, kingship was thought to be handed down from the gods.  Those of us of European stock should not be surprised.  After all, our ancestors championed the so-called “divine right” of kingship or queenship.  As I shared my struggle on this observation, though, with Adventers whose lineage came from places other than Europe, I was reminded that many, many cultures from all other the world justified their rulers by the idea that they had been anointed by the gods.

     Famous in Israel’s history would be the mythology surrounding Egypt’s rulers.  I am not an Egyptologist, so the specific details of my memory may be suspect, but artifacts from the second or third dynasty point to the belief that Horus chose the pharaoh.  At some point, once Ra became the creator god in the land, the authority of Pharaoh was derived or appointed by him.  To the east, the same happened in Babylon.  The god Marduk appointed the rulers of Babylon.  Think of your own knowledge of the Greek myths.  The rise and fall of individuals was attributed to favor or disfavor among the gods and goddesses on Olympus.  Many city states had their own patron deity, so the rise of their rulers was attributed to their specific patron.

     Israel is unique in that area because it is the people who want a king.  They look around and see that they are different.  Like every teenager that has ever lived, they want to be like everyone else.  They want to fit in.  What do they do?  They go to Samuel and ask him to give them a king.

     Before we talk of adulting, though, think of the request!  They have been freed from slavery under a king.  If any people should understand the consequences of kingship, it is Israel.  But how quickly do they forget.  And, although Samuel is upset at their request, God reminds him that it is God who is being rejected.  Israel’s king really is God.  It is God who provides their needs.  It is God who freed them.  It is God who fed and watered them.  It is God who planted them in the Land promised to their ancestors.  It is God who protects them or allows them to be chastened in warfare.  So many nations on the earth crave a theocracy.  Israel has it!  The right one.  The perfect one.  And they reject it.

     When I was younger, my grandmother used to warn me about prayers.  I remember when Garth Brook’s Unanswered Prayers was climbing the charts, she would chuckle and remind us that some of the scariest prayers are when God gives us what we think we want.  Usually, she said, there was a lesson about to be imparted, that we had no idea what was really good for us.  Israel bears that wisdom out in spades.

     What will they get from a king?  They will become enslaved again.  The king will take the best lands for grazing or growing crops or growing vines.  The king will take sons to fight in his armies.  The king will take daughters to work in his palaces and fields.  The king will take portions of their livestock and harvests to feed his aristocrats and commanders—you and I would call these taxes.  In all ways, according to God speaking through Samuel, they will become enslaved again.  Worse, when the realize it and cry out to God for help or freedom, He will ignore their plea for help. 

     How many times have we been told by our parents, You can do this or that, but I will not help you.  How many times have we told our own kids words to that affect?  If ever there was a more ominous warning, I cannot recall it.  Yet how little do we listen to our parents or do our children listen to us?  Should we be surprised when God’s children ignore Him?

     One illustration that popped into my head this week as I was struggling with that part of the sermon was Robbie’s fascination with outlets—most of you all know this and he heard it at the early service, so it is not a secret I am divulging, though Robbie did joke about me claiming his fascination was in the past, rather than present, tense.  Robbie was the child who was fascinated by outlets.  I cannot recall how many times he first heard a jolting “no!” when he tried to stick a finger in one.  Eventually, we moved to slapping his hands away.  Given his stubbornness, we probably tried other deterrents, but in the end, it became clear that the dangers of outlets were like driving a stick shift—they needed to be learned experientially.

     Perhaps some of you have had a child like this.  The hope was that the shock would cause his to lose his fascination.  Predictably, the first time he stuck his finger in, he ran to mom for safety and hugs and kisses.  It shocked him.  Robbie being Robbie, though, he decided to experiment more with them.  Legos and Lincoln logs did nothing, other toys allowed him to be shocked.  It was only when he tried a coin that we realized we were not getting through to him.  For whatever reason, he did not let the pain deter him.  Had we not been watching when he put the coin in, he may have burned down the house or severely injured himself—the scorch marks on the hallway outlet are still evident today.

     You all are laughing, and I am glad that Robbie was, too.  But such situations point out the wholly and holy otherness of God on a day when we celebrate Fathers intentionally.  What consequence do you think would have deterred Robbie?  This is not rhetorical, what would you have done?  Yes, we tried slapping.  No, we did not go to full on spanking.  No we did not try a belt.  Yes, we tried grounding.  Yes, we tried taking away the dangerous toys.  Which, do you all think now, would have deterred Robbie?  You all have known him for three years, and you see the difficulty.  Hard to know, isn’t it?  The threats of spanking and belts sound good, but the zap of a shock did little to quell his disobedience.  As he joked a bit self-deprecatingly this morning, probably nothing.  Our parental wisdom, and the consequences of the world, were unable to change his determination, at least as of 8:30am today.  lol

     Keep in mind, too, Karen and I are “good” parents and Robbie is a “good” kid by modern standards.  Karen and I are not abusive, we try to teach our children that they are loved deeply by God, and that they will live in a world that has consequences for actions and choices—so they better make the right ones.  Robbie is curious about things.  Sometimes, like you or your kids, though, being told is not enough.  Sometimes, he wants to find out the why or the how.  Sometimes, he feels a need to re-invent the wheel.  How much more difficult is this maturation in households with abusive parents or willful children?

     Look again at our story from Samuel this morning.  God acted lovingly toward His son Israel.  He freed Israel from an oppressive and threatening king.  Their Father in heaven provided them with everything they needed—food, water, meet, security, protection, to name a few.  Did Israel accept their privileged place?  Did they embrace the role their loving Father had in mind for them?  Did they trust He wanted what was best for them?  No.  Like a petulant teenager they complained they were different.  They cried out that the wanted to be like everyone else.  And so they gave up their unique status in the world.

     Before God limited Himself in their life, before He chose to take a visible step back in their day to day life, God told them the consequences.  They wanted to be like everyone else, and that’s exactly what they would get.  They would lose their freedom and be enslaved.  Everything He told them would happen through the mouth of Samuel came to pass.  Read Chronicles or Kings.  Beginning with Solomon, and with only a couple exceptions, each king of Israel did more abominations than his predecessor.  Having been given God’s wisdom and knowledge of His love, each king chose his own way rather than obey God.  And God’s people suffered for it.

     True to His word, God did not answer their pleas.  When they cried out in pain and despair, God refused to answer their cries in the way they wanted and thought they needed.  When enemies were about to overrun them, God refused to rescue them.  God allowed His children to experience the folly of their choice.

     Unlike us modern fathers (and even mothers) who cannot figure how to reach the children in our lives, though, God knew what He was doing.  More amazingly, because of that wholly and holy otherness, He could still accomplish His will.  Though Israel’s selection of a king was a rejection of Him and His rule, He never stopped loving His children.  Though He had every reason to reject them because of their rejection and the hurt they caused Him, still He was faithful.  And, yet again, He used Israel’s evil choice for good!  Ultimately, that kingship which should have offended Him was the lineage that provided for the birth of His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord!  That failed, corrupt, and sinful kingship led eventually to the King!  The Holy, Righteous, Obedient King!  Perhaps, on this day we should be a bit less surprised that God’s King, His Son, was ultimately rejected by us.  Every time we chase money or power or reputation or whatever else in our lives rather than pursue Him, we are no different than our predecessors.  We are rejecting Him.  Thankfully and mercifully, He is still the same, wooing us, caring for us, redeeming us, and even using what we meant for evil for good!

     So, on this day when we remember the father’s in our lives, those who were biological and those who were by the countless ways described in the collect, and even those whom we see no longer, let us not forget that they, like we, were mere types and shadows, arrows, if you will, whose primary job was to point us and others to the Father, who makes no mistakes, who always has an abundance, and who loves us more than anyone else in the world!  Better still, such is His power that He can take our mistakes and our evil choices and use them for our good and the good of those around us!  It is that Father who is at work in each of us, lovingly transforming us into the princes and princesses in His kingdom, capable of representing Him to a world who has forgotten Him!

Peace,

Brian†