When God sends a Saint

I lost someone precious to me recently. Actually, many of us within the Church lost someone precious. Erland Waltner died at the age of 94 on Easter Sunday.

Erland had been a pastor since 1935. He then became a Bible professor and President of Mennonite Biblical Seminary from 1958-1978. He then continued as part-time faculty from 1978-1998 and continued to offer spiritual direction until a week before his death.
He had doctorate degrees etc…

But what I remember him for is as my spiritual director for a couple of years while I was in seminary at AMBS here in Elkhart. He was one of the most faith-filled men I have ever known. He was never full of himself or boastful. He was gentle and patient and witty and funny. He taught me a lot about discerning the Spirit, about prayer, about faithfulness, about perseverance... He was a cheerleader to young, green seminarians like me.

He called me in Frankfort when I was first appointed there after graduating from seminary. He called me at New Salem to see how things were. He knew I was at Bethel and had told me he was praying for me there.

He and I corresponded via email for a time until his eye sight got too bad (macular degeneration) and he became legally blind. His mind stayed sharp till the end though. After that he or I would call off and on. We would talk about ministry, life, aging… I would see him at seminary sometimes when I went to the library or attended chapel

The past few years have been rough on him and his wife Winifred but when I would talk with him, he still praised God for His goodness and it was not faked. He never denied the storms and the pain, but his faith was stronger. I loved him. I believe he knew that even though I never told him in so many words.

I rejoice because he is Home and Easter is a good day to go Home but I feel like crying – am crying – because I will miss him.

It is interesting how you realize when your life comes in contact with a saint.

Hunger

I went to a briefing on hunger this past week. This was a gathering of church folks mostly, organized by United Way. The intent was to talk about the face of hunger in our community and talk about the available sources of support and what we can do to help. With the recession, more and more people are affected. The Salvation Army captain said that some of the people who used to give to the Salvation Army are now some of the ones receiving help. The irony of this is that we met at Das Dutchman Essenhaus in Middlebury over breakfast! We ate our scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, sausage and sweet rolls while talking about hungry people. I did not eat much. My breakfast did not go down well that morning.
The other irony I thought about is that I am, let say, pleasantly plump. I work out at the Y several times a week to try to slow down the passage of time and the hold that gravity has gotten on me and tone everything up. I also work out because doing so clears my head and relaxes me and I am hopefully a nicer, calmer person because I do this. While I do that, some in this world starve to death. One could get real cynical here. This world has enough ills and suffering in it. Getting cynical and sarcastic would be really easy. I choose not to go that route.
Instead, I find myself giving thanks for the fact that I am healthy, that I have plenty of food, the fact that I am loved and I am also reminded and encouraged greatly to find ways to help those who have less than I do. Starving myself will not help these folks get food but out of my wealth and blessings I can give and for that I find myself very grateful. Life is a great gift not to be wasted but to be lived to the full and I don’t believe that can happen without love, serving others and sharing.
The gathering of representatives for about 50 local churches is a miracle, one of the speakers pointed out. Together we can find solutions. Feed the hungry and clothe the naked are some of the things Jesus admonished us to do (Matthew 25). What I also want to do is find ways of dealing with the system which allows such things to happen. Nobody in the world should go hungry but to hear of hunger in America, the richest country in the world, is crazy. So I want to find effective ways of helping. I can’t feed everybody on my own but God has a way of multiplying a little food (remember the story of the feeding of the multitude with just a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish?) into a lot if we all work together. I want to be part of that! I hope you join me! One way is to fill up a grocery bag on May 9 and leave it by your mailbox for the mail carrier to pick up. There will be volunteer opportunities that day. You will hear more about it soon.

Punching Holes in the Darkness

Can you wear out a CD by playing it over and over again? There are a couples of songs from the group Casting Crowns' Christmas album that I have played over and over in my car as I am driving here and there. "I heard the bells on Christmas day" is one of them. Check out the video. It is not a new song. Henry W. Longfellow wrote the words after a series of absolutely heart-crushing losses.
Casting Crowns version has touched me at a level that I can't quite put into words. The kind of words, the kind of music which make me feel like singing along at the top of my lungs and drop down on my knees at the same time. The part that says "God is not dead, nor does He sleeps" sends good chills down my spine. A breath of fresh air in my lungs. Do you understand that?
Well, I sang my heart out in the car and I had a ball. Did not care a bit what people might think as I am driving by. I am worshipping and I worship best when I sing.

To me these songs capture what we are celebrating this season of Christmas, but not only this season, I hope, but all year long: The answer to the deepest longing of the human heart; A piercing light in the darkness of this crazy world; A light which lights the most broken corners of our souls... A light that reminds us that we are not alone. Jesus!

This has been an incredible month of Advent/Christmas. I had the priviledge of sitting with people as they died; to sit with the families as they mourned; to officiate at a celebration of life for a former parishioner... There is something incrediby precious and humbling about being allowed in at these times.




God is with us. God is for us. God is in us. Emmanuel! That's the other song I have worshipped with these past few weeks.
I sat and worshipped at a longest night/blue Christmas service offered by a local church just a few days ago. I talked with a couple of people I had never met before the service and they opened up some about what brought them there. We were all linked by losses but in the midst of our pain we wanted to trust/we trusted deep down that there is hope. THERE IS HOPE! God is with us. God is for us. God is in us. Emmanuel!

Our service at the church that I serve was wonderful last night. We are small. We don't have the bells and whistles of other bigger congregations but it did not matter. The service was beautiful in its simplicity. The words of the greatest story ever told resonated in our hearts. The tunes of familiar carols echoed in the sanctuary. We were on holy ground. Our faces glowed by candlelight.

I attended another service at the church my grandmother Dorothy attended when she was alive; the church where I heard Jesus calling me and where I responded in fear and trepidation not knowing what was in store (God knew to give me just enough at a time or I would have ran the other way more than likely); the church where a beloved mentor and friend is serviing. It is a much bigger church and their last evening service was wonderful too. We shared bread and juice. The act of coming forth and holding my hand out to receive the elements as I watch the servers' faces always touches me in a deep place. The taste and texture of the bread and the sweetness of the juice combine on my tongue and remind me that Jesus gave his life for me and he keeps giving me Life. God is with us. God is for us. God is in us. Emmanuel!
As we lit our small candles for candlelight, my pastor friend reminded us that we are not only doing this because it is pretty - And it is beautiful whether 80 people are present or 500 - but we do this as a symbol of the light of Jesus coming to punch holes in the darkness.
I thought, YES! But we are the bearers of Jesus' light. Let's not stop at candles in a sanctury, OK? Let US BE the light of the world. Let the light God has placed in us burst forth out of us in the way we live; the way we love; the way we serve; the way we die!

Maybe this is as simple sometimes as visiting folks. I was tired before our worship service yesterday. I told myself I was going to rest all afternoon after being in the church office in the morning making sure things were ready for the evening and the following Sunday. Instead I found myself trying to get one more thing in. Frankly my heart was not really in it at the beginning.
I visited an elderly couple who are members of our church and shut-ins. Had a fruit basket put together by our missions women for them. They don't have much. Tiny house. Simple folks. We shared communion. My sense of tiredness started to lift from witnessing their sense of contentment despite a lot of health issues and meager resources; their gratitude at being alive despite their struggles overwhelmed me.

My last visit of the day was with an 84 year old man, a friend of my Dad's for the last almost 60 years. A former American GI who landed on the beaches of Normandy. He retired out west but is now back in town to be closer to family. Has a hard time adapting to his new surrounding at a local nursing home. I've known of him since I was 8. He never married. Has no kids. Used to teach German and French at a local military academy before retiring. As I talked with him, his mood lifted. We shared a chocolate from the package I had brought. Good chocolate not the cheap stuff. Savored it. Made it last on our tongue as we reminisced of better times for him. As I was ready to leave after a long talk, he started choking up and his eyes welled up. He held my hand as if he were not going to let it go. Said that his day was finishing better than it had started because of the visit.
A little light in the darkness. God is with us. God is for us. God is in us. Emmanuel!