As most of you know, I dearly love gadgets. One of my latest gadgets is an Android smartphone. It can’t yet wash the dishes, but it can do almost everything else.

One of its coolest apps (applications) is “Google Sky.” With it, you can point your phone towards any part of the night sky, and the app will give you a map of and the names of the constellations and planets in that part of the sky.

A couple of weeks ago, I noticed a stunningly bright star. I knew that it most likely was not a star at all, but a planet. I pulled out my smartphone, started up “Google Sky,” and pointed my phone toward the star. Turns out that it was not one planet but two planets conjoined, Jupiter and Saturn.

This got me to thinking about the Star of Bethlehem. I knew there were all sorts of astronomical theories as to the identity of that star. I wondered if a conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn might be a possibility. So (what else?) I Googled it. Turns out, a conjunction of those two planets is not really a favored possibility. There seems to be a lot of support for the theory that the Bethlehem star was a conjunction of Jupiter and Venus.

The more I thought about all this, I just couldn’t get smartphones and the Wise Men out of my head. No doubt, we human beings are pretty smart to come up with all these fancy gadgets! It’s because we human beings, like the Wise Men of old, are naturally curious creatures who want to figure things out. Our scientific, technological progress shows us that we are pretty good at it. Unfortunately, we also can be pretty dumb. Wars and the state of human relations in our world reveal that.

Jeff Hull writes about his great aunt, called Momma J. At 96, she was the last of her generation. As the family was gathered at her sister's funeral, a cousin remarked to Jeff that they were soon to be moving into the family's oldest generation. Jeff looked at his cousin and said plaintively, "But, Mary, I don't feel like I know the answers yet."

After everyone had a good laugh, Mary turned to Momma J. and said, "When does that change, Momma?"

Momma J., from her wheelchair, smiled up and said, "I don't know YET, dear."

The scriptures are clear that we don’t have it all figured out. The Apostle Paul said, “We look through a glass darkly.” We are still searching. Like the Wise Men of old, our search has led us to Bethlehem.

 
©2010 C. David Hess

On July 14 through 16, the three West Henrietta churches will be having a “tent meeting.” We are going to set up a tent on the vacant lot across from our church. Services will begin each evening at 7 p.m. Food (hot dogs), drink, and fellowship will be available at 6 p.m. Special music will be presented each evening by singers from the three churches. The three pastors will take turns preaching.

Tent meetings or tent revivals bring forth all kinds of images. One of my favorite is of the old outdoor preacher who was hooping and hollering out one of his fiery sermons. At one point, he took in a particularly big gulp of air and, along with it, some kind of flying insect. He proceeded to choke and cough and hack. The site was so comical that the congregation couldn’t suppress the urge to laugh. When the preacher finally caught his breath and his composure, he declared: “At least I was biblical. I saw a stranger and I took him in.”

While tent revivals are no longer commonplace, they have certain advantages. First and foremost, they occur on neutral ground. They are neutral, not only in the sense that the services are not held in one particular church building, but they neutral in the sense that they are not held in a church building at all. Tents are open spaces. They are easy to get into and easy to get out of. No one feels like they are making a commitment to stay when they enter them. It is neutral ground between the church and the world. All are welcome. All are free to come and go as they wish.  

By definition, tents are temporary structures. They aren’t tied to any one place. They move about. Thus they are fitting to our lives, which are also temporary and fluid. 

When the children of Israel were wandering in the wilderness, on their way from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land, God instructed them to build a tabernacle, a tent. It would be a place of worship. It would be a sign of God’s presence, a sign that He would be with them wherever they journeyed.

John begins his gospel by saying, “In the beginning was the Word, and Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God; all things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made.”  John ultimately reached the climax: “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”

Scholars point out that the word “dwelt” indicates a temporary dwelling---like the Tabernacle of Israel’s wilderness wanderings. It might best be translated “And the Word pitched a tent among us.” So he has. 

I hope to see you and your friends in the tent.


©2010 C. David Hess

Of course, Finney was influenced by another. To be a member of the church is to be influenced by a legacy of giving. Ralph Waldo Emerson made the observation: "An institution is the lengthened shadow of one man." The institutional church is the lengthened shadow of one Man -- Jesus Christ who gave Himself for us all.

©2010 C. David Hess

One of the most religious experiences I had during the holiday season was watching the film, “Letting Go of God” on Showtime (watch  a 17 minute video clip). The film is a one woman show by Julia Sweeney in which she describes her long pilgrimage from being happily raised in a strong Catholic family to her becoming an atheist. Her sharing was always thoughtful, moving, and even funny. When she told her mother she could no longer believe in the existence of God, her mother asked, “Are you telling me that you are no longer going to church?” At another point her mother told her that it was okay for her to believe whatever she wanted, but asked if she had to tell everyone about it? 

The most striking moment in the film was when she addressed God near the show’s end: “It’s because I take you so seriously that I can’t bring myself to believe in you. It’s a sign of respect.” 

Ironically, the one thing that comes through in her monologue is how seriously she takes God. I know a lot of people who “believe” in God who don’t take Him nearly as seriously. They believe in the existence of God but never give any serious though to what that belief means or should mean in their lives.  

Lord Alfred Tennyson wrote: “There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds.” 

Ms. Sweeney also has a healthy sense of mystery. She confesses that she still wonders at the awesome question of why there is something and not nothing. This awe in the face of mystery is not far from God. This sense of mystery is something that far too often we Christians jettison. We give the impression we have everything figured out, that we don’t see “through a glass darkly” (I Corinthians 13:12) 

Maybe sometime we can look at this film together, so that we can be better able to share our own pilgrimages and give a reason for the hope that is in us. (I Peter 3:15)


 ©2009 C. David Hess

Friday was such a nice day that I decided to do some work in my backyard. Job number one was to fill in some holes that my Keeshond, Buster, had dug over the window. I went to Walmart and got 3 big bags of dirt and some grass seed. I came home, put Buster in the house, and proceeded with the repairs. I filled about 7 or 8 big holes and spread the grass seed.

My next door neighbor saw what I was doing and asked, “You don’t really think that’s going to do any good, do you?”

I muttered something about “living in hope” and finished the job.

Sure enough, within two hours after I had put him back out in the yard, Buster had re-dug every single hole. I had fanciful thoughts of re-filling them and telling him that if he ever dug another hole, I was going to put him in it. I knew, of course, that he wouldn’t understand, and that I would be bluffing. Even if I weren’t, he would probably still dig. Such is the force of habit. 

Of course, I already knew that. I remember being a dinner guest in a church member’s home years ago. At the end of the meal, I arose and, without thinking, put a dollar bill on the table. The lady of the house exclaimed, “What are you doing?” 

What indeed? I was so used to eating in restaurants and leaving a tip at the end of the meal I was just following the engrained habit.  

Habits are powerful things, both the positive ones and the negative ones. Scripture says, “Let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more, as you see the day drawing near.     (Hebrews 10:19-25)


©2009 C. David Hess

Last fall I read an article about a woman in the Adirondacks who had found a monarch butterfly with a broken wing. Rather than let it die, Jeannette Brandt emptied her water bottle and placed the butterfly in it. When she got it home, she and her partner, Mike Parwana, began nursing the butterfly with rotting pears and honey mixed with water.

As the butterfly grew stronger, they turned to the Internet and Googled “fixing a broken butterfly wing.” They found a website with a 9 minute video that demonstrated how to do it. Following the instructions, they held their butterfly still while they brushed its wing with contact cement. Then they applied shreds of cardboard as a splint. The butterfly was still weak. They worried that the cardboard splint was too heavy. After a week, as the butterfly fattened up on honey and pears, it began to flap around the house. They worried that their cat would get it, but it escaped that fate.

The time came that the butterfly was healthy enough to set free, but the weather had turned too cool. So they made their way to a nearby truck stop where they found a trucker who agreed to carry a small box south.

A few days later, the trucker called them. Their butterfly was loose in Florida, free to join tens of millions of other monarchs making their winter migration to Mexico.

Who could not be touched by such a story of two human beings condescending to give such extreme care to a wounded insect? It reminded me of another story of a God who would go to such extremes to save the small creatures inhabiting a speck of dust in the Universe we call earth, a God who would send His Son to the cross for them.


©2009 C. David Hess

We have been inundated recently with stories of greedy Wall Street bank executives who have paid themselves richly while their institutions lost billions and their employees were fired. There seems to be no more despised member of society today than rich bank CEOs. That’s why we are surprised by the story of the generous banker. It’s kind of a “man bites dog” story.

The generous banker is Leonard Abess, Jr., who recently sold a majority stake in Miami-based City National Bancshares. He took $60 million dollars of the proceeds and split it between all 399 bank employees, including tellers, bookkeepers, and clerks. He even tracked down 72 former employees and gave them a share.

His father, Leonard L. Abess, founded the bank in 1946. Abess Jr. was first employed in the bank’s print shop, which made documents and forms. He worked his way up from there. Along the way, he gained appreciation for the role that employees paid in the bank’s success.

He said, “I saw that if the president doesn’t come to work, it’s not a big deal, but if the tellers don’t show up, it’s a serious problem.”

When he received the huge purchase price for his shares in the bank, it didn’t seem right to him that his employees would receive nothing, particularly considering that many had recently lost large amounts in their 401(k) plans due to the recent fall in the stock market.

We know the world has its Bernie Madoffs. It’s nice to know that the world also has generous people like Leonard Abess, who recognize the value of the contribution of the average person.

I rejoice every day that I am surrounded by generous people who contribute to the kingdom of God in little and not so little ways. That is how the kingdom is built and always will be.


©2009 C. David Hess

No matter one’s political affiliation or racial identity, it would be difficult to not be moved by the inauguration of Barack Obama as the first African American President of the United States on the day following  Martin Luther King Day.  

Early that day, I saw an interview of former Secretary of State and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Colin Powell. He pointed out that when he began his military service he was a second class citizen. He recounted that when he was traveling to Fort Benning, Georgia that there was only one motel south of Baltimore in which he was permitted to stay the night. 

I couldn’t help but think of Rosa Parks and “mustard seeds.” If Rosa Parks had not refused to give up her seat on the bus, it is doubtful that a black man would have been inaugurated the 44th President of the United States. Of course, she had no idea what the ultimate result of her action would be. She might have thought her act  to be futile or of little significance.. That’s how it often is with mustard seeds. The seed seems so small and insignificant, but it is from such that the Kingdom of God springs. 

Jesus said, "What is the kingdom of God like, and to what shall I liken it? It is like a grain of mustard seed, which a man took and cast into his own garden; and it grew and became a large tree, and the birds of the air dwelt in its branches.  

Keep that in mind, the next time you are tempted to perform an act of faith, thinking that it won’t matter. One can never see the future or how God might use your mustard seed faith.  

As the rapper Jay-Z put it, “"Rosa Parks sat so Martin Luther King could walk. Martin Luther King walked so Obama could run. Obama ran so we can all fly."

Go plant those mustard seeds!


©2009 C. David Hess

As many of you know, my almost 13 year old Keeshond, Teddy, died in August. Many of you have met the new “replacement,” Buster.I always find “puppyhood” a shock. All of the commands that worked so well and effortlessly with Teddy have no effect on Buster (at least at first). It was never a problem to leave Teddy unattended in the house. I’m always fearful at what I might find when I leave Buster alone even for a short period.

Of course, some things about “puppyhoods” are really cool. Last week, I happened to look out into my backyard and saw a beautiful snowfall. Huge flakes were floating to the ground. Buster was even more delighted. He was running as fast as he could, jumping as high and as often as he could, catching as many flakes as he could. It was one of the funniest things I have ever scene. It was a joy to see a first snowfall though a puppy’s eyes.

This is one of the joys parents, grandparents, and all adults have in witnessing Christmas through a child’s eyes. There is an innocence and freshness, and that innocence and freshness somehow enters into us too.

This is also what we feel when we gaze upon the Christ child. It helps us to begin to understand Jesus’ words, “Whoever does not receive the Kingdom of God like a child will never enter it.”

It is akin to the magic I feel when I contemplate the words of one of the carols (by Sabine Baring-Gould) our choir will be singing during the Christmas season:

Sing lullaby!
Lullaby baby, now reclining,
sing lullaby!
Hush, do not wake the infant King.
Angels are watching, stars are shining
over the place where He is lying:
sing lullaby!

Sing lullaby!
Lullaby baby, now a-sleeping,
sing lullaby!
Hush, do not wake the infant King.
Soon will come sorrow with the morning,
soon will come bitter grief and weeping:
sing lullaby!

Sing lullaby!
Lullaby baby, now a-dozing,
sing lullaby!
Hush, do not wake the infant King.
Soon comes the cross, the nails, the piercing,
then in the grave at last reposing;
sing lullaby!

Sing lullaby!
Lullaby! is the babe awaking?
Sing lullaby!
Hush, do not stir the infant King.
Dreaming of Easter, gladsome morning.
conquering death, its bondage breaking:
sing lullaby!


©2009 C. David Hess

A recent poll found that a record number of Americans (89%) think that our country is on the wrong track. Considering the bad economic news and the state of world affairs, this is no surprise. What is surprising is that 7% of those polled think that our country is on the right track! Who are these people? How can they hold such a position? Are they just blind optimists who are completely out of touch with reality? I read an article (whose author I can’t recall) who remarked that these may be people who recognize that things could be a whole lot worse. Or to put it another way, maybe these are people who still know how to be thankful and count their blessings.

 There is a lesson here for all of us as we approach the Thanksgiving season. I believe God calls us to engage reality with grateful spirits.

 Sometimes we are tempted to flee reality and escape into denial. Such denial may make us feel better for a time, but refusing to face or deal with our problems is a prescription for disaster. 

 Sometimes we are so in touch with our problems that they are the only things we can see. All we do is complain and gripe, and there is not an ounce of gratitude in us.

 It is important for us to face our difficulties head on. During these times of trial, it is also important for us to count our blessings, and “name them one by one.” When we do so it puts us in touch with our resources, with those things that we have going for us, those things we will need to overcome our difficulties.

 Scripture tells, “In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.” It is most important to do so when things are on the wrong track.


©2008 C. David Hess