First Draft

 OK, I don't do this very often, if ever. But here's a FIRST DRAFT... for those of you who like to edit... or to even question or criticize... here's your chance. I'm not sure if this is a prayer or a sermon. It started as a prayer to follow the sermon for next week, Reign of Christ Sunday. It started, too, partially as personal reflections in response to the last chapter of Gary Neal Hansen's Kneeling With Giants (chapter 10, "Praying with Andrew Murray"), particularly the "three giant leaps" which constitute the foundation of prayer: (1) a core commitment to holiness (being set apart by God to live in total devotion to God as a wholly consecrated vessel), (2) abide in Christ, (3) joined with Christ, take up his priestly ministry of intercessory prayer. This foundation, it seems, is not only a foundation of prayer, but of discipleship. Henri Nouwen says prayer is the "only necessary thing" and the Heidelberg Catechism says prayer is the most important way we demonstrate our thankfulness to God. So what comes first, discipleship or prayer? It seems they are inseparable. Anyway, that's a long introduction to a prayer, or a sermon clothed in a prayer. Hopefully not a rant, particularly in the area of the Sabbath. One final note, if you're interested, the outline is basically the ten commandments (mostly based on the Heidelberg Catechism's exposition) in reverse order, with the first three commandments combined as a final paragraph. Comments welcome. Peace of Christ to you all.    

 

Lord Jesus, Let your Spirit live in me, and fill me. I want to, I will…. Yes, I do yield by whole being to your rule and leading… O Lord Jesus, teach me by your Holy Spirit to truly pray in your name.

Our Father in heaven, we humbly pray; help us to follow Jesus, to stay close to Jesus, to live in our oneness with Christ and with each other. Through the power of the Spirit, help us to live as you have commanded. Indeed, we pray that not even the slightest notion or craving contrary to any one of your commandments should ever arise in our hearts.

·    Judge our tendency to bend the truth for our own purposes, our inclination to twist words, to gossip, to prejudge; instead, fill us with a love for the truth.

·    Judge our desire to finagle and manipulate so that we end up with a really good deal for ourselves; fill us with a sincere love of neighbor to such a radical degree that we always seek the other person’s good first and foremost without regard to our own interests.

·    Judge our lack of purity and unchasteness in all its forms—actions, looks, talks, thoughts, or desires; fill us with a love of light and beauty, of pure and virtuous living.

·    Judge our hidden, hideous murderous lives—our envy and vindictiveness, those times we are full of hate or anger or just plain mean…  And in your mercy and for our own well-being, fill us, instead, with patience, peace, gentleness, and mercy—with love for our brothers and sisters, our neighbors and even our enemies. Help us to forgive others as we have been forgiven.  

·    Judge me, Father, when I strive for greatness; Save us, O God, from the desire to be first; Transform your people into the image of Christ—who humbled himself and gave himself up for us—and so help us seek first to be last; to strive to be servants to all; to honor and encourage those in authority, to offer up prayers of thanksgiving and intercession for our civil and church leaders, and to be patient with their failings.

·    Judge our tendency to forget the Sabbath, much less to keep it holy;  In your mercy, grant to us a passionate desire to be filled with the Holy Spirit—burn off any contrary desires. So often we find reasons not to spend time together as your people, so often our behavior belies impatience—even contempt—for the importance of learning what the Word teaches. Do we even blaspheme the Spirit in the way we sometimes pooh-pooh the mysteries of the sacraments? Do we EVER experience the same emotion, the same FIRE in our desire to be IN you and learn of you… as we do when our worship service is too traditional, too contemporary, too serious, too flippant, too short, or seven minutes too long? Father in heaven, judge our misplaced desires and passions. Light a fire in our souls—a fire for poor and hungry souls, a fire for the mission and ministry of this church, a desire for more prayer, more worship, more opportunities to bring an offering.

·    Judge our tendency to misuse your name; judge our idolatries; judge our inventions and invocations of those gods we foolishly think we can trust in place of, or alongside of, you—the only true God—self-revealed in the Word; judge our propensity to go our own way, to do our own thing, to trust in ourselves; fill us with reverence and awe, with faith, hope and love. Dear Father in heaven, by Christ's Spirit, fill me with a tenacious and focused desire to trust in you alone; to look to you humbly and patiently for everything needful; to love, fear, and honor you, O God, with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength. Judge my life--burn it all away so that nothing remains save Christ in my life and my life in Christ. 

Praying during Ramadan

Ramadan, the Islamic holy month of fasting, begins for Muslims in the U.S. today. During Ramadan, Muslims fast (no food or drink) from dawn to sunset. This is challenging under the best of circumstances, but even more difficult considering the heat wave that most of the United States is facing right now.  Join me in praying for those who are practicing the spiritual disciplines of fasting and prayer for the next 30 days.

  

…Christians should always expect, not only to teach, but also to learn in their encounters with adherents of other religions. Yet we often find it very difficult both to teach and to learn. Sometimes we become so driven to challenge people with the gospel and to call them to repentance that we fail to see the remarkable ways in which the Holy Spirit is already at work in their lives and even in aspects of their religious heritage. The result is a self-righteous posture that does little to commend the gospel winsomely…. We have a wonderful gift to offer in the life-giving power of the gospel. But we can also learn from other religions. The artistry of faithful witness is to learn how to do both together.

(From “The Crucified One is Lord: Confessing the Uniqueness of Christ in a Pluralistic World” approved by the General Synod of the Reformed Church in America in 2000)

Accelerating Through the Curve

My daughter Elyse passed driver’s education with flying colors last summer and recently earned her driver’s license. She’s already taken her first road trip to Mankato—shopping (naturally), with a girlfriend (naturally)—including supper at Panera and dessert at the new frozen yogurt shop. Anyway, after teaching her the finer points of parallel parking the morning before her driving test I got to thinking of some of my own driver’s ed. experiences.

By the way, Elyse could not have had a better parallel parking teacher. A few years ago I met another pastor for lunch at Dino’s Gourmet Pizzeria in North Mankato—this is the place where Luke and I created a pizza which would eventually be named “The Luker” and become the featured pizza on their menu in June of 2009. (Italian sausage, pepperoni, black olive, mushroom, and fresh basil, if you must know. But I digress.) There’s parallel parking out front and when I arrived a few minutes before noon there was just one tight spot left. I eased in with the subtleness of a Seve Ballesteros chip shot landing inches from the cup on a fast green. The other pastor happened to be sitting at the window and was, to put it mildly, quite impressed. In awe, even. It was almost as if he felt privileged to see such a feat. “Wow, I should buy you lunch,” he said. Or something like that.

I was ineligible for driver’s education the summer after my freshmen year (when most of the guys took it) because, being one of the youngest in my class I didn’t turn 15 until June 14. I’d been driving with a “learner’s permit” since age 14 and driving tractors and manual transmission pick-up trucks on the farm since I was eight. Finally, the summer after my sophomore year, I would take Driver’s Education. And it wouldn’t end until sometime in July—I wouldn’t get my real license until like eons after my birthday. Life was unfair. This class was long overdue, belated, and anticlimactic.

Elyse tells me that all the boys in school are afraid of me. “Good” is my standard reply. And I wonder: Is it because I’m 6’4” and played defensive tackle in high school? Is it because I’m a pastor? Or might it be the seven-page “Application to Date my Daughter” I have posted online and require to be filled out (with very neat printing and in blue or black ink) prior to a 20-minute interview before any young man can be even evaluated for consideration for permission to date my daughter?

My D.E. teacher, Dr. Hammerstrom, had pretty daughters and I was afraid of him and almost every other father-of-a-daughter in the fatherhood context, especially when they were upstanding members of my church. Maybe all teenage boys are afraid of girls’ dads. Maybe that’s God’s way of keeping things at least somewhat in check.   

Now, where was I?

Oh, yeah, Driver’s Education. Specifically, an afternoon drive from Orange City to Sheldon with Dr. Hammerstrom in the passenger seat, and David Vander Laan and “Bobby” Vander Brock in the back seat.

Sheldon, where the girls could flirt with you and you didn’t worry about your dad meeting up with their dad at church or the Co-op. Sheldon, where I’d driven to my grandparents using that despised learner’s permit at least a couple times every month for two years. Sheldon, where (more to the point) there was parallel parking.

I might have been afraid of Dr. Hammerstrom as the father of daughters, but not as a D.E. teacher. I was totally and completely at ease in the driver’s seat. I’d mastered knee-driving a years earlier. Driving with one arm out the window was as natural as walking or smiling or singing “Pass It On.” Driving with two hands (preferred, I think, by Dr. Hammerstrom), would be a piece of cake.

The “gas crisis” would end “holiday basketball tournaments” and lower the speed limits to 55 in a couple years, but in 1972 the speed limits on two-lane highways like Iowa-60 (a.k.a. 33) were still 75 (Trucks, 70; Night, 65).  

My dad and grandfather had taught me well—anything less than ten miles per hour over the limit was considered perfectly kosher. “75” really meant “80.” Or “84” if mom wasn’t paying attention. There were dozens of jokes I remember about ministers and priests having “lead feet” but ten miles over the limit wasn’t considered too fast. It hardly seemed illegal, or so I had learned.

But the most important thing I learned between Orange City and Hospers was the right way to navigate the wide, sweeping curve:  Don’t focus your gaze on any oncoming traffic or the inside line on the highway. Glance at it, but focus on the outside stripe. Slow down—not with the brakes, just coast into it—as you enter the curve. Then, at the apex, accelerate. Accelerate! “Accelerate Out of the Curve” is still as much a part of my inner voice as is “Blessed are the poor in spirit.”

And so, with Dr. Hammerstrom and Dave and Bobby along for the ride, I confidently entered the big curve. God, I loved that curve! I coasted in and slowed to the speed limit give or take. And then accelerated at the climax. We shot out of the curve 85, maybe 90. Eventually I would slow down to 80 again. Cruise into Sheldon. Parallel park perfectly. Shift into Park. And smile confidently.

Dr. Hammerstrom always seemed so wise and soft-spoken. He asked, “Randy, have you ever considered becoming a preacher?” His tone seemed serious but in the back seat Bobby and my best buddy Dave were smirking and trying to suppress snorts, guffaws, and giggles. “No, why…” I answered. And Dr. Hammerstrom said, “Because you drive like one.”

I was speechless. I drive like a preacher? What?! No accolades on my parallel parking?  

Around 30 years after getting my license and driving my 1968 Galaxy 500 to the Sioux County Fair loaded with hay and corn for my sheep… and around 30 years after running out of gas with the Judy Lenderink (OMG, the preacher’s daughter) on the way home from the fair dance on the blacktop north of Orange City…

I was now a seminary student and invited to preach back at Trinity Reformed Church on Ascension Sunday. Older and a little bit wiser, I had learned to drive slower, eat slower, walk slower, and talk slower than in my younger days. And as I sermonized about Jesus ascending to heaven and the significance of this third-greatest Christian Holy Day in our daily lives, I saw Dr. Hammerstrom and I remembered his question, “Have you ever thought of being a preacher?”

I accelerated through the curve’s climax, and drove my final point home. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.   

                

Food and Faith: On being God's companion

Companion: Latin: com-, together + panis, bread = "one who eats bread with one another." (from the chapter on food in the book Way to Live: Christian Practices for Teens. Edited by Dorothy C. Bass and Don C. Richter.)

We're "companions" when we sit down together at a church potluck or around the family supper table. I did that last night with my kids and Elyse's best friend. And after all of us had helped prepare the meal: Elyse cleaning and slicing strawberries, her friend setting the table, Luke helping me at the stove... After we were all finally sitting down together, we breathed in a collective sigh... and gave thanks: to God, to each other, for God, for each other.

There's another response to food we dare not forget. When we pray, "Give us this day our daily bread," we are reminded that we're asking for "our" daily bread, not just "mine." So our response to food includes remembering other people. The authors of the food chapter in Way to Live expand on this, saying, "Extending God's generosity means actively working to restore honor and life to those people and that land burdened with the work of providing food. It means sharing our food with those who have none, being advocates for the poor, and working to change policies and systems that keep some people hungry while others have more than enough to eat. In short, giving thanks to God is more than saying grace at the table; it is living lives that reflect God's justice and love" (pp. 68-69).

Parting thought. When we take time, especially at the table, to breathe in God and to thank God, when we welcome God to our breakfast nooks, our table-for-two at the bagel cafe, or our booth at the pizza joint, God becomes our companion. After the resurrection, you may remember, it was when Christ gave thanks and broke and shared the bread that the disciples' eyes were opened; and they recognized him.

Guaranteed Renewal

There's a story (told by a UDTS grad) about Satan visiting a church and offering an ironclad guarantee that none of the youth would ever drink too much beer, drive too fast with or without seat belts, or get in trouble at school; a firm promise that no teen would ever get pregnant, that no child would ever bully another child, and that all the youth would attend church every Sunday. All the church had to do was to agree to allow Satan to make pancakes at the annual youth pancake fund-raiser. Just allow him to make the pancakes and everything would be forever OK. Guaranteed. Most of the parents and even some of the smarter young people were ready to agree. But one wild-eyed young boy got up and shouted, "No, we will not allow you to be a part of ANYTHING in our church. Get the &%$# out of here." The congregation was shocked at the young man's language. But Satan left... And hid.... And waits.... For a more opportune time.

Call me skeptical--no, call me wise: I am immediately suspicious of a website that advertises, "Check out this unique resource. Guaranteed to renew your church! Click here for more." Guaranteed renewal? From my experience, only Satan can promise that.

It must be said... (re: Limbaugh's recent comments)

It must be said. And, the more I think about it, it must be said by a pastor. Rush Limbaugh is a jerk. His recent comments were crude and rude, vitriolic and just plain stupid. His words--even in the context of "just trying to make a point through absurdity" or "just being an entertainer"--were outrageous, incendiary, and demeaning towards all women.

A public figure, Limbaugh ought to be vehemently rebuked. Any public figure (including pastors; indeed, especially pastors!) who would like to be taken seriously must denounce Limbaugh's words without reservation. How could I expect to be taken seriously as a mouthpiece of truth on Sunday mornings if I were to hem and haw when asked (perhaps by your daughter), "Pastor, what's your take on Rush Limbaugh's comments?" Hem and haw on this one? Shame on me!

Indeed, the greater shame does not belong to Rush; after all, he's been distasteful and crude for years--this is no great secret, right? The greater shame belongs to radio stations that allow him to spread his manure all over their listening areas, to advertisers who feed the monster, to listeners who provide the motivation for the advertisers. The greater shame belongs to those who merely shake their heads and say, "Tsk, tsk."

Perhaps an even greater shame belongs to the leading Republican candidates, who, so far, have chosen not to condemn that which deserves condemnation. Mitt Romney simply says, it's "not the language" he would have used. Are you kidding? That is far less than the rebuke I once received for just saying "Oh shit!" in the house. Meanwhile, Rick Santorum ("Champion of Faith and Family" says his website) squirmed a bit and finally said, "He's being absurd. But that's, you know--an entertainer can be absurd." What?! Just absurd?! Oh, I get it--kinda like "boys will be boys"? Is that what we're saying?

I repeat, the greatest shame does not belong to Limbaugh (or even his ghost writers) but to those in leadership positions who refuse to give a powerful and unequivocal rebuke against this loudmouth who repeatedly called a young woman a "slut" and a "prostitute" on the public air waves.

For Romney and Santorum, this was a perfect chance for them to take a stand in favor of the high ground, regardless of politics. It was the perfect opportunity, but they blew it.

Leaders observe and clarify reality, offer vision, and speak the truth. Speak the truth! And, in a case like this, a tepid response will not do at all, will it? We would do well to remember what the risen Lord Jesus said to the church in Laodicea: "...Because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth."

Peace,
Rev. Randal K. Lubbers

_______

Rather than being leaders, being men of character, they tried to duck the issue. That, however, is the best case scenario, that they know in their hearts, and minds, that the remarks should be roundly condemned. The worst case scenario is that they agree with Limbaugh.

Where has morality gone? What kind of men call a woman a derogatory and a vile name, a 'slut' because of her political views - in a democracy!!! - views held by millions of others that, agree or disagree, are at heart about trying to help people stay healthy? What kind of a world would we have if we were lead by men like that?

That Romney and Santorum chose to respond so limply, if done out of fear of alienating voters, is downright shameful. But if done because they secretly agree with Limbaugh - then that is downright scary.

-- Marcus Hondro

2011 Christmas Letter

Winter Solstice, 2011

Season’s Greetings from the Lubbers in Lake Crystal —

Yes, it’s been awhile since I’ve had the time or inclination to write and send out the “Annual Christmas Letter” but… it’s time again. As I get started, it occurs to me that an annual letter was, in years long past, a much-anticipated and delightful creative outlet for a somewhat-frustrated accountant. But now—oh, my, this involves many of the same movements as my weekly sermon-writing, monthly newsletter writing, and so forth. Not that those aren’t great fun—once I get going. But, still.

And so I begin… with coffee mug at hand… and Christmas music in the air… and gratitude in my heart…

Luke (12) is enjoying sixth grade, his “senior year” at the elementary school which is just three blocks from our home. Luke is healthy and happy—save the normal boyhood bumps and bruises and bouts with cold/flu, and periodic (but much, much less evident lately) feelings of lingering grief, which is only natural. Luke has a rich and nuanced sense of humor: picture a mix of Carolyn’s goofy humor and childlike innocence with a dose of my quirkiness (a.k.a. insanity). One of our favorite things is family spaghetti dinner with Tucker (Luke’s best buddy) because there’s usually at least one belly laugh for all. Luke’s bedtime reading lately has been A Prairie Home Companion’s Pretty Good Joke Book. In school Luke is excelling in math, music, and current events; he plays football, basketball, and baseball (but took a year off from football this fall); he likes watching the Minnesota Wild with Dad, playing video games, fishing, and just goofing off with friends. Like the whole family, Luke loves the Minnesota Twins!

Elyse (15) is a sophomore at LCWM High—she’s involved in—well, it seems like—everything! She loves spending time with friends including regular “movie nights” which move from house to house and having a friend or two sleep-over. She plays volleyball and softball and, just last fall, joined the wrestling cheer squad. Is OK for me to brag a bit? Elyse is on student council, honor roll, was president of the local National Junior Honor Society chapter, was the cheer squad “MVP” last year (captain this year); she had great performances in many groups at vocal contests including a superior rating for her solo and best-in-site small group and was honored as her school’s outstanding freshman vocalist last spring. Oops—now I hear her voice, “Enough already, Dad. Quit embarrassing me!” To embarrass, I am certain, is far and away the most grievous offense possible for the parent of a teen. Elyse is mature, cheerful, compassionate, and responsible. I’m proud and lucky to be her dad. She’s teaching Sunday school this year along with two other girls.

John (30) married Stephanie in June 2010. Dad was overjoyed and privileged to officiate the wedding—Elyse and Luke were both in the wedding party. In July 2011 John took a new job flying cargo jets out of Portland, Oregon. John and Stephanie live in Vancouver, Washington. They’ll get more space in next year’s letter—especially since they have a baby due in June 2012.


And maybe next year I’ll get a paragraph, too. Glean what you will from the “Year in Review” or look me up on Facebook. Or, better yet, stop in and visit me at one of the best churches a pastor could ever ask for—First Presbyterian Church in Lake Crystal. The folks here are humble, open, compassionate, and welcoming. I think they love their pastor even when they may not “like” him, if you know what I mean. And that makes this a very good place to be. Wishing you a blessed Christmastide and a prosperous and healthy New Year…

In Christ,
Randy

2011 in Review

Huge piles of snow—good exercise for Dad—nearly 100 inches for the winter. “March Madness”—Elyse and the cheer squad follow the team to the Xcel Energy Center (home of the Wild) for the exciting team and individual State Wrestling Tournaments.

Mid-March Spring-Break Vacation to Arizona—a delightful time with John & Stephanie in Prescott including John flying Dad, Elyse, and Luke over the Grand Canyon; also, Stephanie shopping with Elyse while John gave Luke and Dad some shooting lessons somewhere in the desert; also, a wonderful visit with Grandpa and Grandma Jaarsma in Tucson—we all trekked down to Tombstone (site of the famous O.K. Corral Gunfight); Dad and Luke spent a day at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum and ate at the fabulous Mi Nidito Mexican Restaurant (“Oh, yes! it’s as good as they say on Man v. Food).

Dance Recital for Elyse in April—possibly her last, she does know how to say “no” to some things when she feels like her plate might be getting too full.

Vacation to Holland, Michigan in June for Ralph and Elaine’s 50th wedding anniversary; visit with John and Stephanie in Quincy, Illinois on the return trip. And, part of our vacation days, a fun visit to Target Field for our school’s appearance in the State Baseball Championship.

Baseball games and tourneys for Luke—at one (on June 4), Dad, forgetting that he’s no longer twenty-something, fell while goofing off with Luke’s teammates between games and ended up with a severe rotator cuff tear (not to mention the confusion at seismic monitors in the Midwest).

Late Summer Summary: Rotator cuff surgery on July 13 followed by a slow-but-steady recovery and rehab—the first few weeks in record-breaking heat and humidity. Just so you know, the first 48 hours after surgery were #&@% (that is, not fun). Driver’s permit for Elyse on July 1; Dad begins praying an extra few minutes each day on July 2. Elyse to Rocky Mountain High with the Second Reformed (Pella) youth group—“Fabulous! Exciting! Fun! A Great Experience!” Luke celebrates his 12th birthday with a sleep-over—bacon and pancakes for ten kids! Luke and a friend and Dad spend a day at The Great Minnesota Get-Together, the Minnesota State Fair!

Luke and Dad jinx the Hawkeyes again: we’ve been to three Iowa-Minnesota football games in Minneapolis and the Gophers have beaten Iowa all three times!

Elyse hosts the wrestling cheer squad for a pre-season pillow-making, sign-making, and general bonding sleep-over in the basement. More pancakes. More bacon.

“Feast at First” on furlough: Eight years ago Carolyn started the free Thanksgiving Day dinner at our church and we enthusiastically continued the tradition. But, after seven straight years, we decided to take a Sabbath (or “Jubilee” year) in 2011. We enjoyed a family Thanksgiving in Orange City with the Lubbers family and we already have some volunteers to be the coordinator (a.k.a. “boss of the kitchen”) for “Feast at First 2012.”

Which brings us to December— December?! What happened to December?!  Christmas vocal music concerts at school for both Luke and Elyse; Christmas program at church; ringing the bell for the Salvation Army’s Red Kettle Campaign (our church has been the #1 overall fund-raising organization in the Greater Mankato Area for the last two years and we’re always in the top two—we fill a whole week of slots at Cub Foods East in Mankato); shopping and a host of other preparations like laundry and housecleaning with the kids; and—Dad’s highlight—preparing for and praying for and anticipating our three beautiful and meaningful worship services: Christmas Eve Candlelight Service @ 5:30 PM, Christmas Eve Communion-by-Candlelight Service @ 11:00 PM, and The Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ on Christmas Day @ 9:30 AM.