WHERE 2 OR 3 ARE GATHERED [4-6-25]

BEYOND WINTER: The Forgotten Memories of An Old Man—WHERE 2 OR 3 ARE GATHERED [4-6-25]

 

It was Sunday morning, 7:00 o’clock. The phone rang. My first thought was that someone was calling about one of my parents. They were old. There was always something about to go wrong with one or the other. [They were several years younger then than I am now.]

No, it was Paul Sellers, my District Superintendent. It’s always a bit of an adrenaline rush when the DS calls at this time of year, when the Cabinet [Bishop and DSs together] is fixing pastoral appointments for the coming year. It took me a couple of moments to remember that a DS would not be calling on a Sunday morning to tell me I would be appointed to the Raccoon Circuit. I had retired the year before.

The call was indeed about a problem with an old person’s health, but it was not about my parents. It was Paul’s mother-in-law. He and Diana had to leave immediately to go to her. That meant I had an hour to get presentable and eat breakfast and get on the road to Beecher City and Shumway, where Paul was scheduled to preach.

Paul seemed to think that I owed him, since he had not thrown me out of the ministry when he wanted to. I hadn’t actually done anything to get tossed during his years as DS, at least nothing he knew about, but my District Superintendents were always sure that I was just about to do something that would cause them trouble. As I closed in on retirement, Paul and I were chatting after a district meeting, and he mused, “If we can just get through one more month without you doing something…”

Also, Paul had sold me his father-in-law’s car when he could no longer drive, and he seemed to think that meant I should drive it to where he needed it to go. It’s a good thing we had that car, because that morning Helen was joining the church in the town we had moved to in retirement. [1] She would have to take our other car and sit in church by herself. She was used to that, but she had thought that it would be different in retirement.

 

I didn’t know where Beecher City and Shumway were, but I had a map. Remember those? They had never seen me before, but the folks at those churches took my presence in stride. Whatev. As long as somebody is here to preach…

At least, I assume they took me in stride, for I can remember nothing at all about the Beecher City and Shumway churches. I can’t even remember being there. But I know I was, for just now I came across some notes from a day-long retreat I led for the clergy of The Okaw River District shortly after. I told them this story.

If I can’t remember the churches of Beecher City and Shumway, I’m sure no one there can remember me, either. But we worshipped together that morning, and we helped one another get our spirits ready for another week.

I have worshipped with others approximately five thousand times in my lifetime. I preached at about three thousand of them. I can remember only a few moments from those occasions with my fellow-seekers. But each time, one way or another, we got renewed to face the world for another week, because Christ was there. [Mt 18:20]

That’s why we worship together, to be reminded of Christ, to be reminded that Christ is love, to get ready for what comes next.

John Robert McFarland

1] Methodist clergy do not belong to the local church where they live, or the one in which they are appointed to preach. We belong to the Conference, the amalgam of everything Methodist in a geographical area. My membership is in The Illinois Great Rivers Conference.

 

POTHOLES ON THE ROAD TO WISDOM [F, 4-4-25]

BEYOND WINTER: The Irrelevant Musings of An Old Man—POTHOLES ON THE ROAD TO WISDOM [F, 4-4-25]

 

St. Augustine said that “the so-called innocence of children is more a matter of weakness of limb than purity of heart.”

Anyone who is a parent, school teacher, or church nursery worker will verify that observation.

I think that the so-called wisdom of old people is more a matter of slowness of mind than increase of understanding.

When I look thoughtful, preparing to dispense some sagacious perception, I’m really trying to remember what the conversation is about, or trying to recall the name of the person I intend to quote… “Was it Dudley Moore, or Paul Baker, or Kowalski, on The Penguins of Madagascar, who created The Serenity Prayer?”

By the time I figure out that it was Reinhold Niebuhr, the conversation has gone onto something about Paris, but I’m not sure if it’s Hilton, France, or Illinois, so I just keep looking thoughtful.

In former days, when I decided to do something stupid, I went from thought to action in a nanosecond. Now when I decide to commit some egregious sin, by the time I’m able to get off the sofa, I can’t remember which sin I had in mind. I can’t even remember what “egregious” means.

I read The Road to Wisdom by Francis Collins, MD, PhD. It’s a good book. I recommend it. But it’s primarily useful because his personal story is interesting. There’s no special road to wisdom, just as Euclid said to the king that “there is no royal road to geometry.” You get wise by paying attention as you grow older. If you don’t pay attention, you just keep being stupid.

Will Rogers said “A man’s just about as happy as he makes up his mind to be.” That’s true. It’s also true that a person’s just about as wise as they make up their mind to be. If you want to be stupid, it don’t make no difference which road you take; they all lead to stupid.

We are not wiser just because we are older. Sometimes aging just means we have made the same mistakes so long that we’ve become used to them and think they are normal.

But maybe wisdom isn’t really necessary. Maybe all we need to know has been with us all along. Paul Tournier, the Swiss physician, said: “You’re never too young or too old to commit your life to Christ, and after that, what more is there to do?”

I spent my life trying to explain to other people what it means to commit one’s life to Christ. I have never attained enough wisdom to explain it to myself. The great thing about old age is that you don’t need wisdom, even if you look old enough that you ought to have some. You can be wise or stupid. Either way, what you really need is God. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” [Proverbs 9:10 and Psalm 111:10.]

Getting in touch with God is real easy, since God is already there… wherever “there” is.

John Robert McFarland

 

 

INSPIRATION VS EXPIRATION [W, 4-2-25]

BEYOND WINTER: The Irrelevant Observations of An Old Man—INSPIRATION VS EXPIRATION [W, 4-2-25]

 

I’ve told you this story before, but since the new baseball season is here…

It was in the days when the Athletics had moved from Philadelphia to Kansas City on their way to Oakland to Sacramento to Las Vegas. They had not yet built a major league level ball park in Kansas City, so they played in a more “porous” minor league park, the kind where a dog might just wander in.

That’s what happened one day. It ran out to home plate. The fans began to yell at it. “Go for first.” “Take a walk.” “Bite the umpire.” It ran to first. “Go for second,” they shouted. It ran to second base. “Run to third.” It ran to third base.

There it stopped. People continued to clamor. “Go for home.” “Get a run.” “It’s the only run they’ll get.” Louder and louder. But the dog just sat on third base, until the grounds keepers came and carried it away.

A sports writer, reporting on the dog’s adventure, said, “It never got to home, because in all that shouting, it couldn’t recognize the voice of a master.”

From as long as I can remember, I went to church to be inspired, to hear the voice of the master, one that would lead me home. That’s what I wanted, needed, expected--preachers who inspired me to be an authentic person, a follower of Jesus, a respecter of others, one open to the leading of the Spirit. They told stories of others who lived authentically. They made me laugh. They made me feel lighter. They made me feel that I could do it, that I could conquer the demons and dilemmas of life.

I was inspired not only by preachers in church. I was inspired to be a good person by seeing goodness in action, in the lives of relatives and neighbors and friends and teachers.

Church, though, seemed to be a special place for inspiration, a place, a community, where that was the main task, to be inspired, to have fun, to spread joy, to sing and pray together.

So when I became a preacher that’s what I tried to do—inspire, in my preaching, in the rest of the worship service, in the rest of the church life.

There is more to life than inspiration, of course, and more to church. Preachers need to provide opportunities for education and fellowship and service. “Faith without works is dead.” [James 2:14-26]

Some would say that inspiration is encouragement toward anything, including lives of hate. There are orators who speak with mighty tongues encouraging people to hate. But that is not inspiration. That is expiration. Inspiration is for life. Expiration encourages death.

There is no joy in expiration. If humor is attempted, it is laughter at, not laughter with. It is bullying, hating, disrespecting. It is not making fun, but making fun of.

Many preachers, many churches, now preach not an inspiring gospel of good news but an expiring gospel of bad news, a gospel that extols greed and hate. It is sad.

So many churches, so many people, shout and run, but they never get to home, because in all the chaos and clamor, they never hear the voice of the master.

John Robert McFarland