Jesus and Genesis

Our pastor talked about divorce during the sermon a few weeks back. One of the new testament Gospel readings referred to Genesis in the old testatment.

"Jesus replied, 'But at the beginning of creation God 'made them male and female.'' "

Mark 10:6

An interesting reminder,

Jesus believed in, and taught, creation.

He didn't equivocate.

Coincidentally, there have been a few recent "findings" concerning the theory of evolution.

As always, these theories are inconclusive, using pieces of bone fragments to tell a story their discoverers would prefer to believe.

Click to read an update on Lucy (this was before the newest find of 'Ardi')

Jesus didn't think creation was a story.

What do you believe?

"I'd rather wait for a wider path..."

Just a year ago this fall, my wife and I were walking through a remote section of state park along Lake Michigan. It's an ungroomed backpacking area away from bike paths and asphalt. There was a lot of thick overgrowth and many false forks. Any trail markers or signs were few and far between. Still, we'd hiked even more remote areas (there was that time in Alaska...) and we'd easily be back long before nightfall. Plus, what better orientation than knowing a Great Lake was somewhere off to our right, for crying out loud!

Oops.

About the time we expected to meet up with a return loop to the trail head and our car, the winding trail veered sharply from the lake shore and we soon lost sight (and sound) of the water.

The path shrunk until neither of us believed that the thin ribbon of dirt beneath our feet was the real "trail." And looking backward in the fading light, we realized we could wander endlessly in circles trying to retrace our steps to the lake shore (no compass!).

With the temperature dropping rapidly, our light hiking clothing would make for a very miserable night in the forest. Brrrr!

So we both rejoiced when a few more twists and turns of that tiny path spilled us back onto the main trail and an arrow to the parking lot. Yes!

Even in the dark, we could safely navigate back from there. What a relief.

Clear direction.

There was only one path home that made sense to us.

Neither one of us said, "this is insulting, there should be more options."

It didn't occur to us to say, "I don't like having to take this path with the arrow, let's wander back into the overgrowth where we're in full control."

Instead, we were happy - and grateful - to have a way out of the dark and to the reassuring comfort at the end of the trail.

It's really not so bad accepting a single, narrow path to the assured solution.

Or is it?

What do you believe?

What Makes a Big Church ?

I grew up attending this little church on a quiet residential street in our town.

In it's day--the 60's--it was a bustling place. Thriving Sunday school, pot luck dinners, fund raisers. We were small, make no mistake. Even after our big "expansion" program, the modest new church addition had painted cinder block walls and a concrete floor. But we filled it every Sunday.

That is, until the 70's and 80's when many family's drifted off, some to larger venues.

I drifted off too. On to more evangelical beliefs, and yes, to larger, more active congregations.

I wondered what kept the little place going. Besides my parents, there were a dozen or so 'core' families that hung in there. And when we did visit for a Sunday service, they--the 20 or 25 people in attendance--were always kind and attentive to us, and to all their members. But do the math. Is that a sustainable...church? Sometimes I just smiled and shook my head, wondering how they hung on.

When my mom died this August, there was a lot to prepare for the funeral service and luncheon. I had no idea. But church members, my parents' dear friends, immediately mobilized to take on tasks without asking. Tables were set up in the church hall. A team assembled to handle kitchen and clean-up. Ushers were on duty. The organist and pastor were at our disposal to plan the service.

And once again we filled that little church.

Not just with people, though every square inch of pew was occupied. It brimmed and overflowed with love and the Holy Spirit. Honest to goodness pipe organ music rose and rang off those cinder block walls. Prayers and remembrances were clear and heartfelt. People were comforted and consoled.

It was the fullest, most glorious celebration I could imagine for my mom, or anyone.

And bustling back and forth behind the scenes throughout the day were those same "core" people who were always so kind and attentive whenever I returned home for a visit. Unnoticed for the most part by visiting guests, they were just glad to do something for my mom, and their church.

They ministered to all of us. They acted in faith, with a foundation built on the love of Christ.

Six weeks later, my sister's husband also passed away from cancer and we were right back in the same welcoming arms. The same people rallied together without a hesitation and quietly, selflessly did it again.

I don't know how they've kept that little place going all these years. Or, maybe I do.

What do you believe?