The Meyer Minute

The Meyer Minute for July 23, 2021

Diane’s garden is producing tomatoes. Like a volcano, her garden is spewing out more tomatoes than we can handle, not a lava flow, a tomato flow. We can’t give them away fast enough. Rev. Fred Munchow was a pastor in Altamont, Illinois. I remember his advice to pastors. When you drive to church on Sunday this time of year, be sure to roll up your windows. If you don’t, parishioners will fill your car seats with tomatoes, zucchini, and all the other abundance from their garden, more than you can use. 

“Man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord” (Deuteronomy 8:3; Matthew 4:4). We do need bread. It was a famine that led the children of Israel into Egypt, and after hundreds of years they were led into a land of milk and honey. Sometimes our gardens produce, our business prospers, our investments grow, but other times we are in want. In every time, the Spirit leads us to “seek first the kingdom of God” (Matthew 6:33). “Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food” (Isaiah 55:2). 

“When you come into the land that the Lord your God is giving you for an inheritance and have taken possession of it and live in it, you shall take some of the first of all the fruit of the ground, which you harvest from your land that the Lord your God is giving you, and you shall put it in a basket, and you shall go…to the priest…. Then the priest shall take the basket from your hand and set it down before the altar of the Lord your God” (Deuteronomy 26:1-4).  

Yesterday Diane made a tomato pie. This was a new venture, and she was worried how it would turn out. It was great; I liked it. Still, we have more tomatoes than we can eat, and more blessings than we could have ever earned. Our pastor probably doesn’t need our tomatoes but the Lord and His Church desire devotion and our first fruits. “Honor the Lord with your wealth and with the first fruits of all your produce; then your barns will be filled with plenty, and your vats will be bursting with wine” (Proverbs 3:10). 

The Meyer Minute for J

How do we hear a Gospel lesson when it’s presented in church on Sunday? Or personally for me and fellow preachers, how do we present Gospel lessons? Last Sunday’s Gospel in many churches was the feeding of the 5000 (Mark 6:30-44). A typical sermon might go this way: Jesus did a miracle, showed His divine power, and that means xxx for us. This coming Sunday Jesus walks on water and strange things happen (Mark 6:45-56). Again: Jesus shows His divine power and that means xxx for us. Nothing wrong with that, except… 

Retirement gives me more time to study and reflect on my ministry. So, nothing wrong with “Jesus shows His divine power and that means xxx for us” except that it doesn’t present Jesus in the most accurate historical light. Theologians talk about Jesus’ “State of Humiliation.” “As man, Christ did not always or fully use or manifest the divine powers and majesty that were communicated to His human nature” (“Luther’s Small Catechism with Explanation,” 183). The State of Humiliation includes His incarnation, birth, life, death, and burial. Then comes His “State of Exaltation” when “His power and majesty are manifest fully and constantly in His victorious descent into hell, His resurrection from the dead, His ascension into heaven, His present reign at the right hand of God, and His future return for judgment” (185). 

What state is Jesus in now? He’s in the State of Exaltation, not Humiliation. But if I preach a sermon and say, and I have on many occasions, “Jesus did such and such a miracle, showed His divine power, and that means xxx for us,” am I not leading the congregation to think of Jesus mainly as a historical person who did wonderful things, and now we are drawing truths from history to apply to our lives here and now? Should I not also present the Gospel lesson saying this Jesus “is risen from the dead and lives and reigns to all eternity”? That the Lord reigning here-and-now over our world and in our church is the Lord who did such and such when He was visible on earth? My sense is that we are good at looking back, and we absolutely should, but not so good at pointing our people forward to Jesus’ return. That might give the church more energy for life and mission.  

The Meyer Minute for July 21, 2021

Maybe it’s like cataracts when your vision is blurred. We live so much in our American culture that it’s very hard to appreciate what life was like for the first Christians. For example, the First Amendment guarantees us free exercise of religion. When that is contested, we Christians can go to court. This is “due process,” guaranteed us by the Fourteenth Amendment. I think early Christians would have been amazed at this right, this blessing we have.  

Read what Pliny the Younger, governor of Bithynia, wrote to Emperor Trajan, around 112 AD: “This is the course that I have adopted in the case of those brought before me as Christians. I ask them if they are Christians. If they admit it, I repeat the question a second and a third time, threatening capital punishment; if they persist, I sentence them to death. For I do not doubt that, whatever kind of crime it may be to which they have confessed, their pertinacity and inflexible obstinacy should certainly be punished. There were others who displayed a like madness and whom I reserved to be sent to Rome, since they were Roman citizens. 

“Thereupon the usual results follow; the very fact of my dealing with the question led to a wider spread of the charge, and a great variety of cases were brought before me. An anonymous pamphlet was issued, containing many names. All who denied that they were or had been Christians I considered should be discharged, because they called upon the gods at my dictation and did reverence, with incense and wine, to your image…” 

Sometimes I think it’s almost impossible for us to put ourselves in their shoes, or maybe I should say see clearly without our modern cultural cataracts. But in trying to see through deep Bible study, deep is key, we are humbled, grow in respect for other Christians in other times and places, and do fix ourselves on what transcends times and cultures, Christ, His Word, and His worship. 

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The Meyer Minute for July 20, 2021

Do you ever have days when your mind doesn’t focus? Times when your mind flits here, flits there, can’t settle? That’s me today. Feels like "Seinfeld and Friends," “a show about nothing.” 

The magazine “Scientific American” posted a conversation between reporter Karen Hopkin and Leonardo Cohen, a researcher with the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke. Their conversation is about learning to play the piano. Cohen: “We know from previous research that interspersing rest with practice during training is advantageous for learning a new skill. In fact, we recently sowed that virtually all early skill learning is evidenced during rest rather than during the actual practice.” Hopkin: “It’s during those intermittent breaks that the brain starts to sew together the individual movements that make up a seamless piece.” 

Maybe the brain is busy, quietly making scattered things whole? Might this be why the Creator established the Sabbath? “On it you shall not do any work” (Exodus 20:10). 

There’s something wrong with too much busyness. Covid has been a pandemic of virtual meetings. “‘It’s not sustainable,’ she (Angela Nguyen, a healthcare consultant) says. She has watched clients attempt to divide and conquer, hopping on for 15-minute cameos or dispatching various team members to different video calls. Then they sync up after—with another meeting.” (Wall Street Journal, July 19; A11) 

In his weekly address July 18, Pope Francis said, “Let us put a halt to the frantic running around dictated by our agendas. Let us learn how to take a break, to turn off the mobile phone.” (“The Hill,” July 20) 

Is God a man, only concerned about productivity? From Scottish preacher George Matheson: “O my Father, I have moments of deep unrest—moments when I know not what to ask by reason of the very excess of my wants. I have in these hours no words for Thee, no conscious prayers for Thee…. Thou hast received the nameless longings of my heart as the intercessions of Thy Spirit. They are not yet the intercessions of my spirit; I know not what I ask. But Thou knowest (a reference to Romans 8:26-27). Because I am made in Thine image, I can find rest only in what gives rest to Thee.” (“For All the Saints,” IV, 269). 

God’s in heaven, the Spirit of Christ is in us. Let lack of focus be sanctified rest and peace. 

The Meyer Minute for July 19, 2021

I’m mildly embarrassed to say that Saturday was my first visit to Cahokia Mounds after 40 years in Collinsville. That’s akin to living in St. Louis but never going to the Arch or living in D.C. but never going to the Capital. So, after all these years, I went. 

Cahokia Mounds, just west of Collinsville was, as a sign says, “the largest prehistoric Indian community in America north of Mexico. It covered an area of six square-miles, including at least 120 mounds of different size and function.” It was occupied from about 700 AD to about 1350 AD, with a population of 10 to 20,000. In 1814 a man named Brackenridge recounted his first sight of the largest mound, Monks Mound. “When I reached the foot of the principal mound, I was struck with a degree of astonishment, not unlike that which is experienced in contemplating the Egyptian pyramids. What a stupendous pile of earth!” (“Cahokia,” Pauketat and Emerson, 11). 

My embarrassment was mild but my humbling immense. We think it’s all about us, about our way of living, our civilization, our achievements. I’ve driven by the mounds thousands of times over 40 years, and almost always was thinking of whatever was on my mind. That’s natural, mankind turns in on itself, we all do. The Cahokians looked beyond themselves with their religion. Whatever that religion was, it was true to them as Christianity is true to so many of us. “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” says our Lord (John 14:6). The question always arises among Christians, “What about people who never knew Jesus? Are they saved?” I thought about that as I climbed to the top of Monks Mound and came to the answer I’ve settled into after 70 plus years of life. I don’t know. All I do know is that God has made a claim on my devotion through Jesus Christ. Just trying to comprehend that keeps me busy. “How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!” (Romans 11:33). 

I’m going back this morning. Walking the paths and climbing Monks Mound are good for exercise but most especially, humbling.  

The Meyer Minute for July 16, 2021

Although just a kid, I remember the euphoria when Dr. Jonas Salk discovered the polio vaccine. There probably were people who refused back then, just as some today refuse vaccinations for Covid. Newscast after newscast shows doctors… the word come from the Latin word “docere,” to teach… We see learned people trying to teach that the vaccine is both safe and necessary for the welfare of us all. But some people for whatever reasons… 

A key concept in 1 Peter is obedience. Christians are “children of obedience” (1:14, 22), which goes directly against deep-seated convictions of independent American individualists, which is on full display in this crisis. St. Paul speaks of “the obedience of faith” (Romans 1:5), meaning obedience is integral to faith, submission to God whom we can’t see and to others whom we can see. Putting others above ourselves is rooted in Jesus himself, who became a servant for our sakes (Philippians 2:3-11) and now is exalted over all things.  

“Be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution, whether it be to the emperor as supreme, or to governors as sent by him to punish those who do evil and to praise those who do good. For this is the will of God, that by doing good you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish people. Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God. Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor” (1 Peter 2:13-17). 

Invincible ignorance is nothing new. The key word is “invincible.” The only sure thing when dealing with invincible ignorance is hope for the Day when the exalted Christ is seen and makes all things whole. Hope “that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. In this hope we were saved” (Romans 8:21, 24). Just as there’s “long-haul Covid,” we have long-haul hope.  

The Meyer Minute for July 15, 2021

Samuel Moor Shoemaker was an Episcopal priest, well known for his preaching and social ministry (1893-1963). Here is the beginning of his “An Apologia for My Life.” 

“I stand by the door. 

I neither go too far in, nor stay too far out, 

The door is the most important door in the world – 

It is the door through which men walk when they find God. 

There’s no use my going way inside, and staying there, 

When so many are still outside and they, as much as I, 

Crave to know where the door is. 

And all that so many ever find 

Is only the wall where a door ought to be. 

They creep along the wall like blind men, 

With outstretched, grouping hands. 

Feeling for a door, knowing there must be a door, 

Yet they never find it… 

So I stand by the door.  

The most tremendous thing in the world 

Is for men to find that door—the door to God.” 

Dr. Shomaker not only helped men toward God in word but also in deed. He helped guide the basic principles of Alcoholics Anonymous. Founder Bill Wilson said, “How well I remember that first day I caught sight of Sam. It was a Sunday service in his church. I was still rather gun-shy and diffident about churches. I can still see him standing there before the lectern. And Sam's utter honesty, his tremendous forthrightness, his almost terrible sincerity struck me deep. I shall never forget it.” Isn’t that to be the character of our church and ministry? 

The Meyer Minute for July 14, 2021

While major crops here in Illinois are corn, soybeans, and some wheat, now and then you drive past a field of sunflowers. The internet tells me sunflowers grow in all 50 states, but 75 percent of sunflowers grown for harvesting come from Minnesota, South Dakota, and North Dakota. You know how the sunflower, like other flowers, follows the sun. Therein lies a little religious lesson. 

Consider the distance between the sun and a sunflower. The giant sun is about 93 million miles away from that one, solitary sunflower. In many ways God is even more distant from us. The Most High “dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see” (1 Timothy 6:16). Does God care about little me, little you? 

Still, the sun does reach across millions of miles to touch the sunflower. Why do we limit God’s coming to us to an hour in a building on Sunday? My thoughts these days are in the Old Testament, how it is filled with almost countless stories of God coming to mankind. “God in search of man” is how the Jewish philosopher Abraham Heschel described the world around us. 

The sunflower depends totally upon its source of life. Do we religious have eyes but not see? Do we worship with our lips, but our hearts are not always looking to Him? Churchgoing and Bible meditation should turn us to God’s shining in our lives in every day, in every place. “God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:6). In His light, do we see light? (Psalm 36:9). “The whole earth is full of his glory! (Isaiah 6:3).  

“Father, I will today / On Your love rely; 

Let no evil thought / Cloud the clear blue sky. 

Joyful and content / With life’s simpler things, 

Knowing all I need / From Your kindness springs.” 

(Lutheran Service Book 871:3) 

The Meyer Minute for July 13, 2021

Richard Branson’s few exhilarating minutes on the threshold of space? I had more yesterday. Driving toward St. Louis, heavy fog was over the Mississippi River, not unusual, but the music on the radio put me into thoughts of my own eventual space journey. “Deep River, my home is over Jordan. Deep river, Lord, I want to cross over into campground.”  I was headed to the hospital for an MRI. 

This was my third MRI, so I knew the drill and wasn’t, am still not fretting over what the results might be. After all, I do know my future, though the exact details are like crossing the river, foggy. Three stabs before they could get the IV in. Does this happen to all older people? A few minutes later I’m on the tray, ready to be slid into the tube. Technician Megan, asks, “Do you have any questions before we hook up the power injector and get going?” Uh, the “power injector”? Does Richard Branson have a “power injector”? Turns out it had something to do with shooting dye into my veins.  

For the next 45 minutes I was relaxed, listening to classical music but also thinking ahead to that time when my body will be laid out after my spirit has taken its flight into eternity. Not being morbid here!  Thoughts in that narrow space made me realize how precious life is, and why we believe in “eternal” life. Lying still the whole time, I broke into a big smile when Handel’s Hallelujah chorus played in my headset. “The Kingdom of this world / Is become / The Kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ, and of His Christ. / And He shall reign forever and ever.”  

“My home is over Jordan,” foggy though the details may be. “If we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him” (Romans 6:8). “The last enemy to be destroyed is death. This perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality…. Then shall come to pass the saying that is written: ‘Death is swallowed up in victory.’ ‘O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?’ …Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:26, 53-55, 57). What a journey awaits us!      

The Meyer Minute for July 12, 2021

“What’s with the skull?” Saturday’s Wall Street Journal had an article about Albrecht Duerer’s paintings, including “St. Jerome in His Study” from 1521. An old, bearded man is looking at you. He is St. Jerome, or supposed to be. In fact, he was a 91-year-old man of Antwerp whom Duerer contracted to sit as his model. Jerome looks right at you. Before him are books; Jerome was a scholar who translated the Bible into Latin. Next to the books, it’s the skull that intrigues me. I have a layman’s appreciation for art but depend upon experts to point me to art’s deeper meanings. Some armchair research guided my thoughts. The old biblical scholar’s index finger points my eyes to the skull, “memento mori,” “remember death.” “Even the wise die” (Psalm 49:10). And looming over the old man and skull, Duerer has painted a crucifix on the wall.   

Sometimes I’m tired and don’t have the energy to read the Bible or devotional literature. Often in those times I turn the pages of an art book. “A picture is worth a thousand words” is true for devotion as well. Jesus’ parables are pictures, maybe we should say videos. Stained glass windows in churches present truths, helpful when sermon or service aren’t compelling your attention. One prayer asks that “Your Word not be bound,” and art helps answer that prayer. 

Duerer’s painting recalls for me Psalm 49. “Why should I fear in times of trouble, when the iniquity of those who cheat me surrounds me, those who trust in their wealth and boast of the abundance of their riches? Truly no man can ransom another, or give to God the price of his life, for the ransom of their life is costly and he can never suffice, that he should live on forever and never see the pit. For he sees that even the wise die; the fool and the stupid alike must perish and leave their wealth to others” (5-10). 

See the crucifix behind the old man pondering the Bible and pointing us to the skull? See the crucifix? “God will ransom my soul from the power of Sheol, for he will receive me” (15).  

You can google “St. Jerome in His Study, 1521” to see this devotion yourself.