The Meyer Minute

The Meyer Minute for March 30, 2017

Looking through the St. Louis Post-Dispatch yesterday, I came to the obituary pages. Many obituaries now include photographs of the deceased, and one photo led me to read the full death notice. “Isabella ‘Bella’ Sammartano, age 20, Kirkwood, from a heroin overdose….” Whoa. When older people die, friends and family grieve but know that their loved one lived a full life. The promise of Isabella’s life was cut short by the plague of addiction.

Of course, I have no immediate solution, but we can lay on our hearts the ongoing duty of the Fifth Commandment, “Thou shalt not kill.” Every commandment has its negative, thou shalt not, but that always implies a positive, thou shalt. A 16^th century theologian named Martin Chemnitz listed the positives of this commandment. “…Being kind toward all people, enduring with gentleness even those who are evil, 1 Timothy 6:11. Having patience, gentleness, kindness, forgiving offenses, and overlooking injury, Ephesians 4:32; Colossians 3:12. Friendship and gratitude, rendering kindness for kindness. Showing mercy toward the evils of others, having warm love which is shown toward and rejoices in the good deeds of others. Fairness which bears many weaknesses in others. Showing friendship and kindness, which demonstrates the signs of good intention in our deeds and words” (Loci, 743).

Credit is due the grieving parents for putting the cause of death in full view of the public, “from a heroin overdose.” Their courage encourages action. When people, especially we followers of Jesus, do not affirm and work for life in ways appropriate to our various callings, we sin. “Whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin” (James 4:17). “Lord, have mercy.”

The Meyer Minute for March 29, 2017

Diane spent part of yesterday battling a weed that’s taken over our back yard, purple dead nettle, in Latin lameum purpureum. The individual plants are, at least in my opinion, pretty. A spike of purple flowers rising from dark green leaves, but in overrunning the yard they become the gardener’s enemy, weeds. Another real life example of sin’s corruption of nature. “Cursed is the ground because of you. Thorns and thistles (and purple dead nettle) it shall bring forth for you” (Genesis 3:17).

When you’re immersed in the scriptures you see truths reflected in gardening. Isaiah 5 compares the hopes a man puts in his  vineyard to God’s beautiful planting of His people… and the disappointment He feels when He finds only weeds. “Let me sing for my beloved, my love song concerning his vineyard: My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill. He dug it and cleared it of stones, and planted it with choice vines…and he looked for it to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes. When I looked for it to yield grapes, why did it yield wild grapes? And now I will tell you what I will do to my vineyard. I will make it a waste; it shall not be pruned or hoed, and briers and thorns shall grow up. He looked for justice, but behold bloodshed, for righteousness, but behold, an outcry!”

The church is God’s planting today, His vineyard, His garden. The fruits of justice and righteousness in our lives come from intimate connection with the vine, Jesus. Cultivation comes when we see how easily we go native, produce wild grapes, weeds in God’s garden. What’s a weed? It’s in the eye of the beholder. Lenten purple, lameum purpureum, repentance, Jesus, and an increase in good fruits to delight the God.

The Meyer Minute for March 28, 2017

Yesterday was a rainy day on campus, and so water puddled in low spots. Walking home, I came to a puddle in the street and found a robin busy bathing. Putting its head down, flapping its wings… the robin seemed quite happy with its newly found place to splash.

I enjoyed that moment; still do. Our souls can be more at peace. Tech devices amp up anxiety. We keep checking them to see what we’re missing, what we need to attend to, what dares to be happening without my most significant and indispensable input! A 2015 study found that 64% of people surveyed would give up dining out, 51% would give up a pet, 50% would give up vacation, 51% would give up a day off every week, and 38% would give up sex for a year…rather than give up their cell phone (in Thomas Friedman, “Thank You for Being Late,” 121). That powerful little computer in my hand is wonderful in many ways, no doubt about it, but let yourself become beholden to it and you rob yourself of a large measure of marvel in creation and the peace God offers.

“I know all the birds of the hills” (Psalm 50:11). He saw the splashing robin, and me with all the worries I lug around. Are you, “casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you”? (1 Peter 5:7). Says your Savior, “Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?” (Matthew 6:26).

“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble” (34)

The Meyer Minute for March 27, 2017

Yesterday I preached at Park View Lutheran Church, a few miles north of Davenport, Iowa, where the most encouraging part of my day was Bible Class. What encouraged me as I sat in the back of a room full of people, about 60 people from their thirties to eighties, was listening as they talked about the day’s topic.  

And they talked! The topic was purpose in life, and their study guide was a book called “Being Lutheran” by A. Trevor Sutton. The book, I hasten to add for non-Lutherans, is as much about the Bible as about denominational distinctives. Here’s a sentence from the discussion guide that summarizes the class: “Receiving Christ’s forgiveness is the only way we can be saved. Therefore, all legitimate vocations are equal before God (farmer, mechanic, doctor, pastor, soldier, stay-at-home mom, student, musician, garbage collector, lawyer, burger flipper, Wal-Mart greeter, etc.).” That was the class content, but it was no lecture. Pastor Peter Hoft put out the questions, let people share their views, and masterfully kept the discussion on topic.

The Bible Class came between the worship services, where I preached. Worship is less interactive than discussion. Yes, hymns and liturgy express the thoughts, feelings and beliefs of people, but it’s ritualized. The more spontaneous talk comes from the clergy up front. It’s easy to carry that over to the rest of the church’s life, that the pastor dominates, but “All legitimate vocations are equal before God.” What is called “the priesthood of all believers” was on display in that Bible class, people sharing their views on faith in daily life and together being the church. That you, Park View, for the encouragement! Monday goes better when Sunday has been blessed, and mine was.

The Meyer Minute for March 24, 2017

Will you wonder about Jesus today? Jesus has already set things in motion in your life. Will you see His actions playing out as you go about today’s tasks?

After Jesus gave sight to a man born blind, the Gospel lesson appointed for this coming Sunday, He seems to have withdrawn from view. He let people react to what He had done. The friends of the blind man wondered if this really was the man they had known. The man born blind assured them he was, that Jesus had given him sight, but beyond that he didn’t know much more about Jesus. The Pharisees were flummoxed because Jesus hadn’t conformed to their doctrinal rigidity. After their task force investigated, they kicked the man out of church for assuming they of all people would know Jesus. Read John 9; watch people in the various scenes. Jesus got something started and we watch how people react.

Of all the characters in this story, only the man given sight stayed focused on Jesus. Everyone else was plodding along with their opinions of events and church. Only this man knew Jesus had done something special in his life. He’s the one to whom Jesus came with further sight, deeper spiritual seeing. “Jesus heard that they had cast him out, and having found him he said, ‘Do you believe in the Son of Man?’ He answered, ‘And who is he, sir, that I might may believe in him?’ Jesus said to him, ‘You have seen him, and it is he who is speaking to you.’ He said, ‘Lord, I believe,’ and he worshiped him” (John 9:35-38). You won’t physically see Jesus today, but will the things Jesus has started in your life prompt you to learn more from Him today?

The Meyer Minute for March 22, 2017

If your eyes and ears are open, you may have noticed that people are searching for their identity. Who am I, really? So, for example, there are commercials promising DNA will tell you who you are. Another example, over 50 so-called genders have been identified, people trying to find who they are. There are indeed many aspects to identity, but followers of Jesus receive our most important essential identity as we watch and hear Him on the cross. He identifies us as forgiven.

Two things as your eyes and ears are on the cross. First, it amps up your guilty feelings. Guilt is part of who we all are.  Jesus isn’t dying to, say, save the whales or stop global warning. He’s dying for you, for me. So looking at Jesus on the cross can make you feel more guilty, like looking at someone you’ve seriously wronged. But, here’s the second thing, ponder Jesus on the cross and you hear He died for your sin. He pays the price of your sin. That thing that you’d like to go back and do over, that sin that keeps you awake at night?  That’s the sin He’s paying for. That’s what God intends His law to do in us: to amp up our guilt so that we turn to Jesus as our only hope for forgiveness and a fresh start, the Good News. Who am I? Forgiven.

What’s different about the Gospel from so many other searches for identity is that forgiveness comes from outside us. Forgiveness is not in you; it comes from outside to you, from God, from heaven, from the cross, from Jesus’ words, “Father, forgive Dale or Sally or Joe or you.” From outside into you, so watch and listen. Lent keeps forming you as a follower of Jesus.

The Meyer Minute for March 21, 2017

At the end of the work day… I hasten to add that my work was not all done. At the end of yesterday’s work day I sat out in the yard. Yesterday in St. Louis was a great day to be out. The thermometer hit 85. The branches on the trees still look like sticks, but not bare. You can see buds promising the leaves to come. From my Adirondack chair… That’s amazing in itself, me sitting in the midst of creation. From that chair I saw hyacinths and daffodils in bloom; tulips are coming. The warm weather encouraged the hostas to pop out of the ground. No book in my hand, no iPhone… it was a spiritual time.

Robins all around looking for worms. An occasional rat-a-tat-a-tat from woodpeckers. Blue jays screeching. Are the hawks around? The jays alert one another to danger. And a bit later in the day, the sun down, you hear the owls hooting. Speaking of the dark… the sky was cloudless. In nighttime darkness, you can see stars. True, not as many as you see in the country because of city lights, but even what you see prompts the question of Isaiah, “Lift up your eyes on high and see: Who created these?” (40:26).

You and I live in a time of immense cultural change. Technology outpaces our ability to keep up. Who am I? We’ve lost our sense of place in the great scheme of things. Creation is a place to regain that sense of who we are. God has placed us in His creation, and in His Son He recreates us to know that we are His beloved creatures. Sooner or later, spring will come to where you live. Take a pew in the cathedral of creation. “This is my Father’s world.”

The Meyer Minute for March 20, 2017

“If your bracket is busted…” The commentator was making a pitch for something or other, and of course he was speaking the truth. My bracket was definitely busted. Villanova lost. So did Notre Dame and Wichita State, and those were just my more notable mistakes.

Sports is a metaphor for life, and busted brackets remind us that life often doesn’t turn out the way we plan. Sometimes the disappointments are severe; other times more middling. You get over some disappointments; you put them out of your mind.  Other disappointments cut to your heart. Do they scar over, you grieve your loss but move on? Or do the deep cuts embitter you? I’ve met people in both categories but feel most sorry for those stuck in bitterness.

We all fear failure. Sometimes the reason is that we’d be shamed to let other people down. “I’m not pulling my weight for my family.” Other times we dread falling short of our own idealism. Is there any of us who doesn’t sometimes put on the brave face? Superficial. Beneath is the deep spiritual cause: we want to think we’re as good as God, idolize ourselves. Our original sin comes out as “invincible me,” but failure threatens us as the fallible people we are. Busted.

I wondered out loud to Diane if anyone has ever gotten their brackets completely correct. She said, “Never.” Metaphor for life: “Surely there is not a righteous man on earth who does good and never sins” (Ecclesiastes 7:20). Jesus did more than die for our sins. He kept the commandments of God perfectly. That’s called His “active obedience.” He got His “brackets” right, every last one of them, and gives you the benefits of His perfection. Are you in His group? In Him “we are more than conquerors” (Romans 8:37).

The Meyer Minute for March 15, 2017

“Our captors required of us songs, and our tormentors, mirth, saying ‘Sing us one of the songs of Zion” (Psalm 137:3). That psalm tells of ancient Israel in exile in Babylonia, dragged away from what they had known to live in a strange land that did not share their religion and God. What did the Babylonians want from God’s people? Songs of mirth, occasions for joy.

Is it any different in today’s post-church America? Professor Mark Seifrid writes that people have “discovered many gods. Whatever works for you!” “Human hearts remain captivated by the gods of power, pleasure, wealth, and success.” But this idolatry comes with a price. “Our remarkable prosperity creates burdens for us,” “burdens that we were not created to bear.” Depression can result because we can’t live up to all that this culture tells us we should be. Isolation and loneliness are common because many families have broken down and our lives in society are so fragmented. “Life becomes meaningless.” The many gods our contemporaries pursue means no God at all. “It is necessary to first speak the demand of God to our contemporaries, and to do so in terms that they will understand, especially now in terms of the personal identity, worth, and value as persons that we all seek.”  God’s demand is “the final coming judgment—a judgment that has taken place already in the cross of Jesus.”Our Lent heads toward Easter and joy without end, but many Americans live in a sad season with no hope. Though they don’t yet see it that way, they are saying to us, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion.”

Thanks to Pastor Barry Keurulainen for the comparison between Psalm 137 and today. Professor Seifrid’s article is in the Concordia Journal, pages 29-42.

The Meyer Minute for March 14, 2017

A pastor preparing for a funeral has asked about a story I shared long ago. I first heard it as a child from my pastor, Arthur A. Brauer.

An older man was talking with a young man who had just graduated from high school. “Congratulations! What are you going to do now?” “I’m going to go to college and get a good education.” “Excellent! Then what?”

“Then I’ll go to law school and become a lawyer. I’ll work hard and get a reputation as the best lawyer around.” “Excellent, I wish you well. Then what?”

“After I’ve established my practice, I’ll get married, we’ll have children, and have a good family.” “And then?”

“Well, after the children are raised, I’ll retire, we’ll travel around the country and do the things we couldn’t do when we were busy working and raising a family.” “I wish you well. Then what?”

For the first time the young man didn’t know what to say. Finally, he stuttered out, “I guess I’ll die.” “And then what?”

As this story was told to me, both the old man and the young man were church members. Both would have known that Jesus died for their sins, but only one knew that there was more to the story of our lives. Today many congregations see vitality slipping away, their church in slow decline. The culture that surrounds us is obsessed about the here-and-now and we’ve stopped talking about the long view. Might the church, for its own sake and for the sake of its witness, lead people to think about the question, “And then what?”