The Meyer Minute

The Meyer Minute for October 27, 2017

“Hi, Christian! Still got the boot on?” “Yeah, Opa. The doctor said a couple more weeks.” “That’s been a really bummer, fracturing your growth plate. I’m sorry.”

“Your mom says you didn’t get to go to nationals?”  “CCLS (Christ Community Lutheran School) qualified for the nationals in cross-country. I would have run but this boot kept me from going.” “Were they held at Concordia University Wisconsin?” “Yeah, Opa, and I really wanted to go there and run, right by Lake Michigan.”

“Dealing with some major disappointment here, aren’t we?” “Yeah.”

“Soccer too?” “Opa, I don’t even want to be going to the games if I can’t be playing with my team.” “I betcha Aaron Rodgers of the Packers is feeling the same way, out for the season.” “Probably.”

“If God is good, and we believe He is, then there must be something good in all this.” “You think?”

“Disappointments remind us that we’re not superheroes. Remember when you were smaller, you pretended to be some superhero? We all get older and find out that we’re not, that we have limits. Physically we can’t do everything. Emotionally we can’t always get what we’d like to have. It’s part of growing up. When you believe that God is good and always present to help… And I know you’ve learned that, Christian. You hear it in church and school. You’re assured of it in Communion… Then disappointments are times of maturing in faith and trust.”

“I know, but it still hurts.” “I just hope you’ll think it through theologically, faith-wise. The Bible says a righteous person ‘is not afraid of bad news; his heart is firm, trusting the Lord’” (Psalm 112:7). Getting into that frame of mind takes as much effort as running a race. You’ll be playing basketball, right?” “Sure hope so, Opa.”

The Meyer Minute for October 25, 2017

My cup of coffee this morning was in a new cup, a gift from St. Salvator Lutheran Church. It’s where Diane and I began in ministry 43 years ago, dear then and still dear to us today. St. Salvator is celebrating its 175^th anniversary, and the coffee cup set me to thinking about the changes we’ve seen in our lives.

When we started in Venedy and New Memphis in 1974 – it was a dual parish, but we lived in Venedy, a town of about 125 located some 50 miles southeast of St. Louis – there was no desk in the pastor’s study in the parsonage, no desk chair, and my typewriter was manual, the little blue portable typewriter I had used in college and seminary, a “Royal,” I think. Not having a desk, I had the typewriter on a wobbly TV tray table and my chair was Grandpa Meyer’s old, old rocker. It was hard to type in a rocking chair, but I liked the rocker and we didn’t have many chairs. In time Ed and Evelyn Borrenpohl donated a real desk and chair, nice and new. Then the church got a Selectric typewriter. It had a type ball that you could change when you wanted to change the font. It wasn’t just sermons that were typed there; I did the bulletin myself the first years. Ran them off on the mimeograph. Diane and I folded them by hand Saturday afternoon. Some of my bulletins looked so bad that the congregation eventually paid Joyce Borrenpohl to become part-time secretary.  The progress we thought we were making!

Says Ray Kurzweil of Google: “The 21^st century will be equivalent to 20,000 years of progress at today’s rate of progress.”

Moral of my Venedy reminiscence: I see in our seminarians that God is raising up a new generation in His Church, a generation at home with the changes that befuddle older people. Congratulations, St. Salvator!

The Meyer Minute for October 20, 2017

This morning I’m getting in a van with eight seminarians and two professors to drive to western Iowa. It’s an “immersion trip,” future pastors getting out of the classroom to see first-hand how the mission of Jesus is moving forward in our world.

Our first destination is “Mission Central.” This afternoon our van rolls into the little town of Mapleton, Iowa. I suspect the students will wonder, “Where in the world are we going? This doesn’t look like an immersion into missions!” It gets more intriguing. We drive through little Mapleton and out into the country. With nothing around, we finally pull into a cluster of old farm buildings. This is it, “Mission Central,” and director Gary Thies welcomes us to begin an evening and morning of laying on the seminarians’ hearts the urgency of telling people about Jesus. It will be an eye-opening experience for them. The other professors and I have been there before but we keep coming back because the trip never fails to stimulate us. So much in the church these days seems so lethargic; this trip always inspires us.

Back in the van tomorrow afternoon, we drive to St. John’s Lutheran Church, 13 miles out of Columbus, Nebraska. When we arrive, it will be dark. Church members graciously give us an evening meal in the church basement. Several years ago one of our students asked a church member about the town. “There is no town,” came the answer. Sure enough, the next morning you’ll see the church surrounded on all sides by farm fields. Yet this church is filled every Sunday with people of all ages, some 300 coming every Sunday to worship. Pastor Brad Birtell will tell us how it’s happening.

That’s what I’m doing this weekend, getting charged-up for the mission of Jesus. I hope you in your own way will too!

The Meyer Minute for October 18, 2017

One of my favorite passages is Deuteronomy 33:27. “The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms.”

“The eternal God,” is says. Eternal – God has no beginning and no end. “Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations” (Psalm 90:1). Through the centuries, God has seen it all. Why not ask Him for help with your problems?

“The eternal God is your dwelling place.” Why not flee to a safe place? Why not take your heart and thoughts to Him? He’s “Our shelter from the stormy blast, / And our eternal home.” He’s just waiting to welcome you so that you feel finally at home. In His house you know that all will turn out well.

“Underneath are the everlasting arms.” Does God have arms? No, not until He decided to help us and send His Son into our flesh. Jesus stretched out His arms on the cross to pay for your sins. Today those arms of Jesus are open to you. “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

His arms are everlasting – again, your eternal God. “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades” (Revelation 1:17-18).

Those arms are underneath. Feel the lift! “I was pushed hard, so that I was falling, but the Lord helped me. The Lord is my strength and my son” (Psalm 118:13-14). Like the toddler you swoop up to hold before your smiling face, the Savior’s everlasting arms uplift you to the countenance of your loving Father.

“Faint not nor fear, His arms are near; / He changes not, who holds you dear;

Only believe, and you will see / That Christ is all eternally.”(Lutheran Service Book, 664, 4)

The Meyer Minute for October 16, 2017

You know, or at least have some deep down apprehension, that the world is spinning out of control. It is, and I read a disturbing damage report in yesterday’s “New York Times Magazine.”

“Anxiety is the most common mental-health disorder in the United States, affecting nearly one-third of both adolescents and adults, according to the National Institute of Mental Health. But unlike depression, with which it routinely occurs, anxiety is often seen as a less serious problem.” Author Benoit Denizet-Lewis presents Jake as one example of this exploding problem. Very gifted, outgoing, and driven to succeed, Jake seems to be what we hope for in the next generation. “Failure was one of Jake’s biggest fears. He worried about it privately; maybe he couldn’t keep up with his peers, maybe he wouldn’t succeed in life.” Then one day, “he refused to go to school and curled up in the fetal position on the floor. ‘I just can’t take it!’ He screamed. ‘You just don’t understand.’”

“In 1985, the Higher Education Research Institute at U.C.L.A. began asking incoming college freshmen if they ‘felt overwhelmed by all I had to do’ during the previous year. In 1985, 18 percent said they did. By 2010, that number had increased to 29 percent. Last year it surged to 41%” The well-researched article suggests several causes: Smart phones and similar devices, social media, the political climate in our country, and parents. “Anxious teenagers tend to come from anxious parents.”

That last source suggests older people scrutinize ourselves. Have we let the assurances of our heavenly Father’s care slip out of our own lives, to our own harm and to the harm of the next generation that learns from us? “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and up-location with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God” (Philippians 4:6). In anxiety we have a challenge of sanctification that has consequences.

The Meyer Minute for October 13, 2017

“They can’t even see the stars,” said the local TV reporter. She was talking about smoke in the air from the fires in California. I believe it. I’m near Sacramento, here with our Seminary team to present the Gospel of Mark this evening at Town and Country Lutheran Church. We are not near the fires, but smoke and smell is in the air. A few days ago our team leader, Dr. Beth Hoeltke, called the pastors and asked if we should cancel the presentation, but they said no, in all this it will be helpful to hear the Word. Ultimately we have only the Word: “This is My beloved Son. Hear Him!” (Mark 9:7).

Where there’s smoke there’s fire. “This is absolutely the worst fire I’ve ever seen in California,” says one firefighter. “I don’t know how to express how thankful I am,” said a 22-year-old who was rescued from life-threatening danger. “I’m worried about my grandma. I don’t know what life would be like without her,” said another young woman.” “The worst experience ever,” says another. Thank heaven for the firefighters and other first responders. Your spirit and willingness to brave danger cannot be thanked enough. The local news even carries a feature on the comfort dogs from Lutheran Church Charities.

Some friends in Southern California send me a photo of smoke billowing near their condo. A helicopter flew over, broadcasting evacuation orders. Out they went, a few things in hand, obedient to the word. Times come in life when you have to take the word to heart, and the Word to heart. “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24). “Hope in God; for I shall yet praise Him, the help of my countenance and my God” (Psalm 42:11). The stars will be seen again.

The Meyer Minute for October 11, 2017

The Meyer Minute for October 11, 2017

This morning Diane and I attend a prayer breakfast. While prayers are offered, smart phones are close, distracting us. Left your smart phone in the car? Good, but your mind may still be whirling; you’re flitting in and out of prayer to your God.

It’s like sitting in a meeting. The meeting has been called to order; I pay attention. When I think I can turn to papers or phone on my lap, I do it. Every so often I look up. See how I’m paying attention! But you’re not with them as much as you’re in your own silo. Head down. Oh, oh… peripheral vision catches the speaker looking at me, so of course I raise my head and look back. You see how engaged I am? Or I want you to think I am?

Prayer is like a meeting. You address God and the meeting begins, you and your God, but soon your mind addicted to multitasking goes off to other things. When the ‘meeting” adjourns, “Amen,” you haven’t accomplished the purpose of that meeting: an intimate, renewing time with your Father and your Savior.  Whose loss?

Dietrich Bonhoeffer: “It is one of the particular difficulties of meditation that our thoughts are likely to wander and go their own way, toward other persons or to some events in our life. Much as this may distress and shame us again and again, we must not lose heart and become anxious, or even conclude that meditation is really not something for us. When this happens it is often a help not to snatch back our thoughts convulsively, but quite calmly to incorporate into our prayer the people and the events to which our thoughts keep straying and thus in all patience return to the starting point of meditation.” (Life Together, 85)

The heavenly Father’s looking your way!

The Meyer Minute for October 9, 2017

Seminary professor Martin Scharlemann once said a pastor’s job is to interpret reality theologically. How shall we understand Las Vegas? The man was demented? Yes. Guns are a problem? Yes, but those aren’t theological. Jesus says, “Nothing is hidden except to be made manifest; nor is anything secret except to come to light” (Mark 4:22). What was deep down in Stephen Paddock came to light in a most terrible way. He was a fundamentally flawed man.

Deep down so are you and I. What is hidden and secret in you? Imagine if your deepest thoughts and feelings were to be revealed for all to know. How ashamed you and I would be! Sooner or later everything deep down will be revealed. “Nothing is hidden except to be made manifest; nor is anything secret except to come to light.” Paul says, “I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is in my flesh” (Romans 7:18). What is hidden and secret within you will be revealed. It may happen sooner; it certainly will happen later when you come before God. “No creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account” (Hebrews 4:13).

Therefore our hope and focus should be on Spirit of God who alone can change our deepest being. Here’s how. Jesus says, Pay attention to what you hear” (Mark 4:24). Martin Luther: What is meant by a “pure heart” is this: one that is watching and pondering what God says and replacing its own ideas with the Word of God. This alone is pure before God, yes, purity itself, which purifies everything that it includes and touches.” “Guard my first springs of thought and will / And with Thyself my spirit fill!” (Lutheran Service Book, 868, 4)

The Meyer Minute for October 6, 2017

Rummaging through an old book of sermon illustrations, I came across the following from a certain Dr. McConkey. His writing style is heavier than we’re used to in our texting and Twitter age, but there’s something else different.  

“The highway of consecration is the first sight which greets the believer’s eyes as he steps out from the crimson fountain which has cleansed his sin-stained soul. It confronts him like a great triumphal arch, opening into the pathway of his life of ministry. A pierced hand flings open its portals before his eyes. A voice from the Redeemer of his soul cries out, ‘I beseech you, present your body a living sacrifice.’ Its gates are crimsoned with the blood of Him who gave Himself for you. Its archway is empurpled with the rich clusters of fruitage the hidden Vine is seeking to bear through you, His yielding branch. It echoes with the shouts of victory of those who walk its blessed path. It is resplendent with the glory of God, which shines from the lives that walk therein in the light of His face. Oh, what a highway is this! Have you entered it?” (Concordia Pulpit, 1936; 62)

More simply put: You’re justified and now the way of sanctification opens before you. It’s Ephesians 2:8-10, not just saved by grace but doing the good works God has appointed us to do. Do you and I see our life in the thoroughly biblical and devotional way of old Dr. McConkey? “Its archway is empurpled with the rich clusters of fruitage the hidden Vine is seeking to bear through you, His yielding branch.” In Sunday’s Gospel Jesus warns those who don’t bear fruit in His vineyard: “The kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people producing its fruits” (Matthew 21:43). “Oh, what a highway is this! Have you entered it?”

 

The Meyer Minute for October 4, 2017

The news is always an invitation to reflect upon our human nature and God’s ways. Take “salvation” for example. What does that word really mean to people struggling to make it day-by-day? To lives swamped by the hurricanes, to family circles broken by the shooter… What does “salvation” mean?

Kathleen Norris is an insightful writer. In “Amazing Grace” she tells about an acquaintance who thought he could make some good money dealing drugs but got out when he discovered drug dealers would kill you if you got in their way. “‘I decided to get out,” he said. ‘This was over my head.’” And Kathleen Norris writes, “And that is salvation, or at least the beginning of it” (19-20).

Christians can talk about salvation as if it were some kind of airy, non-body experience, but that robs the Good News of its help when we’re hurting. The word “salvation” generally means preservation in danger and deliverance from impending death. The “savior” is the deliverer. “In Scripture, salvation often has the connotation of restoring a person to good health. Salvation also is used, however, in the sense of snatching someone from peril. It denotes deliverance from danger or removal of a person from a life-threatening situation.” (J.A.O. Preus, “Just Words,” 190).

From that basic use comes the Bible’s description of Jesus rescuing us from sin, death, and Satan, and winning for us forgiveness and eternal life. However, don’t let the eternal dimension of salvation cause us to forget salvation’s here-and-now implications. God so wants you to be His forever that His Spirit comes to be with you in whatever problems this sinful and broken world lays on you. That’s why Christian presence, comfort and good works are part of God’s way to hurting people. Salvation isn’t escaping problems; it’s our Savior’s presence guiding through them.