Author: Les Shultz

Thoughts from here and there…Reflections for a Father’s Day

A young pastor was visiting one of his church families. The father launched into a long lament about how difficult it was to be a good parent in our high-pressure, high-speed society. Finally the pastor said, “You are right, but there is only one thing harder than being a parent today, and that is being a child.”

The young daughter, who had been listening immediately responded, “You’re right!”

It’s tough being a father. It has always been tough to be a father. Fatherhood does not end when our children become adults. You may decide to relate to your children on an adult-to-adult basis, but you never stop being a father. You continue to be a fatherly role model all the rest of your life.

As a pastor I truly know how tough it is. Very often, when my children were small, I served a three or four point charge. One year I drove 60,000 miles attempting to provide pastoral services and care to three churches in the lower third of the Sate of Vermont. Most of the time the children were in bed asleep before I got home. I still took a day off a week for family activities.

I have tried to do a better job with our grandchildren. On occasion Helga and I have had one of them stay with us for a night or two. We have done the usual grandparent things: trips to the zoo, to the Betty Brinn Children’s Museum, McDonald’s or Chuckie Cheese. On one occasion we decided to take Danissa to Karl Ratsch’s Restaurant. Helga explained a little what our granddaughter would find in the restaurant.

One of the most satisfying and rewarding experiences has been to read a story at bedtime. To say goodnight with a kiss, and “I love you.”

It is important to stay connected. In a scene from the summer 1991 movie “The Doctor”: William Hurt portrays a cynical, successful heart surgeon whose life attitude is turned around by his own bout with cancer. When he comes home unexpectedly in the middle of the day to be with his family, his wife calls to their young son playing outside, “Come in and say hello to your father.” The boy races into the room without even noticing his father standing at the other end. Automatically his son picks up the phone, “Hi Dad…hello, hello…” Then turning to his mother, he says, “Well, Mom, we must have got cut off…” Stay engaged and stay connected. It’s worth every minute of it.

A story that impressed me comes from Mother Theresa.

Mother Theresa remembers one of the sisters, who had just graduated from the university. She came from a well-to-do family that lived outside India.

She writes: “According to our rule, the very next day after joining our society, the postulants must go to the home for the dying destitute in Calcutta. Before this sister went, I told her, ‘You saw the priest during the Mass, with what love, with what delicate care he touched the body of Christ. Make sure you do the same thing when you get to the home because Jesus is there in a distressing disguise.’

“So she went, and after three hours, she came back. That girl from the university, who had seen and understood so many things, came to my room with such a beautiful smile on her face. She said, ‘For three hours I’ve been touching the body of Christ!’

“And I said, ‘What did you do? What happened?’

“She said, ‘They brought a man from the street who had fallen into a drain and had been there for some time. He was covered with maggots and dirt and wounds. And though I found it very difficult, I cleaned him, and I knew I was touching the body of Christ!’

“She knew!”

What kindness! What compassion! What love! What delicate, yet powerful love. What would happen to you and me if we could develop the delicate, yet powerful love that is expressed in this story. How our relationships would change. What impact would that have upon our community of the faithful? Well, you know the answer to that question just as well as I do. And when you stop and think about it, isn’t this that to which Jesus is calling us? Of course it is. And, given the opportunity, he can help us produce it.

Thoughts from there and there…Defining Purpose

I was asked what was the purpose of the “Christianity?” In answer to the question I said, “The purpose of Christianity is to recreate in human beings the image of God in all its fullness, and to prepare us for immortality.” The church and family are the primary places where this purpose is realized.

This I might also ask you to consider this question: “What is the purpose of the family?” I use the word “family” in its broadest context. The question might be answered in this way: “The purpose of the family is to provide a place where adults and children may grow and realize human maturity in all its fullness, and prepare them for life.” But and this is a rather large “but,” who decides the meaning of maturity?

In the context of the Christian, this question is answered by God. The Apostle Paul writes about the gifts that are given to the people in the church by saying “that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the measure of the full stature of Christ. We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, by people’s trickery, by their craftiness in deceitful scheming. But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, (Ephesians 4:11b-15a, NRSV).

This demonstrates that only God can define maturity. We cannot because we do not have the wisdom nor the skills to be able to do so. I know that there are people who will argue with me on this point, but consider this: Only God can clearly evaluate who and what we truly are, and God has a lot to say about the limitations of human mind and will.

If we are going to help our children to grow up to be children of God, responsible citizens, realizing their fullest potential for mental and physical growth, there is an important principle that we ought to keep in mind. One of the most important understandings that may be achieved is this: That there is no one fixed point when a human being may rest and say I have arrived. John Powell in “Why Am I Afraid to Tell You Who I Am,” draws this conclusion:

“There is no fixed, true and real person inside of you or me, precisely because being a person necessarily implies becoming a person, being in process. If I am anything as a person it is what I think judge feel value honor esteem like love hate fear desire hope for believe in and am committed to. These are the things that define my person, and they are constantly in process, in the process of change. Unless my mind and heart are hopelessly barricaded, all these things that define me as a person are forever changing.”

If we will embrace it, this defines the purpose of the family. It helps us to better understand parenthood. It takes a lot of wisdom, insight, and good old fashioned hard work to be a parent, not only in 2004, but at anytime before now.

This is the point that Morris L. West attempted to make in his famous book, “the Shoes of the Fisherman.” He wrote:

“It costs too much to be a full human being that there are very few who have the enlightenment or the courage, to pay the price…One has to abandon altogether the search for security, and reach out to the risk of living with both arms. One has to embrace the world like a lover. One has to accept pain as a condition of existence. One has to court doubt and darkness as the cost of knowing. One needs a will stubborn in conflict, but apt always to total acceptance of every consequence of living and dying,” Morris L. West in The Shoes of the Fisherman.

Rather than seeking to protect our children from that which we believe to be harmful to them and detrimental to their growth, we should seek to equip them with the knowledge, and role models that will help them to be able to successfully meet the challenges that they will face.

The way of God is from closed to open. Ronald M. Paterson of Dayton, Ohio writes that he heard a woman talking about her fears for our nation. “One of the things she said was that the loudest and most painful noise she hears in our beloved country is the sound of minds snapping shut all over America. Her point was that too many of us are becoming people whose minds are closed and whose opinions are set in a sort of fatal concrete which threatens to sink the fragile nature of our democracy. She pointed out that this beloved ship floats on the willingness of diverse people to work with one another despite their differences of opinion, to find ways to get along with one another.

Do you remember Jesus seeking out strangers and the outcast? Do you remember the unconditional love which he showed and which he commanded of those who followed him? The way of God is the path which leads people to work together for the common good.”

I believe the point to be made is that openness is not fickleness or being flighty. Openness is openness to ways in which the spirit of God is seeking to lead us to a broader understanding of Christian principles and ideals than we may have at the present moment. To be closed-minded to have one’s mind made-up and nothing, education or experience can open it.

During May we observe important days of commemoration or remembrance including: May Day, Mother’s Day, Cinco de Mayo, National Maritime Day, and Memorial Day. Rather than hardening minds and opinions, let us recognize the benefits that have been ours and instead of focusing on our differences, celebrate our common joys.

Tale of the unknown Mother

A friend of mine went to the County Clerk s office to renew her driver s license. ‘Do you have a job, or are you just a…?’ the recorder asked her.

“My friend, fuming, snapped: ‘Of course I have a job. I m a mother.

“The recorder replied, ‘We don t list “mother” as an occupation. “Housewife” covers it.

“I found myself in the same situation one day when I was at our own town hall. The clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high-sounding title, like ‘Official Interrogator or ‘Town Registrar.

“She asked, ‘And what is your occupation?

“The words popped out of my mouth: ‘I m a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations.

“The clerk paused, pen frozen in midair. I repeated the title slowly. The clerk wrote my pompous title in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.

“The clerk said, ‘Might I ask just what you do in your field?

“I replied, ‘I have a continuing program of research in the laboratory and in the field. I m working for my Masters (the whole family) and already have four credits (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities, and I often work 14 hours a day. But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are in satisfaction rather than just money.’

“There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk s voice. She completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.

“As I drove into our driveway buoyed by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants—ages 13, 7, and 3. And upstairs, I could hear our new experimental model (six months old) in the child-development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.

“I felt triumphant. I had scored a beat on bureaucracy. And I had gone down on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to society than ‘just another…

“Home—what a glorious career! Especially when there s a title on the door.”

“If you find serenity and happiness, some people may be jealous. Be happy anyway —Mother Teresa
The article by an unknown mother is reprinted with permission of the newsletter From the Ranch. Copyright © The Joyful Noiseletter, May 2001, page 5, Used with permission

Former Yale chaplain and seminary president John W. Vannorsdall writes that for him “one of the meanings of Christmas is that God does not want to hurt me, or you.”

In spite of the fact that “God must watch his whales die, and our submarines increase,” God comes to us with the message of love, not wrath. “That’s why it seems so remarkable to me that when God comes to speak God’s Word to us, that Word becomes a child.

A child announced by singing, not by thunder. A child born by lamplight in silent night, rather than a Word which shakes the mountains, pouring rivers of unstoppable fire down every side. The Word becomes a child, which can be received and cannot hurt us: a Word which does not make us afraid.

I am prepared for the anger of God, and believe that God has a right to wrath. What is so amazing is that when God comes among us, whatever God’s hurt and indignation, God comes not with violence but with love, even as a child vulnerable to our further hurt.”

I hope that you enjoy this very meaningful and beautiful meditation as much as I do.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

Thoughts from here and There…The Blessing of Thorns

I read this story with a great deal of personal emotion and gratitude. It is not a fun story. It is sort of sad, but it is a story with a happy ending. I do not know the source. Please read and find your place in the story of the Blessing of the Thorns. Pastor Shultz

Sandra felt as low as the heels of her shoes as she pushed against a November gust and the florist shop door. Her life had been easy, like a spring breeze. Then in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a minor automobile accident stole her ease.

During this Thanksgiving week she would have delivered a son. She grieved over her loss. As if that weren’t enough, her husband’s company threatened a transfer. Then her sister, whose annual holiday visit she coveted, called saying she could not come.

What’s worse, Sandra’s friend infuriated her by suggesting her grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who suffer. “She has no idea what I’m feeling,” thought Sandra with a shudder.

“Thanksgiving? Thankful for what?” she wondered aloud. For a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? For an airbag that saved her life but took that of her child?

“Good afternoon, can I help you?” The shop clerk’s approach startled her.

“I…I need an arrangement,” stammered Sandra, “for Thanksgiving?”

“Do you want beautiful but ordinary, or would you like to challenge the day with a customer favorite I call the Thanksgiving Special?” asked the shop clerk. “I’m convinced that flowers tell stories,” she continued. “Are you looking for something that conveys gratitude this Thanksgiving?

“Not exactly!” Sandra blurted out. “In the last five months, everything that could go wrong has gone wrong. ” Sandra regretted her outburst, and was surprised when the shop clerk said, “I have the perfect arrangement for you.”

Then the door’s small bell rang, and the shop clerk said, “Hi Barbara…let me get your order.” She politely excused herself and walked toward a small workroom, then quickly reappeared, carrying an arrangement of greenery, bows, and long-stemmed thorny roses.

Except the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped…there were no flowers.

“Want this in a box?” asked the clerk.

Sandra watched for the customer’s response. Was this a joke? Who would want rose stems with no flowers!?! She waited for laughter, but neither woman laughed.

“Yes, please.” Barbara replied with an appreciative smile.

“You’d think after three years of getting the special, I wouldn’t be so moved by its significance, but I can feel it right here, all over again,” she said as she gently tapped her chest.

“Uh,” stammered Sandra, “that lady just left with, uh…she just left with no flowers!”

“Right…I cut off the flowers. That’s the Special…I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet.

“Oh, come on, you can’t tell me someone is willing to pay for that?” exclaimed Sandra.

“Barbara came into the shop three years ago feeling very much like you feel today,” explained the clerk. “She thought she had very little to be thankful for. She had lost her father to cancer, the family business was failing, her son was into drugs, and she was facing major surgery.”

“That same year I had lost my husband, “continued the clerk,” and for the first time in my life, I had to spend the holidays alone. I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too great a debt to allow any travel.

“So what did you do?” asked Sandra. “I learned to be thankful for thorns,” answered the clerk quietly. “I’ve always thanked God for good things in life and never thought to ask Him why those good things happened to me, but when bad stuff hit, did I ever ask! It took time for me to learn that dark times are important. I always enjoyed the ‘flowers’ of life, but it took thorns to show me the beauty of God’s comfort. You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when we’re afflicted, and from His consolation we learn to comfort others.”

Sandra sucked in her breath as she thought about the very thing her friend had tried to tell her. “I guess the truth is I don’t want comfort. I’ve lost a baby and I’m angry with God.”

Just then someone else walked in the shop.

“Hey, Phil!” shouted the clerk to the balding, rotund man.

“My wife sent me in to get our usual Thanksgiving arrangement…twelve thorny, long-stemmed stems!” laughed Phil as the clerk handed him a tissue-wrapped arrangement from the refrigerator.

“Those are for your wife?” asked Sandra incredulously. “Do you mind me asking why she wants something that looks like that?

“No…I’m glad you asked,” Phil replied. “Four years ago my wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years, we were in a real mess, but with the Lord’s grace and guidance, we slogged through problem after problem. He rescued our marriage. Jenny here (the clerk) told me she kept a vase of rose stems to remind her of what she learned from “thorny” times, and that was good enough for me. I took home some of those stems. My wife and I decided to label each one for a specific “problem” and give thanks to Him for what that problem taught us.”

As Phil paid the clerk, he said to Sandra, “I highly recommend the Special!”

“I don’t know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life.” Sandra said to the clerk. “It’s all too…fresh.”

“Well,” the clerk replied carefully, “my experience has shown me that thorns make roses more precious. We treasure God’s providential care more during trouble than at any other time. Remember, it was a crown of thorns that Jesus wore so we might know His love. Don’t resent the thorns.”

Tears rolled down Sandra’s cheeks. For the first time since the accident, she loosened her grip on resentment. “I’ll take those twelve long-stemmed thorns, please,” she managed to choke out.

“I hoped you would,” said the clerk gently. “I’ll have them ready in a minute.”

“Thank you. What do I owe you?” asked Sandra.

“Nothing.” said the clerk. “Nothing but a promise to allow God to heal your heart. The first year’s arrangement is always on me.” The clerk smiled and handed a card to Sandra. “I’ll attach this card to your arrangement, but maybe you’d like to read it first.”

It read: “Dear God, I have never thanked you for my thorns. I have thanked you a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorns. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear; teach me the value of my thorns. Show me that I have climbed closer to you along the path of pain. Show me that, through my tears, the colors of your rainbow look much more brilliant.”

Unthanked people

(Just in time for Thanksgiving, Rev. Brian Cavanaugh, TOR, of the Franciscan University in Steubenville, OH relayed the following reflection on “Unthanked people” via e-mail from Steve Goodier.)

When William Stidger taught at Boston University, he once reflected upon the great number of unthanked people in his life. People who had helped nurture him, inspire him or cared enough about him to leave a lasting impression.

“One was a schoolteacher he’d not heard of in many years. But he remembered that she had gone out of her way to put a love of poetry in him, and he had loved poetry all his life. He wrote a letter of thanks to her.

“The reply he received, written in the feeble scrawl of the aged, began, ‘My dear Willie.’ He was delighted. Now over 50, bald and a professor, he didn’t think there was a person left in the world who would call him ‘Willie.’ Here is a copy of that letter:

“‘My dear Willie, I cannot tell you how much your note meant to me. I am in my eighties, living alone in a small room, cooking my own meals, lonely and, like the last leaf of autumn, lingering behind. You will be interested to know that I taught school for 50 years and yours is the first note of appreciation I ever received. It came on a blue-cold morning and it cheered me as nothing has in many years.’

“Not prone to cry easily, Stidger wept over that note. She was one of the great unthanked people from Stidger’s past. You know them. We all do. The teacher who made a difference. That coach we’ll never forget. The music instructor or Sunday school worker who helped us to believe in ourselves. That Scout leader who cared.

“We all remember people who shaped our lives in various ways. People whose influence changed us. Will Stidger found a way to show his appreciation—he wrote them letters.

“Who are some of the unthanked people from your past? It may not be too late to say, ‘Thanks.”‘

Thoughts from here and There…Lord, Prop Us Up

Every time Mike Atkinson is asked to pray, he thinks of the old deacon who always prayed, ‘Lord, prop us up on our leanin’ side.’

“After hearing him pray that prayer many times, someone asked him why he prayed that prayer so fervently.

“He answered, ‘Well sir, you see, it’s like this…I got an old barn out back. It’s been there a long time. It’s withstood a lot of weather. It’s gone through a lot of storms, and it’s stood for many years. It’s still standing, but one day I noticed it was leaning to one side a bit. So I went and got some pine poles and propped it up on its leaning side so it wouldn’t fall.

“‘Then I got to thinking ’bout that and how much I was like that old barn. I been around a long time, I’ve withstood a lot of life’s storms, I’ve withstood a lot of bad weather in life, I’ve withstood a lot of hard times, and I’m still standing, too. But I find myself leaning to one side from time to time, so I like to ask the Lord to prop us up on our leanin’ side, ’cause I figure a lot of us get to leaning, at times.'”

If you have to lean try, as the song says, “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.” It helps to remember that one of the great props is thanksgiving. To help you not to lean to much to one side or the other express your gratitude to God for all his blessings, and to your family and friends for all the times that they have been a help and encouragement to you.

Thoughts from here and There…Doing the Laundry of Life

I enjoy humor and am ready to laugh, sometimes in the most inopportune time. This one came from Crosswalk.com. Housework Challenged

One day my housework-challenged husband decided to wash his sweatshirt.

Seconds after he stepped into the laundry room, he shouted to me, “What setting do I use on the washing machine?”

“It depends,” I replied. “What does it say on your shirt?”

He yelled back, “University of Wisconsin.”

Now you know that the wife assumed that her husband could read the label that in on each garment providing washing instructions. The husband does not know this. So there is this humorous mis-communication.

Sometimes mis-communication may be less than humorous. God speaks. What do we know of his message? What’s involved in more than washing a sweatshirt, it is washing a life and preparing it for the family reunion.

It is important to take the time, make the effort to listen to God, apply his cleaning fluids, and never relax until we see him face to face.

Happy cleaning.