It’s Foundational

Fr. Martin Eppard

One of the things that I appreciate about Lent and Holy Week is its ability to bring us back to our foundation. The foundation of our Christian life—our walk with the Lord—is The Cross. The Cross of Jesus Christ is the place that our born again experience begins. It is there that we kneel and lay down the burden of sin. It is there we receive the forgiveness of sin and the cleansing of the Blood of Jesus. It is there that our journey begins.

Perhaps journey is the wrong word. Certainly the allegory worked in Pilgrim’s Progress, and I am certainly not knocking the model of journey, but during Lent I prefer to think of the Cross in terms of a foundation. The Cross is the foundation upon which the whole of our life, journey, pilgrimage is built. The point is that we build up from the foundation, not out from the foundation.
Have you ever seen a building that is larger at the top than at the bottom; a building that builds out rather than up? Every once in a while you will see a building where an architect has tried to defy the conventional wisdom and built out from the foundation. The result is almost always an eyesore. It usually will catch the attention of passersby but so does a car wreck. The reason for this is because there is an intrinsic, universal beauty to the cemetery and grace of a building built up from a solid foundation.

Now think about your own Christian life. Is it built up from the solid foundation of The Cross or is it like an inverted pyramid ready at any moment to topple over? Maybe the building of your life looks like some kind of a ramshackle hotchpotch of add-ons and overhangs. Maybe it looks like something from a Dr. Seuss book, leaning and wandering in every which-a-way. It starts at the cross and then goes this way or that way with what the Bible calls, “every wind of doctrine.” Maybe each latest Christian paperback book represents a new twist or turn in your construction project.

Only a building built on a sure foundation will stand the test of time and adversity. Lent reminds us that THE foundation is the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus, his passion—The Cross. Every Sunday we are called back to the cross as we “remember” the central events of our salvation. We are supposed to remember, return to, enter in, participate in the Cross. Yet so often we simply go through the motions.
Therefore the Lord gives us Lent. In essence Lent and Holy Week is a time to go down to the basement of your life and check the foundation. I have seen entire buildings dismantled at great expense and rebuilt because the foundation was “off”. Lent ensures that that doesn’t happen to us. It guarantees that we never get too far afield from the Cross. It invites us never to get so high, so lofty, so philosophical or theological that we lose sight of The Cross.

So Lent bids us “come down to the basement.” It calls us away from the solarium or the atrium of our life; the multi-tiered deck with Jacuzzi, the guestroom over the garage; and it calls us to spend time in the basement surveying the old foundation—the old rugged foundation. Come back to the foot of The Cross, the cross where you first saw the light. Survey that old rugged cross on which the Prince of Glory died. Don’t look for new revelations during Lent—it’s a time to return to your First Love, and to make the Cross central in your life—again.

Letting Go of Our Fear of God

Henri J.M. Nouwen
We are afraid of emptiness. Spinoza speaks about our "horror vacui," our horrendous fear of vacancy. We like to occupy-fill up-every empty time and space. We want to be occupied. And if we are not occupied we easily become preoccupied; that is, we fill the empty spaces before we have even reached them. We fill them with our worries, saying, "But what if ..."

It is very hard to allow emptiness to exist in our lives. Emptiness requires a willingness not to be in control, a willingness to let something new and unexpected happen. It requires trust, surrender, and openness to guidance. God wants to dwell in our emptiness. But as long as we are afraid of God and God's actions in our lives, it is unlikely that we will offer our emptiness to God. Let's pray that we can let go of our fear of God and embrace God as the source of all love.

Creating Space for God

Henri J.M. Nouwen
Discipline is the other side of discipleship. Discipleship without discipline is like waiting to run in the marathon without ever practicing. Discipline without discipleship is like always practicing for the marathon but never particip ating. It is important, however, to realize that discipline in the spiritual life is not the same as discipline in sports. Discipline in sports is the concentrated effort to master the body so that it can obey the mind better. Discipline in the spiritual life is the concentrated effort to create the space and time where God can become our master and where we can respond freely to God's guidance.

Thus, discipline is the creation of boundaries that keep time and space open for God. Solitude requires discipline, worship requires discipline, caring for others requires discipline. They all ask us to set apart a time and a place where God's gracious presence can be acknowledged and responded to.

Some Thoughts on L.E.N.T.

By Barbara Abshire
We all would like our Lenten season to be “meaningful.” But most often it speeds by and we feel like we’ve missed out on what it could have been. With that in mind, I’d like to offer this little acrostic that might help us all slow down a bit and get more out of this blessed season. None of them require large amounts of time. We needn’t go out in the desert for 40 days to have a good Lent. That has often been my problem—plans that were too lofty, making failure almost inevitable. So this year, I feel the Lord has suggested to me some smaller, reachable objectives. These I now offer to you.

L – Listen. If you’re like me, my prayer list grows longer with each passing day. There are just so many people and situations to take before the Lord. Intercession is a vital ministry we can and should all participate in, yet we can spend so much time talking to God that we can miss what He is saying. To make sure I’m available to hear that “still, small voice” this Lenten season, I’m going to sit in His presence quietly for a few minutes at the beginning of my usual prayer time. Having done it in the past, I can assure you that those brief moments of simply being in His presence can bring a great deal of peace-even if you don’t hear His voice.

E—Evaluate. In the very-hurried lifestyle that most of us lead, Lent can provide an opportunity to evaluate our life in terms of balance. In the life of our Lord, we get glimpses of Him putting balance in His life: Times of ministry followed by times alone in prayer; times teaching followed by times of refreshment in the mountains. If He had to do that, how much more do we. With a prayerful mindset, spend a little time taking stock of the balance in your own life: Too much work and not enough rest; too much public time and not enough private time, etc. Jot down what comes to mind (unless you are doing this while driving!). Use Lent to establish just one needed change. If nothing comes instantly to mind, your “listening time” with the Lord might.

N—Nurture. Lent is a traditional time for alms-giving. We usually think of that in terms of giving money to a charity, which is fine, but it could mean something else, as well. Perhaps there is a relationship in your life that you have neglected or a gift/talent that the Lord has been nudging you to use for His service. Lent could be the perfect time to make that date to visit, or nurture that gift by reading a book or talking with someone who has an anointing in a similar area.

T—Time. Time is a most precious gift. We never seem to have enough of it. This Lent, give your self the gift of time. Each of the other suggestions above take some time. Where will it come from? Since Lent is a season for self-denial, might I suggest what I am going to do. Just say “no” to one (yes, just one!) usual activity: That favorite weekly TV show, usual lunch in a crowded cafeteria, or that lost hour on the Internet. That would give each of us one hour each week, or 6 opportunities, to do something to make this Lenten season more meaningful –not because the Lord requires it, but because we need it.

Let’s keep in touch and see how these suggestions work for you. Blessings on your Lenten journey, Barbara

Thoughts on Casual Worship

Yesterday, I was driving by a church that had on its marquee the message “Casual Worship 9AM Chapel”. Something about this just immediately struck me as odd and even a bit bothersome. As I continued to think about it, I realized that it bothered me because there is nothing casual about worship! Now, I knew what they probably meant. They either were referring to dress code – meaning come casually dressed for worship or, perhaps, they were referring to a more contemporary style of worship. Seeing the term Contemporary Worship wouldn’t have elicited any kind of response from me because that phrase is used so much today to describe the kind of music that a church plays – contemporary vs. traditional. However, the use of the term “casual” has a very different connotation, in my mind. I thought of Isaiah when he saw the Lord sitting on a throne. There was definitely nothing casual about his response to that vision. The scripture says: “I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lifted up, and the train of His robe filled the temple. 2 Above it stood seraphim; each one had six wings: with two he covered his face, with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. 3 And one cried to another and said: ‘Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory!’ 4 And the posts of the door were shaken by the voice of him who cried out, and the house was filled with smoke. 5 So I said: ‘woe is me, for I am undone! Because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, The LORD of hosts.’”
There was certainly nothing casual about the encounter that Isaiah had. He was immediately faced with the reality of his situation and knew that he was an unclean man and he realized that everyone around him was in the same situation of being unclean before an almighty God. Reading further on in the passage it is clear that God’s mercy and forgiveness is needed before Isaiah can respond to the Lord. The Lord intervenes when the angel touches Isaiah’s mouth with the hot coal and his sin is purged. The purging of Isaiah’s sin allowed him to properly respond to the Lord. We also cannot come before the Lord in worship until there is a purging of sin, i.e. clean hands and a pure heart. Psalm 24 tells us that we cannot come before the Lord unless this is the case – “Who may ascend into the hill of the LORD? Or who may stand in His holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who has not lifted up his soul to an idol, nor sworn deceitfully.”

There is nothing casual about the worship of Almighty God. It may be contemporary, it may be loud or quiet, it may take on a charismatic appearance, it may even look chaotic from time to time, but it is not casual because no one can come before the Lord without clean hands and a pure heart. This is precisely why the Collect of Purity is recited at the beginning of worship. It is why we ask God to cleanse the thoughts of our hearts, so that we can WORTHILY magnify His Holy Name by saying with the angels: “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!”  by: Cathy Burke

The Intimacy of the Table

Since we are going to be using a book by Fr. Henri Nouwen for our Lenten Series Fr. Dean thought it might be helpful to post some devotions from Fr. Nouwen from time to time. These will be short, thought provoking pieces to help direct us on our journey.
I hope they are helpful to you. Fr. Martin +



The Intimacy of the Table: Henri Nouwen

The table is one of the most intimate places in our lives. It is there that we give ourselves to one another. When we say, "Take some more, let me serve you another plate, let me pour you another glass, don't be shy, enjoy it," we say a lot more than our words express. We invite our friends to become part of our lives. We want them to be nurtured by the same food and drink that nurture us. We desire communion. That is why a refusal to eat and drink what a host offers is so offensive. It feels like a rejection of an invitation to intimacy.Strange as it may sound, the table is the place where we want to become food for one another. Every breakfast, lunch, or dinner can become a time of growing communion with one another.

St. Valentine’s Day

It’s Valentine’s Day. A day for love and romance, for kindness and consideration, for expressions of appreciation. A day made just for flower venders, greeting card companies and restaurateurs. Some of you may think of it as an inconvenience for the added expense of gifts and dinner. As I was viewing the candy selection in the store today I noticed one section of candy made just for that person. Each heart-shaped box had a black and white photograph on it of some old curmudgeonly man. The accompanying slogans read, “Here’s your dang candy” or “I got you candy, what more do you want” and “the secret to a happy marriage is keep your mouth shut and bring home chocolate.”

It was a clever sales campaign but there was no way in the world I was bringing home one of those boxes of candy. I opted for a tradition box of chocolates and a nice dinner out. In 26 years of marriage I have learned a few things, and not trying to be clever on Valentine’s Day is one of them!

One thing that you don’t hear much about these days when it comes to St. Valentine’s Day is St. Valentine. Even the reference to “saint” in the name is usually dropped. The notion of romance and spring, and ancient pagan fertility overtones has certainly overshadowed the more tradition appreciation for the martyrdom of the ancient St. Valentinus.

Now, some of that is understandable. There is very little known about this saint and in actuality his feast day may actually encompass several martyrs who shared this once popular name. Dating to the Roman persecutions all that is really known is that a priest named Valentinus was martyred on February 14, during the reign of Emperor Claudius II (268-270AD).

Nonetheless, the legends surrounding St. Valentine are still enduring, and even though some are obviously fictitious and others probably have their roots in ancient fertility (dating) practices, the fact remains that we, as human beings, are incurable romantics. The thought of St. Valentine refusing to stop conducting marriages so that Claudius could increase his army with unencumbered recruits, or St. Valentine leaving love notes pressed between the stones of his prison (the presumed origin of Valentines) or counseling with young lovers through his prison bars may be fanciful but its still intriguing.

Sure, St. Valentine’s Day is not a Major Feast Day. Little or nothing is really known about his (or their) life and death, but still St. Valentine’s Day is a good day to celebrate love and commitment. And even if its origins were distinctively pagan the fact remains that we all love love. Whether its pagan Rome or modern America, whether its star-struck youth or tempered age, we should all appreciate our Valentines and express our love to them. This is a day to be a little silly, a little extravagant and a little over the top. Some might express the sappy, oozy infatuation of puppy love while others might say, “here’s your dang chocolate.” But the fact remains that our brother and father in God—St. Valentine, whoever he may have been, is probably happy to know that his name is forever associated with so divine a human attribute as love, marriage and family.

So have a happy St. Valentine’s Day and tell someone you love them.

Blessings,
Fr. Martin +

The Bloodied Pacifist

While on my way to Pittsburg today I stopped to spend some time at the Antietam National Battlefield. As some of you know I am something of a history buff and Civil War history has always interested me. As a boy I found the battlefields to be really cool. Now I find them to be very sad.

Antietam was an amazing battle. Called “The Battle that Freed the Slaves” because Lincoln issued his Emancipation Proclamation just six days after the battle, this was indeed a very important battle in American History. Some less laudable aspects can also be remembered about this battle. It was the bloodiest day in American history. It was, in a sense, the victory that cost Gen. McClellan his command. It was the battle that should have ended the Civil War and yet because of McClellan’s indecisiveness the war dragged on for two and a half more years.

All of these aspects create an atmosphere of absolute awe as one visits the battlefield. Even 147 years later it still inspires us. It is difficult to imagine the horror and agony, the bloodshed and violence, the bravery and glory that erupted there. One survivor described it as “perfect horror.” As I walked through the beautiful Maryland country side on this spring-like day, taking in the vast vistas of rolling hills and gentle farmlands it was hard to imagine what it must have been like on that hellish day in 1862.

What caught my attention on this visit was the little Dunker Church. It is an unassuming little white brick building that sits by the road on the edge of the corn fields. It was built by gentle German immigrants fleeing the religious persecution of their homeland. They were Brethren, Pacifist Ana-Baptists who settled along the quiet Antietam Creek near Sharpsburg. They built their farms there and their lives mirrored the gentle flow of the lazy Antietam. They were peaceful people who formed a loving community of Christian Brethren. They rejected violence and lived lives interrupted only by the passing seasons.

Their church caught my attention because as I peered in through the window I realized that their simple wooden benches were set in a semi-circle in much the same fashion as our new church design is laid out. They obviously had the same goals in mind when they designed their church as we have for ours; a sense of community, a sense of connection and participation, a sense of inclusion. One of their tenants in a time of slavery and war was the brotherhood of all mankind.

They could have little realized as they built their farms, their stone bridge and their little brick chapel that one day nations would collide over these unassuming landmarks. The church that stood for peace and brotherhood became the central target of the bloodiest battle in our nation’s history. Back and forth the church would pass between advancing and retreating armies. Her brick and timbers would be riddled and smashed by canon fire and bullets. In the end her floors would soak red with blood as she served as a hospital.

Men would die in and around that sacred ground. The Dunker’s farms would be burned, their fields littered with dead, their ground and creek stained red with blood. The fiercest fighting of the war, where men’s lives would be violently spent, centered around their little brick house of prayer.

Eventually weather would complete the destruction of the church but one man lovingly gathered and stored her timber and bricks until finally she could be rebuilt and restored. Today she still stands as a testimony to the beliefs and convictions of the gentle Christian people who built her and worshipped there. Even the National Monument marker acknowledges this old church as “a symbol of the brotherhood of all mankind” and the “existence of a kind and loving God.”

They are all dead now; the German farmers who built and worked and worshipped there; the soldiers who fought and struggled there. The chaplains and doctors, the drummer boys and generals, they are all gone now. The battle field is silent except for a few colorful birds chirping in the spring air. The soldiers there now are stone monuments and they keep their vigil looking out over the fields in an eternal silence.

Yet one thing remains; a simple little chapel—testimony to an enduring theology of love. We are building our church for “generations yet unborn.” We cannot begin to imagine the future for good or ill. It is my hope that the little church at Shipley’s Grant will be passed from one generation of faithful Christians to the next through the ages until the Lord’s return and that the clear message of the Gospel will not only be heard from its pulpit but also from its very stone and mortar, its design and its architecture. Like the Dunker Church which speaks even today—let us build our parish church for the generations to come.
Blessings,
Fr. Martin +

What a Ham

As I mentioned some weeks ago in church you really can’t trust our nation’s media to fairly and accurately report the news events as they happen. This is evidentially especially true if those events happen to be Christian in nature. On January 22 over 200,000 Christians assembled at the nation’s capitol—representing millions more who could not attend. We assembled there as we have every year since the deplorable Supreme Court decision called Roe V. Wade that legalized the holocaust of abortion in this country.

Over two hundred thousand of us marched that day to stand for the sanctity of human life. The next day USA Today posted a front page color photo of the three or four pro-abortionists who were present that day. I was there, I saw them. As we prayed the Litany of the Pre-born in front of the Supreme Court, committing the souls of those children slated for death that day to the Lord, this small group of pro-abortionists stood off to our left with three or four blue signs that read “Keep Abortion Legal”.
Three people on the front page verses two hundred thousand people listed as “abortion foes” on page 3 in black and white and cropped to show more police that marchers—I guess some would call that fair and accurate reporting. Still that’s better than many of the news outlets that didn’t even mention the annual march leaving their readers and viewers in the dark.

Well, never mind. Someone else is doing the media’s job for them. A new feature is coming out called “Thine Eyes” which will cover the event that the news media tried so blatantly to ignore or minimize. Currently this group has posted a brief trailer on You Tube. It is linked below. I encourage everyone to click this link into You Tube and watch “Thine Eyes.”

Oh, so why did I call this post “What A Ham”? Well, you’ll just have to watch the video to the end to find out. But I’ll give you a hint; out of over two hundred thousand people—who do you think is center stage in the end shot? If any of you visiting this blog don’t know my son, Ian, that’s him holding the sign at the end of the video.

Blessings,
Fr. Martin+

YouTube - thine eyes