Reaping Spiritual Fruits: PATIENCE


Colossians 1:9-13
August 26, 2012

For this reason, since the day we heard it, we have not ceased praying for you and asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of God’s will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so that you may lead lives worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, as you bear fruit in every good work and as you grow in the knowledge of God. May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

            Have you ever thought about how many stories in the Bible are about being patient and waiting for God? Of course not. Why would you wonder about something like that? But I wondered because it’s my job to wonder about stuff like that. So yesterday I did a survey of the Bible, looking for stories where people had to wait patiently for God. What I discovered is that virtually every main character of the Bible, at one point or another, had to be patient and wait for God. In effect, if you are a major person in the Bible you had to spend a significant amount of time in faith and hope waiting patiently for God to act.
           
            For example, look at the story of Abraham and Sarah. They had to wait. They prayed to have a child, and it did happen, but only after they thought they were way past childbearing age. The story of Joseph is of a man who was sold into slavery, and then imprisoned. He spent years as a captive in one form or another. You can imagine Joseph, sitting in his slave quarters or dungeon at night, asking God over and over, “When will you release me from my captivity? When will you take me from this injustice?” Joseph had no choice, if he was to remain a man of faith, to be patient and hopeful despite his suffering. And he was rewarded in the end with more than he could have imagined.
           
            The Israelites, as slaves of the Egyptians, had to be patient for generations as they prayed for God to release them from slavery. And when God did release them, they had to be patient for forty years as they wandered the desert, waiting to enter the Promised Land.

            When we think of David, and his being anointed by the prophet Solomon, we make the assumption that he quickly became king afterwards. He didn’t. In fact, because his anointing so threatened the present King, Saul, David had to live as an outlaw in the desert for twelve years. Imagine his frustration. Out of nowhere Solomon appears to tell him that he is the rightful king of Israel. He then defeats Goliath, which cements him as the rightful leader in the Israelites’ eyes, and still he has to live hand-to-mouth as an outcast for twelve years before he can become king. Imagine David’s prayers in the night, asking God to take away this injustice.

            The list of characters who had to be patient in their faith goes on and on. Elijah spends forty days in a cave, waiting for God to speak to him. The Israelites endure seventy years as slaves in Babylon. Jesus spends forty days and nights in the desert. The early Christians had to wait patiently on the Day of Pentecost for the Holy Spirit to come. Paul, even Paul, has to be patient. When we think of Paul’s blinding conversion on the road to Damascus, often we assume that quickly afterwards he was sent on his mission as an apostle to start churches in Turkey and Greece. That’s not what happened. Paul had to go into hiding, where he spent about three years living in the deserts of Arabia. Then he lived another eleven years in Tarsus (present-day eastern Turkey) before he was called to become an apostle. Paul had to wait patiently.

            Plainly put, the Bible constantly teaches that waiting patiently for God is a crucial part of faith. It also teaches that a lack of patience is perhaps the biggest killer of faith. Think about this in your life. How many times have you complained to yourself or another that God is taking SOOOO long? The complaint of many people who’ve walked away from Christian faith is that they prayed and prayed and nothing happened. So they gave up. They may have had the faith to pray, but what they lacked spiritually was the faith to wait for God to do what only God can do.

            How many times have you struggled to trust God because what you are hoping for, what you are praying for, isn’t happening? Are you struggling now? Maybe you’re unemployed and can’t find a job. That has happened to a lot of people, especially in this economy. When you’re unemployed and facing fears about the future, having to wait for God is agony. Maybe you’re lonely and can’t find a mate. That especially happens to a lot of people when they’re younger, but it can really cause people who are older and either divorced or widowed to struggle. Doesn’t God understand our loneliness? Doesn’t God care about what we’re going through? Maybe you’re sick or injured and aren’t getting well. Again, when we are struggling with an illness, especially one like cancer that can lead to death, waiting for any kind of healing can be demoralizing.

            Maybe you want to die and it won’t happen. That sounds like an odd thing to say, but I’ve been around people who struggle because they are ready to die and their bodies won’t comply. Many years ago we had a member here who struggled with this. Her husband had died, her daughter had died, her other daughter lived on the other side of the state. She was suffering from macular degeneration, meaning that she couldn’t really read anymore. Whenever I visited she would complain that there wasn’t much left to live for, and that she didn’t understand why God would let her suffer. Maybe you’re waiting for something significant to happen in your life, and it isn’t happening. Whatever it is, you are stuck waiting, and the spiritual question is, can you be patient.

            I have an odd thought for you—probably one you haven’t thought of. Did you know that whenever you have to be patient and wait for God, you are being biblical and spiritual,… even it doesn’t feel that way? For whatever reason, being patient has always been a crucial part of being faithful. The apostle Paul knew it, which is why he wrote so often about it in his letters. He not only wrote about it in our passage for today, saying “May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience,…”  Paul wrote about patience when listing the fruits of the Spirit. In virtually every one of his letters, he talks about the need for patience.

            I recognize how hard it is for people to be patient when they are really struggling. I remember a conversation I had with a woman many years ago following her divorce. She was lamenting that she had been divorced for a year and hadn’t met anyone she felt she could fall in love with and spend a life with. She had dated several people, but they all seemed to be like her husband, who had been emotionally abusive and neglectful. I said to her that I thought part of the issue was that she needed to undergo a transformation so that she could start to become attracted to healthier men who would treat her well. I said that if she wanted to fall in love with a good man, God had to lead her to change, and that takes time. She could either find a man quickly, who was just like all the other men, or take the time to grow, which meant being patient. It was only when she could become comfortable with being alone that she could find the kind of man who valued her for who she was. The issue wasn’t that she wasn’t meeting anyone. It was that she wasn’t attracted to the kind of men who would treat her well. She ended up struggling like this for three years, but eventually met and married a man who did treat her well. And she said to me, “I would never have fallen in love with him three years ago. But now it’s wonderful.”

            I didn’t come upon my insights accidently. I was able to give her this kind of advice because I also had to struggle with being patient while waiting for God to act. Twice in my life I’ve been unemployed for long stretches. I was unemployed for 16 months between 1982 and 1983. I was lost during that time. I kept praying for God to get me what I wanted, but in the end I realized that God had used those 16 months to transform me into what God wanted.  It was this time of waiting for God that led me to join the church for the first time at age 23. It was also this time that led me eventually to go to seminary. Without the struggle of those 16 months, my life would have been very different, and much more self-indulgent and self-focused. I also was unemployed for 8 months between finishing my Ph.D. and becoming pastor here at Calvin Church. It was during that time that I began to write my first book. I figured that I had just finished writing a 400-page dissertation, so why not try a book. Something good happened out of that time of patience, something that set me on a path to be a writer.

            So why does it seem like we always have to wait so long? Why does God make us wait when God could easily take care of things much more quickly? I have two thoughts.

            The first thought has to do with Kairos vs. Chronos. These are two ways of understanding time. “Chronos” is the time we live in. If you look at the watch on your wrist, it’s official name is “chronometer.” In other words, it measures time. A chronometer measures chronos, and we live in chronos. Chronos is steady, sequential, and passes by in a measureable way. Because we live in chronos, we experience time passing by in a relatively steady way. We can say something took a short time because it passed by in seconds or minutes. Or we can say something took a long time because it passed by in hours, days, weeks, months, years, or decades. So when things take months or years to happen, we struggle because it takes an objectively long time.

            Kairos is different. Kairos is God’s time. I literally means “the Lord’s time.” God does not live in chronos. God created it, but God is not bound by it. That doesn’t mean that God doesn’t work in our time. It’s just that God lives in a time beyond our time—beyond chronos. God’s time isn’t sequential and passing. God lives in a time in which past, present, and future are one, which is basically unimaginable to us because we are trapped in chronos. What feels like a long time for us may not be for God.

            There’s another factor to this. Kairos isn’t just a time beyond our time. It’s also a fullness of time in which more takes place. A way of thinking about it is that when we ask God to relieve our suffering by doing something for us now, we are usually asking God to, in essence, move the universe to meet our needs, and to do it quickly. We don’t take into account all the other prayers that people are sending God’s way, asking that God move the universe to meet their needs. I believe that God answers all our prayers, and actually moves the universe to do so, but God does so in a full way that also fits with God’s eternal plans. So God may find us a job, but God does so by caring for everyone in the workplace we will go to, the workplace we came from, for all those others seeking the same job as us, etc… God, coming from kairos, is looking to respond to our prayers through fullness—through a way that is grace-filled for all who are praying.

            So, this all adds up to us having to be patient for God to act in that fullness. God is doing much more than we realize. We have to be patient. We have to wait for that fullness of God’s time to work.  God is always working beyond our awareness to do more than we could imagine.

            A second thought is that we need to recognize the connection between patience and suffering. In Christianity there is an intimate connection between patience, suffering, and growing spiritually. This is one of those areas that really points out the differences between Christianity and Buddhism. Both deal with the reality of human suffering, but they do so in different ways. Buddhism teaches that suffering is caused by attachments in life that give rise to passions, passions that lead to acts that cause suffering in us and others. So Buddhism teaches us to let go of our attachments and passions in order that we act in ways of compassion. By seeing that life is illusory, and by seeing that what we think really matters doesn’t matter, we let go of our attachment to a worldly life. We let go of our attachment to possessions, ambitions, expectations, and anything that leads to suffering in ourselves or others whenever we bind our lives to them.

            Christianity doesn’t see suffering in the same way. Christianity recognizes that suffering is inevitable in life. People suffer because of poverty, illness, accidents, relationships, the indifference and animosity of others, and more. In effect, Christianity recognizes that nobody gets out of life alive, and that we will suffer at some point. But Christianity also recognizes that suffering can lead to transformation if we trust God. Think about the times you’ve been most transformed. Often it’s been after a time of suffering. That certainly was true for me. My 16-month unemployment completely transformed me. When you are in the hospital you are called a “patient” because you are suffering, and also because the medical staff will do something to transform your body to deal with whatever the problem is. 

            Christianity recognizes the spiritual significance of patience. The word “patience” literally means “to suffer.” It comes from the Latin root, pati, which means to suffer. It is the same root as the word “passion.” We think of passion as a strong emotional drive to do something—we have a passion for football, or a passion for music, or a passion for our jobs. But passion is suffering. That’s why the Mel Gibson movie from several years ago was titled The Passion of the Christ. It was literally “The Suffering of the Christ,” and the movie really centered on that suffering of Jesus prior to and on the cross. When we are patient, we are willing to undergo suffering, because we have faith and hope in God. We work hard to hold onto that faith and hope, even though we are in pain.

            Christianity doesn’t try to avoid or get rid of suffering. It recognizes that suffering is part of life. We can diminish suffering by caring for those who suffer. This is a Christian calling: to relieve the suffering of others when we can. We can also diminish suffering by detaching from things that cause our suffering. Christianity does have some connection with Buddhism there. But Christianity also teaches that suffering is transformative, and if we are willing to be patient in our suffering, we can experience great transformations.

            This message of patience as suffering and as being transforming is present in the story of the crucifixion. Jesus was willing to go through being arrested, beaten, imprisoned, and crucified, and he did it with a sense of suffering patience. He hurt, but he still was willing to endure the pain for what was to come. The result was that it led to a great transformation of him and the world as a result. This is the message of patience:  if we are willing to be patient, if we are willing to suffer for a while, greater things will happen in the end.

            No matter who you are in life, you’re going to face a time when it seems like God is either absent or not working fast enough. If you are able to wait upon God, it’s wonderful what God can do—and your patience will make a difference in your discovering God.
            Amen.

Reaping Spiritual Fruit; Peace, by Connie Frierson


2 Corinthians 13:5-12
Examine yourselves to see whether you are living in the faith. Test yourselves. Do you not realize that Jesus Christ is in you?—unless, indeed, you fail to pass the test! I hope you will find out that we have not failed. But we pray to God that you may not do anything wrong—not that we may appear to have passed the test, but that you may do what is right, though we may seem to have failed. For we cannot do anything against the truth, but only for the truth. For we rejoice when we are weak and you are strong. This is what we pray for, that you may become perfect. So I write these things while I am away from you, so that when I come, I may not have to be severe in using the authority that the Lord has given me for building up and not for tearing down.
Final Greetings and Benediction
 Finally, brothers and sisters, farewell. Put things in order, listen to my appeal, agree with one another, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you. Greet one another with a holy kiss. All the saints greet you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
         I get a little unsettled when I need to write a sermon.  I know this it is part of my process. One stage of this uneasiness is envy.  I look at whatever Graham preached on and say, “That was a better topic. Or, why couldn’t I have drawn that scripture?”  This week is no different. Except this time it is true.  We are preaching on the fruits of the spirit and Graham got Love and Joy.  Now who doesn’t want love and joy?  But I got ‘Peace’.  Now people will say they want peace. When asked by Bert Parks at every Miss America Pageant for about 30 years, “If you had one wish what would it be?”  Beauty queens respond, “World peace.” Everyone knows the answer to that.  We talk about peace. But to tell the truth, I don’t think we want peace.  What we want is excitement, or pleasure, or our own way, or to eat what we want without dieting. We want love, joy and happiness. We want stimulation and entertainment. We sometimes want progress, or accomplishment or advancement. But we don’t want peace. We only want peace when we are in the midst of war, or anguish or chaos. We only want to rest in peace, when our life becomes unbearable.  Asking for peace is often the prayer of last resort.
         Peace may be an acquired taste.  Maybe we need to figure out what peace is to see if we want it or not. We think of peace as the absence of the stuff that hurts and annoys.  Think of a peaceful moment in your life.  Close your eyes and picture yourself at peace. I am guessing that you are in nature. Most of you are beside a lake, stream or ocean. It’s probably at dawn or at sunset, and you are probably alone or perhaps with one special person. And you are silent. Who was at a vacation spot? Did anyone picture themselves in their workplace, office, or school?  Did anyone picture themselves accomplishing anything or doing any work?  Did any one picture yourself in a crowd or a group of people?
         We have very specific ideas about what will make us peaceful.  We focus on external peace.  We can be pretty demanding about what that peace will be.  Notice how loud the air conditioner hums when we are trying to be peaceful?   Suddenly it seems mosquitoes or flies descend just when we are going to get this peaceful thing right.  We are really picky about what external peace looks like. 
         For example, in order for me to be peaceful I need you to all do exactly what I want. Do I ask too much? I want all of you to rearrange your life so that if matches my inner vision of external peace. It would be helpful if you were all robustly healthy. I want you always to be nice and always cordial. I don’t care if your dog died an hour ago; I want you to greet me with a smile.  Perhaps sometimes you could occasionally send me notes or gifts that show your appreciation.  But that isn’t all.  I need the weather to cooperate. I need financial systems to work in my favor.  I want gravity to be reordered to suit me.  I don’t want to walk up hills and I don’t want parts of me to sag and wrinkle. Ah, there is peace.  But then I hear a dog bark.
         This isn’t peace. This is me pleasing myself and ordering the universe to my measure.  But God doesn’t want us to squish down into our own narrow definitions of peace. God wants us to grow up to a timeless, divine peace.  The peace we need to examine isn’t our idiosyncratic peace but the peace that passes all understanding, the peace that is in the Prince of Peace, the peace that Jesus talks about in at the last supper when he says, “Peace is what I leave with you, my own peace I give to you.” (John 14:27) That peace is worth delving, discovering, seeking and finding.  This is the peace that isn’t wish fulfillment. This peace is a fruit that is nurtured and grows within us.  The more we open and work and grow to discover God, to have God abide in us, then we can grow in God’s peace.
         Our passage today is Paul’s farewell words to the Corinthians. He is trying to tell them all that they need to know to abide in peace. He tells them, put things in order, listen, agree, live in peace, let the God of love and peace be inside you, give and receive a Holy kiss from each other. Paul is shouting out bullet points, simple things but profound things that are the way to peace.  The Corinthian church needed to hear Paul’s words. They were a contentious church, a busy trading hub of the empire church, a boomtown church.  But the discord between them was tearing the church apart and making everyone miserable. 
         As I was reading these final words of Paul I was reminded of the Serenity Prayer. The Serenity Prayer is simple, short and meant to be something to grab hold of in a storm to find your way to peace. This prayer is profound.  Reinhold Niebuhr wrote it sometime between 1932 and 1942.  Niebuhr was a giant theologian and pastor.  Niebuhr was interested in how do you practically and realistically live the Christian life.  So the fact that this prayer is so short and direct and practical reflects Niebuhr. And it reflects Paul. And it reflects Jesus who wanted us to not just think about peace but to be and abide in peace.  This prayer has been adopted and used by AA and 12 step organizations to help millions.  Everyone knows the short first part but I think the whole prayer says a lot about how we grow peace.

God, Grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the Courage to change the things I can and the Wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time; Accepting hardship as the pathway to peace. Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is not as I would have it. Trusting the He will make all things right if I surrender to His Will; that I may be reasonably happy in this life, and supremely happy with Him forever in the next. Amen.

         This is the pathway prayer to peace.  But most people don’t pray this prayer before they hit rock bottom in anxiety, distress and addiction.  Most people who pray this prayer have said to a small group, Hi my name is Connie; I am an alcoholic, abuser, gambler or addict.  If you have prayed this prayer perhaps you were a support group of one and you didn’t need to introduce yourself. But you did have something profoundly unpeaceful in your life to pray this prayer.
         Paul’s goodbye and Niebuhr’s Prayer are similar.  They almost mirror each other in fundamental ways.
1. Put things in order, or change the things you can.
2. Listen to my appeal, or look for Wisdom.
3. Agree with one another, or accept the world and people in it as they are, not how we want them to be.
4. The God of love and peace will be with you.  Trust the he will make all things right if you surrender to his will.  
The profound truth is that hardship is the pathway to peace. Without hardship we all just keep pursuing excitement and pleasure.  The root of Paul’s good bye message or Jesus last supper words to the disciples or Niebuhr’s prayer is that trust is at the root of all peace. The peace isn’t of our own manufacture. The peace is God’s fruit grown in us.
         Last words and good-byes are messages that are important. Leaving family or friends is painful moment in our lives. As children, we all experienced a very important "good-bye" every day of our lives -- when we were tucked into bed and left alone in the dark. Our parents called it "good night." But this end-of-the-day ritual is really a good-bye, a farewell to the day we shared together. Do you remember the last words your parents spoke to you before you went to bed at night? Did it vary from night to night or did you have a set routine? 

What is the last thing you say to your kids before they go to bed? Susan Goodwin Stiles, of Foley, Minnesota, has two little girls -- ages 6 and 4. As she tucks her daughters into bed each night, Susan recites a special mantra to them, "Remember, you are special to God. Remember how much we love you. Sleep loose."

"Sleep loose"? The Stiles recite this strange-sounding directive to their girls each night for a very important reason. They want their children to relax and let go to the love of God that surrounds each of them. They want their children to sleep loose in the security of that divine love. Too many children, too many adults, are sleeping "tight" instead -- tensed and ready to bolt and run at the slightest appearance of danger, the smallest indication of risk. It is hard to get a good night's rest when all of your muscles are taut. "Sleeping tight" is an uncomfortable, unhappy way to go through life. But for those who know they are "special," that they are "loved," each bedtime brings the comfort and security of "sleeping loose." Paul's final words to the Corinthians this week demonstrate how a well-crafted "good-bye" can be meaningful and moving.
         Let’s try it this morning. Say it after me: Remember how much God loves you. (Repeat) Remember how much we love you. (Repeat)  Sleep Loose. (Repeat) Amen.

Reaping Spiritual Fruits: JOY


Psalm 33: 1-7, 18-22
August 12, 2012

Rejoice in the Lord, O you righteous. Praise befits the upright.
Praise the Lord with the lyre;
   make melody to him with the harp of ten strings.
Sing to him a new song;
   play skillfully on the strings, with loud shouts.
For the word of the Lord is upright,
   and all his work is done in faithfulness.
He loves righteousness and justice;
   the earth is full of the steadfast love of the Lord.
By the word of the Lord the heavens were made,
   and all their host by the breath of his mouth.
He gathered the waters of the sea as in a bottle;
   he put the deeps in storehouses.
Truly the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him,
   on those who hope in his steadfast love,
      to deliver their soul from death,
         and to keep them alive in famine.
Our soul waits for the Lord; he is our help and shield.
Our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name.
Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us,
   even as we hope in you.

            Some of you who are newer members of Calvin Presbyterian Church don’t necessarily know this, but about five years ago we were part of a large, national study of churches. Diane Butler Bass—a church historian, researcher, and writer—studied mainline churches that were growing, but not necessarily in the way most megachurches were growing. The churches she studied weren’t necessarily offering contemporary worship services and a ton of programs. Instead, they were growing by emphasizing prayer and spirituality—what Diana called “spiritual practices.”

            She studies 75 churches overall, and 12 churches intensively. Calvin Presbyterian Church was one of the 12. She wrote about her study in a book titled Christianity for the Rest of Us. The book focused mostly on particular practices, especially as evidenced by the 12 churches. Calvin Church is mentioned prominently and constantly in the book, and the particular practice she noted us for was discernment and listening to God as a community and as individuals. She wrote about how we run our meetings, how we encourage listening for God in budgeting and stewardship, and how we teach the congregation to make listening to God a priority.

            I had a conversation with her after her book was published, and she told me that she and her research assistant, Joe, noticed a “practice” that we have that no other churches had to the extent that we had. According to her, we use humor in a way that no other church does. She gave me an example of what she meant.
           
            In one service she sat in on, Connie Frierson, who at the time was our seminary intern, was doing a children’s sermon. As part of the sermon she wanted to play a CD. The problem was that we couldn’t get the CD to play on our soundboard computer. So she then looked to Bruce to see if he knew the song and could play it on the piano. He shrugged and said that he had no idea. Then Toni yelled out that she thought there was a portable CD player in the nursery of the church. So someone ran out of the sanctuary to go look for it. We then had Bruce play some sort of kid’s song on the piano while we waited. When Connie came back in with the portable CD player, it took us a while to figure out where to plug it in. Finally, she got it working to great applause by the congregation. Diana she said that what impressed her most was how much fun we seemed to have as a congregation with all of it. At every step along the way, we made fun of the predicament. The members laughed at each failed attempt, and when we finally got it going there seemed to be a genuine sense of joy over everything.

            Diana said that how we handled all of it was so rare. She said that most seminary interns and pastors would have flipped out a bit over things not working. The congregation would have been a bit irritated. Members would have complained afterwards. We just thought it was funny. She told me that this may be one of our greatest gifts as a church. She just didn’t know how to highlight it as a “spiritual” practice.

            Why do we find humor in so much of what we do? Part of the reason humor is so much a part of Calvin Presbyterian Church has to do with our staff’s personalities. Pretty much everyone on our staff loves to laugh and crack jokes. It’s awfully hard to get us all together for meetings, or other events, and not have us joke about things. Another reason is that I grew up in a REALLY serious church, and its seriousness was part of what turned me away from church at age 15. We had a pastor at the time who used to preach about how awful we all were, how totally depraved we all were, and how we were all were lower than worms. But God’s grace saved us, though through merit of our own. He wasn’t criticizing the congregation. He simply was a strict Calvinist who believed that all humans are depraved sinners and are unworthy of God’s grace. I swore, when I was training to become a pastor, that when I became a pastor my approach would be one of joy and humor, not criticism and denigration.

            Those are two reasons having to do with us on the staff. There’s also a spiritual reason, and it’s an intentional reason. Simply put, Christians are meant to have a sense of joy, and we believe that this joy should especially be apparent in worship. I don’t know why it is, but I think that Christianity in general has gone through a long period of being SO SERIOUS. I have a favorite Christian joke that I think captures perfectly how Christians have approached faith for centuries, and it’s a way that I don’t think fits with what Jesus taught.

            There was a man who suffered from terrible headaches.  Being a typical man, though, he refused to go to the doctor.  Finally, his wife had had enough and forced him to go.  The doctor began his questioning:  “Do you smoke?”  The man replied, “I would never touch that evil weed!  It is the devil’s plant”  “Do you drink?”  Again the man replied, “Booze is the devil’s drink.  Beer and wine shall never touch these lips of mine!”  “Do you dance?”  He replied, “Dancing is the devil’s playground.  It lets the devil into our bodies.”  “Do you watch movies?”  “Nothing they make nowadays is worthwhile.  It’s all about sex and violence.  The devil uses Hollywood to pollute our souls.” 

            The doctor thought for a while and said, “I think I know what’s causing your headaches.  Your halo is on too tight!” 

            To be Christian should mean to have a sense of humor. Why? Because real humor keeps us humble, and there’s a connection between humility, humor, and being human. The words “humility,” “humor,” and “human” all have same root. They come from the world humus, which means “dirt” or “earth.” Think about most humor. It generally makes fun of being human. Not to be too irreverent (of course, in my first church I was called by several of our members the “irreverent reverend”), but most of what we think of as funny has to do with typically human things like burps, farts, eating, sleeping, peeing, sex, and stuff like that. Most good humor makes fun of being human, and it keeps us humble. Let me give you an example.

            There was a priest, a pastor, and a rabbi. The three used to meet every week to discuss religion, but often they ended up having bad arguments. So they decided to do something that would bond them. They decided to go fishing.

            So there they were, sitting in their boat, with lines dangling over the side. The priest looked at the other two and said, “I’m thirsty. We left our cooler on the shore. I think I’ll go get something to drink.” He stepped out of the boat and, walking on the water, walked to the shore, grabbed a drink, and walked back to the boat. The pastor then said, “I’m thirsty, too.” With that he stepped out of the boat and walked on the water to the cooler, grabbed a drink, and walked back. The rabbi felt a lot of pressure. He had to uphold his faith and show it was the equivalent to the other two. Otherwise the priest and the pastor would forever think that Christianity was superior to Judaism. So he stepped out of the boat, praying that God would help him walk on the water. His foot hit the water and he immediately sunk. Embarrassed and confused, he quickly swam to the shore to grab a drink. The priest looked at the pastor and said, “Do you think we should have shown him where the stones were so the he could have walked to the shore?”

            Good humor makes fun of both human pride and frailty. There was a 13th century Muslim mystic named Nasruddin who used humor as a way of teaching spiritual lessons. His stories are well known today among Christians, although, as is typical of many Christians, his stories are changed a bit so that people don’t know that they are Muslim. I love Nasruddin because of how his stories point out our human and spiritual foibles. He was an interesting man, too, because in all of his stories he is the main character, but he’s also almost always a fool. He teaches by first making fun of himself.

            One of my favorite Nasruddin stories is this: One day a man found Nasruddin on his hands and knees outside of his house, looking intently for something on the ground.  The man asked Nasruddin what he was doing, and Nasruddin told him that he was looking for the keys to his house. So, the man got down on the ground with him and began looking.  For thirty minutes they both looked intently, but neither could find the keys. Finally, the man asked Nasruddin, “Where exactly did you lose your keys?”  Nasruddin responded, “Over there by the bushes.” “Then why have we been looking over here?”

            Here’s another. The local mosque invited Nasruddin to preach a sermon. When it came time for him to preach, he stood up, looked at the assembled congregation and asked them, “Do you know what I’m about to preach?” They said no, and he said, “Well, I’m not going to preach to a bunch of people who don’t know what I’m talking about.” With that he walked out.

            The congregation was stunned and confused. They decided to invite him back the next week, and they knew what to say when he asked the same question. Once again Nasruddin stood before them and asked, “Do you know what I’m about to preach?” They shouted, “Yes!” He replied, “Well, if you already know what I’m going to say, I’m not going to waste my time preaching to you.” And he left.

            They decided that they had to ask him to come back a third time. Again he stood before them and said, “Do you know what I’m about to preach?” Half the congregation said yes, the other said no. Nasruddin said to them, “Well, the half of you that know what I’m going to say can just say it to the half that doesn’t.” And with that he walked out.

            These jokes are funny because they poke fun of human ignorance and pride, and they are profound because they also point out how ignorant and prideful we can be. Whether we realize it or not, Jesus had this kind of joy and humor. We don’t get to hear jokes that Jesus told, but we know that he was humorous and joyful because he was criticized for it. The Sadducees and the Pharisees complained that he was a drunkard, a glutton, and that he cavorted with all the wrong people. Their attraction to Jesus was that despite Jesus’ depth and brilliance, he also could be a normal person. He laughed and enjoyed life.

            The connection between humor and joy is that real humility opens us to find humor and joy in all of life. Of all the Christians I’ve known, the deepest ones have always been filled with joy, even if their lives have been hard. Basically they laugh, their eyes twinkle, and they enjoy the life God has given them, even if that life is hard. My first real exposure to this kind of person was Virginia.

            Virginia was a member of First Presbyterian Church in Murrysville, Pennsylvania, where I served as an associate pastor before coming here. She was like many other church members. She served on committees, as a deacon and an elder, and in the women’s association, but it wasn’t her service in these that made her exceptional. If you were judging her on her influence and leadership, you wouldn’t necessarily notice anything special about her. The thing that made her exceptional was the quality of her heart and her character. She had a spiritual something about her that you noticed fairly quickly. She was a woman who seemed at ease with herself, who knew what mattered in life, and who seemed to flow with God’s grace. No matter how difficult the situation was, Virginia was able to see the positives. 

            She lived a difficult life. She grew up in Fayette County during the Great Depression, and she had to work from an early age to help support her family. Even though she went to school, almost all of her free time was devoted to work. She met her husband, Charlie, after high school, and they got married, only to have Charlie ship out as a marine during World War II. For several years they maintained their marriage by letter as Charlie fought in the South Pacific. 

            After the war, they settled down, but Virginia soon found that they could not have children. So, they decided to adopt two special needs children. This was at a time when people didn’t really adopt special needs children. The two children they adopted were deaf. Virginia and Charlie learned sign language so that they could communicate with their children. 

            Virginia lived a difficult life, but no matter how difficult it was, she always had hope and a smile. Nothing seemed to faze her. I noticed this especially after she was diagnosed with liver cancer. I visited her several times in the hospital, and talked with her about her cancer. I was sure that she had deep-seated fears, and that I could help put her mind at ease. That’s what I had been taught to do in seminary. We learned that when people end up in hospitals with terrible diseases, they all have deep fears that they need to express. As pastors, we need to bring that out and help them deal with these traumas emotionally. I wasn’t prepared for Virginia’s response.

            When I visited Virginia, she was smiling. I asked her about her cancer and she told me that the doctors only gave her a few weeks or a month to live. I asked her how she felt, hoping to get to that deep fear. Virginia said that she felt fine. When I probed a bit more, she told me that the cancer didn’t faze her because she was ready to die. She didn’t fear death and was looking forward to meeting God. We talked for a while about what that would be like. Virginia had no deep-seated fear. She had a sense of hope, joy, and acceptance of what was happening. By the end of our time together, she had gotten me to talk more about my life than about hers. This is what I mean by her being exceptional.  She had such a deep faith that even the trauma of death couldn’t extinguish it. As a gift from God, Virginia slipped into a coma a few days later, and died a week later. Virginia inspired me in both life and death. 

            Over the years I’ve met many people like her—members of this church such as Jo Jones, Bill Uhl, John McMillan, Banks Brown, Betty Alexander… many more. They were a living testimony to the fact that faith could be serious as well as humorous, faithful as well as joyful.

            Joy comes from being so open to God’s presence in our lives that we see God in everything, even in our difficulties. Joy comes from living a spiritual life filled with gratitude for al that God has given us, humility in recognizing that we are nothing special outside of God, and lives in the now, letting go of fears and worries so that we can experience God in the present.

            We were created to live in joy. I want you to reflect on a question about the state of your joy. When you die, will people be able to say that you were filled with God’s joy? 

            Amen.

Reaping Spiritual Fruits: Love


Luke 10:25-28
August 5, 2012

Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”

            This morning we’re beginning a new sermon series on the fruits of the Spirit, which is based on Galatians 5:22-23: By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things.”  I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Paul starts his list of fruits by emphasizing love.

            Very early on in my life, I realized that the center of Christianity is love. It’s what really matters. It’s primary in Paul’s list, and through out passage for today, it’s the center of Jesus’ teachings. Without love in the world, things begin to crumble.

            I discovered the truth of this last statement early on in my counseling career through groundbreaking research that was done in the late 1980s. There was a period in the 1980s when so many new and different kinds of counseling approaches and techniques were being designed. Some were based on digging deeply into people’s subconscious. Others were focused on changing behavior. Others emphasized helping people discover natural health directives already within us. Others were designed to help us become aware of the nature of reality and how to respond to it. The field of counseling was becoming divided into those who were Freudians, Jungians, Lacanian, Rogerian, Bowenian, cognitive behaviorists, social learning theorists, Rational Emotive therapists, and so many, many more. The question arose: out of all those different kinds of counseling, which is the most effective.

            Research experiments were created to objectively research the question. In the end these studies found something surprising. All of the approaches were relatively effective in helping people, but what seemed to matter most was not the particular approach to counseling, but the extent to which clients and patients felt loved by their therapist. That was a groundbreaking discovery, and it baffled many people who were devoted to one field or another. The findings may also answer why it is that new therapies always seem so groundbreaking with the originators, but not with followers. The originators of these therapies have a deep passion and care for their patients, and develop these approaches to be more effective. That passion and care is their love. But those who follow them care more about the techniques, and so aren’t as good at the love, which makes their results more mixed. The point is that in counseling, just as in life, LOVE matters most.

            The famous psychiatrist, Karl Menninger, who founded the world-renown Menninger Clinic in Kansas, often said, “Love cures people—both the ones who give it and the ones who receive it.” He understood, as both a therapist and as a Christian, that without love people don’t get better but get worse. He believed that a lack of feeling love is what ails us in society. 

            Menninger realized something that Christ understood deeply, but that humans over time have to constantly re-remember. And each time people re-remember about love it’s like a revelation to them, even if it’s been there all along. I remember the 1960s when there was a huge emphasis on love, especially in 1966, dubbed the Summer of Love. The hippie movement saw love as the answer to almost everything, and the music, film, and literature of the day stressed it. Musically, the Beatles sang, “All You Need Is Love.” This song was followed by many others in the late 1960s and early 1970s that promoted love as the answer to the worlds ills. Slowly, though, through the 80s, 90s, and the 2000s, love became less and less prominent as a theme in our culture. People don’t talk about it much as a major force in life today, even in Christian circles. This was summed up to me by a pastor who once said to me, “Yeah, I suppose love is important and all that, but not as important as righteousness.”

            Culturally our focus tends to be more on erotic, sexual love rather than on an altruistic love. Many scientists and philosophers have called into question whether there really is any altruistic love, saying that what looks like love is simple self-interest masquerading as altruism. If you look at music, film, and literature, it is mostly about conflict and supremacy (basically about breaking up), or about erotic love.

            Part of the reason why love’s been diminished in our culture has to do with the diminishment of religion. People are walking away from Christianity in droves, and they’re doing so because they believe that we Christians have lost our grounding in love. And in many ways they’re right. So much of Christianity today is focused not on how great our love is, but on theological purity, orthodoxy, right doctrine, and dogma. No wonder people walk away. They don’t experience Christians as being loving. They just experience us as constantly promoting our rightness.

            Look at the impact our loss of love has had on those who have walked away from Christianity.  David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons, two researchers for the evangelical research company, the Barna Group, published a book two years ago titled, UnChristian: What a New Generation Really Thinks about Christianity... and Why It Matters. They did research on how non-Christian adults between the ages of 18-35 view Christianity. What they found really shows how loving we are perceived to be by non-Christians. 
  • 91% believe that Christians are antihomosexual.
  • 87% believe that we are judgmental
  • 85% believe that we are hypocritical.
  • 70% believe that we are insensitive to others.
           
            These statistics tell us all we need to know about how loving we are perceived to be. It shows that a vast majority of non-Christians think that Christians don’t love. So, they walk or stay away because they don’t think we’re very loving. The think we talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. My question, though, in response is a simple one: who teaches them about love? The American Christian movement has lost its moorings in love, but there’s been nothing to replace it. We may not be perceived to be very loving, but it’s not as though there’s any other institution in our culture teaching love. The result is that people walk away from the church and become less exposed to a need for love—not just erotic love, but a deeper, Christ-like love.

            In his day, Jesus was trying to restore an emphasis on love. The emphasis then was on law, not love. The focus was on whether or not they were perfectly observing the Sabbath, praying the right ways throughout the day, eating the right foods, etc,… Jesus saw their lack of love, and so he emphasized love as the core of law. He emphasized the Great Command found in our passage: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” This is what matters. In essence, if we are following this command, it will automatically lead us to follow the law, but following the law will not make us love. Still, people of our day and age are similar to the people of Jesus’ day. People keep persisting in thinking that things other than love are what matter—how biblical we are, how moral we are, how ethical we are. If we love, we will be biblical, moral, and ethical, but being biblical, moral, and ethical don’t make us loving.

            If you want to know what ails all of us, it’s a lack of love, and correcting it all starts with falling in love with God. Jesus teaches us to love by letting go of judgment, letting go of resentment, becoming humble, and learning to see others as God sees them, which allows us to act in love.

            What kind of love is Jesus talking about? Let me share with you something that, to me, makes it clear.  Some of you have heard of Catherine of Genoa. She is one of my favorite mystics, and a woman who inspires me despite her having died 600 years ago. Catherine of Genoa lived during the 1400s in Genoa, Italy. It was a time in which all of Europe was slowly emerging from the Dark Ages. Life was getting better, but it was still difficult.  Catherine, at age 16, was forced into marriage to an older man named Guliano Adorno. The marriage was arranged by Catherine’s older brother for financial and political reasons. It was a terrible marriage from the start. Adorno was a womanizer, an adulterer, and a scoundrel. He neglected and abused Catherine, as he squandered their money and engaged in one tryst after another. Catherine entered a dark, ten-year period of depression in which her life spiraled downward. 

            At age 26, Catherine went to her church for confession (a regular practice for her), but didn’t have the energy to confess. Instead, she cried and asked for a blessing from God. The request came from the deep desperation of her heart. In that moment, she had an experience of God’s love that overwhelmed her. She became deeply aware of how much God loved her, and in that moment made a pledge to God: “No more sin for me.  Only God’s love.” She decided in that moment to dedicate her life to God.

            She began to volunteer in the Pammotine Hospital, caring for victims of the plague.  This was during one of those periodic times when the bubonic plague swept through Europe, killing thousands.  Catherine’s ministry to the plague victims was one of love.  There was no cure for the disease.  There was nothing much that Catherine could do except love these people who were left by relatives to die. You see, plague victims were feared and were often abandoned by relatives and friends. When everyone else drew back in horror, Catherine drew closer. She was repulsed by the sores that covered their bodies, yet following God’s guidance she kissed the sores. She kissed the ill, cooled their heads, and comforted them. In short, she loved them as God loved them. 

            Her life became such a beacon of light that it had a transforming effect on those around her. Many co-workers and volunteers were inspired and transformed by her presence. Her husband, whose dalliances had almost destroyed Catherine, was transformed by her and her love. When he had a son through an affair, Catherine raised the boy, Thobia, as her own. Eventually, her love shined a light on Guliano that helped him to see the pain he had caused, and it opened a door for him to experience God’s love.  Guliano gave up his affairs and financial squaderings, and for the rest of his life worked beside Catherine in the hospital, caring for the sick. Catherine is the example of love. Her calling wasn’t to perfection, but to love. Too many today seek perfection, not love.

            We’re called to love—not to perfection, not to judgment, not to knowledge, not to greatness, not to anything else. We were created by God to love God and to be loved by God, and to love others with God’s love. Remember this: Love cures people - both the ones who give it and the ones who receive it

            Amen.

Walking on, or Wading in, the Water?




John 6:15-21
July 29, 2012

When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself. When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were terrified. But he said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” Then they wanted to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat reached the land toward which they were going.

            If you’ve been a member of Calvin Presbyterian Church for a while, you’ve probably figured out that Mahatma Gandhi has been a spiritual hero of mine. I’ve admired, and been inspired by, him since I first heard about him around age 9. I was fascinated with how a seemingly meek and mild man could transform his country, gain independence for it, and transform the world in the process. Over the years I’ve read at least three biographies on him, and have seen the film, Gandhi, at least 7 times, which may be 6-7 times more than most people. What’s inspired me was his ability to translate the spiritual into the practical. What he achieved in gaining Indian independence was miraculous.

            It’s not Gandhi’s non-violence that’s inspired me so much as it was how he achieved the miraculous through prayer and centering. Whenever Gandhi faced a struggle, his reaction was to center himself, pray, seek God’s way, and then act, no matter how long it took. I know that there are Christians who question Gandhi’s ability to hear God because he wasn’t a Christian. There’s a reason why he was never a Christian. He was deeply inspired by the Bible, and especially by Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. He considered the Sermon to be the greatest religious writing of all time. It guided his life and his movement. Gandhi wanted to become a Christian, and while in South Africa he visited an Anglican church to learn more about Christ. But he was turned away at the door, being told that his kind couldn’t worship in the white, Anglican church. So Gandhi remained a devote of Jesus’ teachings and life, but would not become a Christian because he felt that Christians were bigoted and did not live out the Gospel. 

             In many ways Gandhi lived out the example of the Gospel, especially in seeking God’s will and way, better than most Christians. Let me give you an example. During India’s decades long struggle for independence from the British Empire, Gandhi kept the people focused on achieving independence in a way that promoted love, respect, and the transformation of enemies through this love and respect. During the 1930s there was a point at which the Indian independence movement was stalling. There was tremendous pressure for Gandhi to do something, anything, to get the movement back on track. In frustration at their lack of power, people were beginning to lapse into violent protests. The British had been cracking down more severely, and especially economically. They were trying to create a culture in which the Indian people would become so dependent on the British economically that they wouldn’t be able to afford to gain independence. For example, one way they attempted to keep the Indian people economically dependent was to make the manufacturing of salt illegal without a permit, and only British companies could gain permits. Thus, this essential mineral, used everyday in cooking, cleaning, and more, could only be purchased from British companies.

            It was in this context that people clamored for Gandhi to do something. And he did Gandhi do something, but it was not what his followers expected or wanted. They wanted quick, decisive action. Gandhi gave them prayer.

            Gandhi retreated to his ashram (a commune where he and his followers lived), praying and seeking God’s will, despite pleas from millions that he do something, anything. A week went by. Two weeks.  A month. Two months. Three months. Five months. Seven months. Still no word from Gandhi. People wondered why he was remaining silent. The reason was that Gandhi was praying, and he told those who asked why he wasn’t doing anything that he simply hadn’t heard God provide an answer to what the next step was. 

            Then one day, as he sat by a pond, he received God’s answer. He told his followers to pack their things, to join him in prayer, and to prepare to walk. After dinner and worship, Gandhi and his supporters began to walk. Day after day he walked through towns and villages, and many of those villagers joined the procession. Gandhi kept silent about their destination and objective until he eventually got to the coast and stopped on a beach. With thousands of followers behind him, and many British soldiers surrounding him, he walked calmly to the edge of the water where a large chunk of salt had been formed by the evaporation of seawater in the hot Indian sun. He picked up the salt, walked over to a British soldier, and said, “I have manufactured salt. You must arrest me!”

            So what? What was so great about that? It was important because in this small chunk of salt Gandhi had found a symbol of Indian freedom. In a simple gesture, Gandhi had shown the absurdity of British law in India by presenting the British with a dilemma. If they arrested Gandhi for making salt, they would reveal the absurd oppressiveness of their laws to the Indian people, the British population, and the world. If they didn’t arrest him, they would give implicit permission to the whole Indian population to defy the British in this and every other economic concern. Gandhi’s picking up of the salt was genius, a genius inspired by God through centering and prayer. They arrested Gandhi, but his imprisonment ended up giving freedom to the Indians as millions made their own salt by pouring seawater into pans and letting it evaporate on their rooftops.

            It’s easy to become mesmerized by the salt march and the results, but I think that when our focus is on the miracle of it we miss the true key element. The key to this event is not so much what Gandhi did, but the centering that preceded it. Centering and seeking God’s way is the soil out of which miracles sprout. In the same way, when we focus on our scripture for today, we tend to focus on the miracle of walking on the water. It either becomes a source of inspiration for how great Jesus was, or a source of doubt for skeptics who claim that Jesus never could have done this. In both cases the key point is missed.
The key to the story is the centering that precedes the miracle. In the Bible, centering almost always precedes miracles. Unfortunately, because people focus on the miraculous, they ignore the centering.

            Go back and read the passage again. What was Jesus doing before he walked on the water? The people had wanted to make him a king, hoping that he would rise up, overthrow the Roman Empire, and usher in a new era of Jewish independence and dominance. Jesus dealt with them the way he dealt with all temptations. He left them to go off to the mountain to pray. He wanted to become re-centered in the Father’s will. He wanted to become rooted again in what God wanted. The reason he walked on the water was due to the fact that the disciples had gone off without him. He was catching up to them. The miracle is almost mundane—like someone running off after a bus that had taken off without them. Except that in this case they had gone off in a boat. I truly believe that what matters in the story is the centering that preceded the miracle because in the Bible that’s the foundation for all miracles.

            You see this same pattern—retreat, centering, miracle—in the same story of Jesus walking on water told in Matthew’s gospel. Matthew adds a bit more to the story, though. In chapter 14 we read, “And Peter answered him, ‘Lord, if it is you, bid me come to you on the water.’ He said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus;  but when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, ‘Lord, save me.’ Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, ‘O man of little faith, why did you doubt?’ And when they got into the boat, the wind ceased. And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, ‘Truly you are the Son of God.’”

            Peter, upon the invitation of Jesus, centered himself in Christ, and it allowed him to walk on the water. He had abandoned himself, surrendered himself, to Christ’s care, and the result was the he could do the miraculous, too. But then he became afraid of the wind as they whipped up the waves. That fear wiped out faith. That’s what happens to all of us. We want to have faith. We want to trust God, but anxiety gets in our way. What if we trust God and good things don’t happen? What if we trust God, but God isn’t paying attention? What if all this stuff that we’ve learned is false? How do we keep from becoming disappointed? How do we protect ourselves from the bad things that might happen if faith doesn’t work?

            Centering in God helps us to overcome that fear. This is the reason centering and prayer was so essential to Jesus’ life and ministry. Think about it. Before he sets out on his ministry, he spends a month in the wilderness in prayer so that he can be prepared spiritually for what’s to come. When he delivers he Sermon on the Mount, it comes after he has tried to go up the mountain to pray. Before he goes to the cross, he goes to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray. Centering is the model Jesus gives us to facing any situation.

            The lesson centering teaches us is this: miracles, big and small, do happen when we take time to center our lives in God. Miracles do happen, but the people who experience them the most aren’t necessarily the Christians with the greatest theological knowledge, or those who live the most outwardly “Christian” lives. It’s the people who are most adept at centering their lives in God and God’s way. It’s those who make time for calming, for opening, for seeking, for waiting, and for then acting in faith based upon centered hearts and minds.

            A lot of us, perhaps most of us, seem to careen from moment to moment, reacting to whatever happens. Whether it’s at work, at home, with others, we react to situations around us. Often we react without even thinking. Someone says something to us and we get irritated or upset. Someone does something we don’t like, that threatens us, or that doesn’t fit with how we think things should be, and we react without thinking. We’re faced with a problem, and we react and respond without thinking, or at least we respond after thought mixed with anxiety and concern.

            Christ gives us a different example of how to respond to the demands of life. His example is on of being faced with problems, with overwhelming times, and with all sorts of concerns, and taking time for centering—for quiet, calm, and for seeking God’s wisdom and way—before acting or reacting.

            So my question for you, after all this, is a simple one: Do you live a centered life?  If not, what do you need to do to gain one?

            Amen.