Honor, Courage, and Commitment

A Sermon in our Preachers from the Pew Series by Cary Efaw March 25, 2012
BIBLE PASSAGE: Psalms 118: vs. 1-9

Please pray with me: Oh mighty and gracious God may the words of this sinner of sinners who has stood at the very gates of hell be of comfort to those who hear my words this morning. May I articulate your glory, your power and your love that they might see a different way of how you can and do work in the lives of your people in this world. AMEN.

Early Events: I am starting my story this morning after my return from Vietnam. While I suppose I could begin my story with episodes about my experiences in Nam, I choose not to speak about those. Much of my adult life has been spent trying to suppress those memories and I do not wish to resurrect them now. I mention this simply as a jumping off point for my journey of faith and to set the context of where my faith or more accurately lack of faith stood at this point in my life. I came back from Vietnam to a world that in my mind had changed. I felt isolated, detached and alienated unable to relate what I had experienced to friends & family. There was no honor or positive recognition of my service and sacrifice by this country but only distain for having participated in an unpopular war that America was trying to put behind it. No parades, no thank you for your service, most of the story lines in the papers and movies seemed to involve these drug-crazed vets from Nam who were bent on destruction and were outcasts in the society that had sent them to war. Perhaps that is a too harsh assessment on my part of the reality at the time, but it certainly was my perception. It only got worse when after 1 month upon my discharge from the Marines I found myself on a college campus, filled with hippies, love children, streakers, and conversation topics that professed make love not war. I drank too much and was hurt - I'd given so much & no one cared.

So I withdrew into a shell which further isolated me from those around me. And while I had always believed there was a God I felt he wasn't involved in the world or in my life. I had seen the very darkest side of humanity in war and I concluded there was no way a good God, as I was taught growing up in Sunday school, would have been associated in any way with those events. I sort of dismissed him as an non-entity in my life. To me I had been hardened in battle and life was simply a struggle to survive. I had survived Nam and now I was going to grab life by the throat and squeeze every last drop out of it that I could.

I sincerely doubt that the good people of Calvin Church would have welcomed me into your midst during that period. The only thing holding my world together at this point and keeping me from traveling down a dark and dangerous road was a girl I had met not long after leaving the military. She was a farm girl and a beauty and now has been my wife for 38 1/2 years. I will never be able to thank Kathy enough and I am sure God has a special place in Heaven just for her because it was her love that began turning a dark angry young man's life around. Besides the Vietnam experience I have had 2 near death events in my life. Even in these events I blamed my own stupidity not God - in fact he wasn't part of the equation in my mind. The 1st one occurred in June 1972.

Car Crash: It was June 1972 and I'm in college summer school. Because of issues I was dealing with on my return from Vietnam, my family and I decided it was perhaps better if I moved out of my parent's house. The flashbacks, bad dreams and my volatile attitude was not a good influence on my younger brothers and sister. Fortunately a high school buddy of mine, who had been the Navy, owned a 2 bedroom trailer on his dad's 50 acre farm and he let me stay there basically rent free. The trailer was located in the middle of nowhere which suited me just fine.

My daily routine was I attended classes in the morning, worked on a farm in the afternoons and then either steadied or played softball in the evenings. This particular June day was no different, I got up went to class, worked that afternoon and then went and played a softball game that evening. Usually after the softball game we would head to the bar that sponsored the team and throw a few back, shoot pool or just shoot the breeze. However, I didn't stay long that evening I was in a hurry to get home because I needed to steady for an economics test the next morning. The road leading to the trailer was part 2 lane blacktop (maintained by the state) and part dirt/rock (maintained by the township). The dividing line was on a sharp bend in the road a couple of miles from the trailer. What I didn't know was on this particular day the township had come through and covered it's portion of the road with loose gravel. The intent was to come back the next day and apply a thick, oily tar like substance on the road thus as traffic drove over the road this material would mix with the gravel and form a hard surface not too dissimilar to blacktop. As I drove home faster than I should be at 10 or 11 o'clock at night I came to the bend hit the loose gravel and the car began to slide. Normally you would think that the car would slide into the embankment, bounce off and come to rest in a ditch. I wasn't that lucky because of the angle in which I hit the embankment my front bumper dug deep into the dirt and hit a small tree. This caused the car to flip on its side and slide down the road about 100 feet, then it hit some kind of bump in the road and rolled over on its roof. It took a few seconds for me to realize what had just happened and at this point I am upside down, hanging from my seatbelt and my head resting on the roof. It all happened so fast!

My first thought was, ok I'll roll out of the driver side window and survey the damage to my car. That's when I discovered my 1st problem. My left hand, which had been out the window while driving was pinned underneath the roof of the car, I couldn't free it. Fortunately I carried a tire iron under the front seat of the car. I won't go into detail about why I had a tire iron there, other than to say it had come in handy a few times in the parking lot of some bar when a fight broke out. Using the tire iron I was able to dig around my left hand and bend the end of the roof edge up enough to free my hand. I rolled out of the car.

As I was standing up to survey the damage to my car is when I discovered I had a bigger problem than just a wrecked car. My left hand was crushed, the fingers were pointing in all different directions, and most of my middle finger was gone with only a white bone sticking out. Not only that but every time my heart beat blood would fly out of the top of my hand. I had severely torn up the top of my left hand. I came to realize that because the car had flipped so fast and violently my left hand had been pinned between the gravel road and the driver side door. I grabbed the top of my left hand and applied pressure and lifted my left arm over my head to slow the pumping of blood out of my body. About a 1/4 mile down the road was an old farmhouse with lights on. The people living there had moved in several years ago and their name was Abbott. I didn't know much about them, other than I had ridden the school bus the last couple of years of high school with their oldest son, Bobby. We weren't friends just acquaintances and all I could remember of the family was they were dirt poor and had lots of kids. I began walking toward the farmhouse.

About 1/2 way there I began to get woozy, I was staggering and all I wanted to do was lay down in the middle of the road and go to sleep. Plus my hand was starting to throb and hurt. I understood what was happening - I was going into shock. I knew the symptoms well, I had seen it a number of times in Vietnam. And I knew darn well if I gave into this feeling I would go unconscious, bleed out and die right there on the road. But I was so tired and my legs were starting to buckle. For whatever reason, I surely do not know, a phrase jumped into my head at that moment. I had picked it up in Nam and have no idea who the author is or why it came to my mind just at that time and place. The phrase was " I felt death tickle my ear, LIVE HE SAYS, for I am coming". Like I said, I had no idea why that phrase entered my head, all I do know is it was enough to keep me going and to reach the farmhouse. I can't imagine what Mrs. Abbott must have thought when she answered my knock. First of all its late at night, and as I said earlier I didn't know much about the Abbott's and neither did any of my friends and neighbors - so I can't imagine they got many visitors to begin with. But when she opened the door and saw a man in a softball uniform, covered in blood, with his mangled left hand raised high in the air no doubt there was shock. She slammed the door in my face! Can't say I blame her. However, I was barely conscious at this point and desperate.

Desperate times call for desperate measures! I stepped back and with what strength I had left I kicked the door in. I immediately began barking orders, to call the local sheriff (911 didn't exist then) showed them how to apply a tourniquet to my arm and ordered them to get me some type of antiseptic to clean out my wounds. Needless to say the scene in that old farmhouse was chaotic. It was all I could do to remain conscious until the sheriff got there and I believe I was babbling something or other that probably made the Abbotts think I was a lunatic! When the sheriff arrived he half carried and half threw me into the back seat of his cruiser and with lights flashing and sirens sounding he sped me to Washington Hospital. As I half laid and half sat up in the back of that squad car I couldn't help but think how ironic this was.

 I was very familiar with the flashing lights and sirens but they had always been in my rear view mirror before. I'm in the emergency room having various cuts and abrasions treated when the doctor on duty that night came in and said to me; " son I can't do anything for your left hand except amputate it, rather than do that I am sending you to Presbyterian Hospital in Pittsburgh. I know a bone specialist there who may be able to save part of your left hand". The doctors and nurses at Presby worked 12 hours putting my hand back together, inserting pins, amputating the remainder of my middle finger, and putting skin grafts over the top part of my hand. Much later on a follow up visit the chief medical doctor of that team said they had experimented using a new technique on me. He said traditional medical procedures was of no help in my case and because my vital signs during the operation were so strong they tried a couple of different techniques on my hand. As a result they had a new protocol to use in similar situations and I had even been written up in a medical journal!

After months of self rebilitation (I had no insurance) I regained full use of my hand. My philosophy "People can make stupid mistakes and then must pay for them". Stupid is as stupid does... College had expanded my mind to possibilities of gaining riches if I worked hard enough. Growing up in a farming community I'd hadn't given much thought about money. As long as I had enough money in my pocket to go out and have a good time I was satisfied. I had always worked hard in fact started my 1st job at the age of 12 on the farm of a father of a baseball buddy. But it was in college my thinking began to change, new worlds of possibilities opened up to me and I developed the 30-30 goal. In other words to be making $30k/yr. by the age of 30. That might not seem like much of a goal in light of today's salaries but back in 1975 starting my 1st job after college my salary was $12,900 at the time I was 24 years old - so this was a stretch goal. A new mindset was formulated in my life - that of an ambition to make money, live a comfortable life style & retire early.

As I said earlier in my mind at the time God was not part of these events or my life. I was in a survival mode. I was determined to control everything in my life and conquer all obstacles to reach my goals. I was determined to live by the Marine Corps mantra (Honor, Courage & Commitment) became my modus operendi - my key word mission statement.
 * Honor - to do anything and everything legally to make a good living but I wouldn't cut corners or cheat my way to the top.
* Courage - to never fear any obstacles or assume any task too hard that could stop me short of my goals.
* Commitment - to work tirelessly to never give up and stay the course no matter what life threw at me.

But I had a setback in February 1978 which was my 2nd near death event.

 GAS EXPLOSION It's now February 1978 and life is good for Kathy and I. We have been married for about 4 1/2 years, we both are working and I am closing in on my goal of $30k by age 30. We bought a house south of Pittsburgh in Upper St. Clair, we drive new cars, I even own a 1965 corvette roadster. We are talking about starting a family soon. This particular Sunday my mom and dad are coming over to visit. Our house has a finished basement with a nice fireplace and mom and dad loved to sit by a roaring fire and talk. Kathy is upstairs making lunch for us all and I'm in the basement attempting to build a fire before my parents arrive. It's not working. I work for a big international accounting firm and have been out of town all week.

 It had snowed that week and most of my fire wood was outside covered with snow. I have very little kindling in the house and no dry logs to start the fire with. I've spent the last 1/2 hour trying to dry a couple of logs off enough to start a fire but I can't get them to burn. So I come up with a bright idea. I'll make sure there are no burning embers in the fireplace and then I'll take a small glass put some gasoline in it then pour it on the logs. Let the gas soak into the wood for a few minutes then light the logs. The gas should burn hot enough to get the logs burning. That is exactly what I did and the idea seemed to be working up to the point of where I lit a piece of paper and shoved it into the fireplace.

Suddenly there was an explosion and a basketball size fire ball shot out of the fireplace, hit me squarely in the chest knocking me backwards about 10 feet onto the floor. Not only had I managed to get a fire going in the fireplace but also the carpet and a couch sitting near the fireplace were on fire too. I jumped up gabbing 2 large pillows off the couch and began beating the flames out on the couch and floor all the while yelling for Kathy to get her butt down there and help put the fire out. As I beat the fire out I noticed something strange, the skin on my hands and arms was drooping down like long strands of Lingui.

Moments later my thighs began to burn and I looked down to see my blue jeans were smoking - my legs were on fire. Kathy and I quickly smothered the fire on my thighs and that's when I noticed all the skin on my hands and arms was pretty much gone. I was a blistering mess. I began to get that old feeling back of going into shock and I told Kathy I was going up to the kitchen and lay on the cold tile floor (I was starting to feel the impact of the burns) and she better call an ambulance. As I lay there the pain intensifying, my body swelling up and feeling very nauseated to my stomach wouldn't you know the door bell rang.

My parents were here. Now growing up in the country family and friends visiting customarily knock on the door and immediately open it and announce themselves as they walked into your house. This is what my mother did and as she looked down the hallway and saw me laying on the floor - she went ballistic! She started yelling and screaming what happen to you, what's wrong, oh my God what has happened? Dad who was walking behind her took one look at me and immediately knew what had happened. He didn't know how it happened but he recognized what was wrong with me. You see my dad had left high school at the age of 17 and joined the Marines to fight in WWII. He fought battles on Guadalcanal, the Solomon Islands and was severely wounded on Iwo Jima. Guess what his military specialty was? He carried a flame-thrower! He recognized I was severely burned and he grabbed mom by the waist and half lifted her up and dragged her outside to calm her down. It was about then the ambulance came and took me to Mercy Hospital's Burn Unit.

All the way in the ambulance I begged the paramedics to give me something for the pain. They refused, they said their protocol did not allow them to administer pain medication to burn victims. I would learn later why. I won't go into all that took place in the Burn Unit but will tell a couple of stories. Upon arrival at the hospital a team of doctors and nurses whisked me away to the burn ward and began the debreeding process. The debreeding process for those who don't know is where they scrape and pick off all the burnt flesh in the burn wounds. It's extremely painful and they give you very little sedative while doing it. The reason for this is because they want you to be conscious during the process in case you go into cardiac arrest at which point they change protocol to save your life. Apparently in severe burn cases like mine this was a frequent occurrence and is why the paramedics refused to give me pain medication on the way to the hospital. In my case it was more complicated because I was wearing a polyester shirt at the time of the fire and many of the polyester fibers had melted into my skin. Medical monitoring equipment and burn treatment procedures have come a long way since those days.

 I would go through multiple debreeding processes in my 35+ days stay at Mercy. By the way, the main debreeding room was located at the far end of the basement at Mercy Hospital. It looked like a dungeon with very little lighting, bland walls and a moldy smell. In the room was a large tank, a hoist and platform. I would be wheeled down to the debreeding room in a special cart that tilted. Here was the process. A medical technician would hoist me up then slide me off the cart into a padded wire basket. The basket would be lowered into the tank filled with beta dine, water and other additives(?). Then the scrubbing process would begin. I soon understood why this room was located far and away from the rest of the hospital. I still shiver to this day whenever I think of that special cart coming for me in the Burn Unit. Later that 1st night I am laying in a bed with an aluminum frame over the top of the bed - sort of like a tent to keep the sheets off my wounds.

 The lights are low and I'm struggling mentally to understand what has happened to me. I'm weak, I'm tired, they have strapped my arms and legs down to keep me from scratching my itchy wounds and the morphine they have given me while easing the pain hasn't alleviated all of it. I can't even open my eyes. I hear the voices of 2 people walking into the room. I can only guess they were young interns or resident doctors - I really couldn't make anything out except 2 shadowy figures. One says to the other "I hear we got a new burn patient in today let's check him out". They lift up the sheet to see my naked, blistered body bathed in beta dine and burn ointment. I have 2nd & 3rd degree burns over 40% of my body. One guy lets out a low whistle and says "this guy will never make it to morning". They lower the sheet and walk out. I doubt they knew I was conscious but mentally I said "you SOB don't count me out just yet!"

A few days later when I was conscious more frequently and could tolerate visitors, Kathy informed me she was 6 weeks pregnant with our 1st child - Dawn. I struggled to comprehend what she was saying and I wondered if I would live long enough to see our child. I would undergo more operations for skin grafts to cover the wounds on my arms and legs. The pain was constant before, now I had skin grafts which were itchy on top of being painful. I was not a happy camper and my attitude only worsened. I think at one point I told Kathy to leave me and go find another man that could take care of her and the coming baby because I would probably never get out here or if I did I would be badly crippled and of no use to anyone. She told me to go to Hell. Quite a lady, my wife! Months later the skin grafts were healing and I was wearing a body stocking to protect my skin grafts, which by the way was extremely itchy. The doctors told me I needed to start stretching the skin grafts on my elbows and under my arms to gain flexibility. If I didn't they said my arms would be permanently locked into a position where I would be unable to bend them and would be disabled. I looked like a car with its doors wide open at the time. I tried to do the stretching exercises they showed me but they were extremely painful and I had lost so much muscle tone and strength I struggled to make any progress.

 As the bands of skin hardened the more difficult it became to move at all. In desperation Kathy and I devised a different way to stretch the new skin. I would lay on the floor on my back, Kathy would put one foot on my shoulder and the other on my wrist and slowly force my arms down into a straight position on the floor. Something akin to Christ being crucified on the cross. I would love to be able to tell you that I offered her words of encouragement during this routine, unfortunately nothing could be further from the truth. I ranted, raved, and cussed to no end. The pain was excruciating and nearly drove me out of my mind. Let me remind you, Kathy is now about 8 months pregnant with our 1st child and is dealing with her own issues, wondering what it is like to have a child, feeling insecure about all the changes taking place within her body, wondering about the pain of child birth not to mention dealing with a husband that is completely dependent on her for everything. As good as life had been for us before this accident, it was now one big nightmare. Somehow we survived it and over a period of about a month I gained full use of my arms. Just in time to hold my new baby girl. After recovering from this episode I was more determined than ever to accomplish my goals. I was a little behind on my career schedule and set about to make up for lost time.

So audience you need to ask a question here & here it is - SO CARY, HOW DID THIS WORK OUT FOR YOU?

Well I'm glad you asked and I did a tabulation of sorts over my 35 plus year career.
* I've been fired 6 times
* twice I lost jobs due to plant closings
* 2 businesses I started both failed
* I have filed for unemployment 8 different times in my career

Not exactly an lustrous career! Must be some kind of record... It was these events that caused me to begin an earnest search for God and to try to understand why this was happening to me. I had nowhere else to turn, I had done everything in my power to make my career a success and I had failed miserably through circumstances that seemed to conspire against me.

 While outwardly I put on a brave face, inwardly I felt like a loser, my confidence was gone, and a fog of hopelessness seem to settle over me. Life had not been able to break me physically but I guess you could say mentally I was a broken man and spiritually bankrupt. Hitting rock bottom took on a whole new meaning for me. During this period of time the most influential person in my life was Graham. Through our discussions (he knows of some of the sordid details involving part of my employment history) and the books we read in the Men's Room Group including the follow up discussions - Plus that group's friendship and more importantly their full acceptance of me; became the foundation to begin my new journey to find God. The Men's Group probably never realized how important that connection was to me and still is. Of all the programs and changes Graham has introduced to this church over the years, in my mind, starting this study group has to rank near the top. The influence of this group plus my personal Bible readings and reflections I began the process of coming to grips with the idea that God was in fact part of my life. That the Lord Jesus Christ was in fact walking with me every step of the way and I needed to grow my faith in that hope and to turnover everything to God in prayer & trust he would help me through the difficult times. It was a gradual process and there were many days that I didn't feel God's presence but I held on to the hope that He was in fact there.

Slowly I began to rely less on my emotional state and trusting more in a God who controlled the universe. My prayer life went from one of "questioning why all this stuff was happening to me?" (I would analyze and reanalyze each event trying to figure out what I could have done differently or where to lay the blame for my predicaments) to one where I simply asked God "help me grow my faith and increase my trust in you". Somewhere in the Bible there is a passage that says and I'm paraphrasing "for those that trust in God good things will happen". Each time I felt the stress building, the panic setting in about my situation and what was going to happen to me, my family, our future I would repeat that phrase and a half dozen other favorites I picked up in the Bible. Amazingly each time the stress and panic subsided and I would feel at peace for hours on end. Over time, slowly, I felt the burdens, the guilt and the worry lifted from my shoulders to where I began to have a sense of freedom from the fear, the embarrassment and the pain of my struggles.

My situation had not changed but my mind set had. I experienced joy and a feeling of gratitude not because my circumstances had changed (they had not) but because I sensed that God was strengthening me internally, preparing me for something else of which I had no idea what it was or when it might occur. To tell the truth I still don't. What I do know is that I have made a transformation in thinking and I live by a new mantra these days based on 5 principles.
1. To allow God the freedom to work in my life.
2. To relax & enjoy the ride of life.
3. To take life 1 day @ a time.
4. Everything is turned over to God - including seeking his help to continue to deepen my Faith & Trust in Him.
5. The freedom to let go - I'm no longer in control of my life - God is.

This transformation has given me a new perspective on life. I don't worry about the future like I used too, I'm not concerned of how others may judge me, instead life has become an exploration, a game to see how often I can find the blessings God is granting me each and every day. The material things of this world do not hold the same sway over me as they once did.

Don't get me wrong, I still like nice things, to visit beautiful places and enjoy the various entertainment options that can be had. But their significance in my life have diminished and they are not what I live for anymore. They also do not define me as a person. This is not the message the world offers and at times I feel like a stranger in its midst, but truth is, it feels right, deep down I sense this is what God wants for all of us and He will surely give it to anyone who asks. My understanding of life now is that there are many paths to God. And each of us need to seek, to work at, and find our individual path that will lead us to Him. The key is to ask for his help and not try to do it with only our understanding of how the world works. Another place in the Bible says "God's ways are not man's way" so we need to think differently about our faith and how we go about developing that faith. However we go about it , it all begins with trusting in God and then asking for his help in discovering who we really are and what purpose he has for us in granting us life to begin with. We belong to him, we do not belong to ourselves is a lesson hard to learn. Only when we are willing to let go of our lives do we then begin to live our lives as they were intended to be.

One of the passages in Jesus' Sermon on the Mount is in his discourse that in order for a man to gain his life he must lose it. I think he meant to give up control over our lives. It was through grace that we were granted life and it is thru grace that we can truly live rich lives. As Psalm 118 so elegantly puts it "it is better to trust the Lord than to put confidence in man, it is better to take refuge in Him than in the mightiest king!".

My hope for each of you today and myself would be that we would pursue this goal earnestly and help one another along the way. May the Lord of Lords, the Host of Hosts, the God of Gods grant us the courage and commitment to achieve this endeavor and to honor Him in all things.
AMEM and AMEM.

You Have Been Chosen

As part of our "Preachers from the Pew" Series A sermon by Carrie Baker This sermon is in audio form only

Finding God in the Mess

A sermon by Dr. Karen Stubenbort

This sermon is audio only


Taking the Hand of Christ



a sermon by Harley Allen


 
Good morning.  I am Harley Allen and it is good to be here with you and have the opportunity to speak with you this morning. Last week we heard from Bill Lambert the CEO of a major company.  This week a retired kindergarten teacher stands before you.  Bill’s story quite was compelling and as I sat there in the pew, I began to wonder, why, oh why did I ever agree to do this.  I can’t possibly provide as powerful a message as Bill did. But on the drive home from church God revealed to me that is the beauty of this concept of preachers from the pew.  We all have stories to share about our faith journey and by sharing mine, my hope and prayer is the story will glorify God and serve to help one person draw closer to Him. Before I begin let’s come before God in prayer.
Dear Heavenly Father, we come to you humbly seeking to make a place in our hearts for you.  Keep us ever mindful of your presence.  Dear God I ask that you would use my words to your glory and pray they would help to further your kingdom here on earth.  In your Son’s holy name we pray, Amen.
As I prayerfully considered what I wanted to share with you this morning, it became obvious to me it was how my battles with illness have shaped my faith journey.  As many of you already know and as some of you are about to learn, I stand before you this morning engaged in my sixth battle with cancer.  It is easy for me to tell you that because with Gods’ help and by the power of the Holy Spirit and so many of His faithful servants extending the hand of Christ to me, I am at peace. Taking a page from Graham’s playbook, let’s start with a story.  Before I came Calvin, I had a twenty-three year history as a member of a Presbyterian Church in the North Hills. During those twenty-three years I was blessed to serve in a variety of capacities.  At the time when this story takes place, I was the Clerk of Session and the church had just called a new pastor.  In an effort to get to know the members of session better, that new pastor started his first session meeting by asking each session member to state his/her favorite scripture and give an explanation as to why it was meaningful to them. Elders are called to be the spiritual leaders of the church and although I belonged to the Men’s Bible study, a Couples Bible Study and read my Bible I have never been one to memorize Scripture.  I know it is one of the disciplines and I should be working to improve, but I just don’t.  As we went around the table, it became quite apparent my fellow Session members did practice the discipline of memorizing Scripture.  They were capable of naming the book, chapter and verses of their favorites.  I grew more and more apprehensive as my turn approached. Fear seized every fiber of my being. It was soon going to be my turn and I would be exposed for the slacker I am.  After all, I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of the other Session members, the associate pastor and our new head pastor.  Finally it was my turn and I had to sheepishly admit I didn’t know exactly where in the Bible it was located but I loved the story of Jesus walking on the water and Paul stepping out of the boat and walking to him.  Now did you catch that?  It wasn’t Paul it was Peter but my old nemesis, fear had gotten the better of me once again! Oh, he and I had battled many times throughout my life.   The new pastor was very gracious and reminded me it was Peter and said he liked that story as well.  He offered to loan me his copy of John Ortberg’s book, “If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat”. I took him up on the offer.  I read it, liked it.  That scripture story has always resonated with me so I chose it as the Scripture for this morning’s message and of course I now know is located in:
Matthew: Chapter 14: 22-36. (The Message)
In the book of Matthew, the feeding of the Five Thousand immediate precedes the story of:
Jesus Walking on the Water
As soon as the meal was finished, he insisted that the disciples get in the boat and go on ahead to the other side while he dismissed the people. With the crowd dispersed, he climbed the mountain so he could be by himself and pray.  He stayed there alone, late into the night.
Meanwhile, the boat was far out to sea when the wind came up against them and they were battered by the waves.  At about three o’clock in the morning, Jesus came toward them walking on the water.  They were scared out of their wits.  “A ghost!” they said, crying out in terror.
But Jesus was quick to comfort them.  “Courage, it’s me.  Don’t be afraid.”
Peter, suddenly bold, said, “Master, if it is really you, call me to come to you on the water.”
He said, “Come ahead.”
Jumping out of the boat, Peter walked on the water to Jesus.  But when he looked down at the waves churning beneath his feet, he lost his nerve and started to sink.  He cried, “Master, save me!”
Jesus didn’t hesitate.  He reached down and grabbed his hand.  Then he said, “Faint-heart, what got into you?”
The two of the climbed into the boat, and the wind died down.  The disciples in the boat, having watched the whole thing, worshiped Jesus, saying, “This is it! Your are God’s Son for Sure!”

What a story!  It is simple and complex at the same time.  Peter was no stranger to boats or to the Sea of Galilee.  He was a fisherman before he left everything to become a disciple.  Many of the other disciples were also knowledgeable in the ways of the sea.  These men knew it was particularly dangerous to attempt to sail across the sea at night and must have wondered why Jesus would have asked them to cross to the other side so late in the evening.  From fishing for years, they knew storms were more likely to occur after dark and that is exactly what happened.  Let’s try to conjure up an image of the storm described in today’s Scripture.  It wasn’t a little rain shower; it was a furious squall with waves breaking over the boat so ferociously that the boat was nearly swamped. Needless to say, boats caught out in the sea are in immediate danger. Imagine the disciples sitting in that boat knowing their lives were in peril.  They were at the mercy of the elements when suddenly out of the darkness comes what appears to be a ghost walking on the water.  How could they have thought it was a ghost and not recognized Jesus?  Well, which is the case with so many of the Bible’s stories, we have the luxury of knowing the story.  We have the hindsight to know the figure approaching was Jesus.  They on the other hand, did not!  We really can’t be surprised they didn’t recognize him.  They were fighting for their lives with waves crashing in their faces. I don’t know about you, but I don’t find this an enviable position.  It’s three o’clock in the morning in the middle of a storm and suddenly they think they see a ghost.  Even though Jesus tells them to fear not, they remain justifiably terrified…  I’d like to depart from the Scripture story and share with you a time in my life when I was debilitated by fear just as the disciples were.   When I was in my mid-forties, life was chugging along just as I had hoped and prayed it would.  Janis, my wife, and I were living in a new home we loved, our daughter Kate was an honor student, outstanding musician and budding actress who, even as a teenager, was a joy to raise.  I was a respected kindergarten teacher and had recently become an adjunct professor at Portland State University and spent the summer traveling the country teaching a course on the implementation of the Standards and Practices of The National Council of Teachers of Mathematics for effective methodologies in mathematics instruction.  Life was good and even though I was thankful, I thought my success and the wonderful life we had was because I was in charge and had everything under control. I must confess at the time I was a card-carrying control freak.  As I said, things were under control and I was running on all cylinders.  But then, much like that night on the Sea of Galilee, a violent storm erupted in my life with one sentence from my doctor, “Harley, its cancer.”    Waves were suddenly crashing into my boat and I was quickly losing control.  A little six-letter word, cancer, started my world spinning out of control and I was shaken to the core because I was doing a great job running my life.  Please understand, I attended worship every week, studied my Bible and prayed with great regularity but in this situation I was just like the eleven disciples that huddled in the boat. Fear paralyzed me and I didn’t know where to turn or what to do. Instead of falling to my knees and asking God to help me, the control freak part of my personality kicked in and I went into research mode.  I read and studied everything I could find about the type of cancer I had and the treatment options that were available.  I seized control of the situation. I met with the doctor and was presented with a treatment plan of chemotherapy, and while it was, let’s say rather unpleasant, it was quite effective. But like the eleven, I had missed Christ walking right toward me.  I let fear blind me. If only I had reached my hand out to Him.  If I had only turned to God and let Him show me the way.  Suffice to say, 1996 was not the best year of my life physically and spiritually.   But let’s jump to the Harley that stands before you today. The present Harley is a changed, well, a changing man. Friends who have known me for years comment about see a difference in me.   Fear, particularly of cancer, no longer paralyses me.  This change didn’t come immediately and honestly I wish I could stand here and tell you had taken place much sooner than it did.  If it had, it would have been much easier to deal with the multiple occurrences between 1996 and 2012.  But that was then and now is now.  A slow transformation started about the time I began attending Calvin. I was welcomed into this community of believers with open arms and began to meet people.  I was connecting to worship in a way I hadn’t for years.  I literally couldn’t wait to get here on Sunday mornings.  Week after week it was as if Connie and Graham were inside my head and speaking the exact words I needed to hear.  So many times the prayer of humility or the opening chant would strike a chord with me.  Weekly Communion, something I always thought would diminish the significance of the meal, was resonating with me and I looked forward to it with great anticipation.  I found myself staring at the cross at the front of the sanctuary and connecting with Christ’s suffering, death and resurrection in a new and powerful way.  The combination of these factors played a significant role in the manner in which I would learn to deal with cancer  Last April I walked into my Urologist’s office a four-year check up and was told I had a recurrence of prostate cancer. You see, in 2007, as part of a physical and because of my age my doctor ordered a PSA screening.  I was diagnosed with prostate cancer but went through successful surgery and had been cancer free for three years. I went into the appointment last April confident that I was going get another positive report but then one little sentence changed all that.  “Harley your PSA indicates the cancer is back.” How could that be?  I had the most radical surgery available, had twenty biopsies of my abdominal lymph system and had followed the doctor’s orders to the letter of the law. Yet the cancer was back.  Initially I was thrown for a loop.  But with time and the power of the Holy Spirit, I eventually became relatively comfortable with the new recurrence.  That was until the end of summer and early fall.  That’s when it all changed. I was being plagued with debilitating fatigue that affected every aspect of my life. But somehow this time something was different. I felt the storm gathering in the distance.  The winds of fear and doubt were increasing but the the storm stayed in the distance.   The waves weren’t crashing into my boat. In spite of the fatigue I began to notice the power of the Holy Spirit working in my life.   It made me think of when I first came to faith as a twenty-one year old college senior and a friend told me there is no such thing as a coincidence in the life of Christian.  It is the Holy Spirit at work.  Believe you me, last fall; the actions of the Holy Spirit were everywhere I turned.  It takes me back to that boat in the middle of the Sea of Galilee.  Peter, the bold one, had the audacity to say, “If it’s you beckon me to come to you.”  Jesus did exactly that.  Without trepidation Peter stepped from that boat.  At least, he didn’t let the Messiah pass him by.  He responded to his call.  He had the courage to put fear aside and step out of the boat.  The liberator had freed him of fear.  He stepped onto the water and walked to Christ.  The fatigue brought on by the cancer allowed a sense of trepidation to grow in my life and it took all the courage I could muster to step out of my boat and reach for the hands of those who on Christ’s behalf were reaching out to help me. The Holy Spirit had put in place many people who were beckoning me to come to them and take their hand. Of course, I have the love and support of my wife and daughter who have been an endless fount of encouragement.  They have been there for me through all my cancer battles and have never waivered in their devotion to me. I will never be able to fully repay or give them enough thanks for all they’ve done for me.  As I said earlier, chemotherapy was unpleasant and often Janis and Katie bore the brunt of my discomfort and frustration.  When I, like Peter, would begin to doubt and start to sink, they would stretch out their hands and pull me up.

 The Holy Spirit placed before me the outstretched hands of the body of believers that help to make Calvin the special place it is.  I had the support of the men I had recently met by attending The Men’s Room.  They encouraged me and prayed for me. I will be ever grateful to those men who provided support to a newcomer and relative stranger.
Toni, what a blessing she has been.  We’ve known each other for years.  I have performed in musicals she has directed.  She seemed to know exactly when I needed a call of encouragement.  Through her phone calls and conversations, she stretched out her hand and lifted me up.  Coincidence?  No, not in the life of Christians.     Two others members of the Calvin Family who were reaching out are, without a doubt Graham and Connie.  Both of them stretched their hands out to me with words of encouragement and a blanket of prayer.  Early last fall Graham and I were sitting in his office talking.   In that conversation, he told me about Calvin’s Healing Prayer Ministry.  He suggested I talk with Connie to explore the possibility of bringing these prayer warriors into my battle with the cancer. In all honesty, the idea of meeting with them was somewhat disconcerting for me and I was somewhat reluctant to talk with Connie but eventually convinced myself I had nothing to lose except maybe a little control.  We spent the better part of an hour one morning discussing the work of the Healing Prayer Ministers.  My first question was – “Has the Holy Spirit gifted these people with healing?”  That wonderful smile of Connie’s spread across her face, as she gently replied, “No, they have the gift of prayer.”  I’m sure she was able to read the disappointment on my face.    She went on to explain that God would determine exactly what healing I needed and act accordingly.  I agreed to meet with them and I am sure your can surmise what healing I was hoping to receive.   Quite selfishly I was hoping for a miraculous cure and the cancer would be gone.  God knew better.  On my first meeting with Marie and Laurie, we talked about how I was feeling physically, emotionally and spiritually. Physically, I wasn’t experiencing any discomfort but the fatigue was beginning to impact every aspect of my life.  I was sleeping, not always soundly, anywhere from 12 to 16 hours a day but never felt rested. That is very uncharacteristic of me.  I usually fun full speed ahead and have energy to burn.   As we continued to talk it didn’t take long to determine my level of anxiety was very high. That was evidenced by the nightmares that were invading what little sleep I was getting and the restlessness that followed each of them.  We also determined my spirit was deflated.  I’m usually a pretty happy guy.  When I’m confronted with some obstacle or situation, I stop and think, in five years what effect will this have on my life.  If I’m going to be laughing about it in five years I might as well relax and laugh about it now.  Obviously, that strategy wasn’t working for me because five years from now this recurrence could have a significant impact on my life. We began to meet and pray and I have never had an experience like it.  Laurie and Marie met with me Tuesday morning after Tuesday morning and I cannot find the words to adequately express how those meetings changed my life.  Their prayers were genuine and pure and often left me in tears.  What amazed me the most was their investment in someone they hardly knew.  They are walking talking examples of Christ’s messengers extending a hand to me as I was sinking and pulling me up.  They taught me a great deal.  They taught me the power of centering prayer and suggested the use of a mantra to bring calmness to my mind and allow God to speak to me.  At the same time, I was reading Graham’s book, Discovering the Narrow Path and had just read about mantras.  It was also at that time he had us practice using a mantra as a part of one of his sermons.  Coincidence, I don’t think so.  It was the Holy Spirit providing me with opportunities to take the hands of Christ’s messengers and bring peace to my life.   The other gift Laurie and Marie gave to me was permission to pray on my own behalf.  Until that time most of my prayers were intercessory and prayers of thanksgiving.  I was very good at asking God to provide and care for others but somehow didn’t feel right about praying for my needs. These wonderful prayer warriors actually gave me words to pray that allowed me to come before God openly and honestly on my own behalf.  One powerful suggestion was as I was going to sleep I should pray that the healthy cells of my body would overtake the cancerous cells.  This opened up a new vista for me and allowed sound sleep to return.  The restless nights didn’t completely disappear but when I was awakened in the middle of the night I would go into my mantra, Bless the Lord, Oh my Soul.  Bless the Lord, Oh my Soul and my mind would become quiet and sleep would return.  It may sound strange but in my mind’s eye I actually can see a V of black begin to grow and lead me to my centered place where I was quiet and listened to God speak to me. These two women and the other members of the Healing Prayer Ministry are rare and I hope you all appreciate the blessing they are to so many people and are thankful for the powerful ministry they carry out.  I know I am.
 Fortunately, I am blessed to have others in my life who when I am like Peter and am overcome by fear and begin to sink, reach out in Christian love and pull me up.  There is my friend Eric whom I jokingly call my walking concordance.  He is always there when I need him.  It seems to me he knows when I need words of encouragement and is always there to provide them. Coincidence?  No, it is the Holy Spirit at work.  Eric is an inspiration that helps me and stretches out his hand when I allow fear to creep in and I start to sink.  Another rock in my life is my accountability partner, David.  David and I have met nearly every Saturday morning for the last thirteen years, we walk at North Park and confess to each other and then have breakfast together. Now here’s the groaner.  We meet at 5:30 a.m.  It is the only time we could find that no one else wanted.   He is always there for me and has been a rock throughout my various bouts with cancer.  He has the uncanny ability to say the things that I don’t always want to hear.  Recently when I got a little whiny about being sick again he said, “You my friend have beaten cancer five times because God intervened and answered the prayers that so many people lifted on your behalf. He went on to remind me of the power and strength available to me if I turned it over to God and let Him control the situation.  Not that I didn’t have to make informed decisions and be diligent in the treatment regimen but still allow God.  He also reminded me there are five families who are grieving the loss of their loved ones who did not survive their first occurrences.  Humbling to say the least. But, sometimes what we need to hear isn’t always the easiest thing to hear. 
In the time since the diagnosis of this latest recurrence, I have learned that peace comes when I relinquish control and ALLOW GOD. It should be very simple but it’s not.  All I can do is strive to extinguish my fear by relinquishing control and TRUST in God.  His majesty and might far exceed anything I can muster so why would I limit Him. I wish I could have learned these lessons after the first, second, third, fourth, or fifth occurrence and it isn’t as if I didn’t have Christian hands being extended to me then.  It’s just that I’m a little hard headed and sometimes I have to be hit with a 2X4 before I take notice.  What I am thankful for is God desires nothing more than for us to turn to him and as Bill said last week, “Whenever we turn to God, He is right there and He’s been there all along.  Our God is a good God who never turns away.  There are still times when fear starts to get the best of me and I begin to sink. But I know there are always hands being extended to pull me up, walk with me and provide the spiritual guidance and support I need.  Here’s one more example. The Holy Spirit even turned up in my voice lesson.  My voice teacher, Jeff, asked me to find the music for a particular song.  When I downloaded it and read the lyrics, I was reduced to tears.  Here’s the chorus: 
Is it the wind over my shoulder?
Is it the wind calling quietly?
Over the hilltops, down in the valley,
Never alone for your walk, with me.
No not alone. Not alone and I’ll never be.
Never alone for walk, you walk with me.

I am never alone.  The Holy Spirit has provided what seems like a never-ending stream of people who on Christ’s behalf extend their hands to me and pull me up when I begin to sink.
Those people help me live out Psalm 30:11-12
You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.  Oh, Lord, my God, I will give you thanks forever. 

A CoWorker Named Christ


by Bill Lambert, CEO of Mine Safety Appliances, Inc.
This is part of our "Preachers from the Pew" series during Lent


Intro
When Graham asked me to participate in his “Preaching from the Pew” Lenten sermon series I didn’t agree to it. I thought to myself, “What is it I have to say that anyone wants to hear about my spiritual journey? What might possibly interest or in some unimaginable way be of any help to anyone else? No way; forget it!” I thought. Graham persisted and we emailed each other back and forth. I wasn’t convinced. However, as I’ve tried to do in my life when I’m faced with a decision and the path isn’t clear to me, I said to Graham that I would “pray on it and get back to him.”
I did pray on it and a week went past, and then a little more than a week without any discernment on what I should do. I was delaying this decision and then inexplicably something really strange happened.
It was a sunny day mid‐week a few weeks ago and my car was filthy. I hadn’t washed it in weeks and honestly it looked like a salt lick for deer. I decided kind of spur of the moment that at lunch time, I’d run out to Jerry’s Car Wash in Cranberry and get my car washed. Seemed like a very convenient and clever plan to take care of something that needed taking care of over lunch. So, I pulled into Jerry’s and as I gave my car to the attendant and walked in to pay, who’s in there just ahead of me? You got it, our very own Reverend Graham Standish who also had the exact same idea to get his car washed at the same moment as me!! I thought, “Seriously?” I mean, what are the odds of this happening? There was no escaping him or delaying the discussion now.
So, as Graham and I sometimes do, we got into this spiritual journey discussion at Jerry’s Car Wash. Our cars came off the assembly line and rolled out of the building. The workers towel dried our cars and shined the tires, all the while Graham and I are still talking. More cars come off the assembly line and start to back up behind our cars. Finally, one of the attendants yells to us, “hey, your cars are done! You gotta get them out of here.” So, we finished our discussion, got in our cars and promised to talk a little more.
But I must say that it was in that short, but meaningful conversation ‐‐ and in my reflecting on whether it was coincidence or God’s providence that Graham and I meet at that moment to discuss this ‐‐ that I decided to say “okay, I’ll try it.” So, here I am! 

Prayer
Pray with me, please:
Holy and gracious God, you’ve called me to follow you and so I try. Bless my words today Lord that my discussion this morning at Calvin Church might resonate and be of some assistance to just one member who hears my story. That through my confession and
through my witness to Your glory, that they might seek you, as I did, and be drawn closer to you, as I was. In Christ’s name I pray, Amen. 

About Me
Let me introduce myself to you. My name is Bill Lambert. I’m 53 years old. I’m the son of a plumber, the middle of four boys to Wilber and Ada Lambert, I’m a husband to Sandy of almost 30 years, a father of two wonderful daughters, a past elder, a golfer, a dreamer, a procrastinator, a reader, a snowboarder and sometimes thrill‐seeker, an innovator, a business leader and ultimately I’m a Christian pilgrim on a spiritual journey, just like you.
While I’d love to talk to you about my wife, our daughters, my golfing prowess, or my snowboarding adventures, instead what I’m going to talk to you about this morning is my business life, what’s it’s like to be CEO of a public Company with $1.2 billion in sales, to have 5,500 employees in 42 countries around the world and how as a man and a Christian I’ve struggle with stress, bad decisions, feeling “down and out,” feeling absolutely overwhelmed and at my wits end, and having to make tough life‐impacting decisions for those who depend on my leadership.
I’ll talk to you about how I cope, how I stay spiritually centered, how I view leadership as a calling and in fact a ministry, and how I now look to Jesus Christ as a co‐worker, there beside me as my trusted advisor and counselor.
Back in the late ‘70’s, as I was studying to become a mechanical engineer I used to love to dream about making things. I would sketch and plan and dream. I wanted to learn about mathematics and apply physics in the ways that engineers did. I studied well, earned my bachelors degree in Mechanical Engineering, graduated with honors, passed my “Engineer in Training” exam, and was on the road to gaining my Professional Engineers license, which I successfully accomplished a few years later.
After a short stint as a design engineer at Westinghouse Air Brake Company, I joined MSA as a 23‐year old design engineer, designing life‐saving breathing apparatus that fire fighters wear. I loved it! I loved life!
I married my high school sweetheart, bought a small two bedroom house in Pleasant Hills, had great friends that I got together with socially, partied way too much and spent every cent I earned. Sandy and I were having a great time in life. I was pretty full of myself. Confidence was not something I lacked. Humility? Forget it.
Seven years out of college, I began to question where my career was headed. I wanted more. My ambition pushed me to drive harder; work harder; and play harder. I was leading teams at work and we were accomplishing some great things. I saw myself as someday moving out of engineering and taking on greater and greater roles in Marketing and Sales. And someday (and I could see it clearly) I envisioned me being a General Manager leading a small group of people in all aspects of business. Yes, that was my calling, to be the “boss”, the General Manager. 
In 1987, I applied for admission to the Carnegie‐Mellon Graduate School of Industrial Administration. At the time, it was ranked as the #7 MBA School in the nation; behind Harvard, Stanford, MIT, Wharton and the Kellogg school of business. It was challenging, but I got in. I found this MBA program fascinating, I loved the hard work, I loved the competition, I loved the pride that came from being associated with such a renowned school and surrounded by so many bright ambitious people all working their way up. And I did well! I was 29, I was aggressive and I was cutting a path for myself.
However, over those three years of working full time and going to CMU at night, the stress on my family and on me was intense. It was in that 1987‐1990 period, that I had what I term my “time in the crucible.” A crucible is what a metallurgist or an alchemist uses to transform a material under intense heat and pressure. These three years became my crucible where I transformed myself – but not necessarily for the “good.” 

HubrisI had major projects going on at work, more than one not going particularly smoothly. Sandy and I had been trying to start a family and failed consistently. But just as I started graduate school, she became pregnant (with Emily). My mother, who had suffered a series of strokes, became progressively sicker during these years. In my second year of grad school, October 1988, she passed away only hours after Emily, 10‐months old at the time, took her first steps into my mother’s arms. The next spring, Sandy and I moved from Pleasant Hills where she was close to her mother, sister and a support network all the way up to Cranberry Township (in the “far north”), which might not sound like a big deal today, but for a South Hills girl back then (before I‐279) it was a really big deal. In November of ’89, Kelly was born. I was in a demanding job, still in Grad School, still extremely self‐centered, starting a family, in a new house in a new neighborhood, had lost my mother, was losing my father emotionally and had barely enough money to get by.
At the time, I thought it was by my great strength and perseverance that I was being transformed in this crucible. God had nothing to do with it. It was all me. I graduated with my MBA, was a hot commodity, had a number of job offers, and was clearly on a new path.
I broke out of Engineering just as I said I would. I entered Marketing and Sales and was speeding toward fulfilling my vision of someday being the “boss,” the general manager.
Trouble is, I had no idea just how right my vision was, or how fast it would come to me, or how many bad decisions I would make along the way. I was working hard, I was going out after work and I was making a lot of bad decisions that was affecting my family.
Within 6 years, I had held numerous marketing positions, was promoted multiple times, led multi‐national teams, was working closely with the CEO, led the acquisition of two competitive companies, was promoted twice in the same year and by December of 1996,
was named corporate Vice President and General Manager of the company’s largest division. I’m 38 and my “vision” had been realized!
Within two years as General Manager, the company had lost a major defense contract, which caused us to shutdown a factory in Rhode Island. We completely changed our selling strategy, causing us to shutdown regional sales and distribution offices around the country. One of the acquisitions we made was losing money and the other was struggling. To add insult to injury, we decided to completely revamp our information technology system, implementing an all new global enterprise resource planning system for all our business transactions. We weren’t prepared for it and business processes came to a standstill. As you can imagine, it all brought us to our knees, literally. Here I was the Company’s youngest ever general manager leading the company’s largest division, and running it right into the ground! During that time, the division under my leadership went from being the most profitable in the Company to reporting a $10 million loss!
I was traveling a ton. I was drinking a lot. I wasn’t being successful at leading my Division. And worst of all, I wasn’t acting like the father or the husband I wanted to be. I nearly destroyed our marriage and I nearly lost myself along the way. My crucible had transformed me alright, but in a way that was further from God, further from my family and further from who I really wanted to be. 

ReckoningI always considered myself somewhat of a prayerful person and I felt that since the time I was confirmed and accepted Christ as my savior, that I always had a very close and personal relationship to God. I would talk to him, especially during my quiet time.
But during these particular years, I actually spoke less often to God. I turned to Him less. I prayed less. And yet I seemed to be searching more – in all the wrong places.
I needed help. My family knew it; my friends knew it; and most fortunately for me, God knew it! So what would you do in that situation? Somehow I thought “Time Management” was my salvation. If only I could manage my time better, everything would be okay. 

The TurnIt was late 1997 and by some strange turn of events I ended up in a “time management seminar” in Boston, Massachusetts. I think at the time I thought maybe better time management would help me. The name of the course was “First Things First”, maybe some of you have read that book, or attended a similar seminar by Steven Covey.
To be honest the course was lost on me. Today, I can’t tell you a thing about better time management and I don’t think I’m any better today at it than I was back then. But what I can tell you is that I’m fairly certain that God spoke to me as I sat in that hotel ballroom attending that course. It wasn’t through an old man sitting next to me who looked like
George Burns. It was much more subtle, like a voice within me responding to the prompts I was hearing.
What I heard which resonated completely with me, was this concept of:
  • Make the choice of who you choose to be from this day forward; not who you’ve been, but who you choose to be;
  • Write a contract with yourself describing that person;
  • Decide what your priorities are (the things you’ll take care of “first”); and
  • Review that list every day; take steps to reinforce those priorities, like a bricklayer constantly putting grout back in where the wind and rain tries to wash it away.
    It was one of those moments of perfect clarity that came over me. I wasn’t in church, I wasn’t reading the Bible, and I wasn’t listening to a pastor, but the message coming to me I believe was from God. I think it was God calling me back to Him.
    That night in my hotel room, I prayed and I cried for what I had become as a husband, father and business leader. I asked God for forgiveness and I asked for His help.
    This voice inside of me was telling me to grow up and grow towards God; to make a choice; to get myself centered on Him; to get my priorities straight; to put my “first things first”; and He was calling me to ACT NOW on this message. I suddenly felt the Holy Spirit was alive in me!
    That night I wrote a contract with myself; printed it out the next morning in the hotel business center; signed it; dated it; made a few copies of it for each of my portfolios I carry around; laminated it (because I’m an engineer!) and have carried it with me ever since to every meeting I go to. I look at it frequently. I am reminded by the priorities I established and I’m guided by what I said I’d be nearly 15 years ago.
    On my “First Things First” list – right there in the middle – is the statement: “Having a personal relationship with Christ and trusting Him to guide me in my life’s decisions.”
    I’m holding up one of those laminated copies of my contract that I carry around with me. I’ve shared this with a few people over the years and I’ll give you a copy if you’d like after church. It’s fifteen years old this year and I’ve often thought about revising it, but I haven’t. This represents a particular moment in my life, an anchoring point if you will and an anchoring point in my walk with God. That’s special to me. It almost feels like an anniversary of sorts.
    There are three sections to my contract. It all fits on one page. There’s a section for my “Personal Life Statement”; a section for my “Professional Life Statement”; and a section
called my “First Things First” list. This contract became a vow that I made to myself, my family, and to God. I was reminded by the scripture verse, “Better that you should not vow than that you should vow and not fulfill it!”
As I look back on it, it’s in a way very secular, but I share it with you because it’s what got me centered at a time when I was off the path. It adjusted my path by just a few degrees and I feel it put me back on a path toward God.
What my first things first list caused me to wrestle with was that my role on this earth was a special calling, as a father, as a husband, as a Christian, and as a business leader. I needed to be able to exist in this secular world, be a Christian, have God lead me and make a difference in the life of those I touched – “yes,” those would become my new marching orders! 

Prayer Makes All the Difference
Brother Lawrence, in “The Practice of the Presence of God,” wrote: In the midst of your work console yourself with God as often as you can. During your meals and your conversations, lift your heart towards God from time to time; the slightest little remembrance will always be very pleasant to God... We do not have to constantly be in church to be with God. We can make a prayer room into which we can retire from time to time to converse with God gently, humbly, lovingly. Everyone is capable of these familiar conversations with God – some more, some less. God knows what our capabilities are. Let us begin (then), for perhaps God is only awaiting a generous resolve on our part.
I felt that God was just waiting for me to take that step. To seek Him, to pray more frequently, to ask anything of Him – strength, forgiveness, wisdom, compassion, resolve. I learned that tough decisions and tough situations were helped immensely by me going to God in prayer. These frequent, “familiar conversations” as Brother Lawrence likes to call them, became incredibly helpful to me as I tried to fulfill my vows expressed in my First Things First contract. 

Leadership as a Choice and the Opportunity It Provides

Management is not something you do to other people. You might manage your inventory, your checkbook, your time, and your resources. You can even manage yourself and your attitude. But you do not manage other human beings. You manage things; you lead people. And you lead them NOT by motivating them with money, position, or titles. No, I think the best leadership INSPIRES people. It inspires them to advance a mission, to achieve something meaningful and aspirational, to be more than they could be by themselves.
The life and works of Jesus Christ INSPIRES us and it personally inspires me to be better, to be more loving, more forgiving, and more generous. It inspires me in that I find myself asking, “How might I be more like Him in how I view my family, my business situation, the world?”
When you’re in a leadership position you have a responsibility to the people entrusted to your care. Sometimes it can feel a little overwhelming. When I think about the 5,500 families that I influence by my leadership decisions – more if I include all the shareholders, suppliers and customers that our Company impacts – it can be a little humbling.
But I must tell you it is also be an awesome, energizing responsibility! Think about it, employees spend roughly half their waking hours working and living in the environment you create as a leader. Wow!! What a great opportunity Leaders have to advance God’s mission on Earth!
In the end, I think Leadership is the skill of inspiring people to work enthusiastically toward goals they are attracted to; goals they see as righteous and good. But paradoxically, Jesus said that to lead, you must be willing to serve and to make sacrifices.
We have to Make the Choice of who we choose to be and how we choose to lead a Christ‐centered life! Just as I made a choice over 14 years ago.
Jerome Brunner, noted Harvard psychologist, said, “We are more likely to act ourselves into a feeling than feel ourselves into an action.” What he was saying is that our behaviors influence our thoughts and our feelings. Think about that. If you act out in a certain way – if you consistently behave in a certain way toward someone or something – it will ultimately determine how you “feel” about that person.
Social psychologists call it the “power of Praxis”. And it’s what I’ve tried to do as I fulfill my First Things First vow. 

A New Way to RespondLet me give you an example. A little more than ten years after I had signed my First Things First contract, I was faced with a very difficult situation at work. The year is 2008, I’ve just been elected by the Board to be the CEO and we – all of us – are on the brink of the worst global economic recession in our lifetime. The financial markets begin to collapse in the Spring of that year. By September, Lehman Brothers falls and that’s when the bottom falls out of the economy.
Parts of our business were staggered by the suddenness in the evaporation of orders. Our hard hat sales were down 50% in November from a year earlier. December they were down 55% from a year earlier. The U.S. economy was shedding jobs at the rate of 800,000 workers per month! We make products that keep people safe while they work. And there were less and less workers needing to be protected.
As the leader of our Company, I had some difficult decisions to make. Keep people on, or follow suit and lay them off. Or maybe, seek God’s help and pray about it.
I did pray about it. And what we did wasn’t exactly “following suit.” We had to cut back, but we started only with the temporary workers and the contractors. We went into our budgets and eliminated all of the discretionary spending we could. In the Spring of 2009, we kept most everyone on the payroll and advanced maintenance schedules to keep them busy. We instituted a voluntary retirement incentive program for those who were approaching retirement eligibility. We actually gave a 2.5% pay raise to our factory and hourly workers in 2009! Management on the other hand didn’t get a raise. In fact, I went to them and asked everyone above a certain grade level to take a pay cut. I would lead with a 20% pay cut, executives below me with a 10% pay cut and those who reported to them with a 5% pay cut. We temporarily suspended our 401k company matching contributions, but we kept our pension program fully funded.
There were lots of actions we had to take, some big and some small. By March of 2009, I went to the workforce and said, “That’s it, no more cutting. From here on out we weather this storm together and we make ourselves stronger!”
We made a profit in 2009, but it wasn’t a lot.
When I presented my 2010 profit plan budget to the Board, it called for even less profit to be made in 2010. They said, “What?!?” I felt in my heart that we had weathered the worst of the storm and now we needed to invest in our people and in our programs. And so we did.
2011 was a record year for our Company. And 2012 will be even better. Our 2011 employee engagement survey scores were the highest ever and our people voted our Company one of the Best Places to Work in Pittsburgh. 

Lessons Learned
I learned a few lessons during this “Great Recession”, as we like to refer to it.
  1. Seek God’s help in prayer in every difficult situation; before every difficult decision.
  2. Leadership is not about personality, possessions, or charisma, but all about who you are as a person. I used to believe that leadership was about style and flair, but now I know that leadership is about substance, namely character and authenticity.
And the character issues are those Paul taught us in 1 Corinthians: patience, kindness, humility, selflessness, respectfulness, forgiveness, honesty, and commitment. These character building blocks, or habits, must be developed, practiced and matured if we are to become successful leaders who will stand the test of time.
Paul wrote nearly two thousand years ago that, in the end, only three things matter: faith, hope and love. And the greatest of these is love. Love – not in how we feel, but in how we behave and treat each other.
  1. The third lesson I learned is that our thoughts ultimately guide who we are and that our actions speak louder than our words. In the Dhammapada, Buddha is reported to have said:
    (Your) thought manifests (themselves) as (your) words; (Your) words manifests (itself) as (your) deeds;
    (Your) deeds develop into habit;
    And habit hardens into character;

    (And your character becomes your destiny);
    So watch (your) thought(s) and its ways with care,
    And let it spring from love born out of concern for all beings.

    As the shadow follows the body, As we think, so we become.
  2. My “First Things First” contract became my vow with God and to myself. It became an anchoring point. And the true security for that anchoring point came from God.
So, I would ask you to think how important it is to maybe have a personal mission statement of your own – your own “First Things First” contract. One which defines what you are about and what you stand for. 

My Path Is not the Same as Yours

Brother Lawrence in “The Practice of the Presence of God” wrote, “All things are possible to him who believes; they are less difficult to him who hopes; they are easier to him who loves; and they are easier still to him who perseveres in the practice of all three virtues – belief, hope and love. There is no way for you to have too much trust in so good and so faithful a friend as Jesus Christ, for He will never fail you, not in this world or the next.”
And Thomas à Kempis, in “The Imitation of Christ,” wrote: Blessed are the ears that are attuned to the soft whisper of God’s voice and that ignore the buzzing of the world. Blessed indeed are the ears that pay no attention to outside clamor, but listen to the truth teaching from within. Blessed are the eyes that are closed to outside things, but are intent on inner things. Blessed are they who plumb their own depths and by daily efforts prepare themselves to understand the secrets of heaven. Blessed are they who are completely free to attend to God and who have shaken off everything that stands in their way. Mark these things, my soul; be silent, and visit the quiet recesses of your own heart. It is there that you will hear God’s voice.
At our home, in our bedroom, I have a very peaceful lithograph of an empty canoe tied to its mooring on a glassy calm lake with a soft morning fog burning off as the sun rises. It’s quite a beautiful and peaceful scene. Below that photograph is inscribed the words from Psalms 46:10 “Be Still, and Know that I am God.”
“Be Still, and Know that I am God” reminds me that we are finite, and that God is infinite. As a leader it’s okay to surrender, to relax, to “chill out” and to know that God cares for us and desires that we may enjoy a calm confidence centered in Him.
Catherine Marshall in “Beyond Ourselves” wrote, “God deals differently with each of us. He knows no “typical” case. He seeks us out at a point in our own need and longing and runs down the road to meet us. This individualized treatment should delight rather than confuse (or scare) us, because it so clearly reveals the highly personal quality of God’s love and concern (for each one of us).”
Friends, we each have our own path. Maybe your path will take you through a car wash, as it did me. But realize that my path is not your path. The great news for each of us is that God is there to walk with us on our own personal path – in life, in business, in our social circles, in our families.
My prayer for each of you today is that your path might be adjusted by even a few degrees as the result of having spent this time together this morning. A few degrees may not make much of a difference on a short journey, but for the long journey of life it may well put you in a completely different place, as it did me.
May God continue to bless you on your journey ahead. Amen!