Skeletons in My Closet (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

My hometown has some skeletons in its closet.

Our histories are immutable. We can pretend they didn’t happen or that they happened differently than they did. We can even take steps to hide our histories—but the reality of them cannot be changed. They are what they are. Do you know any humans who have a spotless history?

Everybody has something they wish would never come to light. 

Each time I settle in to read the current issue of Paducah Life—the magazine of my old Kentucky home—I am drawn to those articles looking back at area history. It’s never an exercise for the weak of spirit. There are plenty of commendable moments in Paducah’s history. But there are plenty of the other, too.

Kentucky was a “border state” during the Civil War, which means the state elected to not choose a side in the conflict. That’s sounds commendable—to choose to not fight a war—but that’s not how it was viewed at the time. The Union and the Confederacy were each incensed that Kentucky refused to align with its side. Perhaps it would have been an acceptable situation had it ended there. The Union, however, believed (correctly) that losing Kentucky to the Confederacy would be a disaster from which it could not recover—and the Confederacy knew it. 

Consequently, many a bloody battle was fought there.

One Paducah Life article illustrated just the kind of tension that existed during the Union occupancy. Union General Lew Wallace (later, the author of all-time bestseller Ben Hur) found himself at the center of a near brawl between Union and Confederate army officers. It started over the fact that a Paducah citizen had hung the Confederate Stars and Bars from his window—in the face, so to speak, of the Union army. When he refused to take it down, Union officers had it forcibly removed and tore it into pieces. They cast the pieces at the feet of some Confederate officers who were in Paducah under flag of truce.

 

I think you can imagine how that was received in what was already a powder keg.

I relate this story, not to open a discourse on any of the issues that prevailed in that day, nor about those that prevail in our own time. But rather to point out that everyone, every locale, every nation has history of which we are ashamed. 

 

It was no different for the Children of Israel.

 

This week’s selections from Isaiah and Psalms recognize the infidelity that plagued the history of their relationship with God. They are only a small sample of the times and ways in which God’s people failed some rather simple relational requirements. 

 

While it is appropriate to read and learn from those bad choices and behaviors, we must also see what else is in that prophecy and that psalm: hope. There is a real desire to be better people. They want a better relationship with God. While looking back at their true history, they are also looking forward to that time when God’s anger will abate, when God will find a way for them to reconcile, when God will rescue them from their own sins.

This is the pattern for followers of Jesus. We, too, must view our past and present clearly, honestly. And we must look forward with that same hope. 

This is Advent.

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PHOTO - cover of “Paducah and the Civil War” (source of the Paducah Life story about General Lew Wallace and the flag incident):

https://www.amazon.com/Paducah-Civil-Military-Philip-Cashon-ebook/dp/B01MDO5OVG/ref=sr_1_1?crid=15PLS1HAS4GDF&keywords=Paducah+and+the+civil+war&qid=1701374138&s=digital-text&sprefix=paducah+and+the+civil+war%2Cdigital-text%2C102&sr=1-1

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Join us Friday morning at DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. As we enter the season of Advent, we look forward with hope for the return of Jesus. Our Friday breakfasts are just one way in which we do that corporately. We meet on Zoom** and at Our Breakfast Place. Gather with us at 8:00 for a time of fellowship, food, and God’s word.

 

Blessings,

Steve

 

 **Contact me for the Zoom link

NOTE: Zoom allows you to mute the camera and the microphone if you don’t wish to be seen or heard.

 

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY AND THE COMING WEEK

Find them here: 

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=48

 

Print them from here:

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/pdf//Bx_FirstSundayofAdvent.pdf

 

Isaiah 64:1-9

Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19

1 Corinthians 1:3-9

Mark 13:24-37

First Sunday of Advent (December 3, 2023)

 

Thanksgiving at Memmie’s (a Steve Orr reflection inspired by Deuteronomy 8:7-18)

We woke up excited. 

Our usual days were simple. Mama, Daddy, Connie and I lived in a tiny house, on a busy corner, in an un-zoned neighborhood. I don’t mean to imply we were poor; just that there were no frills in our day-to-day lives. Money went for necessities. There wasn’t any extra. And in this, we weren’t that different from our relatives. Some had a little more; some a little less. But for all of us, Thanksgiving was a day of plenty. Likely, all the children in all their houses were waking up just like us: energized and ready to go.

First, it was the start of a four-day weekend; no school and, usually, no homework. Second, or maybe this should’ve been first, we were going to Memmie’s! It’s not like we never went to Memmie’s. It just that Thanksgiving at Memmie’s farm was always special. Other visits usually involved doing chores or helping out in some way—there was always something that needed fixing, feeding, planting, harvesting, painting, moved, or mowed. After all, Memmie, who was Mama’s grandmother, was quite elderly. But, even as little kids, we knew not to bring that up. It was a sore spot, Memmie living out there all by herself. Or as good as. Aunt Lucy, younger but frailer, lived in the little house behind the big house and was almost no help. Just how much help could she be if Memmie needed someone in the night? That’s what the grownups said when they were sure neither of the sisters could hear. 

Not a lick of that was on our minds that Thanksgiving morning, as we dressed for cool weather and helped load side dishes into the backseat of our car. Dad pulled down the station wagon’s tailgate, and we piled pillows and blankets into the cargo space—and the two of us climbed in with them. Once Dad closed us in, we formed pillows and blankets into makeshift seats. A big part of the fun on that journey was riding backwards and looking out the rear window. It was a special treat on a special day. 

Memmie’s farm was one town over and out in the country. It seemed a long drive to us kids. We were encouraged to keep ourselves occupied with I-Spy and spotting out-of-state license plates. We also watched for the Burma Shave signs; reading them backwards was a sure bet to send us into giggles. 

Our biggest hope was that we weren’t the first ones to arrive: that meant we had to “help out” instead of play. Better to be second, or even third. That way, the number of cousins reached the critical mass where parents wanted us out from under foot. Soon enough, we made enough racket that some grownup shouted, “No horseplay in the house!” This, of course, was shortly followed by the phrase we longed to hear: “You kids go outside!”

Outside was cold, but we were all dressed for it. Besides, in no time, we were playing tag, climbing trees, running back to see the chickens, or grinding seed corn in the crib. Cold? What cold? We kept up these kinds of things until, magically, it was time for lunch. Granny, Mama’s mama, would step out on the big, raised front porch and yell, “Dinnn-ER!

And the stampede began. 

We all ate until we were full—and then we ate some more. There was, of course, Turkey; a huge thing, with lots of jostling to see who could get one of the giant drumsticks, usually two of the older kids. We didn’t stuff our turkeys; we ate pan-roasted dressing with giblet gravy. There were always other meats, as well; baked ham, fried chicken. As big as that turkey was, it couldn’t stretch to feed our whole tribe. Side dishes included cranberry salad and cranberry sauce, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, creamed corn, deviled eggs, three-bean salad, hot biscuits, “regular” green beans (fork tender), corn-on-the-cob, and fruit salad. Plus, there were always a few surprise dishes from the more adventurous cooks. 

Then, after trying to eat at least a little of everything, we, somehow, crammed in some dessert. Pecan pie was the king of the day, loaded up with layer after layer of pecan halves with just enough sugary Karo Syrup to hold ‘em together. But its court included pumpkin, apple, and cherry pies; plus various cream pies (with meringue piled high), and even some cakes. If I was lucky, someone brought a chess pie. There were a limited number of these desserts; so, you really couldn’t sample them all. We had to set priorities and go for those if we wanted to eat what tickled our palate.

In the afternoon, we all drifted into the living room where Memmie’s pot-bellied, coal burning stove held pride of place. It was way too hot for us kids in the middle of that room—plenty warm enough on the edges—so we steered clear of it unless pressed into coal loading service. Eventually, though, the lethargy of our meal began to wear off and we were once again herded outside to “run it off.” As the sun began to move down the western sky, we started to actually notice the falling temps. This was nowhere more noticeable than when we had to visit the outhouse; now, that was cold! But, at least everyone, young or old, had to make the same trek for the same reasons.

Finally, dusk crept into our day and it was time for leftovers. We streamed to the big table in the kitchen, but not with quite the gusto of lunch. We had, in fact, run off the earlier meal, but we were starting the return to our usual lives; sandwiches were enough for that supper. As darkness arrived, we were all pressed into service for the cleanup. Extra tables and chairs were loaded into car trunks, as were a portion of the leftovers; everyone left with lots of food, regardless how little or much they brought.

The two of us rejoined our backward-facing nest for the trip home; but with little to see at night, we soon fell asleep in the back of the station wagon, nestled among our blankets and pillows. My final memory of the day was of rousing a tiny bit as I was being carried from the car to the bed, feeling warmed, and filled, and loved.

 

Closing the Space Race Gap (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

What if the Russians had been the first nation to land on the Moon?

 

That’s the premise of Apple TV’s series, For All Mankind. That one departure from our actual history—it occurs early in the very first episode—changes everything. What happens next is stunning. We continue the Apollo rocket program well beyond what we actually did. That leads to many changes: new astronaut program, new faces, new leaders, new roles for women and people of color. Eventually, even different Presidents occupy the White House than in our reality.  

 

But some things don’t change, like the need for spacecraft to dock with each other out in the void. That is a lengthy, difficult, and highly-structured process, even in our real timeline. It can take days to accomplish. At the end, it’s moving mere inches for excruciatingly slow periods of time. We see it when astronauts attempt to dock with the International Space Station. It’s made even longer because, at multiple points, fresh permissions must be obtained before proceeding. 

 

I think most of us believe getting to God works much the same way: full speed toward God; stop and wait; get more permissions; slow our approach; stop again; get even more permissions. And then, right when we think we have finally made it, jumped through all the hoops, we're told to wait—again. We see God as the International Space Station, floating majestically out in space, expending no energy at all, just awaiting our approach. We see ourselves as the rocket, expending all the energy to connect with God. But we have a fundamental misunderstanding about God.

 

God does not expect us to "do all the work." The scriptures are clear on this, in both the Old Testament and the New. James writes, "Draw near to God and God will draw near to you." Don't get the wrong idea, though; it's not a quid pro quo. Look at the father in the parable about the prodigal son: As soon as he sees his son "still a long way from home," he runs to his son, meeting him well down the road.  

 

That is the spirit in this week’s scriptures, especially Ezekiel 34 and Psalm 95. God wants us. We are welcome. God is not waiting for us to execute a painstaking series of maneuvers to approach him. He is searching for us, looking down the road, ready to run to us at first sighting. God does this for all mankind, for all womankind, for all humankind. 

 

Start your approach. God will take care of the docking.

 

 

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PHOTO:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Gm09IPlQPU

Info on the NASA/SpaceX collaboration: 

https://www.nasa.gov/press-release/nasa-s-spacex-crew-1-astronauts-headed-to-international-space-station/

More about docking with the International Space Station:

https://www.howitworksdaily.com/docking-with-the-iss/

The SpaceX ISS Docking:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2020/11/16/spacex-crew-dragon-docking-iss-live-updates/?outputType=amp

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There is no Lectionary Breakfast the Friday after Thanksgiving. 

We resume the first Friday in December. You are welcome to join us at DaySpring’s Friday morning Lectionary Breakfast. We gather at 8:00 on Zoom and at Our Breakfast Place for an hour of great fellowship. We eat, we read and discuss scripture, and we laugh—truly an hour like no other. 

 

Blessings,

Steve

 

 **Contact me for the Zoom link:

NOTE: Zoom allows you to mute the camera and the microphone if you don’t wish to be seen or heard.

 

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY AND THE COMING WEEK

Find them here: 

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=170

 

Print them from here:

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/pdf//Ax_ReignofChristProper29.pdf

 

Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24

Psalm 100

Psalm 95:1-7a

Ephesians 1:15-23

Matthew 25:31-46

REIGN OF CHRIST (November 26, 2023)

26th Sunday after Pentecost—Proper 29 (34)

 

 

Warrior Code of the Samurai? Who Cares? (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

In feudal Japan, “samurai” referred to a “retainer.” That’s someone who accompanied a lord, had pledged fealty to that lord, and served that lord in close attendance. Samurai means, essentially, “to wait upon the lord.” 

Though different in some ways, it would not be wrong to think of a samurai as a knight. 

The Hagakure is a Japanese book that captures the warrior code of the samurai known as “Bushido.” It’s a practical and spiritual guide for the warrior. It has been said of Bushido that, even today, it is Japan, that it captures the heart of all that truly matters to its culture.  

 

So, is everyone in Japan a warrior? Well, no. But in their worldview, everyone is either a lord or a retainer. There are few lords and many retainers. A book delving into what makes one the ideal retainer could easily be the heart of that culture. What is it about this book—on the surface about warriors—that makes it the cultural guide for almost everyone in Japan?

 

It’s surprisingly simple: Everyone, from the most skilled to the least, can hold a place of honor in the culture. To quote the Hagakure: "Even a person who is good for nothing and exceedingly clumsy will be a reliable retainer if only he has the determination to think earnestly of his master."

 

If only the one-talent servant in this week's Matthew selection had been able to access the Hagakure. Perhaps if he had been keeping his mind fixed on what was best for his master, he would have made a better choice concerning the one talent he had.  

 

Why does it matter to us?

 

When we stop focusing on what could go wrong, and instead focus on what God intended for us to do with our talents—even if we feel it’s just one talent—we should be able to make the wise choice.

 

We need only think earnestly of our master.

 

 

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PHOTO (Samurai Warrior in armor and more about Bushido):

https://www.kosmosjournal.org/kj_article/samurai-spirit/

 

More about the Hagakure:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/277950.Hagakure

 

 

Some interesting reading about Japan’s most popular (fictional) samurai, “Lone Wolf and Cub”:

https://www.japantimes.co.jp/culture/2016/10/08/books/book-reviews/lone-wolf-cub-japans-greatest-samurai-manga/#.WhDHL2hMGEc

 

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DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast is a fun and interesting way to start the weekend. We dig into the scriptures for the coming Sunday, ask questions and seek their relevance for our lives. Join us Friday morning at 8:00 on Zoom** and in person at Our Breakfast Place. It’s an hour like no other.

 

Blessings,

Steve

 

 **Contact me for the Zoom link:

https://us02web.zoom.us/j/89947678414

NOTE: Zoom allows you to mute the camera and the microphone if you don’t wish to be seen or heard.

 

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY AND THE COMING WEEK

Find them here: 

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=169

 

Print them from here:

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/pdf//Ax_Proper28.pdf

 

Judges 4:1-7

Psalm 123

Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18

Psalm 90:1-8, (9-11), 12

1 Thessalonians 5:1-11

Matthew 25:14-30

Proper 28 (33) (November 19, 2023)

 

Different River, Same Choice (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

Greek philosopher Heraclitus advised: “No man ever steps in the same river twice.” As time passes, rivers continue to flow and people continue to change. At any later point, “It's not the same river, and he's not the same man.” 

What if the man is crossing the river? What is the effect of delaying that first step into the waters? That was the situation in 49 BC when a fellow named Julius considered adding “Caesar” to his name. He led his army to the edge of a small river, the Rubicon. As long as they stayed on one side of the river, all would be as it had been. But should they decide to cross the Rubicon, well.… 

The penalty for just crossing that river would be death, not only for Julius, but for every soldier in his service.

 

Whichever choice Julius made would have consequences. If he decided to stay on his side of the Rubicon, nothing would change—and change was needed. If he did cross the Rubicon, everything would change—and there would be no turning back. 

 

It was, truly, the point of no return.

 

Today, when someone says "cross the Rubicon," there is no actual river involved. When we say it, we mean a decision must be made that cannot be taken back. Once made, we will have to face the consequences of the decision—and live with them from that moment on. But don’t be fooled: Not making a decision is also a decision. And the consequences for not choosing may be just as costly—maybe more so.

 

That’s what’s happening in this week's Joshua passage. Joshua first calls together all the leaders of Israel. He reminds them of all God has done for them: the exodus from their slavery in Egypt, the provision of their needs during the wilderness years, and the gift of the Promised Land. 

 

Then Joshua invites them to "cross the Rubicon."

 

"Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve. As for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.” 

 

God wants each of us to make that choice. Will we commit to God, or will we choose another path? It’s a decision we make of our own free will. Do we yield our hearts as the Israelites were invited to do? Or do we, by action or inaction, decide to do something else? Time passes and circumstances change. We change. But at some point each of us comes to our own Rubicon, our moment of decision. It’s not the size of our Rubicon that matters—it may seem inconsequential, perhaps no more than a “trickle.” It’s the consequences of the choice we make that really matters. Do we turn back? 

Or do we cross it—and change everything?

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PHOTO of the Rubicon River as it is, today, in northern Italy. There’s even a bridge you can use to cross it. Also, a brief history of Caesar’s actions that day and afterword:

https://www.italyonthisday.com/2020/01/caesar-crosses-rubicon-fiume-rubicone.html?m=1

 

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Join us Friday morning for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. We meet on Zoom** and in person at Our Breakfast Place. We gather at 8:00 and enjoy an hour of Bible, discussion, food, fellowship, and laughter.

 

Blessings,

Steve

 

 **Contact me for the Zoom link:

NOTE: Zoom allows you to mute the camera and the microphone if you don’t wish to be seen or heard.

 

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY AND THE COMING WEEK

Find them here: 

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=168

 

Print them from here:

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/pdf//Ax_Proper27.pdf 

 

Joshua 24:1-3a, 14-25

Psalm 78:1-7

Amos 5:18-24

Psalm 70

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

Matthew 25:1-13

Proper 27 (32) (November 12, 2023)

 

 

 

Follow the Leader (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

When we were kids, we played a game called "Follow the Leader."  

 

We lined up behind the leader and then did as he or she led us. It was a mimicking game: We had to match what the leader did, go where the leader went, in exact imitation. Anyone who failed to mimic accurately the path and actions of the leader was "out" and had to leave the line. The last person still following the leader was then designated the winner and, often as not, became the new leader in the game.

 

As children, it was a game. But as adults we find we are also called upon to follow the leader. We have several leaders in our lives: at work, at church, in the community, the state, and the nation, among others. Frequently, we are told whom our leaders are, but sometimes we choose them or participate in an election in which the majority decides.

 

Mostly, we understand what is expected of us with regard to our leaders, and we do it. But what is a leader? How do we identify that person? There’s a great little book with the intriguing name “You Don’t Need a Title to Be a Leader.” Author Mark Sanborn suggests that, somewhat like in our childhood game, real-life leaders are the ones people are following. Most experts agree with that generalization. What makes Sanborn stand out from all the rest is that he calls for people to just go ahead and lead, not waiting for someone to confer upon them the title of leader.

 

But what, you may ask, about all those who are elected or appointed? Aren't they leaders? That question brings us to this week's selection from the book of Joshua. Moses has recently died, just short of the Promised Land. Israel no longer has a leader. When the book of Joshua opens, God tells Joshua that he will become the leader of the Israelites. That’s not much of a surprise, not to us and almost certainly not to Joshua. He has been part of the general leadership for several years and Moses’ second-in-command. 

 

To his credit, Joshua immediately begins to perform the duties of the office. Which makes the statements in the opening verses of Joshua chapter 3 seem a bit odd. It sounds like God is repeating Himself. But there is a different process at work. God is not repeating Joshua’s appointment as leader of Israel.

 

By having Joshua be the one who instructs the priests to walk into the Jordan River, God started the process of drawing followers to Joshua. The miracle that followed became associated with Joshua's leadership, and it did indeed "exalt" Joshua in the sight of Israel. Then, after everyone crossed over to dry ground and Joshua commanded the priests to come up out of the Jordan River, the waters came flooding back. "That day the Lord exalted Joshua in the sight of all Israel; and they stood in awe of him all the days of his life, just as they had stood in awe of Moses." Here's the difference: In chapter 1, God formally appointed Joshua the leader. In chapter 3, God ensured Joshua had followers.  

 

Not all people are leaders. But all people are followers. Even if you are not the appointed leader, you can always follow well. Like Joshua while Moses still lived: Joshua followed Moses, and Moses followed God.

 

Look about you: Whom are people following? Those are leaders, regardless of whether they have a title or occupy an office. You can use the same simple test to identify the leaders in your life. Whom are you following?

 

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PHOTO: Paducah Tilghman High School Marching Band, circa 1968

 

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I hope you can Join us Friday morning for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. We meet at 8:00 on Zoom** and in person at Our Breakfast Place.  We enjoy food, scripture, and each other.

 

It is an hour like no other.  

 

Blessings,

Steve

 

 **Contact me for the Zoom link

NOTE: Zoom allows you to mute the camera and the microphone if you don’t wish to be seen or heard.

 

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY AND THE COMING WEEK

Find them here:

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=167

 

Print them from here:

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/pdf//Ax_Proper26.pdf

 

Joshua 3:7-17

Psalm 107:1-7, 33-37

Micah 3:5-12

Psalm 43

1 Thessalonians 2:9-13

Matthew 23:1-12

Proper 26 (31) (November 5, 2023)