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SUPPER AT LADIES’ AID

When I was growing up on the farm in Minnesota, there was a regular schedule of activities. Someoccurred daily like farm chores or weekly like church and Sunday School, or even monthly. One of thosemonthly events was the meal served after Ladies’ Aid at church to which the husbands and childrenwould come to enjoy as well. Usually the meal was prepared by one or two of the women and includeda hot dish, sandwiches, salad, relishes and dessert. The men would come from their farms, becausethey knew they wouldn’t get fed at home that night, and the children would come after school to have awonderful meal and time to play together.
When the day for Ladies’ Aid came, many of us would board a different bus that would drop us at ourlittle country church. Sometimes the bus went right by the church, but other years we might have towalk the ½ mile or so from the closest corner. As soon as we opened the door to the church basement,the aromas of good food would come wafting up the stairs. We each had our favorites, like scallopedpotatoes and ham, or chicken and noodle hot dish with crumbled potato chips sprinkled on top. Wewere always hungry after school, so as soon as the women said it was ready, and we sang the tableprayer, we would crowd in line to pile our plates with food. It didn’t take long to finish the 1st plateful,and if we were allowed , we were back looking for more, and then finishing the meal with homemadepie or cake. My Mom’s cake was always my favorite, chocolate with chocolate frosting. Years later,when I would remember the taste, I asked, “Mom, what was in it?” “It’s simple,” she said, “It’s justflour, sugar, cocoa, eggs and lard, plus the usual additions. Today a lot of people would shudder, whenyou mention lard as an ingredient, but to this day many of the old-timers will Insist that nothing else isas good as those pies and cakes were.
After supper, the children would go outside to play games like hide and seek, tag, or even a gameof work-up. The time passed quickly, and soon we were on our way home to do chores, and thenhomework. The day of Ladies’ Aid had come and gone, and we enjoyed all that it brought to our lives.
Sometimes I wonder if the heavenly banquet to come will be like the meal at Ladies’ Aid? Will thefood delight the eye and taste so amazing that you will be thrilled to eat for all of eternal life? Willthe chocolate cake melt in your mouth, moist and luxurious, so you gasp in delight? Will the laughterand the tinkle of glasses mix with the sound of the men come in from the fields, women enjoying thetogetherness, and children filled with anticipation of the joy of play? As much as I would like to thinkthat the “feast to come” will be like a meal after Ladies’ Aid in a small country church in southernMinnesota, I also realize that this is only a tiny slice of what is yet to be, for as much as I can see thewonder of a gathering of a few, the feast of the Lamb will include a much broader spectrum of thenations and races of the world. Not only will there be people from the East Delavan Lutheran Churchbasement of the 1950’s but those who gather will speak Swahili, or Japanese, or Italian, or Hindi, orInuit, or Farsi, or a host of other tongues. People from every place the gospel has touched will beincluded in the grand gathering, where no matter the language, all will be understood. The chaoticvoices are blended into a wonderful chorus of praise and celebration of the Lord who makes all thingsnew.

The food will likewise be drawn from all cultures, not just hot dish, but noodles and curry, lobsterand walrus, red beans and rice, roast pig and poi, and a host of other foods, a grand buffet of the meal
for those who have been washed clean in the blood of the Lamb.
So even now, as my mind is drawn back to that church basement in a little country church in ruralFaribault County, Minnesota, I am also stirred to anticipate the Feast of Victory of the Lord. I knowwhat has been, but I cannot fully know what is yet to be. But this I do know, it will be so wondrous thateven the kings of this earth will be astonished at what is revealed. It is a day whose anticipation setsmy senses on full alert, as I wait for God what surprises are in store for the children of God. Hold on toyour hats! A new day is coming, and from what scripture says, it will be glorious! With God’s grace, I look forward to the wonder of that day. Look to the coming day in amazement. See the Lord’s Feast to come.
Pastor Dale

guest blogger

What Is the Gospel?

by R.C. Sproul

There is no greater message to be heard than that which we call the Gospel. But as important as that is, it is often given to massive distortions or over simplifications. People think they’re preaching the Gospel to you when they tell you, ‘you can have a purpose to your life’, or that ‘you can have meaning to your life’, or that ‘you can have a personal relationship with Jesus.’ All of those things are true, and they’re all important, but they don’t get to the heart of the Gospel.

The Gospel is called the ‘good news’ because it addresses the most serious problem that you and I have as human beings, and that problem is simply this: God is holy and He is just, and I’m not. And at the end of my life, I’m going to stand before a just and holy God, and I’ll be judged. And I’ll be judged either on the basis of my own righteousness – or lack of it – or the righteousness of another. The good news of the Gospel is that Jesus lived a life of perfect righteousness, of perfect obedience to God, not for His own well being but for His people. He has done for me what I couldn’t possibly do for myself. But not only has He lived that life of perfect obedience, He offered Himself as a perfect sacrifice to satisfy the justice and the righteousness of God.

The great misconception in our day is this: that God isn’t concerned to protect His own integrity. He’s a kind of wishy-washy deity, who just waves a wand of forgiveness over everybody.

No.

For God to forgive you is a very costly matter. It cost the sacrifice of His own Son. So valuable was that sacrifice that God pronounced it valuable by raising Him from the dead – so that Christ died for us, He was raised for our justification.

So the Gospel is something objective. It is the message of who Jesus is and what He did. And it also has a subjective dimension. How are the benefits of Jesus subjectively appropriated to us? How do I get it? The Bible makes it clear that we are justified not by our works, not by our efforts, not by our deeds, but by faith – and by faith alone. The only way you can receive the benefit of Christ’s life and death is by putting your trust in Him – and in Him alone. You do that, you’re declared just by God, you’re adopted into His family, you’re forgiven of all of your sins, and you have begun your pilgrimage for eternity.

Compassion Out of Pain

 

A few years ago, Doc Sloan related to me a story about former Minnesota Twins shortstop, Zoilo Versalles.  Zoilo was an outstanding player for the Twins during the 1960’s.  He even was selected as the league’s most valuable player in 1965.  This event took place a year or two later in Independence, Iowa, when the winter caravan for the Twins came through the area.  A banquet was held, several players were introduced, and it was a good-will gesture by the teams of that era to encourage fan support for the year ahead.

During the banquet, Doc recounted how one of the front office personnel was called out of the room to take a phone call.  When he came back, he took Zoilo Versalles out of the room and talked to him.  When he re-entered the room Doc could see that Zoilo was troubled and downcast.  Later in the program they found out the reason that Zoilo was so disappointed.  It was announced that very night, Versalles had been traded to the Los Angeles Dodgers.  He would no longer be a member of the Minnesota Twins.

After the banquet was over, Doc Sloan and another friend approached some of the players.  They told him of another friend of theirs who couldn’t get out of bed, but who was a big Twins fan.  He listened to all of the broadcasts, he had memorabilia all over his bedroom, he loved the Twins.  Even though Zoilo had been traded, he agreed to go with Doc Sloan to visit the man who was unable to leave his bed.  When they got there, Doc recounted, “Versalles became a new person.  He joked with the man.  He even picked up one of the souvenir bats and talked about hitting.  He helped a man that night to feel as if he had been Zoilo’s friend all his life.”  Doc Sloan never forgot the kindness of that ball player that night.  In the midst of one of the worst moments in his life, he took the time to give a lonely man a memory he would cherish forever.  What a gift he gave.  From a compassonate heart in pain came a moment to be remembered for a man he met for the first time.

One of the worst days in Jesus’ life had to be the day he heard of the death of his cousin, John the Baptist who was beheaded by Herold.  Jesus revered John highly, in fact it was to John that Jesus went to be baptized in the Jordan River.   Jesus also said about John, “Truly, I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist.”  So when Jesus heard the news of his death, it came as a blow, a disappointment of great magnitude.  No wonder that it says in Matthew that, “When Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself.”  Jesus wanted to be alone because he needed to morn, and to contemplate what it meant for his life. 

But the crowds did not leave Jesus alone.  They quickly found him, and it says “He made compassion for them and cured their sick.”  Later a crowd gathered, and Jesus fed them, 5,000 or more, with just 5 loaves and 2 fish.  In the midst of the hurt, caused by the loss of his cousin and prophet of God, Jesus still had compassion, and the memory of what he did that day could not be forgotten by the church.  It lives on as a wonderful gift that Jesus gave to a hurting people.  From a compassionate heart in pain came a moment to be treasured by the church wherever the name of Christ is honored as Lord.

So thank you Doc Sloan for the wonderful story of a man who gave of himself to another, even though hurt tore at his heart.  Thank you, Zoilo Valsalles, for the gift you gave to a bedridden individual, a gift of joy he would never forget, though you were reeling from a hard blow.  Most of all, thank you, Jesus, for offering yourself to those who were so filled with need, even though your own life had been turned upside down by the disturbing news of the death of John.  Thank you, Jesus, that out of the pain of the cross, your compassionate heart reaches out to enfold all of us in your never failing arms of love.

We see today a window open on the wonder of those who can still bring joy, even though their own hearts are breaking.  We see the wonder of the strong heart of Christ our Lord pouring out his life-blood on the cross to bring us healing, life, and salvation.  What a compassionate Lord we have!  What a wondrous gift of love he brings!

                                                                                    Pastor Dale Halverson

Unable to Move

Last winter was a difficult time here in Iowa.  December brought snow and blowing cancelled church services and times when people were unable to reach their destinations.  Schools were closed and most districts had to make up time before the end of the school year.  The winter started with snow, but January brought even more trouble including an arctic blast that set records for low temperatures for the day in Waterloo as a -34 degree day occurred.  It was a nasty disagreeable winter.

One weather event stands out particularly in my memory.  It was a whole weekend of freezing rain which cancelled almost all the activities for several days.  At least it did not cause power outages for our area but it did bring about a lot of trouble including the icy streets of January, 2009.  We didn’t leave the house until Sunday afternoon when I thought that maybe I could make it to the Bait Shop (local convenience store) where they might have a copy of the Waterloo Sunday paper.  I didn’t think it would be safe to walk, but confidently I thought that perhaps I could drive the four blocks to my destination.  I then proceeded to back the car very carefully out of the garage onto the street, turned to attempt to start up the road, and quickly realized that I couldn’t get any traction at all.  I tried some very limited maneuvering, but I couldn’t get any momentum in any meaningful direction, so I gave up on my little trip.  However, a big hurdle still remained.  Could I get the car back up the little rise and into the garage?  It turned out that I wasn’t able to make that happen, either.  Was I doomed to sit on the street until the spring thaw came?  I finally was able to get a little momentum, gunned the engine, and just crawled into the driveway, but that was it.  Becky came out of the house, and had a suggestion.  “Maybe you could throw something under the tires for traction.”  We tried salt, which worked a little, but the best idea came when Becky said that maybe some blankets would work.  We threw them under the front tires, which slipped a bit, but then caught enough to get the car over the ridge and into the garage again.  I had left the house, spent an hour trying first to leave, and then to return, and was glad simply to have the car safely inside the garage again.  The streets of Frederika were so slippery that on Monday a school bus got stuck on the corner by the church; it took a wrecker, a tractor, and a load of lime spread on the street to get the bus moving again.  The ice was unrelenting and fully capable of making vehicles absolutely helpless.

The ice of 2009 reminds us that there are times in life that we are unable to get traction.  It may be that we are brought low by events around us.  Our health may falter and we may feel as if we are unable to find our way out of the difficulties we face as we navigate from day to day.  It may also be that age is a great hindrance.  We may feel too young.  “Mom and Dad won’t let me do anything I want to do,” may be our complaint.  We want to be on our way to race through life to grow up and embark on great adventures, but yet we realize that our footing is still tentative and uncertain.  Or we may feel that we are too old, that life has passed us by.  We feel that every time we try to take a step forward our footing slips out from under us and we are right back where we started.

But perhaps the biggest hindrance we face is fear, such as fear that we won’t be successful or have others admire and respect us, or even find love.  We may discover that fear leads us to fall into the sins of price, envy, lust or other sins that take hold.  We may not find out that we are not able to find our way again.  For we have fallen under the temptations to lead our life apart from God.

We need someone to help us.  We need the Lord and Savior to be with us to pick us up and lead us “in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.”  We turn to God for good footing in our travels through life, for God will guide us today and beyond to the wonderful new world to come.

So I will remember for a long time the ice that came our way in 2009, and my laughable efforts to drive on the streets covered with glare ice.  But I will also remember the God who picks me up when the road grows slick and dangerous; the God who brings me new life in Jesus Christ.  He is the one who will be my guide until that day comes when ice and snow are no more, for the Lord will be all in all and death will be swallowed up in victory.  There we will see the wonder of God and will worship Him day and night.  What a day that will be!  What wonders will we see!

Farm Kitchen Story

 

          Back on the farm I grew up on in Minnesota, the room that was most important to our house was the kitchen.  It was the room we spent a lot of time in.  Of course, it was where the wonderful meats were prepared, beef and pork roasts with mashed potatoes and gravy, fried chicken and baked potatoes with home grown sweet corn.  And also with every meal there were platefuls of cookies, fresh baked rolls with homemade raspberry or strawberry jam, carrots, radishes, and maybe even green onions from the garden.

Not only was the kitchen the place where food was prepared and eaten, it was much more than that.  It was the nerve center of an active farming operation.  Chilled labs and new born little pigs were brought in to be wrapped in a blanket, then placed in boxes and set on the lid of the oven to warm them to life.  The distributor cap from a balky Farmall “H” tractor was brought also to dry the moisture over a top burner on the stove, so that it would conduct the spark correctly and be able to make the “H” cough to life for the day’s work.  Produce from the garden was brought in to be processed and canned or frozen for future meals.  The farm kitchen was a busy active, alive place each day that the farm’s work was done.

But the farm kitchen was even more.  It was the table where Dad and I would play a game of cribbage.  It was the table we sat at while we listened to “Gunsmoke” on the radio on Saturday night and then continued to tune in to hear the Minnesota Gopher basketball team join in another Big 10 contest.  It was also where our good friends, the Berklands sat when they came to visit and then join in a few games of “500”, followed by one of those lunches that my Mother always seemed to be able to make appear whenever company dropped over.  The kitchen was truly a place you could sit with good friends, because we both were most at home there, most ourselves in this unpretentious, yet hospitable environment.  The farm kitchen was truly a wonderful place.

Sometimes I think that when Jesus spoke about preparing a place for us, a house with many rooms, the room that will be mine will be a farm kitchen.  There once more I will be able to join the wonderful company of those who find great joy in gathering around a table with a meal prepared.  The conversation will be filled with joy and happiness.  The room will hum with life and the spirit of creativity and purpose that oversaw the great productive farm called earth will be everywhere present.  Good friends will still make their way to our table and our talk will be filled with wondrous conversations like, “thank God that he gave me those last 20 years of sobriety.”  Or, “thank God for our Down’s Syndrome son who brought us a taste of love, such as we would have never known without him.”  Conversations like, “Now, God, I understand why you had a different plan for my life than I wanted to live.”  For in this farm kitchen we will be able to put behind us the mirror in which we only saw dimly, for now we will see face to face.  We put behind us only knowing in part, for now we know fully because of the God who has fully known us from the beginning.  We have become whole and complete in this room that has been prepared for us, this farm kitchen in the mansion God is preparing. 

And so today we can take a peek in through this window of wonder at the farm kitchen that will be ours in the age to come.  We can hear the voices of laugher and joy that symbolizes good fellowship, great happiness and fulfillment of purpose.  And we can picture ourselves sitting at that table toasting the life and hope and peace God will bring us safely home to enjoy.  We see the farm kitchen that is yet to be full of the wonder of God’s never failing love.  We await the day with wonder and awe when we join with the others who have gone before us and wait patiently for the day we will take our place at the table in the farm kitchen God is preparing for us.  What a day it will be!  What wonder yet to behold!

Ed Nusselhuf and the Wild Cow Milking Contest

 

Back in the days that I attended Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota, my roommate was Ed Nusselhuf, a Colorado cowboy from the Southeastern part of that state.  He was a great rodeo buff.  I waited for the Sporting News in my mailbox, he couldn’t wait to get Rodeo News.  One weekend he got a hold of some information that there was to be an amateur rodeo near Albert Lea in Southern Minnesota.  That was all it took.  He threw his roping case and bronc-riding saddle in the back of the “Flash”, his car, and we headed out on the road to do a little rodeoing.  Of course, there was no way I was getting any where near the stock, I was just along for the ride and the watching.

We arrived at the grounds, and Ed wandered over to the registration booth where he paid his money for the events he was to enter.  He ran into a friend he had known from college, and they soon were back talking to me with this strange gleam in their eyes.  “Say “Hoov” (my nickname), he said, “I need $10.00 from you.  You got that much on you?”  I pulled out my wallet, handed him the money, and as he was walking away I said, “What’s it for?” (thinking that he was a little short for the entrance fee.)  “It’s for the Wild-Cow Milking Contest” he said.  “We’ll tell you about it later.”  Off he went again.  I could swear I heard a chuckle, but I shrugged it off and waited for the events to take place.

Ed tried his best, but he didn’t ride the required 8 seconds in the saddle bronc, and he got the calf on his second try in calf-roping, but he finished out of the money.  Ed walked over to where I was standing along the fence.  “Are you ready?” he said.  “Sure” I replied, “ready for what?”  “Why” he said, “it’s time for the Wild-Cow Milking Contest.”  “Tom, here, he’ll be the milker, I’m the roper” and you, Hoov, are the mugger.”  “Sure,” I said, “What do I do?”  “After I rope the cow, you run as fast as you can and grab hold of the cow’s neck so it stands still.  Then Tom will take the pail and get some milk to run it to the judge’s stand.  The first one there wins the prize.”  So we gathered at one end of the arena.  There must have been 10-12 teams of 3 men each.  Meanwhile, on the other end of the arena stood these range cows, nervously pawing the ground, looking for a way to escape the mass of men aimed straight at them.  “Bang,” the starting gun fired.  Thirty men began running at the cows with Ed the fastest of all.  Swinging his rope he missed the first time.  Then he connected.  Tom and I are still lumbering down the arena, about two-thirds of the way there, when the cow Ed has roped takes off coming right at us.  Ed is trying to run to keep up.  “Grab him Hoov,” he yells, and then he’s jerked off his feet.  The cow barrels by us, pulling Ed behind, who has now become a dirt surfer while still holding the rope.  Tom and I turn to follow, but we can hardly move, because we’re laughing so hard as Ed continues to sail down the arena, dirt clods flying in all directions.  When we catch up to him the cow’s sides are heaving in and out taking in huge gulps of air.  The cow is so tired that all I have to do is drape my arm over her neck while Tom does the milking.  He runs to the judge’s stand, presents the pail, we finished in second place!  We’re in the money! 

Whenever I think about that rodeo, a picture forms in my mind of the determination of Ed Nesselhuf to hold on to that cow despite the dirt hurtling off his face and body.  He didn’t give up.  He stayed with the contest all the way to the end.  My mind is drawn to another picture, to that of a Father who watches his children wander far from home.  I see that same Father send his Son to earth, the one who stubbornly clings to the will of God to save, even when humankind roars and bucks and would throw the Son off the trail if it could.  The Son clings to the will of the Father even when the dirt clods of death cover his lifeless body after he has been taken down from the cross of shame.  He didn’t give up.  He stayed with the contest with Satan for human beings all the way to the end.  And on the third day he arose and stood triumphantly, smiling in joy that the enemy had been vanquished.  He won the prize and brought life and salvation to all the people of earth.

So whenever I happen to notice news about a rodeo, my mind is drawn back to Ed Nusselhuf and the Wild Cow Milking Contest.  I can still see him being dragged through the dirt, hanging on to the rope.  I can still see the window of wonder it opens up for me on God’s determined love for his children.  I see the Christ giving up his body and even his life, yet triumphing in the end.  I gaze in awe and wonder at this saving event.  Have you ever seen such perseverance?  Have you ever seen such love?

                                                                                    Pastor Dale Halverson

                                                                                    Email:  dale@halversons.org

What an Investment

 

May was an historic month for Becky and me.  Oh, it was not a birthday or an anniversary, although each of those becomes more historic as the years go by.  It was such an important event that I have chosen to share it with you in this installment of “Windows of Wonder.”  Are you ready?  Here it comes!  We sent a check to the US Department of Education.  You aren’t impressed?  Perhaps you will be when I tell you that it was the last payment on the loans we had taken out to pay for our children’s college education.  So, after 19 years, and 3 children, who have graduated from Luther College, we have finally finished paying our part of the costs incurred.  To be sure, the burden of the payment has not been great, and our children have had much bigger loans to repay, but it is still wonderful to be able to celebrate!  We have carried through on our promises, and one day soon, we will set the loan documents on fire over our burning barrel in the backyard.  We have paid our debt in full!

But we were glad to be able to be a part of sending our children to college.  All three of them secured degrees, had excellent records, and ended up with good jobs right out of college.  Our 2 sons even met the women there who would become their wives.  Becky and I have always said that there were lots of places we could have invested our money, but the most important investment we ever made was in the life of our children including their college education.  So, in May 2009, after almost 2 decades of monthly payments to the US Department of Education, and other banks, we celebrate the last payment.  Thanks be to God for the way he has supplied our need!

Our Father in heaven has taken care of each of us as well through the years.  He has sent the rain and the sun; he surrounds us with family, friends, meaningful work, and all we need from day to day.  He offers a world to thrill us with beauty and amaze us with wonder.  God has indeed offered us so much.

But we, as people of this earth have brought upon ourselves a huge debt.  We have rebelled against God, went our own way, and found that the power of sin, the flesh, and the devil has claimed us in such a way that we can never repay the debt that is ours.  No matter how good we are in our daily life, sin continues to swamp us over and over again.  In fact our few good deeds can’t even pay the interest on the mountainous debt that is ours; the debt continues to increase.  Who has the ability to pay this debt of sin and transgression?

It is in the midst of our poverty that we hear a word from our Heavenly Father.  The word of God comes from ancient times, “I will forgive their iniquity and remember their sins no more..  I will put my law within them.  I will write it upon their hearts,” reads the book of Jeremiah.  The book of Hebrews describes how it comes to pass.  “In many times and in various ways, God spoke to our fathers, but in these days, he has spoken to us through his Son.”  God recognized the difficulty his people would have in paying the Everest sized debt, so he provided a solution.  No, it wasn’t a lower interest rate, nor a relaxed  standard, such as you only have to keep 8 of the 10 Commandments, your choice, but it was a pure gift of grace.  It was a gift of such stunning magnitude that the angels, the cherubim and the seraphim must have gasped in astonishment.  Are you ready?  Here it comes!  “God sent his only son, so that whosoever believes in him might not perish, but have eternal life.”  This is a gift so amazing that any who confesses the name of Jesus have their sins taken away.  The huge un-payable debt that burdened all of humanity with its oppressive coercive power is whisked away by the Lamb’s sacrificial death on the cross.  This awesome life giving force removes death’s hold, not only for the near future, but for all time.  The father pays the debt, once and for all!

So, I invite you today to celebrate with Becky and me the good news that we have finally paid the college loans that assisted our children in their educational pursuits!  But we invite you as well to a much grander celebration:  The great good news of the payment of our greatest debt of all.  We invite you to praise this God of grace and mercy who sent his son, Jesus, to remove the debt of sin that led to slavery and eternal death.  We invite you to thank God for the forgiveness of sin through Jesus Christ the Lord! 

                                                                                    Pastor Dale Halverson

The Dancing Tractors

 

The Minnesota State Fair was one of those great adventurous trips that I remember well from my youth.  The time was the 1950’s when farm prices were holding well, and prosperity seemed possible for agriculture.  One of the great sections of the Minnesota State Fair grounds was Machinery Hill, advertised to be a full 80 acres of farm and related equipment.  It was magnificent, row after row of manufacturers including some with names like Cockshutt, David Brown, Minneapolis Moline, Case, Oliver, Ford, Massey-Ferguson, Allis Chalmers, and of course the giants of the field, John Deere and International Harvester; the green and the red.  Other equipment, too, was setup to be viewed–barn cleaners, rock pickers, hay balers, skid loaders, discs, plows, cultivators, combines, elevators, and on and on went the displays as far as the eye could see.

Most everyone who came to Machinery Hill, however, at one time or anther, made their way to the International Harvester tent where stands were set up around a sawdust packed arena for seating.  There you see, was where the International Harvester tractors would perform four times daily at 10:00 a.m. 11:30 a.m., 2:00 p.m., and 4:30 p.m.  As the show times approached farmer-tanned men wearing their town overalls would fill the stands sharing their popcorn with their hard-working wives and children.

As show time approached the stands overflowed.  People stood anywhere they could find a place.  Then the announcer would fairly shout out, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the International Harvester Dancing Tractors.”  Wheeling into the ring would come eight “Series M’ tractors in single file, each driven in by a bright-eyed young man wearing a white shirt and a tie.  They came in and circled the ring and then braked to a stop in perfect order, each tractor facing outward, while the drivers were introduced to the enthusiastic crowd, and the virtues of the “M’ International Harvester tractor were extolled.  Then it was back to the performance, two abreast circling the ring, or weaving in and out of each other in single file, or eight in a line, four facing one way and four the other way, wheeling in a line along a central pivot point in the middle.  My favorite was the two lines of four tractors flying in from the side at a right angle so that each tractor cut through the other line, tires and metal narrowly missing each other as they passed in the center.  One thousand cheering farm folk from all over Minnesota thought so, too, as this maneuver would always bring them out of their seats, laughing, applauding, stomping their feet on the metal bleachers.  To my young mind it was a wondrous sight, performing as if they were circus attractions in the center ring made up of hugh hunks of metal and rubber.

Sometimes I wonder what amazing surprises God has in store for us when he gathers us in the big tent beyond the stars.  Will we laugh and clap with astonishment at wonders that he will reveal before us?  Will the dazzling brilliance of bejeweled walls shine in our eyes like the flash of so many dancing, shiny red tractors?  Will the warmth of the presence of the Lamb infuse us with the joy of gathering with so many others of God’s people, as we thrill to the unfolding spectacle before us?

One thing is for sure.  As much as we pause in wonder and astonishment at the marvels of this world including dancing tractors, they are not worth being compared to what is to come.  God is still creating untold triumphs in the new Jerusalem.  As Max Lucado writes, “Word has it that his timeless hands are preparing a city so glorious that even the angels get goose bumps upon seeing it.  Considering what he has done so far, that is one creation I plan to see.” ⁽¹⁾

So join me in the grandstand as we see the dancing tractors wheel before us.  But join me as well as our eyes are drawn to another tent, the city of the Lamb, where we behold the wonders of the New Jerusalem to come.  What marvels we see there!  What wonders are coming!

⁽¹⁾ Max Lucado, No Wonder They Call Him the Savior, Multnomah Press, USA.  C 1986 P 58.

                                                                                    Pastor Dale Halverson

What a Memory!

 

Golfers have wonderful memories, they can remember in detail a round of golf played a week ago, 10 years ago, or 40 or 50 even 60 years before.  They can see the ball arc perfectly into the sky as they play over in their mind their own hole-in-one.  Or they can see the hole Ron Krueger played, how he drove the green on a par 4 and then made a tricky side-hill down-hill 12 foot putt for an eagle 2.  Two shots that stand out for me are one on a par 3, the other on a par 5.  The 1^st shot was a hole-in-one.  It was exciting to watch the ball soar and then walk up to the cup and pull the ball out for a 1 on the scorecard.  The 2^nd shot was the 2^nd on a par 5, a 2 iron that was struck perfectly, flying on to the green from 220 yards away; then rolling just over the edge of the cup, coming to rest an inch past–only a ball width away from a double eagle!  Both of these shots were 25-30 years ago and I can still see the balls soar toward the green as clearly as the day they were fluidly struck by the iron club heads.

What stands out to the golfer are those times when muscle, brain, and technique worked together in such a way that a nearly flawless event occurred of their own making.  The shots that a golfer recalls so easily are the ones that seemed to be beyond an individual’s capacity to bring about.  It took one to a level of achievement rarely envisioned or dreamed about.  And the true golfer can remember these shots and repeat the stories about them with obvious relish and delight to anyone foolish enough to listen!

Well, God’s church has a great memory as well.  The church holds certain events and words in such wonder and awe that they do not fade or grow old.  The events that describe Jesus’ life and death from 2000 years ago are grasped and held with the fervor of a golfer relieving his or her nearly flawless efforts.  That is why when the pastor takes the bread and wine, the church itself leans forward to be part of the recitation of the familiar words, “On the night in which he was betrayed…”, word by word, step by step, the awesome act of Jesus offering his body and blood is embraced and thrilled to by the gathered congregation.  It is as if this flawless gift of God arcs through the ages to settle once more in the hearts and minds of each believer, bringing forgiveness of sin, life and salvation.  For when the words are said, Jesus Christ himself comes to bring his sacramental presence to the midst of the people of God. 

And furthermore God also has a great memory that he brings to his people.  He remembers how the pain of sin invaded their life.  He remembers the years of exile, the aimless wondering of his lost sheep.  He remembers with flawless precision just how far away his people are from him.  And above all he remembers his covenant promises.  He can’t forget how he pledged himself to be their God, to Abraham and Isaac, to David and Solomon, to exiles in captivity, to the people who sat in darkness.  He remembered his promise, “to bring good news to the poor,” “to proclaim release to the captives,” “to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

God’s memory is above all full of grace and mercy.  Just as a golfer can forget 1,000 bad shots for the sake of one good one, so God’s memory has been graciously selective, remembered for the sake of Jesus Christ the forgiveness of sin.  So thank God today for the window of wonder, the memory of the church as it gathers to celebrate the Lord’s Supper.  So, today, another window is opened to God’s merciful memory that makes all other memories meaningful and significant.

So not only do golfers have great memories, but the church and our God do as well.  I still hold on to the memory of a hole-in-one and a near double eagle, but I will hold most firmly to the great remembrance and presence of the Risen Lord in the center of God’s memories, both now and 2,000 years ago.  It is this wonder to which the people of God turn over and over again.  It is this window of wonder that opens to a vision of God’s enduring faithfulness and love.  It is this wonder that lives with us now and forever.

                                                                                    Pastor Dale Halverson