The Online Chaplain

A Parent's Voice

A few years ago, one of my good friends from grade school and I started reminiscing about what it was like growing up in Sheyenne, North Dakota.  My friend Owen Swenson lived across the alley and four houses down from me, on the corner.  From the time, I was four or five we played together.  Sandboxes and kites, basketball and baseball, we did it all.  Later we graduated to BB guns fights and roman candle fights.  We got into more trouble and had more fun!

Reminiscing, Owen said, “Remember how at supper time your mom used to stand on the back step and yell for you.  “COREY TIME TO COME HOME.”  Gawd, that used to embarrass me.  You could set your clock by her.  Small towns across the mid-west have their twelve noon and six o’clock whistle.  Sheyenne had my mom.  And the volume was just about the same. Not only would I go home to eat supper, but every kid in a six block radius would hear my mom’s voice and go home for supper. 

Well, hear the good news.  Like my mother, God is standing on the back porch calling out your name.  You can hear his voice on the wind, in the song, or in the still small voice.  The voice of Christ brought each of you to the place you are today, where ever that may be.  Your not reading this by accident or by chance.  You are reading this because God wants you to hear a word.  Here it is.

Good Word #1:  My mother never missed a day.  She was constant in her task of calling me home.  Jesus has never missed a chance to call you home.  “God’s goodness and mercy follow us all the days of our lives.”  Every day, every moment, God is there whispering, speaking, yelling, whatever it takes, in order to keep you in his perfect peace.

Good Word #2:  Everyone in the neighborhood could hear my mother calling.  Everyone in the world can hear the voice of Jesus.  God’s desire is for everyone to hear the Good News and that all would be saved....It says in 2Pet. 3:9  “The Lord is not slow about his promise, as some think of slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance.”

Good Word #3:  When I didn’t come home on time I always knew what was going to happen.  Before long, my mother would be rounding the corner searching for her disobedient son.  It is the same with God.  God searches.  That alone is the most unique and interesting characteristics of the God we call Jesus.  What other God goes to find those who are lost?  No wonder we call him Father (parent).

Is God calling you today?  I bet he is.  He is standing on the back porch of your life calling for you to return home.  Home to the place of peace and security provide in his presence.  Home!  What a beautiful word.

Voices

Late one night, a burglar broke into a house he thought was empty. He tiptoed through the living room but suddenly he froze in his tracks when he heard a loud voice say: "Jesus is watching you!" Silence returned to the house, so the burglar crept forward again.  "Jesus is watching you," the voice boomed again.  The burglar stopped dead again. He was frightened. Frantically, he looked all around. In a dark corner, he spotted a birdcage and in the cage was a parrot.  He asked the parrot: "Was that you who said Jesus is watching me?"  "Yes", said the parrot.

The burglar breathed a sigh of relief, and asked the parrot: "What's your name?"  "Clarence," said the bird.  "That's a dumb name for a parrot," sneered the burglar. "What idiot named you Clarence?"   The parrot said, "The same idiot who named the Rottweiller Jesus."

There are voices all of our lives telling us how to live, what to say, what to wear, who to act like, how to be successful and how to make millions.    Not one of us would doubt for a minute the influence of other voices in our culture.  In the past twenty years, the study of how to compete for our attention created entire industries.  Direct mail has become a billion-dollar industry.  Write a catchy ad for television, and you could be an instant millionaire.  I wish I developed the “Got Milk.” ad.  Two words got the nations attention.  And it is all about making sure a voice was heard. 

Most of the voices competing for our attention want something.  They want your time.  They want your money.  They want your interest.  They want your thoughts.  They want your vote and some want as much as they can get from you.

But there is another voice, constant, strong, and unparalleled in its ability to bring hope.  The voice of Jesus!  In John 10:27 Jesus says, “My sheep know my voice…”  So, here is my gentle, non-finger pointing, reminder.  Listen.  I believe God has something to say to you, today.  Let me know what you heard.

No Souls Lost

This morning I was talking to one of the soldiers from the TOC.  I asked him, "Was it a good night?"  He responded, "What do you mean?"  I quickly added, "Did anyone die in the AO (area of operation)?" 

"Did I have a good day?", used to mean other things:  no conflict with co-workers, no conflict with spouse, and just a general well-being about things.  You know a kind of "Don’t worry, be happy," day.  Nothing stressed you out.  It was calm - a good day.  Not any more the stakes are higher.

Here a good day is when nobody dies or when nobody looses an arm or leg.  That’s a good day.  Everything else is peripheral.  Or in theological terms adiaphra, non-essential.   A year at war changes your standards, I think.  I have wondered if anything will ever seem difficult or if civilian life will now seem somehow petty.  How do you go back to worrying about paint color and matching clothes after all this?  Or should you?

Perhaps, times like this reset what is important in a person’s life and remind you that the standard we ought to pay most attention to is the standard of life or death.  The standard is not happiness, not things, not pleasure, but life or death.  Did the day I just lived serve life?  Did I intercept anyone today who had death close at his/her heals and turn back the enemy?  Did I speak life into anyone in the name of Almighty God?  Did I realize what was at stake?

Our job on this earth is to fight back death.  The spiritual death, the death of happiness for our neighbors, and the un-timely physical death of all people, each are enemies we must face.  This is the standard by which we measure a day at war.  Perhaps, it should be the constant standard.  So, today I say this.  It was a good day.  No souls lost.

God's Message is in the Timing

I just got back from the United States.  I was at a school.  So, for the second year in a row I flew into Iraq on Easter.  Wow.  Now, I learned long ago that God seldom shows up and gives me a spiritual neon news flash.  I don’t often have visions or prophetic words.  Words of knowledge and divine intervention in my life are things I dream about, but rarely encounter.  By in large, the things I have learned about God have come to me by the sweat of my brow.  However, I have noticed….  God is often in the timing of things.  So, flying into Iraq on Easter two years in a row – coincident?  I don’t think so.  Therefore, I propose this hypothesis concerning the timing of my subsequent arrivals to theatre. 

There is a human tendency to evaluate the resurrection of Jesus Christ in economic terms, As in, “What’s the payoff? What’s in it for me?”  We look at the resurrection of Jesus not for the truth in it, but for the cashback bonus attached to it.  This mentality is fundamentally flawed.  Not to say there is not a bonus.  There is!  The resurrection of Jesus Christ is the Mother of all Events.  Easter ushers into our life the divine payoff of eternal life, for those who believe.  But, this is only part of the picture.

Easter puts us on heavenly golden streets when we die, what it does not do is put us on easy street while we are here.  It just doesn’t.  We want Easter to symbolize the delivery of our silver spoon, our BMW, our six figure income and our “don’t worry, be happy” life.  It’s not what God had in mind Christians, get over it.

Easter, these past two years, complete with C-130’s, Humvee’s, RPG’s, Mortars and Blackhawk Helicopters have reminded me of a truth.  Easter comes not to usher us on to easy street, but to put us in harms way.  It comes proclaiming the divine truth, “Christ has risen.  He has risen, Indeed.”  Psssst.  Now get to work.  Easter puts us in harms way.  It is God’s divine and eternal access point to come and mess in our stuff. 

And mess he does.  God shows up and says, “Hey chaplain, see that big ugly soldier with the impossible difficulties.  You know the one who single-handedly will suck up all your energy, strength, and resources.  Go see what you can do for him.”  You gotta be kidding?  Now, for you God may not show up and say, “Join the army.”  But, God shows up for you in other ways and says…

…The rotten boss seemingly living for the joy of making your life miserable.  Love him.
…The spouse who had an affair, who you wonder if you can ever trust again.  Start rebuilding the marriage, put them first, repair the breech.
…The habit that you just can’t seem to beat.  Try again.

The resurrection of Jesus Christ places you right square in the center of “harms way.” It has mission written all over it.  So, who are you helping these days?  How much are you sweating?  Are you walking the walk or are you just talking the talk? 

This is what I learned on Easter, again.  Alright God, I got the message.  Really, I got it.  I DO NOT NEED TO REPEAT THE LESSON.  Harms way, Roger that.  Lord, next Easter lets be carving a ham back in Minnesota.  Pleeeease. 

Good Humor: STUN GUN GUY

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife.  What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety....

WAY TOO COOL!

Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.  I loaded two Triple-a batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button.  Nothing!  I was disappointed.  I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.

AWESOME!!!

Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Toni what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.  Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two AAA Batteries, right?!!

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target.  I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it.  She is such a sweet cat.

But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.  Am I Wrong?  So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading Glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another.

The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water.

Any burst Longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.  All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5"  long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and loaded with two itsy, bitsy AAA batteries thinking to myself, "no possible way!"

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.  I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as if to say, "don't do it master," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad.  I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the heck of it.  I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and…

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION.

I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again.  I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs.

The cat was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, "do it again, do it again!"  If you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a taser, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself.

You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by violent thrashing about on the floor.  A three second burst would be considered conservative.  SON-OF-A-... that hurt!!!

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape.  My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace.  How did they up get there???   My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching.  My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. 

Here's the message.  God loves you even if you are "Stun Gun Guy".  When you have screwed up with dramatic fashion and been an embarrassment to self and God.  God loves you.  When you just want to find a hole and crawl into it.  God loves you.  Whether your stupidity is private or public, God loves you.  Nothing, no matter how bad it hurts or how hard it hits can change that.  Carry on "Stun Gun Guy."  God's got your back.