Civil Discourse

Civil Discourse

I was raised under the watchful ear of my grandmother whose verbal mantra was “if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” My mother didn’t take lip from anyone. My punishment for foul language within hearing range was a bar of Ivory soap inserted in my mouth to cleanse the tongue. Both must have had an intuition that one day I would be a preacher in need of good diction.

Civil discourse is when people engage in conversation to enhance understanding. This happens among people who arrived at some level of maturity and have the skills to communicate personal convictions without demeaning the character or opinions of others. Listening with the goal of learning how others see life is as important as sharing one’s own views.

Is it that there is a famine of mature adults in the land? Are the educational institutions not teaching that free expression of ideas without the recrimination of “correctness” is the lifeblood of our republic? Is the church not teaching how to speak the truth in love? Maybe there is a shortage of sage grandmas and moms with bars of soap to purify tongue and mind. There are no safe zones to protect the weak of heart in a healthy environment of civil discourse.

I keep returning to the Bible to stay on track. Here is some wisdom about civil discourse: “Do not let unwholesome, foul, profane, worthless, vulgar words ever come out of your mouth, but only such speech as is good for building up others, according to the need and the occasion, so that it will be a blessing to those who hear you speak.”

Is there need to say more?

Be Patient

Be Patient

Twice during the month of January, I was admitted to the hospital. The first time was after a visit to the emergency room where I was diagnosed with pneumonia and confined to a hospital ward for three nights. Two weeks later after another visit to the ER, I was admitted for a weekend with rhino influenza. None of this was on my monthly calendar.

Those who know me readily admit that patience is not my strong suit. I have a hard time standing in line at the grocery check out; at traffic lights; check in lines at the airport and any other obstacles that slow me down from my assigned tasks. I confess it is a life long compulsive disorder that I continue to wrestle with but often without success.

Hospital regimen does not cater to impatience. I was not allowed to go to the bathroom without an attendant. If I tried to get out of bed without a nurse, an alarm went off. I was attached to either an IV or oxygen by a short tether; like a yard dog on a short leash. My only option: did I want coffee or tea with my meals? Why am I so impatient? I am sick. I need care. I am in the right place for all the above. Relax!

As I lay there pondering and dozing, a verse from a children’s song came drifting through my mind. It was one we taught our kids: Patience: Herbert the Snail from the CD Music Machine – The Fruit of the Spirit by Frank Hernandez. The chorus goes like this:

“Have patience, have patience. Don’t be in such a hurry. When you get impatient, you only start to worry. Remember, remember that God is patient, too. And think of all the times when others have to wait for you.”

My convalescence was not only for physical maladies but emotional and spiritual ones as well. Thanks to the doctors, nurses, technicians and attendants who ministered health and modeled patience to me.

On the road again to health and patience.

Roaring Lions

Roaring Lions

Africa is an exotic place; especially for a a guy raised in middle America. I have made five trips to the dark continent. I was invited to teach at a yearly pastors’ conference in Kenya. It was a stretching experience to immersed into a totally different culture, language and climate. Immunized for yellow fever, hepatitis A-B shots and an ample supply of malaria pills I kept healthy each visit.

The best perk was our annual safari to Tsavo National Park north of Nairobi. One of the pastors was our tour guide and we saw it all: elephants, giraffes, rhino, wildebeest, leopards, gazelles and of course lions. We travelled in a VW bus with an open roof, so we could observe wildlife up close. My favorite were the lions as they rested after having feasted on a rather bloody wildebeest corpse. They looked very content until they stood up and roared at us for getting too close!

There is a passage near the end of the Bible that mentions a lion: “Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. But resist him, firm in your faith….” Another name for the devil is The Accuser and The Father of Lies. Not very nice handles for a not very nice guy. I confess I believe that Satan not only exists but roars.

Some years ago, I heard a teaching on this passage. A person walking down a long corridor heard this incessant roaring of a lion. It was both ear splitting and enticing at the same time. Drawing closer, the noise increased until finally coming to a small room at the end of the hallway. Terrified, the person entered the room only to find a tape recorder with an amplifier blasting continual accusations and lies about himself. Taking a deep breathe and praying for courage, he reached out and hit the Stop button. The roaring ceased.

Lots of what the Accuser does is repeat stuff we have said and thought about ourselves and what others may gossip about us. The only power the enemy has is to seduce us into believing that his roaring is the truth. Truth comes to us not through the roaring of a lion but the courageous voice of a lamb. Interestingly Jesus is more often portrayed as a lamb slain than as a lion roaring: “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”

It is the Lamb who speaks the truth to us. Listen to His voice.

Ernie

Ernie

Nope! Not the Ernie from the Sesame Street partnership of Bert and Ernie. This Ernie was a real live person who had a profound effect on my life. He was a congenial man in his mid sixties when I met him. He was a large man with a gentle smile and big hands; a butcher by trade before entering the ministry.

Ernie was the pastor of the Episcopal church Judy and I attended when we moved to Bozeman years ago. I was drawn to the man not only by his countenance but also by the way he preached. He was a down home kind of guy who often took on the personality of a Bible character when preaching. The Bible came alive when Ernie stepped into the pulpit.

When I made an appointment to arrange the baptism of Shaun, our first child, Ernie engaged me in a conversation about my background. He discovered that I had been a Catholic priest who was struggling with his relationship with God. Being a wise man, Ernie began a mentoring relationship that brought me through some dark waters and eventually an invitation to return to ministry in the Episcopal church.

Last Thanksgiving, Judy and I along with our daughter and son in law went to a worship service at St. James, the church we attended years ago. There on the wall that led to the parish hall, was a framed photo of Ernie commemorating his years of service. It was like meeting an old friend, remembering the man who took me under his wing and opened a door to ministry that seemed sealed for life.

Many years have passed. I heard that Ernie retired from public ministry and moved to Oregon. Now he and his wife Edith have now gone home to be with the Lord.  I am thankful that the Lord put Ernie in my life at a strategic moment in time to befriend, encourage and show me the way back to my relationship with God.

I am continually amazed how the Lord puts people in my life to inspire and counsel me along the way. The Bible says: “Iron sharpens iron, so a friend sharpens a friend.”