I Love You, Al!

Yesterday morning, at 9:56 a.m. (CST), I watched my best friend, Al (Pr. Aloysius Majewski - St. Paul Lutheran, Manito, IL), breathe his last.  Words escape me to describe how tough that was.  So many good times; so many laughs; so many theological and philosophical debates; so many hours on the phone.  And now, only tears and an emptiness I feel that simply won't go away.

You don't get many best friends in this life.  Those people the Lord puts in your life who love you unconditionally, who are always there for you, whom you can trust with your very life, and with whom you can share everything, are few and far between.  Al was such a person for me, a blessed and precious gift granted me by our Lord, and I am eternally thankful to have had him in my life.

I am also thankful for the brother pastors who were there to console us the last couple of days, especially Pr. Dan Chambers, who conducted the Commendation of the Dying for Al during his last minutes of life in this vale of tears.  As we stood in that room weeping and physically shaking at the sight of our loved one leaving us, Pr. Chambers' voice was heard above the groans and sighs and we added our tearful "amens" and joined in confessing the Creed and praying the Lord's Prayer amidst our sorrow.  I'm so glad he was there.  I had brought my Pastoral Care Companion with me and, knowing how close Al and I were, Pr. Chambers and the other brothers asked me if I would conduct the Rite.  I knew there was no way I could have done it, and so I handed my Companion to Pr. Chambers and asked him to do it.  That was definitely the right move.

I have been blessed to provide pastoral care for grieving families on numerous occasions, but it is at times like this, when I need pastoral care myself, that the importance of what we pastors are called to do in the stead and by the command of our Lord Jesus Christ is realized.  I hope I am as much of a blessing to those who need me as the several brother pastors were to me and to Al's family these last couple of days.  Thank you Pastors Peters, Chambers, Riddle, Wenndt, and Dufon for bringing the compassion, mercy, and glorious Good News of our Lord to us!

When I walked in the room to see Al Thursday afternoon, I could tell right away that his time was short.  I grabbed his hand and told him that I loved him, prayed for him, and reminded him of the Gospel he knew and preached so well.  He looked up at me.  I'd like to believe that he knew it was me there with him, but who can say?  It was so hard to see him in the state he was in, but I'm thankful to have had some time with him before he went home.  I couldn't sleep at all that night.  I kept waking up every half hour or so.  I knew what was coming the next day.  Per the advice of the doctors, the family had decided to pull the ventilator out the next morning.  Al had taken a big turn for the worse the day before - on top of everything else, his kidneys had started to fail him.  It was time, no two ways about it.  We hoped that Al might come around for a bit after the ventilator was pulled, but I knew it was doubtful.  And so I prayed that night for the Lord to make it quick the next morning; to take my brother home as quickly and peacefully as possible.  And He answered that prayer.  In less than ten minutes after they pulled the ventilator, Al departed.  It was just enough time for Pr. Chambers to conduct the Commendation and for all of us to say our goodbyes.  I grabbed my friend's hand for the last time and said, "I love you, Al.  Go in peace, dear brother.  I'll see you again soon."

And I know that I will see my brother again.  That's the Good News in this.  But, it's the time between now and then that is going to be difficult.  Lord, give me strength!

I spent today putting together the bulletin for Al's Funeral Service.  Pr. Chambers asked me if I would like to do the Service.  He has gotten to know Al very well these last few years, since he serves a parish that is only five miles away from the parish Al served.  He told me that he thought my first name was "My best friend," since Al always said, "My best friend Tom Messer."  I told him that I didn't think it would be a good idea for me to preach, but that I thought I could get through serving as Liturgist.  He agreed to preach, and I volunteered to put the Service together, make, and print the bulletins, and to return for the visitation Monday evening and to serve as Liturgist for the Service Tuesday morning.  I will also preside over the Committal, which will take place in Milford, Michigan on Thursday morning at 10:30 a.m.  Al is going to be laid to rest in close proximity to his son, Zachary, who was called home by our Lord at six months old back in 1989.  What joy my brother must be experiencing right now, having been reunited to his son, whom he loved and missed dearly!

I googled "Rev. Aloysius Majewski" earlier today to search for his obit and the second entry read:  "Rev. Thomas C. Messer's Friends - The Wittenberg Trail."  Tears.  Man, I'm gonna miss him something fierce!

I desperately covet your prayers for the coming week, not only for myself, but for Al's family, especially his wife, Marjorie, and his children, Dustin, Chris, Brittany, and Jacob.  We all know where Al is.  We're so thankful to have that comfort and peace.  But, the void left in our hearts by his departure is unmistakable and painful.

I love you, Al.  Rest in peace, brother!  

Speaking of Pres. Harrison . . .

have you seen the new blog he and his team have developed?  Looks very, very promising!  How cool is it that our synodical leaders are so at ease with social networking?  They have blogs, Facebook accounts, and even take the time to comment and interact with people.  Gotta love it! 

Here's an excerpt from the inaugural post of the new blog, written by Pres. Harrison:

Lutheran preaching does not merely talk about the Law and the Gospel or this or that teaching. Lutheran preaching delivers the goods. It actually speaks the very word of God which kills and makes alive. Lutheran preaching dares to say “you are the man” to sinners, and “Christ came for you” to penitent sinners!

"Love Your Pastor"

In this "Advent Blessing from President Harrison," he lovingly exhorts us to love our pastors, especially at this time of the year when they are so busy.  Can't argue with that! ;)  Seriously, it's a wonderful message from a man who always exhibits a pastoral heart.  We are so blessed to have him serving as our Synodical President.  Enjoy!

Advent Blessing from President Harrison from VimeoLCMS on Vimeo.

The First Divine Service

Midnight Mass?  What's that all about?  Pr. Weedon answers that question in this beautiful article in The Lutheran Witness. 

And, in the same Witness, LCMS President Harrison writes an important article on keeping witness and confession together in the Life of the Church, rather than pitting one against the other. 

The Reigndom of Repentance

Issues, Etc. Interview

I had the privilege of being interviewed again yesterday on Issues, Etc. regarding the third in a series of four articles I wrote for Higher Things Magazine, this one being on The Day of Atonement.  You can listen to the segment below, if you wish:

What Is Christmas?

For a most excellent answer to that question, check out this wonderful article written by Pr. Thomas Chryst in The Lutheran Witness.  Simply fabulous!

Ad Te Levavi - Advent 1

As difficult as it is to believe, Advent is here and, with it, a new Church Year begins.  Blessings to all during this holy, penitential, and preparatory season!  From the liturgy for this First Sunday in Advent:

The Antiphon:

To You, O LORD, I lift up my soul.

O my God, in You I trust; let me not be put to shame.

Let not my enemies exult over me.

Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame.

The Collect of the Day:

Stir up Your power, O Lord, and come, that by Your protection we may be rescued from the threatening perils of our sins and saved by Your mighty deliverance; for You live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.  Amen.

From the Old Testament Reading (Jeremiah 23:5-8):

"Behold, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.  In his days Judah will be saved, and Israel will dwell securely.  And this is the name by which he will be called:  'The LORD is our righteousness.'"

The Gradual:

None who wait for you shall be put to shame;

they shall be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous.

Make me to know your ways, O LORD;

teach me your paths.

From the Epistle (Romans 13:8-14):

"Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep.  For salvation is nearer to us now that when we first believed." 

The Verse:

Show us your steadfast love, O Lord, and grant us your salvation.

From the Holy Gospel (Matthew 21:1-9):

"Say to the daughter of Zion, 'Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden' . . . Hosanna to the Son of David!  Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!  Hosanna in the highest!"

The Processional Hymn:  "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel"(LSB 357):

The Hymn of the Day:  "Savior of the Nations, Come" (LSB 332):

Praying For Al

One of my best friends - or, as he always puts it, "my brother from another mother" - Pastor Al Majewski (Saint Paul Lutheran, Manito, IL) is in very critical condition at this hour.  He is bleeding from ulcers in his esophagus and has a liver that is barely functioning.  His dad called me about an hour ago and told me that the doctor informed him that Al has a 40% chance of surviving the procedure they need to do on him to stop the bleeding.  I'm in shock and don't even know what to say.  I'm tired, but there's no way I can sleep right now.  They're doing the procedure as I type this and I'm waiting to hear news from his dad.  Nothing to do now but pray . . . and wait . . . my brother is in our Lord's hands.  Al is four days shy of his 50th birthday.  He is husband to Marge, father to Dustin, Chris, Brittany, and Jake, and sole pastor to a couple hundred souls in Manito.  Lots to pray about . . .     

Earl Netzley Has Been Called Home

Our dear brother in Christ, Earl Netzley (father of Tanarae Lemmermann), was called home by our Lord early this morning.  Earl was a member of our mother congregation, Immanuel, Wheeler.  He and his wife, Nilah, have been living at Arbor Grove here in Alma for some time, and I was asked to provide pastoral care to them these last few weeks.  It has been a pure pleasure getting to know Earl and his family.  Earl has had quite the battle health-wise - a battle that began many years ago, but was graciously brought to a peaceful end this morning.  He had been on dialysis three times a week since February and, after suffering another heart attack a few weeks back, he had simply had enough.  He decided to discontinue dialysis last Monday and allow the Lord to take him home when He was ready.  His hope and prayer was that the Lord would grant him to see his 83rd birthday and spend it with his beloved family, and the Lord was gracious to grant that request this past Saturday, as Earl was blessed to celebrate that birthday surrounded by those he loved.  He also desired to receive Holy Communion one last time together with his family that day, and the Lord graciously answered this prayer as well, as I was privileged to distribute the Blessed Sacrament of our Lord's very Body and Blood to Earl and family on Saturday afternoon.  Yeah, our Lord is good!  I stopped by to see Earl and pray with him yesterday after Bible Study.  He had grown much weaker than he was the previous day and was lying in his bed.  We had a good chat and shared a couple of laughs together.  Earl was in good spirits.  He knew his time was short, but he was ready to go.  His desire, shared by his family, was that the Lord would take him home quickly and peacefully, and so we prayed thusly yesterday.  And, again, our Lord was gracious to hear and answer us, for Earl was blessed to transition from this vale of tears and into the bliss of heaven peacefully and quietly in his sleep sometime after 3:00 a.m. this morning.  Did I mention that our Lord is good?! 

Earl remained in the one, true, faith right up to the very end.  He has now received the crown of life and has been reunited with those faithful loved ones who preceded him in passing through death and into life.  Please keep his family in your prayers, that they may be comforted by the Gospel which assures them that Earl is with our Lord and all His saints and angels, and that they will see him again when the Lord calls them home. 

Visitation will be at Smith Family Funeral Home in Ithaca (1333 East Center St.) tomorrow (Tuesday) from 2:00 - 4:00 p.m. and 6:00 - 8:00 p.m.
The Funeral Service will be held at Immanuel, Wheeler, and conducted by me, on Wednesday at 11:00 a.m.

Earl knew that his Redeemer lives.  So do I.  So do you.  So does his family.  What an absolute blessing it is to be filled with that knowledge and gifted with that faith.  We do not mourn like those who have no hope.  Thanks be to God for that!  He IS our Shepherd and we shall not want!  We shall dwell in His House forever!  

 

Let us pray:  O God of grace and mercy, we give thanks for Your loving-kindness shown to our brother, Earl, and to all Your servants who, having finished their course in faith, now rest from their labors.  Grant that we also may be faithful unto death and receive the crown of eternal life.  Be with Earl's family in their time of sorrow and fill them with the comfort and peace which comes from knowing that a joyful reunion in heaven awaits all who trust in Jesus Christ; through the same Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.  Amen.

You can read Earl's obituary here.

+ Rest eternal grant Earl, O Lord, and let light perpetual shine upon him!  Amen. +

Hunting Report

I spent this past week in the woods.  I didn't open my laptop once (until this morning).  I did check emails once a day via my iphone (when it would allow me to do so - don't get great service where I was), but, beyond that, it was a week spent hunting, which is always one of my favorite weeks of the year.  Not only do I get to spend time with family doing what I love, but it's a nice little break before the busy part of the Church Year kicks in with Advent.  Anyway, here's a report of the week (Warning:  No animals were harmed in the writing of this blog post, but there were animals harmed in the woods this week - so, if you don't want to hear about that, stop reading now :).

My son, Aaron, and I sat in our two-person tree stand on opening morning, but got skunked.  Lots of squirrels frantically carrying on all morning, but no deer.  Aaron went back home before the evening hunt, so my dad and I headed out to the woods.  Sitting in my same tree stand, I had a monster buck come in about 5:10 p.m.  He appeared on the hill in front of me and began following the runway that comes around to my left.  That runway forks into two different runways, one that goes right by my stand, about 40 yards away and another that heads into the valley going away from me.  He took the one going into the valley, but it still gave me a shot to bag him.  So, I waited until I had what I thought was a decent shooting lane.  He was just strutting along very slowly and had no clue I was there, which gave me plenty of time to calm myself down.  When I first saw him, my heart about burst out of my chest and the adrenalin was almost unbearable - yeah, I had a true case of "Buck Fever."  I had never seen a buck this big while hunting.  But, as I said, he gave me plenty of time to get control of myself.  So, I waited, picked a spot, and took aim.  When I had my cross-hairs on his shoulder, I shot.  He acted like he was shot, as he bucked up, turned around, and started running.  I quickly racked another round and fired again, but that second shot was at a moving tail and I'm sure it missed.  But, I was confident that I had hit him good and hard with that first shot, so I waited a bit before climbing down out of my blind to go look for blood and begin tracking him.  But, when I got over to the spot where he was standing when I shot at him, there was no blood.  None.  I could see where the ground was scuffled by him when I shot at him, but no signs that I had hit him.  I looked back up to my blind from that site and noticed that it was a longer shot than it had appeared to be, and that it wasn't nearly as open as I thought - there were definitely some twigs and branches in the way.  Still, I knew I had him in my sights and he acted like he was shot, so I began following the path he took when he ran off after I shot at him.  I was hoping that I'd pick up some evidence along the way and eventually find him lying over yonder.  But, as soon as I started heading along that path, I heard the big guy bolt out of there like nobody's business.  He was probably up on the hill watching me, wondering what in the world had just happened, and when he spotted me heading in his direction, he took off.  I called my dad.  He was already on his way over, since he heard me shoot and thought for sure I had one down.  When he joined me, we looked around for a bit, but never did find any blood, and we decided we'd do another search the next day after the morning hunt, since it was pitch dark in the woods at that point.  But, not seeing any signs, we were pretty sure I had missed.  The bullet probably hit a branch or two on its way and veered off target.  Talk about a major bummer!

The next morning, my dad and I headed out again.  About 8:10 a.m. I had three deer approaching from behind me and to my right - the worst place they could come for me to get a good shot.  I slowly stood up and turned around.  Luckily, the movement didn't scare them off, and the lead deer, a huge doe, kept coming down the runway about 30 yards to the right of my blind.  There are only a couple of openings there for a shot, so I picked the second opening and waited for her to appear in my sights.  When she did, I fired.  I knew I hit her good, as I could see the wound the bullet made as she dashed off toward the swamp.  The other two deer lingered around for about 20 minutes; I couldn't believe they didn't run off.  When they eventually left the area, I waited a bit longer and then climbed down to go find the deer I shot.  Amazingly, when I got to the place where I shot her, there was no blood.  None.  Not one ounce.  I couldn't believe it!  Did I miss?  No way!  I could see the wound when she took off, and I heard her crashing around like a deer does when it has been shot.  I was even sure I heard her fall.  But, still - no blood?  How in the world could that be?  I started second guessing myself.  Maybe my eyes and ears were playing tricks on me.  Maybe I had missed again.  I was standing up when I shot her and had nothing to steady myself, so maybe I just flat out missed.  Then, I started wondering if my scope was off and regretted not sighting it in this year.  I thought about following the path she took after I shot her, but decided that I should wait a bit.  Maybe I hadn't hit her very good and I didn't want to push her away.  So, I climbed back up into my stand, called my dad and let him know what had happened.  We hunted for another hour or so and he came over to help me search.

When I showed him the place where I shot her, he was just as amazed as I was that there was no blood.  But, after telling him about seeing the wound and about hearing her crash and fall, he said, "Blood or no blood, she has to be lying dead over there somewhere."  So, we began heading in the direction she ran off and, less than five minutes later, I found her.  She wasn't more than fifty yards away from where I shot her.  And the wound was very visible - I knew I had seen it!  She was a big girl, the largest doe we had ever seen.  And now, having found her without there being any blood to indicate that she had been shot (the only spots of blood we found were within 10-20 feet of where she fell - I still can't believe that), I thought we might have similar luck finding the big buck I had shot at the evening before, but we didn't.  But, after bagging this big doe and ensuring that we'll be eating some tasty venison again this year, I didn't feel nearly as bad about missing him as I did the evening before.  And, who knows, maybe he'd show up again . . .

A few pics of the big doe I was blessed to bag:

 

I saw one more doe Tuesday morning before my dad came over to help me get the one I shot out of the woods, but nothing on Tuesday evening and all day Wednesday.  My dad's luck was even worse.  He saw not a single deer until this morning (Saturday) - more on that later.  

On Thursday morning, around 8:20 a.m., I noticed some movement way out in the valley to the left of me and, lo and behold, it was the same big buck I had shot at Monday evening.  I couldn't believe I was seeing him again, but I was thrilled that he showed up, since that confirmed for me that I had missed before and he wasn't somewhere out there in the woods lying dead, and it gave me another chance to bag him.  This guy is huge - massive body, large rack with a very wide spread (don't know how many points he has, but I'm guessing 10 or 12).  Unfortunately, the big guy never gave me a shot this time.  He stayed way out there in the valley and there were just too many obstacles between him and me.  I had one slim chance of getting a shot, but I didn't take it, hoping that he would turn and come into my area.  He didn't.  He moseyed through the valley and into the narrow gully through which I walk to get to my blind.  I tried calling and rattling him back in, but he wasn't buying it.  He was too busy doing this:

 

This is one of the hundreds of rubs in our hunting area this year - more rubs and scrapes than we have ever seen out there.  You would think we would have bucks all over us all day long!  This particular rub is up that gully this big guy walked through.  I looked at this rub every day on my way in and out.  The morning this guy came through, it was only half as big as pictured here and it didn't have the fresh shavings you see here.  That big buck made his way over to this rub and worked it.  Maybe instead of sitting in my tree stand, I should have climbed down and tried to sneak up on him, huh?  Nah, that stuff only works on the hunting shows you see on TV. :)  Anyway, this big fella eluded me twice.  I guess it just wasn't meant to be.

My uncle, Art, made it to camp late Wednesday night and was on the hunt with us Thursday morning.  I heard him shoot just before 8:00 a.m., just before Big Daddy came walking through my area, and he was successful in bagging a smaller doe with that shot.  So, we had two deer hanging in camp by lunch on Thursday:

None of us saw anything Thursday night or all day Friday.  I heard a bunch of deer to the south of me in the swamp late Friday evening, but they never came out.  Lots of sitting in the cold and staring at empty woods this year.  Thank God the squirrels and woodpeckers provided entertainment.  Even when you're not seeing a lot of deer, there's still nothing like being out in the woods and watching God's creatures at work and play.

This morning (Saturday), I stayed in to write my sermon for this Sunday and my dad went out to sit in my blind.  He had gone a long time without seeing a deer in the woods - 14 days (9 last year, 5 this year).  But, don't feel too bad for him.  When he does see a deer, it's usually a big 8-pointer and he successfully bags it - he's taken two beauties in the last four years, the first of which was simply a monster that we named, quite aptly, "Brutus."  Still, 14 days of hard hunting is a long spell to go without seeing anything, so we figured we might change his luck if he sat in my blind.  We were hoping that he would get a shot at the monster I saw twice in the week. 

Well, he didn't see the monster, but around 8:20 a.m., he had a 4-pointer come in that he could have easily taken (he said the buck was so close he could have jumped on him).  But, he let him go, much to the disappointment of my uncle and myself.  Had either of us been sitting there, we would have nailed that buck, but I guess my dad won't shoot anything unless it has 8 or more points (I think he thinks that he's on one of those hunting shows - you know, where they have the privilege of letting buck after buck go by, since they know they'll eventually see the big one - we ain't on one of those hunting shows, dad! :)  Oh well, at least he finally got to see a deer!  And, if that 4-pointer survives the winter and other hunters this year, who knows what he'll be next year. 

I didn't get to go out this afternoon before returning home.  Got a phone call from Tanarae, a dear member whose father, Earl, I've been providing pastoral care for the last few weeks, and returned home to pay him a visit.  Earl made the decision to stop dialysis this week and is getting weaker every day.  Today was his 83rd birthday and he was blessed to be surrounded by family to celebrate the occasion.  It was his hope and prayer that the Lord would grant him to see this last birthday, and so He has.  He also wanted to receive the Holy Sacrament of our Lord's Body and Blood with his family before being called home, and the Lord granted this blessing tonight as well.  What a blessing to bring the Gospel in Word and Meal at times like this!  Earl is surely not long for this world, but he is ready to go home.  And, what an extra joy it is to serve in the midst of a family that speaks the same language of the faith together.  We had Divine Service this evening and everybody there knew the Holy Liturgy by heart.  There will be many tears shed by this family in the days to come, but they will not grieve like those who have no hope.  They know where Earl is going and the Holy Gospel which assures them of that will get them through.

As for the rest of the hunting report, my dad told me that neither he nor Art saw anything this afternoon.  They will go out tomorrow for one last shot before closing up camp for another year and heading home.  If it works out, I may head over there for the evening hunt tomorrow - I'd love to get one last chance at Big Daddy!  Is it possible to see the same big buck three times in a week?  We'll see . . .  

By the way, here's the best part of hunting (besides the time spent with loved ones and memories made, of course):

 Tenderloin dinner for my dad and me Tuesday night - doesn't get much better than this!

  Heart and Liver dinner for the three of us Thursday night - absolutely, out-of-this-world, delicious!

My Favorite Deer Hunting Story

The year was 1999.  On Opening Day (November 15), my dad, my uncle, and I headed for the woods.  It was a glorious morning - a little crisp, but lots of sunshine.  And, it was a very active morning - my dad and I saw many deer passing between us during the first hours of the morning (his blind was only a couple hundred yards to the south of the old tree in which I used to sit), but none of these deer had any antlers attached to their heads, so we had to let them pass us by (no doe permits that year).  Because it was such an active morning, I was in "ready-standby" mode (fellow hunters know what that means), making myself as invisible as I could and especially tuned in to my surroundings.   

Then, things got exciting.  I heard the loud crunching of leaves directly behind me, and the sound was getting louder by the second, until whatever it was making the noise had to be less than twenty feet behind me.  I slowly - very slowly! - turned my head to take a peek, being careful to use the large tree trunk to shield my movement.  I was hoping to see a big buck coming right for me, but instead, it was my uncle!  I couldn't believe my eyes.  I hadn't looked at my watch in a while, but I knew it wasn't anywhere near lunch time yet, and my uncle, dedicated hunter that he is, never leaves his blind before noon on opening day.

"What the heck are you doing, Art?" I asked.  "I've spent the whole damn morning trying to find a place to hunt!  Everywhere I've gone, another hunter was there.  They're everywhere!"  He wasn't having a very good morning, to say the least.  "That's strange," I said, "I haven't seen any other hunters over here, but I have seen a bunch of deer this morning."  He went on to say that he was going to try to find a spot over by the swamp and he figured he'd stop by and see how I was doing.  

I looked at my watch.  It was a little after ten, far too early to be taking a break on Opening Day.  But, given the interruption, I climbed down out of my tree and sat down with my uncle.  We had a cup of hot chocolate together and snacked on some cookies, and were laughing and carrying on, when all of a sudden, we hear this crashing coming right at us from behind the hill where we were sitting.  We both turned and looked, and here came this beautiful 8-point buck right at us.  The rack on this guy was spectacular - huge spread, long tines, and perfectly symmetrical.  When the buck noticed us, he stopped and stared us down.  He was less than twenty feet from us.  The dilemma:  We're both holding cookies and cups of hot chocolate in our hands.  My rifle is laying on the ground behind me; my uncle's is perched against a tree about five feet from where he was sitting.  Simultaneously, we both looked at each other in amazement at what we were witnessing.  The buck just stood there, glaring at us.  Then, he started snorting and stomping his front hooves.  He was one ticked off deer!  We thought he was going to charge us.  In all our years of hunting, neither of us had ever seen anything like this.

But, the buck didn't charge us.  Instead, he snorted one last time and starting stomping down the runway around us, never taking his gaze away from us.  He was moving rather slowly, so I slowly began to put down the cookie and cup I was holding in my hands and reached for my rifle behind me.  After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably less than ten seconds or so, I finally had my rifle in position and was ready to take aim, but as soon as I brought it up to get the shot, the buck sprinted into the swamp.  I took the shot anyway, but missed.  What a bummer!  This was a beautiful buck - a trophy!  To make matters worse, about a minute after the buck disappeared from our sight, we heard a shot.  Less than a minute after that shot, we heard a guy celebrating back in the swamp.  He had obviously taken this beauty down.

My uncle and I sat there on that hill still shocked and amazed at what we had witnessed.  That buck was visibly angry that we were in his way, and he wasn't going to let us prevent him from getting to the swamp.  After the shock and awe began to subside, I turned to my uncle and said, "You idiot!  That buck would have been mine had you not come over here and ruined my hunt!"  His response:  "What do you mean?  I lured that big guy over here for ya!"  As we were discussing this, laughing and carrying on, we heard some movement to the south of us.  This time we were both ready for whatever would appear over the hill.  But, it weren't no deer this time.  It was my dad.

"Did you get him?" he asked, excitedly.  I said, "Nope!"  "Wow," my dad said, "that was one beautiful buck, wasn't it?"  "Why, did you see him?" I asked.  "Yeah, about ten minutes before I heard you shoot, he was standing no less than ten feet from me."  "Well, what happened?  Why didn't you shoot him?" I asked.  "Because I was taking a leak at the time.  I had to pee all morning, but held it as long as I could, especially with all the activity going on.  Did you see all those deer earlier between us?"  "Yeah," I said, "they were putting on quite the show for us this morning."  "Anyway," he continued, "I couldn't hold it anymore, so I finally stood up, headed over to the base of the hill by my blind, and started to pee.  And, as soon as it started flowing, that 8-point beauty came running down the hill right at me.  He literally got to within ten feet of my blind before he noticed me.  But, when he saw me, he stopped, turned around, bolted back up the hill, and started heading your way.  I was hoping that he'd try to head for the swamp over by you, and when I heard you shoot, I was sure you bagged him.  What happened?"

Art and I told him our story, and my dad got a huge kick out of it, although we were all greatly disappointed that this big guy had eluded us.  Later in the day, we met the guy who had bagged this buck, and as he lifted up this big buck's head, the first words out of his mouth were, "I'm having this fella mounted!"  I think we all said in unison, "Whatever, dude!" :)

Greek Tuesday

Yes, It IS About the Music, Too - Part Deux

Okay, so I've received several emails regarding my post last week.  First of all, y'all can respond to the post right here on the blog.  I mean, I know I don't allow anonymous comments, but it's not all that difficult to create a blogger account and post a response.  Takes all of 15 seconds or so.  Just sayin'. :)  That said, I do appreciate those of you who did take the time to contact me with your thoughts.  

Those who emailed me argue that it's not enough to simply talk about music.  Well, yeah, that's kinda my point.  We shouldn't be saying, "It's not about the music," since the inevitable response is, "What do you mean by 'music'"?  Plus, as I noted in my post last week, that vague, little phrase can also give the impression that music is neutral.  It's not.  Music is a powerful medium and it needs to be treated as such.  So, I agree.  It's not enough to simply talk about music.  Much more needs be said.

The other main argument from those who emailed me is that this whole debate revolves around taste.  Some people like organ music and traditional hymns; others like praise bands and popular CCM songs.  And, as one person stated, "As long as Christ is being glorified, the style of music being used shouldn't matter."  But, this begs the question:  Is Christ being glorified, no matter the style of music?

But, wait, before we tackle that question, let's back up for a minute.  Where, oh where, in Holy Scripture is the precedent set for us to employ our likes and tastes in worship?  I've been asking that question of those Lutherans who advocate "contemporary worship" for years, and I have yet to receive an answer.  But, gee whiz, if we're gonna follow the methodology which purports that worship is about satisfying our likes and tastes, we ought to have a little Scripture to back that up, don't ya think?  But, alas, there is no Scripture to back this up.  There's a reason for that:  Worship is NOT about US!  Our likes and tastes are a non-factor in worship.  I know that sounds crazy to postmodern ears, but it's true.

So, back to the question:  Is Christ being glorified, no matter the style of music?  If the style of music being used is to satisfy the likes and tastes of those gathered together, then the answer must be a resounding, "No!"  You can't say that we use a certain style of music because we know people like it and, at the same time, be about the business of glorifying Christ.  That dog just won't hunt.  If you are using a certain style of music precisely because it appeals to the likes and tastes of those gathered, you are glorifying them - and yourself! - not Christ.

But, wait, there's more.  What is the real reason for using praise bands and CCM music?  Is it not to attract the "unchurched" (i.e. unbelievers)?  You know it is.  Admit it.  You want to put on a good show in the hope that those who would otherwise not step foot in a Church will feel right at home in your worship services.  And, thus, the real purpose of the music style you employ is not to glorify Christ, but to attract the lost.  And so, what is really happening is that the music style you employ (along with the whole "worship form" you use) is being determined by what those on the outside of Christ's Church find appealing and attractive.  Another way to say this is that the unbelieving culture is responsible for setting the agenda for your worship.  Good luck finding any Scriptural precedent for that!   

Okay, so what about "my side" of the equation.  Isn't the reason we old, fuddy-duddy Lutherans use the organ and traditional hymnody (and the historic liturgy) because we like it and it satisfies our personal tastes?  Nope!  It's not about what we like; it's about what is appropriate in the Divine Service.  Does the music (and liturgy) employed during the Divine Service point us to, and proclaim, Christ?  Is it a servant to the Gospel, or master over it?  Does it confess the faith or focus on our feelings and emotions?  Does it support our theology of worship and jive with what we believe, teach, and confess, or would it be perfectly at home in the worship services of other Christians, who have a different theology of worship?  These are some of the questions we have in mind when determining what is appropriate in the Divine Service.  Whether we personally like the music - or whether the "unchurched" might like it - is, as I said above, a non-factor. 

So, no, I do not agree that this whole debate revolves around taste.  Taste should have absolutely nothing to do with it.  As soon as we bring taste into the debate, it becomes about us and ceases to be about Christ, His Church, and the Gifts He desires to distribute to us in the Divine Service.  It ain't about US; it's about Him.

I don't love the Holy Liturgy and Hymnody of the Church because it satisfies my personal taste.  I love it because it is Christ-centered, Cross-focused, and delivers Christ and His Gifts.  I love it because it always serves to remind me where I am and what is happening in the Divine Service.  I love it because it is unique and other-worldly.  I love it because it flows from, and adheres to, the theology of worship revealed in Holy Scripture and confessed in our Lutheran Confessions.  I love it because it is the language and sound of the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church, and it teaches me to speak that language and cherish that sound.

We all have different personal tastes when it comes to music, but those personal tastes should be left out of the equation when determining what is appropriate in the Divine Service.  If it's not left out, then it becomes about us and not about Christ.  That's the real issue here, and relegating the debate to competing arguments over personal taste and likes not only evades the real issue, but completely misses the point.   

Relevancy FAIL!

 

HT:  Rev. Paul McCain