My Journey with Multiple Myeloma

 Many friends have asked me about both my disease, my prognosis and for updates. I'm taking a cue from a friend and fellow minister, Dr. Guy Sayles, who has been dealing with MM for over 8 years. I will be writing here once a week or so, depending on what's going on with me.  This journal will be a combination of medical updates, personal thoughts and even some realistic spiritual struggles. My hope/intent/prayer is that this journal will help others dealing with medical/personal/spiritual issues to gain some courage to face them as well.

If one "must" have a blood cancer, Multiple Myeloma is one you would pick. Though incurable, MM usually can be put into remission for a significant period of time. From talking with and reading the accounts of others life from this point forward will probably be about remission and relapse. I just hope and pray the former times far exceed the latter. However, there are no guarantees. We do know that the human body eventually wears out and dies. Even in Hunza Land, where people regularly live to 120 or more, they all die. 

To begin with I will share three aspects of my current status: Medical Prognosis; Personal and then Spiritual. These will be placed on my Blog — Dr. Bob’s Blog — where once upon a time I posted sermons. 

Medical Prognosis

For several years I had been 'afflicted" by lower back issues -- not uncommon for golfers as they age. In the spring of 2020 the issues grew more severe. An MRI revealed arthritis in the lower spine. I underwent Physical Therapy (helped some) and bought a back brace to wear during golf. However, my back continued to hurt with pain running down my legs. In December of 2020 I fell while playing kickball with my grandchildren -- trying to score!!! I felt tremendous pain even while wearing the back brace. I went to see my Physical Therapist the next week and she put me into orbit with the slightest touch on my back. My Internist immediately scheduled both an MRI and an appointment with a top spine surgeon at MUSC, Dr. Bruce Frankel. His PA met with me after the MRI, took my history, and said that I had to meet with Dr. Frankel himself as there were some irregularities that they did not like. This happened the next day; Dr. Frankel informed me that I had a compression fracture of the L4 vertebrae. This fracture, plus some slightly elevated proteins noted a couple of months prior by my Internist Dr. John McGough, raised the prospect of a plasmacytoma, or plasma tumor of the L4. Dr. Frankel scheduled surgery in 2 weeks, while also informing me that this tumor is usually a forerunner of Multiple Myeloma and that he would call in the MUSC specialist for this cancer, Dr. Hamza Hashmi. 

Spinal fusion surgery in April of 2021 was successful and the plasmacytoma was confirmed. Dr. Hashmi informed me that I did not have full blown MM, as my plasma cells were below the 10% figure. The “Multiple” term refers to more than  single a source of plasma cells; though there was another spot which glowed in the PT/CAT scan, it was nothing very large. I had 25 sessions of radiation therapy in May-June of 2021 under the guide of Dr. Bradley Cooper, MUSC. After these sessions all seemed good as the blood work was excellent and the cancer markers reduced to normal. I was released to continue PT and having quarterly blood work and scans. We knew MM would come back, but hoped that it would be 5 years or so. My condition rapidly improved and by October, 2021 I was back tormenting my friends on the golf course. In December, 2021 Debby and I went to Paris and took a Viking River Cruise down the Seine to Normandy and back to  celebrate both our 45th wedding anniversary the year before as well as my 70th birthday — both events delayed for 1 year by Covid.

Quarterly scans and blood work all looked good; though a couple of markers were tending up rather than down, they were not that concerning to the doctor. The 1st week of April, 2022 we went on a 15 day Viking Ocean cruise: flying from Atlanta to Madrid, then after a couple of days on to Barcelona via a Bullet Train, boarding our ship there and cruising the western Mediterranean through the Straits of Gibraltar and then on to Portugal, France, England, Belgium, and finally Norway. Despite one day of rough weather in the Atlantic we had a great and memorable time. We came home and continued on with life as usual.

In June and again in September of 2022 I had more blood tests and scans. This last time the results were not as positive, though the markers were not that much higher, save for a kappa/lamda figure and Monoclonal protein spike. Dr. Hashmi told me that I was positive for Multiple Myeloma; he suspected it was hiding in my  bone marrow & bones — that he wanted to attack it before it grew worse. We both agreed and he explained that I would have chemotherapy for about 12 weeks — both daily at home and weekly outpatient at the hospital. At the end of these treatments he would talk to us about an Autologous Stem Cell/Bone Marrow transplant. In a few weeks we began that schedule and are just now completing 9 weeks.  I have 3 more to go and will be finished on February 1st.

Several people have asked why I did not go somewhere for a second opinion. Two basic reasons:

    a. I have a sister who is a retired Hematologist/Oncologist and though she no longer practices she is familiar with Multiple Myeloma and knows the basic protocols. Her statement, "This is not an exotic cancer and a good H/O can handle this." When I told her that Dr. Hashmi specialized in MM and does clinical trials, etc., then she confirmed that I was in the right place. 

    b. Dr. Hashmi's credentials and ability to focus on MM made going elsewhere non-essential. I would not travel elsewhere to be treated when I have a top flight cancer hospital, the Hollings Cancer Center of MUSC, 12 miles downtown — it is ranked in the top 10% of all cancer treatment facilities in the US. Through the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society information is available online as to the latest treatments. What I am receiving is the standard of care for MM in its early stages. I also have a childhood friend, whose wife has been dealing with MM for 2 years. They travel every six months to the University of Arkansas Medical Center in Little Rock which has a noted MM treatment facility. My treatment protocol is the same as hers, which again reinforced our decision.

At this stage chemotherapy consists of 4 main drugs: weekly injections of Velcade & Darzalex Pro, a weekly oral intake of Dexamethasone and a daily regimen of Revlimid — 14 days on and then 7 days off. There are also the usual supportive medications to reduce side effects: Oyster Calcium pills (and a shot of Xgeva monthly;) Acyclovir — to prevent shingles; and various others such as Benadryl, Tylenol, etc. Though this sounds like a lot, it is really mild compared to what other cancers require. Every Wednesday I spend 3-4 hours @ MUSC Hollings Cancer Center having blood drawn and analyzed and getting my shots. BTW, MUSC has the best technicians, nurses and staff that I have ever experienced. All their patients are hurting at one level or another, and they are nothing but kind, calm, caring and informative. 

On January 11th, 2023 I had full blood work and met with Dr. Hashmi and Dr. James Davis, head Pharmacist @ Hollings Cancer Center. After this final round of chemo I will be having an incredible number of tests to ensure my body is up to this. Then in mid-February the doctors will harvest my own stem cells, freeze them, and then reintroduce them in mid-March; this is called an “Autologous Stem Cell/Bone Marrow Transplant.” If all goes well the next year will be spent rebuilding bone marrow and my immune system. I must receive  again all the vaccinations I have ever been given — even measles and mumps!

The greatest danger at this stage with MM is not as much dying from the disease as it is dying from a secondary infection. I wear a KN 95 mask everywhere I go, as does Debby. Dr. Hashmi warned her not to go out and catch something and the infect me! In fact, at this stage the most challenging aspect of treatment is not so much the chemo, though that is no fun, but rather being quarantined from people. (Fatigue is a close second!)  We miss our church and SS Class — the ministers and members at Westminster Presbyterian have been wonderfully supportive — but we are confined at this point to watching worship online every Sunday.  It is not the same, but it is better than nothing. 

Side effects are very mild compared to other cancer treatments: fatigue, neuropathy on the bottom of my feet, occasional stumbling, blotches on my skin from the injections in the abdomen area, and the usual “chemo gut” — I’ll just leave that right there. My body has really tolerated these drugs very well.

So, that's the medical picture, or almost all of it. On November 9th Debby had a total shoulder replacement while I had my second round of chemotherapy. I dropped her off at an adjoining hospital and picked her up 2 days later; due to Covid and/or my being immunocompromised I could not go stay with her.  She has done amazingly well and is almost through with her PT. She is quite the trooper, I must say. 

From what I have gathered my case is fairly normal, especially considering we caught it very early. The moral of this part of the narrative: play kickball with your grandchildren and if you break your back you will be blessed.

The Christmas that Truly Is…

Luke 2: 1-20

One of the great realities of life is that the human memory is incredibly powerful.  We are our memories – compiled not so much out of our experiences as from what we choose to remember and what we choose to forget.  There is so much more that happens to us than any of us can ever recall.  One of the more humorous (and humbling) aspects of Christmas season is to get with family and friends and go back home again, i.e., share those memories of our family of origin or even of our current family.  No one remembers everything – and it is quite illuminating to see who remembers what.  Perspective is everything – even in memory.

All of this is to say that when we read the gospel accounts of the nativity and see Matthew emphasizing one aspect (the coming of the wise men some time later) and Luke emphasizing another – the Bethlehem narrative as probably related to him by Mary when both lived out their later years in Ephesus – we can then say that these are not false or contradictory reports, but honest human endeavors to remember and to share the narrative of the birth of Christ.  The reality is that though Christmas has become for us a major celebration, it was not so in the early church or for hundreds of years.  The birth of Christ was so insignificant to the early church that the earliest letters and gospel say nothing about it.  Mark omits it entirely and it is nothing more than a side note in two of Paul’s letters as he refers to Jesus being the son of Mary.  What we know of the birth of Christ we know through the shared and interpreted memory of a few.

So it is with our remembering and retelling of Christmas past.  If we are what we remember, then what do our memories of Christmas tell us about ourselves?  For some of us our Christmas memories are warm and wonderful, hot chocolate or cider, cold nights, relaxing days, giving and receiving gifts – but mostly taking the time to share with our family and closest friends.  Some are shared with extended family and friends while others, separated by insurmountable miles, build these with our immediate family.  Some of us remember bath-robed pageants with aluminum foil stars, stumbling and bumbling recreations that inspired as much laughter as sentiment.  I’ll never forget when, as a 5 year old boy, my father would not let me walk barefoot into the church so I, out of all the magi, had on my bathrobe and my favorite shoes, which happened to be boy’s work boots!  Or the time the donkey bit the church custodian’s hand and would not let go until the custodian bit the donkey on the nose!  

Garrison Keillor, in one of his reports on life in Lake Wobegon, was describing all the activity that occurs in the mythical Minnesota town about this time of the year. Keillor admits that many of the pageants and special services are a bit silly, some of them ridiculous. Why would these ordinary people, who have no acting training, not much acting or musical ability, join in these Yuletide theatricals?  "Because," says Keillor, "it's a great story and we just want to be part of it."

Yes, it is a great story – it is the seminal story of our culture and faith – and we do wish to be a part of it – and we wish for others to know and feel it as do we.  These powerful images burned into our psyches and souls inspire us to make memories for our children and/or grandchildren.  We long for our family to have the same images of Christmas as do we.

For others of us Christmas is not so memorable, for Christmas is not immune from human tragedy.  When I was a boy there was a family who attended our church whose father was an alcoholic. One year the father came to see my father, the pastor, a couple of weeks before Christmas.  “I have stopped drinking,” he announced.  “I am not going to ruin another Christmas for my children.”  Sure enough, he did not, for on Christmas Eve he dropped dead from a heart attack.  Years later I talked with his sons and heard horror stories of what had transpired in their home before his demise.  I wondered, how do they see Christmas?  How do they look at this season and have anything more than painful memories of childhood?  That they were anywhere close to normal was a testimony to their mother and to a church which helped and nurtured them to adulthood.

If we are those for whom Christmas was more of a crisis than a celebration, it is not only o.k. to admit that, it is necessary for our emotional and spiritual health.  When we say that Christmas is not always “Hallmark card-perfect,” we are touching upon the essence of the gospel. The coming of Jesus is good news to a world where bad news is always just below the surface – and sometimes reigns.  The birth of the Messiah is about the love and grace of God to a world in need of both.  Maybe the gift most needed this Christmas is to be released from images of Christmas that never were so that we can celebrate the Christmas that truly is.  

The “Christmas that truly is” is based not in glitter and lights, but in the wonder of a God who loves us.  Christmas reminds us that, in the words of an ancient church theologian, "the Lord did not come to make a display ... [God came] to put himself at the disposal of those who needed him and to be manifested according as they could bear it." ( Athanasius, On the Incarnation. ) 

Most of the inhabitants of Bethlehem saw neither star, nor angels, nor did they hear any singing.  It was just another night like any other night, with the wonder of God’s incarnational presence lost in the ordinariness of human existence. The Christmas that truly is resounds around a feed trough, a newborn baby, and the wonder of simple folk who witnessed it all.  That they were never quite sure of what they witnessed is beyond debate – as is the truth that in that moment they encountered the fullness of God such as they or the world had never known.  This “fullness of God” is grace beyond grace, forgiveness, love, and compassion such as the world could not and still does not comprehend.

Another has put it well: Because of His visitation, we may no longer desire God as if He were lacking: our redemption is no longer a question of pursuit - but surrender to Him who is always and everywhere present. Therefore at every moment we pray that, following Him we may depart from our anxiety into His peace. ( W. H. Auden, For the Time Being.)

So, join me in celebrating the Christmas that really is.  Gather round the nativity and gaze in wonder and awe before the sacred mystery of life.  Sing carols at the top of your lungs – on key or not – and rejoice that God chose to come among us as one of us.  Rejoice that the last word from God is not judgment but grace, not condemnation but commutation, not death but life – and life eternal.  The “Christmas that really is” ends not in Bethlehem but in Gethsemane where an empty tomb and the promise of angels completes the story.  Nay, the “Christmas that really is” ends not – rather it continues in the hearts and minds of believers, in the multitude of churches with their bath-robed pageants, aluminum foil stars, those stumbling and bumbling recreations of that night when Jesus finally shows up.  The Christmas that really is – no other Christmas can compete!

“To Guide our Feet in the Way of Peace”

Luke 1: 78-79; 3: 1-20

Well – it’s December again and once more we find ourselves wondering what to do with these days from now until Christmas.  Centuries ago the church discovered that these days could best used as a time of preparation for the celebration of the birth of Christ – and so we have the Christian season of Advent.  These Sundays are often used to focus on four themes: peace, joy, hope and love.  So it is that this morning we find ourselves looking at the theme of peace and reflecting upon how we can know the peace that Christ promised.

Most of us come to worship these days with the expectation that the worship service will relate to us and enable us to handle the day-to-day world in which we live.  If a message of peace were ever appropriate, this would seem the time.  Internationally tensions are boiling over, Covid 19 threatens us all, and wars linger around the planet.  Then there is the matter of our own national peace – or lack thereof.  We have greater divisions in our country than many of us can remember, dating back at least to the 1960's.  How can we have peace when we feel so threatened and uneasy?  Many of us come to church hoping and praying to receive a word which will calm our souls, ease our tensions, and allow us to live a somewhat normal and stable life.

The last person we expect to hear from or feel to be relevant to our having peace is John the Baptizer.  Oh, to be sure we know of him.  This kook from the hinterlands shows up preaching repentance and demanding that people give up their soft and comfortable lives in anticipation that the Messiah is coming.  His role is that of the prophet, the one who challenges the status quo – especially us good religious folk.  We've heard those verses where he enumerated what his hearers ought to do: share your coats, share your food, and treat others with justice and equity.  Hmph.  What does John know of peace?

Maybe more than we think.  If we go back to the first chapter of Luke we find the end of his father Zechariah’s song/prophecy which he gave upon hearing that Elizabeth was pregnant with John: “By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”   John’s role, it seems, is to prepare for the coming of Jesus by guiding us into the way of peace.  John the Baptizer is the one who is to know what makes for peace.  In other words, we are told that in listening to John we can know how to achieve peace. 

There’s just one slight glitch:  instead of John being soothing and nice, telling us how much God loves us and how valuable we are to God, John strides forward and preaches sermons that sound more like fire and brimstone than they do love and mercy.   The one who is to come, John says, will baptize with fire and will winnow the chaff from the wheat.  To be sure, Luke does take up for John: “With many other exhortations he proclaimed the good news to the people…”  It’s just that what John seems to be saying doesn’t seem to be good news to us – it really seems to be bad news…news of judgment, of fire and burning...not peace at all.

What exactly do we want out of our faith, anyway?  Do we expect it to make us feel good – or do we expect it to challenge us?  A colleague overheard two students having an animated conversation:  “Well, I’m a Methodist, you’re a Catholic; but the main thing is whatever works for you is right, right?”  The other replied: “You don’t know much about Catholics, do you?  My faith is working on me but not necessarily for me.”   (From William Willmon, God Drawing Near.)

“My faith is working on me…but not necessarily for me.”  Ouch.  We’re not Catholics…we tend to be Baptists around here…but we get this.  Real faith, true faith, is not about making us feel good all the time – chocolate bars or exercise work real well in doing that.  Real faith is about transformation, about changing us from the inside out so that we are ready to live in the world that comes with the Messiah.  Real faith is not about a repentance which is remorseful and backward focused, but about a repentance which is about decision making and future oriented.  Real faith understands that it is through transformation in Christ that I am able to become the person who can have peace of any kind – or who can become a peace maker of any kind as well.  

Interestingly enough, Jesus did not tell those whom society labeled as “sinners” to repent.  Jesus told the “sinners” that they were forgiven.  It was the religious people that Jesus called to repentance.  Why?  Could it be that Jesus knew that the sinners already knew that they were sinful…they were reminded of that fact daily.  What they needed was forgiveness.  However, the religious people were a different matter – they did not see themselves as sinners, but as God’s chosen.  They needed to know that repentance was expected and required if they were to be acceptable to God.

How does all of this relate to peace?  Peace is not the absence of hostility, nor is it living life in an “anesthetized state” where in we are immune to the stresses and pressures of the world.  One philosopher has put it well:  “Peace is not the negative conception of anesthesia.  It is a positive feeling which crowns the ‘life and motion’ of the soul.”  Then he adds, “The experience of peace is largely beyond the control of purposes.  It comes as a gift.”  (Alfred North Whitehead, Adventures of Ideas, pp. 367-8.)

When we aim at peace we rarely if ever hit it.  However, when we try to be the kind of people and have the kind of society which fosters justice and fairness, then we know peace as the gift of God. Thomas Merton put it best: “A man who is not at peace with himself necessarily projects his interior fighting into the society of those he lives with, and spreads a contagion of conflict all around him.”  If we find ourselves living in the midst of continual turmoil and conflict, maybe we are spreading our interior conflict onto others – rather than being the peace-makers Christ has called us to be.

Both Jesus and John the Baptizer took a similar approach in dealing with matters of peace:  they began with the personal rather than the corporate or international.  This is quite surprising given the situation that they were living in a country occupied by a foreign government.  Yet, this is a truth which has been recognized the world over – through out all times and cultures.  600 years before the time of Christ a Chinese philosopher penned these words:

If there is to be peace in the world, there must be peace in the nations.

If there is to be peace in the nations, there must be peace in the cities.

If there is to be peace in the cities, there must be peace between neighbors.

If there is to be peace between neighbors, there must be peace in the home.

If there is to be peace in the home, there must be peace in the heart. ( Lao-tse – 6^th c. BCE.)

 The only way to achieve personal, soul-full peace is to surrender ourselves to Christ and in so doing allow Christ to fill us with his person, his purpose, and his peace.  Only in self-surrender – of our images of our self, of our desires and goals and wishes, of our hopes and dreams, i.e., of all that we want for our selves and those we love – only in surrender of those that we discover the acceptance and the peace for which we seek.  Tension and stress are mere manifestations of our striving, of our controlling, of our desire to have life be “the way we want it to be.”  It is when we loosen our grip and broaden our hearts that we know the peace and love which come through Jesus the Christ.

When we have the peace of Christ we are then able to accept and love others whom we may have once perceived as the “enemy” or at least as in opposition to our views and way of life. Whether the issue be racism, sexuality, economics or social justice, the answer is clear: when we accept others with the love of Christ we open the doors and smooth the paths that lead to peace, both personal and social.

The path of peace reaches beyond my intellectual beliefs to the person, to the soul of the other and says that relationship is to be valued over our individual perceptions of the “truth.”  Ultimately that is the only way of peace – whether it be in the Middle East, in Africa, in the gangs of our cities, or in our own hearts. For only in our acceptance of the other will we find the “peace” for which we yearn.

Amen.

My Friend, Dr. Hal Warlick

There are people who come into your life, stay a few months or even years, and after leaving you rarely think of them again, for the mark they leave is either non-existent or at best, quite small.  Occasionally there are people who come into your life and your life is never, ever the same again.  Such was Hal Warlick to many, many people — and especially to me.  We met in mid 1990 in Seneca, South Carolina when Hal and Diane visited Trinity Baptist Church, where I was then currently and he a former pastor.  Several members of Trinity had said to me in my first few months there, “You need to meet Hal Warlick…you and Hal have a lot in common.”  Were they ever correct!  After a fifteen minute conversation I knew that his journey in life had allowed him to learn and grow in ways that my life in the SBC cocoon had not afforded me.  For the next 31 years we would grow closer, exchanging sermons, ideas, books — and arguing furiously over most of them!!  

Because of Hal my reading took on a much, much broader field than I had ever dreamed.  He would send me books, drop them off, invite me to come up and give them to me, or recommend I buy an occasional one.  I easily read 500 books because of Hal Warlick — and those did not include his!  More than once he said to me what an elderly member of Trinity had said to him, “You go read — and not the stuff we read — and then come back and tell us what you’ve learned.”  He shared that with me as a way to stimulate me to keep reading — and it worked.

Hal was the consummate wordsmith — whether writing a book or a sermon he could communicate incredibly well.  With a Ph.d. in homiletics I have read and heard a few thousand sermons in my life — Hal was at the top of the list.  Week-in and week-out he was as good a preacher as existed.  He had mastered the use of the manuscript — he loved to preach just as he had written — but could preach without seeming to be bound to the copy.  His breadth of memory of events, illustrations and textual interpretations was boundless.  More than once on a Wednesday I would call Hal and say, “I’m reading such and such a text and I’m stuck.  Help.”  Five minutes later he would have opened a new window into the text and I would be off and running.

Hal’s mind was a true wonder to behold; he could go off in so many different directions on issues and all of them were fascinating.  He was, I believe, one of the most complicated persons I have ever known.  No text or subject was simple or easy to Hal.  He also loved to take the opposite side of any issue I might bring up.  Sometimes that was because he saw it differently, but other times it was because he was just pushing me.  Hal taught me that going deep was better than going broad, and if I were to treat a controversial subject from the pulpit then I better do a deep dive.  

After my first year of encounters with Hal I changed my sermon preparation from writing an outline to a full manuscript.  No, I didn’t read it in the pulpit — having a manuscript was much more difficult for me than an outline.  However, the discipline of writing a full manuscript every week sharpened my focus as well as providing a needed discipline for the ever present danger of pulpit wandering.  Thanks to Hal when professors and colleagues called to ask if I had some sermons to share in their books and journals, I could just turn to the files!

Hal was a mentor in helping me make some very important decisions. Twice when much larger churches called and wanted me to talk with them about coming as their pastor, Hal discouraged me.  In some ways he knew me better than I knew myself!  His statement, “There’s only a couple hundred people in any church who will agree  with or even understand what you’re saying…and that will leave a lot of unhappy people in a larger congregation!”  He helped me to see that a church’s value — and consequentially that of the pastor — is not in how many you have in your congregation, but in the power of that congregation to live out the calling of Christ with integrity.  I can honestly say that the two pulpits we shared as pastor, Trinity and Emerywood, were places where we could live out such a calling.  Not only did we shape those congregations during our tenures, they shaped us as well.

Hal and I both shared a passion for sports — especially seeing our sons compete.  I confessed to him one time that I had been ejected from a game where my boys were playing recreational basketball — the referee was killing us, I knew him personally -- and felt he was homing us in favor of his "home" team!!  Anyway, Hal just smiled — then Diane told me about the time he chased after an official at a Furman football game and she had to call after someone to grab him before he got into trouble.  We laughed, conversing about how angry it made us feel when an official was obviously incompetent.  

We never competed against each other in sports other than a few golf fames — we were too old by the time we met to do anything else.  Fortunately Hal’s athletic skill did not extend to golf — foot speed doesn’t help in golf!  I can honestly say that even on my worst day I could handle Hal — but that doesn’t really say much.  On the few occasions we played we did more laughing and arguing than really playing.  

We went through a lot of physical pain together, that’s for sure.  Hal had open heart surgery, carotid artery surgery, knee repair — he could not walk for weeks — and other physical ailments as well.  I’ll never forget after his open heart surgery getting a call from Diane — we were living in Seneca.  “Can you come up here and take him out for a couple of days…if you don’t I think I ‘m going to kill him.”  I assured her it would have been justifiable homicide, but came on up with some other friends we have a great 3 days talking, eating and planning sermons together.

There was only one person who was able to get the best of Hal no matter the situation — and that was Diane.  Hal would walk to the edge of some discussion, etc., and Diane would give him a stare followed by “Fox” — and that’s all it took.  He would just look at me and grin…and I knew we better move on.  They were so good together and so complemented each other in multitudinous and wonderful ways.  

We all change as we move through life — that’s a process we call maturity.  I saw it in Hal and I was able to look back and see it in myself.  The persons we are at 35 and 45 are not the same at 55 and 65.  Having a friend/mentor so close yet 5 years or so ahead of me, enabled me to benefit greatly from his experience and vision.  Hal and I used to talk every so often about the mistakes we made as young ministers and how, no matter how much we wanted to do so, we could not go back and have a “mulligan.”  In life, as in golf, you have to play the ball as it lies, and once you hit it you cannot “undo” a shot.  What we have to do is to learn from every shot, every putt, every round — and keep moving on in the direction of the Kingdom.

Hal, you’ve entered the great mystery and we all will follow. We had a lot of talks about the promised Kingdom of God, eternal life and how the Scriptures portrayed "heaven" in so many, varying and rich ways. At this stage all I can say is that I am sure of God’s love — and that Hal made that love clearer to myself and so many.  I just lean on Paul’s understanding:  “For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”  Romans 8: 38-39.

Thanks be to God for the good news of Jesus Christ…and for God’s servant Harold C. Warlick who incarnated this love in powerful and unique ways.  

Ordinary People

Mark 1: 1-11

Who are the people God chooses to use?  Most of us would answer:  great people; gifted people; talented people; holy people.  We answer this way because the people in the Bible have been held up to us as icons of virtue—and we know that we are anything but that.  Sometimes we even start thinking that our ministers must be “holy people” who can do no wrong.  (However, if you are ever close to ministers you’ll soon lose that perspective.)  The thought remains that if God uses someone then they must be radically different from the normal person; therefore God cannot use me.  Nothing is further from the truth.  God is in the business of using normal, ordinary people doing normal, ordinary things that become extraordinary in their impact through his love and power.

Look at this scene of our gospel text:  two unnamed disciples are sent to get a donkey from an unnamed owner.  The faces in the crowd are nameless, insignificant people just going about whatever it is they are supposed to be doing.  If they are disciples then they are following Jesus, something they have done for up to three years and other than a few miracles nothing earth shattering has occurred.  The crowd—they are those anonymous souls going about their daily work:  buying and selling, doing whatever their livelihood requires, and a parade starts their way so they stop for a few moments to see what the commotion is about.  The people ask who this is and the reply comes: “Jesus of Nazareth.” 

I can hear their thoughts:  “Oh, the prophet from that backwater town.  I wonder what he will say this trip.”  They were somewhat accustomed to kooks showing up every so often and proclaiming themselves the Messiah, so this is nothing new.  They watch the parade pass by and then return to their work, not really knowing the significance of what has transpired.

Though it may bother us to think that our Lord was perceived as insignificant, is not this how God works?  Has not God always worked through insignificant people at insignificant places in insignificant times doing insignificant things to accomplish the significant?  

• Abram is out minding his own business and God comes and gets him to move to a new country, promising to make him the father of a great nation.  Lest we forget, Abram  is 75 and childless.  
• Moses is a Jew raised as an Egyptian in Pharaoh’s court but is in hiding on the back side of the Negev when God finds him—and a people are set free from slavery.  
• David is a small shepherd boy on whom God lays God’s hand on for reasons known only to God—and a kingdom flourishes.  
• Mary is a young teenage girl in Nazareth to whom an angel appears—and her life is never the same.
• Simon Peter, Andrew, James and John are carrying on their fishing business, Jesus walks by, and their lives are irrevocably changed.  
• Paul is being a proper religious rabbi, i.e., defending God, when Jesus shows up on the Damascus Road. Paul’s life is turned 180 degrees around and so are millions of others for the rest of history.  

God always works through the insignificant and unimportant—and does so in ways that are mysterious and wonderful.

Our lives are like that, are they not?  We are neither the famous nor the important—at least as far the world is concerned—and yet Jesus continues to show up in our lives at the oddest moments to work his miracle of grace.  Day by day, week after week, month after month, year after year, we come to this place and worship, pray, and listen to each other and the Spirit.  Day after day, week after week, etc., we go to work, do our jobs, go to our homes, spend time with our families, take our vacations, and literally spend our lives doing the ordinary.  Every once in a while, every so often, something dramatic happens, but most of the time we live in the ordinary.  I believe, as strange as it may sound, that is a message we need to hear amid the pomp and pageantry of Palm Sunday:  Jesus is most often found among the ordinary, among the normal, among the humdrum existence of life.  The presence of the Spirit of Christ does not mean that lights will be flashing and bells going off—rather, the Spirit is found in the day to day workings of human life.

Look where people found Jesus in the New Testament:  by the Sea of Galilee or walking along a dusty road; at a well at noon-time in Samaria or on a hillside teaching.  We find Jesus most when we look for him in the everyday aspects of life.  Someone has said that “the secret to life is doing the ordinary in an extra-ordinary way.”  I believe that to be not only true, but the essence of the gospel.  When we know the love of God, when we have been touched and transformed at the core of our being, then the ordinary becomes extra-ordinary.  

Do you remember the movie Mr. Holland’s Opus?  Mr. Holland is a would-be composer who turns to teaching in his early years in order to pay the bills.  As happens to many, he winds up teaching for most of his adult life until just before retirement his position is eliminated as surplus due to budget cuts in the school district.  On his final day at work he is summoned to the auditorium where, to his amazement, hundreds of his former students are gathered to express his appreciation and to play his opus, his life-long work which had never been performed in public.  Here he was, an ordinary man doing ordinary things and feeling like he was a failure.  However, through those ordinary things something extra-ordinary was happening:  lives were being touched and people changed as he went about his daily life.  The ordinary became extra-ordinary.

In “As You Like It” Shakespeare said that each of us, in our lives, “play many parts.”  True, but those parts are mostly bit parts, small roles.  For instance, of the 12 apostles of Jesus how many could you name?  How many are known apart from the lists in the gospels?  Other than the big three:  James, John, and Simon Peter, we hear virtually nothing of the others.  Even the apostles were ordinary people playing bit parts, but in so doing they were part of a movement of God that became the watershed of human history.

How could Jesus have accepted those accolades that day all the while knowing that by Friday the “Hallelujahs” would turn to “Crucify him?”  Why did Jesus accept these praises and cheers?  He knew that he was coming to Jerusalem to die; he made no secret of that to his disciples.  Further, Jesus was not one to seek public attention or acclaim.  Could it be that Jesus accepted this because he knew of the “ordinariness” of life?  Could it be that Jesus saw that for these this moment would be one that, after the resurrection, they would look back on and know that God had been with them?  Jesus saw that they would remember that day when the Messiah had come by and they had thrown their cloak or waved a palm branch—and the ordinariness of life would be transformed through memory into an extraordinary occasion of the love and grace of God.

God has a way of showing up in the most unexpected of ways and at the most unexpected times—and in so doing he graces our ordinary lives with the extraordinary.  A wedding ceremony—and how many have I done or you attended—not a usually emotional or moving service save for the families involved—and yet there are moments when the Spirit shows up and the service is graced with love beyond belief.  A funeral service—done everyday—and yet there are moments when the Spirit shows up in ways that are unexpected and grace is bestowed.  

A simple meal with family or friends becomes a special moment as we share together the stuff of our lives—and God is present.  A gesture by a neighbor, a visit to a shut-in friend, a helping hand to one who needs it, and before we know it God has been present and our lives are transformed.  How is it that those disciples on that road to Emmaus put it when they realized that they had been walking with the Risen Christ?  “Did not our hearts burn within us?”  Ordinary moments made extraordinary by the presence of Christ.

Some of you are sitting there and saying, “Wait just a minute.  I’ll agree that my life is ordinary, but don’t give me any of that ‘extraordinary’ stuff.  My life is just plain boring, as boring as vanilla ice cream.  I’ve never had anything extraordinary happen to me.”  That is the problem.  Ordinary and boring are not synonyms.  When we speak of ourselves and our lives as ordinary, we mean that we are just normal human people.  We’re not necessarily any smarter, better looking, more talented, or richer than others.  It does not mean that our lives are ignored by God.  The secret to living an extra-ordinary life as an ordinary person is to look at life and moments in extra-ordinary ways.  When we pause and look at our lives we can see moments pregnant with all sorts of possibilities that we overlooked in the time of their occurrence.  It is in the eyes of the seer that the ordinary becomes the extra-ordinary as we perceive the presence of God. 

There are two inherent dangers in being a person who wants to accomplish something:  one is that we will think that the “big event” is what life is about and so we will ignore all else in trying to achieve that moment.  When that moment has passed, then we will realize how shallow is that approach to life.  The other danger is that we will develop “routine” lives which have no hills or valleys—everything is the same:  flat.  When we ignore the presence of God in the ordinary of life then it will become flat, boring, and routine.  These are the persons who die at forty and are not buried until they are seventy-five.

In December or 1944 the German army launched an unexpected attack.  In what was known as the Battle of the Bulge, a deep wedge was driven into the Allied lines.  James Jones, in World War II, says:  

No one of these little road junctions stands could have had a profound effect on the German drive.  But hundreds of them, impromptu little battles at nameless bridges and unknown crossroads, had an effect of slowing enormously the German impetus ... These little die-hard ‘one-man-stands,’ alone in the snow and fog without communications, would prove enormously effective out of all proportion to their size.  James Jones, World War II, p.205

In the little battles of life lies the secret to success—and to seeing God.  Thomas Carlyle wrote:  “The tragedy of life is not so much what people suffer, but rather what they miss.”  When we fail to see the importance of the ordinary and of what God is doing in the ordinary stuff of our lives, then we are missing the presence of the Almighty and the essence of life is gone, vanished like a vapor on the breeze of the moment.  

Ordinary people—that’s who we are, just ordinary people living faithful lives and in the middle of this ordinary existence God shows up—and we are ordinary no more.

Whose Life Is It, Anyway?

The Sea Island Pulpit

Whose Life Is It, Anyway?

Mark 12: 38-44; I Kings 17: 8-16

A theologian once advised: "When you hire a housekeeper, do not ask her how she cleans. Rather, ask her about her philosophy of life. If you understand that, then you will know whether or not she can keep a house clean."

This sounds strange at first, but the more we think about it the more we see how true it rings. We each have a philosophy of life, an underlying set of values and beliefs by which we make decisions, evaluate the actions of both ourselves and others, and by which we generally conduct our lives. Some of these philosophies are rather complex, but others are very simple:

• What goes around comes around.
• The early bird gets the worm.
• "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
• Second place is first loser.
• Work hard, keep your nose clean, mind your own business, and life will turn out alright.
• He who dies with the most toys wins.
• Don’t worry, be happy.
• You meet the same people on the way down that you met on the way up.
• Shop until you drop.

Many persons follow much more formal codes which are the result of intentional work. Businesses, corporations, churches, institutions, and even families adopt mission statements, summaries of the core values and beliefs which they hold and by which they make decisions. Most of us live by unwritten values and beliefs — usually passed along subconsciously by our family and/or cultural tribe.  These comprise our philosophy of life. We rarely pause to examine what we do or why we do it.

What is our underlying philosophy of life? If we were to examine our core values and beliefs – not by what we say but by our actions – what would we see? Do we live by the Golden Rule of Jesus (Do unto others as you would have them do unto you) – or the golden rule of culture? (He who has the gold makes the rules?) I believe here are two foundational approaches/philosophies in life; from these derive all the others.

The first approach is: "This is my life and I can do with it what I want." This understanding envisions one’s life as belonging to oneself and no one else has a right to say or intrude in any way upon one’s life. Subconsciously disregarding any group loyalty this philosophy asserts one’s right to self-determination. When people are  asked whether or not the terminally ill had the right to end their life, overwhelming the answer is: "This is their life and they can do what they want." If the premise is true – its my life – then the conclusion is logical and correct.

We see the results of such a philosophy everyday in our news:

• This is my life – so I’ll use drugs if I desire.
• This is my life – so I’ll be selfish and greedy if I choose.
• This is my life – so I’ll pick the options and make my own decisions without regard for anyone else.
• This is my life – so I’ll do what makes me happy, disregarding all my commitments to family, God, and anything else.
• This is my life – so get out of my way and if anyone gets hurt, then too bad.
• This is my life — I’ll disobey pandemic guidelines or rulings as I please, regardless of the effect upon others.

This philosophy has multitudinous inherent flaws – despite the fact that it is probably the most common of our day — providing the basis for much of the greed and self-centeredness running rampant throughout our world.  If my life is indeed “mine” — then no one can have any manner of say over what I do and where I do it.  

Of course, this belief is nothing new.   When Eve and Adam disobeyed God and ate of the forbidden fruit, they were saying, "This is my life, I’ll do what I want." From that moment until the present humanity has been struggling with the reality born of that approach.

Whose life is it, anyway?

All of this brings us to the second philosophy: “This life is the gift of God; therefore I am responsible to God for what I do with my life." 

• This viewpoint honors God as the Creator, Sustainer, and Redeemer of my life and acknowledges my responsibility to God for what I do with this life I call mine. 
• This perspective acknowledges that I am not born in a vacuum, but to a family in a specific place and time.  In so doing God has purposefully intertwined my life with those of others whom I cannot ignore or write off. 
• Children are God’s gifts to parents to love and nurture to maturity in Christ, but parents are also God’s gift to the child to be loved and respected by the child. 
• We are twice the child of God and therefore must see life as the gift of God to us: once by creation and once by redemption. How does Paul put it: "You are not your own, you are bought with a price."

Seeing life as gift means that I am responsible for all that I am, have, and ever will be to God. Here is a perspective that values the entire stream of life, from young to old, as the gift of God. Seeing life as gift means that whether we are 18 or 80 we are  still called to serve God in all that we do. If life is gift, then my life and life-style are the definitive statement of my gratitude.

Whose life is it, anyway?

In church we see the repercussion “life as gift” as we live in relationship and seek to build community. Christian community (koinonia) is born not out of the cultural commonalities of the world, but out of the sense that all others are the creation of God.  We build community on the foundation of our being inter-related to one another as we share together this journey of life. As an African-American preacher said, "If God is our Father, then we are all brothers and sisters; we’re kin." Life as gift acknowledges our kinship with every person upon the face of this earth.  Every. Last. One.  Even those with whom we have profound religious, ethical and political disagreement are our brothers and sisters. 

How do the two scriptures we have read this morning impact our understanding? Both are stories about women, poor widows, who are struggling with bare existence. They are literally at the bottom of the socio-economic pyramid in their society.  The widow of Zarepheth is faced with a challenge: Does she trust Elijah, the prophet of God, and fix a meal with the last of her flour?  Or does she hold onto what she has for herself and her son?

Whose life is it, anyway?

The widow of Mark 12 arrives at the the temple treasury facing a similar dilemma. Jews were required to make regular offerings at the temple. No exceptions given. Does she give her last few pennies, trusting that somehow God will provide for her needs, or does she hold onto them? Which should she do?  Which is the most responsible decision she could make?

I’ll be honest, I have always had some trouble with this text. Who would provide for her needs? Who will buy her food, clothes, etc? Why praise her? As a pastor I was called upon to help feed and clothe people who had given their last dime to some “ministry” that promised them health and wealth. Why should Jesus praise her?  Shouldn’t she be responsible for herself before she goes giving to God?  Then one day the truth hit me: what Jesus saw was a life that was so committed to God that even her last pennies were gifts to be shared rather than possessions to be hoarded.

Whose life is it, anyway?

There are some other persons present in the story from Mark: the scribes. Scribes were lawyers and they do not come out well in confrontations with Jesus. For the most part they were wealthy; Jesus indicates that they had gained this wealth at the expense of widows and their estates. Central to Jesus’ critique is an economic system that allowed the hierarchy to become wealthy at the expense of those on the bottom rung. Regularly these scribes — persons of privilege and wealth — came and dropped large bags of money into the coffers while the bystanders ooh and ah over their contributions. Their philosophy is simple:  "This is my life and I can do with it what I want." They saw life as personal possession: they worked the angles, managed the system, all with one goal: to increase their possessions. After all, as long as they said their prayers and attended to their religious duties, they were fine, weren’t they?

Whose life is it, anyway?

While the poor may flourish in our Covid 19 world, so do the scribes. Rev. Tom Ehrich, an Episcopal priest in Winston Salem told the story of a homemaker in suburban New Jersey who spent $20,000 on designer clothes for her 2 year old daughter. When asked why she replied, "I can afford it, so why not?" ( Exact source unknown.)

Why not?  Good question, is it not?  If this is my life, then I will grab for all I can and in so doing play king of the mountain with all who get in my way. If this is God’s life which has been given to me, then the answers are vastly different.

Whose life is it, anyway?

The “It's my life" mentality is having tragic consequences for our society and our churches. More and more persons are developing their own sense of right and wrong, ethical and unethical, based upon their own personal desires rather than upon the principles of our religious heritage. In conversing with psychologists, counselors, and pastors we see more and more dysfunction and emotional disorders in families and individuals, much of which is traceable back to their fundamental approach to life.

When the “my life" approach dominates, politically we divide into competing camps and conduct battle with one another. So in our society we have the wealthy versus the poor, the Republicans versus the Democrats, the Religious Right versus the Religious Left, the haves versus the have-nots, and the battles are wearing us out.

Central to the struggle is that we hear so much more of the world’s philosophy of life than of the philosophy of Jesus. We are bombarded with advertisements promising us "the good life" if we will just buy more and more and more. The witness of Holy Scripture is that the good life cannot be bought, it is not for sale. The good life does not consist of luxury cars, designer clothes, or sumptuous feasts. God’s blessings upon us cannot be added up in economic terms.  

Whose life is it, anyway?

We are currently dealing with an enemy — Covid 19 pandemic — that few if any of us saw coming.  This enemy has infected millions, killed thousands, and is still working its havoc among us.  We have seen Babel, the prosperity god of our world, brought to its knees. The personal and economic effects of this pandemic are still being written.  

How ought we to respond?  Should we buy and hoard all that we can (including toilet paper)?  Should we go and do what we want to do, when we want to do it?  Who cares if I carry the virus to a vulnerable person?  Do we really have a constitutional right to not practice social distancing and safe health and endanger others?

Quite simply, our answer reveals quite clearly our philosophy of life:

"This is my life and I can do with it what I want.”

“This life is the gift of God; therefore I am responsible to God for how I live." 

Whose life is it, anyway?

Retired Methodist Bishop Will Willimon tells the story of a former member who had been put into a nursing home. Knowing that the man was in excellent physical condition he inquired as to the reason. He learned that "John Smith" had been sent to the nursing home because of his "distressing mental state." When pursuing the reason further the other person told him: "His children became distressed about his mental well-being. John had volunteered, in his retirement, to work a couple of days a week at the church sponsored soup kitchen. The next thing they know, John has gotten so involved over there that one day he sat down and wrote them out a check for $100,00! Just like that. With no discussion, no forethought. $100,000. He handed it over to the soup kitchen. This $100,000 was what was left of most of his life’s savings. Of course, they thought he had gone over the deep end. So, they forced him to go into a nursing home where he would receive supervision." ( Will Willimon. Pulpit Resources. I have lost the exact reference.)

"I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything – all she had to live on."

Whose life is it, anyway?

May 10^th, 2020