Pastor's Perspective - Twelve Minutes

Columnist Erma Bombeck said, “Thanksgiving dinners take eighteen hours to prepare. They are consumed in twelve minutes. Half-times take twelve minutes. This is not coincidence.”

Well Thanksgiving 2009 is here. Admittedly, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year. I know, as a pastor it should be Easter or Christmas, right?! However, Thanksgiving charged past the holiday pack and took the lead somewhere in recent years absolutely unannounced. I believe it got its turbo kick through my deepening appreciation for family (especially mine), and the ability to authentically embrace something we all hunger for – contentment.

Something else has changed recently. As I walk with the Lord, I’m finding that most of my prayers nowadays are bulging with, “Thank you Lord.” Where in the past, my conversations with the Father initially began with thanks as a precursor to the main thing, “Lord, please do..”; my prayers are different now. I’m enjoying just thanking Him, without asking Him for anything. As I’ve shared many times, I sincerely believe that as we seek and acknowledge His benevolent face with gratitude, His hand naturally opens.

This year I have much to me thankful for..

A Father who is on the move, continuously telling an epic redemptive love story, in which He graciously allows me to a bit player and passing cast member.

A Son who is absolutely sovereign over His everlasting Kingdom, yet loves to the point of death, and still dons a towel to serve His creation.

A Spirit that gloriously possesses permeating and transforming power to change hearts, destroy insurmountable obstacles, direct the aimless, and illuminate our darkest realities here below.

A wife who loves me despite my many foibles, is distinctly dependable, annoys me with her discernment, masterfully lassoes daily a tornado known as the Kiefer household, and is adored my her children, countless friends, and critters.

Children who continue to amaze me, tighten their grip on me, and stoke the flame of immeasurable love and pride in their Daddy’s heart.

Parents and in-laws who prove regularly that encouragement and cheerleading do not diminish with age or across time zones.

Siblings who still bring tremendous joy and laughter to their big brother.

Relatives and friends who remind me that ‘family’ and 'friendship' are God’s priceless legacies and sweetest kisses on my earthly existence.

A church of ‘real people’ that mysteriously tolerate my ‘Southernisms’, endless ‘Top Ten Lists’, my stage-stalking rants, my strike-outs, and my many weaknesses, yet, hug my neck weekly and lovingly call me their pastor.

Staff and Co-Leaders who are endlessly devoted, ridiculously talented, tirelessly zealous, and possess a miraculous gift – the ability to somehow make the lead pastor look good.

Lastly, an exciting Mission of a lifetime, big and adventurous enough to wake-up eagerly every morning and take my place in the fight.

Enjoy your twelve minutes!

Pastor's Perspective - Solitude Solution

For many years since entering the full-time ministry, I have wanted to go somewhere and have several days of solitude and uninterrupted time with the Lord. Last week that fantasy came true.

Thanks to the graciousness and generosity of many, I spent four days in a great cabin in the foothills of the Sierras. I loaded up my Beetle with some groceries, books I have been wanting to read but could never get around to, my new laptop, a few changes of clothes and my Bible, and made the scenic hour and a half drive. The cabin was beautiful, isolated and absolutely perfect for what I envisioned and needed. To add to the backdrop, the weather was fireplace chilly. There was no cell phone coverage and no television. Again, perfect.

Each morning after washing up, I’d read extended passages of Scripture at the dining room table, followed by the most captivating and moving experiences of communion in recent memory. After communion I would fix breakfast, take walks, pray, read, take drives into town, and just be still and silent before Him. I read several books in one sitting (something impossible in my weekly routine), all of the psalms, and outlined and wrote the ‘Introduction’ for the book I’m writing. The only thing I didn’t check off my list was to return back to Chelle and the kids with a big wild mountain man beard (which for anybody who knows me would have taken a merciful act of the Most High!)

Besides enjoying rest, I know that the Spirit was dealing with me, but honestly I’m not actually sure just what He did. Daily and unexpectedly, I would experience “waves” of joy and exhilaration that would result in unbridled praise and gratitude. However, just when I thought my excursion was a camp meeting, a rogue whitecap swept me away to tears of intercession and repentance. There were no burning bush or talking donkey experiences, but I knew that the wind was blowing wherever He wanted to blow, and that He was proving His mystery. I’m certain that He was filling in shallow places, while simultaneously tearing needless things in my character down. Maybe someday He’ll give me the details.

Good Lord willing, my hope is that this will be the first of many such pilgrimages. However, I must make a true confession, lest ye think mistakenly that I’m some Gibraltar of spirituality. While pecking away on my book one evening, alone in the cold dark woods, I thought of Kathy Bates walking up to me with a block of wood and a bad attitude! That night I locked my bedroom door.

Pastor's Perspective - Connecting with God? NO SWEAT!

So you want to connect with God? No sweat!

I was saddened to hear about the needless deaths of three people involved in a sweat lodge ceremony in Arizona earlier this month. The three victims were among sixty others attending a five-day retreat held by new age millionaire guru James Arthur Ray. Each person paid the $9,000 registration fee, subjecting themselves fully to a variety of life-expanding and spiritually stimulating experiences hosted by Ray and his staff. During one of these experiences, the sweat lodge, people vomited, passed out, became critically ill and even died. This tragedy is currently under investigation. Apparently, the sweat lodge ceremony was the culminating event after days of physically and mentally strenuous exercises, which involved fasting and one game in which Ray himself played God.

Sweat lodge ceremonies are closely linked with the religious practices of certain native American groups. Sometimes referred to as a ‘medicine lodge’ or a ‘medicine house’, a structure is built to facilitate a type of ceremonial sauna. In isolation and under extreme heat, the participants engage the process through drumming, chanting, and offerings to the spirit world.

God, through His Word, the Bible, has made it abundantly clear how we can and should engage Him.

First of all, we don’t need another human being to connect with God. The Apostle Paul wrote, “For there is one God and one Mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus” (1 Timothy 2:5). Simply put, our direct connection to God and unlocking the full potential of the spiritual you is through Jesus Christ exclusively – not through a guru with manipulative ideas and deep pockets.

Second, we don’t need to connect with God through physical manipulation or sensory stimulation. So many sadly rely, and are led into believing, that achieving a certain euphoric emotional state (oftentimes manipulated) is their way of ripping the veil separating us and the Almighty. Jesus told a rejected woman in Sychar, “Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks” (John 4:23).

James, a brother of Christ and leader of the Jerusalem church, wrote something so beautiful, “Come near to God and he will come near to you..” (4:8a). Friends, the cross of Christ is proof that nobody wants to connect with you more than your heavenly Father! No one paid a higher cost to forge such a precious and necessary relationship. Scripture reminds us that while we were still God’s enemies, Jesus died for us. In other words, we don’t have to torture ourselves and subject ourselves to false teachers to get it!

So, how do we authentically connect with God? The answer is simple – Jesus Christ.

Jesus said, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).

So, if you are hungry to connect with the Highest Power available, I’ve got good news for you! Put the self-help book down. ‘Void’ your $9,000 check. And, save yourself from a whole lot of physical and emotional exertion and manipulation.

God is wanting you to connect with Him today – right where you are – through the Lord Jesus Christ.

No sweat!

Pastor's Perspective - The Power of Sloppy Kisses

I wish all of you could meet my Oma!

The endearing name ‘Oma’ is a German slang for grandmother. Recently Oma was hospitalized in Reading, Pennsylvania, so she has naturally been on my mind and in my prayers. Indulge me as I share just a few things about this amazing and unforgettable 93-year-old.

Oma raised three children in the middle of WWII, while my grandfather (‘Opa’) was off fighting for the bad guys. She kept her family together in the midst of chaos in a battle-torn, dictator-led country, surviving under the harshest conditions. Following the war, she left her family and homeland for America. By way of Canada, she and Opa eventually settled in the suburbs of Buffalo, New York. It was there that my then teenage parents (Klaus & Sandy) met as neighbors, and fell hard for each other. Mom was a pretty, gregarious, brown-eyed brunette; while my Dad was a hard-working, blue-eyed foreigner, bent on destroying the English language single-handed! After a long sweetheart courtship and eventual wedding, I came along in a blinding Lake Erie snowstorm in January 1963.

I always adored my Oma. From my earliest recollection, she has always been old! After we moved to Tampa as kids, we would beg to go see her every single vacation. As a child the hardest moment was saying goodbye to her. Several days before our departure, she would already be saying things like, “In four days you go home, so far away. I hope I see you again.” She had us weeping days in advance! I laugh at that now as a 46-year-old man – crying that I’d never see Oma again - back in 1970! I still think she’s going to outlive us all.

Oma never mastered the English language, speaking only German with Opa. Oma also never drove a car, because Opa drove everywhere. Oma was a ridiculously amazing cook and housekeeper. She was a ‘hausfrau’ through and through, and wore that title with great pride and honor. She adored all her kids and grandkids (still does) and lavished us with crazy lavishing love.

Oma is my only living grandparent. Opa died several years ago, as did my wonderful grandparents on my Mom’s side (Albert & Mattie Lou Watson). Several years ago, Oma asked me to do something I’m already dreading. Oma asked me to preach her funeral someday. Naturally I’ll keep my promise, but I don’t have to like it.

With her last emergency hospitalization, I thought about the reality of keeping that promise. My mind raced back over a lifetime of priceless memories – the parties, the meals, 6-weeks in Germany with her in 1974 at age 11, the endless laughs, the hospitality, the culture and pride of heritage she instilled. Then it hit me. My favorite thing I love about Oma is this – before kissing me, she always licked her lips – big, pink, Euro lips! As grandkids, we would literally inhale when we saw her coming with a smooch. There was no escaping those drowning, smothering, lip-locks. When Oma loved you, she did it openly and all the way. Dry kisses were absolutely unheard of at Oma’s place!

Today, she would remind all of us to love your family madly and affectionately while there is time to do it, withholding nothing when it comes to love. Let’s be honest. Your kids when they grow up will most likely forget everything you buy them this Christmas. However, they will never forget the love they experienced through positive consistent physical touch. So, honor my Oma tonight when you kiss your kids goodnight. Run your tongue over your lips and get em good! Sure they’ll think it’s gross. But they’ll doze off knowing that sloppy kisses can be wiped-off, but the love gets down deep.

Thanks Oma. I love you.

Pastor's Perspective - Justice

If moral relativism wasn’t so morally disgusting, it would be laughable.

Over the last few days I’ve casually been staying tuned to this whole Roman Polanski story. For those unfamiliar with him and his work, he is an award-winning film director. His story is a fascinating one, ranging from being a Holocaust survivor, to losing his wife Sharon Tate in the infamous Manson murders, to box office stardom. Thirty-two years ago, Polanski had sexual intercourse with a 13-year old girl. Since then, the United States has had a warrant out for his arrest. After fleeing justice all these many years, Polanski was arrested this past weekend in Zurich while attending a film festival. His legal team is aggressively fighting his extradition.

What is nauseating to me is the way many are trying to sweep the past under the proverbial rug and make excuses for him. Friends, Roman Polanski raped a child! The last I heard, that is still a horrendous, despicable and arrestable offense in this land, no matter how long ago it happened.

This week, celebrities are going so far as to saying it wasn’t a “rape rape.” Huh?! Some are saying that because he survived a death camp and lost his mother at Auschwitz that justice should go lightly on him. Others say that because he lost his wife so tragically that there should be great mercy extended to him. The biggest ‘but’ camp is citing his artistic cinematic talent to be his ‘Get Out of Jail’ card. Lastly, a few say that his advancing age should be considered, or that he is philanthropic.

As a pastor, I hear the very same arguments to answer, ‘Why God should let me into Heaven’. “Well, I don’t deserve hell, because I lived it here on earth.” “I’m a good person who helps people out when I can.” “I’ve lived a long life and deserve to go.” “I shared my talent for the enjoyment of many; therefore, I should get something, right?”

Friends, Roman Polanski committed a crime. He should and will face justice for it. No excuses can justify raping a child.

Friends, all of us have committed a crime against a holy God. We’re all guilty as sin and of sin! We have absolutely no justifiable excuses for our rebellion. However, Jesus Christ condescended to His offenders, and on a Roman cross, graciously took our full penalty upon Himself, satisfying God’s divine arm of justice.

Justice = Paying the due penalty of what we deserve.

God's grace = Jesus paying the due penalty of what we deserve.

How can we turn an offer like that down?

Pastor's Perspective - Next Tuesday

Last Wednesday I restarted my weekly morning adult Bible study called ‘The Pie Club’. Our group of about 12 have begun an exciting expedition through the book of Acts.

Last week I shared the pertinent introduction stuff – author, place, recipients, themes, unique characteristics, etc. We got to Luke’s amazing account of Christ’s glorious and promised ascension before our time together ran out. The angels in the scene remind Jesus’ team that He will come back someday in the same fashion. So, we began to talk about some of those dynamics –personally, physically, suddenly, and the like. Then our group matriarch, Margaret Rickard, posed a question I’m posing to you today as a reader – “What if we knew Jesus was coming back next Tuesday. What would we do?’

The room fell awkwardly silent. I then asked each attendee what they would do, knowing that each believed that Jesus was coming back and that He would come back suddenly. The answers varied, some with tears; but there was a commonality that was unmistakable – “I would do whatever I had to to get my loved ones saved.”

What would you do if you knew Jesus was coming back next Tuesday?

Pastor's Perspective - Where Were You?

I remember the morning vividly. It was just another Tuesday morning, or so I thought. I had a jam-packed ‘To Do’ list of things to accomplish at church that day. As I got ready, I flipped on the television in my bedroom to catch a few headlines before racing off. What I saw instead was horrifying; a live national nightmare. Both of the tallest towers of the World Trade Center complex were ripped open with the unmistakable black smoke of burning jet fuel billowing above them, dissipating in the wind. Stunned, I remember reaching for my cell phone and calling my secretary at the church office and saying, “Gena, lock-up the church and go home. The world just changed.”

Since that horrible day, Michelle and I have visited the WTC site twice. ‘Surreal’ is the only word I can find to describe our time there. During our second visit we took our children. Interesting enough, as buildings and fields burned in New York, Washington D.C. and Pennsylvania, our youngest Lily was coming into the world.

Just a year before the attack, Michelle and a girlfriend had visited a childhood friend who worked as a broker for Cantor Fitzgerald at the very top of Tower 1. By fate, he relocated with another company to another city in the interim. Through sobs he shared with Michelle on the phone that evening, “They’re all gone. Everybody I worked with and introduced you to – gone.”

Where were you?