Fathers stepping up

I remember a number of things about my dad as I was growing up. He was always there when I had a ballgame, be it baseball, basketball or football. Though he wasn’t really a big fan of basketball. When he was off work with a shoulder injury during my senior year of school, my teammates would see him coming to a game or practice and say, “Your dad is flying in again today!” (He had an airplane splint because of the shoulder surgery). When it came to the University of Michigan, I graduated from there, but he is the one that truly bled maze and blue. I loved hanging out at the fire station with him (he was on the volunteer department in our small town). And of course my love of weather probably stemmed from him. He passed away eight years ago, but I have a lot of good things that I remember about him.

With all of these good memories there is still one I don’t have. My dad, though he said he believed in God, only stepped into a church building once that I know of outside of attending a wedding or funeral. And when I decided to switch from getting my Master’s degree in Meteorology to one in Bible, his words still stick with me. He just said, “I wish you wouldn’t,” and walked away from me. Again these are memories I have, maybe not good ones, but things that did happen. The memory I wish I had, but never happened, is my dad asking me to pray with him. I would have loved to go to my Heavenly Father in prayer with my earthly father. But it never happened.

I think of this when I read Paul’s introduction in the second letter he wrote to Timothy. He commends Timothy for his sincere faith, which is a good thing, but then continues on. The faith that first was in “your grandmother Lois and then your mother Eunice” (2Timothy 1:5). We are told that Timothy’s mother was a believer, but his dad didn’t appear to be (Acts 16:1-2). My mom, much like Timothy’s was a tremendous godly person. Her faith and commitment was known. And like Timothy my father was not committed to God or His ways.

In our society it often seems like the spiritual influence on a child is left up to the mom.

Fathers, it is time for us to step up and be what God calls us to be. Take the time to be at your kid’s activities, root them on, and encourage them; but also pray with them. Take a few minutes out of a very busy life to stop, sit down, and pray with and for your child. Yes, you can pray as a family with all your kids present, but how much more special would it be for each individual child to just sit on the back deck, maybe in their room or on the couch, and just the two of you pray together. Fathers, we need to step up--not taking anything away from the wonderful moms our kids have--but just step up.

I challenge you. I encourage you. I beseech you. Step up, take the time and pray with your child. It will be an impression that they will have for a lifetime.

Still praying with my kids,

Randy

Not forgotten

Monday is Memorial Day, a national holiday in our nation. It is a day that as a country we traditionally remember those who fought and died for the freedoms we have. It is remembered through parades, visiting cemeteries and on a national level, a visit to the Tomb of Unknown Soldiers by the president or vice-president.

The tomb is an interesting concept to me. It is a monument, a memorial to unknown individuals. Not unimportant: after all they are individuals whose lives were ended so that we as a nation could continue to more forward. But unknown. There isn’t a simple white cross, a flat brass plate in the ground or a makeshift wooden cross somewhere with their name on it. They are unknown.

As time marches forward like a parade coming down the street, changes occur. Parades are one of those things that change. There are still some parades around, but they seem less attended and less important than they did when I was growing up. The school band would march down the street, some floats came along and best of all for the kids--the fire trucks would turn their siren on to the delight of us all. But changes occur.

Probably for most the change is about the emphases of the day. What was at one point a solemn remembrance has become a day off school or work. A day for back yard cookouts and if the weather is good enough, a trip to the beach or pool. It is even considered the official start of summer. So the day, as many things do with time, has changed.

But my thoughts go back to those unknown soldiers, specifically the unknown part of that. To us they are unknown, but to God they are not. They are very known by Him. In the midst of telling us to not worry, Jesus tell us that the very hairs on our head are numbered (Matthew 10:30). Whether this is literal or figurative, the meaning is the same: you are important to God and He knows you intimately. On those days when everything is going great, you are not forgotten. And on those days when things, well, aren’t going so great, you are not forgotten. The unknown soldier is not unknown to God, nor are you.

So whatever you are doing this Memorial Day. It may be watching a parade go by, hoping the fire truck sounds it siren right as it passes you (or not). You may be enjoying the delicious burger, dog, brat or other foods flavorfully cooked on the grill. Maybe you’ll take a dip in the lake or pool, if mother nature cooperates. You might stop by a cemetery to put flowers on the grave of someone known by you. Take a step back, take a deep breath and realize you are not forgotten, but loved dearly, by our Heavenly Father.

Being remembered,

Randy

Ceremony VS sincerity

I recently read an article about Israel and the “Holy Land”. The article was mainly about politics, religion and how the two are tied together. Is the nation of Israel still God’s people or is the church the “New Israel”, ie God’s people. The article was interesting to read, but not what really caught my attention or what stuck with me. It was the picture at the top of the article, a picture of people at the Jordan River.

Yardenit, Israel was the sight and is sometimes known at Yardenit Baptism Site. The picture showed a group of people wearing simple white baptistry garments lined up to walk into the Jordan river to be baptized. One was kicked back sitting on a rock wall. Another had their cell phone out taking pictures maybe videos or both. It appeared to be a paved path that led them into the water. Obviously a sight that has been established and well used.

Now it did give me pause as I looked at the set up. There was the paved walkway leading into the river, which was good and probably a lot less messy than walking through mud. But the pathway was lined with what reminded me of rails you would see as pigs, sheep or cattle are herded through a pen to be loaded onto a truck. The group was funneled through the guards to the point where two people immersed them into the water, then the next person was waiting and they were then ushered to the point where they were to be immersed. I am a logistics person and can appreciate the seamless organization, but it seemed so commercial.

What I thought was positive about the picture was the way the individuals were being baptized. As I mentioned they were immersed, completely put under the water. Why would they do that? Well, it is what Jesus did. These people had traveled from all around the world to be baptized in the river Jesus was baptized in, in the same way Jesus was. . . minus the cattle guards. Why not just sprinkle or pour water on their heads? Because that isn’t what the scriptures say Jesus did.

I don’t judge their commitment to Christ, or the lengths they went to in order to be immersed in this particular river. It just seems like so many things now days are more ceremony that a sincere walk with Christ. Baptism isn’t a ceremony, but a commitment to follow Christ as our sins are washed away through our death in the water. It is a death, a burial and a rising up out of the water to live the new life Christ calls us to. We can’t judge anyone’s commitment, but we can encourage each other daily live a life that is pleasing to God.

What if someone took some snapshots of our Sunday morning. Would they see us following a ritual each week, a ceremony? Maybe. What I encourage you to do is not make it that. Sing with joy in your heart. Meditate on what the grape juice is all about, what the piece of cracker represents when it comes by you this week. And most of all remember that our coming together isn’t a ceremony but a celebration of our risen Lord!

Celebrating His Resurrection,

Randy Schilling