"Neither do I condemn you..."

The woman caught in adultery, as recorded in John8:1-11, was literally, caught in the act. Mosaic law required that the two witnesses who brought charges would have been simultaneous eye-witnesses to the incident and it is clear she is guilty as she is brought before Jesus.

There is some discussion about the canonicity of this story, and some biblical translations omit it because it is absent from the earliest manuscripts; however, it finds its way into scripture and its truth are certainly commensurate with all Jesus taught. Whether it is original to the gospel of John or was written by another writer inspired by God--perhaps Luke--seems inconsequential in view of its clear message.

The adulteress should have been stoned to death--she and her lover, who is strangely missing from the story--a corroboration of the Pharisees preoccupation with entrapping Jesus, as opposed to arbitrating the law.

But Jesus shows compassion for her, and turns to accusers with the indicting invitation, "he is who is without sin, let him cast the first sone". Soon enough, the woman is left alone with Jesus, while her accusers slip away, impacted by Jesus' writing in the dirt (probably something about their's...)

It is this moment--Jesus and the adulteress alone--that is a moment common to every believer, a moment when we stand alone with Jesus exposed in our sin. It is a moment of recognized guilt, anticipated condemnation, and undeserved and unexpected exoneration.

"I don't condemn you", Jesus says.

Freed of such condemnation (Romans 8:1), I am enabled today to walk in a new life of freedom, made possible through Jesus' words, the expression of His sacrifical work on the cross where He paid the price and took the punishment for my sins.

I am a sinner. I am guilty. He took my guiilt and condemnation on Himself so I might be free.
And He says to me again today, "Go and sin no more".

a messianic complex

I can remember when I graduated from college and headed for the inner city area of Los Angeles County, armed with my Bible, four years of college and an over-abundant amount of confidence that I could change the world.

I spent seven years there and what I struggled to learn was that I could not save the world. I hardly could take good care of myself. I had a misplaced "messianic complex" that resulted in borderline "burnout" after trying to be too many things to too many people.

I am completing my thirty-ninth year in the ministry and I find lingering remnants of that messianic complex--fooling myself into believing that I can fix everything.

The bottom line is that I can fix nothing. I can maneuver things into a better position sometimes, and I can even manage to say some helpful things, but if change for the better occurs, I have learned it is not about me but what God chooses to do in spite of me.

I am in the middle of my seventh building program, the ultimate construction challenge I have faced in my life. I find myself foolishly thinking I can maneuver and manage the changes that I remember in moments of spiritual sobriety are only things God can bring about.

It's about time I figured out that messianic complex, don't you think...?!?

Americal Idol

I watch American Idol every Tuesday night if I am home. I have been trying to figure out what it is that makes me want to.

I am not crazy about most of the music and am not particularly drawn to most of the participants. I am uncertain that there is any redeeming value in the program itself.

Still...I watch.

I have decided that I watch because I am curious. Curious about what it is we like, what it is we want, what it is we idolize.

When the winner was announced last night--Taylor Hicks--his selection was greeted with a coronation-like applause. He was apparently overwhelmed by the moment of adulation and was transparent about his emotions--at times screaming, dancing and pumping his fist into the air.

He is the new American Idol.

He seems passionate about his music, though his voice is sometimes raspy and sharply-pitched in his singing. He loves to dance, and punctuates most of his musical numbers with unchoreographed movements and occasional gyrations.

He is affable enough, and even humble. He appears to just love to sing.

I guess that is why we love him (I didn't vote) and that is why he is now our choice as an Amereican Idol.

I am not sure how I feel about that...but I will probably be watching again next year.

I guess I am just another one of the American Idle

THE BEACH

four days at avila beach and I feel like a new man.

but I have to come back to the real world.

what is there about the foaming angry ocean that is so cleansing? what is it about ocean waves crashing against the ragged rock shorelines that is so peaceful? why is it that I find myself transported to calm and rest in the midst of its fury and restless power?

i know. it feels to me like God is there, in the midst of it all.

in my real world I need to make the same discovery...in the midst of anger, screaming emotions, and power surges.

God is there.

SETBACKS

Setbacks are exactly what the compound word indicates, a moving back from a previous position. Circumstances that "achieve" that end, are called "setbacks".

Our building project has had its share of "setbacks", the most recent being the burgeoning costs at project's end and the shortened cash flow we have to address them.

I wrote the members of our board today and shared the information, ending with these words, "God will provide!"

I know He will...He always has.

We are moving ahead.

heroes

Bob and Sharon Hallissy are friends of mine from earlier days in the ministry. When I pastored in Duncanville, Texas, they were connected with Wycliffe Summer Institute of Linguistics, located nearby, and began attending our church. They and their five month old son, David (now 19), became a regular part of our church fellowship.

I have several distinctive memories of Bob, Sharon and David.

1. David, at his father's request, jumped blind-folded into his arms as a part of my sermon illustration on faith. Fortunately, his father caught him!

2. Bob and Sharon invited our family to their home for a meal and upon questoning, revealed Bob had left a large job at Hewlett Packard in computers (and all the related benefits) for the "struggling" and challenging life of a missionary (my choice of words).

3. Bob was brilliant (from my point of view) and could have written his own ticket in a burgeoning world of software fortunes but had chosen to opt to assist in the work of Bible translation.

4. Bob and Sharon ministered to me in a time when I was literally devastated by a family crisis and encouraged me to remain in ministry. I will never forget their love and reassurance when I needed it most. They were the loving arms of Jesus to me.


Well, after twenty years of friendship, separated by nine years of mutual relocation in new areas of service, I visited the Hallissys in England a few years ago and caught up on our friendship. The culmination was just this weekend when they came to share at Grace and stayed in our home for two days.

They continue to use their gifts and skills to develop tools for utilizing non-Roman script alphabets in translation and Bob helps to develop the software while Sharon faithfully serves as a secretary. Twenty years later their faces continue to reflect the same excitement in serving the Lord and their desire to return to England to resume their work is compelling.

People like Bob and Sharon are the real heroes in Christian service, spending their lives behind the scenes in places far from home so that others might come to know Jesus, and become part of the family of God.

Day of Prayer

I just returned from our county's second annual prayer breakfast, held on the National Day of Prayer and supported by the local churches of the community.

Those in attendance represented about ten churches in our community. About 75 were there for breakfast including about 15 pastors and staff members. There was a challenging speaker and a significant time of prayer addressed towards specific needs of our country. I was glad I was there, surrounded by "two tables" of our church family.

The disappointment for me was that this was all we could muster from our county for the one day a year we meet together to pray--the most important thing we can do together and the most powerful thing we can do for our nation.

II Chronicles 7:14 is probably the most recited verse calling believers to prayer, beginning with these words, "IF MY PEOPLE..."

The promises of that verse--that God would heal our land--must not be inviting or powerful enough for God's people. If we believed they were true, prayer would be our first priority and prayer breakfasts and days of prayer would be more frequent and better attended.

What do you think?

MEDIATION

It is hard to help two parties estranged from each other come to a place of agreement and potential reconciliation. This week I have been involved in that pursuit through the counseling of hurting marriages, the correction of business misunderstandings, and the clarification of working relationships.

I wish I could report "success". I can only hope and pray that God brings healing and restoration in these relationships characterized by broken trust and deep personal hurt.

Jesus is the GREAT mediator. He brings men and women separated from God back into fellowship with Him through His death. It is a costly process with incredible benefits. All we have to do is avail ourselves of His provision for us.

Meidation in the secular world is costly as well. People must be willing to pay theprice of humbling themselves, acknowledging their own failures and taking time to truly listen to the offenses cited by the other party--husband, wife, parent, employer, fellow worker, neighbor, church member, etc.

Sometimes it is not a matter of "right and wrong" but a matter of "give and take". In any case, stepping back for a more honest look, or, for a less defensive posture, may help to mediate the crisis you are facing.

The Word of God encourages us by exhorting us to "make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification..." Romans 14:19. It may cost us something, but the potential benefits will make the sacrifice worth the effort!

my vegetable garden

Bev and I have agreed to garden special areas of our yard--she does the front and I do the back. Bev' s area is beautiful--color-coordinated flowers, contoured lawn and carefully-landscaped beds. The back is all on a slope and much more wild. But I love it!

I have added areas each year of flowers, shrubs and, now, fourteen trees. My original small plot has grown into a massive area of some burgeoning responsibility. My time is limited but when I have a moment I love to get on my hands and knees and pull weeds, redistribute dirt, repair my watering system, and plant new things. I often catch myself smiling when I am doing it, and wondering "why?" I guess it is because I love being in those moments.

This year, in anticipation of Counsin's Camp (we get the grandchildren together and plan a thematic week of activities--"Growing God's Way", this year), I planted a vegetable garden area, complete with peppers, carrots, beans, tomatoes, artichokes and squash. I know...what a combination! It should give the grandkids an object lesson of how things grow when planted, fertilized and watered.

As I was weeding the area, turning the soil over, raking it smooth...and then planting...I found myself smiling once again.

Easter reflections

Easter is a big church weekend...probably, the biggest of the year. It usually makes me tired. It is complete with Good Friday service and communion, Sunrise service, Easter Brunch and Easter worship, at Grace Fellowship. This year we had only one combined worship service (other than Sunrise service) and rented the high school fine arts building because our facilities are already too small. This added the load of setting up and taking down--all of that in the middle of a day-long rainstorm.

With all of the extended work and preparation, it is easy to go through the accelerated activity of this significant weekend for every believer--and miss the whole point!

I didn't do that this year.

From Friday morning as Beverly and I had our morning devotions I sought to focus on Jesus' death and commented on it throughout the day in every contact I had. By the time Good Frfday service rolled around, I was primed for worship and communion and left exhilarated.

Saturday was a day of preparing my mind for Sunday's services. I prayed we wouldn't have rain--God had other designs--and looked forward to the unparalleled privilege of declaring the good news of the gospel on Resurrection Sunday.

We awakened to torrential rains Sunday morning (I was up at 4:00 a.m.) and a meager crowd for our indoors sunrise service (I don't think I saw the sun all morning).

I arrived at the worship site early--someone had an emergency trip to the hospital from the setup crew--so I arrived to fill in. Unfortunately, 150 chairs were missing and we scrambled to find additional seating to accommodate the crowd we expected. I confess to a few moments of frustration and despair that the devil seemed intent on ruining a potentially wonderful day.

It poured rain all morning but all the volunteer cooks showed up with their egg quiches and fruit bowls and pastries intact, and everyone else showed up with their appetites and Easter Sunday smiles. It made for a great time of fellowship.

When the service began, every seat was filled (thank God for the extra chairs we found) and the opening song resonated with excitement in the acoustically-live gymlike setting. A progam of wonderful music, drama and congregational singing was a fitting agenda for a worship experience focused on Christ's resurrection. I truly worshipped.

And then it was my turn to stand and proclaim the good news of the gospel from Romans 5:1-11 with special attention to the incredble truth--"God demonstrated His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us!"-- and people responded that morning to the invitation to embrace that truth in repentance and new life!

It was truly a happy Easter on a big church weekend. But I will remember it with thanksgiving for its breathing new life into mine, at a time I needed to be spirituall refreshed.

san francisco

I just spent a day and two nights in San Francisco with my wife. While there we visited my son, Greg, who is working in the city and preparing to get ready for his pre-med training. It wa mostly cold and wet but a brief interlude of sunshine and spotty blue sky entertained us Monday afternoon.

And then we awakened to torrential rain...and returned home to the "safety" of Amador County, where it was raining, too.

Trips to San Francisco are good for me. I like San Francisco I like its cultural diversity, its congested downtown, its variety of eating fares, its street commerce, its night life and lights, its beautiful parks and neighboring ocean shorelines.

I like coming home to Amador County. I like its quietness, its meandering streams and velvety green hillsides, its antique towns and unplanned streets, its friendly people and slow pace.

Amador County is home.

San Francisco is the rest of the world.

The wisdom of elders

On Wednesday I met for prayer with 5-6 special people from our church family. Dick and Joyce were a part of that group and I realized how blessed I am to have them in our church family. In their seventies--but looking and acting much younger--they are a vital part of our ministry team at Grace and Dick is our oldest elder and I welcome his words of wisdom.

Yesterday I ate lunch with someone about twenty years older than me. Jim is a veteran Christian and and metal building contractor andI found myself hanging on his words of advice and counsel offered in the flow of a normal conversation. His gentle spirit was a comfort to me.

Today I purposely sat with our minister of senior citizens. He does much more than that but this is his primary area of service. He was a pastor for more than fifty years and I have the utmost respect and regard for him as a fellow pastor and a friend. Ward helps put things into perspective for me. His steadiness and grace are a remidner to me about how to appropriately respond to the challenges of ministry each day. He is a living example to me of what I desire my life to look like.

I was thinking that over the years God has led into my life men older than me--wise and mature veterans of the faith--who have supported me, prayed for me, and kept me going when I felt like quitting. Thank God for the wisdom of elders in my life.

"I AM THE BREAD OF LIFE"

Jesus' introduction of Himself as the "bread of life" in John 6:35 is significant to me. The promise that to partake of Him is to never hunger again is especially intriguing.

Barretts love to eat; in fact, we live to eat. Our conversations historically have been about the new restaurant most recently visited, the quantity (and occasionally, quality) of food served, etc.

In recent years that has changed for me due to health concerns and my determination to keep my weight under control. I relished the Adkins diet for over a year because it allowed me to do what most diets don't--eat! I think I have discovered that eating is my therapy for stress and boredom, and to some extent, it is how I subconsicously reward myself. Anyway, I am learning to "eat to live", not live to eat".

My eating is symptomatic, I know, of deeper concerns, and my quest to be satisfied. In earlier days my motivation to be happy and content was tied up with getting more stuff, having others' approval, and living from one fun-filled occasion to another, even though those events were infrequent. Subsequently, I suffered through periods of deep depression because I was ultimately not satisfied by any of these things.

I am learning that only Jesus satisfies the deepest longings of my heart. He is the "bread of life" and when I feed on Him--meditate on his Word, live to please Him, spend my life for others--I am content in the truest sense of the word.

My diet has changed as I have grown older and, hopefully wiser. I eat less and focus on other places of interest than the local restaurants.

And I allow myself to be satisfied daily by the "bread of life".

Will it ever stop raining?

Yes, I know we need the rain.

But when will it ever stop!?!

I suppose most of us have wrestled with this intrusion on spring. We are waiting for the arrival of the beautiful northern California sunshine, the advent of multi-colored wildflowers and the aroma of spring in the air.

On a personal level, I want the rain to stop so our contractor can begin his work on our turn lane, something required for occupancy of our new facilities.

I want the rain to stop so I can weed my garden and begin the therapy of working in my yard and enjoying the beauty of God's creative work coupled with my limited gardening skills.

I want the rain to stop so I can move from the treadmill in my cold garage to the outdoor walking and exercise that I welcome this time of the year.

I want the rain to stop because the sunshine has a positive effect on my "fragile" psyche. I just feel better and more alive when there is blue sky and an un-obscured sun.

Sound like a whiner, don't I.

What I do realize is that when life is raining downs its recurrent challnges--the "rain falls on the just and the unjust"--I am generally wishing it would stop. ..stop so I can get on with life as I imagine it.

But I realize that the rain is good for me. Trials and tests make me lean more upon God, stretch my faith to examine His divine resources and not to selfishly indulge my finite and small reserves.

So I guess I will quit whining and thank God for the rain. The hills are greener, the sun appears occasionally-enough to give me hope for spring--and the building moves ahead, on a timetable that God knows about.

Even as I am writing, the rain has stopped...for the moment.

TEARS

I have had several moments in the last few weeks where I was tearful...not a comfortable place for most men. I was thinking about some recent contexts in which I had felt such deep emotion that I could not hide my tears...

*the shared pain of someone I love

*the firsthand observation of unparalleled disaster

*the recognition of personal failure

*a sad movie chronicling life's heartache

*an experience of worship contemplating God's grace to me

As I recall the specific details of each of these experiences I remember the sense of cleansing and relief I felt when my tears were spent, even though I was embarassed at my public display of emotions.

I am learning as I get older that it is okay for me to cry. Even though I have secretly felt for me it was a sign of weakness--and obviously it cannot accompany the daily responsibilities of pastoral ministry (many of which make me want to cry)--I am becoming more comfortable with the idea of being authentic about my true feelings.

John 11:35 observes Jesus at Lazarus' house with the shortest verse of scripture, "Jesus wept". This reminds me that Jesus had a very human side to Him and when we are told by the writer of the book of Hebrews that He is "moved by our infirmities", I am encouraged that tears need not be shunned or stifled.

I shed some tears when I preached on Sunday. I was embarassed. But it was how I really felt about what I was sharing.

It is Wednesday...and I am okay about it.

Little is Much...

"Little is much when God is in it..." are the familiar words of a song I heard as a child growing up (yes, it is an old song) but its message resonates within my heart after a week spent in New Orleans.

Mike Stromberg, Terry Throssel, Bob Swett, Steve Thomas, Bob Temple and Dan Simpson joined me for seven days on a work trip to Desire Street, the location of Sean and Emily Rorden's storm-battered home. For the last seven months as Desire Sreet Academy has relocated in Florida and Emily has continued her studies in Baton Rouge, Sean and Emily have spent most of the time separated from each other--and they are still newlyweds!--and away from the home they had lived in for only two months when Hurricane Katrina struck with a vengeance. Rain, winds and a faucet turned on by an errant tile from neighbor's roof, innundated their home with water and the resultant damage made the house unliveable.

Armed with tools, our work team arrived on Sunday evening, settled in at a hostel in downtown New Orleans and prepared for the job of ordering materials, redoing drwyall, taping and texturing the walls, painting the entire house, repairing the roof, restoring electrical fixtures, replacing all the door mouldings, installing new doors, "replacing" the kitchen sink and appliances, repairing some sub-floor, and generally preparing the house for Sean and Emily's happy re-entry on Friday evening, where they spent the night awaiting the arrival of carpet and flooring over the weekend.

Sean and Emily live in the upper ninth ward, a poverty-stricken area of the city hit hard by the hurricance, though not as dramatically as the lower ninth ward. Desire Street Academy, where Sean works as a teacher and coach, was devastaed by the flood and is currently undergoing rennovation and repair by numerous workt eams who have come to render aid. The academy is a beacon light in an impoverished area offering school, church, a medical clinic, sports programming and a variety of other resources in the name of Jesus. CURE is a group of 15-16 local churches that have banded together to suppport and enable this ministry. Due to the hurricane's devastation--the lower ninth ward looks like a war zone--the ministry has relocated to Flordia where it is housing and educating 80-90 boys from the academy.

Though a new location is planned in Baton Rouge in 2006-2007, the prayer is that Desire Street Academy will once again shed its light in this community as the plans for New Orleans continue to be hammered out. Decisions about viability, insurance and liability will be carefully evaluated as a final decision is made.

Until then, we can be praying for the staff and teachers of Desire Street and for God's direction for the ministry ahead. We can pray, too, for renewed strength and a sharpened vision about how their incarnational ministry can continue in this area so desparate for God's presence and power.

Sean and Emily's small house is a lighthouse as well in an area of broken-down houses and broken-up families. The return to their home will allow children once again to knock at their door and to find the love and attention they crave, all given in the name of Jesus.

I am basically unskilled when it comes to building things. For a week, however, I did what I could with the "little" I had to offer, and watched it--with six of my brothers--turn into something much larger...into literally a potential ministry center. I can't be there physically--Sean and Emily can--but I, along with the gracious members of our church family and all of our work team--helped make that happen. It is a week I will never forget!

"Little is much when God is in it..."

NEW ORLEANS

On Sunday morning seven men--including me--leave for a work trip in New Orleans. Our church has a vested interest in a young lady from our congregation and her husband, Sean and Emily Rorden. Sean works at Desire Street Academy, a school for needy young men in New Orleans, now ravaged by the flood. The school has relocated for the time being in Florida, and Emily continues her training as a registered nurse in Baton Rouge.

Sean and Emily's house was also damaged by Hurricane Katrina and our crew is going in to make repairs to make the house once again livable. Needless to say, we are all excited about this trip and the opportunity to help a young couple in ministry whom we love very much.

The Grace of Giving

On Sunday I spoke on the subject of giving, using the passage from II Corinthians 8:1-9 as my reference.

So much of giving is construed as a money issue--yet it is much more than that. Verses 8 and 9 tells us that for our sakes Jesus, who was rich, became poor--the Incarnation reveals this--and because of that, we who are poor, are allowed to become rich in Christ through His provision on the cross. The enormity of Christ's self-emptying (see Philippians 2) in coming to earth as a man, and the volitional laying down of His life for us that we might live, is the basis of our understanding of grace.

Here's what I see in this passage that recites the experience of the Macedonians who gave sacrifically to the needs of others--that our experiences of grace in Christ are what motivate our expressions of grace to others. The Corinthians, who excel in other gifts, are exhorted by Paul to "excel in the grace of giving" as well.

The Macedonians begged for the "privilege" to give in spite of their own "severe trial" and gave with "overflowing joy", and their extreme povery welled up in rich generosity."

Jesus modeled this "grace of giving" on the cross, and the Macedonians imitated this mindset in their own giving. We, as the Corinthians are, are challenged to do the same.

As we shared Communion Sunday and reflected upon Christ's work, our congregation had an opportunity to consider the experience of grace we have in our relationship with Christ, and, then, to offer ourselves to God and to others in the expression of the grace of giving.

still a dad

When your children grow up and leave home, they don't...really.

I say that with a deep sense of satisfaction.

I have enjoyed having my son, Greg, live with us the last seven weeks. He is getting ready for another move in his life--this time to San Francisco. His transition included getting settled in an apartment and finding work--all goals that he accomplished. It was fun for me to help him move his things into an apartment in downtown San Francisco, huffing and puffing up the hills from the garage to his upstairs room. I simply felt proud to still be his dad!

I have really enjoyed having my daughter, Jennifer, and her two children--Milla and Owen--with us for about ten days. Jennifer lives in Texas so I don't get to see her very often but this has been a wonderful time of just "loving on" her and our incredible grandchildren! It is also a time that we have had to sit and talk and talk about the changes that are an inevitable part of all of our lives. I am glad, however, that some things remain constant. I am still her dad!

taps

I just had a funeral for a fellow I never knew.

It was wonderful to hear all the nice things said about him by his son, his nephew, distant cousins, fellow workers, neighbors and friends. Seldom have I heard such consistently kind words said about anyone.

Chuck served in the Air Force and so at the end of the service a military guard presented the flag to his wife while a distant bugler played "Taps".

"Taps" was a song played in the Civil War that signalled the end of the day. There is alot of debate about who wrote it--most assume a fellow named Butterfield--but no argument about its place as a haunting, yet comforting sound, at day's end.

As I listened to the twenty-four notes of "Taps", I thought about the end of my day--and the end of my days--and the kinds of things people might say about me.

I hope I fare as well as Chuck.