Jim Preisig

Sent to Finish the Race

This is straight from Wikipedia:

1968 Olympic marathon

John Steven Akhwari: While competing in the marathon in Mexico City, Akhwari fell, badly cutting his knee and dislocating the joint. He continued running, finishing last among the 57 competitors who completed the race. The winner of the marathon, Mamo Wolde of Ethiopia, finished in 2:20:26. Akhwari finished in 3:25:27,^[2] when there were only a few thousand people left in the stadium, and the sun had set.

As he finally crossed the finish line a cheer came from the small crowd. When interviewed later and asked why he continued running, he said, "My country did not send me 10,000 miles just to start the race; they sent me to finish the race."^[3]

 

What do you suppose that God has sent us to do?

 "I have fought the good fight, Ihave finished the race, 

I have kept the faith." (2 Timothy 4:7)

Pastor Resigns…

You’ve heard the story before: “Pastor Resigns, Moral failure cited as reason…”

 

This time it was Paul Brooks, pastor of the Raytown Baptist Church for the past 26 years. He was accused of actions that violated the by-laws and moral standards of the church. In response, he resigned.

 

I have never met Mr. Brooks. As a family we attended several of the Christmas events at his church, but I never crossed paths with him. Nevertheless, my heart fell when I read the accounts. It may be old news to most, but this week was the first I heard of the tragedy.

 

It felt like a tide of dirty water washed over me; so I prayed.

 

First, I prayed for his wife of some 30 years. The pain, sorrow, grief and anger she must be feeling defies adequate description. My heart goes out to her.

 

Then I prayed for his church. This church has been rocked by a scandal that will threaten not only their ministry but also their very existence. Think of the people who believed in their pastor and trusted his leadership who are today mistrustful of all pastors, all churches. Think of the ministry that won’t happen because of this moral failure.

 

And then I prayed for the cynical souls who will say, “See – pastors are all sheisters and they cannot be trusted. Churches are just after your money, so why waste your time?” These are souls that will never hear the voice of God because the sinfulness of God’s servants prevented seekers from truly seeing the Holy.

 

And then I prayed for myself. This year marks 28 years of full time service in the ordained ministry of the church. My commitment to God is finish strong – untouched, untainted by the scandals that have destroyed so many ministries. To do so, I’ll need to stay close to the Lord; to guard my heart from the temptations of the world; to be sensitive and compassionate to the needs of His people; and to keep my promises made to Him and those I love.

 

Is it any different for you?

 

That’s what I intend to discuss with you in worship this weekend.  

 

 

If I had Life to Live Over

Erma Bombeck wrote this way back in 1979. I didn’t understand it then, but I’m starting to understand it now.

 

Someone asked me the other day if I had my life to live over would I change anything. 

My answer was no, but then I thought about it and changed my mind.

 

If I had my life to live over again I would have waxed less and listened more.

 

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy and complaining about the shadow over my feet, I'd have cherished every minute of it and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was to be my only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

 

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

 

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.

 

I would have eaten popcorn in the "good" living room and worried less about the dirt when you lit the fireplace.

 

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

 

I would have burnt the pink candle that was sculptured like a rose before it melted while being stored.

 

I would have sat cross-legged on the lawn with my children and never worried about grass stains.

 

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television ... and more while watching real life.

 

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband which I took for granted.

 

I would have eaten less cottage cheese and more ice cream. 

I would have gone to bed when I was sick, instead of pretending the Earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for a day.

 

I would never have bought ANYTHING just because it was practical/wouldn't show soil/ guaranteed to last a lifetime.

 

When my child kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now, go get washed up for dinner."

 

There would have been more I love yous ... more I'm sorrys ... more I'm listenings ... but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute of it ... look at it and really see it ... try it on ... live it ... exhaust it ... and never give that minute back until there was nothing left of it.

 

Are You Saved?

 

Ever have someone accost you on the street corner with the intrusive interrogative, “Are you saved?!”

 

My standard reply is to simply say yes. The really aggressive, skeptical ones may ask when, to which I reply, “Two thousand years ago.”

 

Someone else thought it up, but it seems to work; but do you ever find yourself wondering? Are you really saved? Can you be sure?

 

Tonight I’m doing a class at church entitled, “Am I Saved?”

 

The first 25 minutes of the class will be lecture, followed by an equal amount of time for questions. If you are curios, please join me! Tonight, at 7 PM in rooms 117/118 at the end of the hall in the Contemporary Worship Center building.

 

Ever wonder what Hell is like?

Do you even wonder what Hell is like?

 

The other day I waited 90 minutes at the licensing bureau and found myself pondering the nature of hell.

 

Most of the folks sharing the plastic chair endurance test were staring at the walls, lost in a seemingly grim daydream. Some looked like they were somewhat torn, weighing the appeal of bolting for the door against the pain of returning another day.

 

I found myself feeling the greatest pity for the poor souls trapped behind the desks. They were able to lock the doors at 6 PM but needed to stay until all were eventually served. Some served were obviously rather irritable.

 

Jean Paul Sartre once wrote that, “hell is other people.” He’s right, I suppose, as it can be hellish to endure time with some people. Made me wonder if hell has harsh fluorescent lights, cheap linoleum and un-ergonomic plastic chairs that cause you to constantly slide lower in your seat. And might it be populated with irritable people who don’t speak, or do so rudely to each other?

 

So then what would heaven be like?  

 

Here’s the irony: it could have fluorescent lights, cheap linoleum, and uncomfortable plastic chair IF the right people were present. Think of the people you have loved and entrusted to God; wouldn’t it be heavenly to spend time with them even if it was at the Department of Motor Vehicles?

 

So what’s the difference between heaven and hell? The presence of God. For God is love.

 

BTW - you can now renew plates on-line.

I think I'll do that next time.

 

 

 

Remember: Tuesday evening, September 27^th, at 7 PM I’m doing a seminar entitled, “Am I Saved?” No cost and no registration necessary. Come and join me!