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Yes and No, No, No!

March 28, 2025

“All you need to say is simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything beyond this comes from the evil one.” (Matthew 5:37)

My wife and I are used to kids asking for something, like a giant Nerf Dart Gun or a 2-pound bag of M&M’s, and saying no. We’re used to the grandkids doing that now…and we say yes more often than we uttered that word to our kids. We’re even used to the grandkids asking the same question three times and saying, “No, no, yes!”

This week, we listened to a timeshare presentation. For some background, we joined the timeshare “adventure” twelve years ago. We aren’t rookies to the presentation game. Carol and I have sat through so many we’ve got to use our toes in the count now since all our fingers have all been counted. Why? Usually, it’s because we’re receiving two or three additional nights at the resort for a heavily-discounted price. Going to a “60 MINUTE” presentation is part of the agreement.

We listen, learn, make note of the beautiful pictures from places we haven’t visited yet, look at the offer from the time share company that seeks to have us part with more of our money, and then, very nicely say, “We aren’t interested.”

Simple enough. The lady, who is trying to convince us that we’re turning down the best deal in the entire universe, takes the hint and excuses herself to go get the paperwork she needs. We never see her again. A few minutes later, Salesman #2 shows up with an additional sweetening of the deal offer. He tells us that he didn’t like the deal that the first salesperson was offering and shows us a “much better deal!”

We don’t cave. We’ve said no once and now we say no again. The third person shows up a few minutes after that and puts the pressure on. In the process, he’s a bit insulting, as if he was going to make this whole episode as painful as possible.

Third no, and let’s go! The hour presentation tuned into two-and-a-half. It was more painful than the Department of Motor Vehicles, where you take a number and come back sometime in the far distant future.

Jesus said to let your no be no and your yes be yes. In other words, be a person of integrity. Let your word be your word. Stand on it. Honor it. Guarantee the solidness of it. Perhaps that’s become so rare that a timeshare salesperson looking for a commission doesn’t believe it’s possible. Maybe he thought people like my grandfather and father didn’t exist anymore.

Actually, they have passed on, but my wife is still here. When she says no, it means no…unless we’re in Target and the person asking is one of our grandkids. Then she caves in like a Florida sinkhole.

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Disneying Happiness

March 26, 2025


“For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit…” (Romans 14:17)

We did the Disney Thing. It was great…kinda!

I admit I’m a 70-year-old granddad who is much more content enjoying a quiet moment on the back deck as opposed to spending the day with 60,000 people scurrying to get to the next attraction where the wait line is already at 75 minutes. That’s me. I’ll admit that after 25,000 steps I was whiney, snapping like a turtle, and inconsiderate.

On my positive, wise, and observant side I observed thousands of people searching for the Disney happiness that pervades every Disney advertisement. There are no crying kids or yelling parents in the TV snippets that Disney invades your family room with. There are only nights lit up with fireworks and wonder-eyed children. That’s what the attenders are looking for. Surely, the $200-a-day admission ticket, after forking over $30 to simply park will guarantee that a person will find happiness. Yes, yes, the $80 for pretzels and drinks for the family seemed a bit excessive, but the worker did smile as she handed them over.

There I go again, getting sarcastic and grumpy! I admit it.

More and more, I find people searching for happiness that is a momentary event or purchased possession. Like me, who wanted to bring happiness to my three-year-old grandson after he had spotted a light-up sword that sprayed bubbles. “Granddad, I want that.” Like a grandfather being led to the slaughter, we walked over to the cart that held the souvenirs.

“You want this?” I asked. He nodded. I asked the young lady who was hawking the wares how much the sword…or I should say, my grandson’s happiness was going to set me back.

“Thirty-seven dollars.”

I cringed and then handed over my credit card. My grandson’s face lit up as he bubble-upped my face for the next fifteen minutes. He was a happy camper and, I admit, I was a happy granddad camper because of it.

And then we went back to fighting the crowds like a canoe trying to paddle upstream. We went back to the endless wave of people searching for that elusive happy experience.

In the Old Testament, Nehemiah said, “The joy of the Lord is your strength.” Joy keeps you grounded, steady, and wise. However, joy is found in something that can’t be bought. It’s already been bought, paid for, once and for all, through the cross of Christ. A crown of thorns (not Mickey Mouse ears) was the headpiece that paved the way for our joy. A three-year-old’s smile brought me happiness (drenched in bubbles happiness, I should say!) for a moment, and a heartwarming memory of the moment.

Jesus said, “I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.” (John 15:11) That’s a constant treasure that I’ve been blessed with, the joy of the Lord.

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Volun-told

March 22, 2025


“He directed two of his disciples, “Go into the city. A man carrying a water jug will meet you. Follow him. Ask the owner of whichever house he enters, ‘The Teacher wants to know, Where is my guest room where I can eat the Passover meal with my disciples?’ He will show you a spacious second-story room, swept and ready. Prepare for us there.” (Mark 14:13-15)

There’s a new term that I guess I missed. “Volun-told.”

It’s when no hands go up in the air, and something needs to be done. It’s Jesus saying to a couple of his disciples, “Go…” There’s a task at hand even when there isn’t a raised hand.

At school, whenever I need someone to take the class attendance slip to the office, there are so many students willing to volunteer, it’s like a rush for Taylor Swift concert tickets. Getting out of class for three minutes and strolling down the school corridor is savored by every student halfway interested in the body paragraphs of an essay construction. Heck! I’m interested, but I remind myself that I’m the teacher.

Jesus often “voluntold” his disciples to be about a task. Perhaps it’s because the gospels were written in a different language, but Jesus never said please when telling one of his disciples to do something. The only time he said please was in reference to “pleasing His Father.”

A disciple follows the one who is the teacher and, in doing that, follows the commands of the One directing. There is a trust factor involved in it. The disciple trusts in the guidance of the Leader.

Just my opinion, but I believe churches are populated with people who are waiting to be voluntold what to do. New people in the community of faith are especially in need of being voluntold. They are like the disciples of Jesus, unfamiliar with systems and procedures, needs and wants. Like a sports fan at a new arena searching for the section that his seat is in, they’re willing but uncertain.

On the other hand, there are a few manipulative people in faith communities who are prone to lay guilt trips on those who are a bit uncertain and vulnerable. If a request includes words like, “Jesus would want you to do this…” or “Anyone who calls themselves a Christian wouldn’t hesitate to say yes,” it’s manipulation in full throttle.

Jesus never commanded the disciples to do something that He thought was beyond them, even casting out demons. He raised the bar regarding their capabilities. He maximized their potential. So many followers of Jesus are uncertain of their potential. To be voluntold needs that element of the leader’s faith. In her charge there is the tone that says, “I believe in you!”

To be voluntold is to insinuate that people are on the same team and have the same goals and objectives. Sometimes, the church doesn’t need a committee to decide on how the squeak in the entry door is to be cured. Just tell Jim to do it, and it will get done yesterday!

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My Obituary

March 16, 2025


“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:55)

I was substitute teaching seventh-graders this past week, a certain class that I often am residing in and know the kids by name. On Wednesday, they asked me if I was going to be there the next day. My response was that I would unless I died. That got their attention.

Soon, our conversation steered toward my funeral. Would they be invited? Could they sit in the front row? Would they be allowed to cheer? (Cheer???) We went back and forth on how they thought my funeral should go, proper conduct and inappropriate actions. We even talked about cremation and whether my ashes could be placed in the classroom. It was creative in a disturbing sort of way!

I suggested that someone should write my obituary since they seemed to be so enamored at my passing. They did! And signed it! It was even signed by one of the other teachers.

It was suggested that I had been born in 1254 and was 800 years old and that I was survived by family members: Alpha Wolfe, Sigma Wolfe, and Rizzler Wolfe. For one of the classes, I laid down on the floor as a student read the obituary over me.

Entertaining, yes it was. When I’m in the class again after our spring break, I’m sure a number of them will express their surprise that my ticker is still ticking.

And then I talked to my friend, Dave Hughes, who was my best man and high school classmate. Dave, who now lives in Florida, shared the news of several of our old church youth group friends who are in the midst of serious health situations. One of them is perhaps in his final days, another is wheelchair-bound, and another has had his life altered my an ongoing cancer problem.

Death seems to have come close to us. In fact, it seems that it has moved right next door. The friend who is in his final days wrote a letter to his grandchildren in which he penned life principles for them to consider and live by. His heart was displayed in the words of life experience, wise beyond his years. They included such things as building strong relationships, embracing hard work, and living a Christ-filled life. While I was back in Ohio a few years ago, I attended the funeral of his father-in-law (One of my Dad’s best friends) who displayed the same life values. In truth, my dad was rooted in the same principles, one reason he was Deacon Emeritus of the church he was a part of.

As a Christ-follower, who I am is because of the One I follow. When I’m called home to Glory, there will be no sting because of His stain. My students might write my obituary (with a bit of AI help, don’t you know!), but I am graced by the fact that he is holding my hand for the journey.

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The Outward Appearance

February 21, 2025

“You don’t make your words true by embellishing them with religious lace. In making your speech sound more religious, it becomes less true. Just say ‘yes’ and ‘no.’ When you manipulate words to get your own way, you go wrong.” (Matthew 5:36-37)

Coaching basketball at the high school level this year has been challenging at times. I enjoy the time spent improving the skills and game understanding of the freshman and sophomore girls. They’ve made significant strides during the course of the last three and a half months.

One observation that has caused me to shake my head is the team tee shirts that different teams wear that say things like “Never Quit,” “No One Works Harder,” and “Hustle Defines Us.” When the game begins or the practice proceeds, it has often been my experience that the words on the shirt are in contradiction to the play or effort on the court. When little Johnny doesn’t get his shots or the amount of playing time he wants, a more accurate shirt would say, “Selfishness Defines Me” or “It’s Have Attitude Problems.”

Sometimes, the outward appearance is in sharp contrast to the reality of the situation.

Sadly, I find this is also true for a large number of churches. Sometimes, the church marquee that says “All Are Welcome” could be an antonym for what the truth is inside the doors. Grace and peace are two hopes that are often shoved to the side. Social media is the new connection piece for congregations to get their name and look out there. It’s one of the two main ways that people find a church home, the other being as a result of someone who is a part of the church and invites them to join them on a Sunday morning or Saturday night.

The outward appearance is always shiny, populated by smiling faces young and old, and committed to quality products to promote that “All are welcome here” mindset. Once in a while a church lays the truth out there right from the beginning. Like a church I know of back in Ohio that has a long list on their marquee of what defines them: King James Bible, Gospel Preaching, Soul-winning, Fundamentalist, Independent. They tell the truth right up front, more like a barbed wire fence to keep out the riff-raff.

Biblically-speaking, that’s the refreshing point of 1 Corinthians. The Apostle Paul draws a picture for us of the church at Corinth. It would make for a good reality TV series. They’re not very welcoming and considerate. They’re taking each other to court, and their sexual conduct could be defined as “steamy” at best. They’ve been prone to following personalities and displaying a kind of spiritual superiority. It’s a great depiction of what the reality of church life is sometimes.

Not that churches today should put it right out there on their sign: “We sin a lot here and do things that make Jesus cry.” Maybe a nicer way of putting the truth out there is to say something like, “Under Construction and Completely Forgiven.”

Meanwhile, I leave the gym after a game thinking the team shirts are about as accurate as the players’ three-point shooting. I think the shirt should say, “Can’t Throw It in the Ocean!” or “My parents say that defense is optional, but the offense is necessary.” Maybe one boy will have a unique, personalized shirt that says, “The Coach Doesn’t Like Me! That’s why I’m at the end of this bench!”

Those things probably won’t happen because, as we know, “The truth hurts!”

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Limiting Faithfulness

January 23, 2025

I well remember them,
    and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind
    and therefore I have hope:

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.  I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for him.” (Lamentations 3:20-24)

A long-time famous hymn, “Great Is They Faithfulness,” was sung as part of the presidential inauguration festivities. For many years, I have found myself humming the tune of that hymn. It echoes in my mind. Thomas Chisholm wrote the words to it back in 1923, sent them to William Runyan, who was a musician at Moody Bible Institute and editor of the Hope Publishing Company, who put the words to music. The hymn quickly became a favorite of MBI.

The irony, and the history we seek to ignore, is that Thomas Chisholm’s life was filled with crises and valleys. He had health issues that forced him to resign his pastor position. He had financial difficulties as a result of that. Life situations that would have made most people bitter towards God made him more dependent on God. The scripture basis for the hymn was Lamentations 3:23, a pool of hope in the midst of a lake of despair.

As the great hymn was sung this past week, it made me ponder the disturbing and annoying question that pricks me like an itchy pair of winter long johns: Are we willing to sing the hymn when things go our way, or do we have an intimacy with God that believes He is closely with us no matter what the news headlines read? Is His faithfulness evident only when we declare a victory or is it ongoing in the times of plenty and the seasons of drought?

It took the possibilities and the problems of life for Thomas Chisholm to write the hymn, not just the exaltation of a triumph.

I found it interesting that on the day of the inauguration, the College Football Championship Bowl game was played in Atlanta. When Notre Dame marched down the field on their opening drive of the game, a dominant eighteen-play series that had their quarterback, Riley Leonard, diving into the endzone for the score, the camera focused on him. Instead of a touchdown dance routine, he handed the ball to the official and gave a triumphant gesture. However, what I noticed was a scripture reference written on the white athletic tape around his right wrist. The verse was Matthew 23:12.
“For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

It was a message of humility. I’m sure Riley Leonard was disappointed in Notre Dame’s loss that night. Still, I’m sure that he understood the bigger picture: God is faithful in the difficulty of the valleys as well as the exhilaration of the mountaintops.

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TikTok, MLK, and Jesus

January 20, 2025


“…that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth…” (Philippians 2:10)

There was the sound of gnashing teeth and loud moaning in my youth Sunday School class yesterday. It wasn’t because of the extremely frigid temperature outside or the news of the severe famine in Somalia. In fact, most of my students don’t know where Somalia is. Instead of the cold of the Colorado morning and the malnutrition of African children, the students were weeping over the end of TikTok, or rather the end of their access to TikTok. They had been greeted with a warning that rivaled the Surgeon General’s words now printed on every pack of cigarettes, except worse. Smokers still have a choice. Tik Tok’ers don’t.

I pondered the “tearing of their cloaks” through the rest of Sunday. On Martin Luther King Day this morning, millions of African Americans remember what injustice was in life-altering ways before the Civil Rights Act. They faced much more than being unable to access videos on their cell phones. They were excluded, separated, diminished, abused, ridiculed, and characterized, at best, as second-class citizens. They didn’t have a voice, and their cries fell on deaf. After the Civil Rights Act, they still had to face oppression, exclusion, and persecution. Government legislation rarely is able to erase the hatred that is harbored in the hearts of people.

Interestingly enough, on this date in 1918, during the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia, all the places of worship were closed, and all religious instruction was outlawed. In essence, Jesus was told to take a hike from the country. Hundreds of Russian Orthodox bishops and priests were executed. Protestant Christians were imprisoned or sent to mental hospitals. Churches became the property of the government. It was a campaign to eliminate religion from Russian society.

Life is populated with injustices and adjustments. The two are often mingled into one. Because of their inconvenience, life adjustments are often characterized as injustices. Whereas, some of them could very well be, in other situations we have come to see that we are entitled to have them. For example, the uproar from students at my middle school when cell phones were banned from being used during the school day as a result of how they were impacting classroom instruction.

Meantime, injustices are often accompanied by adjustments. In Russia, the underground church developed as a result of religious persecution. The Jesus Who was told to take a hike was still a resident in the hearts and minds of His followers.

African Americans adjusted to the injustices of racial oppression by expecting it and protesting in non-violent ways about it. The images of people being beaten and churches being bombed gained a hearing from those who were appalled by the inhumanity.

I sympathize with the loss of TikTok, at least temporarily, for those who have come to use it on a daily basis. Like our expectations that the flight we booked a few months in advance will be on time and then we’re told at the airport that it has been cancelled, the inconvenience and frustration we experience makes one want to bang his head against the wall.

Head-banging and having your head banged are two different plot lines. In a way, one is self-inflicted, and the other is inflicted on us. There’s a difference. Just read what Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 11. Now, there was some serious injustice and persecution!

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Deep Thinking

January 5, 2025

 “Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd.  After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone.” (Matthew 14:22-23)

I’m not a philosopher. I wouldn’t even be so bold as to label myself a theologian. When I was in seminary, I’d sometimes have to resort to reading the theology of Pannenberg or Moltmann audibly in order to not go off the side of the road in mid-paragraph. Simple minds struggle with page-long paragraphs. But I struggled through it.

Ask me a history question, and there’s a much better possibility that I know the answer, even the nitty-gritty details of the occurrence. How I grow spiritually happens more in the quiet moments of contemplation rather than grabbing a theological work of Hans Kung off my bookshelf. I do better at reading a chunk of scripture and letting it roll through my mind rather than trying to read through the Bible in a year. I get lost around the time I hit Lamentations, which accurately expresses my demeanor at that time as well.

I went to the local Christian bookstore to find a yearly devotional and was amazed at the wall of possibilities but lukewarm about the product. I settled on a Tim Keller devotional, The Songs of Jesus, a devotional that focuses on the Psalms. Short readings each day that help me ponder and consider. If I can mine the riches in the Psalms this year, I’ll be blessed in more than a hundred and fifty ways. (Keller’s book, The Prodigal God, is still one of my favorites.)

The seminary professor who had the greatest impact on my life in the three years I was a student at Northern Baptist Seminary was Dr. Tom Finger, a professor of theology, who had an incredible way of making me think through why I believed what I believed. Analogy-wise, he caused me not just to dig the hole but to consider why I dug the hole in the first place.

Deep thinking requires slowing the pace, putting my cell phone in another room, maybe shutting the door, and not hurrying God to give me a pearl of wisdom. I’d be more of a swine than a follower if I did that. Deep thinking considers the grace of God from different angles, moves it around like a Rubric’s Cube that never quite gets completed.

Deep thinking looks at forgiveness and ponders how we pretend its existence and hold back on its potential. Deep thinking unmasks the tint of self-centeredness it can include while identifying the depths it can go to. It feels the ache and rejoices in the softness of its calling.

Honestly, we reside in a culture that too often is focus-deficient and swayed by how the moment feels. Our view of intimacy with God is prone to being dependent on the smoke-and-glitter of the last praise song. That sounds cynical because it is. I just wonder (There I go again!) if the Almighty would sometimes like to speak to us in the deepness of silence.

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Lock-In Looney

December 31, 2024

“Every day, they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.” (Acts 2:46-47)

My wife, Carol, reminded me that I’m not any spring chicken and that BYF (Baptist Youth Fellowship) is a few decades in my rearview mirror. The initials that more accurately apply to me these days are AARP. Nevertheless, I planned the youth lock-in at church for Saturday evening through Sunday morning, an 18-hour marathon fueled by two pots of coffee.

Why, you might ask just as Carol did, would I not only agree to but plan and encourage a lock-in for young people whose objective is to run the whole race of insomnia? After all, the last youth lock-in I headed up was in 1983 at the First Baptist Church of Lansing, Michigan. I can still remember the names of the excited kids: Steve Landon, Laurie Landon, Shirl Kentner, Jon Daniels, Jimmy Michels, Greg Nash, Michele Nash, Brian Baker, Becky Epps, Suzy Epps, Sara Epps, Becky Landon, Jenny Landon, Rachel Knox, John Girard, Phil Girard, and on and on. Perhaps the fond memories made me jump off the cliff for another go-around at lunacy.

Or maybe I remember how spending several hours together ended up being a bonding experience for the adolescents who came. It wasn’t like coming to church on Sunday with their families and being amongst a congregation of mostly older people. During that lock-in, they were the church, the Body of Christ, freed up to participate in the silliness of teenagers, talk about the topics of their world, and be who they were without feeling like someone was looking over their shoulder all the time. They could even run in the building and laugh long and loud.

In essence, this lock-in forty-one years later mirrored the one in 1983. Bonding and hilarious hysteria abounded. They enjoyed themselves and even settled down to focus on what they hope the Lord will do in their lives in the coming year. We shared communion together around midnight before doing something you can only do at a youth lock-in…watch “The Princess Bride” on the big screen in the sanctuary while munching on popcorn and drinking Coca-Cola (with caffeine!). At 4:30, we played the fast-paced group game that Jim Berlage taught us back in the 80s, “Mr. Boodle.” We went for a solid hour, and my voice began to give out at 5:30. They begrudgingly agreed to stop, and for almost an hour and a half, a silence settled over those who had been fighting the sleepies. I even grabbed forty minutes lying on a thin pew cushion with chiropractor implications.

The senior pastor, Dan Schumacher, and I have both discussed what we realize, and that is that only a clueless clergyperson would think that a thirty-minute sermon on a Sunday morning would be able to take care of the spiritual nourishment of a teenager. In fact, not just teens but anybody connected to a congregation. Okay, put another thirty minutes of prayer, singing, and sharing communion there. Even an hour of the community in worship doesn’t do it.

Young people need time together to bond. It is not a weekly lock-in, mind you! I can only do two pots of coffee every once in a while. Rather, occasional gatherings that create a fabric of caring, laughing, and being comfortable in the presence of their peers. It’s the youth equivalent of the early church.

And now, I’m working on building up my immune system for a weekend winter retreat. A good forty-two hours in a remote location where I pray there are shower facilities for the boys. A retreat with scented candles is one thing, but aromatic boys could be the death of me.

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Unrestful Peace

December 24, 2024


“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” (Luke 2:14)

There have been times in my life when peace is about as far away as the South Pole. Unrest and uncertainty cloud my mind.

I almost flunked out of college and wondered what my life would look like if I couldn’t pursue my calling. Would I be waiting on customers at the Borden Burger fast food place in town or selling shoes in Unger’s Shoe Store?

A few years later, I was a newlywed, out of seminary, and employed as the Minister of Youth and Christian Education at a church in Michigan. It was tumultuous as I ran into resistance to some new ideas I had about youth ministry. I had come with experience working with youth in Young Life, a small town church, and a large suburban church. Experience was no match for the wall of opposition I encountered. Carol had to walk with me in that first year of ministry. My stress and unease could be felt by her. The bliss of being newly married felt bloodied and beaten by a few church people.

And then there was our move to Colorado to pastor a church. I was naive about the tension in the congregation that revolved around an excitement that many had to move forward compared with those on the other side who wanted the church to stay the way it was. The place of peace had been vacated on Sunday mornings.

When I read the Christmas story, I feel the unease that settled upon its main characters. Unexpected pregnancies have a way of unnerving people, especially when one of the pregnancies is of the young woman, probably in her mid-teens, who is engaged but unmarried. The Message paraphrase of Luke 2:29 describes Mary as being “…thoroughly shaken, wondering what was behind a greeting (the angel’s) like that.”

The shepherds in the fields are characterized “as terrified”, Zachariah is “paralyzed with fear”, and Joseph is described as “chagrined.” Peace had taken a hike.

It is vital to the nativity narrative and for our stories today that peace rains down upon what was and what is now. God knows our hearts that are unrested. He knows the travails of our journeys and the troubling thoughts that rob us of sleep.

However, the same man who wrote in Psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” wrote in Psalm 23, “The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.” When our world seems to be crashing in on us, God is close at hand and faithful.

Peace is as close as His extended hand toward us.

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