CCC Blog

“The Universal Language”

When I was 14 years old, I traveled to Scandinavia with the Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp International Concert Band.  Blue Lake is a summer camp on the western side of Michigan that offered two week-long camps with concentrations in theater, dance, and choral and instrumental music.  I had attended the previous summer and was invited to audition for the high school international band.  I made it and opted to go. I remember my mom and dad being more excited about the opportunity than I was.  After all, I was just entering ninth grade and was self-conscious of being the youngest in the group.  But go I did and after spending all winter and spring rehearsing, we left for our summer tour of Sweden, Norway and Denmark in July. 

We ended every concert, whether it was in a cathedral’s courtyard, assembly hall or civic auditorium the same way… Stars and Stripes Forever, with the entire brass section standing up in grand fashion after a dramatic ritard before the final chorus.  The European audiences loved it, clapping in time with the beat and giving us robust standing ovations when the song ended.  The second to last song of every concert they also loved… Jean Sibelius’ Finlandia.  Though we were never actually in Finland, other Scandinavians seemed to honor and respect our attempt to play some of “their” music.  But as much as they enjoyed it, I did even more.  I instantly fell in love with the subtle power of this gentle melody (which we have in our hymnal as Be Still My Soul and This is My Song).  I even came home from that trip, confidently telling my mother that I wanted to have this song played at my funeral!  To her credit, she didn’t scold me for thinking of my mortality as a 14 year-old, or remind me that her funeral would likely precede mine.  Instead she said something like, “Well I think that’s a lovely choice.” 

I don’t know where the idea came from – to have Finlandia played at my  funeral.  I don’t consider myself morbid, nor one who thinks of dying more often than the average person my age.  But I believe I had some understanding from an early age that music communicates a reality of its own that is beyond the ability to quantify it with the spoken word.  We can confess with our music what is difficult for us to articulate with our words.  Singing and music expresses the deepest desires of our hearts; the truest intentions of our souls; our core convictions.  It gives us a voice when our words fail us and speaks meaning into the places of our lives that are beyond meaning.    

A few years after that European trip I wrote an essay for an English class in which I used the phrase: “If a picture is worth a thousand words, then a piece of music is worth a thousand pictures.”  I’m sure at the time I felt I was waxing poetic and philosophical.  In retrospect that sentence seems more corny than anything else.  But corny or not, I believe it’s true.  A week ago last Sunday Bob Wade and I were both getting ready to play in the brass choir and sing the recessional anthem Battle Hymn of the Republic.  I walked passed him humming the part of the song where the men sing in very staccato-like fashion “truth – is – mar – ching – truth – is – mar – ching…”  Bob was thumbing through his copy of the anthem but looked up upon hearing me.  He leaned his head back for a           moment, closed his eyes and smiled.  “Ahh,” he said, “that song brings back so many memories.”  And so it does. 

I don’t know what memories that particular song brings back for Bob.  But I don’t have to.  For it’s true for me too.  And I’m willing to bet, the same can be said for you as well.  Because all music provides us a universal language with which to communicate the meaning of our lives.  

Blessings – Michael

Financial Peace University

Last week we concluded our first Financial Peace University class. I hope this will be the first of many, as there have already been a handful of people inquiring about another opportunity to take the class.  Mike and Gerri Munos, and assistant Paul Gorden, did a truly fantastic job leading the class and I want to share some statistics from the last nine weeks. 

• We had 30 people begin the class (9 couples and 9 singles)
• 66% (or two-thirds) of the original 30 were from inside Central (1/3 came from outside the church)
• 4 people (2 couples) who attended did so free of charge. They are couples getting married at Central this year and as a “wedding gift” to them, I agreed to pay for their taking the class as part of the pre-marital preparation. 
• The ages of the group ranged from the mid 20s to the 70s.

Gerri Munos asked for a week 2 “financial snapshot” of our group.  On April 16, we collectively claimed:

1. $767,296 of non-mortgage debt
2. $431,474 of liquid cash
3. 80 credit and charge cards

In a second “snapshot,” our group (which then stood at 25 people) claimed:

4. $54,768 of non-mortgage debt paid off in seven weeks,
5. $53,907 in money saved in seven weeks
6. 24 credit and/or charge cards closed

I was a participant in the class for two primary reasons.  First, I wanted to see what the class was like so I could be informed of exactly what we were promoting here at Central. I have known Dave Ramsey’s work for a long time, read one of his books, and have incorporated versions of some of his principles into my personal life, but had never actually taken FPU.  Secondly, I believed our family was in a pretty good position in terms of spending, saving and giving but I was curious about what we might learn.

I was immediately, and consistently, impressed with how often I walked away from each class with several “take-aways” for things that we could do in our household to improve our overall family situation.  Two things emerged in particular: (1) I saw how, without paying close attention, there was a lot of “hidden waste” taking place in our spending.  Because of this, I realized how much more we could be saving for our retirement and for college, if we were more mindful and intentional about our expenses.  This has led to an ongoing conversation in our family about “wants” vs. “needs” and; (2) I learned I was not doing a good job teaching money management to our children.

To date Amy and I are working on a “master list” of changes we would like to incorporate into our lives but I can safely say that FPU has already made a positive impact.  We changed the ways we buy groceries, saving over $75 a shopping trip.  We still carry two credit cards (one for each Amy and me) but we have not used them in the last two months for things other than that for which we receive reimbursement.  And we have changed the way we work with our children. 

There is now a job chart in the kitchen with a “commission” (dollar amount) for each chore (25 cents to $9.00).  Each child maintains a ledger and every two weeks (when I get paid), they get paid.  Ten percent immediately goes to church, 10% goes to their savings account and 80% goes to their own “piggy bank.”   Every time they choose to deposit into their savings account, I promise to match the donation up to $10.

We plan to look at dates in the fall (possibly mid to late August through October) for a second session of Financial Peace University.  I believe in the importance of this much more than I did 10 weeks ago and will continue to pledge support to anyone – from within the church or without – who takes and finishes it.  

Blessings – Michael

“Like a Rock”

Throughout the bible there are many people we remember for the great things they did.  David slew Goliath.  Joshua knocked down the walls of Jericho.  Elijah conquered 400 Canaanite prophets on Mt. Carmel.  But of all these great men who did great things, the greatest may be one we remember for what he didn’t do…  Joseph, the earthly father of Jesus.  Imagine Joseph’s situation.  Shortly before his wedding to Mary he finds out, from a stranger no less, that Mary is pregnant with someone else’s child.  Wouldn’t Joseph be justified if he canceled the wedding, left Mary and went off to find a partner he could more fully trust? 

Yet, Joseph is known not for any of these things he could have done, but for what he does not do.  Joseph did not run away.  Whatever hurt, anger or insecurity he may have felt, it did not get in the way from his hearing the angel of God tell him, “Don’t leave, because this child needs a father in his life and you are the one who can fill this role.”  And so he stayed… for the child’s health and happiness, if not for his own.  An infant and toddler Jesus didn’t care what kind of emotional roller coaster Joseph might have been on after the angel Gabriel sprung all of that news on him.  An infant and toddler Jesus needed Joseph to be there for him, even if he couldn’t properly say it, or understand it.  So Joseph chose to be present in Jesus’ life and to be the father that both Mary and Jesus would need.  Not only did they need Joseph, we all needed him.  Without him the story of salvation could not have been written.  Long before Jesus was able to save any of our lives, Joseph saved his.  Remember that when King Herod ordered the infant Jesus be killed, it was Joseph who sheltered and protected Jesus in Egypt until it was safe to return.  

Being a father doesn’t happen when you have your own biological child.  It  happens when we see the world through the eyes of the children you are raising.  It is to recognize their needs and to strive to meet them, even if it means sacrificing the fulfillment of our own.  And what children need more than anything is a father (and mother) present for them – there for them. 

Throughout my childhood and upbringing, my father was always there.  He organized and coached my baseball teams, kept stats for my basketball teams, took pictures at every concert and sold concessions when he wasn’t doing anything else.  He arrived early enough to watch every pregame performance of the marching band and picked me up from nearly every football practice.  He got there early for those pick-ups too.  He’d always get there to catch the last 15 minutes and all the guys learned to watch for dad’s arrival knowing that when he came practice was almost over.  A few years ago, I received an email, completely out of the blue, from an old friend.  We played junior high football together.  His dad was a big-time college football coach and a bit of a local celebrity.  I hadn’t talked with him in twenty years, but he had read something I had written about my dad’s death in 1998.  Here is a portion of what he sent me:

 …I’m sorry your dad’s gone.  I want you to know that I always looked up to him and was a little jealous of you.  He was always there.  He shared an amazing gift with you and, in a sense, with me.  My old man was always gone.  I loved him for doing something he was passionate about, but he was always at work.  I think about your pops quite often, because I’m doing what he always did.  You should know that he played an important role becoming the man and father I am today.

As much as I love hearing wonderful things about my father, this email really isn’t about my dad or his dad.  It’s about what children need – rocks of strength, support and stability in their lives.  As Joseph reminds us, having a child isn’t what makes us a parent.  True parents ask not “What is best for me?” but “What is best for the children in my life?”  Which is exactly what God – our heavenly parent did and does for us.  God walks with us, lives with us, died for us, and rose for us.  God is our rock and refuge, always there, whether green pasture or dark valley.  So fathers, make time for your children.  Be there for them.  Work hard for them and provide for their future, but not at the expense of spending time with them.  Years from now, they will remember this as the most significant thing you did.  Men, you don’t have to have children of your own to be a father.  Remember, Jesus wasn’t Joseph’s flesh and blood.  There are many children today whose own fathers can’t or won’t be the fathers they need them to be, and you may be the father figure they need.  And when you are there for them, you will be following a wonderful biblical model of fatherhood.

Blessings – Michael

“The Good Place”

I recently watched the first season of a television series called “The Good Place” which deals with the afterlife. Once people die, an architect determines    whether people end up in the Good Place or the Bad Place. Conversations among the characters revolve around why someone would be assigned to one place over another and broach significant and complex philosophical questions. 

As season one came to a close, one of the characters realizes she is actually in the Bad Place, though (spoiler alert) she thought she was in the Good Place all along. A   noteworthy observation was made that fits with themes of our reading from I Corinthians 13 this past Sunday. Motivation matters. When the character protests to the architect that she helped raise 60 million for charities during her life on earth and that this should be sufficient criteria for being assigned to the Good Place, she is reminded that her intent (motivation) was the good favor she would receive from others.  Thus, being turned inward and doing things primarily for the good feelings or accolades afforded oneself – even if, consequentially, beneficial outcomes are derived in the process – is ultimately not “good” at all. 

The Dalai Lama similarly said in a recent interview, that all suffering has as its origin individuals turned inward on themselves. When we seek to serve our own interests, the inevitable outcomes will be pain and sorrow – for ourselves and others. Perhaps not right away or in the short run.  But over time this will always be the case.

This is the essence of I Corinthians 13.  Paul says that all the talent and ability in the world – even the spiritual giftedness we have received from God, as generous and benevolent our actions may be, are nothing if not rooted in love.  Such things are as useful as a “noisy gong or a clanging cymbal” (read: not useful at all!). Love is the desired motivation. For Love is necessarily and primarily turned outward and seeks first to satisfy the interests and well being of others over its own. Love is actively and voluntarily sacrificial, seeking the best for someone or something else, regardless of the benefit it may receive in the process. 

It is human nature to satisfy our own interests first, which is why Paul speaks this way about love.  The love he references is really God’s love for us.  God is forever seeking to sacrifice Godself for our best good.  This was revealed most clearly in the gift of Jesus Christ given up for our salvation (our ultimate “best good”).  And it is witnessed countless times over, in every moment when God is patient with us and not irritable with us (though we provide plenty of reasons and occasions for God to be impatient and irritable). And in our humble acceptance of this love, we are able, by grace, to live in that love and for that love.  And when that happens???  We help build a beloved community and the Good Place is not merely something we enjoy in the afterlife, we experience it in the here and now. 

Blessings – Michael